[It had been an awkward few weeks here for Felix as he kept to himself and tried to adjust to the little town of Hawkins, Indiana of the planet Earth. A planet he'd never actually been to in all honesty and now here he was, in the past, with nothing to his name, not even a birth record because he wasn't born yet. Or on this planet for that matter.
He kept a running tally of supplies he either pilfered or worked discreetly for and stayed hidden while he devised a plan to get himself situated. Creating a life from scratch was no easy feat, but this was not necessarily the first time Felix had had to do it. Point in case: he still went by a moniker rather than his given birth name.
Felix kept to himself by camping in the woods on the outskirts of town. It wasn't that hard for a survivalist like himself. He'd had worse situations while in the war and this was fine living by comparison to some months of that heinous conflict. The problem came when the rumors began to circulate. A small, podunk town like this spread rumors like wildfire to alleviate the boredom. It didn't take long for it to become the talk of the town: the monster in the woods. Some called it a ghost, others a shadowy beast.
The rumors were more lighthearted than the ones that circulated about murder and mayhem, hell and it's minions, but due to past events in the town's history the government authorities weren't taking it lightly. Felix had been avoiding the government agents for the past week now. They were bumbling fools compared to him and his military training in espionage and survival skills. He out-maneuvered them at every corner. It was almost laughable. If it hadn't been so annoying.
This evening as the sun began to sling low on the horizon and the shadows grew dark in between the trees, Felix heard them long before they got close. He'd set up alert-traps and at least one of them had gone off, making an awful amount of racket to inform him that he had visitors. He didn't like visitors. He gathered his things, put out his campfire, and disappeared into the shadows.
By the time the teenagers got to the encampment it simply looked like an abandoned campsite. The ashes of the fire were smoldering but only if one looked carefully enough to notice the dousing dirt was recently placed. The smell was impossible to get rid of on quick notice though. Felix was gone, out of sight, never to be found--but not far off. He watched as his campsite was set upon and his eyes settled on one figure in particular leading the tiny little pack.]
( For Steve, it's as if he never left Hawkins. That's how it had been designed all along, which should have been a comforting thought at the time. After all, how isolating it would have been to be the only one amongst his friends aware of the existence of orbs.
His regret should have been erased, but something went wrong. Instead, Steve is thrown back into 1986 before Spring Break, with no idea of what's to come. He is blissfully ignorant, living under the assumption that with the collapse of the Russian bunker and the destruction of the Mind Flayer, the Upside Down is no longer a threat they have to worry about.
Except there is another threat, apparently. It's not unheard of for urban legends to start for one reason or another. Which is exactly what Steve assumes it is when he and Robin decide to take matters into their own hands to investigate. Mainly because he knew if he didn't, Dustin would and he is sure as hell not letting that kid near anything potentially dangerous.
Which worked for all of about ten minutes, because of course Dustin ended up following on his bike anyway, and where Dustin went, so too did Mike and Lucas. So it was the five of them that reached the recently extinguished campfire. They don't get much in the way of campers, and certainly not this time of year, so Steve with his flashlight started investigating more thoroughly. All the while the hairs on the back of his neck start standing, as if feeling something familiar about this situation. Maybe it's just because his mind is equating this with him leading the party through the tunnels back in 1984, because otherwise what else could it be?
He's about to give up on this when he hears something. Maybe it's a twig snapping, but it puts him on edge and without giving it much thought, automatically reacts by grabbing his bat from the bag hanging off his shoulder, raising it to hopefully deter whatever or whoever happens to be nearby from attacking. )
[Felix watched as Harrington searched the woods nearby. He waited till the young man had wandered too far away from his peers, till he was out of sight and alone. Then he made some noise to lure the searcher just a little further.
It was probably an ill move to strike so soon without a plan, without knowing the full stakes, without having tested the waters. He had no way of knowing how Steve would react to him. The orb had been clear about how the deal worked but Felix had broken his and demanded an alternate route; it had left him with forewarned consequences and a slew of memories he had refused to relinquish as part of his new deal. Now he had to figure out whether Steve had been affected or not. Did Harrington remember anything or nothing at all of his time aboard the Ximilia with its crew. The mercenary should have proceeded with more caution. But that had never been Felix's strong point. Act first, think later or never at all. Besides this could be hella fun for him if done right.
And maybe a little part of him refused to think what it would be like to be forgotten by the one person in his new life who had grown to mean so much to him. How that would affect him.
Felix chuckled softly as he saw the spiked bat lifted and held in Steve's grip as the young man moved cautiously forward. The ex-marine knew it would give him away but he couldn't help himself. The sight was just too funny for some reason. As Steve reacted to his laughter, Felix slipped back into hiding and carefully sneaked round the man while his attention was drawn to Felix's previous position. He came up close to Steve from behind and whispered.]
What are you going to do with that, huh?
[His voice was soft, and what's more it was muffled due to the black balaclava pulled over his head and covering his mouth. It was part of the reason behind the rumors--spotting him even briefly left much to the imagination. His face covered and his lithe body encased in the undersuit of his armor like a second skin of black and gray scales, it was no wonder the rumors described him as a demon of the forest.]
( Well, at least the sound Steve hears is human. That tends to point strictly in the Not Upside Down related category, which is what Steve was hoping to find. But that still doesn't exactly ease his mind, because humans are just as capable of being horrors than legitimate monsters are.
His eyes follow to where he heard the laughter, but he can't spot him like this. It isn't until Felix is right up beside him that he realizes he's fucked. He shivers in what he tells himself is terror and not because of anything else.
He could spin around and see if he can somehow take the stranger by surprise, but there's no guarantee that Felix isn't armed. He's more likely to get himself injured in the process, and he has too many people to protect right now. )
Well, I had planned on using it to ward off anything that tried to get too close, but I guess I didn't account for, uh, well, this.
( His voice has a worried edge to it, and is made all the worse by the chattering of his teeth, considering how cold Indiana can get in the winter. )
Who are you and what are you doing in the middle of the woods?
