GETTING YOU BACK || J. Daniel Atlas
Summary: You quit being part of the Horsemen. But Atlas is a control freak, and he won't let you go. Or maybe he just doesn't want to.
Warning(s): Push-and-pull relationship. No getting together. Cursing. Second person POV. I don't know, I wrote this in like an hour and a half.
For a year, your life had been almost entirely been consumed by the desire to join The Eye.
From the first time you'd gotten that mysterious card to the night Jack had "died" and the Horsemen had escaped by jumping off a roof, The Eye had been your motivation. Joining the top secret organization had been your one goal. It was the stepping stone to what you'd always wanted.
You - unlike Henley, Merritt, Jack, and Atlas - were not a magician. You didn't do escapism or cool card tricks or anything like that. No, you were no magician.
Sure, The Eye had planned it all out. The day the five of you had found each other in that apartment building, everything had been planned meticulously. They had the magicians to pull it off. But the difficult part was finding someone to help with the set up; the stages, the props, the lights, all of it.
And that's where you came in.
Things had been great. That year with the Horsemen had been one of the best in your life. You didn't regret it one bit.
But things change. And so do people.
J. Daniel Atlas had always been a control freak. You knew that. But after joining The Eye, he was the one who was in charge. He told everyone what to do, getting instructions from The Eye alone. And it couldn't have been more irritating.
So, you'd left. And ever since, you'd been living back in your little apartment. You'd been working as a freelance engineer again, the same thing you'd been doing before the whole ordeal with The Eye. And thankfully, you could do that without issue. Since you weren't one of the Horsemen, you weren't as known as they were. Even with the whole FBI scandal, you had mostly been left out of the spotlight.
You had just gotten done at a local theater, helping with repairing the catwalks above. When you opened the door to your apartment, you expected the familiar sight of your messy apartment. It wasn't messy, per se, but it was. It was organized, you'd say - an organized mess. Nobody could find anything, but you knew where everything was.
Only, you found not only that, but something else, as well. Or rather, someone.
You stared, the door clicking shut behind you. You frowned deeply, narrowing your eyes at the man sprawled out on your couch as if it was his own. "Atlas," you said through gritted teeth, "what the hell do you think you're doing here?"
The man lifted his head, eyebrows raised. "Waiting on you to come back, obviously. You took half an hour longer than I assumed you would. Is the theater that interesting?"
If possible, your frown deepened. "Get out of my apartment," you demanded, dropping your bag down at the floor.
It had been eighteen months. Eighteen months had gone by since escaping the FBI, since Jack had "died," since Atlas had decided he was the one who could communicate with The Eye while you and the others waited around aimlessly. And now he was just appearing back in your apartment like he owned the place? It was a very him move to make, but still one that irritated you. You'd almost forgotten how just the sound of his voice could make your blood pressure rise.
"I will. But you're coming, too," he said calmly. He pushed himself off the couch and stood, stepping around the couch to take a few steps closer. "We have new orders from The Eye."
Now that you could see him better, you took in his appearance. He'd shaved his hair. He was wearing a hoodie rather than his usual layered jackets. Otherwise, not much else about him had changed.
"Good for you. Not my problem anymore. Leave," you told him simply. You shifted your body to move out of the way of the door, motioning to it just so he'd know where he should go.
He shook his head as he walked closer, that all-too-familiar little smirk tugging at his lips. "You can't just walk out on us. We need your help. You're the only one who knows how to do all that..." He motioned with his hand vaugely, "machine stuff."
You shrugged. "Find someone else. I'm not getting involved again, not while you're running the ship like you're the only one who has access to the wheel," you said. You walked past him, patting his shoulder as you did so. "I hate your haircut, by the way. I liked it better longer."
Daniel huffed out a small laugh, his ears tinting red. He turned to follow you into the kitchen. "Great. Then I'll grow it out again if you come back," he offered.
"Seriously, Atlas, leave. Or I'll call the FBI and tell them you're here." You grabbed a bowl from the cabinet, deciding that a bowl of cereal sounded decent enough for dinner. You didn't want to have to make anything, anyway.
"Yeah? And what will you tell them I was here for?" Atlas shot back easily. In a bad mimickry of your voice, he said, "Hi, Daniel Atlas is in my apartment. Why? Oh, he was trying to get me to join him again. Yeah, because I helped them escape you before!" He scoffed and shook his head. "I don't think so. You'll just incriminate yourself, too."
"I hate you, you know that?" you told him, pouring the cereal into the bowl now. The annoying thing was that he was right. Even if you did tell the FBI you'd just recognized his face and he'd broken in for seemingly no reason, there was no telling whether or not the FBI would do a background check on you to see if there was any reason Atlas would break into your apartment in particular. They might find that you'd been working with him and the others, which was the last thing you needed.
"You don't. You really don't." Daniel stepped closer, his chest almost brushing against your back. His breath fanned your ear, and you hate the way it made your breath hitched. "In fact, I think you missed me."
You put down the cereal, glaring down at the bowl. It looked sad without any milk in it, but that was the least of your concerns at the moment.
Because the thing - the very infuriating thing - was that he was right. An annoying part of you had missed him. For as controlling and irritating as he could be, your heart and brain had, for whatever reason, decided it was impossible to forget Atlas. It was like he was a magnet, and he kept drawing her in.
There had always been something between them. A thick tension that they only fueled with their little games of cat and mouse. It was like they kept pouring gasoline but refused to light the match.
"And what exactly are these new orders you've been given?" you asked, gripping the counter tightly.
You couldn't see Daniel, but you felt him shrug. "You ever heard of Walter Mabry?"
"The guy who exposed the Horsemen in New York?"
"Exactly. How'd you like to give him a taste of his own medicine and expose him?"
That made a little spark ignite in your chest. That was what The Eye was all about - exposing those who deserved it and evening the scales of justice. You tapped your fingers against the counter, taking a deep breath. "That's all you're going to tell me right now, isn't it?" you realized with a sigh.
"...fuck, I hate you," you groaned in defeat, hanging your head.
You could practically feel the smugness radiating off of Atlas. It made it hard to decide whether to turn around and punch him or kiss him.
"I thought we've agreed you don't?" he mused. He reached out, gently grabbing your waist and turning you around to face him.
Leaning back against the counter, you glared at him. Your eyes flicked briefly to his lips, then back to his eyes. "The only thing we've ever agreed on is that you're a control freak."
"And that you're coming back."
"But you're still agreeing to come back."
You fell silent, because the last thing you wanted was to agree with him and make the smug look on his face grow. Your eyes roamed his face, and your knuckles turned white as you gripped the counter behind you, your cereal left forgotten. As you stared at him, a thought occurred to you.
"Do the Horsemen really need me?" you asked, tilting your head to the side. "Or is it just you who needs me?"
The smirk on his lips faltered just enough to notice. "Does it matter?" he asked.
You nod, shrugging. "To me."
Daniel didn't answer right away. He looked at you intently, his eyes scanning your face the same way you'd scanned his earlier. He leaned in just enough for you to think he was going to kiss you. His lips were mere inches from your own, and your eyes fluttered closed-
"Guess you'll have to come back to find out."
When you opened your eyes in surprise, nobody was in front of you. The asshole had disappeared.
You exhaled sharply, fighting to keep yourself from smiling (and failing miserably). Maybe you should be a bit more angry for that, but you couldn't find it in yourself to do so. You turned back around to face the counter, and there, sitting in your cereal bowl, was the Ace of Hearts with an address written on it and the words: Welcome back.
Oh, you were so going to slap Atlas when you saw him next...
