-Callum- @morros-undead - Tumblr Blog

Peacemaker/Smith!reader

Potential part one of a Peacemaker series with a Vigilante slow burn ?

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Abuse, homophobia (aka Auggie being Auggie), lots of swearing

April 12th, 2009

Twenty-eight year old Christopher Smith's head shot up from his records, his fingers pausing on his favorite 11th Street Kids vinyl, and slowly reaching up to pull off his headphones. The second he did so, the sound that pulled him from his jovial silence hit him in the gut. The first thing he noticed was the sound of his father, August Smith screaming obscenities and slurs with a fury he'd only ever faced once in his life— the day he killed his brother. The second thing he heard was the thing that worried him the most; outside of his bedroom, he could hear his baby sister screaming and crying, and the distinct crack of skin against skin. His dad was beating his sister.

Chris had never run faster. Sprinting out of his room, he found himself staring in horror at the scene in the living room. His sister was on the ground, shielding her face from her father's blows as he screamed at her, "No child of mine is gonna be a goddamn homosexual! How dare you bring that trash into my house?!”

"Dad!" Chris yelled, crossing the room to his father's side and blocking a particularly harsh blow. All that did was earn him a backhand to the face and a rough shove from his father. His head smacked the ground before he could throw out his elbows to soften the landing, his vision temporarily blurred, and it took him a moment to regain his bearings. He could still hear his sister crying as their father delivered one last verbal blow, "I ever see you with that girl or another ever again, you're both fucking dead. You hear me?" It was only when Auggie heard a broken whimper from his daughter that he stomped off, grabbed his keys, and left their house yelling something about going to a bar.

She looked so broken. So defeated. What in the world could his sweet little sixteen year old baby sister have done to cause their father to reign such hatred down on her. He didn't know if he'd ever seen her cry before. He'd heard it through their shared wall a few times late at night, but never seen it out in the open like this. It hurt even more seeing the blossoming bruise around one of her eyes and dried blood dripping from her nose. His hand hovered inches from her shoulder, unsure of whether or not a comforting hand was what she needed. Instead, he whispered her name in uncertainty. A question that recieved a soft sob in response.

Her gaze finally lifted from the ground, finding his in defeat, "He found out about her, Chris. I didn't know he'd walk in without knocking. He saw us kiss."

He stared at his sister for a long moment, confused— no, beyond confused, "Found out about who?" Another soft sob fell from her lips, a noise that could only be the kind that knocked the wind out of you.

"My girlfriend, Chris."

Oh.

"Your… girlfriend?" He knew he probably looked like a floundering idiot. Wide eyed and mouth agape. He had no clue his sister liked girls— how could she like girls? Whenever they hung out and listened to Motely Crue (one of the few bands they agreed on), she would drone on and on about how hot Tommy Lee and Nikki Sixx were, or she would talk about the fat crush she had on Eric from Boy Meets World, "You're a lesbian? How? You're like in love with Nikki Sixx-"

"I'm bisexual you dumbass." She murmured in defeat, "I like girls too." His heart clenched for a moment as her eyes avoided his like she was afraid he'd react like their father. Chris wasn't like their dad though. Sure, he sought Auggie's validation like twenty-four seven, but he didn't agree with a lot of what he believed— okay, he disagreed with like pretty much everything.

"What, like Bowie?"

This ellicit a small laugh from her, finally lifting her mood ever so slightly, "Yeah. Like Bowie."

***

Present Day: April 12th, 2022

"No, I don't have room for another class in my schedule, Jan." Work bags and grocery bags were ballanced precariously in her arms and her phone was pressed to her ear by her shoulder as she attempted to unlock the front door of her apartment. She let out a pissed off scoff, "No- Jan, that's my free period. I use that to grade. There are other English teachers, ask one of them." Finally her apartment door swung open and she was able to get inside, weaving through scattered dog toys and an overly excited pittie. She bites back an immature grumble as she sets down her groceries, "Well, I don't know what to tell you. Hire someone new because I don't have the time." Click.