Did I indicate in any way that we were gonna take this as a question for a question? [He leaned in marginally closer.] Because I believe I'm the one in charge here.
[For emphasis he poked Steve in the back with two fingers almost as if he were holding a gun. But if the kid fell for that he might be disappointed. On the other hand, if he didn't cooperate Felix might still be disappointed. Impressed, but disappointed. As it was currently the mercenary was faintly proud of the younger man for keeping his cool. Although the chattering teeth did ruin some of that effect. He almost wanted to laugh but that would either ruin his effect of intimidation or make him sound insane.
As Felix spoke his next words he reached around Steve to grab at the bat's grip, attempting to gently pry it from Harrington's hands while he was being compliant. Again, emphasizing that he was in charge here and felt nothing in this tricky encounter.]
Why do you want to know? What are you doing out here? Isn't it past your bedtime or something, kid?
( If there is any disappointment here from Steve, it's pointed towards himself. Maybe he really had bit off more than he could chew here, but it's not like he could rely on the police officers left in the force to evaluate this problem since they didn't know about the Upside Down. With Hopper gone, with Joyce across the country, it fell on him to keep everyone safe.
And now look at him, he's gone and probably got himself killed. He feels the fingers at his back, and shrinks in defeat, not pausing to consider if those felt like the barrel of a gun or someone faking him out. If he just thought a little bit more he might be able to compare it to the time he actually did have a gun pressed into his back. )
First of all, I'm not a kid, I'm nineteen. And what am I doing here? Making sure you're not terrorizing my kids, that's what.
( He does let Felix take the bat from him, though. He's not that stupid, even if a small part of him maybe does have a death wish. As if something is missing from his life that he can't quite put a finger on. )
So what, you gonna kill me now? They're gonna find you eventually, probably even faster if you kill me.
( it’s as if steve blinked and found himself in hawkins again — actually, no, that’s exactly what happened. one moment he was moping around the ship and the next he was staring down at nancy in his arms as she woke from her vecna trance.
the exact moment he’d left.
he’s lucky no one finds his over-the-top joy at nancy’s return to consciousness odd. to them, he’s appropriately relieved that she’s okay. they have no idea he hasn’t seen any of them for months with no hope of ever seeing them again.
the next moments are a whirlwind. he sits rigidly next to eddie on the couch as nancy recounts her experience with vecna. they steal some poor couple's winnebago. they head to the war zone to buy guns and clothes and whatever else they need for this half-baked plan. steve's thoughts undulate between two things the entire drive — that they have to do better this time, and that he needs to talk to eddie alone. he hasn't picked up on any cues that this is his eddie, but that might not mean anything. or it might mean everything.
when they reach their destination, it occurs to steve that this might be the only chance he really has to be alone with eddie, so when the others try to drag him in, too, he staunchly refuses with a sweeping gesture from his head to his toes. )
You think I can go in there looking like this? Come on. Just grab me some shoes, alright? ( he’s actually pretty sure a place like the war zone doesn’t give two shits if you walk in barefoot and shirtless, but that doesn't matter. he makes sure everyone’s out of the winnebago and the door is shut tight before he finally spins around to face eddie.
he doesn’t say anything at first, not as he slides into one of the seats across from eddie. he doesn’t know what to say. )
Hey. Um. You holding up okay? ( is what he ends up going with, but the look on his face says something more like please say you remember. please tell me you made it back, too. )
( by some miracle, eddie doesn't get thrown back to the exact moment he was pulled from. it's disorienting as fuck, but luckily he didn't get thrown into some alternate timeline so it's relatively easy for eddie to play along.
the shitty part of it all is not knowing whether it's just him here that's aware of what happened. did steve manage to get sent back as well? or was he being given a chance, now, to change his destiny? that would be pretty fucking cool, but it could be just as likely that this is meant to trap him for all eternity. maybe the captain found a way to torture him by making him go through this again and again and will use the negative energy or whatever it is.
until they get to the war zone, and instead of going inside, steve stays behind. that causes eddie's eyes to widen tremendously as he lets himself hope. this isn't eddie changing the trajectory, this is steve. )
Jesus fucking Christ, I'm hanging on by a thread, man. ( he wants to hope so much that this is the steve that's been with him on that damn cruise ship, but a tiny part of him reminds him that maybe this is the steve from his own timeline that also got sent back after eddie died. maybe this steve doesn't know how he feels at all.
so he plays it safe, for now. even though his hand is itching to take steve's right now, itching for some kind of anchor to ground him and reassure him that it's all going to be okay. )
How are you doing, though? Those, uh. Those look gnarly, maybe we should stop somewhere for some clean bandages.
( steve answers too quickly and glances down at his filthy, bloody bandages with a grimace, so his reassurance probably isn't all that convincing. the pain had been something like background noise this entire time but now that he's actually focusing on the bites, he remembers how bad they actually hurt.
but he devises a plan to suss out whether or not eddie remembers the ship right then and there. it’s messy. it really isn’t all that clever. it’ll be kind of weird to try and explain away if eddie doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
it’s also the best steve’s got right now, so he’s going for it. )
Actually, there's this girl who works at the pharmacy, maybe she can help out. Her name’s Clarke. You know her?
