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Today's Document

Kiana Khansmith
ojovivo
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Jules of Nature

Kaledo Art

oozey mess
Monterey Bay Aquarium
No title available
d e v o n
KIROKAZE
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

No title available
No title available
Sade Olutola
dirt enthusiast
Misplaced Lens Cap
No title available
YOU ARE THE REASON

Janaina Medeiros
seen from Canada

seen from Spain
seen from Brazil
seen from Greece

seen from India
seen from United States

seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Iraq
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
@katt58
🌸 Preorders are now Open! 🌸
The moment has finally arrived! Raise the curtain and cue the celebration. Our Prelude to a Kiss is available for preorder! 💞
🌸 Bundles and details available here and on our website.
💌 Click here to Order
I re-blogged this (the first time) in 2014. Today, I tried half a dozen times to re-blog it, and it wouldn’t work. So, I saved the images and re-posted it. I hope it helps make life a little easier. :-) The original post is by iraffiruse.
Long but cool as hell.
I’ve been using these tips for ten years and not one has failed me.
remember when “lifehacks” were useful?
Those where the days.
this blog hates donald trump
Look how many people hate him. I’m pretty damn happy about that 😁😁😁😁😁😁
Invisible Silver Linings (7/7)
Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x F!Reader
Series Warnings: 18+, Thunderbolts* spoilers, language, angst, mentions of scars, mentions of self-harm/suicidal ideations
Summary: You signed on to become part of a study when you realized that you didn't have anything left to lose. What harm could it really do? How much worse could it really get? ... You didn't expect to get answers to those questions. You also didn't expect to meet Bob. You'd end up thankful for at least one of those things.
Chapter Index
Word Count: 2.1k
A/N: here we are! the last chapter! this is the last part of this particular story but i might write more for Bob and this reader down the road if y'all would be interested. i feel like there's more they could get into. lemme know what you think! and thank you to everyone who followed along on this journey with me! I'm looking forward to writing more of Bob in the future for sure xo
He came to on the hard, unforgiving pavement of New York City streets. He was surrounded by the groans and grumbles of the entire team around him as they also got themselves okay and upright. But beyond the immediacy of that, the city was alive with the sounds of sirens and chaos, and not the type people typically attributed to New York City.
He was waiting for someone to answer his question about what had happened when he heard another voice let out a groan of pain and confusion. His brows knit together as he turned around to try and find the source. Looking down, he was sure that he had slammed his head too hard on the ground and was hallucinating when he saw you. You were a little banged up from whatever you'd been through since he last saw you, but you were there. In front of him.
It'd felt like ages since you heard someone real say your name, someone who wasn't frantically screaming it out in the confines of your memories. It took a moment for it to register, at first just thinking that after so much monotony you'd been thrown into a new room once more. Even before it'd all come into focus, you were just glad, to hear something other than the bathtub faucet. The pain in your body was secondary to the relief. It was only when you heard your name again that you realized who exactly it was that was speaking to you.
Looking up, it felt like all of your bones instantly melted into jelly as you took in the sight of a disheveled, confused Bob staring down at you. He went to hold his hands out to help you up, but then pulled them away, knowing what had happened the last time his hands touched yours.
Every word you wanted to say got caught in your throat as you stared up at him. You watched him go back and forth between looking at you and looking at his hands. The frown on his face let you know that he was thinking about that day in the lab. But his hands were no longer the same color as all the shadows had been. His knuckles were scraped and bruised, but he was himself again in the ways that mattered to you.
Perhaps you should've shared some of his concern, especially after the torture you'd been enduring in the interim, but you didn't. Pressing your palms into the ground, you forced yourself up onto your feet. Bob was trying to stammer his way through some kind of sentence when you threw your arms around him and pulled him into a hug.
He recoiled for a moment at the feeling of your arms around his neck, still afraid to return your embrace just in case he lost you again. But when he felt the way your sobs were racking your chest as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, he couldn’t help but to wrap his arms around you. He kept his hands closed into tight fists, like all the harm he had done came from his fingertips alone. You didn’t seem to notice, or if you did, he figured you didn’t care. The longer you held him, the harder it became for him to keep that final degree of separation from you. He unfurled his hands, allowing them to splay across your back.
The warmth of his palms through your shirt felt familiar. Focusing on that sensation alone, you could feel the way that he pressed his fingertips into you harder, going from afraid to touch you at all, to afraid that you were going to slip away. It didn't hit you until his fingers curled into your top that you realized the reason his touch felt so familiar was because it was the last thing that you felt before waking up on the pavement.
All he could think about was how it was his hands, his touch that had sent you away. But as you felt the tremble in his fingers you knew that it'd been what brought you back, too.
The two of you stood there like that for an amount of time neither of you would've been able to take a guess at before you finally let him go. Stepping back, your hands lingered on his shoulders for a moment before you finally brought them back to your sides. You brushed the tears off your face, unable to stop staring at him.
“You wouldn’t believe how good it is to see you,” you said, a little breathless from it all. “I thought for sure I was just gonna be—”
“I'm sorry,” he blurt out, cutting you off.
“What?”
“I'm sorry for what I did. To you. I'm sorry for wherever I sent you.” His voice weakened the longer he thought about it. “I didn’t mean to. I tried to say—”
It was your turn to interrupt. “I know.” You stepped in closer, not taking it personally that he reflexively took a tiny step back. “None of this makes any sense. At least,” you let out a tired laugh, “at least not to me.”
“Doesn't make much sense to us either,” Yelena spoke up, inserting herself into the scene that had been playing out in front of her. She waited until both you and Bob were looking at her to say, “Who are you?”
It hit you that you probably cut a bit of a strange image. Exhausted, filthy, and still in those stupid scrub-like pajamas they'd given you at the lab back when all of this started. Plus she'd never seen you before. What a first impression. You gave her your name, making a vague gesture over your shoulder like the building you were talking about was right there, not a pile of rubble miles and miles away. “We met in the lab. Test subjects and cell neighbors.”
Her face hardened at your words. “They tested on you too? Does that mean you can also—”
“No,” you said, shaking your head earnestly. “Whatever they did to me, didn't do much. Bad batch or whatever, maybe. Didn't, um, didn't really make it to phase two.” You paused, not sure if you should say what she was planning on saying next.
Luckily, Bob said it for you. “I got to them before they could.” It wasn't a statement of pride or accomplishment. He couldn’t look at you or Yelena as he said it.
She frowned but nodded, convinced enough for now. There were much larger problems to deal with at the moment. That fact was evidenced by the way that she and the rest of her team took off after a woman that you didn’t quite recognize, peppering her with questions and accusatory statements.
It left you and Bob behind in a small pile of rubble. Prying his gaze up from the ground, he looked at you with nothing in his eyes but worry and tears. “I'm sorry.”
You shook your head, feeling the familiar burn of your own tears forming. “I'm okay. I'm okay now. We're, you know, we're here.”
He pulled away, stuffing his hands into his pockets when you reached for them again. He gave a small shake of his head. “I don't…I can't control it, I don't think. Not all the way.”
You shrugged, reaching for his wrist anyway. “What've I got to lose?”
He hesitated. “You, you just got sunlight back. And clocks.”
You smiled. “That is true.” You pulled his hand out of his pocket. “But something tells me we'll be alright.”
It took him another second to finally unfurl his hand, to allow it to touch your skin. He was holding his breath as you went to slide your hand into his. And, for all the confidence you were doing your best to exude in an attempt to comfort him, you had to admit that your breath was caught in your throat as well.
Your fingertips glided over his palm, and the only thing that happened as a warmth spreading out over your entire body, starting from the center of your chest. Slipping your fingers between his, you grasped his hand. It was only when he did the same in turn and neither of you disappeared, no one got shuttered off to the dark recesses of their memories that Bob actually let himself breathe. His shoulders sagged from the relief of it all. And in that moment he looked just like the guy who had walked in and sat down on the floor next to you, who knows how many days ago at this point.
“Now what?” you asked, staring at his face while he stared at your joined hands.
“Um, I'm not—”
“Hey!” Yelena called out from farther down the block. “Reunite later. Finish the fight now, okay?” She looked at you. “I'm sure you're, yeah, but we have important things to finish.”
Bob's eyes went wide, all the other pressing matters coming to the forefront of his mind again. Clearly a lot had happened in your absence. “Right!” He looked at you. “Right. I gotta—”
You let go of his hand and gestured for him to go off with the rest of them. “Go. We’ll reunite later.”
He had a lopsided grin on his face as he nodded. “Okay. Later.”
He started to walk away when it hit you that just because you were back, later was not guaranteed. You might've been back in the real world with real people, but how much was that really worth in terms of reassurance? Even before all of this, you had come face to face with just how fleeting things could be, just how quickly it could all get ripped away. You'd accumulated enough regrets over the years, you weren't going to keep adding to the tally if you could help it. Not when you'd been reliving your worst regrets on repeat for so long.
Going after him, you caught his hand again. “Hey, wait a second.”
You pulled, causing him to turn back around so that he was facing you. For once his eyes widened with confusion that didn’t have the underlying layer of fear. Before he could ask what you needed, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. His eyes widened farther for a moment, not having expected a kiss in the wake of everything that had happened and all that he had put you through, but it didn’t stop him from kissing you back.
Bob kissed the same way that he spoke: soft, nervous, not quite sure what to do with his hands. You were almost certain that you could feel his heart racing in his chest as his lips moved against yours. It was everything. If you'd been worried up until that point that you were still stuck in some sort of fever dream, those worries were gone now. The feeling of him kissing you, of your palm against his cheek, they were the realest things that you had felt in ages. Your fingertips and palm warmed against his skin.
The concept of time had been foreign to you for so long now. You weren't sure if you stood there kissing him for five seconds or five minutes. However long it was, it wasn't enough to get the two of you yelled at by his team again.
As he took a step back, your hand fell back to your side from where it'd been against his cheek. He untangled his hand from yours, although the look in his eyes let you know how much he didn’t want to do that. Finally a comfort where worry had been living.
He couldn’t stop looking at you as he walked backwards towards where his team was. “I, I gotta,” he motioned over his shoulder, “but when I'm, when we're done I can—”
You put him out of his misery, knowing there were far too many thoughts flying around inside that head of his. All of them would take more time for him to explain and for you to understand than what you had at the moment. “I'll be here, Bob.” You gestured towards the rest of his team. “Go.”
“Right,” he said with a nod. “Okay.”
Turning around, he went to run and catch up with everyone else. You covered your mouth to stifle your laughter as he tripped and nearly tumbled to the ground as he tried to get to them. He caught himself and recovered, brushing himself off even though he hadn't fallen all the way down. When he looked back over his shoulder at you before disappearing through the curtain, you couldn’t help but to mirror the smile that he gave you. You gave him a small wave to send him off, and in the wake of all that had happened, everything leading up to meeting Bob and the chaos that had unfolded since, you had to admit it was the most okay you'd felt in a long time. The road ahead was still full of unknowns, but it didn't seem like you'd be facing them alone. Finally.
Marvel Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added!): @garbinge @blackhawkfanatic @mommymilkers0526 @villainfan @i-heart-marvel
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Invisible Silver Linings (6/7)
Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x F!Reader
Series Warnings: 18+, Thunderbolts* spoilers, language, angst, mentions of scars, mentions of self-harm/suicidal ideations
Summary: You signed on to become part of a study when you realized that you didn't have anything left to lose. What harm could it really do? How much worse could it really get? ... You didn't expect to get answers to those questions. You also didn't expect to meet Bob. You'd end up thankful for at least one of those things.
Chapter Index
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: trauma-filled mind palaces were such a choice on marvel's part. can't wait to create so much more angst using them in the future 😌
The loop that you were stuck in now made the windowless, clockless, lightless abyss of the lab basement seem like heaven. No matter how many times you ripped open that shitty bathroom door, you just landed right back in the same room again. Or another room that had you breaking through windows and kicking in doors to not have to watch the memories play out over and over again without reprieve. You had no idea what this place was, how you got here, or how you were supposed to get out. You wondered how long you had been fighting to just end up back in the same room all over again. They all seemed to circle back to each other.
Eventually, when you'd get too exhausted, you'd just sink down to the floor. You never really slept, but you would close your eyes. You would stay like that until something jostled you from your unrest, or until your nightmares transported you to yet another room that you’d give anything to be let out of.
You wondered what happened to Bob. No matter how many rooms you went through or rounded back to, you never came across him. You wished you could find him. Wished you could find anyone, really. Every part of this process had been introducing you to new kinds of loneliness. This might've been the worst kind yet.
Staring at the bathroom door, you tried not to think about the sound of the bathtub faucet turning on and water starting to run. You tried not to pay attention to the scene that was, once more, beginning to unfold around you. Walking over, you closed the lid of the toilet and sat on top of it. Too tired to fight your way through another door that would bring you to another hopeless room, you pulled your legs up and hugged them to your chest. Pressing your forehead against your knees, you tried to tune out the sound of splashing as a different version of you, one who had no idea what was to come afterwards, stepped into the bathtub.
Bob didn’t remember much of what had happened after he lost you. He remembered sitting on the floor of the lab, but the next thing he knew he was waking up in a room with a bunch of people who were arguing and he didn’t know who any of them were or how they had all ended up in yet another sketchy looking basement.
The events that unfolded afterwards did nothing to help him make sense of any of it. For every half-answer, four more questions popped up. And everyone had so much to say all of the time. There were too many voices and it felt like none of them were listening to him. Except Yelena. Yelena listened, or at least tried to. She kind of reminded him of you in that way. There was so much going on, but in the back of his mind he always wondered if he was ever going to be able to get back to you. He had no idea if he was ever going to be able to fix whatever he did to you, but he sure hoped so.
He hadn't been ready for everyone to see him like that, for his worst moments and darkest parts of his psyche to be laid bare like that for everyone to see. There was no getting out of it now, though. They were all going through the house of mirrors with him whether he wanted them to or not.
When he was getting dragged through his lowlight reel, he had been expecting to come across you. Surely, that ranked somewhere up there in his worst moments. The one person who had offered him kindness and he had apparently sent you off to memories that you'd probably give anything to forget. He could only imagine what replay he had sent you too. If he thought about it for too long he'd start getting sick to his stomach over it.
There was a mix of dread and relief going through him when they ended up at the lab. It looked exactly like he remembered. Orderly and quiet. This memory started after all the screaming, which he was thankful for. The rest of the team didn’t need to be subjected to all of that.
But, if the memory started after the screaming, that meant that he'd see you soon, too. He'd been leading the charge as they went from one hell-room to the next, fallen heroes and villains following his footsteps to the letter. It would've felt strange if everything else happened wasn't so fucking bizarre.
He stopped when one of the exam room doors flew open. Everyone behind him stopped too. His breath was caught in his throat, unable to breathe, unable to move.
“Who is this?” Yelena asked, not taking her eyes off of the you that was running through Bob's memories.
He couldn’t make himself answer her. He also couldn’t make himself move to try and stop you from what you were about to do. If the memories playing out in the other rooms had taught him anything, it was that there was no interrupting, there was no stopping what had already happened. No undoing the past. Just reliving it.
It wasn't the same Bob that walked out of the exam room now. More than just his hands were black. The Void hardly paid you any mind, instead looking at and speaking to Bob. It was the only thing strong enough to divert his attention from you.
Maybe that meant it would play out differently this time. If Bob was too preoccupied with this other version of himself, maybe you'd be spared. Maybe this was how he saved you. He was fresh out of ideas, so he clung to the hope of that being the answer. He tried not to look at you as he approached the Void.
He shouldn't have flinched when the Void put his hand out in your direction. He knew better than that. He should've kept a straight face, pretended not to notice, but he couldn’t. The second that inky black palm went up in your direction, Bob knew that the scene wasn't going to play out any differently than it had before. If he hadn't been sure at the outset, the Void's cruel laugh confirmed it for him. When you disappeared before his eyes once again, all there was left to do was fight.
Bob never wanted to hurt anyone. Violence had never been his default, at least, not when he was truly himself. It surprised him, then, how good it felt to land one punch after the other. Making the Void's head bounce back into the tile floor was nothing short of gratifying. Maybe it felt that good because it was him. Was it really violence if he was inflicting it on himself?
It was the kind of sensation that he could easily lose himself in. He could feel the weight of the darkness creeping up to consume him whole. He was content to let it happen. There was no way of him existing without this darker part of himself, no way that he could see anyway. So if he was going to end up losing it all, he wanted to go down fighting. It was the last thing that he could do for himself. He deserved it, after everything. He definitely deserved it after what he'd done to you.
As if on cue, that thought had no sooner run through his head that he saw your exam room door open out of the corner of his eye. The loop had started over again. He wanted to see you one last time but he couldn't bear it. He didn’t deserve that kind of comfort anyway, so he settled for the blurry image of you in his peripheral. Through the tears, he focused on the task in front of him, one blow landing after another.
He knew that they were trying to pull him off. Over the blood rushing in his ears, he could vaguely hear Yelena's voice trying to reassure him. He shouldn't have fought against them. All she'd done was try to help in one way or another. But it felt so good, and to entertain the thought of a different kind of ending felt so useless.
You were getting closer. The Void was reaching out for you and no matter how hard Bob hit him, it wasn’t enough to stop him. And they were all pulling on him so hard to try and get him away, get him out of this. But then you'd still be stuck here. With him, this version of him that he never wanted you to know but you'd become acquainted with anyway. Then he was falling, tumbling back. He was reaching for you like it would actually do something. Futility was a heavy weight he was accustomed to carrying now. He begged for your hand to reach for his before it was too late. He didn’t know how to get back here again, back to you. He had no idea if there would ever be another way to get to you. All he could do was reach.
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THE WOES OF BOWTIES AND MISSING PUZZLE PIECES — ROBERT REYNOLDS
REQUEST: reemoony asked: loveeee your writing and I hope this request reach you. Can you make Bob and y/n are liking each other but they never say it but everyone is well aware of their feelings. One day Bob having a rough day and void jumps out, creating quite a chaos. She tries to talk him through it but void being void thinking she’s a liability for them, he “consumed” her. Few moments after that he turns back into Bob & other people came back from void but not her. Angsty angsty but with happy ending please. Sorry if this complicated, just change it into what you feel right and easier.
WARNING(S): SPOILERS?? me trauma dumping on page 24 for the plot (google doc verified) ANGST AND MORE ANGST, mentions of toxic relationship, someone dies, Bob needs a hug, and a kiss, and lots of reassurance, and probably therapy, happy ending I swear!! I don’t know what I was thinking when I wrote this one, folks. I hope I hit everything, this should've been two parts lmfao. I am not responsible for your therapy bills.
WORD COUNT: 18,593 (don't kill me I was on the roll)
PAIRING: Robert Reynolds (Sentry/The Void) x fem!reader
A/N: I hope you enjoy it! :) Feedback is always welcome! I was truly second-guessing posting this. I’m starting to feel like I don’t have the writing means to handle Bob with such care like some of y'all do.😭 but here we are. This took me a week y’all, ya girls tired <3
MASTERLIST
The evening had come around the corner faster than Bob could grasp. Alexei was making last-minute calls to use their time wisely so that they might show up to the event at a cordial time. He would have if he could get his hair to cooperate with him.
"Knock. Knock." Yelena announces, tapping on Bob's ajar door. He stands in front of the floor-length mirror in the corner of his room. His black tie attire contrasts with the baggy, loose-fitting hoodie and sweats he wears around the place. The fitted tux does nothing to hide his trained physique.
Yelena exclaims with earnestness. "Wow! Look at you!" She's whistling for effect. Impressed by how well he cleaned up. "Do I smell cologne on you, sir?" Her smile grows.
He stood straight, his eyes widening in the mirror as he turned to face her. His gaze softened, taking in her all dolled up and out of her usual tactical gear. The green was different from the black she wore. He thought then and there that she should wear more colorful outfits. He nods once, dipping his chin to nuzzle his nose into the collar. He inhales deeply.
"It's the one you gifted me for my birthday…Thought I’d give it a try…Thanks…You're not so bad yourself. You...You look beautiful." He smiles sheepishly as he spares her another once-over, bashful.
Yelena grins, thoroughly pleased to hear Bob’s compliment. In the best of ways, it was pleasant to have her efforts noticed.
“Why, thank you,” She responds with genuine gratitude. She spins in place, the skirt of her emerald green dress flowing flawlessly with the motion. She sits on the edge of the bed, flopping down, grabbing one of Bob’s pillows to hold onto. “You look good in a suit, bud. Almost ready?"
"Yeah...Yeah, just need to finish up with my hair. That's all. It’s not...responding well to the hairspray you lent me, though." He pulls at a strand. Bob’s hair was relatively problematic. No order, flow, or movement that made sense to the careful eye.
Bob turns back to the mirror. Messing up his hair, parting it to the left, before parting it to the right, trying to maintain its order, but he’s made no progress, thus far.
She smirks, amused by his struggle. "Ah, the woes of getting ready. I should have given you gel; it works miracles better than that stuff. Why don’t I take a look, huh? Maybe I can offer my expertise. We do share the same hairstyle, after all." She rises from the bed, approaches him, and notes the tousled locks that stick out at various angles.
“I don’t wanna take up more of your time…”
“Nonsense.” She motions for him to come here to begin her work. "So….trying to impress anyone?"
Bob glances down at her before focusing back on himself. He tilts his head, feeling the way the suit hugs him. The jacket stops at his waist, not swallowing him whole like his hoodies, which secure him like a blanket. Everything fits justly. He feels exposed. Yelena pauses her movements, watching the uncertainty take over his frown, as though he’s weighing something significant. The tension is all in his shoulders.
"No...not really…Just–trying to make myself look the part." His response was vague, not giving away the reason for his meticulous grooming.
Yelena quirks an eyebrow. She’s perceptive. Nothing gets past her, especially when it comes to her teammates. She hums as she moves behind him, scrutinizing his hair from a new angle. "Really? Just trying to look the part?" She questions, her tone filled with skepticism. She playfully runs her fingers through his hair, testing its resistant nature. "So, you're not trying to impress a special someone? Not even the pretty lady getting ready across the hall from us?"
Bob pauses momentarily, caught off guard by her direct assumption. He turns his head towards her, a slight flush appearing on his cheeks. He can't completely mask his surprise at her astute comment.
"N-No." He shakes his head a bit too quickly.
Yelena smirks, her keen insight confirmed. She can see right through Bob's attempts at nonchalance. His sudden denial made it even more apparent that he was trying to hide his infatuation. There was no hiding behind it though. They all knew.
She steps closer to him, her gaze never wavering. "So you got all dressed up and started messing with your hair for an hour, just for the sake of looking the part?" Yelena cocks her head slightly to one side.
"Yes." He nods his head stubbornly. "Just trying to look the part..." He swallows nervously before he fixes his attention back to his appearance.
Yelena lets out a faint laugh at his repeated insistence. Her eyes narrow playfully; she ruffles spots of hair here and there. She moves over to the other side of him before continuing her touch-ups. "Y'know, Bob..." She starts, her voice low and light. "You're not a very good liar." She places a hand gently on his shoulder, leaning in slightly. “I’ve thought you better than that, sir.”
"I'm sorry…" Bob releases a sigh.
Yelena continues to fiddle with his hair from the new angle. Her touch is gentle. "S’alright… You try to hide it, she tries to hide it. You both are not very good at this thing. But we all see the way you look at each other." She speaks with a soft but knowing tone. As if she's been patiently waiting for him to acknowledge his feelings. "You see her like she’s the quiet that fills the void inside you, all the noise goes out and she’s there, bringing you that peace, and she sees you like you’re the sunrise she’s always been eager to see after she’s been living in the dark her whole life."
Bob laughs, the sound nervous, mixed in with a scoff. He's in denial. "I…I don't know what you're talking about."
Yelena chuckles at this, her smirk growing. "Oh, come on, Bob." She moves around him again, standing before him, her eyes meeting his gaze pointedly. "You think we haven't noticed how your eyes light up whenever she enters a room? She stumbles over her words when you ask her a simple question. Your gross motor skills somehow fail you when you see the tiniest hint of her smile? And she spews weird little facts that no one can make sense of." She shakes her head slightly, amused. "You're in love, as is she, and we can all see it. Last week, you fumbled a book when she spoke to you in the kitchen."
"I slipped..." Bob looked down, shrugging his shoulders, feigning indifference to your past interactions.
"You were sitting down. The book was closed."
Bob begins to teeter back and forth to try to calm himself. "Are…Are you done?" He meets her gaze through the glass. His eyes flitted up to his now messily but organized hairdo. His eyes crinkle at the sight. "It looks the same."
Yelena chuckled, her eyes gleaming. His words felt like a cover, a desperate attempt to deflect from the truth. She playfully patted his shoulder before moving closer, standing directly behind him again. She perched her chin on his shoulder. "You shouldn't fuss so much, you look great. As for your unruly hair, I only messed with it a tiny bit." Yelena pinched her fingers. "Figured some part of yourself should remain true tonight..." Yelena reached up to tousle it for show. "Also, I have it on good authority that a certain birdy has told me she likes it when it resembles a bird's nest." He doesn't miss her wink through the glass.
He still can't help but release his doubts to the widow. The way his self-esteem remains low. “I don’t feel great, Yelena. This…This isn’t me. This suit, my hair, and the nice shoes. It feels like I’m putting on a mask.”
"Bob, listen to me," She says, squeezing his shoulder. "I know it might feel weird. It is a bit weird. You're wearing a fancy suit with your hair slightly combed and shoes that aren't sneakers." She lets out a faint laugh. "But you're not hiding yourself away. Putting yourself into a box approved by Valentina." Yelena gently turns him around to face her. "You're just allowing yourself to be seen in a different light.” She squeezes his shoulder again, reassuringly. "You deserve to feel great about yourself."
"I feel good in sweatpants."
Yelena laughs heartedly this time; she loves how adamant he can be. "We all do." She gives him a light, playful nudge. "But that's not going to fly tonight. You're going to wear the suit, you're going to go out with your friends, have a great time, all while looking good." She grins, her tone light.
"I don't feel good though..."
Yelena senses his unease. She meets his gaze again, her expression serious yet compassionate. "You are incredibly good looking, Bob. You're just not used to feeling that way, seeing yourself in that way. We've all had these moments. Hell, I've had my share," She admitted, her smile briefly fading. She quickly catches herself and tries to uplift the mood again. "It's just one party. How bad can it be?" She nudges him again, this time laying a playful punch to his chest. "Just this once, humor me. Let yourself experience something out of your normal routine." She reaches up to fix a strand playing stubborn. "Also, the little birdie has told me she loves the sight of a man in a crisp suit, too." She nudges him twice with her elbow.
"Okay." He laughs at her incredulous antics and light teasing. A beat passes before his brow furrows. "We have a bird?"
Yelena bursts into laughter at his question. "Oh my god- No." She grabs him on the arm to ground herself. Her voice filled with mirth. “Bob, no. We...We don't have a bird." She shakes her hands and head. "It's just a figure of speech. It means I have inside information. It's- Oh Bob." Yelena's shoulders slump in defeat. Bob offers a timid grin before he laughs lightly with her, finally understanding what she meant.
