A collection of unrelated Worm one shots, as it says on the tin.
Unrelated Worm One Shots
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Things That Matter, Things That Don't
- Pronouns
- He/Him
A character study of Colin Wallis, from childhood to becoming Defiant.
Warning for Child Neglect.
-----
You love your parents, you think, in a cold, distant way.
You love them because you're supposed to. Because they pay for the roof over your head, for the food you eat, for the clothes you wear. You love them as well as you can love strangers.
They're never there. They're working.
(Work matters.)
(Work matters more than you do.)
They divorce.
Nothing changes.
(Sometimes, you can't remember which one is supposed to have custody of you.)
You grow up on leftovers you reheat yourself, on birthday gifts opened alone, on grocery money left on countertops.
You raise yourself in a empty house.
(You look up home in the dictionary, but you still don't understand what it means.)
You don't really like school, you think, but you're good at it.
You never skip, even though you're not sure your parents would even notice. You always pay attention to the teacher, always turn your homework in on time, always do the extra credits.
You don't let yourself get anything but As.
(Work matters.)
(If you work hard enough, so will you.)
You try your best.
It's not enough.
(You keep going anyway, because you may not be good enough now, but you will be.)
The teachers compliment your drive, your grades, your maturity and independence. They say you will go far.
You learn to be proud of it.
(It's not enough, but then, you don't know what would be.)
You don't like people, you think, but you make do.
You don't understand the unwritten codes, the ones everybody knows instinctively. You put your foot in your mouth, you're too blunt, you have no patience for small talk and pleasantries.
You feel like a stranger in the crowd.
(Those things matter.)
(You have to learn them if you want to.)
You learn.
It's hard.
(Sometimes, you stay awake at night wondering what is wrong with you.)
You learn the unwritten rules, the pleasantries, the small talk. You learn to understand expressions and tones like a second language.
You never stops having to think about it.
(You do your best, but you never quite figure out how to be kind.)
You like being a hero, you think, in a visceral, guilty way.
You like it because you're supposed to. Because you get to help people, to fight evil, to make the world a better place. You like it because people know your name.
You chose it for yourself.
(Heroes matter.)
(If you are one, so do you.)
Hero trains you.
Hero dies.
(You still have Hannah, and you still have Michael. They're not quite friends, but they're the closest you ever had.)
The complex game of small talk and handshakes bothers you even more since you got powers, the waste of time and effort like splinters under your skin, but as you rise through the Protectorate it becomes more and more important.
You don't like the game, but you play it.
(You've worked too hard to settle where you are.)
You love your team, you think, in a quiet, detached way.
You love them because you're supposed to. Because you're ready to die for them, and them for you, and you might actually have to in the end. You love them because you've fought side by side for years.
You care for each other, but you don't know how to be close.
(The work matters.)
(The work matters more than you do.)
They care.
It's not enough.
(There's something hungry inside you, something starving you you don't know how to feed.)
You didn't have a lot to start with, and Brockton Bay is falling apart, and so are the people supposed to protect it, and you give away part of yourself trying to keep it together. Dauntless is bright, and kind, easily getting better with each passing day.
You think you might hate him for it.
(You try to hide it, and know you failed.)
You love Dragon, you think, in a way you're not quite sure what to do with.
You love her because she's kind. Because she's smart, and good, and doesn't ask you to talk to say nothing. You love her because of a thousand little things you can't quite name.
You don't know why you love her, but you do.
(Dragon matters.)
(Dragon matters more than you do.)
You love her.
She doesn't.
(It's all right. She doesn't owe you anything, and her love least of all.)
You stand in front of her without your mask and she calls you by your name, the one you didn't choose, the one you gave in trust, and she doesn't give you hers.
She doesn't owe it to you.
(It still creates a wall you don't know how to breach.)
You hate Skitter, you think, with a mix of anger and despair.
You hate her because she fooled you. Because she's rising as you fall, because she's rising from your fall, because you're desperate and you don't know what to do. You hate her because she destroyed you.
You don't think she meant to, and you hate her all the more for it.