( at first, it doesn't seem like there is any sort of tell that this steve knows everything eddie has been through. he sticks to a neutral expression even though he feels as if he's hanging by a thread.
but then steve mentions clarke and eddie's head snaps to the side, eyes fixed on steve's to try and suss out if he heard that correctly. no fucking way. )
Clarke...Griffin? ( eddie supplies with wide, hopeful yet concerned eyes. he wants to believe that this is his steve, but he's careful not to give himself away, lest he be just making himself look insane, or cursed by vecna. )
( and that's all it takes. the carefully constructed wall steve had built in an attempt to keep up this façade comes crumbling down and he's closing the space between them, moving to join eddie where he sits. )
You remember, ( he manages before he's pulling eddie into a desperate kiss. he'd just spent the last two weeks in a miserable spiral, positive that eddie was lost and suffering and there was nothing he could do to save him. now here they are, with a second chance and no explanation as to why. this shouldn't even be possible.
you can never go home, they'd said. you can never go home because you'd never left it. if you even tried, you'd be obliterated. steve had been filled with a hopelessness like he'd never known these past two weeks. and now...
he breaks the kiss just so he can get a look at eddie properly, his hands cupping either side of eddie's face as he looks him over. they're both filthy. they smell. it's definitely a far cry from their cushy existence on the ship, torture aside.
steve doesn't think he's ever been happier. )
You were gone. I thought he sent you to the Nothing. I thought — ( he stops, too choked up to continue. he doesn't want to cry, not when the others could come bursting back in at any moment, but he'd been so certain he would never see eddie again. this whole thing is a risk they're going to have to get used to but steve can't part from eddie just yet. he wraps his arms around him tight, buries his face in eddie's neck, and allows himself to shed a few tears of relief, just this once. )
( the moment steve pulls him into a kiss, eddie just immediately melts into it. when he realized he was no longer on the cruise ship, he had assumed the worst, that he had lost everything good that hat come out of that. not that he wants to give the captain any credit for what he and steve managed to build during their time together.
now eddie is kissing him back like both their lives depend on it. and while a part of eddie worries this is just his imagination, that he's going to wake up in the nothing or some bullshit, he is going to cling to this while he still can.
and blatantly ignore the fact that they still have to figure out how eddie is going to avoid the whole dying thing.
again. )
I'm here. Steve, I'm here, it's me, I'm real. ( he says it just as much for his own benefit as for steve's. he keeps a tight grip around steve, rocking them both a little bit gently as if that's going to calm them both down from their emotionally charged reunion. )
I can't believe it. How's this even fucking possible?
Hey champ. I know you're still thinking through the whole college thing. As an alumni that has donated enough to MIT for them to let me name a project B.A.R.F., I wanted to remind you that it's an option and the deadline for applications is Friday.
No pressure, though. Does that feel like pressure? NYU is great too. They have a garden named after my mother. She was into horticulture.
( On the one hand, it is nice to have someone who wants to see him go to a school where he'll be challenged and actually enjoy his time. As opposed to his dad, who had been trying so very hard to guilt trip him into just getting an MBA from Cornell like he did, using legacy as an in.
He really can't wait until he can move out. )
Okay, but now I'm dying to know, which came first, the acronym? Did you try to reverse engineer that name?
I'm thinking of staying local, though.( Definitely doesn't have anything to do with a certain pact he made with a certain brunette back before they broke up.
Nor does it have anything to do with the city needing its friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. )NYU looked really cool when I toured the campus, though, so there is that.
Local is good too. [ Especially if it means he can keep better tabs on him and his slinging adventures. Not that he's going to admit it, that sounds creepy. Like he's more emotionally invested in a kid who superheroes after school than he should be. He's not Steve's dad. Cool mentor, maybe.] I'll have Friday add a dry cleaning pass to your internship package. No laundry. Trust me, that's going to save you hours.
Two days?( As if it didn't take him over two weeks to finally land on Spider-Man or his superhero alter ego. )Not bad.
Dry cleaning, huh?( On the one hand, he kind of wants to give the whole normal college experience a try. But also, no laundry? Kinda nice to think about. )Well, I mean, if you're offering...
I'm insisting. You're going to have plenty of other things on your plate, no need to add laundry.
Speaking of, college is when alcoholism rears it's ugly little head, so - I can't believe I'm saying this - but fun in moderation, okay? You can only have so many embarrassing videos on the internet before it stops being funny. Trust me on this one.
Yeah...can't really argue with that logic. Kind of dreading the sharp uptick in homework assignments, not gonna lie.( It's not even the homework or the amount of it -- it's balancing that with keeping the city safe. Keeping up with everything...it already feels like it's going to be a lot. )
Dude.( Okay, yeah, Tony does have kind of a point, but it's still suspect coming from him. )I know, I know, don't drink and drive. Or swing. I'll be fine, really.
He might very well be the new king of Redania (all hail, long live, etc etc), but they tell him very little. He's a figurehead at best, a puppet at worst, and neither of these parts require actual knowledge of what goes on in his new kingdom. He realizes that, he thinks, better than Vizimir ever did, how little power he actually has, despite his name being on the banners and the treaties. Philippa and Dijkstra hold the reins and they allow him to live, stern-faced on the paintings and smiling at court, and alone, alone, always alone, as long as he doesn't give them any trouble. He's been much too scared to step out of line so far, the memory of his brother's blood dripping from the crown and into his hair too fresh in his memory. But today, he will.
He hears about it because Philippa and Dijkstra are away for a few days, brokering whatever arrangement they feel is necessary at the Northern border of Redania. They didn't need him to be there and left him at the castle, to wander the halls and listen in on guards talking excitedly about a skirmish that happened in the forest. The witcher, they say, and it certainly gets Radovid's attention. The white wolf. He escaped, but we got his bard. Keeping him in the dungeon. He might know something, Dijkstra'll want to see him.
Radovid can barely stop himself from running all the way back up to his rooms, standing in front of the fire with his fists clenched tightly. Jaskier. A prisoner in his castle. A shiver of cool dread goes down his spine, making his stomach knot and his throat close up. He's too aware of how, exactly, Dijkstra gets information from people. To let Jaskier suffer through that, is unthinkable. He's also aware that doing what he's about to do will most likely get him into a lot of trouble.
At nightfall, he slips out of his rooms. He has to wait until the guard there leaves to have his dinner, soon to be replaced by another. While they both chat and joke on the stairs there is a minute when the corridor is empty, and Radovid knows that this is his window. He's never done this before, but he's certainly thought about it. From there, he knows the castle well-enough to make his way to the dungeons undetected, keeping to the shadows, the less-used corridors. It helps that all the guards are staring anxiously at the southern border of the city (they say that's where Emhyr will attack, when he does), and not actually at the inside of the castle.