"Oh right...Y/n’s the bird. I-I get it now." Bob rocks back and forth with a solid nod.
Yelena playfully rolls her eyes but can't help but smile at Bob's delayed reaction. "Yes, she's the bird.”
Bob glances back at his reflection, still weighing his options. "Is it too late to change into my robe?"
Yelena chuckles at his attempt to escape the situation. “Well, you certainly can’t show up to a gala in pajamas. Sorry, buddy. No PJs tonight. You're stuck in the suit until the party's over." She grins at him, her tone playful but filled with determination. "And I'm also eighty-eight percent sure Valentina will kill you if you set foot into the venue looking like you just rolled out of bed, so the tux stays on."
“It wouldn’t be the first time…” He avoids her gaze, his cheeks still dusted with a slight tint, a mixture of embarrassment and reluctance. A bit of his inner turmoil was still cracking through the surface. "I… I should stay home tonight."
Yelena's eyes soften once more as he suggests excluding himself from the event tonight. "No, no. You're going, Bob. Don't even think about backing out now." She steps closer to him, her gaze steady and firm. "You look great! Listen to me; we want you to get out of your robes and that blue sweater you always wear. Take you out for once since you're always here at the tower. Bob, surely you wouldn't want to miss the chance to see how stunning Y/n looks in her evening gown, would you? Gorgeous." She emphasizes.
Bob falls quiet for a moment, contemplating her words. His mind drifts, picturing how you might look all dressed up. Your hair done all nice, maybe some jewelry, nothing too flashy, since you preferred decorating your fingers and ears with simplistic pieces. He can't help but wonder what color might adorn your perfect smile. Red, maybe orange, perhaps that color you told him was called mauve, with your lips lined.
I...I bet you look pretty. He thinks.
Yelena grins, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. She can see the thought of you in his mind, the vivid image of you dressed to the nines igniting a spark in his expression. She catches his brief moment of daydreaming before he catches himself, his gaze snapping away from the pillow to meet hers.
"Bob..." Yelena's voice edges amused.
"I just..." Bob starts, then lets out a frustrated exhale. "I'm not really... I'm not the party type, you know. I always stayed indoors growing up. I never went out much. I never had this. Friends who wanted to be around me. This gala is far from my normal routine. I don’t think letting me go out so soon would be a good idea. It’s been a year. You guys said it yourself, you don't want to risk Void getting out again. You...You guys would be better off going without me. I can stay behind…I don’t mind."
She understands that he harbors doubts and fears about his place among them.
"Bob..." Yelena tilts her head, staring at him pointedly, her voice gentle yet firm. "We aren't keeping you locked up to contain 'Void'. It's not about that. Not anymore." She reaches up to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You're not a ticking time bomb, you never have been. We want you there with us. Even Y/n, alright? If it puts your mind at ease, even for just one second. She was the one who suggested we bring you along with us. Not because we feel it’s our obligation, and no one can watch you. But because we genuinely want to see you out of this place, cleaned up! We don't want to see you holed up in this tower forever, okay?"
Bob's heart skips at the mention of you wanting him there, too. He fidgets momentarily, avoiding eye contact by looking down at his shoes. The polished shine on them reminded him that he could have these things now. The privilege of owning nice things.
Nice things never last long. In his life at least.
“Okay…” His mind whirls with the never-ending feeling of being a bother and a burden. He's hesitant, torn between his desire to attend and his habitual tendency to keep to himself. He bites his lip, the urge to decline the invitation was tempting against the subtle want of not wanting to be stuck at the tower…alone. "I just..." His hands lingers over his naked collar.
Her voice is gentle with a hint of encouragement. “You what, Bob?” She waits for him to verbalize his concerns; she’s patient.
"No...It's stupid." He brushes it off with a laugh.
"No, say it!" She encourages.
"No. I should stay home-"
"Bob, tell me." Yelena dipped her head to meet his eyes. He gives in after a moment.
"...I don't know how to put a tie on." He laments, lamely gesturing to the fabric he had tossed on his bed moments earlier, having given up on trying to do it himself. His father was absent from teaching him how to put one one. He never did get to bond over a silly thing, such as a tie with him. The rite of passage, or whatever they call it. The transition into becoming a man, knowing how to tie one yourself.
Yelena chuckles softly at his confession, her amusement tinged with empathy. Her eyes flicker towards the abandoned tie on the bed.
"Oh, Bob..." She gently pats his shoulder this time. "Don't worry; we can sort it out, alright." She takes his hand and guides him to sit on the edge of the bed. She picks up the tie, draping it around his neck. "You know... You could have just asked me." She says gently, wrapping the tie around his neck.
"You already helped with my hair." He shakes his head.
Yelena playfully rolls her eyes at his stubbornness, carefully ensuring one end is slightly longer. This difference would account for the tie’s eventual knot later. Yelena crossed the longer end over the shorter one, then pulled it under the shorter end and through the loop around Bob's neck. She continued folding the shorter end at the widest part to create a bow shape.
"Yes, but that's no excuse. You could have asked. Nothing wrong with asking for more help." With the bow shape firmly in place, she brought the longer end directly over it. Pinching the bow shape and the longer end together, carefully threading the longer end through a loop she had opened in the back of the bow. She then pulled both ends to tighten them in place.
"See? Sorted out." She pats his chest, stepping back to look over her handiwork and adjusting the fabric until she is satisfied with how it sits at his neck.
"Thanks...I was never taught how." Bob trails off, not wanting to bring forth thoughts of his father. They were never pleasant.
She notices the hint of melancholy in his voice upon mentioning not being able to put on a tie, but she chooses to move past it, not wanting to dampen the moment. Instead, she pats his chest once more, grinning. "Don't worry, Alexei doesn’t either." She winks at him once more.
He nods out of curiosity before he even registers what he's asking. "Does…Does Y/n know how to tie a tie?"
Yelena raises her eyebrow at his question. She tries to hide a smirk, realizing where his mind is currently at. "Hmm...You know, I'm not entirely sure. But..." She pauses, enjoying the moment. "If I had to guess, I'd bet she would. She's got an endless amount of skills hidden beneath the surface. Surely tying ties is a secret she has, wouldn’t hurt to ask her about it."
"I-I wouldn't put it past her…She's great at everything." His admiration was not lost on her.
"That she is..." Yelena smirks. “You should tell her you know. That you’re in love with her.” She nudges his foot with her heel.
He wrings his hands together, leaning onto his elbows placed on his knees. As tempting as it sounds, he wouldn't be able to gain the confidence to execute it. Confessing to you how he felt. The feelings he harbored. "No…It’s better this way. If I keep it to myself."
Yelena's expression softens at his reluctance. She sits next to him, considering his words. "Bob, listen to me. Life…it’s too short to keep something like that to yourself. I've seen you around her, the way your worries fade. That sense of security that she brings you. That you bring to her. It’s all in the risk worth taking." Yelena continues, choosing her words with care. "Don't let fear keep you from telling her how you feel. You'll never know what might happen if you don’t take that chance."
He meets her gaze. His locks falling over his eyes, hiding him. "What if I mess it all up?”
“I don’t think you could.”
“And if I do…I don’t want to hurt Y/n.”
“Relationships get messy, Bob, it’s part of growing together. Do you think we’d be here today, as the new avengers if we continued to butt heads every time?”
“No…”
“You have nothing to lose.” Yelena encourages. “Trust me. Just be yourself. Tell her how you feel, and before it’s too late, alright.”
“I'll think about it…" Bob stands up as Alexei's voice rings out from the hall, indicating it was time to head out. With a sigh, Bob steps out of the door frame, ready to face whatever the evening has in store.
-
Bob had a completely different idea about how the night would go. Surely, there would have been busybodies intrigued by his presence and would approach him. Possibly ask him about his powers, his involvement, and what he brought to the table, but that was not the case as he continued to stand in the corner of the venue. Alone. His hands were messing with his cuff links to help pass the time. He raised his hand occasionally, sparing a timid greeting to the passersby who gave him a side eye. He wasn’t aware how much of a wallflower he was being, but he was nonetheless immune to the judgeful stares. He might've guessed that his longing gaze also made people whisper and gesture towards him. The fact that he was staring in one particular direction caught everyone’s curiosity.
He was looking at you, mingling and laughing with people he didn’t know. He couldn’t stop staring at you since you met the group in the living room. Yelena wasn’t lying when she said you looked gorgeous.
It felt like time itself stopped and nothing else moved, nor mattered, except you. Walker didn’t fight the shit eating grin on his face when he heard Bob’s sharp intake. The kid was so far gone that he had to nudge the man after you had complimented his appearance.
“And here I thought you were reluctant to go out with us. You look good.” Your sweet grin was making him visibly malfunction. You gave a nervous laugh, looking down as the minutes passed without him saying anything. Heat warms your cheeks. “Did I say something wrong?” Your eyes crinkle with embarrassment.
“No, he–“
“–Oh!” Bob stumbles to the right from Walker’s nudge. “T-Thank you! You don’t look nice- No you do! You look nice…I meant to say you look nice. You’re beautiful…You look beautiful!” Bob grows flustered. “T-Thank you.”
“Geezus.” Walker scoffed, walking away from you both.
“You know you can take your eyes off her for a second, right? She’ll still be there, I promise.” Bucky comes up to him from his peripheral vision. Bob’s face flushed with embarrassment, having been caught. He dips his chin before he locks eyes with the soldier. “Here.” He offers a rounded glass—a golden liquid swirling in its confinement.
“Thanks…” He carefully encircles his hand around the glass and takes a sip. A loud cough erupts from his chest, making him lean over. Bucky chuckles briefly before helping him back upright and patting his chest.
“Scotch on the rocks. Thought you could use some liquid courage. Get some hair on your chest.” Bucky pulls away. Bob watches as the man’s eyes avert, inspecting the room. He blended in well, unlike himself. No one looks twice at Bucky. No one suspects him of anything bad.
“F-For what?” Bob cleared his throat, trying to get over the burn.
“You’re gonna ask her to dance.” Bucky declares.
“I’m…I’m what?” Bob whips his head to peer at him. Then, back to you, you hit a man with your hand across his chest, throwing your head back. How could he ask you to dance when you looked to have been having a swell time across the room?
“Gentlemen…What are we talking about over here?” Walker chimes over. A hand in his pocket, a rounded glass tucked into his palm, faced down.
“I told Bob here to go ask Y/n to dance.”
“No wait- I wasn’t-“ He protests.
“Ha– That I want to see. Do you even know how to dance? Can you dance?”
“Well, no… I can do the Charlie Brown in the cha-cha slide though…”
“You don’t say…” Walker closes his mouth. He shakes his head at Bob’s enthusiastic confirmation. “Maybe teach the kid a step…or two.” Walker lifts his drink to his lips. Bucky pats Bob comfortably against his back, his chin face down, embarrassed that he admitted his lack of dance skills. “Before he asks her.”
“I should’ve stayed home…” Bob muttered to himself.
“No you shouldn’t have. You just need a wingman.”
“A wingman?” Bob’s brows crease.
“Yeah, someone who can help you get the girl. That gives you advice on how to look good in front of her.” Bucky's words cause Bob to look down at himself.
“What more could I do to look okay? Y-Yelena already helped me do my hair and tie.”
“This will have nothing to do with your appearance. You already got the face and the build, kid, don’t worry about that. I just meant more of teaching you how to hold yourself confidently and how you speak to a woman.”
“But Yelena told me to just be my-“
“Forget everything Yelena has told you. Let us help you, alright.” Walker butts in. Bob wrings his hands, he wasn’t too sure about the whole ordeal. Yelena told him to take the chance, to tell you how he felt before it was too late, to be himself, because that’s who you were drawn to. Now the guys were telling him he had to work on himself, on their way to giving him tips on how to bring out his confidence, it didn’t make sense.
“I don’t know…I wanted to do it on my own terms. N-Not right now…She’s busy.”
“She’s networking.”
“I don’t want to pull her away to tell her how I feel…” The idea felt selfish. He didn’t want to be the one to tamper your fun night.
“Trust me, kid. You’d be doing her a favor. She’s miserable.” Bob turns, inspecting your joyous body language. If your discontent looked like you were happy, then so was he.
“Maybe we should wait-“
“Oh.” Walker draws their attention. Bob turns to him before looking back at you. “Trouble in paradise.” Walker quips, gesturing to the new fellow that caught their attention. Your smile disappears when you turn around to face the hand that tapped your shoulder.
“Who’s that?” Bob glances back at the troubled expression of his teammates. He rocks back and forth on his heels. Nervously waiting to know of the man, who brought you displeasure from what he could tell. He watches you shake your head no, turning and walking away from him and the group you mingled with. An unsettling torment rumbles in his chest, when the guy grabs your upper forearm, halting your retreat.
You quickly turn your head around; a quiet disagreement begins. A few other guests glance over at you both.
"Sadly that is Y/n's former partner. His name is Ryker Stride.” Bucky reveals the information about your ex-boyfriend that you failed to talk about. To him at least.
"I had no idea she was with someone…" Despite the fact that he didn't look like your ex, Bob couldn't help but let his wandering thoughts get the better of him. He felt insignificant compared to how Ryker held himself.
“They weren’t together for long, they hit month six before she ended things with him.”
“Is it ‘cause he’s an asshole?” He didn’t like the way he grabbed you. You pulled your hand back, before you walked away, Turning a corner out of sight.
“Unfortunately.” Bucky sighed. Walker watched the scene unfold, before an idea struck him.
“Go save her.” Walker urges, noticing Ryker following after you.
“What?”
“I didn’t stutter. Go!” Walker nudged him a few steps forward, but Bob only shakes his head.
“I-I don’t think it's a good idea…Walker, Yelena told me to not get into trouble before she left me here. I-“
“Oh my god! It’s not like you’re gonna kill the dude, you're just gonna follow them, make sure she’s okay. And if he so much lays a hand on her, then you slightly intervene, use a bit of that strength of yours to show him you don’t mess around when it comes to her. It’s completely harmless dominance. Show how much of a gentleman you are. Trust me, she’ll be kissing you by midnight, you’ll thank me later. Promise.“ Walker steps up to him, pats him on the chest.
“I don’t know…I think we should get Yelena. Get her opinion on this.” He reels into himself, not believing he could carry it all out. He was a gentleman, he thought so, so did Yelena and you, why would possibly getting a man’s hands off you further highlight the fact he’d never do such a thing as lay a hand on a woman. It felt risky…but was this the risk Yelena encouraged him to take things with you further?
“I think it could work.” Now Bucky, mauled it over.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone. It’s risky…” Bob kept insisting.
“No. It’s not. You should go save her.” Walker persisted. “This is your chance and you’re seriously not gonna take it?” He scoffs. “If you’re not gonna do it, then I will. The guy’s a prick anyway.”
Bob couldn’t believe what he was hearing. First, the guys suggested he should ask you to dance, and now they want him to barge in like some knight in shining armor? Did they seriously expect him to just waltz over to you, interrupt your conversation with your ex, and play the hero? But what really caught him off guard was the fact that he actually considered it. Sure, he didn't think much of your ex when he saw his hand on you, but to intervene?
Walker and Bucky continue to implore him, emphasizing the importance of this moment. Telling him to man up. He knew this was the opportunity to act, but as usual, his nerves get a hold of him. With a hesitant look at the super soldiers, he nods once and moves with small steps in the direction he saw you go.
-
Bob felt nervous when he came to a stop around the corner. Your anger evident with every grit of your teeth. It was daunting to see you so worked up. His brows furrow as he saw Ryker hold you in the exact same position.
You wished you hadn’t walked away from the crowd. Crowds kept you safe, they granted you witnesses if something were to happen to you. Much like so.
"Let go." You grit your teeth at the man preventing your exit.
"Let's talk about this-"
"There's nothing to talk about. I gave you your answer. I ended things with you for this exact reason. Your aggressive, abusive, and right now a real pain in my ass. If you can't be a grown-up about it, that's a personal issue. Not mine. Let go." Your voice lowers, firm in your conviction.
“No come on, give me a chance to explain myself. I told you I was going to work on myself-”
"Ryker if you don't take your goddamn hand off me so help me-"
Bob was torn from the sidelines. He understood it wasn’t his place to interfere, but his heart began to beat faster as the conversation between you and your ex grew more heated. He clenched and unclenched his hands, taking a few steps towards the altercation. He had to say something, but he also didn’t have a clue how to approach.
"She...She said let her go." A dark, low rumble emits behind you. The rasp in Bob's voice usually sent a tingling sensation down your spine, but upon seeing how intensely he glared at your ex, and the way his shoulders curled in around himself. It did nothing but give you goosebumps. Bob's gaze settled on his hand, the one currently leaving impressions of his fingers on your skin. Your gaze stays on him as you catch a flicker of amber in his eyes. No.
"She said, let go." Bob’s gestures with a pointed finger. A nervous laugh emits past his lips. It does nothing to ease the tension.
Ryker's hold on you tightens at Bob's words. The defiance in the man's demeanor only fueled his determination to maintain his grip. "Mind your business, freak. This doesn't concern you."
Your heart hammers as Bob’s eyes go full gold. “She said let go…”
You turn back to the stubborn fool with cogs and nuts for brains. "Ryker, let go of me now." You push against his hand, which doesn't let up at all. "Terco! Suéltame!" You curse at him. "You have a death wish. Surely, that’s the case!" You feign sudden revelation to his unrelenting grip. You shove against his chest, before looking back at Bob, exclaiming frantically. "Bob, I'm fine. Go find Yelena!"
"He's bruising you..." His gaze was unmoving from Ryker's grip. “He shouldn’t be hurting you.”
Bob steps to move closer, but your desperate attempt to keep him away from the impending situation stops him in place. His gaze flicks rapidly between Ryker’s tight hand on you and the sight of your growing distress.
"Bob, it's fine!" You curse under your breath, as you try to hide the pain you begin feeling, etching your features. "Ryker!" A disheartened chuckle slips past your lips, but it's not joyous. Bob didn't misplace your whine. "You're drunk, go home. You're making things worse-"
Ryker's grip on you persisted, his drunken state only fueling his stubbornness even more so. He ignored your attempt to diffuse the situation; a scoff left him. "The only one making things worse is this pri—" His words were slurred and then interrupted. Bob stuck a hand out before Ryker's grip lifted off of you, and then he flew towards Bob.
Bob didn't hesitate to grip the intoxicated man's neck.
"You were saying?" Bob's raspy growl was not missed.
Ryker croaks, his airway being cut off by Bob's hand around his throat. He tries to form words, but only a strangled gasp leaves him.
"Bob..." You step closer to them. His cerulean eyes meet yours, and a speck of hope fills you, thinking he's not far from being helped. "Bob, can we talk about this?"
His grip doesn't loosen on the guy. Bob's eyes are locked onto yours for a split second before returning to Ryker, the grip on his neck more harsh than what is necessary. His demeanor had changed; his usually soft-spoken words and timidness were gone. He stands straight, shoulders squared. A subtle but commanding aura emanated from him. He was losing an eternal fight that the eye couldn't see, but you saw the signs. His lack of empathy, dissolving, a rugged exterior slamming down like a shutdown protocol. You didn't like the man who wanted to take over.
"Bob?" Your heels click softly with each approaching step. "Listen I know Ryker's a piece of shit okay. It's why I broke up with him..." You put your hands out to show him you mean no harm. "I thought I wanted him gone at one point in my life too, but contemplating about the asshole in such a way didn't feel worth it anymore." Ryker pays you a glare. "Bob, he doesn't deserve one second of your time." Bob clenches his jaw as he peers down at your darkened marks. He twitches as he tries to think through his inner turmoil.
"No, no. He shouldn't have hurt you. He put his hands on you." Bob's voice cracks. "I don't like it when people hurt you..."
"Yeah, well, people do stupid things when they're drunk. He's an idiot." You give Bob a pained smile. "I'm fine. Nothing serious." He still had Ryker in his grip. The man was turning red.
"He-He deserves it." With one final tightening of his grip, Ryker falls limp. You barely register the crack, surely his neck. The sound haunts you as the hairs on your arms rise again.
You watch as Bob releases Ryker. The man flops to the ground, unmoving. Your heart picks up as you realize what he's done. Your eyes go wide before you swallow the lump in your throat. "Bob, you...Did you-"
Bob's gaze was locked on Ryker's unconscious form, and he finally turned to look at you, noticing you had backed up. A flicker of realisation passes across his expression at your reaction and withdrawal. Bob's gaze remains steady, his eyes devoid of the softness you're used to, replaced by something else. Hatred.
"He had it coming." Bob's tone is firm, his voice still hinting at his usual timidness, but tinged with a hardened edge. "He hurt you. What gives him the right to do that to you? To anyone? I did him a favor." He nods more to himself.
"You didn't need to kill him."
Bob's gaze intensifies as he keeps your gaze, the look unyielding. The gold in his eyes is more prominent now. The tension was dense, the moment hanging in the air, thick like fog. "He deserved it." Bob's tone, confident and cold. No remorse. "He hurt you."
"Oh my god…No it wasn’t necessary.." You release a sigh.. "H-He just held my wrist."
Bob's eyes narrow. He scoffs in disbelief. "And you were wincing, were you not?" He steps closer to you, closing the distance. You never liked his gold eyes. Not when he was looming over you.
You hold your head high, trying not to let your gaze waver from his intimidation. "I'm fine. Killing shouldn't have been your first choice. It never should result in death unless the situation requires it. I could have knocked him out, Bob..."
"Maybe you're too kind." The intensity in his gaze was unbroken. "Sometimes, people like him don't understand anything but violence."
"I don't think you do either..." You wished you could have taken it back the second the words fell past your lips. "I didn't mean that-" You close your eyes. Regret hitting you.
Bob recoils at your words, flinching as though you hit him. "I think you did." His gaze sharpens, hurt and confusion flashing across his features.
"No." You insist.
The intensity in his gaze doesn't let up, even as you try to retract your statement. "No. You did mean it." His tone is stern. Grim. It cuts through the air like a knife. "You think I'm as violent as him, is that it?"
You only keep shaking your head, even as he corners you against an adjacent wall. "No. I think-"
The weight of his body is imposing, shadows slowly casting over him starting from his shoes as he corrals you into the wall. His hands find the space beside your head, trapping you in as he leans in close, his voice low and sharp. “Why shouldn't I use my full potential, especially when a damsel is distressed? I'm strong, so why wouldn't I try to help someone in need? Though I'm starting to think this damsel wasn't worth the time or energy anymore. Since she's yet to thank me. I came here to save you from that asshole.”
Your lip trembles as you reach for your gun. You act fast on impulse. Switching the safety off your weapon with precision and speed before a shot rings out. Surely someone's heard it go off.
Bob's reaction was instantaneous as pure adrenaline surged through his veins. He acted on instinct, seizing your wrist in a firm grip. He holds your gun-wielding hand steady. The weapon was aimed at a spot just past his right ear. His voice is eerily calm. “You missed.”
Your outcry was real this time as the gun slipped out of your hand. Out of reach now. Bob held your wrist, much like Ryker had. Only this grip was severely cruel, whereas Ryker's was bruising you, Bob could easily break your wrist with slightly more pressure applied. "Y-You're hurting me-" You shove against his chest. He was unfazed by your attempts.
"And you were going to shoot me....God, why do we even keep you around?" Your eyes widen as the shadows reach up to his torso.
"'Cause I'm one of you..." You arguably strain.
He doesn't allow himself to give in to your words; he doesn't soften or falter. You press the left side of your face into the wall as he sneers and breaths heavily into your cheek. "You sure about that?" His tone was condescending. He pulls you into his chest, dragging you away before you know it.
-
A yell breaks out when you're thrown across the venue’s dance floor. Your body hits the ground roughly, sending you rolling before you stop face down into the ground. You lay there trying to gather your bearings.
He threw me! Your thoughts alert you.
"T-That hurt..." You mutter to yourself as you take note of the crowd, stepping back and away from the center. Separating a path as Bob, halfway transformed into Void, approaches with steady, slow footsteps.
"Y/n!" Yelena makes for you, but you shake your head.
"No, no, don't." You held your hand out, halting Walker and Yelena from approaching you. Your face fell when you noticed them reach for specific spots on their attire. Weapons. Hidden from wandering gazes. Had they anticipated this to happen? "Stay back!" You warn, pushing off the ground with shaken legs. Your chest rises and falls heavily, trying to push through the pain of being thrown like a rag doll.
"B-Bob stop!" You cry out, a rasp to your voice.
Bob's eyes remained fixed. Golden. The shadow within him, consuming his being. His expression was almost feral. He stops in front of you. He had no hesitation and no mercy. No, not for you. No more.
Bob watches you stumble forward with an unsettling lack of regard. Even though he had been rougher with you than he'd like, his demeanor didn't soften. He begins stepping towards you. "You're a drawback." His tone is harsh, lacking the usual warmth he holds towards you.
Your head falls into your shoulder, defeated and solemn, as Bob's demeanor doesn’t change. Black overshadows his delicate features. He is no longer the timid and awkward man you thought you knew. Now, he is Void—a twisted, broken force to be reckoned with. The two white dots for eyes stare back at you hauntingly.
No trace of warmth or familiarity in his eyes. Just a tormenting, head tilt directed at your vulnerable state. "A liability." His head tilts to the other side now.
Yelena steps closer to you. A hand was held out in front of her, ready to shove you behind her. She was all too familiar with the Void's dislike for you. He hadn't been too kind to you in your shame rooms. Giving you hell the most when the group rejoined in the attic. He hated you, hated how you made things quiet for Bob. You provided a sense of comfort and a safeguard for him to fall back on. Void wanted you gone. Now more so than ever.
"Bob?" Yelena gives it a go before she reaches for you.
Instantly, you're yanked by your wrist, slamming into his chest, forcing you to meet his menacing stare. You watch his wickened grin grace you, the white dots for his eyes reflecting the sliver of hope within him. Barely there.
"No!"
"Let her go!"
"Bob, let her go!"
"Bob, if you can hear me. Stop this!"
Multiple safety clicks are echoed all around the room. You turn briefly, locking eyes with Ava, Yelena, and Walker, directing their pistols' ends towards the shadow man. Bucky is on standby with his weapon of choice. You lock eyes with him, shaking your head. Their hesitance to shoot is noticeably painful.
"You can't be trusted." Void continues speaking slowly, calculatingly, each word falling heavy and deliberate, as the shadows consume you from your heels. "You act impulsively based on your emotions. You're a waste of time. You're only making him weaker."
The shadows wrap around your ankles, coiling around them, consuming them in darkness. You feel the shadows creep up your legs, snaking their way up your body, now to the halfway point of your waist. It didn't take a genius to know what was happening. "Then get it over with already..."
He chuckles darkly before you see your friends and various guests begin being turned into shadows. Void's gaze flickers around the room. People start to scream and flee, while others begin to try to fight back. He remains unfazed by the panic as he lifts you to his eye level, the shadows reaching your chest now. "You don't matter...you never will." You release a gasp, your eyes closing as the shadows curl over your head like a hoodie. Then your body's gone from his grasp. No shadow in sight.