(Work matters.)
(You are nothing without it.)
She rises.
You fall.
(You're not kind, but she was scared when you met her, and so you tried to be.)
You wanted the glory from Lung, of course you did, but you wanted it for your work, on your own merit. You asked for it to keep her safe. You did not build yourself on lies.
You lose the work of fifteen years in a matter of days.
(You make your worst mistakes as your life falls apart around you.)
You like being Defiant, you think, more than you liked being Armsmaster.
You like it because it's a second chance. Because you like designing your own body, because it allows you to play your strengths, because you have a whole new way opened before you. You like it because you're in love.
You know you don't deserve it, but you seize the chance anyway.
(Dragon matters.)
(For her, at least, so do you.)
Mannequin came.
You spat in his face.
(You hate him, but you're glad. You're not sure Dragon would have told you the truth if you hadn't almost died.)
Mannequin was a wake up call, a twisted mirror, the realization of what you became. You look back, but you can't quite tell when your name became more important than your work.
You can't right the wrongs you did.
(You can try to help Dragon, to make the world a better place.)
You trust her to lead you right.
Warning for Child Neglect.
-----
You love your parents, you think, in a cold, distant way.
You love them because you're supposed to. Because they pay for the roof over your head, for the food you eat, for the clothes you wear. You love them as well as you can love strangers.
They're never there. They're working.
(Work matters.)
(Work matters more than you do.)
They divorce.
Nothing changes.
(Sometimes, you can't remember which one is supposed to have custody of you.)
You grow up on leftovers you reheat yourself, on birthday gifts opened alone, on grocery money left on countertops.
You raise yourself in a empty house.
(You look up home in the dictionary, but you still don't understand what it means.)
You don't really like school, you think, but you're good at it.
You never skip, even though you're not sure your parents would even notice. You always pay attention to the teacher, always turn your homework in on time, always do the extra credits.
You don't let yourself get anything but As.
(Work matters.)
(If you work hard enough, so will you.)
You try your best.
It's not enough.
(You keep going anyway, because you may not be good enough now, but you will be.)
The teachers compliment your drive, your grades, your maturity and independence. They say you will go far.
You learn to be proud of it.
(It's not enough, but then, you don't know what would be.)
You don't like people, you think, but you make do.
You don't understand the unwritten codes, the ones everybody knows instinctively. You put your foot in your mouth, you're too blunt, you have no patience for small talk and pleasantries.
You feel like a stranger in the crowd.
(Those things matter.)
(You have to learn them if you want to.)
You learn.
It's hard.
(Sometimes, you stay awake at night wondering what is wrong with you.)
You learn the unwritten rules, the pleasantries, the small talk. You learn to understand expressions and tones like a second language.
You never stops having to think about it.
(You do your best, but you never quite figure out how to be kind.)
You like being a hero, you think, in a visceral, guilty way.
You like it because you're supposed to. Because you get to help people, to fight evil, to make the world a better place. You like it because people know your name.
You chose it for yourself.
(Heroes matter.)
(If you are one, so do you.)
Hero trains you.
Hero dies.
(You still have Hannah, and you still have Michael. They're not quite friends, but they're the closest you ever had.)
The complex game of small talk and handshakes bothers you even more since you got powers, the waste of time and effort like splinters under your skin, but as you rise through the Protectorate it becomes more and more important.
You don't like the game, but you play it.
(You've worked too hard to settle where you are.)
You love your team, you think, in a quiet, detached way.
You love them because you're supposed to. Because you're ready to die for them, and them for you, and you might actually have to in the end. You love them because you've fought side by side for years.
You care for each other, but you don't know how to be close.
(The work matters.)
(The work matters more than you do.)
They care.
It's not enough.
(There's something hungry inside you, something starving you you don't know how to feed.)
You didn't have a lot to start with, and Brockton Bay is falling apart, and so are the people supposed to protect it, and you give away part of yourself trying to keep it together. Dauntless is bright, and kind, easily getting better with each passing day.
You think you might hate him for it.