He stole a set of keys for most of the locks in the castle a while ago and clutches them tightly as he goes down, down, and down to the basement of the dungeon, where the cells are. Most of them are empty and he has to make his way to the very back before he finds one that's closed. On the table next to it is Jaskier's lute, a little worse for wear, and a blue doublet that's seen better days.
"Jaskier?" he whispers, as loud as he dares. In the dim light he's only a backlit hooded figure, golden hair tucked behind his ears, eyes sharp in the gloom.
Jaskier really should have known his luck would run out eventually. Since he had started traveling with Geralt more and more, it did put a target on all of their backs. It certainly didn't help that Geralt's first and foremost concern would always be Ciri, though the bard could hardly blame him. Besides, it was gratifying seeing him care for someone so deeply after his initial attempts at ignoring his child surprise.
In the end, Jaskier blames Philippa more than anyone else. He knew going into their little arrangement that trusting the sorceress was dangerous business. He recalls the way Yennefer had treated him during the little djinn incident, but after being left to his own devices following the dragon hunt, it had left Jaskier with a gaping hole in his heart that he had desperately tried to fill with any little thing. He might never be Geralt of Rivia, but maybe he could do some good in this world.
Of course, now that seems to have backfired, as he wallows in his cell, deep in the bowels of Redania. They had taken his precious lute, leaving him naught but the sound of his voice to keep him entertained. Frankly, he did not expect Geralt to abandon his journey to Nilfgaard to see if it truly is Ciri they've managed to capture. He half-expects to rot in here for all eternity, or until the war reaches this far north. It's bound to eventually.
What he doesn't expect is for someone else to take up the challenge. In the darkness, he can hardly pinpoint who it is that's come down to find him. Rience, he was reassured by Geralt, is dead, and yet he cannot stop his heart from sinking into his stomach.
That is, until he hears his name. And while he still can't quite make out Radovid from underneath the hood, he thinks he recognizes that voice. Torn between slipping into a defensive position and jumping at the chance of being rescued, he opts to play it safe. Besides, he reminds himself, Radovid had tried to take advantage of circumstances to get a hold of Ciri. Now that he's apparently been crowned king, who says that he isn't still up to no good?
"Who goes there?" he rasps back, wishing very much that he had even half as much of Geralt's resolve right about now.
"It's me," he says quietly, struck by the huskiness of Jaskier's voice. He should have brought water, he didn't think of it. "Radovid." Comma, King, he doesn't add, because he doesn't really want to joke about this. He pulls his hood back so Jaskier can see for himself, his blond hair curling against his cheeks. Radovid looks tired, dark shadows deep under his worried eyes.
"Jaskier, are you hurt?" he whispers urgently, stepping closer so he can slip his arm through the bars of the cell, reaching into the darkness for Jaskier's hand. Perhaps it is unwise, he realizes, to come so close to a man backed into a desperate corner. Jaskier could hurt him. He has before, though only with his words, not with his hands. He persists still, his other hand coming to rest against the bars, the keys he's holding clinking against the metal.
"Radovid?!" Jaskier's voice boomed with disbelief, echoing off the dungeon's walls. He wasn't sure who to expect to approach his cell, but admittedly Radovid was so far down the list he found himself sputtering as he struggled to get his brain to catch up. And sure enough, it was Radovid standing in front of him, plain as day. He wasn't sure if he was wholly glad to see him or just happy that it wasn't someone worse than Rience.
"Am I hurt, he asks?" Jaskier scoffed, dusting himself off dramatically, because even in distress he could not help it. It was in his nature to deflect, so as not to show any weakness. It was the only strength he had, the ability to perform, so he might as well put it to good use, right? "I shall live. I have not been interrogated yet, thankfully." Even though the fire fucker was no longer a concern, the association would be enough to fill him with enough fear to freeze up. He could not afford it, if Redanian intelligence should try to pry Ciri's whereabouts out of him.
"What in Melitele's tits are you even doing here?" he asked as he struggled to keep his expression neutral, even though memories of their time spent together started to rise to the surface, begging him to be a little softer.
"Shhhh," Radovid shushed in return, eyebrows going up in worry, extending his arm into the cell further to placate Jaskier pleadingly. He glanced towards the end of the corridor anxiously, where the guards would no doubt be back very soon. "Please, not so loud. No-one knows I'm here," he added quietly, a little apologetic at the way he had just shushed Jaskier.
He straightened up at Jaskier's scoffing answer, squaring his shoulders to take it better, nodding. "No, I-" He answered, swallowing but meeting Jaskier's eyes. "I told them to wait until Philippa and Dijkstra were back." An easy enough order, as the guards would much rather wait until the true masters of the castle came back to take any kind of decision.
"I'm going to break you out," Radovid announced, pulling his hand back once it was clear Jaskier wasn't going to take it, holding up the keys instead. "I have the keys, I am kind of, um. The King?" That sounds almost like an apology, too. "They won't let me free you, but I've lived in this castle all my life. I know how to get in undetected, and how to get out."