-
Bob sat up, startled. His eyes snapped open, his breathing heavy and ragged as he shook his head and ran frantic fingers through his now messy curls. His heart raced in his chest. "What..." He muttered, trying to shake the remnants of the horrid nightmare from his mind.
"Bob?" He whips his head up fast, causing him a sudden dizzy spell, before he locks eyes with Yelena on the ground. He begins to register not only her disheveled state but also various other bodies, sitting up from the ground as well.
"What the hell..." Ava curses as she goes to stand. Yelena followed suit, as shadows started to disperse from each figure that had stood in the room a while ago.
"What happened here?" Bob, nervous, stood up, trying to find his bearings.
"Great, you don't remember."
Bob's confusion grows as he takes in the sight of everyone around him. He rubs his temples, trying to make sense of what's happening. "I...I don't know..." He shakes his head, feeling dazed and disoriented. "I was... dreaming, I think. It was a nightmare. But, I can't remember much."
"It's fine, Bob." Yelena waves him off.
Bob rubs his hands over his face, trying to shake off the remnants of his nightmare. The group is gathered in the venue, their surroundings in disarray. Chairs toppled, tables were knocked over, and the floor was littered with shattered glass. "What happened here?" He asks again, taking in the state of the room.
"Void." Bucky sighed.
Bob's heart sinks at the mention of Void. He knew all too well the damage and chaos the other guy brought with him. "Void did this?"
"Yeah..." Walker nods. "But from the looks of it, you only maintained it here, so I call progress." Bob was lost.
"I did? I don't remember anything. I only remember seeing Y/n talking to that Ryker guy, before everything got fuzzy again."
The mention of your name had them freezing. Yelena looked to him before her body swirled around in search of you. Yelena's eyes widen with realization.
"Y/n... Where's Y/n?" The room falls silent as they begin to realize the absence of your presence in the venue.
"What's with the long faces?" Bob wrings his hands together, not understanding the concerned glances everyone threw his way. He turns his head like they do, eyes darting around, falling onto multiple strange faces, searching but never really finding what they looked for. "What's wrong?... Where's Y/n?" His body tenses, dread seeping in.
"What do you mean, where is she?" Yelena's heart plunges. "Bob?" She inched closer, trying to get a read on him. "D-Do you remember anything?"
"No, I told you all that I know. I saw Ryker with Y/n before everything got dark." Bob glanced over to Walker and Ava's hardened gazes. He curled in on himself. He didn't need to be a genius to know something was wrong and that he was at fault. "W-What do you mean? Where is she?"
"Alright, kid, quit messing around. Where'd she go? We all came back, so why didn't she?" Walker rolled his eyes, not in the mood for his oblivious antics. "Where is she, Bob?"
"I-I don't know where Y/n is? What did I do?" Bob frantically shrugs his shoulders.
"No." Dread fell over Yelena's face. "No, no, no." Yelena cupped her stomach.
Bob noticed Yelena's expression, confusion etched on his face, "W-What's going on? What did I do?"
The group looked at him in pity, their faces riddled with worry, fear, and confusion—all except Bucky, who remained silent and stoic. Everyone waited for Yelena to speak. Yelena's voice was shaky, her words softly spoken.
"You didn't do anything." Yelena's eyes started to water, her body trembling. "No..." She looked around the room once more. Nothing. "Okay...Okay. How do we get her back?" She highlighted.
"Get her back?" Bob shook his head.
"You're asking us?" Bucky pointed to himself. "How would we know?" He perplexes.
"I...I don't know!" Yelena's breathing grew ragged, on the verge of tears. She blew raspberries. "She can't be gone...we all came back, there's that!"
"Yeah, but she didn't." Walker voiced everyone's dread. His tone grew sharp and impatient. He pointed to Bob, "Why is that Bob? Why didn't she return like the rest of us?"
"Surely there's some reasonable explanation for this-" Ava tried leveling the situation.
Bob's expression turned somber, his eyes darting to each person searching for an answer. He stuttered, "I...I don't know why. I swear, I don't know. I...I'd never ever hurt her, I promise. I'd never hurt her."
Yelena's voice was shaky, her words barely above a whisper. "We know you wouldn't, but she's gone. Maybe still in the Void, and we need to get her back."
"The question is how, though?" Walker queried.
Yelena shrugged, her eyes reddened and puffy. "I got nothing...." Everyone remained quiet.
Bob wrung his hands together before a suggestion conjured up in his mind. "W-What if you knock me out?"
The group froze, all turning to look at him in disbelief.
"What?" Yelena furrowed her brows, confused by his reasoning.
Ava chimes in, disagreeing. "That doesn't even sound plausible."
Walker let out a scoff. "Knock you out? Are you out of your mind? What good would that do for us?"
"We risk the Void escaping again!" Alexei voiced his concern. "It is a no from me!"
"Sorry, it was just an idea. I thought it could work- Sorry." Bob shakes his head, letting his head fall to the ground again. Bucky, the more level-headed of the group, weighs the idea before speaking.
"Bob..." Bucky steps forward, his gaze fixed on the distressed male. "What do you mean by that? Why do you suggest that we knock you out?"
A spark of hope ignites behind his eyes. Someone's taking a chance on his idea. Bob nods before saying, "Maybe if you guys knock me out. I could find her...in here." He peers up through his lashes at the soldier, gesturing to his temple. "It was just an idea..."
Bucky's gaze remains locked on Bob, contemplating his proposal. Yelena moves from her spot, placing her hand on Bucky's arm. "Bucky, you can't be serious."
"You got a better plan… We don't have anything to go from. It's better than nothing. It could work..." Bucky shrugs at Bob, who straightens. Bob stares at Bucky, surprised that he was on board with it. He turned to the others, waiting for their opinions.
"But how can you know for certain... that it will work?" Yelena counters.
"It's a stupid idea," Ava mutters, shaking her head.
"Alright, how hard do I have to hit him?" Walker begins removing his blazer, rolling his white dress shirt up to his elbows.
"Woah woah woah! Let's think this through, there are other ways we can do this!" Yelena cuts in frantically.
"She's right, punching him won't phase him."
"Then how the hell are we supposed to knock him out?" Walker complained.
"You could..." Bob swallowed back a lump. "You could choke me..."
Ava whips her head over to Walker's baffled gaze. She nudges him with a shit eating grin. "Choke him!" She urges.
Bucky places his hands on his hips, and a heavy sigh leaves him. "You sure about this, Bob?"
A mixture of nervousness and determination washes over Bob's face. Bob nods, trying to seem brave. "Yeah...I'm sure. I have to try…For her. I wouldn't be able to live with myself, you know?" He lets out a faint laugh, but his smile only lasts a few seconds.
A grimace is on Yelena's face as she watches the scene begin to unfold. Bucky places a firm hand on Bob's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Don’t kill him, Walker. Do it quickly, just enough to make him unconscious. Got it?”
Walker shakes his head. "I can't believe I'm doing this." He approaches Bob, hesitant about his decision. He grabs Bob’s forearm before making him turn around. His back now faces him. "Sorry in advance, kid..." Walker swallows hard before he wraps his arms around Bob’s shoulders. It's not long before his arms tighten around his neck. Bob protests, raising his hands to where Walker's hold reduces his oxygen. He knew he had to give in, for your sake, but he'd be lying if he said the whole plan was terrifying.
Bob tries to resist even as he meets Yelena's pained expression. Bucky's head turns away so as not to look, but he thinks twice before looking back, to be there as his source of comfort as he starts tapping against Walker’s arms.
"You'll be fine, kid. Just relax, alright? Don’t fight it." Bucky tries to reassure him. Bob feels the pressure build up in his head and lets out a gasp before he nods. His eyes flicker back and forth between gold and blue. His throat feels like it's being crushed, not the most pleasant thing he's experienced, but what's worse is the way Yelena is watching him. Not at all okay with this. She never liked seeing him hurt.
His eyes meet Yelena's, and her eyes are filled with dread. He manages to mouth his words with a weak smile. I’ll. Find. Her.
Bob's eyes start fluttering. His expression starts drooping as he's on the verge of passing out.
The world blurs as he starts to feel the rush; his head starts pounding. Then his surroundings turn dark. The pressure becomes too intense, and he goes limp. His body falls into Walker’s arms. Walker sighs, letting his arms unravel from his neck before he walks backwards, gently laying the man on the floor. He stays crouched next to him, hating this more than anything. “Now what?”
"We wait." Yelena chimes in solemnly. Grabbing a discarded chair, planting it before her unconscious friend, and plopping herself down on it. “And hope this work.”
-
Bob didn’t know how long he had been roaming through his shame rooms before a particular doorway appeared. The brown door, sticking out like a sore thumb from the white walls of his childhood home, his shame room, where his dad was screaming at him, asking him where he was going. He gave his father one more glance before he rushed towards it. Opening and slamming it shut behind it. But as he put his force behind the shove. The door itself caught on the doorframe. He tried again, but it wouldn’t budge, leaving behind the hope that it would close, but a thin space between the doorframe and the door prevented its enclosure.
“It doesn’t close…The floor is sunken there.” A high-pitched voice raises the hairs on the back of his neck. He pushes himself from the door before he swivels in place. A small child greets him on the floor.
"Y/n?" Bob inched closer to what he presumed to be your younger self. You were donning a pink and purple sweater, a sequined puppy plastered on the front of it. A few sequins turned over like you had run your hand across them. Black leggings worn out and fuzzy purple socks on your feet. A mirror of your adolescence.
Your younger self looks up as he approachs. He met her gaze before she pointed to the other end of the room. “She’s over there.”
He swiveled around, scoping the room's entirety, until his gaze settled on his goal. His search concluded as he saw you curled underneath a desk. His shoulders slumped at the sight. Your face was dazed, staring straight ahead. Eyes barely blinking. You, too, donned the puppy sweater and leggings. Different from your dress, which you looked lovely in tonight.
You hadn't even bothered to acknowledge his presence as your younger self kept trying to build a puzzle laid out before her. An image of a snowman, in a forest surrounded by trees. A few pieces were chipped, and one, unbeknownst to him, was missing, lost, meaning you'd never fully complete it over the years of trying to, in this room.
"Y-Y/n." He reveled in saying your name out loud.
"I don't want to talk to anyone." Bob turned to look back at the child, placing another piece in its correct spot.
Bob crouched down to be eye level with you under the desk. He held his breath, waiting for any sort of reaction. For a flash of recognition, but there was nothing. No response.
"I-I didn't mean for you to be trapped in here." His voice shook.
Bob's expression twisted into one of deep regret. He reached out to touch your knee but stopped himself, his hand hovering a few inches above as it trembled. His gaze flitted to your younger self. She seemed focused on the puzzle piece in her hand, utterly oblivious to his internal torment. The sight only intensified his agony.
"I–" He opened his mouth to reply, perhaps to reassure you, but no words were forthcoming. "C-Can I join you?" Bob fell back on his bottom and gestured gently to the center. Your younger self looked up.
"Sure." She barely peers up at him, unbothered by his request, but holds out a piece to include him all same.
Bob accepts the piece, his fingers lightly brushing against hers as he takes it. He turns it over in his grasp, examining the surface of it before looking back at the puzzle. He slides his piece into place, his movements careful but precise, ensuring a perfect fit.
"Thanks." He murmurs, his gaze drifting back to your younger self. He swallows hard, his jaw clenching as if chewing on words he couldn’t quite muster. He lets something out for now. "I've never been good at these..." Bob confesses, "Could never finish them. Sit still."
"It's okay...We've never finished this one, but we keep trying to." The child's disheartened smile makes him want to break down.
Bob nods curtly, his throat tight. The sight of your indifference nearly unravels him. He turns his attention back to the puzzle, trying to ground himself in its simple but comforting task. He picks up another piece, turns it over.
"I’m... I can't-" Bob stops short, clearing his throat as it threatened to close up. He tries again. "I can't believe I did this to you." He whispers, more to himself than anything. "I wish I had more control over my powers. I could have saved you the pain."
"We're not mad at you for it. We promise." Your younger self reassures. Handing him another piece after placing another perfect fit down.
Bob's breath hitches in his chest. Your reassurance is like a balm to his wounded soul. Hearing those simple words from you, from her, eases some of the guilt that has been consuming him. He accepts another piece from you, gently placing it into the puzzle again.
"You… You should be." He mutters, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "I put you in here." His gaze flicks back to her face, taking in her innocence, how calm she remains. It's infuriating. Why are you not raging at him? Shouting? He deserves it.
"The Void put us here." You corrected him. "What's being upset over it gonna accomplish?" Your younger self hovers her hand over a certain area; uncertainty flashes behind her eyes. You're hesitant. Bob, conflicted, reaches forward and guides her small hand over to a spot he thinks it will fit. It does. "Thanks." She’s appreciative before enthusiastically grabbing another, ready to advance in the puzzle's completion.
Bob's heart clenches as you respond rationally. It's eerily shocking how mature you are for your age. The way you forgive so easily is at odds with the guilt he feels. Yet, somehow, your words have an undeniable power over him. He can feel the grip of the Void's hold on him loosen ever so slightly. He helps you slide in the next piece as it clicks into place. Your giggle warms his heart. The corners of his lips curl up at the sound.
"How can…. How can you be so calm about this?" Bob can't help but ask, his voice tinged with disbelief mixed with awe.
"I-I have to..." Your younger self falters. Her composure glitched before she blinked and continued as if nothing had happened. She avoided his gaze, looking back down at the puzzle. "We have to be. Otherwise, what comes next would be unbearable."
Bob's brow creases with concern at the glitch. A ripple in your memory, the imposed calmness that he couldn't miss, faltering. The way you had been referring to yourselves as we, never as I. He was getting somewhere. At least he hoped he was.
"What…" He hesitates, but curiosity gets the better of him. "What's coming next?"
"Ya estoy harta!" Your younger self flinches as a glass breaks in the distance. "Vete con tus pinche putas! Ya no me importa! Largarte! Largarte!"
"Ya no puedo! Ya basta. Pinche loca ya no puedo!"
Bob immediately tenses, ready to protect you and your younger self from whatever threat looms, but as the shouting continues in the distance, he recognises something familiar in the language. Spanish.
"Is... Is that...?" He whispers, knowing the answer but hoping he's wrong.
"S-Spanish." Your body convulses and twitches as the vulgar language is spoken. Feeling gross. You try to block them out, pausing your puzzle making, your hands harshly slammed against your ears. Tears form in your eyes as the screams only continue. You run over to the door, banging and kicking it. The kick makes the door widen, before you push against it.
"Shut up!" Bob flinches as your small body screeches. "Shut up! Ya cállate!" Your outcry only intensified. Your body shaking with sobs. "Shut up! Shut up!" You turn the lock, knowing it serves no real purpose. Your bedroom door barely closed. The doorframe stopped it from entirely shutting. You've never been able to lock it, not once. You turned and walked over to a corner where a dresser sat. You go to push it until it starts sliding across the floor. Pushing with everything you had in your tiny body, until it sat in front of the door. Blocking them from entering. You didn't want them near you. You kick the wall next to it in anger. To have them hear just how upset they made you. Hoping your meltdown would cause them to stop, to see how much they’re hurting you. You go far as to grab something heavy launching it into the wall too. The bang as agressive as your parents anger.
It's not long before you move to where you remain under the desk. Your younger self crawls underneath with you. Scooting herself next to you as your older self ticks and shivers at the language exchanged. Your younger self cups her ears and lets out an ear-piercing scream. All the while, yourself sheds a tear. It's only then that he finally gets a real reaction from you. You turn to your younger self wanting to save her the pain. You wrap an arm around her and tuck her in close to your side.
Bob is frozen in place as the scene unfolds before him. The sheer desperation in your voice is gut-wrenching; you just want it to stop. He watches with staggered breaths as your younger self curls into you. The shouting and screaming continue in the background.
He wants to move, to grab the dresser and shove it through the wall, to put an end to the shouting and the pain taking place on the other side of that door. But he remains where he is, watching yourself try to help your younger self find solace. His eyes dart to the blocked door, listening to the muffled yelling from outside. He grits his teeth, anger bubbling within him.
When he turns back to look at you both. Your younger self is nowhere to be found beside you. "Here!" His head turns to the child sitting before him again on the floor. Another puzzle piece was offered to him once again.
How long did you relive this before he got here? The memory had reset again, he realized.
Bob's hands tremble as he gradually accepts the puzzle piece. Peering down at the upright face, snow-like texture painted on the piece to help him determine where it could go. He stares at it, guilt slowly seeping into his bones as he lifts his head to watch your younger self concentrate on the image the pieces were curating.
"How...How many times has she-you-" Bob can't even fathom how long you've been sitting under your desk, to appear so numb to everything. "How long have you been in here?"
"This is loop ten." Younger you, spares him a pinched grin. It doesn't reach her eyes.
Bob's stomach churns at the revelation. Loop ten? You've had to face this same scene ten times over, stuck in an endless cycle. He wants to scream, to tear everything apart, to make it stop. But he can't. He's just a participant in this twisted nightmare. His eyes shift between the puzzle and your younger self, his guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders, but he'd be damned if he didn't try. He had to try; this was you he was talking about. You'd done so much for him; he owed you that much. To push past how scared he was of screwing things up even more.
Your younger self looks up, halting her movements. "I-I can't finish it." You finally refer to yourself in first person. You look down at the puzzle. "I just wanna finish it."
"You want to finish the puzzle?" Bob questions, his words tinged with both confusion and understanding. He glances at the puzzle, taking in the incomplete image. It's beautiful in its own way, even without all the pieces. But the thought of you stuck in this repetitive loop, trying to complete it, it's unbearable. "You... You don't have to finish it." He says softly, his hand hovering over yours, unsure if he can even change your mind within the confines of this memory.
"I want to." Hope. A small spark ignites within Bob as your younger self expresses her determination. He picks up on the subtle changes in your expressions, the way your younger self glitches and gives way to glimpses of your older self. He clings onto this as a sign of change, that he can somehow alter this loop.
His back straightens. He looks back at you under the desk. You were still there, but a sliver of hope had him realizing you wanted to crawl from underneath there. "I... I get close, and then I never do. There's always a piece missing." The child's brows furrow with frustration. You go to place the remaining six pieces before pulling your hands into your lap.
"Missing piece?" His eyes flick back to the puzzle, taking in the image, searching for what could be amiss. Then there it is, the center spot, vacant. His gaze darts around the room. "Maybe it's somewhere else? In a drawer? Or under the bed?" He muses, his mind racing with possibilities, until the screams of your parents have him glancing at the door. He glances down at you, then at you under the desk.
"Hey!" You peer up at him. "Just... Just focus on me. Listen to my voice…not theirs. Okay?" With labored breaths, his grin grows as he tries to reassure you from the shouting behind the door. "Where would you look first?" Your younger self gets up and heads for the door, when suddenly you appear criss-crossed before him. His eyes widened, trying to gain your attention this time. "Y/n? Hey!" He exclaims, reaching forward, touching your shoulders. "Hey. Hi, oh my god hi!" You turn back to face him after having peered over at the door.
"B-Bob?" Your voice croaks.
"Yes!" Bob lets out a sigh of relief. He can't help the small laugh that escapes his lips. "Yes, it's me. Me Bob. That's me!" He gives a firm nod, still holding onto your shoulders. He leans down to meet your gaze. "I'm so sorry. The team told me what happened and how Void got out and ruined everything. How everyone came back, but you never did. I... I should've stayed home. I knew it was a bad idea to go to that gala, but the team insisted, you insisted, on getting me out of the tower, and...I screwed everything up again. Like I always do. But I'm here. I'm here and I want to make things right. I'm gonna get you out of here." His conviction bled through.
Your eyes glisten. You looked so small compared to the confidence you carried around him and the others earlier in the evening. You flinch, glancing over your shoulder as another vulgar word reaches your ears. "D-Don't listen to them." Bob turns your chin back over to him.
Bob forces a pinched smile as your attention returns to him. He squeezes your shoulders, his fingers gently kneading into your flesh, trying to ground you. "You want to finish this puzzle…We'll finish it." He says firmly, his eyes never leaving your face.
You muster a nod before looking at the blank spot, mocking you from its completion. Bob pulls back. Your younger self begins screaming and pushing the dresser towards the door. Your eyes close as a tick rakes through you. Bob takes note of your reaction, how the side of your ear hit your shoulder blade. Your younger self finishes under the desk, before she appears beside you and Bob. The puzzle resets back to its previous state of incompleteness once again.
Loop eleven.
He shifts his eyes down to your hands, something you twirled around mindlessly, catching his attention. His brows furrow as he reels in the object you acquired, the thing you fiddle with, it was the piece you needed to finish the puzzle.
You had it this whole time. His eyes soften.
"It seems almost selfish..." You concur.
His mouth parts as the realization dawns on him. "You..." Bob whispers, his words lost in awe. "You had it this whole time?" His gaze switches from the piece in your hand back to your face.
Your younger self's determination and stubbornness faded, replaced by the realization that you were holding onto the very thing you sought all along. He's struck by the simplicity yet irony of it all. You were so close to finishing the puzzle, but blinded by what was literally in your hands to do it. He shifts and turns to your younger self, peering up at you, expression expectant, waiting, filled with melancholy. She goes back to adding the six final pieces again.
"This stupid piece…That I could never find. I threw the puzzle away when I couldn’t finish it. It’s so stupid…"
Bob looks at the puzzle piece, a mix of emotions roiling within him. He feels a pang of guilt, knowing how long you'd been trapped here, the endless loop of trying to finish the puzzle without realizing you possessed the very thing needed to complete it. Your younger sits back, wringing her hands together, a mirror of his timidness. It brought him a sense familiarity, something he weighed on now, that you both had something in common. He reaches out, gingerly taking your younger self's hand, before looking back at you.
"It's not stupid." He reassures you. "Sometimes… we search for things so hard we forget to look in simple places." He pauses, his gaze lingering.
Your inner turmoil was evident. You dig a hand into a side pocket of your sweater, he hadn't known was there. "It was in my pocket..." You scoff. Shaking your head. "This whole time!"
Bob watches you, the realization settling in for both your younger and older selves. Younger you then mirrors your actions, stuffing her hand in the pockets, only to pull them out and be left empty handed. It was a poignant moment. "You-" Bob can't even finish the sentence, words momentarily lost on him. It was so simple.
Bob couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, a bittersweet sound. The absurdity of the situation wasn't lost on him. You had been carrying the solution to your problem all along, hidden in your pocket. He shook his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and amazement. "I-I once lost my phone…It was in my hand the entire time." A lopsided grin took over his features. ”Though I’m pretty sure it was the meth that hindered my senses from realizing it was there the whole time...” He trails off, noting that his attempt to offer a similar experience did nothing to comfort you.
"It’s not the same…" You shake your head.
Bob breathes a faint laugh at your pouting, the sound of it reverberating across the room, a stark contrast to the ongoing shouting and aggression outside the room. "I think...I think you'll be okay." He chides gently, trying to bring light to the situation.
“How do you know that?”
“‘Cause you guys helped me…Help me still.” He corrects
Your hesitance was not lost on him. You peer up through your eyelashes, then back down to the piece. "What if this doesn't fix anything?"
Bob pauses as he takes in your question. The weight of it hangs in the air, his earlier optimism faltering for a moment. Hearing your apprehension only solidified the concern. Bob's smile fades into a serious expression. He takes in your younger self’s small form, then to you, the way your shoulders are slumped, and the anxiety settled in your eyes. "I don't know if it will." He admits earnestly, his voice soft. "I just...I just really, really hope it does. It has to."
"Is this all it takes…To just fix it?" You twirl the piece around mindlessly. "This single piece my ticket to getting out of here?"
Bob looks at you, really looks at you. The piece of paper board between your fingers spinning in a rhythmic motion, your eyes filled with a mix of peace and anguish. He sees the way your breathing picks up and the way your eyes dart around the room. He can see how much this effects you, the battle between your logical side and the part of you that's been trapped here for who knows how long, trying to meet in the middle. Conclude a final resolution.
"I...I don't know." He replies eventually. He tries. "I...I mean, you all saved me with a hug." He laughs, its nervous but light, then lets it die out. Bob wants to reassure you, to tell you that this piece will fix everything, but he can't because he's never been great at it. You were the one always putting him back together. You always had the right thing to say and knew when to apply it in your heart to hearts. "So what's to say you can't be fixed by a puzzle piece?"
"Just like that?"
Bob nodded. "Just like that." He affirmed. He knows the simplicity of it, the absurdity, the notion of such a simple thing being the key to your liberation, could probably be seen as laughable. But he didn't see it as such, it might’ve been laughable—yes, but it wasn’t to him. Hope flared in him, a spark of optimism that the solution was so simple, so ridiculously easy. "Yeah…just like that." He repeated, his voice resolute, putting your worries and fears to rest.
"Just like that..." You shed a tear, echoing his words. You take a deep breath, hearing your parents argue once more before you reach forward and place the piece in the center. Your body convulses as you begin to sob hysterically, your younger self sighing as you finish it for once. Bob's lip trembles as he pulls you into his chest.
He holds you tightly, your body trembling against his. His grip is firm yet gentle, a silent reassurance that he's there. His heart aches as he listens to your sobs. The sobs wrack your frame as your emotions come out, a tidal wave of relief and frustration breaking through the surface after what feels like a lifetime. He rubs small circles on your back, whispering soothing words into your hair, as his own eyes glisten with unshed tears.
"I’m sorry I put you in here. I’m sorry." He whispers into your hair. "It's okay. I've got you. I-I got you."
-
“Guys.” Walker alerted the team as a shadow appeared beside Bob’s body—a dark silhouette, mirroring your form.
The team looked over, frozen at the shadow's sudden appearance. Bucky took a cautious step forward, and Yelena rose from her chair.
It felt like you had woken up from a deep slumber when you came to. Everyone watched as your tar-like self was slowly revealing itself, like a sheet unveiling you. The shadows released you, shedding away from your form down to your heels. A sigh escaped from you as you pushed against the floor. Your dress draped around you like a blanket as you peered up at your team and the guest who lay witness. You hear a grunt to your right, you turn and watch Bob come to as well. His eyes were trying to settle amongst the warm lighting surrounding the gala. His suit was wrinkled and left in disarray as he sat up. Yelena's heels clicked closer as she reached down to help you stand. "Oh my god!" She pulled you in closer for a hug. You were still finding your bearings. "Thank god. I thought we lost you!" You peer over to see Bob take Bucky's arms appreciatively.
Bucky pulls Bob to his feet, and a sigh of relief leaves him as he sees him finally become aware of his surroundings. He pats Bob on the back a few times, his grip on his palm tight.
"I knew you could do it, buddy." Bucky greets him with a small smile, his expression slightly worried as he observes his disheveled appearance.
"Thank you?" Bob blinks a couple of times, a forced smile on his face, before it fades. "Do what exactly?"