(You try to hide it, and know you failed.)
You love Dragon, you think, in a way you're not quite sure what to do with.
You love her because she's kind. Because she's smart, and good, and doesn't ask you to talk to say nothing. You love her because of a thousand little things you can't quite name.
You don't know why you love her, but you do.
(Dragon matters.)
(Dragon matters more than you do.)
You love her.
She doesn't.
(It's all right. She doesn't owe you anything, and her love least of all.)
You stand in front of her without your mask and she calls you by your name, the one you didn't choose, the one you gave in trust, and she doesn't give you hers.
She doesn't owe it to you.
(It still creates a wall you don't know how to breach.)
You hate Skitter, you think, with a mix of anger and despair.
You hate her because she fooled you. Because she's rising as you fall, because she's rising from your fall, because you're desperate and you don't know what to do. You hate her because she destroyed you.
You don't think she meant to, and you hate her all the more for it.
(Work matters.)
(You are nothing without it.)
She rises.
You fall.
(You're not kind, but she was scared when you met her, and so you tried to be.)
You wanted the glory from Lung, of course you did, but you wanted it for your work, on your own merit. You asked for it to keep her safe. You did not build yourself on lies.
You lose the work of fifteen years in a matter of days.
(You make your worst mistakes as your life falls apart around you.)
You like being Defiant, you think, more than you liked being Armsmaster.
You like it because it's a second chance. Because you like designing your own body, because it allows you to play your strengths, because you have a whole new way opened before you. You like it because you're in love.
You know you don't deserve it, but you seize the chance anyway.
(Dragon matters.)
(For her, at least, so do you.)
Mannequin came.
You spat in his face.
(You hate him, but you're glad. You're not sure Dragon would have told you the truth if you hadn't almost died.)
Mannequin was a wake up call, a twisted mirror, the realization of what you became. You look back, but you can't quite tell when your name became more important than your work.
You can't right the wrongs you did.
(You can try to help Dragon, to make the world a better place.)
You trust her to lead you right.
I realized after writing this that Hero having mentored Armsmaster is fanon, but since it works timeline-wise I'm leaving it there.
Romantic Entanglement
- Pronouns
- He/Him
---
When Rory graduates from the Wards to the Protectorate, he doesn't know much about them.
The Wards are, in Brockton Bay, under the responsibility of the PRT, and their headquarters are in different buildings, which themselves are in different parts of the city. Their interactions are limited.
So no, Rory doesn't know a lot about his new coworkers.
He knows their powers. The most obvious aspects of their personality. Due to a complex incident involving Squealer and girl scouts, that Dauntless's favorite syrup flavor is cactus.
Oh, and he knows Assault and Battery are married.
Which makes walking on Assault kissing Miss Militia incredibly awkward.
It takes two days to Rory to come to a decision.
He's the new guy. He hasn't found his place in the team yet. He doesn't want Battery to be mad at him for bringing bad news. Or Assault for telling on him. Or Miss Militia for interfering in her affair with Assault.
He can't believe they're having an affair.
But in the end, Battery – Samantha, she wants him to call her Samantha – deserves to know.
It's the right thing to do.
When Rory goes to see her in her office, the door is open, so he doesn't bother knocking.
She's kissing Velocity.
Rory is conflicted again.
Should he tell Battery? Should he tell Assault? Should he tell both? Should he keep quiet, stay out of it, and let them sort their mess of a relationship by themselves?
Maybe he could ask for advice to Daun… To Shawn. He's been pretty friendly so far.
That's a good plan.
Until he overhears him talking about the date he's planning to take Miss Militia on.
Also, the way he rests his head in Velocity's lap on the break room's sofa is not platonic.
They're all terrible, horrible, cheating people.
The only sane man here is Armsmaster, and no, Rory is not going to call him Colin, thank you very much.
Armsmaster is serious. Armsmaster is professional. Armsmaster doesn't have time for petty drama. Rory isn't going to walk on him kissing Velocity or anything like that.
Right?
Well.
No.
Rory definitely did just walk on Armsmaster kissing Velocity in the break room.