( it was an opportunity that eddie couldn't pass up. getting out of hawkins was his number one priority since he was old enough to realize the rest of the folk in this place would love to see him fail. maybe waiting on tables for the rich and famous wasn't the most metal career path in the world, but it paid absurdly well, and there were enough chances for eddie to stretch his musical fingers and hope that maybe, one day, someone will notice him.
plus, this meant getting out of america for a bit. only wayne knows where he is, which means no impromptu calls from his old man. the language barrier does mean that it's a little more challenging to make friends with the locals, but not impossible. he's even learned a few essential phrases in thai — enough to get him in good graces with shopkeepers and bartenders where eddie spends most of his off-time.
the white lotus. so long as eddie does all his assigned duties and nails his scheduled performance, fabian doesn't give a shit what he does on his aforementioned off-time. another boat full of guests has just arrived, and eddie puts on his most charming smile, hoping whatever guest family he's being whored off to this week is closer in age to him. fabian must have it out for him, based on the number of older bridge partners and families with small children who end up on eddie's list. he stands up straight, trying to nonchalantly get a glimpse at the next family when he hears fabian say his name. ah, another family...but with a son around his age. said son looks bored out of his mind, but that could just be eddie's imagination. given how much of a pain in the ass it is for anyone to get to this hellhole of a resort, he can't exactly blame the guy for looking so miserable. it's no problem for eddie, he'll just have to —
before he can even open his mouth, the man (his father?) addresses eddie in a manner that makes eddie's blood run cold. not that eddie should be so surprised. he knows this guy's type all too well. old money: anyone in the service industry is automatically beneath him.
[ fifteen hours on a plane, and some-odd time on a boat to the island. it's all melted together, time slipping through steve's fingers. he's been asleep, half-asleep, but not all there when it comes to wakefulness. he'd falling asleep on the boat, his mother poking his ribs gently to wake him up. we're here, son! his father slapped his bare knee, board shorts covering steve's lower frame. when they reached the sand, steve winces at the heat against his feet. he's wearing flip-flops, sand already working its way between his toes.
he steps up with his mother and father to the line of greeters, and his eyes travel from the man speaking to them — fabian, the manager, as he explains — to smiling face to smiling face. when his gaze falls upon the guy at the right side, his father's voice cuts through the pleasantries. steve immediately looks down, the flowers placed on his wrist dangling. it's as if he's being spoken to that way, but then, thankfully — his mother chimes in. don't be so grumpy. sorry, he's been on the plane too long. jetlag. steve's eyes lift to the man around his age, and he mouths an i'm sorry — his father is too busy being placated by his mother. that's what always happens, and steve resents it. he always has. ]
I'm Steve. I was on the same plane.
[ a small joke, one that causes the side of his mouth to uptick as he looks back at the man, watching his face. his gaze then flicks to fabian and the rest of the greeters, and he offers a smile. he lifts his wrists, indicating the flowers and shaking them a bit. he smiles again. ]
What are these for — maybe you can tell me?
[ his focus then shifts back to him, and steve wonders why. yeah, he's handsome — pretty eyes, the way his mouth slightly pouts, his eyelashes when he blinks — it's all devastating, but there's a warmth steve can feel, too. he doesn't want him to think badly of his family right off the bat, so steve steps forward as his parents talk to fabian. ]
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Steve and Felix Ximilia Continuation AU
He kept a running tally of supplies he either pilfered or worked discreetly for and stayed hidden while he devised a plan to get himself situated. Creating a life from scratch was no easy feat, but this was not necessarily the first time Felix had had to do it. Point in case: he still went by a moniker rather than his given birth name.
Felix kept to himself by camping in the woods on the outskirts of town. It wasn't that hard for a survivalist like himself. He'd had worse situations while in the war and this was fine living by comparison to some months of that heinous conflict. The problem came when the rumors began to circulate. A small, podunk town like this spread rumors like wildfire to alleviate the boredom. It didn't take long for it to become the talk of the town: the monster in the woods. Some called it a ghost, others a shadowy beast.
The rumors were more lighthearted than the ones that circulated about murder and mayhem, hell and it's minions, but due to past events in the town's history the government authorities weren't taking it lightly. Felix had been avoiding the government agents for the past week now. They were bumbling fools compared to him and his military training in espionage and survival skills. He out-maneuvered them at every corner. It was almost laughable. If it hadn't been so annoying.
This evening as the sun began to sling low on the horizon and the shadows grew dark in between the trees, Felix heard them long before they got close. He'd set up alert-traps and at least one of them had gone off, making an awful amount of racket to inform him that he had visitors. He didn't like visitors. He gathered his things, put out his campfire, and disappeared into the shadows.
By the time the teenagers got to the encampment it simply looked like an abandoned campsite. The ashes of the fire were smoldering but only if one looked carefully enough to notice the dousing dirt was recently placed. The smell was impossible to get rid of on quick notice though. Felix was gone, out of sight, never to be found--but not far off. He watched as his campsite was set upon and his eyes settled on one figure in particular leading the tiny little pack.]
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His regret should have been erased, but something went wrong. Instead, Steve is thrown back into 1986 before Spring Break, with no idea of what's to come. He is blissfully ignorant, living under the assumption that with the collapse of the Russian bunker and the destruction of the Mind Flayer, the Upside Down is no longer a threat they have to worry about.
Except there is another threat, apparently. It's not unheard of for urban legends to start for one reason or another. Which is exactly what Steve assumes it is when he and Robin decide to take matters into their own hands to investigate. Mainly because he knew if he didn't, Dustin would and he is sure as hell not letting that kid near anything potentially dangerous.
Which worked for all of about ten minutes, because of course Dustin ended up following on his bike anyway, and where Dustin went, so too did Mike and Lucas. So it was the five of them that reached the recently extinguished campfire. They don't get much in the way of campers, and certainly not this time of year, so Steve with his flashlight started investigating more thoroughly. All the while the hairs on the back of his neck start standing, as if feeling something familiar about this situation. Maybe it's just because his mind is equating this with him leading the party through the tunnels back in 1984, because otherwise what else could it be?
He's about to give up on this when he hears something. Maybe it's a twig snapping, but it puts him on edge and without giving it much thought, automatically reacts by grabbing his bat from the bag hanging off his shoulder, raising it to hopefully deter whatever or whoever happens to be nearby from attacking. )
Hello? Who's there?
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It was probably an ill move to strike so soon without a plan, without knowing the full stakes, without having tested the waters. He had no way of knowing how Steve would react to him. The orb had been clear about how the deal worked but Felix had broken his and demanded an alternate route; it had left him with forewarned consequences and a slew of memories he had refused to relinquish as part of his new deal. Now he had to figure out whether Steve had been affected or not. Did Harrington remember anything or nothing at all of his time aboard the Ximilia with its crew. The mercenary should have proceeded with more caution. But that had never been Felix's strong point. Act first, think later or never at all. Besides this could be hella fun for him if done right.