Her palms rested against the cold granite counter of her kitchen, calming her frustrations ever so slightly. This school year had already been enough to make her question why she went into teaching in the first place. From a rowdy Freshman class that tested her patience, a new principal who doesn't seem to have any regard for the class loads she gives to teachers, and a lazy piece of shit boyfriend who was two seconds away from being dumped, she was ready to say fuck it and run off to the country side.

The thumping of her dog's tail against her leg pulled her from her pity party. She glanced down at her pittie, Eggsy— a name given after realizing that dogs could have a favorite movie and for some reason his was Kingsman: Golden Circle. Smiling, she kneeled down to let him press into her arms, "Hi, buddy. D'you have a good day?" She glanced around the quiet apartment, "Did Cody actually get off his ass and leave the house?" Her fingers paused on his head, so Eggsy pulled away from her to walk over to his water dish which turned out to be bone dry, "Motherfucker- CODY! ARE YOU HOME?" Her fury from the day returned with a vengence as she filled the dish back up. The silence she recieved told her he was either miraculously out of the apartment or gaming with his fucking noise cancelling headphones on.

She rose from the ground, her gaze zeroing in on her closed bedroom door, eyes narrowing as she stalked towards the room and muttered vulgarities that only a salior could manage to string together, "That lazy fucking piece of shit…" If the #ihatemybf trend had a face, it would be hers. "CODY!"

Cody's face paled, startled out of his game. He was completely frozen in place like a child caught doing something they shoudln't, "Hey, baby… when did you get home?" He knew she was going to lose her shit on him. She'd told him time and time again that if he didn't get a job, he needed to get things done around the house while she was at work— evidently, he'd yet to do this in the slightest.

She could tell by his face that he knew he was in deep shit, "Turn off that fucking game and take off your headphones." She didn't wait for him to do so before launching into her speech, "I am so sick and tired of your lazy ass. I feel like I have a teenage son, not a boyfriend. At this point, I'm ready to—" Knock knock knock. A scoff fell from her lips at the interuption, holding her finger out at him, "I'm not done."

She couldn't imagine who would possibly be at her door at the moment, but whoever it was would probably get a taste of her anger too. Without looking through the peep hole, she tugged the door open and froze, "Chris?"

"Hey, sis." It had been so long since they'd spoken that Chris was almost convinced the woman before him wasn't even his sister. The last time he saw her was the night of her high school graduation where she told him she'd be leaving for college in California with no plans of returning (spoiler alert: she came back). That was over a decade ago. Giving her a once over, he noticed all the things that made her his sister. Those forever furrowed eyebrows, the necklace she hadn't taken off since she was twelve, and that tilt of her head that told you everything you needed to know about how she was feeling.

"What the fuck are you—"

"Who's at the door?" The voice of her idiot boyfriend was like nails on a chalk board. The one time he manages to do something outside of rotting in their shared bedroom, it ends up being something to piss her off even further, "Babe, who the fuck is this?"

"I'm her br-"

"None of your fucking business, Cody." She whipped around, staring the man down for a long moment before speaking again, "We're done. Pack your things."

"What?"

"Pack your things and go."

***

She stood at her kitchen counter and watched her brother with a curious gaze. Normally, he was spotted out and about constantly in his Peacemaker costume, but he'd done her the favor of wearing normal clothes to show up on her doorstep.

After a long sip of her wine, she spoke, "So, you're out of Belle Reve?"

A shallow nod, "Yeah… how'd you know I was arrested again?" Chris had been arrested a few times before for his vigilante behavior, but after a mission for A.R.G.U.S. went wrong, he was sentenced to thirty years at the super prison Belle Reve.

He'd used his one phone call on her.

She didn't answer.

After listening to the voicemail he'd left for her, she felt absolutely horrible for not answering. They hadn't talked in years, and yet he used his phone call on her. From there on, she'd made a point of keeping tabs on him through his prison sentence via a security guard she knew, "I keep tabs on you."

"You've been keeping tabs on me?" He asked incredulously, the beer she'd given him stopping short on it's way to his mouth, "How the fuck were you even doing that?"

"I know a guy." She smiled playfully, letting her guard down ever so slightly.

She wasn't sure of Chris at the moment. He was everything to her growing up, but after they lost contact, she assumed his dad had stuffed his nazi propaganda down his throat. In the long run, he was still her best friend growing up. He was to her what Keith was to him. Just like Chris and Keith, their dad had torn them apart.