"You don't remember-" Bucky confirms. "You brought Y/n back from the-" Bucky's words were interrupted by the touch of Alexei's grasp on his upper arm and the sound of Walker's words.
"Bucky...Let's debrief him later. Not right now." He suggested. "She's back and safe. We'll deal with it at home. Not here."
"Is everything okay?" Bob's gaze flickers over to see you surrounded by Yelena and Ava. They were checking you over, making sure everything was okay.
Were you hurt?
He looks back at Bucky, his expression hardening. "I brought Y/n back from what?"
"Not here, kid." Walker reached forward to pat his shoulder. "You did great, that's all that matters-" Walker inhales deeply as Bob's hand tightened around his wrist.
"Don't- Don't call me kid." Bob closes his eyes, his irritation getting the better of him as his eyes glow amber for a split second. He gestures a pointed finger at Walker. "From what?"
Alexei steps forward, placing a gentle hand on Bob’s tense shoulders. "Easy there." He cautiously speaks. "Everything is fine now."
Bob's face remains stern, his gaze steady, irritation clear in his expression. "Tell me."
Walker and Bucky exchanged a worried look, both of them noticing the change in Bob's demeanor. "Not now," Walker repeated, his voice firmer this time, his grip on Bob's hand that held his wrist, not letting up either. Bob sensed the clear indication that Walker wasn't going to elaborate, not in the middle of this venue. The commotion from earlier was probable cause for them to high-tail it out of there. Bob’s stubbornness didn’t help their favor.
Bucky leaned in, his tone low, hoping to diffuse the situation. He closed his eyes before giving in. "Look, Void got loose, okay? Something happened. Everyone came back, Y/n didn't." Bob's grip falters, his eyes softening at the information. "Later, okay? We'll explain everything later. But we should probably leave, head home."
"What do you mean she didn't come back?" Bob's confusion only grows. His eyes shifted over to where you were reassuring people that you were fine, who asked if you needed a doctor.
"No, no. I'm okay. Really." He heard your voice bellow out from the short distance between you.
Bob couldn't help but watch as you shook your head, waving off any worried busybodies, and he found himself torn. Part of him wanted to let it go, to leave it be as Bucky and the others insisted. But there was another part of him that yearned to understand. He couldn't leave without answers. He pushed against Bucky's arm, which was trying to ground him.
"Yelena-Yelena!" He called out to her. She waved off another guest, who couldn't mind their business.
“Yes, yes, fine. All is good and well now.”
"Oh my god, what a mess! Is she okay?" Valentina's voice became apparent. Where did she come from? "Y/n, dear, the second you don't feel like yourself, say when. I got medical on call, alright."
"Oh no, I'm fine. I don't need a medic to come-"
"Oh my god, Valentina. She's fine. I promise. Don't intervene." She grew annoyed with Valentina's facade of sudden concern. She wasn't worried about your well-being, just worried about maintaining your image in the public's eye. Valentina continued with her rambling about how much she cared and would prefer it if you were checked over. "Oh my god, we don't need a medic here, ТЫ УПРЯМЫЙ МУЛ!" Yelena cursed. Who knows how Valentina would settle this mess with the press? She double-takes at the sound of her name being called before her attention settles on Bob's concerned one.
"Is she okay?" He mouths.
"She's fine," She waves him off. "Promise." She then nods before rolling her eyes as Valentina rants about having let him out of the house. He reciprocates her nod before his shoulders relax briefly at her assurance, his worry slightly lessened. But something still gnawes at him. His gaze drifts over to you again, his expression turning solemn as he sees the fake smiles and the feigned concern that some are displaying. You didn’t need their fake niceties.
His gaze lingers on you, trying to garner any sign that you weren't fine, but it wasn’t long before you locked eyes.
You catch his gaze, then begin excusing yourself from the small crowd, as a sense of anxiety overcomes you.
"Excuse me-" You politely muttered as you made your way toward him. It was as if a gravitational pull was urging you to him. The room, the people, everything else faded into the background as your focus solely centered on him.
Bob straightens at your approach, taken aback as you nestle yourself into his chest, your arms wrapping around him.
Startled, he initially freezes for a few seconds before his body relaxes, molding into you. His arms naturally encircle your form, pulling you into a tight embrace, his chin perched on top of your head. Your scent and warmth enveloped him, a sense of comfort washing over him. You felt like home.
"Hi…" Bob's voice, a soft whisper, reached your ears as he greeted you. You feel his hands mold more firmly around your waist, a gesture that makes your heart skip.
"Hi..." You return the greeting, your own voice just as soft, finding solace in the familiar sound of his breaths. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah..." His response short. “Are you okay?" He emphasizes, a hand gently stroking your exposed back.
"I'm fine." You wave it off.
Bob's eyebrow raises, his expression doubtful as he peers down at you. "You sure...?" He questions further, knowing you're prone to downplaying. But so was he.
“Yes and no.” A nervous laugh resounded from you.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” He offers, even though he’s not sure what he’s saving you from. He’s caught glimpses of your past before, not that you’d ever truly forego the idea of talking to him about it. He was much alike you in the manner of only giving surface levels of his ugly past. You both only knew what you allowed to be seen.
“You did. You helped me.” Your words, their simplicity, but all the more effective, affectionate, sure. He helped you? How could he have helped you, but have no recollection of it? You smile sweetly as you reach to place a kiss on his cheek. Was this your thankfulness wrapped up in an act of endearment? “You might not remember it, but you were enough, and you were there." You nod suringly.
He looks at the way you're molded against his chest. How his hands fit and embrace your figure like he's ready to protect and shield you from harm's way. The way your softened eyes perceive him in this lightheartedness. Like he's somehow hung the stars in your night sky. He can't help but wonder what he's done. What he's done to be truly worth being perceived delicately. You look like you're scared he'll disappear right before your eyes, when he's the scared one, thinking you'll break under his touch.
"Bucky’s saying Void got out again..." He looks down between your bodies. "I should have stayed home- I made everything worse-"
"You did nothing wrong, okay." You reach up, cupping his face gently, lifting his chin so he'd meet your gaze. "You did nothing wrong." You insist. He places his palms over your hands. Leaning into the warmth your touch brings him.
“I remember him..." He nods at his sudden recollection. It comes to him in bits and pieces. "Ryker." His hands slide up your wrist to the purple indentations marring your wrist, contrasting your skin's original shade. He opens his eyes, hoping he's wrong when he peers at the discoloration. But your hurt wrist only brings forth the truth. Telling him everything he didn’t want to be true. He feels guilty for even letting the asshole execute the action, he tries to conjure up ways he can make the injury vanish. Would a kiss heal your wounds? Take away his mistakes? He opted not to, but he was tempted to do so. "He bruised you." He nods, firm and sure.
"Bruises fade, Bob." There you go again, downplaying someone's unforgiving behavior.
"A bruise might...The memories won't." You shake your head at his trepidation. "Why didn't you fight him? You...You're capable of defending yourself?" Bob looks into your eyes.
"I didn't want to escalate the situation..." You shrug dismissively..
"But he hurt you? He hurt you, and I couldn't stop him in time, I-" He pauses, when it hits him like a tidal wave. The way various shouts echo through his head. Your voice bellowing in anguish. A flash of your face painted with pain.
You had been thrown across the center of the venue's dance floor. You rolled and then landed awkwardly on your stomach. Your once neat hairdo was disheveled in your sudden state. You pushed up with your heels and palms.
"Y/n!" Yelena made for you, but you shook your head.
"No, no, don't." You held your hand out, halting Walker and Yelena from approaching you. "Stay back!" You warned.
"B-Bob stop!" You cry out, a rasp to your voice.
"I hurt you..." Bob's eyes widen in fear. He tries to pull your hands away from his face. It was as though he were the Flint Striker and you were the one caught on fire. He was burning you. "No, no, no..." His eyes close as he gently grips your palms and lowers them to your waist. You didn't want to let him go. "I make everything worse. I should have stayed home- I didn't mean to hurt you-"
"Bob." You begin your reasoning. “No, I’m fine. You saved me! You got me out of there, everything’s better now.” You reach for him when he flinches. He hates how your face falls, even more so, when he denies you proximity.
“I-I should’ve stayed home.” He accepts before making his way back to Bucky, asking if they could leave.
“B-Bob!” You call after him, your dam cracking, hearing faint clicks approach your form from behind, you look up.
“Come on. Let’s get you both home before Valentina makes an ever bigger show.”
Yelena.
You peer at her, eyes glistening. She tilts her head, an apologetic smile on her face.
“Come on.” She wraps a blazer around your shoulders. One that smelled oddly like the shaggy-haired man. You were dreading the car ride home, that much certain.
-
“So you instigated him?” The drive back to the watch tower was nothing short of an unbearable experience. Your scowl and crossed arms giving way to how pissed off you were. Bucky and Walker avoided your harsh, directed stare. Bob had sat to your side, curling in on himself as the tension only intensified. His hands were warm, a mock of how close your skin was to touching, but he’d more than likely pull away.
Dreadful.
Now you all had made it out of the elevator with the team hot on your trail. Your heels clicked heavily against the floors. Bob stood off to the side slowly discarding the tie Yelena had done for him. He looked down at the fabric. Messing with it idly to distract himself from the fight he knew would break out. His shoulders reflected that of a small child anticipating his parent’s anger, slumped over on his tall frame.
“I wouldn’t say that? It was more of a friendly bit of teasing. All we did was give him the nudge he needed to confess the undying love he has for you.” Walker sighed as he went over to the bar. “We saw how pissed Ryker was making you…told the kid to go save you or to stop bitching about how much he wants to be with you.”
Asshole.
“So you hazed him and made Void come out.”
“Well, when you put it that way…” Walker trails off.
“You’re unbelievable!”
“Look, we didn’t mean for it to happen-“
“Didn’t mean-“ You laugh incredulously. “Spare me, Walker. No one can function properly, when you’re down everyone’s throat with childish antics. What were you even thinking?”
“Y/n, you don’t need to stick up for me-” Bob tried to create space between you and the Soldier.
“He wasn’t.” Bucky stepped in. Running a hand down his face tiredly. “We thought it’d be harmless, Y/n. Why would we ever intentionally put him through that sort of thing?”
“I told you we were gonna get him out of the house so he good have a fun night. Did I not tell you I wanted no weapons for tonight? To not wound him up to the point of his other self being unleashed. I was gonna come back after I handled Ryker. I had it handled.” You sneer at the man. Tears forming in your eyes, shaking your head at his ignorance.
A scoff to your left makes everyone’s head turn. Bob fiddles with his tie, his head shaking, a half smile settled over his face. “He bruised you…that’s not handling it.”
“Bob-“ You sigh.
“It…It wasn’t their fault, Y/n. If anyone’s to blame, blame it on me. I went after you…”
“No-“ You protest.
“Bucky and Walker only brought the idea up to me...It was my choice alone. I made the decision…to check on you. But now…I-I should have stayed home-“ Bob shakes his head. “Valentina was right…I shouldn’t have been let out.”
“Valentina can dig her grave and lie in it. I’m tired of her trying to keep you locked up here. You’re allowed to go outside when you feel like it! You’re not under house arrest, she can’t confine you to this place-”
“I just make everything worse.” Bob's brows pinch together. You cup your stomach as tears begin to spill down your face.
“No. You don’t. Don’t think like that. You don’t, I promise.” Your protest further escalated his self-loathing.
“Void took hold of you from what everyone is saying, and for whatever reason, felt the need to keep you from getting back to us. He hurt you, I hurt you.“
“But that’s not on you! That wasn’t your fault! It was mine. For thinking I could somehow bring you back down from in there.” Your eyes meet his temple. “I made things worse. I mean—I shot a bullet at you! I could have knocked him on his ass, but I didn’t and it wasn’t the right call for me to make.” You argue.
“We’re one whole. How is it not my fault?” His shoulders slumped, looking at the team’s conflicted expressions. “Am I wrong?” He breathes a laugh out. “Nothing ever turns out great when I’m around.” He slowly retreats towards the stairs. “I told you guys I should’ve stayed home...”
“Bob please…” You call after him.
“Let him go.” Bucky orders. You turn back to look at your teammates.
“D-Did I just ruin this things between us?” You let your arms flop down to your sides.
“No…it’s not your fault. This isn’t your fault at all.” Bucky reassures you. He walks over to you and squeezes your shoulder.
“Why didn’t you knock him on his ass?” Walker questions.
“I was going to,” You snapped back at him. “-but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I don't know...It felt like I was back there again, enduring his abuse when he grabbed me...I guess I froze." You shrug nonchalantly. "Then Bob showed up...and I couldn't think straight. Couldn't think of a way not to escalate things further, but I only made it worse, and it cost Ryker his life in the end...Cost Bob a fun night."
"He killed him?" Walker closes his eyes; your turmoil didn't do anything to hide it. He didn't miss the coms from the authorities either, claiming one casualty earlier on their way out of the venue.
You looked at the floor. "He did...and he doesn't need that put on him. So don't fucking tell him." You warn.
"I think Bob should decide that for himself, no?" Bucky raised a brow at you. "What happened to letting him make his own choices from now on?"
“Well, he wanted to stay home, but we all kept insisting he go out with us. So I don’t know anymore! And I'm not deciding for him..." Your hands were balled into a tight fist. "He should decide, yes, but when he's ready. He doesn't need to know about it right now...It just happened and a part of me isn’t too upset with him about it, but he's in such a vulnerable state right now...I feel like it’ll only do more harm than good...It'll be another thing for him to hate himself over...He doesn’t need that right now.” You say softly. “You guys should have seen him when we were in the void…He’s so capable and we take his gifts for granted.”
“We never thought he was incapable, it's why we agreed to allow him to make his own choices, decide what he eats for dinner, allow him to find his own hobbies. Tonight was just a one-time incident where we peer pressured him into leaving his room, when he didn't want to."
“Well, that peer pressure backfired, didn’t it?” You said under your breath. You run a hand down your face in frustration. “God, he didn’t even want to leave his room...Did you see how uncomfortable he was at dinner? You said it yourself, we coerced him. And I’ve never seen him more upset about it...” You turn your head, peering at the staircase. "Was it stupid of me to think we could show him a fun night out?"
"No. We all wanted the same for him." Yelena shakes her head. "It's not stupid."
"Then why does it feel like it is? He's probably up in his room beating himself up for even stepping outside."
"'Cause you love him..." Yelena gave you a pinched tired grin.
You look away from her. Your shoulders slumped as your eyes burned with unshed tears. It was quiet. No one was sure of what to say. You closed your eyes as that familiar pain in your chest returned. "I do. I love him..." Your voice broke. "But this isn't about how I feel. It's about him." You shake your head. "He was just starting to feel a little more secure with himself in public...He's gonna hate himself for thinking he ruined everyone's night. I could see it in his eyes...The last thing he needs is to feel guilty over something he has no control over." You continue.
"It's not fair to him...He's had it rough for so long, and every time there's progress, something bad happens that takes him thirty steps back." You let out a small scoff. "Maybe I never should have brought up the idea of a night out in the first place...How can he forgive me after a night like tonight?"
"'Cause he loves you too." Yelena tilts her head at your self-deprecation.
You look at her. Your body stiffens, and your chest tightens as you let her words sink in. "But what good is it to love me if it only brings him pain? How long before that love fades to nothing because of my negligence?"
Yelena shakes her head, taking your hands in hers. "You can't doubt yourself, or his feelings for you. I know it's difficult, but the last thing you need to do is start putting yourself down and feeling sorry about tonight." She squeezes your hands.
Bucky stood next to you, his arms crossed over his chest as he nodded in agreement. "You know that you mean a lot to him right?"
“And he only agreed to go out because you wanted him there with us.” Yelena admits.
“Also, we might’ve encouraged him to confess his feelings for you, but he wanted to do it at his own time…I should have stopped then and there, kid. I’m sorry.”
Bucky’s admission only added to the weight that sat heavy in your chest. You look over at him and nod slowly, unable to form words.
Yelena gently rubbed you on the back. “You know he can’t stay inside that room forever. You both need each other." Yelena chimed in. “Plus he can’t go a day without his cereal so there’s that…”
"He'll come to his senses..." Walker gives you a faint grin. “He’d be stupid not to.”
“T-Thanks guys…” You step back from Yelena’s hands. “I’m gonna be outside if you need me…gonna clear my head.”
“Want some company?” Ava offers surprisingly.
“N-No I’m okay.” You brush her off before you head out to the roof.
“Take the time you need, little one.” Alexei chimes after you. You raises a thumb in the air in your exit.
When you're out of sight, Walker asks. "What time is it?"
Bucky checks his watch. "Just a quarter till midnight. Why?"
At the realization, Walker takes off towards the staircase. "Walker, what are you doing?" Yelena called after him.
"Keeping my promise!" He called from over his shoulder. “You'll see!” Bucky, Yelena, Ava shared a look as he ran up the stairs and disappeared.
"What the hell is that about?" Yelena gapes before shaking her head. “Whatever, I’m going to bed. Someone make sure Y/n doesn’t jump off the roof.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about that…” Bucky shakes his head.
-
You hadn't fully registered how the cold breeze stung you until you felt a jacket fall over your shoulders. You had been so caught by New York's optics that you missed the metal door creak open. You jump at the sudden contact, thinking you'd see someone beside you, but you had to turn further around to see the man of the hour, who had been running through your mind, stood at the door. You take note of the hand he lowers back down to his side. Putting two and two together about how the jacket made it to you. He made it float. "Bob..."
“Walker said you might be cold…” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Right…I-I was...thank you." You turn your head, nuzzle your nose into the fabric as you insert your arms through the arm holes.
He nods his head. “Welcome…” His chest feels tight watching you snuggle into his jacket. His gaze settled down in front of him. Neither of you say anything. The sounds of New York City echo throughout the night air. Car engines, taxi cabs, faint horns in the distance. Time did seem to stop up here, whereas life continued down on the streets. It was oddly comforting. "C-Could I join you?"
You look back at him, surprised by his suddenness. "Yeah...Yeah of course."
He nods then takes the spot next to you; awkwardly fidgets with his fingers in his lap. He turns his head, looking at you in his jacket. It was a sight for sure...He tried to ignore the way his heart palpitated in his chest.
He tries to focus on the sound of the wind and the city in the distance. But his eyes linger on you, taking in your form. How the evening sky envelopes you in its darkness, distant lights from neighboring buildings causing a warm hue to make your face visible to him, the way the wind nipped at your nose, and your sniffles took over you...He couldn't deny it...You looked beautiful, so carefree.
You turn at the right time and catch him gazing at you. Your eyes crinkle with a hint of heat that rushes up to warm your cheeks. You both emit a nervous laugh, settling your eyes onto your laps. His hands wring together, yours fiddling with the jacket's sleeves.
The silence continued, but this time, there was an obvious tension in the air. The both of you were hyper-aware of it. His eyes continued to dart between you and the city lights. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything..."
His heart stutters in his chest. He takes a shaky breath, his nervousness building. He looks back at you. You look at him reassuringly, like you genuinely meant that one word...Anything.
It makes it difficult for him to get the next words out. "...It’s a stupid question." He rubs the back of his neck.
“That’s okay.”
"I-I just-" He sighs, his jaw clenching as he looks out at the city again. "This might sound weird...But do you know how to tie a tie?" He swallows down any anxiety, forcing his gaze back on you.
“Oh.” Your eyes widen at the peculiar question. “Do I know how to tie a tie?” You ask again to ensure you heard him right. Bob nods yes.
“Sorry...I warned you it was a stupid question. Just...Forget I asked, okay?" He rubs the back of his neck again, looking away.
"No, No...It's okay. If you really want to know. I do."
His eyes flicker with curiosity, meeting your gaze. "You...You do?" He quirks an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Why do you ask?"
He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but there was an underlying hint of something in his eyes. "Oh, I was just...I was just curious, that's all...I can’t put one on myself...Yelena did it for me, but I…" He trails off, looking back at the city. "I just thought maybe...You could-" His words die in his throat, cutting himself off before he lets any more words slip. He shakes his head, his hands continuing to fidget in his lap.
You register the implication. "Teach you?" You try.
His breath hitches in his throat as you finish his sentence. He looks back at you, his eyes a mix of vulnerability and relief. He could sense the anticipation in your gaze, waiting for him to respond. "Y-Yeah...Teach me." He finally manages to rasp out. "So Yelena won't have to anymore..."
"Yeah, I can. Tell me when okay." You grip his hand. He nods.
"O-Okay..." He looks down at his lap. Your touch is soft and warm. He can't help letting the guilt eat at him. You were being so gentle with him when he was anything but. "I'm sorry I hurt you..."
"Don't-” You shake your head. “Don't do that. Don't apologize." You squeeze his hand gently. "It wasn't your fault...You weren't in control."
"But that doesn't change the fact that my other half hurt you!" He snaps back, his grip on your hand momentarily tightening. You both look down at his hold, his shoulders lose their tension before he's holding you like you're made out of porcelain.
"Look at me, please." You request softly. He raises his head, trying to avoid eye contact. His chest tightens, knowing he can’t hold your gaze for too long. "It wasn't you."
His jaw clenches, his eyes stinging. "I should've stayed here...Then I wouldn't have ruined the night." His breath shakes, the words leaving him in a broken whisper. His eyes meet yours, tears blurring his vision. He hated this—all of this.
Tears sting your eyes as well. Your free hand reaches up, brushing his cheek gently. His eyes flutter at your touch. "You didn't ruin anything..."
He shakes his head, refusing to accept the comfort you try to offer him. The guilt is too heavy, weighing him down like a thousand-pound weight. He feels so undeserving. "I did...I always do. I-I..." His voice trails off, tears spilling down his cheeks.
"No-" Your hand cups his face, forcing him to look at you. "No, you don't. You might make mistakes, but you don't always screw things up. You're a good man, Bob. You're so much more than what you think of yourself..." You lean your forehead against his. “You’re good.”
He tries not to melt at the way you say his name. His face falls forward, leaning his forehead into yours. He closes his eyes, savoring the feeling of your touch, your words. "How can you say that? Especially after tonight..."
"Because it’s true.” You softly run your thumb over his cheek, catching another tear that slips down. “You are such a good man.” You take a shaky breath, trying to find the right words. “You’ve been through a lot…You’ve been beaten down many times…but you keep bouncing back up.” He’s still against you, his breathing ragged as he lets the comfort of your proximity soothe him. “You brought me back from the Void, you didn’t leave me…You’re so good!” You breathe out a laugh. "I wish you'd see it yourself."
He can’t speak, the lump in his throat preventing him from doing so. Instead, he closes his eyes tighter, relishing in the sound of your voice. He’s desperate to soak up every word you say, to have them sink in, become second skin. He’s been deprived of something so simple for so long, to hear the one person he cares about say those words…It’s making him unravel at the seams. When he finally speaks, it’s barely above a whisper. “Do you love me?”
The question hangs in the air like the sound of a church bell. You take note of how he’s looking at you. The way he leans into your touch, seeking the comfort of human contact that he’s been deprived of. Your hand gently cups his chin, your other moving to rest over his heart. His gaze is fixed on yours like an anchor, waiting for you to respond. You can read the desperation and need in his eyes, the vulnerability that he's trying so hard to conceal.
You see a man wanting, no, begging to be loved. To be told that he's worthy of it despite believing otherwise. You look at the way he's clutching your hand, desperate for some kind of reassurance. He's hurting, still so damn broken, but not loving him with every fiber in your being would hurt you more. "Yes…God, I’d be stupid not to." You breathe a laugh.
Your words hit him like a tidal wave. His heart stutters in his chest, the grip he has on your hand clenching involuntarily. His eyes search yours again, looking for any sign of deception, anything to tell him you don't really mean it. But all he sees is complete honesty looking right back at him. He shakes his head; a broken laugh escapes his lips as his chest tightens at the confession. "Yeah…You really mean that?"
His questioning. It only hurts you further. So you cup his face, bringing him closer so you could look into his eyes. “I do. I mean it...I love you.” He flinches. He’s frozen, eyes searching your face, waiting for you to take it back. You don’t.
You run your thumb over his skin, gently brushing your nose against his. You see tears form in his eyes again, and suddenly, his hands are on your waist. Gripping the material of the jacket he gave to you, pulling you close. “Can you repeat it?” He finally croaks out.
“I love you…” You’d tell him three thousand times if he asked.
He shivers; the tremble of his chin is barely noticeable. “Again?” You’re suddenly pulled into his lap with a soft force. The grip he has on you is tight, not rough, as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
"I love you." You trace his jawline. He lets out a shaky breath. It's not long till you're leaning in to capture his lips with yours.
The first touch of your lips against his has him releasing a low groan. His eyes flutter as he melts into it before he suddenly pulls you flush against him, desperately trying to savor it—savor your touch. His lips move against yours in a frenzy, his hands gripping you tighter on your hips. The kiss is filled with need, a longing he can barely contain.
He can’t get enough. The taste of you was so sweet and warm. He’s been deprived of such a simple thing that now his body screams for it. His heart beats wildly in his chest, his hands exploring every part of you he can reach. He can feel your body against his, its heat, that only adds fuel to the fire. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate and desperate than you expected from him. When you pull back to gather your bearings, to allow oxygen back into your lungs, you can’t help but cry. Bob, already second-guessing the little make-out session, feeling he's done something wrong, was relieved when your words deterred his troubled thoughts.
“You're good, you're worthy, and you are so loved…” You wipe the remaining tears with the back of your hand. "If you ever take anything from this conversation, Bob, let it be those three words. You deserve to be wanted. To be happy, to be loved…"
Invisible Silver Linings (5/7)
Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x F!Reader
Series Warnings: 18+, Thunderbolts* spoilers, language, angst, mentions of scars, mentions of self-harm/suicidal ideations
Summary: You signed on to become part of a study when you realized that you didn't have anything left to lose. What harm could it really do? How much worse could it really get? ... You didn't expect to get answers to those questions. You also didn't expect to meet Bob. You'd end up thankful for at least one of those things.
Chapter Index
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: it wouldn't be Thunderbolts* fanfiction without some suffering on Bob's part, i hate to say
The lights came back on again. Food got dropped off. You heard the sound of a door scraping against the floor as it opened. The only reason you knew it was Bob that was being taken was because he was talking loud enough as they took him out for you to hear him. He wasn't saying anything of consequence, but you knew from his tone that he was just trying to let you know that they were taking him somewhere. You wondered if that meant they were going to come for you soon too.
You got your answer a little while later. You were pacing around your room when they opened your door. It was a different woman than before, but she had the same outfit and clipboard. She stood in the gap of your doorway and watched you closely as you walked up to her.
“Cutting me loose, or?”
She motioned for you to step out. “We're moving onto the next phase of the trial, as long as you're still interested.”
You nodded, more out of desperation to be done with this entire excursion than anything else. When you'd signed on for this, you figured they'd stick a needle in you, or give you a few doses of pills to take and then keep you for a week or so to see if it killed you or balanced you out. You hadn't been expecting to get thrown into all of this.