And maybe a little part of him refused to think what it would be like to be forgotten by the one person in his new life who had grown to mean so much to him. How that would affect him.
Felix chuckled softly as he saw the spiked bat lifted and held in Steve's grip as the young man moved cautiously forward. The ex-marine knew it would give him away but he couldn't help himself. The sight was just too funny for some reason. As Steve reacted to his laughter, Felix slipped back into hiding and carefully sneaked round the man while his attention was drawn to Felix's previous position. He came up close to Steve from behind and whispered.]
What are you going to do with that, huh?
[His voice was soft, and what's more it was muffled due to the black balaclava pulled over his head and covering his mouth. It was part of the reason behind the rumors--spotting him even briefly left much to the imagination. His face covered and his lithe body encased in the undersuit of his armor like a second skin of black and gray scales, it was no wonder the rumors described him as a demon of the forest.]
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His eyes follow to where he heard the laughter, but he can't spot him like this. It isn't until Felix is right up beside him that he realizes he's fucked. He shivers in what he tells himself is terror and not because of anything else.
He could spin around and see if he can somehow take the stranger by surprise, but there's no guarantee that Felix isn't armed. He's more likely to get himself injured in the process, and he has too many people to protect right now. )
Well, I had planned on using it to ward off anything that tried to get too close, but I guess I didn't account for, uh, well, this.
( His voice has a worried edge to it, and is made all the worse by the chattering of his teeth, considering how cold Indiana can get in the winter. )
Who are you and what are you doing in the middle of the woods?
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[For emphasis he poked Steve in the back with two fingers almost as if he were holding a gun. But if the kid fell for that he might be disappointed. On the other hand, if he didn't cooperate Felix might still be disappointed. Impressed, but disappointed. As it was currently the mercenary was faintly proud of the younger man for keeping his cool. Although the chattering teeth did ruin some of that effect. He almost wanted to laugh but that would either ruin his effect of intimidation or make him sound insane.
As Felix spoke his next words he reached around Steve to grab at the bat's grip, attempting to gently pry it from Harrington's hands while he was being compliant. Again, emphasizing that he was in charge here and felt nothing in this tricky encounter.]
Why do you want to know? What are you doing out here? Isn't it past your bedtime or something, kid?
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And now look at him, he's gone and probably got himself killed. He feels the fingers at his back, and shrinks in defeat, not pausing to consider if those felt like the barrel of a gun or someone faking him out. If he just thought a little bit more he might be able to compare it to the time he actually did have a gun pressed into his back. )
First of all, I'm not a kid, I'm nineteen. And what am I doing here? Making sure you're not terrorizing my kids, that's what.
( He does let Felix take the bat from him, though. He's not that stupid, even if a small part of him maybe does have a death wish. As if something is missing from his life that he can't quite put a finger on. )
So what, you gonna kill me now? They're gonna find you eventually, probably even faster if you kill me.
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steve and eddie - post-sail
the exact moment he’d left.
he’s lucky no one finds his over-the-top joy at nancy’s return to consciousness odd. to them, he’s appropriately relieved that she’s okay. they have no idea he hasn’t seen any of them for months with no hope of ever seeing them again.
the next moments are a whirlwind. he sits rigidly next to eddie on the couch as nancy recounts her experience with vecna. they steal some poor couple's winnebago. they head to the war zone to buy guns and clothes and whatever else they need for this half-baked plan. steve's thoughts undulate between two things the entire drive — that they have to do better this time, and that he needs to talk to eddie alone. he hasn't picked up on any cues that this is his eddie, but that might not mean anything. or it might mean everything.
when they reach their destination, it occurs to steve that this might be the only chance he really has to be alone with eddie, so when the others try to drag him in, too, he staunchly refuses with a sweeping gesture from his head to his toes. )
You think I can go in there looking like this? Come on. Just grab me some shoes, alright? ( he’s actually pretty sure a place like the war zone doesn’t give two shits if you walk in barefoot and shirtless, but that doesn't matter. he makes sure everyone’s out of the winnebago and the door is shut tight before he finally spins around to face eddie.
he doesn’t say anything at first, not as he slides into one of the seats across from eddie. he doesn’t know what to say. )
Hey. Um. You holding up okay? ( is what he ends up going with, but the look on his face says something more like please say you remember. please tell me you made it back, too. )
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the shitty part of it all is not knowing whether it's just him here that's aware of what happened. did steve manage to get sent back as well? or was he being given a chance, now, to change his destiny? that would be pretty fucking cool, but it could be just as likely that this is meant to trap him for all eternity. maybe the captain found a way to torture him by making him go through this again and again and will use the negative energy or whatever it is.
until they get to the war zone, and instead of going inside, steve stays behind. that causes eddie's eyes to widen tremendously as he lets himself hope. this isn't eddie changing the trajectory, this is steve. )
Jesus fucking Christ, I'm hanging on by a thread, man. ( he wants to hope so much that this is the steve that's been with him on that damn cruise ship, but a tiny part of him reminds him that maybe this is the steve from his own timeline that also got sent back after eddie died. maybe this steve doesn't know how he feels at all.
so he plays it safe, for now. even though his hand is itching to take steve's right now, itching for some kind of anchor to ground him and reassure him that it's all going to be okay. )
How are you doing, though? Those, uh. Those look gnarly, maybe we should stop somewhere for some clean bandages.
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( steve answers too quickly and glances down at his filthy, bloody bandages with a grimace, so his reassurance probably isn't all that convincing. the pain had been something like background noise this entire time but now that he's actually focusing on the bites, he remembers how bad they actually hurt.
but he devises a plan to suss out whether or not eddie remembers the ship right then and there. it’s messy. it really isn’t all that clever. it’ll be kind of weird to try and explain away if eddie doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
it’s also the best steve’s got right now, so he’s going for it. )
Actually, there's this girl who works at the pharmacy, maybe she can help out. Her name’s Clarke. You know her?