"You know a guy." Chris murmured into his beer, eyebrow raised slightly, "You uh… you really grew up, huh? You're different." Meaner, he thought to himself. Especially after he witnessed her breakup just minutes earlier.

"Yeah, well… I'm not sixteen anymore." She swirled the wine in her glass, watching it with a sad smile, "You're not very different, are you?"

"Probably not."

It was comforting to know that he hadn't changed much. Somehow, it was like she was a teenager again, just hanging out with her big brother— yet, she still hadn't completely let her guard down because she didn't truly know what this Chris was like, how he'd changed.

"Did you tell your little side-kick about me?" She asked curiously, a small smile quirking up at the corners of her mouth, "He stalked me for a minute after you got arrested, he wanted to see if I would help him break you out.

"Fuck," Chris sighed heavily, shaking his head, "I mentioned you like one time."

"Just one time," she repeated with a chuckle, "It's fine, I'm not like mad or anything. Seemed sweet. Reminded me of someone…. still can't put my finger on it though."

"Sweet?" Chris replied incredulously, "Dude, he's weird as fuck."

"Oh, c'mon. Clearly he thinks you guys are best friends, give him a break."

She thought back to that night he finally approached her. She'd noticed Vigilante haphazardly following her home on a few occasions before he 'saved' her from a mugging and took the opportunity to reveal himself as "Peacemaker's best friend". It was heartwarming the way he talked about her brother, so passionate and determined. He was genuinely serious about breaking Chris out of Belle Reve, but she talked him down from the idea— "You can't help him if you're stuck in prison too" she'd explained.

"Best friends," he murmured, "Bullshit, Eagly is my best friend."

"Eagly is a bird, Chris."

"Yeah, and my best friend."

Finally, she let out a real laugh. Comfortable banter had settled back between them like nothing ever changed, like they were back to being kids again listening to Motley Crue and sharing a beer they stole from their dad. It brought a smile to Chris's face to see her finally opening up to him.

"So, what are you doing now that you're out?" Her head tilted to the side curiously, her wine hovering inches from her lips as she waited for him to respond.

"Probably lay low for awhile, then go back to crime fighting." He shrugged like it was nothing, like he didn't want her catch onto what he let slip.

"Lay low?" She narrowed her eyes, "Chris… did they let you out or did you break out?"

He stiffened, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, "They didn't exactly let me out, but they haven't come for me either, so…"

"What the fuck, Chris?!" She set her wine glass down with a loud clang , reflecting the fury she suddenly felt, "You're a fucking fugitive and showed up on my doorstep?"

"Hey hey, no! I am not a fugitive! They left me in a hospital! I just walked out!"

Tension thickened between them as Chris's sister grew angrier. She wanted to express her anger, but she didn't get the chance to speak. There was no time for her yell, let alone get out a single thought because her front door suddenly swung open under the force of four people rushing into her apartment.

"Christopher Smith!" One of them yelled, rushing into the kitchen with his gun raised. He was an angry looking man, the glare of a man on a mission staring through her and into Chris.

"FUCK!" Chris swore, looking between the three agents furiously, "Come on!"

"You really think we'd let you skip out on your sentence without a catch?" The man raised his eyebrow, gun still pointed, "Sit down, we need to talk."

She glared between each person that broke into her apartment, two women— one, an experienced looking agent and the other a little nervous looking. There were two men as well, sharing similar demeanors as the two women. Except, one of the men snuck off towards her fridge where he began riffling through for food.

"Hey, asshole! Get the fuck out of my fridge!" She snapped, watching as the man glanced over at her with the look of a kicked puppy and a mouth full of olives.

"My blood sugar is low…" He whined, popping another olive into his mouth with a frown.

"Yeah well, those olives are expired." Her eyes narrowed as he spit the olives back into the jar before placing it back where he found it.

"Smith," the other man brought their attention back to him, holstering his gun and calling off the two women, "And… other Smith. We have a mission we need you for. It was only supposed to be Peacemaker we were after, but we could use Chaos too."

Her heart stuttered in her chest as the man referenced her old alter-ego. She hadn't operated under that name since she started college, the fact that this man knew it was her chilled her to her core.