She had you follow her to an elevator, and your eyes went wide at how many stories were in the building that you'd been stuck in. They must've been keeping you all in some hellish maze of subbasements then, since no daylight got in. Seemedlike adding insult to injury, keeping you all in the dark when there were so many other places they could've put you.
You had to squint your eyes when the elevator doors opened back up again. You'd spent who knows how long in darkness and manufactured light, but the floor she'd brought you to seemed to be wall-to-wall windows. Sunlight streamed in and covered anything. It was blinding, but you almost didn’t want to shield your eyes. You didn’t know if they were going to toss you back down into the dark again.
Half of the room looked like a lab straight out of the movies. Vials and beakers and monitors with scans on them. The other half of the room was sectioned off into tiny boxes, all glass and curtains. Sort of like exam rooms in a doctor's office only no doctor in their right mind would agree to this setup for their patients. You could make out silhouettes in some, your first assurance that there were in fact other people still here besides you and Bob. You wondered if he was in one of the rooms. Maybe you two were neighbors again.
The woman pushed open the door to one of the makeshift exam rooms. “Have a seat.”
You looked at the chair that was more of a chair-bed-hybrid, just like the ones at your doctor's office. After a moment of standing in the doorway, you looked at her again. “You guys gonna knock me out again?”
Her face gave nothing away, not even an acknowledgment of what'd happened to you before. “They'll be with you shortly to answer all of your questions. Please, take a seat.”
There was no use in arguing, so you went into the room. You were just going to stand and pace until someone else came in, but as the woman lingered in the doorway you realized she wasn’t going to leave until you did as you were told. Hopping up onto the seat you'd been provided, you made unwavering eye contact with the woman until she stepped away and shut the door behind her. You didn’t miss the click of the lock.
Since you were alone, you got right back off the bed and went over towards the window. You pulled in a deep breath, like you were breathing the fresh air from outside and not the over-circulated air coming out of the vents in the building. You could almost trick your mind into thinking they were the same, though, as you stared out over the expanse of the city. So many buildings, so many people looking so tiny on the sidewalks beneath you. It was peaceful in its chaos. Beautiful. You subconsciously rubbed at the insides of your wrists. To think that you'd nearly given it all up because—
Your enlightenment moment was cut short by the sound of someone screaming. Peeling yourself away from the window, you went back towards the door to try and catch a glimpse of what was happening out there. The curtains stopped you from seeing into the other matchbox-sized rooms, but you saw white blurs of lab coats as people ran past your door, presumably, towards the screaming.
The yell was definitely one born out of pain. You cringed at the sound, hoping for the sake of whoever it was that it would be over soon. If what was happening to them was that painful, maybe they'd just pass out. Hopefully you would too, if this was what you had to look forward to in phase two of whatever the hell this was.
“Stop! Stop!” they yelled. “I don't wanna do this anymore!”
Once the person spoke, you knew immediately that it was Bob. Your heart tightened inside your chest, like a set of vines were choking it out. Pressing your face against the glass door, you desperately tried to get a look at whatever it was that was going on. You flattened your palms on the door, one on either side of your head, and pushed as you continued to try and see what was happening.
The yelling continued. Bob begging them to stop whatever it was that they were doing to him. Doctors and scientists yelling for assistance in a way that had you thinking whatever was happening they hadn’t seen yet before. Before you realized what you were doing, you were pounding on the door and begging to be let out.
It reached a crescendo of screaming and then it fell silent. Dread seeped through every vein and artery of your body as you tried to figure out what had happened. Did they kill him? Was whatever this was too much and it killed him? Did the pain finally knock him out? But then why weren't they saying anything either?
You started hitting the door harder. You screamed Bob's name and waited for the glass to break beneath the slamming of your fists. Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you were forced to simply stand there and wait for whatever happened next. How did you always end up in this position? How did you always end up being so useless when people needed you the most?
Then the lights cut out. It was only for a second, two at most. But everything went dark. The brief power outage reset the lock on your door, so you eagerly ripped it open and launched yourself out into the expanse of the lab without a second thought. Looking around, you didn’t see anyone. The eerie part, though, was that nothing really seemed like it was out of place.
Your heart was thundering inside your chest as you took one tentative step after another. You called out for Bob but got no answer from him or anyone else. As you continued to walk, you glanced into each of the exam rooms. Most of them seemed untouched.
The second to last one gave you pause before you even got to it. The door was flung open, and black streaks were coming out of the doorway. Even on your best day, you wouldn't have been able to venture a guess as to what would case something like that.
“Bob?” You wished your voice wasn't so shaky.
Then you heard it. Footsteps. Slow and heavy. You stopped walking, holding your breath as you tried to gear up for whatever was about to happen. There was no more trying to predict the next move now—you just had to take them as they came.
The relief you felt when Bob stepped out of the exam room was indescribable. He looked like hell, his hair all a mess and tears on his face. If you thought that he'd looked scared before, it was nothing compared to the look in his eyes now. But it was him. He was alive. That was better than you had been preparing yourself for.
You didn’t even bother trying to stop the sob in your throat as you quickly went to collapse the distance between the two of you. “Thank god you're alright,” you said, managing a smile through the tears.
The deer-in-headlights look on his face intensified tenfold as you reached out for him. He held his hands up, palms facing you like he was surrendering. “Wait, wait don't—”
You'd hardly started to process what he was saying, or the fact that his hands and wrists were now an inky black color as you went to take his hands in yours. He tried to pull back away from you, but he wasn't fast enough. Your next kind words died halfway up your throat as your fingers brushed against his. Suddenly you were gone, and Bob was all alone once more.
He dropped to his knees just outside the room he'd been stuck in. Holding his hands out in front of him, he stared at his palms through his tears. Clenching his fists, he felt his fingernails bite into the meat of his palms. It didn't do anything to him, though, not like what it had done to everyone else, not like what it had done to you.
He stared at the shadow left behind where you had once stood. Reaching out, he pressed his fingertips to it, not knowing what he expected it to do. When nothing happened, he figured that it was fitting. That was about what he deserved.
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Invisible Silver Linings (4/7)
Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x F!Reader
Series Warnings: 18+, Thunderbolts* spoilers, language, angst, mentions of scars, mentions of self-harm/suicidal ideations
Summary: You signed on to become part of a study when you realized that you didn't have anything left to lose. What harm could it really do? How much worse could it really get? ... You didn't expect to get answers to those questions. You also didn't expect to meet Bob. You'd end up thankful for at least one of those things.
Chapter Index
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: just a little moment between bob and reader. i love them. love making them suffer together. emotional intimacy etcetc
Time passed, although you weren't sure how much. Doctors would come by and drop off food to you. They avoided any questions that you asked them by simply replying to each of them with, “Are you saying that you'd like to leave the trial?” It was an effective tactic in getting you to shut up. You paced and paced, wondering what was happening on the other side of the wall. You wondered what happened to everyone else that they'd taken. You wondered what happened to Bob.
Sleep was getting harder to come by. Even when they shut the lights off completely, you felt so out of sorts that sometimes you simply just laid awake staring up at the ceiling. You'd feel sweat dripping down the side of your forehead or down your back depending on how you were laying. Other times, lights on or not, you'd sit on your bed with your back against the wall, tapping your head against the metal in a rhythm to try and help you calm down and ground yourself. Sometimes it worked. Other times you just ended up with a welt on your head.
It was pitch black, and you were on replay number five of your tapping beat when you finally heard another voice. You stopped, thinking for a moment that maybe it'd all gotten to you. Maybe you'd snapped and now you were hearing things. Maybe that first time you'd fallen unconscious in the chair they had dosed you with something and they’d just been observing you this whole time looking for changes and side effects.
But no. There was no way it was that. Sure you might be losing it a little bit, but the voice you were hearing definitely wasn't living inside your head. You shut your eyes even though you couldn't see anything in the intense darkness regardless. Closing them tight, you tried to focus on the voice. It was quiet, muffled, but very much real.
Turning your head, you pressed your ear to the wall you'd been leaning against. Palms flat against the cool metal, you tried to piece apart what words were being said. Then you realized why it sounded familiar. Not because it was something from your own mind, but because you had heard that exact whisper not so long ago.
You tapped on the wall. “Bob?” you said, a little more than a whisper, a little less than your actual talking voice. When you got nothing in return but continued muttering, you tapped the wall again but harder. You tried your normal talking voice, hoping that it wasn’t going to make some doctor come in and haul you away. “Bob? Is that you?”
The muttering stopped. You were holding your breath as you waited for some kind of acknowledgment. A tap came from the other side of the wall. “Hello?”
You sighed in relief at the sound of his voice, worried as it was. “Oh my god, it is you.” You flattened your hands against the wall like he could press his palms to yours. “Hey.”
Up until that moment, no one had ever said your name with such relief before. You wondered if he was pressing his forehead and hands to the wall the same way that you were as he said it. “Are you okay?” he asked.
You laughed. “Going a little crazy, but other than that I'm fine.” You paused. “How are you?”
“What're they doing to us?”
You scoffed. “I have no idea. I feel like I've been sitting in here doing a whole lot of nothing since that first round of tests. Have…have they done anything else to you?”
“They asked me a lot of questions, but, uh, I don't…I don't remember any of them. I wonder if I…” he trailed off, clearly afraid to end the sentence with his real thoughts.
“I don't remember them either, if that's comforting at all,” you offered, not having anything better in the ways of reassurance.
“What is this place?” he asked.
“I don't know,” you answered, trying to pick apart details of your room in the darkness. “I never thought I'd miss my shitty old apartment, but right now I kind of am. Least my apartment had windows.”
He let out a quiet chuckle at that. “Yeah, a window would be nice.”
It grew quiet between you after that. And while normally silence wouldn't bother you, you now no longer had the luxury of being able to see him. Without conversation, you couldn’t be sure that he was still on the other side of the wall. You'd thought that you knew what being alone was, but the loneliness that you had been drowning in before was nearly preferable to this kind of solitude. At least your loneliness on the outside came with a clock and a calendar.
“Bob?”
“Yeah?”
You were glad he couldn’t see you. “I don't know that you're there if we’re not talking.”
“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “What, uh, what do you want to talk about?”
It hit you right then that you hadn't had to try and make friends in a long time. And maybe you and Bob wouldn't end up being friends. But right now you were all each other had. “Um, I don’t know. What,” you picked at your blanket, “what do you wanna do when we get out of here?”
It was quiet for a moment and then you heard him humming while he thought. You wondered if he was just doing that for you sake so you'd know that he was still there. “I just wanna do something good. Something worthwhile I guess. Never really figured out how to do that.” He paused. “It'd be nice to help people, I think.”
You smiled. “Yeah, it would be.”
“What about you?”
The laugh you let out sounded more bitter than you meant for it to. It was a fair question, especially since you'd asked him first. But truthfully you weren't really sure what was left for you back out there. It'd beat being in here, but beyond that, you weren't sure if you had any purpose or aspirations left. That's how you ended up in this position in the first place.
“Not sure. I, um, I was going back to school for art before I ended up here.”
“Art?”
“Yeah, you know,” you got back into your previous position of sitting with your back against the wall, “paintings and shit. Collages—mixed media stuff.”
There was a long pause and even when he started to speak, it was clear to you that he hadn't figured out the entire sentence by the time he began saying it. “That's cool. I like art. How'd you go from art school, to, uh…um…” he trailed off and you found yourself staring down at your wrists in the dark. No doubt he was staring at his own picturing the scars on yours.
If there was anyone that you could be honest with, you supposed it was him. For all you knew, he was going to be the last person to ever get to say they knew you. “My roommate, who lived in the shitty apartment with me, she was my best friend. One of my only friends, really. She was going to school to be a teacher, and I was going back to school for art. We were both working shitty waiter jobs to pay for our shitty apartment, but it was still a good time, you know?” You cleared your throat, feeling yourself starting to get choked up. “But, uh, she got in a car accident one night. She was just, god, she was just trying to catch a ride home from work. And she usually walked! She always walked. But it was raining and it was payday so she just figured…”
His voice was soft, barely audible through the wall. “I'm sorry.”
You sniffled. “Yeah, me too. But, yeah. After that, it sorta just felt like…”
“Like what's the point,” he filled in the blank for you.
“Yeah.” You sighed. “So, you know, not really sure what my plan is after all this. Hadn't thought that far ahead.”
There was a beat of silence before he said, “I bet you make really cool art.”
It got you to laugh despite the tears on your face. You wiped them away with your sleeve. “Yeah, I do alright.” Tapping your head against the wall again, you said, “I'm glad I met you in here.”
“Me too.” He tapped in the same rhythm from the other side. “I'm glad you're on the other side of the wall.”
For a few minutes it was quiet save for the tapping. However the doctors were watching the two of you now, because there was no way that they weren't watching, you wondered what they thought of it. Were you two supposed to figure out you were next to each other? Or when the lights came back on was one of you going to get yanked out of your room and thrown into another one farther away? You could only imagine what notes they were taking on the two of you.
His voice dropped. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“If you hear me talking like that again, can you…can you wake me up?”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Something about promising that felt strange, but you owed him at least that much. Besides, your current circumstances probably put you in the safest position to do so. There was no chance of him getting to you while there was a wall between you. “O-okay. Yeah, sure.”
“Hopefully they can fix it.”
“Fix what?”
“The part of my brain that makes me get like that.”
Your heart sank. He sounded so sad. “I hope so too.”
“You think we should sleep?”
You sighed. “Probably.”
“Okay. Goodnight.”
You smiled—for all either of you knew it was two in the afternoon outside the four walls you were stuck in. “Night.”
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Invisible Silver Linings (3/7)
Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x F!Reader
Series Warnings: 18+, Thunderbolts* spoilers, language, angst, mentions of scars, mentions of self-harm/suicidal ideations
Summary: You signed on to become part of a study when you realized that you didn't have anything left to lose. What harm could it really do? How much worse could it really get? ... You didn't expect to get answers to those questions. You also didn't expect to meet Bob. You'd end up thankful for at least one of those things.
Chapter Index
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N: sometimes sketchy labs are an ideal setting. not for the characters but for the writers and readers lmao. hope you enjoy!
The lights weren’t even cranked all the way back up yet when you were woken up next. Instead of Bob grabbing you by the arm, it was some strange guy in a white lab coat instead. His arm hooked underneath yours, leveraging to start picking you up off the ground without bothering to try and properly wake you up first. You thrashed, tried to jerk away while you were still in your sleepy haze and not quite aware of what was happening.
You were already dragged halfway to your feet when everything came into focus and your brain caught up with what was going on. When all the pieces clicked into place, you stopped fighting quite so hard, but you still weren't happy about how they were handling it. The place hadn't ever been hospitality central, but still.
There was a snarky comment on the tip of your tongue right up until you saw that they were hauling Bob to his feet too. Fear was layered on top of the exhaustion on his face as he flailed around not unlike how you had been just a few moments before. Someone else in a matching lab coat had a hold on one of his arms, but as he continued to twist and pull against them, a third person started approaching to restrain him further.
“Bob, hey,” you said in a loud whisper, trying to get his attention but not add to the scene that was unraveling during precious sleeping hours. “Hey!”
He stopped fighting, stopped moving completely. Turning to look in the direction of your voice, some of the tension in his body went away when he found you standing there staring at him. It wasn't the type of situation where a smile was necessarily appropriate, but you tried to have a reassuring look on your face as the two of you continued to stare at each other. It worked—they didn't try to restrain him from both sides.
“We're up,” you said quietly, nodding with more certainty than you had any right to. It wasn't as though you truly had idea about what was coming next, but whatever it was surely must beat sitting in the world’s most liminal waiting room.
“We're up?” he parroted back. There was no chance of him hiding whatever he was feeling, not with eyes like that. His confusion was visible, palpable.
Nodding, you said, “Yeah. And you didn’t even have to wait that long. So, you know, you're welcome.”
It got a small, weak smile out of him. “Thanks.”
You saw that he was about to say something else, but before he could, the two of you were being shoved through the room towards the exit doors. Bob was in front of you, and every few steps, when he wasn't looking down at his feet trying to make sure he wasn't going to step on anyone, he was trying to look back over his shoulder at you. One day, when the two of you got out and were done with this mess, you'd have to get around to asking him how he ended up in a place like this.
If. If the two of you got out.
You hadn't given too much thought to what the other side of the doors was going to look like, but it was a little bit of a letdown anyway. With all the secrecy and strangeness happening, you had been hoping for more than just a blank, concrete hallway. Still no windows. Peering around Bob, you could see that at the end of the hallway, it teed off in two directions. There was no signage, and you supposed that was on purpose. Need to know basis and you apparently weren't the ones that needed to know.
As you approached the end of the hall, the man holding onto your arm pulled you off to the side, and it was then that you realized that you and Bob were being split up. At least for now, but if you were being realistic it was probably for good. As far as final interactions went, you supposed you could've had a far worse send-off than meeting him. One of the last faces you saw being a kind one was something to be thankful for.
Bob didn't seem like the type who needed assistance in thinking scary thoughts, so you kept your feelings of finality to yourself. As they were getting ready to push you in your opposite directions, you called out to him, “See you on the other side!”
He looked sad and hopeful all at once. “See you on the other side.”
At first you were just being poked and prodded. Blood samples taken. Hair samples taken. They threw you on a scale and then sent you through machines that scanned you for things that you couldn’t even try to take a guess at. It was the first time anyone had asked you any real questions about yourself, your medical history and things like that. The types of questions you thought they should've asked you before whisking you away off the street and setting you up here, but you weren’t a scientist nor were you a doctor, so who were you to judge?
They tossed you on a treadmill for a little while. Then they had you do some other fitness and strength-related tests that had you feeling like you were back in high school all over again. Only instead of classmates watching you and mocking you, they were just a bunch of men and women in white coats with glasses and clipboards taking notes on you. None of their expressions gave anything away. They didn’t seem pleased, but they also didn’t seem disappointed. You were just pissed that they were having you work up a sweat in the one pair of standard issue scrubs/pajamas/uniform that they gave everybody.
One test after another. You had no idea how long any of it was really taking you. As you were ushered from one station to the next, you wanted to ask the people working there if the lack of windows and clocks ever fucked with their heads the way that it seemed to be doing with yours. Maybe it was on purpose. They were probably allowed to have watches or phones so they didn’t completely lose touch with reality.
You also found it strange that you didn’t seem to come across anyone else. They'd separated you and Bob, so you hadn't been expecting to see him. But they had taken so many other people even just in the short time that you had been there. The fact that you saw no trace of any of them was getting more and more worrisome the more that time went on.
At one point they brought you into a room that was completely empty with the exception of a large medical chair in the middle, with a small desk and rolling chair tucked off the to the side that had a computer on top of it. Hanging off the headrest of the chair was a mesh helmet that had too many cords coming off of it for you to count. It took no time at all to figure out where you would be sitting, and where the scientist who walked in with you would be sitting.
She gestured to the chair. “Have a seat.”
You chuckled. “Like I’ve got a choice, right?”
“You're welcome to leave the trial at any time,” she said, her voice neutral in a way that you knew was rehearsed. They all probably had scripts that they had to follow.
“Yeah? I tell you I want out, you'll just guide me back through the rat maze and pop me back out onto the street?”
She tilted her head, hugging her clipboard closer to her chest. “Do you want out?”
A nice way of answering your question that didn’t do anything to answer your question. “No.”
She nodded. “Have a seat.”
There was nothing else to do but exactly what you'd been told. She got the mesh helmet on your head and reclined the seat until you were laying almost completely flat. You watched as the woman went over to the computer and started clacking away on the keyboard. It was too far away for you to see what she was doing, but you could feel the light pulsating sensation from the mesh wrapped around your head.
She spun around in her rolling chair so that she was facing you. Clipboard resting in her lap, she said, “I'm going to have you close your eyes while I ask you a few questions.”
“About?”
“We're tracking levels of brain activity in regards to different topics and scenarios.”
“Morality test,” you said knowingly. A bit presumptuous on your part, maybe, but it was the only thing that really made sense. They'd tested your physical wellness, now they were going to test your psyche.
She shook her head. “We're learning a baseline for each test subject at the start. We'll revisit as time goes on to document any shifts.”
You had already established that you weren't going to leave, so you settled back into the chair and did as you were told. Closing your eyes, you folded your hands over your stomach and waited for the first question. It was hard to think about anything but the electric thrumming that was encapsulating your skull, but once you had something else to think about, you were sure it was going to become more manageable.
The next thing you knew you were waking up on a cot in a small room by yourself.
The thrumming that you last remembered had been replaced by a throbbing sensation that managed to radiate into every nook and cranny of your brain. Shutting your eyes again, you pressed your fingertips against your temples and tried to massage the pain away. The sensation went too deep for it to be effective, so instead you opened up your eyes and tried to get a better look at the room you were in.
Comparing it to a jail cell would've been dramatic. But it wasn't quite as nice as a hospital room. At least there was a real bathroom, not just a toilet tossed into a random corner. You were still completely walled off from everyone and everything else, though. The door was made of the same steel-like material that the other walls of your room were. Just like the waiting area, there wasn't much in your room other than your bed. There was a small shelf that had a couple books on it, but that was all.
Aside from the headache that was worse than any hangover you could remember, you felt physically fine. A little tired, a little sore from all the physical tests they'd had you do. But you didn’t feel any sort of way that would have you thinking they shot you up with something after you passed out. You wondered if that was on purpose. Or maybe you'd failed part of the test that you didn’t remember taking and now they put you here because they weren't going to release you.
All that and you still had no fucking clue what time it was. How long had you been unconscious? How many days had gone by throughout this whole mess?
No good was going to come from sitting and staring at the thin, scratchy blanket that was covering your legs. Forcing yourself to stand up, you started to pace around your room. You just wanted to know what time it was, what day it was. It was funny, really, because it wasn't as though you had anything pressing to return to. It was the principle of it, though. You wondered what other tests were going to come next. When were they going to start giving you whatever drugs they promised would make life seem more worth living?
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a girl whose love language is physical touch is also a girl who hates people touching her
Bob giving up control of his life to the physical embodiment of his depression and then beating himself up over it and the void just becoming more powerful as a result is such a perfect metaphor. like yeah, that's exactly how it is, you can't beat depression with self-loathing, you need support and purpose and the people you love and loves you. they pulled it off beautifully
LET GO — ROBERT REYNOLDS
✦ bob reynolds x reader, 1.5k
✦ cw: thunderbolts* spoilers, implied that they all live in the avengers tower, reader is an avenger/thunderbolt, bob has nightmares of past trauma, hurt/comfort
✦ summary: bob always avoided you, and you had no idea why — till the night you help him out of a frenzy.
Bob was a strange guy.
You knew little about him, only as much as Bucky had told you. You’d been told all about his strange powers as The Void, how his dark side had taken a hold of him that day in New York. You’d seen the footage. You knew how scary he could become.
Yet, you couldn’t believe it.
You couldn’t believe that someone like Bob, who sometimes didn’t know left from right, with his soft eyes and softer yet smiles, was capable of something like that.
Trying to get to know him was frustrating. You’d been pursuing him ever since you moved into the tower, and it was almost like trying to catch water between your hands. He somehow managed to slip away every time you tried to make conversation, pinkened cheeks and spools of excuses dangling out his mouth.
If he wasn’t busy doing whatever else needed his attention, then it felt as though he was being held at gunpoint to talk to you – curt replies and eyes darting all over, muscles twitching like he physically had to get out of there. He was evasive. Annoying. Exhausting.
You didn’t know why, and couldn’t figure it out. Couldn’t figure him out. It was starting to get on your nerves, then, because why were you chasing after someone who didn’t want to be known? It was time to give up. If Bob wasn’t going to make an effort to talk, neither were you.
“Every time!” you grumble, begrudgingly nodding in thanks as Bucky hands you a mug of coffee. You take a sip of the bitter liquid, letting it wash over your tongue. “Every single time I try to talk to him, he avoids me like the plague. I’m starting to think he hates me.”
Bucky sighs, reaching across the table to pat your hand consolingly. “Maybe you just need to give him some time.”
“I’ve given him enough.”
“Methinks,” Alexei pipes up from across the room, flopping across the couch like a starfish, “that this is love. Young love, you know? Can never get past the anxie-titty.”
“Anxiety,” Ava corrects. She grabs Bucky’s mug from his hand as she walks by, earning an annoyed grunt as she plops herself down on the other end of the couch. “But honestly, — slurp — I agree. I think Bob just has a little crush.”
You roll your eyes, frustration growing by the second. “Yeah, of course. Bob definitely has a crush on me.”
Bucky snorts. “Exactly!” Alexei nods, lighting up as the sarcasm flies right over his head. “You got it. This girl is smart, I tell you. Very smart, quick learner.”
“And you’re the exact opposite,” Ava deadpans.
She smirks as Alexei’s face scrunches up in confusion, Bucky coughing in an attempt to keep a straight face. You crack a smile.
You groan and push your face further into your pillow. The heat that night was sweltering, almost suffocating, and the air conditioning had gone off again — Walker and his inability to remember to pay the bills.
You felt everything acutely; rough blanket on your skin, sweat between your toes, hot breath on your upper lip. It was overwhelming.
“This,” you grumble, rolling over and shrugging your blanket off, “must’ve been why his wife left him. Asshole.” You rub your eyes and sit up, deciding that you might as well try the couch. More ventilation out there.
Your blanket trails behind you like a cape as you open the door. Faint pieces of moonlight scatter across the floor, lighting up the hallway. It was just enough for you to walk your way to the living room.
You pause at the sight of a silhouette on the couch, a quiet huff escaping you. It seemed like you weren’t the only one with this idea.
As you move closer, it’s strikingly obvious who the culprit was — messy curls, Spongebob blanket, arms wrapped around himself. Bob.
You bite your tongue. You’re about to feel annoyed, about to let that anger wash over you again. Avoiding you wasn’t enough, he had to steal your one chance at proper sleep too?
Then you hear it.
His labored breathing, incoherent mumbles. You frown, unconsciously softening as you inch closer.
“Please,” he whimpers. You swallow. His hands twitch around his torso, and you get the strange urge to hold them. His eyes are squeezed so tight you wonder if it hurts. “Please don’t… don’t yell at me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
You watch helplessly as he repeats the apology again and again. His face is contorted in some kind of anguish, muscles tense with fear. You think you can hear the sound of your heart breaking.
You reach out, hesitating before you place your hand on his shoulder and give a little shake. “Bob?”
“No!” he cries out hoarsely as he flinches away. You retract immediately, startled. “No, don’t hurt me… don’t hurt me.” His hands fly up to shield his face, fingers trembling where they cover his eyes. “I didn’t do it, I swear. Please, don’t hurt me.”
A pang of sadness twists in your chest. You knew what it felt like, to be haunted by what you’ve done, every one of you did. Nightmares of people you’ve killed, people you couldn’t save. They kept you awake at night.
But to experience something being done to you, someone hurting you all over again, was another hell entirely.
You straighten up. You had to try harder.
Your hands find Bob’s shoulders again, this time attempting to pull him up into a sitting position. He shrieks weakly, he trashes against your hold, but you don’t let go. You can’t.