Rory is done.
Done.
Done.
He's just going to do his job and ignore his teammates' drama.
And hope very hard he manages to stay out of it when it inevitably blows up in their faces.
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Lady Cob
- Pronouns
- He/Him
There are three blocks in Brockton Bay where gang members have stopped going.
She will know.
(She always does.)
She will be displeased.
(And you don't want to displease her, do you?)
There is a cape in Brockton Bay nobody ever saw.
Her name is Cob.
(The spiders whispered it to those who asked after her.)
The people in her blocks have taken to precede it with 'Lady', for she is kind and she protects them.
(For you never know what she might hear.)
There is a place in Brockton Bay Lady Cob watches over.
You can't see her, but you know she's there by the spiders on the walls spinning too-thick Webs.
(If she needs to talk to you, the spiders will whisper her message.)
Lady Cob keeps the peace in her blocks.
(She is judge, jury, and executioner.)
There are three blocks in Brockton Bay where people are happy.
They are happy because they are safe.
(Lady Cob keeps good people safe.)
They feel safe because if they are good, they have no reason to be scared.
(You aren't scared, are you?)
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Friendly Neighborhood Cat
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Contrary to popular opinion, Colin Wallis does have a house, in which he does, occasionally, sleep.
Just because he spends more nights in the Rig than there doesn't mean he doesn't have a house.
He should probably do something about the AC. As it is, he's going to have to keep his bedroom window open if he wants to sleep tonight. The room is to hot for him to do otherwise.
A weight on his legs wakes Colin up in the middle of the night.
He doesn't react at first, mind still too foggy too understand what is going on, until the weight on his legs shift.
He turns on the light and sits up, mentally preparing for a fight.
The cat in his lap purrs.
Colin stares at it.
The cat keeps purring, and attempts to climb on his chest.
Ten minutes later, Colin has finally managed to get himself out from under the cat without harming the animal.
(No one can know about this. No one. Ever.)
The cat. Is still. Purring.
And it's loud, too. Like a small car engine. Are cats supposed to be that loud when they purr?
Colin is too sleep deprived for this shit.
The cat follows Colin around across his house like a big, furry duckling who swallowed a defective engine.
Colin isn't sure how to get it out of the house. Carrying it would be the easiest solution, but…
The cat is small. And thin. Full of tiny, delicate bones. Colin can't possibly pick it up without breaking something.
The cat is very, very thin.
The cat rubs itself against his legs.
It looks hungry. It probably came in looking for food.
Colin opens a can of tuna.
If he gives it what it wants, it will probably leave.
A Mouse Called Imogen Cole
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Robin found the mouse while coming back from a patrol.
It was a small, quivering little thing, backed in a corner by a cat about to pounce.
Robin scared the cat away and, after a second of hesitation, took the mouse with him.
It was just too cute not too.
---
Closer inspection confirmed that the mouse was, actually, a female, and Robin decided to call her Imogen, after the old lady living in the house beside his. He also decided to keep her on PHQ.
The latter decision proved to be a mistake when Imogen then proceeded to escape the box he was keeping her in.
Fortunately, he found her before any evil could befall her.
Unfortunately, he did not find her before she could eat through the wiring of Armsmaster's coffee machine.
Robin decided to change Imogen's place of residence.
---
The Wards were surprisingly enthusiastic about their new unofficial mascot.
Clockblocker did insist to append the surname "Cole", after his old English teacher, to the name she already had, but Robin is fine with that. "Imogen Cole" has a nice ring to it.
He trusts them to take care of her.
It was a small, quivering little thing, backed in a corner by a cat about to pounce.
Robin scared the cat away and, after a second of hesitation, took the mouse with him.
It was just too cute not too.
---
Closer inspection confirmed that the mouse was, actually, a female, and Robin decided to call her Imogen, after the old lady living in the house beside his. He also decided to keep her on PHQ.
The latter decision proved to be a mistake when Imogen then proceeded to escape the box he was keeping her in.
Fortunately, he found her before any evil could befall her.