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but then steve mentions clarke and eddie's head snaps to the side, eyes fixed on steve's to try and suss out if he heard that correctly. no fucking way. )
Clarke...Griffin? ( eddie supplies with wide, hopeful yet concerned eyes. he wants to believe that this is his steve, but he's careful not to give himself away, lest he be just making himself look insane, or cursed by vecna. )
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You remember, ( he manages before he's pulling eddie into a desperate kiss. he'd just spent the last two weeks in a miserable spiral, positive that eddie was lost and suffering and there was nothing he could do to save him. now here they are, with a second chance and no explanation as to why. this shouldn't even be possible.
you can never go home, they'd said. you can never go home because you'd never left it. if you even tried, you'd be obliterated. steve had been filled with a hopelessness like he'd never known these past two weeks. and now...
he breaks the kiss just so he can get a look at eddie properly, his hands cupping either side of eddie's face as he looks him over. they're both filthy. they smell. it's definitely a far cry from their cushy existence on the ship, torture aside.
steve doesn't think he's ever been happier. )
You were gone. I thought he sent you to the Nothing. I thought — ( he stops, too choked up to continue. he doesn't want to cry, not when the others could come bursting back in at any moment, but he'd been so certain he would never see eddie again. this whole thing is a risk they're going to have to get used to but steve can't part from eddie just yet. he wraps his arms around him tight, buries his face in eddie's neck, and allows himself to shed a few tears of relief, just this once. )
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now eddie is kissing him back like both their lives depend on it. and while a part of eddie worries this is just his imagination, that he's going to wake up in the nothing or some bullshit, he is going to cling to this while he still can.
and blatantly ignore the fact that they still have to figure out how eddie is going to avoid the whole dying thing.
again. )
I'm here. Steve, I'm here, it's me, I'm real. ( he says it just as much for his own benefit as for steve's. he keeps a tight grip around steve, rocking them both a little bit gently as if that's going to calm them both down from their emotionally charged reunion. )
I can't believe it. How's this even fucking possible?
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And so it begins...
No pressure, though. Does that feel like pressure? NYU is great too. They have a garden named after my mother. She was into horticulture.
mwahaha
He really can't wait until he can move out. )
Okay, but now I'm dying to know, which came first, the acronym? Did you try to reverse engineer that name?
I'm thinking of staying local, though. ( Definitely doesn't have anything to do with a certain pact he made with a certain brunette back before they broke up.
Nor does it have anything to do with the city needing its friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. ) NYU looked really cool when I toured the campus, though, so there is that.
Re: mwahaha
Local is good too. [ Especially if it means he can keep better tabs on him and his slinging adventures. Not that he's going to admit it, that sounds creepy. Like he's more emotionally invested in a kid who superheroes after school than he should be. He's not Steve's dad. Cool mentor, maybe.] I'll have Friday add a dry cleaning pass to your internship package. No laundry. Trust me, that's going to save you hours.
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Dry cleaning, huh? ( On the one hand, he kind of wants to give the whole normal college experience a try. But also, no laundry? Kinda nice to think about. ) Well, I mean, if you're offering...
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Speaking of, college is when alcoholism rears it's ugly little head, so - I can't believe I'm saying this - but fun in moderation, okay? You can only have so many embarrassing videos on the internet before it stops being funny. Trust me on this one.
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Dude. ( Okay, yeah, Tony does have kind of a point, but it's still suspect coming from him. ) I know, I know, don't drink and drive. Or swing. I'll be fine, really.
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and that's a wrap (on this one at least)
post S3 plot, for Jaskier
He might very well be the new king of Redania (all hail, long live, etc etc), but they tell him very little. He's a figurehead at best, a puppet at worst, and neither of these parts require actual knowledge of what goes on in his new kingdom. He realizes that, he thinks, better than Vizimir ever did, how little power he actually has, despite his name being on the banners and the treaties. Philippa and Dijkstra hold the reins and they allow him to live, stern-faced on the paintings and smiling at court, and alone, alone, always alone, as long as he doesn't give them any trouble. He's been much too scared to step out of line so far, the memory of his brother's blood dripping from the crown and into his hair too fresh in his memory. But today, he will.
He hears about it because Philippa and Dijkstra are away for a few days, brokering whatever arrangement they feel is necessary at the Northern border of Redania. They didn't need him to be there and left him at the castle, to wander the halls and listen in on guards talking excitedly about a skirmish that happened in the forest. The witcher, they say, and it certainly gets Radovid's attention. The white wolf. He escaped, but we got his bard. Keeping him in the dungeon. He might know something, Dijkstra'll want to see him.
Radovid can barely stop himself from running all the way back up to his rooms, standing in front of the fire with his fists clenched tightly. Jaskier. A prisoner in his castle. A shiver of cool dread goes down his spine, making his stomach knot and his throat close up. He's too aware of how, exactly, Dijkstra gets information from people. To let Jaskier suffer through that, is unthinkable. He's also aware that doing what he's about to do will most likely get him into a lot of trouble.
At nightfall, he slips out of his rooms. He has to wait until the guard there leaves to have his dinner, soon to be replaced by another. While they both chat and joke on the stairs there is a minute when the corridor is empty, and Radovid knows that this is his window. He's never done this before, but he's certainly thought about it. From there, he knows the castle well-enough to make his way to the dungeons undetected, keeping to the shadows, the less-used corridors. It helps that all the guards are staring anxiously at the southern border of the city (they say that's where Emhyr will attack, when he does), and not actually at the inside of the castle.
He stole a set of keys for most of the locks in the castle a while ago and clutches them tightly as he goes down, down, and down to the basement of the dungeon, where the cells are. Most of them are empty and he has to make his way to the very back before he finds one that's closed. On the table next to it is Jaskier's lute, a little worse for wear, and a blue doublet that's seen better days.