His nails dig into your skin. “Stop! Stop, you’re hurting me. Let go of me.” You shake your head, tugging his blanket off with one hand as you hold him up with the other.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Bob. And I’m not letting go,” you murmur. “You’re okay, it’s just a nightmare. Wake up.”
“Let go,” he says again, weaker. His grip on your wrists slackens as he heaves. “Let go of me.”
“No. I’m not letting go.” You swallow. “I’m here, and I’m not letting go of you. You need to wake up. You’re safe here.”
All it takes is another hard jolt.
His eyes fly open, flaahing in panic before they lock on you. “I — what —“
You pull away. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry. You’re okay. You just had a nightmare.”
His breathing doesn’t slow, and you realise that it’s not you he’s afraid of, it’s himself. You soften. “Hey, Bob. Bob. Come on, look at me.”
His fear-filled eyes find yours, eyebrows furrowed like he’s trying to find a reason not to run away. You gently take his wrist and place his palm on your chest. “I need you to breathe, okay? Breathe with me.”
You take an exaggerated breath, exhaling through your lips. You see the mental struggle, the internal battle of deciding whether or not he can trust you.
He stares at you for a moment. Then, he starts to follow along.
Relieved, you continue. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Till the shakiness is gone, wheezes turning into breaths. Till he’s calmed down.
You squeeze his wrist for good measure. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” he exhales quietly, dropping his hand from your chest. His body relaxes the slightest bit. “Yeah, sorry.”
You shake your head, lips curving upwards. “No need to apologise. I’m glad you’re okay.” You move to sit next to him, knees bumping against the other’s.
He swallows and looks down at his hands, cheeks turning their usual shade of pink. Thank god.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, though,” he says, voice coloured with sheepishness. He scratches his neck, refusing to look at you. “Must’ve been… weird.”
You huff out a quiet laugh, placing your hand on his knee. He lets out an embarrassed squeak. “Bob, seriously. It was just a nightmare, it happens.” You rub his knee reassuringly, tone fond. “Nothing shameful or weird about it, okay?”
It takes a second, but he nods. He dares to make eye contact with you, head tilting upwards like a shy puppy. “Um, yeah,” he mumbles. “Yeah, okay.”
Now you understand what Alexei and Ava were on about.
“Do you think you’re gonna be able to go back to sleep?” you ask kindly, fingers continuing their ministrations on his knee. “Or do you wanna talk for a bit?”
He doesn’t move his leg away. You watch as he draws his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows knitting together as he ponders almost adorably.
“Talk?” he says unsurely after a beat, turning to you. “I mean, if that’s okay. If not, then —“
“It’s okay,” you say, half amused, half comforting. “Completely okay.”
And that’s when you get to know Bob. He was finally making an effort to talk, and so were you.
“I told you!” you hear Alexei whisper scandalously the next morning, at the sight of your hand in Bob’s lap and his head on your shoulder. “I was right, he has a crush. And she is crushing too, little rascal.”
You pretend you didn’t hear, and hope no one notices your smile.
misunderstanding
s.m: you and bob were inseparable. until he begins to ignore you and you have no clue why. when you’re injured after a mission gone wrong you’re finally able to find out why.
robert ‘bob’ reynolds x avengers!gn!reader
w.c: 2k
c.w: hurt/comfort, bob being avoidant (but he means well), two idiots in love, hea, reader implied to be an og avenger, no use of y/n, thunderbolts spoilers obv. not proofread and intentionally lower case.
a.n: as soon as i finished the thunderbolts i wrote this LOL. im already working on like three more for him
After you had all saved the city and had been established as the new avengers you and bob had been inseparable. you had chucked it up to you just seeming the friendliest out of all of them but the looks the rest of the team all exchanged with one another anytime the two of you were around told you they thought otherwise.
you watched movies with him, went to go get milkshakes together, helped him with the chores around the base, there wasn't really a second the two of you weren't together unless you were out on a mission or sleeping.
yet as a recent theres been a shift. hes been avoiding you. its so obvious to not only you but everyone else in the team, he was more than happy to chat with yelena ava alexei hell he’d even rather talk to walker than he’d rather talk to you. the only person also seemingly receiving the cold shoulder from bob was bucky who shrugged when you asked him if he had any clue what was going on.
whenever you would walk into the room and smile at him he stared at you wide eyed before rushing out the room mumbling to himself before you could say anything to him. you tried not to let your heart break show on your face as you watched him flee the room as you had entered. you had been so determined to get him to talk to you today after over a week of nothing from him but watching him run away from you killed any sort of motivation you once had.
the pout only grows on your face as you feel yelena pat your back in pity. “i dont know what i did wrong.” shes quiet for a moment before she speaks, “dont worry im sure he’ll get over this weird phase and you’ll get back to normal in no time.” you look down at your feet and sigh, maybe she was right. you knew he struggled with his mental health maybe he just needed space yet the idea of that being it just made you feel worse. he had always confided in you, told things he wouldnt even tell the therapist he started seeing. it made you feel trust worthy, like the two of you had a bond stronger than words could describe. you like him, you like him so much your heart feels like its about to burst out of your chest at the thought of him.
it was later that same night. you could see the light peering out from under his door. he was up, but when you knocked on his door you were only greeted with silence. “bob?” silence. you sigh before pressing your head up against the door. “i just wanted to say goodbye, were leaving for the mission, me and bucky.” you can hear some shuffling inside at your words, you almost let yourself hope he’s about to come to the door but after a few more beats he still doesn’t respond.
“i miss you bob.” the words spill out before you’re able to stop them, “im sorry, for whatever ive done im so sorry, i just want use to go back to the way we were. i miss you so much, i hope we can talk once i’m back. goodbye.” you force yourself away from the door as the tears begin to pour down your face you don't even bother to glance back at the door as you exit the hallway and down to the area where bucky is waiting for you. he doesn't comment on your tear stricken face, simply just placing hand on your shoulder and asking if your ready to go. with a quick nod you join him on the ship and your off. you silently thank him for it.
what you don’t know is bob is curled up in a ball in his bed, pressing his face tightly against the stuffed bear you had bought him as a gift as he tried to silence his own sobs. it was for the better, he told himself over and over again. you didn't need him, not when you had him, you were better off without him as much as it made his heart ache.
five days. it had been five days since you had left and bob felt like he was losing his mind. he didnt leave his room, laying and rotting in his bed hoping the universe would just swallow him up. it took yelena and walker finally coming into his room to force him out of bed much to his dismay. he couldnt stomach to eat anything, shaking his head and hanging it down like a child clinging his stuffed bear to his chest while they tried. he knew it was a pathetic display but he couldnt find it in himself to care.
the rest of the team stares at him in pity, unsure of what to say. they all knew what he was going through, the only one oblivious to it was you, as walker finally sighed and opened his mouth to speak they all froze at the sound of the doors slamming open. “can somebody call a doctor?” bucky called out and everyone turned to see him enter the room. you were held in buckys arms, all beaten up covered in blood. bobs head spins, he doesnt hear the sounds of everyone asking what happened he doesnt see ava running off to get medic all he sees if you and he faints.
the mission was supposed to be easy. it was easy, until the last guy standing ended up being a mutant neither of you were prepared for. you ended up taking the bigger hit and bucky quickly finished the job rushing to take you back to the tower. your injuries were not life threatening but you lost a lot of energy in the fight and had ended up knocked out for a couple days. when you regain consciousness the first thing you hear is his voice. bob. he’s talking with someone whos voice you an barely make out, based on the brass and tone you assume its bucky. you cant make out what he’s saying but you cant bring yourself to open your eyes just yet.
footsteps ensue with a couple final words exchanged before the gentle opening and closing of the door and suddenly you’re alone with him. you can hear the scrapping of a chair and suddenly his very warm body heat flows next to you, you can feel his hands playing with the blanket as he sniffs. “please wake up.” you still cant open your eyes, maybe you’re still too tired but a part of you thinks you simply want to hear what he’s going to say.
“im- im so stupid. im so so so so stupid. all ive been dreaming about is seeing you again,” you feel him place his head on your stomach and you try to keep your heart and breathing at a regular pace, “i wanna sit on the couch together and watch movies and drink milkshakes and talk about anything with you i miss you please i was so stupid please just wake up so i can hear your voice again.” your chest aches and you fight the frown growing on your face. you open your eyes, realizing his has his face turned away from you. when you go to speak he manages to beat you to it. “i was so jealous.”
his words have you almost gasping before quickly closing your eyes again realizing he was turning his head to look at you. your mind running a mile a minute, you had no clue what he was talking about but his words had you hopeful, you couldnt help but be eager for whatever he was about to say. “he’s so much cooler than me. i get why you must like him, i just,, i just wish i could be the one you like. the one you think is cool but i know im not worthy of that.” what? you almost find the word spilling out from your lips but you manage to stop yourself. “i just couldnt do it anymore, after i saw you guys in the kitchen, you were smiling at him, i couldnt make that ache in my chest go away like you taught me and whenever i saw you it just go worse so i ran away like a coward. im such a loser.”
it finally clicks. you remember.
it was late at night. you had stepped out of your room to get a glass of water. when you got to the kitchen bucky was also there drinking a glass of whiskey, the two of you chatted for a moment and when you opened up the dishwasher to get a glass you busted out laughing at the sight of his metal arm in the dishwasher. “what the hell is that doing in there?” “what how do you think i clean the damn thing?” ‘not in the dishwasher! you’re so stupid bucky.” he walks towards you and leans down to be face to face with you, “thats why you like me doll.” you grin and hit him on the chest, shaking your head. “shut up.”
you opened your eyes once more and realize he had pushed his face to be pressing against your stomach. slightly shaking as he sobbed lightly into the fabric. your heart ached, realizing how sad he must have been. how lonely he must have felt. he freezes when you put your hand on his hair lightly running your fingers through it. “i dont like bucky.” your words are course, its clear your throat is yearning for some sort of hydration but you dont care. his head flys up and he looks at you with his wide wet eyes. your name tumbles from his trembling lips but you still continue to speak. “ive known him for a long time, he’s called me that for forever, he was just joking around with me i dont like him i promise.” he continues to stare at you in shock, his mouth opening and closing like a fish before he clenches his jaw and looks down at the floor, mumbling to himself, “im so stupid.”
as much as it hurts you force yourself to sit up and touch his shoulder. he looks up at you, a much sadder expression having taken over his face. “i love you bob.” his breath hitches, “i love you so much it kills me.” you wait for him to say something back, anything in return but he simply stares. you wait for him, you’re so patience with him he just can’t help himself.
you yelp in surprise when he suddenly laches onto you and you fall back with him ontop of you. you ignore how much your body burns in pain as he shoves his head in your neck. “i love you i love you so much.” you feel so much relief your eyes burn with tears. you can hear him mumbling over and over again that he loves you and it feels unreal, like youre dreaming and youll wake up soon.
“bob look at me.” he reluctantly pulls away from you and stares at you with heart eyes, your hands gently cup his face before pressing your lips against his. he eagerly but sloppily returns it, clearly inexperienced but you cant even find yourself caring as you can feel him brightly smile against you all other thoughts float away from you.
hours later when bucky comes back to check on you a smile falls on his lips as he sees bob laying on top of you and the two of you asleep peacefully, both of you unknowingly smiling in your sleep. he shakes his head before walking away. he pulls out his phone and clicks a couple things before raising it to his ear as he walks down the hall. “you own me 50 sam i told you they would get together.”
honey
s.m: after being off the grid for a while you return to society and meet up with your old friend bucky barnes. unexpectedly you run into someone you never thought you would see again. your high school boyfriend robert reynolds.
robert ‘bob’ reynolds x fem!reader
w.c: 4.8k
c.w: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of drugs/drug addictions, reader (zero is your hero name) is apart of sam’s team with gravity related powers, bff bucky, you’re exes, the new avengers are chismosas, walker is an asshole, dialogue heavy, not proofread sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes!
a.n: i cried like six times writing this i love bob so much my chest hurts might make a part two but im not sure yet
"bucky are you fucking with me?”
you stare blankly at the tower you had thought was abandoned when you and the rest of the team basically disbanded but the new A sign and the construction trucks littered around the area and tower told you otherwise.
“shut up come on up you’re already cleared for entry.”
you couldn’t believe this was happening. the mission you were recently placed on just so happened to leave you disconnected from society for a few months. bucky, your long time friend, was the first person you were interested in seeing and he agreed. when he sent you his location you merely thought he was pranking you but as you walk inside the building and hit the familiar button to the top of the tower it dawns on you he’s really not joking around.
when the elevator door opens he’s waiting there for you putting away his phone and smiling at you. “look who it is huh” you grin, the sight of your friend warming your heart, you rush towards him and throw your arms around him happily, burying your head in his neck. “i missed you jackass.” “yeah yeah missed you too.”
what you dont notice is the four people all at the bar looking at the scene in what could only be described as horror. “what is happening?” yelena whispers to ava who only shrugs unable to take her eyes off of the strange display.
when you pull away and the two of you begin to exchange a few words the group notices walkers eyes widen in horror upon seeing you and he attempts to push himself out of your line of sight. before any of them could question him the seemingly peaceful conversation between you and bucky turns hostile as you punch him across the face.
“you’re gonna tell me what the hell is going on right now!” alexei ava and yelena all exchange a look before they continue to eat the popcorn they had been snacking on and watching the two of you silently.
“what the hell is this? new avengers? what the fuck are you talking about? and where the hell is sam?” bucky glares at you as he cups his cheek, “can you just listen to me?” you throw your hands up and walk past him standing in the middle of the space not even noticing the group of people as you keep your gaze on bucky. “once you start making sense i’ll listen! god forbid i leave for a couple months and suddenly you’ve join some newly formed avengers team without! sam! who even are these people anyway...” you turn away from him and face the bar without even knowing youd be face to face with the majority of the team.
you scan each of their face one by one as your confusion grows until you land on him. your face drops into a blank stare as walker forces a smile on his face, “zero! hi! so good to see you.”
you say nothing as your head slowly turns towards bucky whos face had already twisted into a grimace knowing what you were going to say. they watch as your hand goes up and buckys body flies towards you, your hands wrapping around his neck. “james bucky barnes you will tell me what the hell is going on, right now!”
the four of them can only stare speechless as the two of you talk over one another, the anger twisted all over your face as bucky attempts to defend himself in strangled breaths. none of them could believe the sight in front of them other than walker who seemed like he had expected this to happen. you had seemed familiar to yelena and now that she saw your powers it had clicked. code name zero, you had been working for the old avengers behind the scenes and was now an associate of the new captain america sam wilson after the two of you became good friends.
if the file she had once read on you was right you could manipulate gravity at your will, a truly dangerous ability. none of them decide to help him simply watching the two of you argue.
“whats going on?” yelena turns to the soft sound of bobs voice who looks concerned as he slowly made his was towards the bar looking back and forth between everyone confused. bob tended to hide up in his room some days but the noise must have drawn his attention to the point he felt the need to come down and see.
all four of them shrug and the now five of them watch as you verbally berate bucky. finally growing tired of him you toss his down and kick him ignoring the groan he lets out you turn to the group hoping you could get some answers from one of them but when your eyes land on the newest addition to the group your expression drops to something unrecognizable.
bob grows uncomfortable under your stare and grips his hands together in front of his as you tilt your head and stare at him.
“robert? bob… reynolds?”
“um,,, yes?”
he fiddles with his fingers as you say nothing for a few moments. the look at your face laced with shock and something he can’t recognize but a small ache grows in his chest for some reason.
“holy shit.”
all eyes turn to bob as he awkwardly fidgets in his place. nobody says anything for a good while until bucky groans as he stands up looking at you. “you know him?”
he asks the question everyone was eager to know you turn your head slightly to look back at him, your voice a lot softer than it had been before. “we um, we were friends, in middle school high school you know,” you turn back to him, realizing he clearly has no memory of you you try to mask how much it hurt. for him to look at you like a stranger. you force a smile on your face as you shake your head.
“it was a long time ago, i dont blame you if you don’t remember.” you watch his face twist as he clearly tries to remember something, anything about you but he turns up blank, “sorry..” its the only thing he can force out but you wave your hand brushing him off. “dont worry about it seriously.”
you let your gaze linger on him for a little bit longer before you turn your back to him and force yourself to talk to bucky once more. he’s changed so much but he hasn’t changed at all. you hadn’t forgotten about him even after all these years have passed, it was almost jarring to see the man you spent so many years with not even seem to remember your name should make you angry but you knew him, you knew bob.
he was never really in the right mental state, with the stuff hes been through and the path he had been down you dont blame him for not remembering. hell if you were him you wouldn’t want to remember that time either but it still stung in a way you didn’t know could sting.
bucky decided to drag you off to a room where the two of you could talk thing out alone, bob doesn’t know why he cant take his eyes off of you as you walk away and why it bothers him so much. as soon as the two of you are our of ear shot everyone turns to bob.
he has no clue how to answer their questions and they quickly grow bored once they realize he truly has no memory of you. as the rest of them engross himself in another conversation about who you were bob finds himself lost in thought. you clearly knew him but it was odd you seemed to think positively of him. you didn’t look at him with disgust your gaze was something more like, fond? no it couldn’t be, nobody would look at him like that.
ill always love you honey
the voice rings in his head and he flinches as his hands gripping the bar table tightly. yelena looks at him concerned but he puts a smile on his face and she looks away hesitantly. what was that? the voice had brought him an odd sense of peace it was almost eerie. his head started to hurt as he tried to think about it, the soft pounding that would hit is body whenever someone asked about his childhood or his past. the life he’s tried to forget, he grimaces as he chugs down the glass of water yelena had given him. he wouldnt think about it anymore no matter how much it was bothering him, maybe it was better forgotten.
an hour passed as the rest of the new avengers made conversation about random nonsense until the sound of a door slamming turned all their heads towards the sight of you with a furious look on your face as bucky trailed behind you. “i just can’t believe you barnes.” “you think i wanted this?”
ignoring bucky you look at all of them with an apologetic look and bow your head. “sorry you all had to see me like that, i promise im a lot nicer than that usually.” bucky scowls like he wants to disagree but one look from you closes his mouth and he looks away. you introduce yourself and everyone but bob replies in turns back at you.
you walk towards the bar and reach over, bob isnt listening to what anyone is saying he can’t seem to take his eyes off you, he watch as you pour yourself a drink, your mouth moving to converse with the other members, a light smile graces your face as you continue to foster your drink. his head hurts. “you should do it to walker next.” the man in question glares daggers at ava who smiles and shrugs back at him. “dont tempt me.” “hey!” you laugh and his chest starts to ache even more.
when you turn your head lightly to look at him he freezes, there's something so familiar about you, he finds himself subconsciously leaning towards you like he was freezing cold and you were a warm fireplace. when you lightly smile at him before turning away he feels his whole world stop. a sudden flash pops up in his head and its you, much younger than you are now grinning at him ear to ear and he flinches, closing his eyes as he tries to push the memory away subconsciously. so he really did know you back then. his memories from his time that long ago were spotty at best, he could remember some things but they were all blurry.
he finally tunes back into the conversation when it turns to him, more specifically you and him. “you have to tell us the story between you two.” yelena wags her finger back and forth between you and bob, a mischievous look on her face as the other agree. you shake your head frantically as you shrug, “i mean whats there to say…”
“oh come on he doesnt know anything you have to tell us everything.” you turn to look at bob expecting him to tell them to stop, he probably doesn’t want them knowing about his past but the look of anticipation on his face tells you what you needed to know. you sigh and try to think about how to word this without letting them know the real dynamic of your relationship.
“well we met during middle school, kept in contact after he had dropped out of highschool. he was always getting himself into some shit and i had to bail him out.” your tone lightens up as you fondly remember your youth, “whenever he was out too late and didnt come home i was so pissed i thought i was gonna have to walk down to the station.”
“home? you guys lived together?” you barely even noticed you let that slip out, quickly covering your wide eyes with a sip of your drink and a wave of your hand. “you know his home life wasnt the best so,,, you know he just stayed with me thats all.” you tried your best to make it sound as casual as possible but it was painfully obvious that wasnt the case.
bob couldnt wrap his head around this. he had no one during his youth or atleast he thought he did but why did your words seem so right to him. a couple more flashes appered in his mind. a warm quiet home, cozy to the point he was uncomfortable to be in there alone but he wasnt really alone was he? there was always someone by his side, sitting on the couch with him standing in the kitchen with him. something in the house standing out to him.
“the tapestry.” all eyes dart to bob who had been silent this whole time, your eyes widen in shock at his words. “it was so ugly.” your shocked face twists into mock anger as you cross your arms the smile on your face and the joy in your tone unable to hide how happy you were. “can you stop saying that? i worked really hard on that thing.” “it was so ugly..” “really? after all this time you still think its ugly,,,” you look at the confused group of heros and sigh, “when i first started to crochet i made a tapestry to hang on my wall in my apartment but this jackass always thought it was so ugly. i still have it you know.” “you should throw it out.”
he doesn’t know why he cant help but tease you, he doesn’t tease anyone but it seems like second nature. the affectionate look you have on your face as you fake glare at him fills his heart with a strange sensation.
“holy shit.” your face drops at walkers voice and you turn to glare at him. “you were his girlfriend werent you.”
your stomach plummets. everyone turns to look at you expecting you to outright deny it but when you are stuck frozen in shock staring at walker he starts to laugh. “no fucking way, you were his little girlfriend.”
he turns away, laughing like it was the funniest thing on earth as you stare daggers into his back. “shut the fuck up walker.” your tone has lost all the previous joy it once had as you stare at him with disgust.
as the group explodes in chaos bobs head spins, he can barely compose himself before you lean down towards him and whisper, “im sorry honey.”
honey. the nickname unlocks memories he had buried so deep down he had forgotten them.
he met you during 7th grade. you were desk mates, the overly friendly cheery girl who didn’t seem bothered by his lack of responses to your questions and shy demeanor. you sat with him during lunch, shared your notes with him, played with him during recess. you slowly became his whole world.
you ended up asking him to be your boyfriend in 8th grade at your middle school graduation and you started dating. when he dropped out of high school and left home had no clue what he was gonna do but you took him in, living alone in an apartment with your uncle who was never home made it easy enough for bob to move in with you. while you were at school he did things you didn’t like to think about but he always tried to be home by the time you go back from your after school job.
he was so happy. throughout his shitty life you were the only constant and good thing he had, he loved you so much he always cheered up when he saw you.
some particular memories stand out to him, one of them was when the two of you were at home. you were both 17. you had moved out of your uncles and bob came with you. it was a sunday your only true day off, his head was laying in your lap clearly he was on something but you didn’t seem you to mind.
you played with his hair and you read a book, his eyes were mindless on the tv show you had thrown on neither of you were paying attention to it. his eyes trailed off the tv and onto the wall. you had many different knickknacks and trinkets postered up on your walls. awards you won during school, gifts people gave you. but one thing caught his eyes and he grimaced.
“what is that?” you look down at him, following his line of sight towards your wall. “which thing honey?” he points to the tapestry you have hung on your wall. it was white, it looked like someone was in the middle but he couldn’t make it out. “its a tapestry.” “its ugly,” you punch him in the stomach and he groans, “i made that jackass.” he laughs as you wack him again, “sorry sorry its just wow that thing is hideous.” you huff in disbelief and cross your arms. “i worked really hard on it thank you very much.” “what even is that thing in the middle? a rat?” “its a flower you asshole.”
you throw your book to the side as you punch him and the two of you soon befall into a fit of laughter as he apologizes over and over and you keep on lightly hitting him. soon enough the two of you stop to caught your breaths. you lean your head to look at him and his heart swells at the pure affection in your gaze, he knows hes looking at you the exact same way. “i love you.” only after your bring your lips down to his and cup his face his heart calms down enough for him to be able to reply that he loves you too.
the next memory is the day before he had left you a few years later. he had been in jail for god knows what for the hundredth time. he always knows its you who bailed him out and he’s thankful for it. but as he’s walking out to see you the guard escorting him, it was a small town, you all knew each other, he had grown used to seeing this particular officer at the station but that day he had said something that bothered him. “shes such a smart girl. such a bright future ahead of her. such a shame shes stuck with you holding her down.”
it bothers him. it bothers him so much because its true. he cant even bring himself to smile or hug you back as you throw yourself to his arms. when you pull alway and cup his face concerned he tells you he’s fine and walks past you. its so clear you’re trying your best to cheer him up like you always did but he was so set in his plan not even you buying his favorite take out or cuddling him in bed could help.
it was later that night. the house was completely dark and quiet. the only sound he can hear is your soft breathing as you sleep and the whirling of the fan above you. he couldnt sleep, staring up at the ceiling, allowing himself to revel in your warmth one last time.
a few hours pass before he lets himself slip out of your arms. he gathers some things i had around your room and attempts to slip out but he freezes when he hears you groan. “honey what are you doing?” “just getting some water.” you hum and settle back down to sleep as he sighs in relief. right as he’s about to close the door he can hear you mumble loud enough for him to hear. “ill always love you honey.” he stands frozen. he almost just gives up, dropping all his shit and turning around and laying in bed with you without a care in the world. he cant. he knows he cant it would kill him. “i love you too.” he whispers to the air. you would never hear him say that as he closes the door and never turns back.
he leaves you a note, telling you hes leaving and not to look for him. by the time you wake up for college he’ll hopefully already be out of the state. he places the box he had made of all the stuff you got him on the coffee table in your living room taping the note ontop of it. he takes one long final glance around the room he would never see again as his heart breaks. memories run through his mind of every second you shared together, this is for the best he knows it is but it hurts. it hurts so much.
tears run down his face as he forces himself with the clothes on his back and the small stack of cash he gained from odd jobs you helped him get. it felt wrong to take any of the stuff you had given him, he didn’t deserve any of it he didn’t deserve you. he didn’t know where he was going just that he was going somewhere, somewhere far far away from you.
he could never stop thinking about you no matter how much time had passed. he cried so much he could barely do anything else. so he decided to forget. force himself to lock up the memories of you and the best years of his life, the only good memories he had forced away so he could try to do something else anything else with his life other than missing you.
“bob?” yelena leans in towards him concerned. he has no clue how much time has passed. you’re too busy yelling at walker as bucky holds you back. ava and alexei too entertained to notice him but yelena did. you turn back to look at him at the sound of his name and your eyes widen, throwing walker against the wall you rush towards him, ignoring the way walker groans and curses at you as you bend down to eye level with him. bob had tears streaming down his face, violently shaking, “i left you im sorry im sorry.” your face falls into a pout as you look at him, unable to say anything simply staring at him.
yelena stands up with one clap of her hands shes rushing everyone out the room. “everyone out lets go.“ “no i want to watch them.” nope everyone out.” it takes a minute but she quickly rushes everyone out of the room sparing you a smile before she closes the door leaving you alone with him. you silently thank her in your mind before turning you attention towards bob.
he covered his face with his hands as he sobbed into his palms. “bob?” he wouldn’t respond, too lost in his emotions so you sigh. standing up you grip his forearms and tug at them. “come on honey.” he atleast follows you this time, allowing him to pull you to sit on the floor with him, still not looking at you.