Unfortunately, he did not find her before she could eat through the wiring of Armsmaster's coffee machine.
Robin decided to change Imogen's place of residence.
---
The Wards were surprisingly enthusiastic about their new unofficial mascot.
Clockblocker did insist to append the surname "Cole", after his old English teacher, to the name she already had, but Robin is fine with that. "Imogen Cole" has a nice ring to it.
He trusts them to take care of her.
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People Watching
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Rosa's neighbor isn't often home.
Rosa knows many things about her neighbors, probably more than they think she does.
It's been a long time since Angela and Maria left to built their own families. Juanita has children of her own, now.
There isn't much for her to do with her day beside watching the neighbors.
And the one in the appartement in front of hers isn't often home.
The Neighbor comes home late, when he comes at all. Sometimes a full night goes by before she sees him, or two, or three. The longest time he went without going home was two weeks, but it's far from usual, and Rosa thinks he must have been on vacations.
Curious. Very curious.
Rosa resolves to keep watching the Neighbor.
She's always liked mysteries.
Rosa might be in slightly over her head.
She thinks the Neighbor might be a cape.
Since there seemed to be no clear pattern as to his absences, she took the habit of writing them down on a calendar, in the hope of discerning one.
There is, indeed, a pattern. The absences almost always occur either when cape violence flairs up in the city, or after Endbringers attacks.
The Neighbor is probably a cape.
Since it is pretty unlikely that anyone will suddenly realize Rosa knows the Neighbor is a cape, she decides to keep watching him.
She wonders which cape he is?
Hmm.
He's not home during Endbringers attacks, which means he's part of the Protectorate, and only one of the Protectorate heroes have a beard.
Hmm.
Maria asked her to watch her children for the weekend.
Olivia, Julia and José are delightful and lively, and it's always a treat to have them over.
They spend a lovely day at the Boardwalk, and José is surexcited as they go home, and runs straight into the Neighbor.
He takes it pretty well, and Rosa finally gets a formal introduction, and with it, his name.
Later, when Maria comes to get Olivia, Julia and Jose, she asks Rosa how she is doing. If there is anything new in her life.
Rosa thinks about the Neighbor.
She doesn't say I discovered Armsmaster's secret identity. It sounds like bad decision making.
"I got to know one of my neighbors," Rosa says. "He seems to be a pretty good guy so far."
Rosa knows many things about her neighbors, probably more than they think she does.
It's been a long time since Angela and Maria left to built their own families. Juanita has children of her own, now.
There isn't much for her to do with her day beside watching the neighbors.
And the one in the appartement in front of hers isn't often home.
The Neighbor comes home late, when he comes at all. Sometimes a full night goes by before she sees him, or two, or three. The longest time he went without going home was two weeks, but it's far from usual, and Rosa thinks he must have been on vacations.
Curious. Very curious.
Rosa resolves to keep watching the Neighbor.
She's always liked mysteries.
Rosa might be in slightly over her head.
She thinks the Neighbor might be a cape.
Since there seemed to be no clear pattern as to his absences, she took the habit of writing them down on a calendar, in the hope of discerning one.
There is, indeed, a pattern. The absences almost always occur either when cape violence flairs up in the city, or after Endbringers attacks.
The Neighbor is probably a cape.
Since it is pretty unlikely that anyone will suddenly realize Rosa knows the Neighbor is a cape, she decides to keep watching him.
She wonders which cape he is?
Hmm.
He's not home during Endbringers attacks, which means he's part of the Protectorate, and only one of the Protectorate heroes have a beard.
Hmm.
Maria asked her to watch her children for the weekend.
Olivia, Julia and José are delightful and lively, and it's always a treat to have them over.
They spend a lovely day at the Boardwalk, and José is surexcited as they go home, and runs straight into the Neighbor.
He takes it pretty well, and Rosa finally gets a formal introduction, and with it, his name.
Later, when Maria comes to get Olivia, Julia and Jose, she asks Rosa how she is doing. If there is anything new in her life.
Rosa thinks about the Neighbor.