"Jaskier?" he whispers, as loud as he dares. In the dim light he's only a backlit hooded figure, golden hair tucked behind his ears, eyes sharp in the gloom.
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In the end, Jaskier blames Philippa more than anyone else. He knew going into their little arrangement that trusting the sorceress was dangerous business. He recalls the way Yennefer had treated him during the little djinn incident, but after being left to his own devices following the dragon hunt, it had left Jaskier with a gaping hole in his heart that he had desperately tried to fill with any little thing. He might never be Geralt of Rivia, but maybe he could do some good in this world.
Of course, now that seems to have backfired, as he wallows in his cell, deep in the bowels of Redania. They had taken his precious lute, leaving him naught but the sound of his voice to keep him entertained. Frankly, he did not expect Geralt to abandon his journey to Nilfgaard to see if it truly is Ciri they've managed to capture. He half-expects to rot in here for all eternity, or until the war reaches this far north. It's bound to eventually.
What he doesn't expect is for someone else to take up the challenge. In the darkness, he can hardly pinpoint who it is that's come down to find him. Rience, he was reassured by Geralt, is dead, and yet he cannot stop his heart from sinking into his stomach.
That is, until he hears his name. And while he still can't quite make out Radovid from underneath the hood, he thinks he recognizes that voice. Torn between slipping into a defensive position and jumping at the chance of being rescued, he opts to play it safe. Besides, he reminds himself, Radovid had tried to take advantage of circumstances to get a hold of Ciri. Now that he's apparently been crowned king, who says that he isn't still up to no good?
"Who goes there?" he rasps back, wishing very much that he had even half as much of Geralt's resolve right about now.
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"Jaskier, are you hurt?" he whispers urgently, stepping closer so he can slip his arm through the bars of the cell, reaching into the darkness for Jaskier's hand. Perhaps it is unwise, he realizes, to come so close to a man backed into a desperate corner. Jaskier could hurt him. He has before, though only with his words, not with his hands. He persists still, his other hand coming to rest against the bars, the keys he's holding clinking against the metal.
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"Am I hurt, he asks?" Jaskier scoffed, dusting himself off dramatically, because even in distress he could not help it. It was in his nature to deflect, so as not to show any weakness. It was the only strength he had, the ability to perform, so he might as well put it to good use, right? "I shall live. I have not been interrogated yet, thankfully." Even though the fire fucker was no longer a concern, the association would be enough to fill him with enough fear to freeze up. He could not afford it, if Redanian intelligence should try to pry Ciri's whereabouts out of him.
"What in Melitele's tits are you even doing here?" he asked as he struggled to keep his expression neutral, even though memories of their time spent together started to rise to the surface, begging him to be a little softer.
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He straightened up at Jaskier's scoffing answer, squaring his shoulders to take it better, nodding. "No, I-" He answered, swallowing but meeting Jaskier's eyes. "I told them to wait until Philippa and Dijkstra were back." An easy enough order, as the guards would much rather wait until the true masters of the castle came back to take any kind of decision.
"I'm going to break you out," Radovid announced, pulling his hand back once it was clear Jaskier wasn't going to take it, holding up the keys instead. "I have the keys, I am kind of, um. The King?" That sounds almost like an apology, too. "They won't let me free you, but I've lived in this castle all my life. I know how to get in undetected, and how to get out."
@𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚞
plus, this meant getting out of america for a bit. only wayne knows where he is, which means no impromptu calls from his old man. the language barrier does mean that it's a little more challenging to make friends with the locals, but not impossible. he's even learned a few essential phrases in thai — enough to get him in good graces with shopkeepers and bartenders where eddie spends most of his off-time.
the white lotus. so long as eddie does all his assigned duties and nails his scheduled performance, fabian doesn't give a shit what he does on his aforementioned off-time. another boat full of guests has just arrived, and eddie puts on his most charming smile, hoping whatever guest family he's being whored off to this week is closer in age to him. fabian must have it out for him, based on the number of older bridge partners and families with small children who end up on eddie's list. he stands up straight, trying to nonchalantly get a glimpse at the next family when he hears fabian say his name. ah, another family...but with a son around his age. said son looks bored out of his mind, but that could just be eddie's imagination. given how much of a pain in the ass it is for anyone to get to this hellhole of a resort, he can't exactly blame the guy for looking so miserable. it's no problem for eddie, he'll just have to —
before he can even open his mouth, the man (his father?) addresses eddie in a manner that makes eddie's blood run cold. not that eddie should be so surprised. he knows this guy's type all too well. old money: anyone in the service industry is automatically beneath him.
this is going to be a long week... )
surprise.
he steps up with his mother and father to the line of greeters, and his eyes travel from the man speaking to them — fabian, the manager, as he explains — to smiling face to smiling face. when his gaze falls upon the guy at the right side, his father's voice cuts through the pleasantries. steve immediately looks down, the flowers placed on his wrist dangling. it's as if he's being spoken to that way, but then, thankfully — his mother chimes in. don't be so grumpy. sorry, he's been on the plane too long. jetlag. steve's eyes lift to the man around his age, and he mouths an i'm sorry — his father is too busy being placated by his mother. that's what always happens, and steve resents it. he always has. ]
I'm Steve. I was on the same plane.
[ a small joke, one that causes the side of his mouth to uptick as he looks back at the man, watching his face. his gaze then flicks to fabian and the rest of the greeters, and he offers a smile. he lifts his wrists, indicating the flowers and shaking them a bit. he smiles again. ]
What are these for — maybe you can tell me?
[ his focus then shifts back to him, and steve wonders why. yeah, he's handsome — pretty eyes, the way his mouth slightly pouts, his eyelashes when he blinks — it's all devastating, but there's a warmth steve can feel, too. he doesn't want him to think badly of his family right off the bat, so steve steps forward as his parents talk to fabian. ]