“i looked for you.” he twitches but doesn’t dare look up. “i spent the next week running around the city looking for you at every corner. i was so scared j was gonna find you laying on the ground in some alley way.” your words seems to make his crying worse as he cant stop mumbling over and over again how sorry he was. “even after that i spent so long looking for you in every person i came across. it was second nature to glance around the street to see if i would see you, hell i dont know if i ever even stopped doing that.”
“i couldnt be the one to ruin your life.” he finally allows himself to whisper the thing he’s always thought. you would have never been able to achieve what you have if he stayed by your side. he only would have dragged you down, you probably would still be living in that old run down apartment building in florida if he had stayed. your face falls and you look down at the ground, tears pooling up in your eyes. “bob.”
“you are so amazing, everyday i was in awe of you, i was the thing setting you back. i had to go but it hurt you im sorry.” you reach over and grip his forearm, you can feel him shaking under your grip and the tears begin to spill down your face. “im happy you left.“
he looks up at you alarmed. as if you had said the craziest thing ever but you looked beyond him to the window outside. “you were miserable.”
“no i was so happy with you-“ “but you were so unhappy with your life!” he flinches as you raise your voice, you quietly apologize and fix your volume before you speak again, you shouldn’t let your emotions take over you like that. “i could tell, every single day you were just so miserable, it made me so sad to think about when i went to school or work you were just sitting at home alone doing nothing but getting high or you were getting yelled at at some part time job. you deserved so much better, you think i was being dragged down by you i was the one dragging you down.”
he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. you had thought you were keeping him down? that was ridiculous. he was the one who was going to ruin your life. when he opened his mouth to stop you you continued to speak over him. “i would have been so content just staying in that stupid city in that stupid apartment with you because i would have been with you. if you stayed i probably would have graduated from that community college and get some job at some office there to support us but you never would have been happy. you deserved more than that. to go out there to go see the world leave that city you were stuck in.”
the grip you must have on his arm would kill another man but neither of you notice lost in your own world, “if you leaving me got you here im so happy you did. look at you, you’re a hero honey, just like you always wanted to be. “
he has nothing to say. his body still shaking, as more silent tears run down his face. he cant believe you had thought like this, your words feel unreal to him. he doesnt even know what emotion he’s feeling.
“im sorry.” its the only words he can force out of his mouth. his stomach pulled in knots as forces himself to look down at the floor. you know maybe it wasn’t the best decision to dump all that on him but you couldnt help it, the thoughts you had been thinking for over a decade finally spilling from your lips. you sit in silence for awhile. you know its not good to leave it off there.
“you know what the best apology you can give me is?” when your voice unintentionally cracks he weakly looks up at you, “if you can tell me you’re happy now, without the need to stick some needle in your arm or shoot some powder up your nose you’d make me so happy.”
he sniffs a bit, finally seemingly calmed down and nods. “theyre nice to me, um im happy. i haven’t even thought about that stuff in awhile, it feels so nice. im so happy.” you choke back the sob that builds in your throat, “then thats more than enough for me.” he places his hand on top of yours and the two of you just sit and smile at each other for a bit.
“hey you wanna go eat? theres this place i really like around here havent been in ages, you can even bring your friends ill call over some of mine too.” his smile grows larger than ever and happily nods.
you dont know what the future will hold for either of you, unexpectedly running into the man you could never forget was certain to stir up some feelings in you, but for now you were so happy to see him so happy.
@mo-mode you. 👏 are. 👏 a. 👏 GENIUS. 👏 NO WONDER WE WERE ALL GETTING THOSE OG WATTPAD/TUMBLR UGH I LOVE IT~
xerox ; robert reynolds ; part one.
pairing ; robert (bob) reynolds x reader, thunderbolts & reader
synopsis ; you had one last job before you were free. no more splitting, no more deaths. unfortunately, that job seemed to rope in four other assassins and a... a man in hospital-wear?
words ; 7.8k
themes ; action, angst, slowburn, the beginnings of romance
warnings / includes ; violence/gore/death, human experimentation, reader has the ability to split into multiple bodies (think dupli-kate from invincible), foul language, walker is an asshole, everyone's mental health sucks!
a/n ; this is part one !!! a second part is already in the works :) this was written all today so apologies if there are any mistakes!
main masterlist. read on ao3!
It didn’t seem a hard task. One kill. One more. Then you could go. Quit the clean-up business for good. You could practically hear Valentina’s sickly sweet smile through the phone.
“You’ll be in and out of there in no time,” her voice crooned. “And I wouldn’t worry too much about your target. After all, you’re rather… disposable, aren’t you?”
You frowned at that. “My self-copies aren’t disposable. I feel it every time one of me dies.”
Valentina laughed—a high-pitched keening noise. You assumed she was waving her hand about in a dismissive manner, as she usually did with you. “You’ll get back up. That’s kind of your thing, isn’t it? Good luck. Try to have some fun. It’ll be your last one, anyway—make the most of it.”
“Yeah,” you said. Your free hand wound around your midriff, almost as if you were cradling yourself. “I’ll take care of it.”
You hung up before you could hear Valentina say one more word.
There were ringing gunshots, muffled grunts, and resounding thuds when you arrived. Who else was here? Your target was only one person—an untouchable woman. A Ghost. Would a thousand of you be able to tackle one of her?
Or perhaps the better question was… were you willing to sacrifice yourself a thousand times to kill one woman? You definitely have before, on previous missions. Over and over again, the bitter taste of death was stuffed into your mouth, dry as a sock, tainting your innards like black tar.
You waited outside the junk room’s entrance, counting the voices you heard. One man, for sure. One unidentifiable. Two women. You split yourself into two, then three. With a begrudging sigh, you spliced once more to make four.
Three copies ran in. One stayed out.
You spotted the ghost immediately. She was phasing between the shield of another masked assassin. Were they also here to kill her? Another copy spotted a woman being pinned down by another man, a blade inches away from her throat. Not your mission, not your problem.
Though, it certainly became your problem when the woman croaked, “There you are!” upon seeing you. “Holy shit, there’s three of you.”
She bucked the man off after tasing him, scrambling towards her gun. A click, a point, a shot. Your copy dove behind a pile of sturdy cases, but clearly not fast enough. You felt the bullet pierce your chest, the warmth of the blood pool across your ribs—and then you were dead.
“Fuck,” you winced, feeling the resounding ache of the gunshot in your own body, eyeing your dead self. Without a second thought, you split once more. Your copies scattered from your assailant, off to find the ghost.
You tackled your white-masked target as soon as she materialized once more, managing to get only one powerful strike in before you fell to the ground, the ghost phasing away and disappearing once more. Then your head pierced with the terrible, agonizing pain of a bullet fracturing your skull, and you were dead. Again. And again, and again. Impaled by a shield, stabbed by the ghost.
You gasped from outside the room, crumpling to your knees. How many more times were you willing to die? How many times could you?
Then there came a nauseous, gagging sound from inside the room. For a moment, you wondered if one of your copies had miraculously survived and was making that sound. You split yourself and crawled inside. Maybe you could save yourself. Spotting you coming in, the man with the shield seemed to realize there was one of you waiting outside. He sent the shield—already covered with your blood—arcing outside and striking you clean across the throat before you could react. Your decapitated head hit the metal floors with a disgusting, bloody noise, lolling to the foot of the entrance.
That left one copy inside the room. You gasped for breath, air painfully dragging within your esophogas as you clutched at your neck, the veins beneath your skin popping. For safety, you duplicated yourself once more.
“Woah,” came a voice beside you. There was a man in… hospital clothes? You scrambled away from him. He watched you with an open mouth, blinking in a manner not unsimilar to an owl.
One of the assassins was dead already, bullet wound in the head, not unsimilar to one of your deaths here. You could see your own bodies scattered about, in varying states of mutilation. The three assassins left were all pointing their guns at each other, then you and your copy, then to the man gagging next to you.
“Which one of you is the real you?” said the blonde woman.
“I’m all me,” the both of you said at the same time.
She shuddered. “Well, that’s not creepy at all.”
The man on the ground made a disoriented noise, as if realizing that he really shouldn’t be in a room full of people with guns trying to kill each other. “Actually, I—” He struggled to his feet, then turned to run. Thick metal shutters fell down over all the entrances before he could leave. It crushed your decapitated head as if it were a grape, your blood splattering all over you, your copy, and the hospital-man.
Shit. If you were still outside, you could have gotten away.
The assassins all trained their guns at the man, spooked by his skittish movements.
“No, no!” he exclaimed, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m—I’m Bob.”
It didn’t look like he had any place to hide weapons. Still, just to be safe, you split yourself again, now three of you. The faux Captain America flinched. “Fuck!”
“Who?” said the ghost, eyes trained on Bob.
“Bob,” said Bob, shrugging.
“Who sent you, Bob?” asked the blonde woman.
“Nobody, why would I be sent?” he said, hands trembling. He was afraid. “You were all… you guys were all sent?”
His question went largely ignored. The woman’s eyes, lined with hazy blue makeup, darted to you. “You—how am I meant to kill you if you can’t die?”
You raised your hands in surrender now, mimicking Bob. “I can die. It’s the one thing I’m really good at.”
Something flickered in her gaze. She lowered her gun just slightly. “Who sent you?”
The ghost rolled her eyes and lowered her gun. “I’m not sure what’s happening here, but my job is done.” She gestured to the dead assassin on the ground and stepped forward to go.
One of your copies blocked her way. “My job isn’t.”
She scoffed, then phased straight through you. You felt a cold chill traverse down your spine.
“Neither is mine,” said the blonde woman, turning the barrel of her gun to you.
“Don’t waste your time,” you snarled. “I have infinite lives. You have finite bullets—do the math.”
The man with the shield tilted his head at the woman. “Convenient cover for someone stealing weapons from O.X.E.”
“I’m not stealing, Copy-Cat here is ste—” She paused, and realization came over her bloodied face. Then, she raised her hands in the same way you did. “Okay. It’s clear we have all worked for Valentina in some sort of shadow ops capacity.”
“Yeah, so?” said the man.
“So all of this shit is O.X.E’s secrets. And so are we.” She gestured to the mountainous stacks of boxes and crates.
You felt your heart sink to your stomach. You should’ve known Valentina would pull something like this with you. It should’ve been suspicious how easily she accepted your request to leave. How could you be so stupid? So naive?
“We’re liabilities no one would miss,” said Ghost.
The man scoffed. “Speak for yourself. I was sent here on a mission.”
“Look around!” said the blonde. “We are the evidence, and this is the shredder! She wants us gone.”
The three began to bicker over who was in the right. From their argument, you learned that the man with the shield was John Walker, officially Captain America for about three seconds before he had murdered a man in public. And the blonde woman—tasked with the impossible mission of eliminating you—was Yelena. Former Red Room assassin.
Bob began to shuffle closer to you, and you tensed.
“Hey—” he said, reaching out a hand to help you up. “Are you okay? I watched you die, like, fifty times or something.” He fidgeted when you hesitantly accepted his hand, pulling yourself up with his help. Bob took turns smiling at you and your clones, all lopsided. He was so… off-putting. You scrutinized him with a narrowed gaze.
“What are you doing here, Bob? You clearly aren’t… like us.”
“Wh… Why not?”
“You’re in a patient uniform. It’s the kind of shit I always wore as a kid,” you said, beckoning to his pants.
Bob was about to respond, but clammed up when John Walker began stalking closer to the two of you. Subconsciously, Bob edged behind you, almost as if he were using you as a shield. You sure as hell didn’t know who Bob was, or what he was doing here, but he certainly didn’t seem deserving of the piercing glare Walker was sending his way.
“I’m not leaving here without completing my mission,” said the man. “Valentina gave me a clean slate, guaranteed—I’m not screwing that up.”
“And you believe her?” you said in disbelief, almost a whisper. You stepped back, bumping into Bob in the process. He felt strangely solid behind you. “She promised to let me go. A rogue, powered assassin let loose out of the cage. I was stupid for letting myself believe her. And you are, too.”
Walker’s face crumpled with anger. “Listen here, you freak. You multiply like… like bacteria. Obviously Valentina doesn’t trust you. She may be lying to you, but she trusts me. And you—” He rounded on Bob. “You were part of my job, so I gotta know. How’d you get in?”
You shifted so you’d be able to see Bob. He seemed to shift with you slightly, unhappy that you were no longer between him and John. Fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve, Bob shrugged. “I don’t… Pfft. I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
One of Walker’s eyes twitched. “Terrific answer. Great. Well, alright!” He beckoned to you, Yelena, and Ghost. “Tie yourselves up. I’m sure there’s rope in here somewhere.”
“Wow,” said Ghost—Ava, you remembered reading her name from your mission casefile. “No.”
“Hey,” whispered Bob, tugging on one of your copy’s utility belts. “I just realized I don’t—I don’t know your name.”
“Now’s probably not the time for niceties,” you said. After staring at him for a moment longer, you sighed. It was pitiful how lost he looked. “I’m known as Xerox.”
“Xerox—that’s a… that’s a cool name. Way better than Bob.”
To your surprise, you found yourself giving him a small twitch of a smile. “Bob’s a palindrome. Same backwards as it is forwards. That earns it at least half a point on the cool scale.”
Bob paused, regarding you with an equally twitchy, uncertain grin. “I never thought about it that way. Yeah, that’s… thanks.” He let out a nervous laugh that was obviously forced—and yet still somehow endearing.
As you spoke with Bob, Ghost walked on ahead, intent on leaving. She phased out of tangibility, so you knew there was no way you could stop her even if you tried. You watched her go passively—you no longer cared if you failed your mission. It was clear it wasn’t a real mission, anyway. You were glad that Yelena had come to the same conclusion. She didn’t seem intent on wasting any more bullets in your copies’ skulls.
When Ghost drew within an inch from the door, a piercing sound echoed throughout the chambers. You and your copies keeled over in pain. The noise made violent shudders ripple through your body. It reminded you of all those times you had to be strapped down when you were a child before you could control your powers, riding out your seizures with a belt across your mouth to muffle your screaming.
You could feel shaking hands drift to cover your ears for you. Bob’s. Your head snapped up, meeting his worried gaze.
Eventually the noise subsided, and his touch fell away.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, eyeing him cautiously. What did he want from you?
“You were hurting,” was all he said in response, tone hesitant and soft, as if worried he’d done something wrong.
You felt your face soften and you let out a weak exhale, suddenly feeling as if your heart was going to fall out of your chest. Why was he making you so flustered?
The five of you were left sitting around for the next ten minutes. Walker and Ava took to raiding the dead assassin, Taskmaster’s body. Yelena didn’t seem too happy with that, snapping at them to respect the dead, job or not.
“You knew her?” you quietly asked the blonde as she paced to and fro like a caged tiger, watching as Ava took a gun off the corpse.
“I did,” she said, nodding solemnly. Then, she gestured to your own dead bodies strewn about. “Sorry about—”
“It’s fine. Comes with the job,” you mumbled, voice soft.
Yelena nodded grimly. “You live and you die, right? You more than most, I suppose.”
You blinked at her. Before you could say anything back, a siren blared across the room. The lights turned an angry shade of red that made the blood on your hands look black as tar. You felt your stomach roil.
Ghost looked upward. “It’s not a shredder,” she said. “It’s an incinerator.”
There was a large timer by one of the entrances that started to count down from two minutes. “Two minutes before Valentina’s slate is wiped clean,” said Yelena.
“Don’t know that for sure!” John protested. “Could be for when they come to pick me up.”
You could only barely withhold yourself from driving your fist into the smug look on his face. It did, however, make you feel slightly better that you weren’t the most stupid, delusional one in the room.
“Do you not feel that? The temperature rising dramatically, as if heat were involved?” Ghost pointed up at the gaps in the ceiling, where heat was filtering in, so strong that space warped and wobbled looking through the columns of air.
“Oh, boy, that is no way to go,” said Bob, nervously wringing his hands.
Walker scowled. “Well, how would you like to go, Bob? With a hand around your throat choking the life out of you or a bullet to the head? Either could certainly be arranged!”
“Stop,” you barked. “You really want to spend your last moments alive being a complete asshole?”
The man clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Yelena stepped in before another fight could start. “Listen, Ghost-lady—”
“Ava.”
“Sure, whatever. We need to get you through one of the walls so you can open the door.”
“She tried that already,” said John, eyes rolling up to the pipes on the ceiling.
“I know she did, but we haven’t tried shutting off the sound barrier!”
“If they built a barrier specifically for her,” you said, recalling your casefile. Her weakness was high-frequency sounds that caused interference with her suit’s technology. “The emitter must be in close-range. Somewhere inside the room. Outside would be too weak and dampened to work.”
Immediately, you spliced a few dozen times and scattered, looking for some sort of power source.
“What—what exactly are we looking for?” asked Bob, hurrying alongside one of your copies.
“Not stupid questions, Bob!” John said.
“Ignore him. Look for something with circuitry. Wires, a battery cell, that kind of stuff.” You tore through a few crates, feeling up the nooks and crannies of the walls.
Fifty seconds left on the clock, rapidly ticking down. You were no stranger to dying, but this was strangely a different experience altogether. True, complete death. It sounded like both a blessing and the most terrifying thing possible. You could feel the panic rise up like bile in your throat.
To your relief, Ava found the power source, and John immediately hacked away at it without thinking, orange sparks flying with the power of his strike. You would’ve been angry with his impulsive behavior if it hadn’t worked—Ghost successfully phased through the walls and disappeared.
Twenty seconds.
She was going to come back, right?
Ten.
The furnaces above grew hotter and brighter.
Nine.
One of your copies pushed Bob forward, since he was loitering directly beneath one of them. “Don’t stand under there.”
Five.
One of you caught sight of Yelena shutting her eyes in solemn acceptance.
Four.
You heard Walker curse under his breath.
Three.
You braced yourself. Would death be kind to you this time, despite all of its ugly cruelty before?
Two.
And then—a blaring siren. The slabs of metal began to shirk upwards. The four of you dashed out just as the columns of fire began to spew out.
Bob was slow. You split yourself multiple times to keep shoving him forward. You could feel fire engulf your body, shrieking as the searing flames tore through your suit, into your skin, eating at your flesh, burning you to a crisp.
Some of you escaped, thrown by the explosion. One died instantly with a broken spine. Others clung to the walls, injured but alive.
You watched in horror as many of your selves wailed in agony, dying a slow, agonizing death. You curled up into yourself, a few tears silently rolling down your cheeks. You supposed that was another one of your talents—you were very good at crying quietly.
“Thanks for coming back,” you heard Walker say to Ava.
“I had to use someone. They cut the power to the elevator.”
“Hey,” the ghost said, reaching out a hand to you. You looked up at her, furiously wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, trying your best to ignore the pain. “Come on. Up you get. We need to find a way out of here.”
When she helped you up, she noticed that you were shaking violently. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve never been set on fire before,” you murmured. “Burned alive is a new one to add to the books.” You kneeled down to close the eyes of one of your corpses. You caught sight of Bob on the other side of the room, having just woken up from being knocked unconscious beside Yelena. He was uninjured, to your relief.
“You helped me out,” he said, once you neared him. “Why did… Why did you do that? You died for me—so many times. I’m not…” He fidgeted uncomfortably. You could see the guilt weighing heavy in his eyes. “I’m not worthy enough for that.”
You didn’t know what to say. You were never good with sentimentalities.
To your dismay, John cut you to the chase. “I won’t disagree with you on that,” he told Bob. He stormed forward until he was nearly nose-to-nose with Bob, who cowered away just slightly before straightening himself to his full height. “I’m tired of your bullshit! Tell me how you got in here right goddamn now!”
“I swear I just woke up in this place,” he said, placating, as if he were talking to a spooked mare. “One minute I’m having my blood drawn for this medical study, and the next I’m here. I don’t know what’s happening, I really don’t.”
“Okay, then show me where you woke up!”
Bob hesitated, then pointed into the incinerated room. “In—in there.”
“Where everything’s on fire,” John deadpanned. “That’s real convenient.”
“Walker, relax,” said Yelena.
“You don’t remember anything?” asked Ava. “Bag over your head, a needle in your neck?”
“Chokehold? Nerve pinch?” Walker asked. It was beginning to feel terribly like an interrogation of sorts.
Bob stepped back again. “No, none of those.”
“I think he’s just a civilian,” said Yelena, eyeing Bob carefully.
With an edge to his tone, John hissed, “Okay, well, if he’s a civilian, he knows too much and if he’s an agent he sucks. Either way I say we throw him back into the fire!”
“No,” you said, glaring daggers at the man. “I died multiple times just to get him out. We’re not murdering an innocent man.”
“What do you want, a medal? And we don’t know he’s innocent!” Walker fired back.
Suddenly, Bob started to laugh. It was a wheezy, chuckling noise. You looked at him in surprise.
“You said you’re… Captain America?” he said, smiling incredulously.
John’s countenance grew even stonier than before. “What’s funny about that?”
“It’s just, heh, you’re… you’re an asshole,” Bob said between his peals of laughter.
There was a beat of tense silence. Then John smiled, wolfish. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. In an instant, he was an arm’s length away from you and Bob, grabbing Bob by the throat and shoving him back so hard his back crashed into the wall behind him. You scrambled forward, multiplying twice to place enough hands on Walker’s chestplace to shove him back. Yelena also came to help, physically placing herself between the two men.
“Okay, woah!” said Yelena, shooting a warning glare at John. “We swung our tiny dicks—it was a lot of fun, but we need to have some space now. Walker, you go over there. Bob, come with me.”
You watched the blonde woman whisk Bob off to the side, who followed her with no complaint. When you looked back at John, he was toeing one of your burnt corpses with his boot. He caught you staring at him and stopped.
“Sorry,” he said. Even he knew that crossed a line.
“Force of habit?” you taunted him with a tilt of your head.
John apparently had nothing to say to that. He turned away from you. Then, he began hacking at one of the walls with the shield. “There has to be a way out of here if we go in one direction for long enough, right?”
You shrugged. “Go right ahead. Be my guest.”
After a few more pummels, the solid concrete gave in and revealed metal doors. He pried them open, grunting with exertion, revealing an empty elevator shaft. There were no wires or indented surfaces to climb. Just sheer, smooth metal walls for as far as the eye could see. Likely even further than that. You gulped as you stared up.
“Hey, are you guys done with your therapy session yet?” John snarked to Yelena and Bob.
Yelena, after saying a final few words to Bob, let him go. Bob made his way to you. Whatever it was that Yelena said to him, Bob didn’t seem particularly settled. You decided not to dwell on it for too long.
“So, this is—our way out?”
“Looks like it. No way to climb, though,” you said. You glanced at his head. “You okay? That looked like it hurt.”
Bob glanced at you strangely, not used to others being concerned over his well-being. First Yelena, and now you. “Yeah, I’m fine. Can’t have been as bad as you.”
“It’s no competition,” you said, pursing your lips. Then, to the rest of the group, you asked, “Should we all get in there? Maybe we’ll figure something out once we scope it out.”
All of you crowded into the bottom of the elevator shaft, staring up at the endless void above.
“So… none of us fly? All of us just… punch and shoot?” Yelena asked, looking around.
“Don’t worry,” said Walker. “I got this.”
He pushed you and Ava to make more space for himself, ignoring both of your startled noises. Then, he leaped up. An insane distance for a regular human, and what you assumed was just above average for one pumped with super serum. You watched him disappear into the darkness for all about four seconds. And then you heard screaming as he came back down. Bob tugged you back just in time not to get crushed beneath John crashing back down on his shield.
“You should try that again,” Ava suggested, grinning down at him as he struggled back to his feet with a pained groan.
John looked at you and you clones expectantly. “You can multiply. Why don’t you, I don’t know, make enough copies for us to climb up there?”
“You want me to form a human ladder for you guys?” you asked, horrified.
“Well, yes—”
“My clones have limited range,” you interrupted, voice curt. “We’re a collective mind. If we don’t all stick within a few meters of each other, I get seizures and lose control.”
Walker frowned down his nose at you. “Is it not worth a shot?”
“Not unless you want to risk me spazzing out mid-climb and all of us falling to our deaths,” you retorted. “We need to think of something else.”
Then, Walker turned his gaze to Ava. “Can’t you just phase up there and throw down a rope for us, or something?”
“First of all, someone other than you would have to ask me,” she hissed. You had to admit, you were starting to warm up to her. “Second, I’ve only ever been able to hold it for a minute, and who knows how long it would take to get up there—I’d be crushed under the weight of it before I could phase back.”
“Just a minute?” Walker deadpanned. “What is it with you lab rats and your limitations?”
“Shut up!” both you and Ava exclaimed at the same time.
“I… have an idea,” said Bob, raising a tentative hand.
All of you turned to him expectantly.
Your backs were pressed up together, your legs splayed out onto the metal wall as the group slowly inched upward. For the plan to work, there was only space for one of you, so you reabsorbed your copies into one body again. The rest of the group watched you do it in a mix of muted curiosity and horror. Bob gave you an awkward thumbs up, which made you smile despite the ridiculousness of the entire situation.
A part of you wanted to leave a copy down on the ground in case something happened, but you couldn’t risk having a seizure if you got too far away, and with everyone else on the line, too.
“Ew,” said Yelena. “Which one of you is wet?”
“Sorry,” Bob winced. “I run hot.”
You shifted the arm looped around his, grimacing at the sweat dripping down your own face. “I get it. It’s fucking sweltering in here.”
“Someone’s got a weird, hard butt,” Walker groaned.
“That’s not my butt, that’s my suit,” Ava hissed in return. “Pardon me for the inconvenience—I only spent my entire life in labs, hooked up to machines so I could create this physical cage to keep my material body from disintegrating at all times!”
You heard Yelena let out a bark of a laugh. “You don’t want to start the whole sob story game. I’d win. Enslaved child assassin over here.”
For some reason, John said, “Well, you were just a kid, so—”
“Oh!” said Yelena. “Does that make it better? Gee, I wish someone had told me that earlier! That makes me feel so much better.”
“Not that it’s a competition, but I’ve spent my whole life quite literally dying over and over again,” you said.
“Oh, really?” said Walker. “Sounds like you’re making it a competition.”
You fell silent, not wanting to waste your breath arguing. The group, panting in ragged, short breaths, simultaneously decided to fall silent. You were so high up now that you couldn’t see the bottom of the shaft anymore.
After what felt like eons, Walker finally gasped out, “I see a door!”
“Now what?” Yelena asked.
“Uhm—I guess one of us should… go first…” said Ava from your other side, uncertainty weighing her words.
“No, then the rest of us would immediately fall!” protested Yelena, breath trembling with the strain of holding herself up.
“Shit… sorry guys, I guess I didn’t really think this through,” Bob muttered.
“Genius fuckin’ plan, Bob!” Walker exclaimed.
“Always making things worse,” the man on your right muttered.
Your brows furrowed. “Bob, we’re all the way up here because of you. Come on, we’re so close. I can duplicate and—”
“We can’t risk your additional weight,” Walker barked out. “One slip and we all come tumbling down!”
“Then what do you want to do?” you asked.