She doesn't say I discovered Armsmaster's secret identity. It sounds like bad decision making.
"I got to know one of my neighbors," Rosa says. "He seems to be a pretty good guy so far."
Icarus soared
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Taylor got more than just powers from the locker. She got wings.
All capes have wings.
Taylor's wings are bug wings, of course. They're not made of light or feathers like Legend's or Myrddin's, not butterfly or fairy wings either. They're not pretty, or enchanting, not the king of wings she would have dreamed of.
Taylor looked them up on internet. They're ant wings.
It could be worse, Taylor supposes. Ant wings aren't pretty, but they're not ugly either.
Still.
Taylor doesn't like the idea of being an ant. Of being a small, weak thing to be crushed under boots.
People say Skitter has mosquito wings.
Taylor doesn't bother trying to correct them. What would be the point?
Mosquitoes are villainous, and she is pretending to be a villain, after all.
She is a villain.
Mosquitoes don't appear to be much, at first glance. An annoyance, at worse. Not a threat.
But in the end, mosquitoes kill, and so does she.
Glenn says Weaver will have bee wings. It's the less villainous bug he could plausibility associate to her.
Taylor is fine with that, mostly. At least, it's not butterfly or fairy wings, not something pretty and useless.
Bees sting.
Bees are also industrious, and so Taylor must be, if she wants to prevent the end of the world.
Taylor doesn't only lose her powers during Gold Morning. She loses her wings, too, torn apart and left to rot amongst the ruins.
It's all right.
They never let her fly anyway.
All capes have wings.
Taylor's wings are bug wings, of course. They're not made of light or feathers like Legend's or Myrddin's, not butterfly or fairy wings either. They're not pretty, or enchanting, not the king of wings she would have dreamed of.
Taylor looked them up on internet. They're ant wings.
It could be worse, Taylor supposes. Ant wings aren't pretty, but they're not ugly either.
Still.
Taylor doesn't like the idea of being an ant. Of being a small, weak thing to be crushed under boots.
People say Skitter has mosquito wings.
Taylor doesn't bother trying to correct them. What would be the point?
Mosquitoes are villainous, and she is pretending to be a villain, after all.
She is a villain.
Mosquitoes don't appear to be much, at first glance. An annoyance, at worse. Not a threat.
But in the end, mosquitoes kill, and so does she.
Glenn says Weaver will have bee wings. It's the less villainous bug he could plausibility associate to her.
Taylor is fine with that, mostly. At least, it's not butterfly or fairy wings, not something pretty and useless.
Bees sting.
Bees are also industrious, and so Taylor must be, if she wants to prevent the end of the world.
Taylor doesn't only lose her powers during Gold Morning. She loses her wings, too, torn apart and left to rot amongst the ruins.
It's all right.
They never let her fly anyway.
Not Forever, But Memories
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The first time Joshua kisses Colin, they just fought Behemoth.
They're alive. They made it. Through the chaos, through the earth shaking and the lightning strikes and the people dying around them.
People call it the Hero Killer.
They're alive. They made it, and Colin is right there.
The metal of their armors grates uncomfortably against each other, and the kiss tastes like blood from Colin's split lip.
They're alive.
It becomes something of a ritual between them, to spend the night together after a brush with death.
They don't live together. They don't even live in the same city, most of the time, Colin's strike squad moving across the country, following the last problem to pop up.
They still see each other, though, when something happens that needs all hands on deck, or when things calm down long enough for Colin to spend a few days with him, first in New York, then in Philadelphia.
They talk. About the last fight, and the next, and the progresses they have made and the mistakes to avoid, and it feels nice. Joshua is still Chevalier, Colin is still Armsmaster, but they're not alone.
They're alive.
They might not survive the next fight, but at least, they made it through this one.
Not everyone is as lucky as they are.
They're standing in the wreckage after a Leviathan attack, knee-deep in seawater and trying not to think about how the civilians must have felt as they saw the waves coming, too fast for them to reach the shelters.
There are dead bodies in the water. Heroes. Villains. Children.