"How did you—"

"They're ARGUS," Chris's face turned in her direction, but his eyes never left the man, "They know everything."

"Focus up, Smiths." The angry man pulled their attention back in, "My name is Mr. Murn. That man is John Economos, that's Agent Harcourt, and Agent Leota Adebayo." He pointed to each respective person who gave Chris and his sister their own greeting, "We need you both for something we're calling Project Butterfly."

***

It was mere hours later that she found herself sitting at a table at Fennel Fields, each person who'd invaded her home now sitting around the table with her and waiting on her brother. She hadn't said a single word to any of them, she didn't want to. They'd just met, they expected her to join in on some fucking mission, and she already had something against them— with good reason. She'd be sending ARGUS an invoice for her splintered doorframe.

"Hi- hey… what's up," a voice next to their table cleared their throat, awkwardly standing just a little too far away from them, "Can I take any plates for you guys?" It was Adrian Chase, Gut Chase's little brother— someone her brother knew from high school.

Adrian, who used to be a gangly and awkward boy, used to follow Gut around like he was the coolest person on planet Earth. Which meant, whenever Gut came over, so would Adrian. She'd always hid in her room because they were all much older than her, but she'd harbored a small crush on him— one that she wasn't sure had gone away, especially considering how much he'd beefed up.

"We're okay, Adrian. Thanks, though." She smiled kindly, adding a little nod to each person at the table to make sure they agreed. When she did speak to him, she'd always been extra kind to him. She wasn't sure he even registered or cared, but all the other boys were mean to him. She wanted to be the one person who wasn't.

"Oh," he seemed a bit disappointed, yet on the inside he couldn't believe she had remembered his name— she was so pretty now, "Okay… just let me know if you need anything." He tacked on her name at the end with an added flair, like a 'I remember your name too' kind of way.

"Thanks, Chase." She nodded to him, watching him scamper away just as her brother finally showed up… in full uniform. Fucking helmet and everything.

"Hey, guys." Her brother squeezed himself into the booth, leather squeaking awkwardly as he moved.

"Why the fuck are you wearing that?" Harcourt grumbled, gesturing to his stupid getup with disdain.

"It's a uniform… we're working." He made a face at her, almost like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "D'you guys eat without me?"

"Yeah, man. You took forever to get here." Economos complained— something he did quite often, she noted.

Chris rolled his eyes and waved over a waitress, "Hey, sweetcheeks! Yeah, can I get the zoodles?"

"Sure thing, hon. I'll get 'em right out to ya." The poor waitress quickly took his order and disappeared, leaving the table to stare at Chris in disgust. His sister wasn't surprised. That's exactly how her father acted, so in turn, that's how Chris learned to act— even if he wasn't fully aware he was in the wrong.

"Seriously, Chris?" She murmured, nudging him under the table with her foot.

"What? They're zucchini. It's healthy."

"We're not talking about what you ordered, man!" Adebayo backed her up as she shook her head, "Sweetcheeks? Really?"

"What?" He became defensive, feeling offended that they would invalidate him like this, "She has cherubic cheeks! It's a compliment."

"Sweetcheeks doesn't refer to her face, dumbass." She glared down her oblivious brother, watching the realization dawn over him before he quickly returned to that self-assured look.

"Well, I wasn't looking, but I'm sure her ass was nice too. She has a good figure."

Another eye roll passed around the group before Murn grabbed their attention back to the mission, "Smith's, these are for you." He handed them each a manila folder, nodding to each of them seriously. He quickly grew angry as Chris immediately opened it despite the contents being extremely sensitive.

"Don't-" his sister slammed the folder shut and gave him a glare that the rest of the table reflected, "Don't open that shit in public, dumbass."

"Take it home and read it, Smith." Murn sighed, dragging a hand down his face. To which Chris merely shrugged and set down the file.

"Why is that busboy staring at us again?" Harcourt questioned, looking over to Adrian once more. Everyone looked over to see Adrian give Chris a supportive fist pump and big dopey smile.

"He's got mental issues." Chris whispered, earning a hard kick from his sister, "What? He does."

"He also has a crush on your sister." Adebayo teased, sending her a wink in support.