“Hand me a baton, I can reach it!” he said.
Immediate protesting ensued. “No way, you’re just going to leave us!” Yelena gritted out.
“We have to hurry, I don’t know how much longer I can keep my bloody boots from slipping!” Ghost said. True to her word, you caught sight of her shoes slowly gravitating downward.
Yelena inched upward. “Spin us around and we’ll—”
“No! Are you crazy?”
Bob shook beside you.
“Bob, are you alright?” you asked, wondering why he was tossing his head from side to side like a dog shaking off excess water.
“Cucumber—cucumber, cucumber!” he said, scrunching up his face.
“What the hell is happening?” Yelena asked.
“Growing up, somebody told me if you have to sneeze, you yell out cucumber to confuse your brain. I have to sneeze, but if I do, I’ll lose control and we’ll—”
“This is insane!” Walker bit out. “I can get us all out of here, I just need to go first!”
“NO!” Ava said. “There must be another way!”
Bob tilted his head back, knocking against yours. “Oh, no,” he said.
“Oh—” You began to panic. “Cucumber! Cucumber, cucumber! Bob!”
Yelena and Ava both began chanting with you. John, his patience worn thin, reached behind and grabbed Yelena’s baton. Then, he jumped out of formation.
You felt yourself falling, your heart dropping to the balls of your feet in sheer horror, trying your best to grip onto the slippery metal walls. In your panic, you duplicated yourself in an attempt to slow down your descent. Just above you, Ava punctured the walls with her dagger, braking to a halt.
Then, to your shock, you were abruptly smacked against the wall when Ava grabbed hold of your wrist. But only one of you.
“No!” you exclaimed, watching as your copy plummeted downwards with a blood-curdling shriek. After several seconds, you could feel your mind grow hazy, dizzy with the distance. “No, I’m—”
Your pupils rolled into the back of your head and you began to convulse. You didn’t register that Yelena had grabbed a hold of your ankle as she fell, and she sent a grappling hook down to catch Bob.
He tried his best to catch your copy, but you had streaked past so fast that you slipped right through his arms, and fell into the darkness below.
The rest of the group, minus Walker, who had climbed through the opening, watched as you shook about violently. After several agonizing seconds, there was a resounding thud and splattering noise. It seemed a twisted sort of blessing that the fall had killed your copy immediately. You broke free of your seizure but immediately fell into a bout of pain, doubling over. It felt as if you were on fire all over again, and someone had carved you open, poured honey all over your innards, and released a thousand fire-ants to crawl over you.
You were so out of it that you only barely realized Ava was pulling you through the entrance with John’s help. Yelena hauled herself up after that, Bob shortly following her.
The ghost kneeled down beside you, gently tapping your face as you came in and out of consciousness. “Hey. Don’t fall asleep on me.”
With slow, painful movements, you nodded, sitting back up. It took you another moment to realize that the entire group was huddled around you. “Oh, God. I felt my brains spill out down there.”
“What did you go doing that for?” Walker said in an irritating I-told-you-so tone, kneeling down beside you. “I told you not to duplicate yourself, didn’t I?”
“I really don’t think a lecture is needed right now, thank you,” Yelena told him.
“I’m sorry,” said Bob, looking wearing yet another expression of guilt. “I tried catching you, but—”
“Thanks, Bob,” you said, nothing but sincerity in your eyes. “I felt you. Thank you. And thanks for holding onto me, Ava. Even though I tried to kill you.”
The woman averted her gaze, clearly embarrassed. “Yeah, well. Would have been a terrible weight on my consciousness. So really, I did it for my own benefit.”
“Alright,” you said, not believing her in the slightest, but you decided not to comment on it.
With the help of Ava and Yelena, you stood up on your own two feet, albeit a little wobbly, and completely exhausted from the climb up.
“You selfish prick,” Ava spat at Walker. “If you had just waited for one goddamn second—”
“I made a tactical decision to secure my own safety before ensuring all of yours,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Pretty ungrateful, if you ask me.”
Then, something strange happened. Bob placed a hand on John’s shoulder, saying, “Thanks for saving us, Captain.”
Instead of making a snarky comment, John’s face grew dazed. Unfocused. He turned and stepped closer to the elevator shaft, feet just a few inches away from joining your dead clone on the ground.
“Walker?” Yelena asked, wondering what on earth he was doing. Both she and Ava stepped closer to check him out.
You looked to Bob, one of your brows arched. “What’s up with him?”
Bob spared you a cursory glance. “I don’t know,” he said. You chose to believe him, but frowned nonetheless. “Are you okay, though? You were—you were shaking really badly in there.”
“A seizure,” you whispered. “Sorry I scared you guys. I panicked and duplicated. It wasn’t very smart on my end.”
“No, I get it,” he muttered. “The only one you can truly trust is yourself. I get it.”
You tilted your head, regarding him curiously. As much as you thought Bob was a perfectly ordinary civilian, he said some very cryptic things sometimes. “Right… yeah.”
“I know I haven’t given you any reason to, but… you can trust me,” he offered. His hand trembled, and you could read the anxiety plainly across his features. When you took a second too long to respond, he retracted slightly. “But, I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t—”
“I trust you,” you said, cutting him off. You spared him a downturned smile, which made him relax just a smidge. “You haven’t given me any reason not to, Palindrome.”
The mellow blue of his eyes shone with mild amusement. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Is that my nickname now? Palindrome?”
“If you want it to be,” you said, shrugging. “It is a bit catchier than just Bob. The same forwards as it is backwards.”
Bob looked back to John, who still wouldn’t move away from the shaft's sheer drop. “I guess that’s fitting,” he whispered. “Nothing changes even if I want it to.”
Before you could ask him what he meant by that, John finally seemed to snap out of it. He stumbled back from the edge of the shaft.
“Jesus Christ,” Yelena said, completely bewildered. “Are you crazy? What did you do that for?”
“Do what for?” John grouched, waving her away as if she was a fly. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
“Ugh, nevermind, then,” said Ava. “It’s time we all get out of here.”
Once Ava pressed a button for the exit to slide open, light spilled in from outside. But—it was nighttime. You knew because you arrived at 10 PM on the dot, and you also knew for certain that not enough time had passed for the sun already to be rising. The lights were coming from cars. Multiple of them, at least three dozen. There was chatter as well. Boots. Guns. Tactical armor.
It was an entire squadron out there. No doubt sent by Valentina.
Ava, John, and Yelena then started bickering about a plan and who was in charge.
“I think I might just surrender, probably,” said Bob.
“I suppose she won’t hurt you if you’re just a citizen,” you said. “Maybe it’s for the best.”
“Okay, fine,” John said, shrugging. “Every man for themself, then.”
“Why should you be in charge?” snarked Yelena. “You almost killed all of us right there!”
John propped his fists onto his hips. “Well, let’s see—I’ve been in the trenches of every war-torn country there is, rescued God knows how many hostages, and shook the hands of two US presidents!”
“And how, pray tell, does any of that help us in the slightest way?” you hissed.
Walker ignored you. “What else—oh! High school state football champs, back to back to back. Go bears!”
You stared at him incredulously. You never met Steve Rogers, but you wished you had that Captain America rather than this one in front of you right now. You were sure Steve was infinitely more tolerable than Walker.
Yelena rolled her eyes. “Oh, wow. When I was five, I was in a peewee soccer team named the West Chesapeake Valley Thunderbolts, sponsored by Shane’s Tyre Shop. We won zero games, and one time one of my teammates did a poo midfield! Anyone else have any pointless stories to share?”
Exasperated, Ava pointed to herself. “Grew up in a lab prison.”
Bob scratched the back of his neck. “Meth-addicted sign twirling chicken. Was a… summer job.” He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Had my entire skeleton pulled out of my body once. Took me twelve minutes to die,” you said, bouncing on the balls of your feet. The rest of them turned to you, horrified. “What?”
“... Great,” said Yelena. “Now that we’re all done sharing, here’s the plan…”
It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the only one on the table. You and Walker take out the first wave of soldiers coming through, wait for Yelena (and Bob) to turn the lights off and back on once the second wave of soldiers came in with night vision goggles, effectively blinding them, all while Ava went out to find an escape vehicle.
Naturally, Walker didn’t wait. He went barreling into the wave of second soldiers, knocking them all down with his shield and picking them off one by one. You hadn’t even bothered to step in, watching him punch through all of them on his own.
“Thanks for the help,” he spat at you once he was done.
“Didn’t want to get in your way,” you snarked in return. “Now come on. Let’s get their gear on and head out.”
Eventually, Yelena and Bob came back, the former angry that the two of you hadn’t waited for her. John was quick to defend themself, but you merely tossed Yelena and Bob their own sets of tactical wear.
“No time to argue. We can’t keep Ava waiting.”
Walker sneered. “If she’s even waiting for us at all.”
Once everyone was changed, the four of you walked out, dragging Bob as if he were a fallen soldier.
“I don’t think I want to be carried anymore,” Bob groaned, arms stiff and aching from where they were grabbing him.
“Shut up, Bob. You’re injured, remember?” Walker gruffed, which made Bob fall silent.
“Just a little further. Ava should be here somewhere,” came your gritted mutter.
“We don’t know where she is. She could be halfway to Mexico for all we know,” Walker retaliated. Behind your visor, you rolled your eyes.
And then, from the corner of your vision, you spotted Valentina. Pristine as always, sipping a warm cup of coffee. Envy and white hot rage scratched within your chest, but you swallowed down your anger. It took everything you had in you not to storm right up to her, chug down her coffee, and punch a hole straight through her pearly whites. You had a cover to keep up, after all.
Finally, after a few minutes of dragging Bob, a truck pulled up to the four of you. Ava materialized in the driver’s seat. “Get in,” she said.
You smiled. A small part of you really did think she was going to abandon you. You were glad she came back.
Yelena and John clambered into the front while you and Bob sat in the back of the tactical vehicle, where there was nothing inside but two wooden benches for seats. “Will you be okay back there?” Ava asked, and the two of you sent her tired thumbs-ups.
Both you and Bob swayed back and forth as the truck began to purr to life and rumble ahead. “I wonder what they’ll think once they see all my bodies down there. Can’t be a pretty sight,” you whispered.
Bob gave you a sympathetic grimace. “Do you still feel them? After they…?” He motioned vaguely with his hands.
“After they die?” you finished, sucking on the back of your teeth in thought. “I don’t feel them, no. I feel the pain right before they die, though.”
Bob slumped into the truck’s wall across from you. “Sorry,” he said, to which you just shook your head.
“So…” You started, eager to change the subject. “What did Yelena say to you back in the incinerator after your little argument with Walker? You seemed a bit… downcast.”
Bob squinted in thought, trying to jog his memory. “Oh… that. Well, I told her that sometimes I have… really high highs… and then really low lows… and it’s hard to remember things in the middle.”
“Must be a really low low right now, hm?” you said, a laugh lacing your words.
“Hah… yeah. No, I mean… right now I’m fine, I think. Compared to other times, now is… much better.”
“Yikes,” you said, now only half-laughing. “Glad you’re having a relatively good day, then.”
Bob laughed along with you, awkward as ever, then cleared his throat. “Ahem. And then I, uh, to Yelena I said there’s this… darkness… inside me. Never-ending. Like, uhm, I called it a void. Anyways, she said she felt the same way, so I asked her how she dealt with it.”
You motioned for him to keep going, leaning forward. “And?”
“She—she just said she pushes it down. Deep, deep down. Heh. I mean, i-it makes sense, I guess,” Bob said, stumbling over his words a little. “Like, what else is there to do, even?”
Judging from the way your brows knitted together, Bob came to the conclusion that you didn’t seem to think it made much sense. The thought crossed his mind that you looked rather endearing the way your nose wrinkled in thought. You would be a terrible poker player—the cards were written all across your face. Bob liked how easy it was to read you. It made him feel safer to be around you. But these thoughts were quick to wash away when he remembered that you were just—another bump in the road. You would pass, and everything would go back to being… nothing. A void.
“It makes sense for an ex-red room assassin,” you told him, not unkindly, roping him out of his drifting thoughts. “Doesn’t mean you should take the same advice, seeing as you’re not an assassin. Right?”
Bob itched at his wrist. “Right.”
The truck slowed to a grueling halt when a few soldiers stopped the group. Walker, to no one’s surprise and everybody’s dismay, insisted on being the one to talk. They asked for identification and a reason for leaving the base, since the medbay was northside, and they were currently heading southward. Walker tried to bluff his way through, but it was clear that the soldiers were not buying his story.
Bob’s expression twisted as if he had swallowed something sour.
“I’m sorry for this,” he said.
“What?” you asked, watching in confusion as he softly took your hand.
And then, strangely, you were no longer in the truck.
You were in a hospital. The air smelled distinctly of sterilizing chemicals with the sharp twinge of copper—blood. There was a belt in your mouth. Screaming muffled around the stale leather as they hacked away at your leg. Your copy stood off to the side, also bound, but whole. There were tears streaking down both of your faces. You looked younger then—your hair was longer, your face rounder. The years had weathered you.
“Again,” said one of the surgeons. Your younger, whole self trembled, then split into another copy. It took longer back then. An entire minute of straining yourself just for one duplicate. Now, you could make hundreds of yourself in an instant if you wanted. Nurses came in and took the other copy away. Off for more screenings, more tests, more surgeries, more experiments. That’s what you were to them—an experiment.
“Please stop,” you croaked. You weren’t sure whether that came from the younger you or just—you. “Please… I don’t want to die again.”
“Oh, sweetie,” said the surgeon, coming around the dissecting table to push sweaty strands of hair away from your head. “You’re not actually dying, though. Not really. None of these—xeroxes of you are actually you.”
You broke down into silent, heaving sobs when he returned to the other you, and began hacking away more parts of you. “For science,” they’d always told you.
Present-you turned, desperate to leave. Only, you were met with… Bob?
You searched his face, completely dumbfounded. “Palindrome?” you whispered.
“That’s where Xerox comes from?” he asked, clearly perturbed by the scene he was watching. You didn’t spare him a response.
His lips pursed and he reached out to take your hand again. In this strange, hazy world that you knew not to be real, his touch was cold. You rather liked how it felt against the warmth of your own palms, sticky with blood. Was that yours or one of your copies? You couldn’t remember. Was there any difference at all?
You held onto him tighter, shutting your eyes. Bob’s free hand raised to cradle the back of your head, shielding you from your own memories.
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” he murmured. “I’ll fix it. Leave it to me.”
Then, he pulled away from you despite your protests, and the nightmare realm seemed to spin and spin and spin, caving in on itself—
By the time you came to, Ava was shaking your shoulders and calling your name, as you were passed out on the floor of the truck. You glanced around with glassy eyes, confirming what you already knew to be true.
Bob was gone.
OH I LOVEDDDD THIS!!!😆🥹
DEAD END I bob reynolds x OC! reader | CHAPTER 2
summary: after being assigned to monitor bob reynolds’ recovery inside the new avengers tower, you try to keep your fears hidden. but between quiet training sessions and unsettling therapy logs, you start to realize he’s watching you more than he should—and that something inside him never stops whispering.
word count: currently 2.1K words
warnings: abuse by parent, psychological thriller, inaccurately depicted mental illness, emotional manipulation (by void), nightmares, slow burn, possessive themes, combat violence, unreliable realities, hallucinations, left some yearning crumbs for y'all in here since its shorter...
link back to chapter one | chapter three (coming soon)
ANONYMOUS POV
Transcript Log | INTERNAL FILE [REDACTED] Access Level: TOP SECRET Date: [REDACTED] Location: Off-site - Audio Transcript Only
Scientist 1: “Vitals?”
Scientist 2: “Stable. No unexpected rejection so far. Slight fluctuations during REM, but within limits.”
Scientist 1: “Neurological?”
Scientist 2: “That’s where it gets interesting. Her activity spikes in proximity to ▇▇▇▇▇.”
Scientist 1: “And the Void?”
Scientist 2: “We can’t detect it directly. But ▇▇▇▇'s energy readings dropped 17% during yesterday’s session. That’s the first time we’ve seen a suppression event without sedation or one of the New Avengers present.”
Scientist 1: “▇▇▇▇ doesn’t know?”
Scientist 2: “No. She thinks she’s been ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. She was flagged in her old unit. High trauma index, low emotional volatility, adaptable but guarded.”
Scientist 1: “Are you saying ▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇ is working?"
Scientist 2: “There's too many variables here to know for sure, but I would say we're working towards a successful run.”
Scientist 1: “Continue observation. Let's try to introduce physical contact. If ▇▇▇▇▇ starts to escalate, we’ll pull her.”
Scientist 2: “And if he doesn’t?”
Scientist 1: “Then we’ve found the answer to our biggest problem.”
End of File
READER POV
You were barefoot.
The floor beneath your feet was sticky with something—beer, grease, maybe both—and the carpeted hallway stunk of cigarette smoke that had long since stained the drywall yellow. You knew, instantly, this wasn’t your memory, or at least nowhere you had ever been before.
You turned your head slowly.
A battered recliner sat in the living room, worn through at the armrests, facing a television that loudly blasted a wrestling match. The broken blinds cast sunlight across the floor. Outside, you could just barely make out a patch of dying grass.
"Where am I?" you asked yourself, feeling so lucid in this dream.
Down the hall, a door slammed.
"Useless piece of shit!" a man's voice roared from the other side of the house. You froze.
A crash. Glass shattering against the floor.
"You thought I wouldn't find out what you said to your uncle about me? Fucking liar, can't even man up and say it to my face."
Heavy footsteps approached the room you were in. Fear shot up your chest as you held your breath, slowly backing away from the hall before running to the nearest door. A set of steps appeared before you as you yanked the door open, and you ran upstairs to escape whatever was coming in your direction.
An attic.
You creeped quietly inside, looking for somewhere to hide if the footsteps continued to follow. It was a mess up there, filled with boxes and old furniture.
A broken patch in the floorboards appeared itself to you, drawing you to it. You crouched onto the floor and took in the scene underneath.
It was a small bedroom. On the floor, hunched near the edge of a mattress stripped bare, sat a boy. Knees to chest. Head down. Breathing shallow.
You recognized him.
Even this young, even under a mop of sweat-drenched brunette hair, you knew it was Bob. Thin. Shoulders curled inward, ready to disappear.
And across from him, towering in the doorframe, was his father.
Drunk. Flushed red. Breathing hard as he held a folded belt in his grasp.
His hand balled into a fist and slammed the doorframe hard enough to splinter it.
"Look at me, boy! Have you got something wrong with you in the head now?"
Bob didn't move. He didn't even cry, and you felt your heart throbbing in pain at the sight.
You leaned back from the floor as you felt a change in the energy of the attic, your senses screaming in paranoia.
A presence.
Your body swung around and your eyes met with your reflection in a mirror propped up in the corner of the attic. The air around you dropped in temperature, and behind you, stood a proper reason to shudder.
The Void.
He didn’t speak immediately, only stood at your back—close enough that you could feel the shape of him. His voice came low and deep, curling beneath your skin.
"No one came for me then."
You made in a sharp intake breath, unsure of what to do about such a powerful being standing right behind you. The crack of a whipped belt stung your ear from the room below you, causing you to wince at the following sound of younger Bob's cries.
"Why... why am I here?" you whispered, your voice cracking.
"I remember every time I wished I could simply burn this house down to get the peace I wanted. Every moment in this house turned me further into this."
You watch him reach toward you in the mirror, and you shut your eyes in horror, squeezing them in a grimace. But the touch that came was not in aggression, but a gentle grace of your forearm that made the hair stand up in goosebumps. You felt the tingle of his exhale meeting the back of your ear as he bent down to whisper.
"Is it wrong to want you to see it all?"
Your voice trembled. “This isn’t my memory to have, I shouldn't be here.”
"Well you've already seen it now, haven't you?"
You opened your eyes again to watch him. He tilted his head further forward, his gaze sweeping over the outline of your side profile. Refusing to look over, you held your gaze to the mirror, ignoring the sight of his blurred face in your peripheral. Examining you.
"You make it so quiet, I ought to consider you a threat." His hand on your forearm creeped downwards, his finger tips sliding down to the back of your palm. "But I can't help but to feel so intrigued."
You couldn’t breathe now. Your heart beat so loudly, you swore he could hear it hitting the inside of your chest.
"Let me keep you, y/n."
The training room on Sublevel 3 was colder than you remembered.
Bright, clinical lights shone down from above, reflecting off the polished floors. In the center of the mat, Bucky stood with his fists raised, sweat darkening the fabric of his T-shirt. Across from him, chest heaving but posture composed, was Bob.
He hadn’t seen you enter.
Neither had Bucky. But Yelena had.
She sat on the edge of a supply crate, legs crossed, examining the scene in front of her with careful precision. Her eyes flicked to you the moment you stepped inside and she swung her legs over the wooden crate to talk.
"You weren't on the schedule for today," she said, voice low.
“I’m not here officially,” you replied, watching as Bob ducked a punch and countered with a clean elbow to Bucky’s side. “Harding asked me to monitor some responses.”
That was a lie, but you needed to see Bob again. Or rather, you felt a strong, impulsive urge to do so. Especially after the dream.
“Again,” Bucky barked.
Bob nodded once. Then lunged.
The fight seemed brutal to you, all just weight and momentum. Bucky dodged the first blow and swept Bob’s leg, but Bob twisted midair, landing hard and kicking upward in the same motion.
You stepped closer to Yelena, clipboard clutched to your chest more out of reflex than necessity.
"Always with the clipboard, do you carry that around with you 24/7?" Yelena asked sarcastically. You scoffed back a laugh, realizing how nerdy you likely looked at all times. She eased your nerves a bit and you relaxed, letting your shoulders down as you watched the show.
Except, you couldn't help but notice that Bob was holding back. You could feel it.
Each punch he threw stopped just short of full force, like he was afraid of what would happen if he let go. But every time Bucky hit him, especially when it was hard, sharp, or unexpected, you saw it.
His eyes.
Brown. Then gold. Then back again.
A flash. So quick, you might’ve thought you imagined it. But the next time it happened, his hands changed too.
From flesh to something blacker than shadows, a smoke crawled up his wrists. Then, flickering back to normal as if nothing had happened.
Bucky didn’t flinch. He just kept pushing him.
"Does that always happen? It's in the notes, but I've never seen it with my eyes before," you question Yelena.
She shrugs, looking at you curiously. "Usually it's a little crazier than this. I'm getting a bit bored if I'm being honest."
Your reply is interrupted by Bucky's shout, “Focus, Bob. Control it.”
Bob gritted his teeth, catching Bucky’s next blow with a forearm. “I am.”
The room felt like it was vibrating slightly. Just under the surface.
You took another step forward.
"Let m̷̻̑e̸͔̍ ̵̙͋o̸͖̕u̵̡̓t̸̫͛."
The hairs on your arm sparked up again in shock. It wasn’t spoken aloud, but you felt it. Like pressure against your ribs. A whisper from inside someone else’s lungs. Something that had never occurred to you before. You looked to your side, but Yelena didn't seem to have heard the demonic voice that you had.
Bob swung wide and missed.
Bucky came in low and landed a blow to his ribs.
Bob staggered—and his eyes flared gold for just a second too long.
CRACK.
The floor beneath his foot cracked outward like broken glass.
Bucky immediately backed off, hands raised. “Bob—”
Bob doubled over, clutching his head.
“I’m fine,” he growled through his teeth, though his fingers had turned black again, wrists trembling. And simultaneously, a pressure grew in your own chest as he slowly lost control.
Bucky didn’t move.
Yelena stood, walking closer to the center of the room where the boys stood still. You followed closely behind her, ready to assist in any way you could.
"Bob?" Yelena spoke as she stopped in front of his crouched form.
And that was when Bob’s head snapped up, golden eyes searching the room like an animal sensing something off.
Then he saw you.
His posture stilled. His chest heaved once.
All of the blackness in his hands retreated at once.
“Did I lose control again?” he said softly, voice raw. It seemed like a question for the room, but he was staring directly at you. "Why do you make it so... quiet?"
You felt pathetic as your heart dropped as the memory of what the void said to you in the dream. "What?"
Bob straightened up quickly, smoothing the bottom of his shirt.
"Nothing," he exclaimed quickly, walking off to retrieve his water bottle at the corner of their training room.
Yelena looked between the two of you, confusion knitting her brows together. "What the hell was that?"
"Also nothing," you say curtly before spinning on your heel and walking away, noting the event on your clipboard.
The walls of Dr. Harding’s office were too white. The kind of professional warmth that pretended it wasn’t designed to contain people.
The artificial daylight panels made you squint as you sat in the stiff-backed chair across from her desk, hands folded politely in your lap. Your ridiculous clipboard rested beside you, useless for once.
Harding looked up from her tablet, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. “Thank you for coming by on short notice.”
You gave a small nod. “Of course. Is this about yesterday’s training observation?”
“Partly.” She adjusted something on her screen. “I just wanted to check in personally. After all, this assignment came with… heightened expectations.”
That was her way of saying: You aren't meeting them.
“I’ve been logging everything daily,” you said quickly. “Vitals. Verbal behavior. Motor regulation. There’s nothing I haven’t reported.”
Harding smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know. Your notes have been thorough.” She paused, then added, “Surprisingly intuitive, actually.”
You sat up a little straighter.
She tapped her stylus once, then looked at you again. “How have you been sleeping?”
You blinked. “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” she repeated. “Any dreams? Emotional disturbances?”
You hesitated, just a second too long.
Harding noticed.
You cleared your throat. “I really don’t remember most of them.”
She smiled again. “That’s normal, especially under cognitive strain. The stress of being near dangerous people can elevate cortisol, even unconsciously.”
You gave a tight nod. “I’ve managed worse.”
“I’m sure you have.” She leaned forward slightly. “Still, Reynolds is… uniquely sensitive with his emotions. His feelings vary amongst the different staff members. But with you,” She gestured idly. “he seems to have a preference for.”
You looked at her. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Harding hummed. “Mm. That’s what makes it so effective.”
You didn’t know what to say to that. Your hands folded tighter in confusion.
“Have you noticed any… changes in your own behavior since starting the assignment?”
The question was clinical. Neutral. Like she was measuring you against a standard you weren’t aware of.
“No,” you said, but your voice came out flatter than intended.
Dr. Harding didn’t argue though. Just tapped her stylus again.
The silence dragged.
You stood a little too quickly. “If that’s all, I have reports to finish.”
She nodded, but you could feel her eyes following you even as you turned.
“Thank you,” she said politely. “And y/n? Please let me know if your dreams become more memorable to you.”
You sincerely hoped they did not become more memorable than they already were.
hi everyone! a bit of a shorter update that i think is a good segue into the events of chapter three. i wanted to get this one out quickly since i know we're all starving for more bob content... or at least i am.
if you have any requests for bob one-shots, please feel free to let me know! link to my requests is in my pinned post <3
ALSO: if you are not currently on the taglist, please comment down below if you want to be! if you already commented on chapter one, don't worry because i've already added you :)
AHHHH OMG THIS WAS SO SO GOOD!!!😭