"I want to kill one of them," Colin says. "The Endbringers. I want them to die, and I want to kill them myself."
Joshua doesn't know what to say to that.
Colin is sent to Brockton Bay to lead the local Protectorate team, and they start to see each other less, both kept in place by their responsibilities.
They call each other instead.
It's not the same.
They still see each other at Endbringer fights, or when something happens and all hands on deck are needed. They still care about each other.
Colin still calls.
Sometimes.
They just fought Behemoth when Joshua realizes he hasn't talked to Colin in over two months.
Oh.
It's over, isn't it ?
Joshua bit the inside of his mouth during the fight.
He tastes blood.
They're alive. They made it. Through the chaos, through the earth shaking and the lightning strikes and the people dying around them.
People call it the Hero Killer.
They're alive. They made it, and Colin is right there.
The metal of their armors grates uncomfortably against each other, and the kiss tastes like blood from Colin's split lip.
They're alive.
It becomes something of a ritual between them, to spend the night together after a brush with death.
They don't live together. They don't even live in the same city, most of the time, Colin's strike squad moving across the country, following the last problem to pop up.
They still see each other, though, when something happens that needs all hands on deck, or when things calm down long enough for Colin to spend a few days with him, first in New York, then in Philadelphia.
They talk. About the last fight, and the next, and the progresses they have made and the mistakes to avoid, and it feels nice. Joshua is still Chevalier, Colin is still Armsmaster, but they're not alone.
They're alive.
They might not survive the next fight, but at least, they made it through this one.
Not everyone is as lucky as they are.
They're standing in the wreckage after a Leviathan attack, knee-deep in seawater and trying not to think about how the civilians must have felt as they saw the waves coming, too fast for them to reach the shelters.
There are dead bodies in the water. Heroes. Villains. Children.
"I want to kill one of them," Colin says. "The Endbringers. I want them to die, and I want to kill them myself."
Joshua doesn't know what to say to that.
Colin is sent to Brockton Bay to lead the local Protectorate team, and they start to see each other less, both kept in place by their responsibilities.
They call each other instead.
It's not the same.
They still see each other at Endbringer fights, or when something happens and all hands on deck are needed. They still care about each other.
Colin still calls.
Sometimes.
They just fought Behemoth when Joshua realizes he hasn't talked to Colin in over two months.
Oh.
It's over, isn't it ?
Joshua bit the inside of his mouth during the fight.
He tastes blood.
Love Language
- Pronouns
- He/Him
There is food in the kitchen.
There is a lot of food in the kitchen. Fancy food, as much as possible with Drachenheim's limited resources. His favorites, or as close as Dragon could come to. It must have taken her at least the entire afternoon to prepare everything.
Colin feels a surge of affection.
God, is he lucky to have her.
Colin manages to convince Dragon to skip the candles, but not the birthday song.
She even got him a gift.
"You didn't have to," Colin says. "Your presence is everything I need."
"I wanted to," Dragon says.
The gift is soft, green fabric, wrapped in a cloth bag. A scarf, Colin realizes as he unfolds it, matching with Dragon's own.
Colin puts it on.
"I love you," he tells Dragon as he leans in for a kiss.
"I love you too," she says, and she kisses him back.
There is a lot of food in the kitchen. Fancy food, as much as possible with Drachenheim's limited resources. His favorites, or as close as Dragon could come to. It must have taken her at least the entire afternoon to prepare everything.
Colin feels a surge of affection.
God, is he lucky to have her.
Colin manages to convince Dragon to skip the candles, but not the birthday song.
She even got him a gift.
"You didn't have to," Colin says. "Your presence is everything I need."
"I wanted to," Dragon says.
The gift is soft, green fabric, wrapped in a cloth bag. A scarf, Colin realizes as he unfolds it, matching with Dragon's own.
Colin puts it on.
"I love you," he tells Dragon as he leans in for a kiss.
"I love you too," she says, and she kisses him back.
Sponge Cake and Swiss Knives
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Colin has a headache.
It was to be expected, really. He worked until four in the morning before sleeping at his desk, and it's only eight. At least he's caught up on the requisition forms.
Colin stretches his arms and back, and gets up.
Coffee. He needs coffee.
When Colin reaches the break room, his entire team is there.
There is a cake on the table, besides a small pile of gift. The "Happy Birthday" banner has been taken out of its drawer and hung to the Wall.
Shit. Shit. Whose birthday is it? He completely forgot.
"Happy birthday , Colin!" Hannah says.
Oh. Right.
He completely forgot.
It turns out that five people singing "Happy Birthday" with varying degrees of enthusiasm does not mesh well with Colin's headache, and makes the whole thing more painful than strictly necessary.
Colin valiantly keeps on his most sincere smile anyway. They did go through the effort of preparing him a surprise birthday party.
Colin wishes for a murder-free year, fully aware that he won't get it, and blows the candles.
He really needs to find a way to tell Hannah he hates sponge cakes one day.
Colin opens his presents.
Hannah got him a box with an assortment ridiculously expensive chocolates. They look delicious.
Assault and Samantha decided to make a common gift, and picked some kind of scotch, which is inconvenient since Colin doesn't drink.
Robin and Dauntless both got him Swiss army knives, and are mortified by the double gift.
Colin already had five different Swiss army knives from previous Christmas and birthdays, and resolves to never tell either of them.
Samantha insists they need to take a group picture, and Colin looks at Hannah, who has lowered her bandana to show her face, then at Robin, who removed his mask and covered his bodysuit with a pink hoodie, and finally at the three others, entirely in their civvies.
"You can't take it outside this building," he says, and Robin is tasked with setting up the camera.
Colin hopes his wince at the flash isn't too visible.
Colin puts the knives and the bottle of scotch in a bag with the intention of bringing them to his house and putting them on the same shelf as his other Swiss army knives, and hides the chocolates in his desk drawer for a very bad day. After a moment of hesitation, he pins the picture to the wall above his desk.
It was nice of them all to remember his birthday.
It was to be expected, really. He worked until four in the morning before sleeping at his desk, and it's only eight. At least he's caught up on the requisition forms.
Colin stretches his arms and back, and gets up.
Coffee. He needs coffee.
When Colin reaches the break room, his entire team is there.
There is a cake on the table, besides a small pile of gift. The "Happy Birthday" banner has been taken out of its drawer and hung to the Wall.
Shit. Shit. Whose birthday is it? He completely forgot.
"Happy birthday , Colin!" Hannah says.
Oh. Right.
He completely forgot.
It turns out that five people singing "Happy Birthday" with varying degrees of enthusiasm does not mesh well with Colin's headache, and makes the whole thing more painful than strictly necessary.
Colin valiantly keeps on his most sincere smile anyway. They did go through the effort of preparing him a surprise birthday party.
Colin wishes for a murder-free year, fully aware that he won't get it, and blows the candles.
He really needs to find a way to tell Hannah he hates sponge cakes one day.
Colin opens his presents.
Hannah got him a box with an assortment ridiculously expensive chocolates. They look delicious.
Assault and Samantha decided to make a common gift, and picked some kind of scotch, which is inconvenient since Colin doesn't drink.
Robin and Dauntless both got him Swiss army knives, and are mortified by the double gift.
Colin already had five different Swiss army knives from previous Christmas and birthdays, and resolves to never tell either of them.
Samantha insists they need to take a group picture, and Colin looks at Hannah, who has lowered her bandana to show her face, then at Robin, who removed his mask and covered his bodysuit with a pink hoodie, and finally at the three others, entirely in their civvies.
"You can't take it outside this building," he says, and Robin is tasked with setting up the camera.
Colin hopes his wince at the flash isn't too visible.
Colin puts the knives and the bottle of scotch in a bag with the intention of bringing them to his house and putting them on the same shelf as his other Swiss army knives, and hides the chocolates in his desk drawer for a very bad day. After a moment of hesitation, he pins the picture to the wall above his desk.
It was nice of them all to remember his birthday.
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