"What? On my sister?" Chris laughed like he'd heard the most absurd thing in the world, "Yeah, that's likely. I mean, she's not ugly, but…" he muttered like she couldn't hear him, "she's not the prettiest of the bunch.

Another kick.

"Dude, fuck off."

"Can we get back on task please?" Mr. Murn seemed to be getting more exasperated by the second, glaring at the plate of zucchini green zoodles placed in front of Chris. He nodded to the waitress before dropping his polite expression the moment she walked away, "Go home and read the file."

She nodded to Murn before forcing her brother out of the bench so she could take her file and leave. She needed to get back to her apartment for peace and quiet— aka space from her overbearing and obnoxious brother, and now the team of asshole agents that recruited her.

As she weaved her way through the restaurant, she couldn't help the glances she made through the room in an attempt to spot Adrian. She didn't want to admit it, but when Adebayo joked about Adrian having a crush on her, it made her heart race. It even made her wonder— no, hope that it was more than just a joke.

"Shit-" She stumbled back a step as she walked into a poor busboy carrying a bucket of dirty plates. He looked damn near ready to chew her out when Adrian rushed over, "I'm so sorry, dude. I wasn't paying attention."

"Hey! Daniel!" Adrian snapped at the other busboy, "Maybe watch where you're walking? We have a rule here about not walking into customers." He placed his hands on his hips in an attempt to seem authoritative, leaning forwards, "Fuck off, man."

The busboy- Daniel- just rolled his eyes at Adrian before muttering an apology to her and walking away.

"That's not actually a rule," Adrian smiled at her, looking proud of himself, "I just said that to make him think he could get in trouble. It really should be a rule though. We should not be walking into customers like that, it's bad for business."

"Adrian," she chuckled softly, "It's okay, we were probably both at fault… thank you, though. That was very kind of you."

His smile widened, "Yeah, duh. Of course. How could I just stand by and let you get assaulted like that. That guy deserves to lose his job— I bet that wasn't even his first time running into a customer. Man, we really should crack down on this."

She stood there, smiling like an idiot as Adrian ran through all of the possible scenarios in which that could have gone south— a knife jumping out of the bin and stabbing her, the bin falling on her and breaking a bone, etc. It was detailed and completely unrealistic what he delved into, but she stood there and took it in like he was reasonable in warning her about the dangers of wandering busboys.

"Anyways," he shrugged, still smiling widely, "I should probably get back to work before my boss gets on me for not working… I'll see you later, crocodile."

She furrowed her eyebrows with a chuckle, "I think its alligator— ya know, since it rhymes with later."

"No…?" He scoffed, giving her an unintentional condescending look, "It's definitely crocodile. I should know, I know a bunch of crocodile facts. You should quiz me."

"Yeah?" she laughed, "I'll have to take you up on that sometime… maybe you should give me your number. You know, so I can call and quiz you."

Adrian looked like a kid in a candy shop, completely lighting up at the prospect of getting her phone number, "Uh yeah, I can do that." He whipped out a pen and paper from his apron and jotted down his number before handing it over with a flourish.

"Thanks, Ad." She smiled softly, taking it from him with an uncharacteristic wink, "I'll call you."

"Yeah. You do that. You just… type in those numbers and give me a good ol' ring." He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck as she walked away, grateful she probably didn't hear the last part of that.

As she walked out to the parking lot, phone number in hand, she read the digits to herself a few times over. She swore she'd seen this number before— did she already get his number? Surely not or she would've gotten closer to him already. She shook off her confusion and stuffed the number into her pocket, unlocking her car and getting in, smile still lingering on her face.

The drive home wasn't long, which she was grateful for. She hadn't bothered turning on her radio or putting in a CD, instead she drove home in silence and continued to think about her interaction with Adrian. He was always so refreshingly awkward. It was a much appreciated divergence from the average overconfident dickhead she normally ran into. Which is why for the entire drive home she continued to think about that dopey smile he always wore and the way he seemed to have filled out since the last time she'd seem him… and he really bulked up. She could feel herself get hot as she thought about what his biceps would look like in a tighter shirt as he picked up those heavy dish baskets, muscles rippling behind the fabric.

"Shit-" She blinked back into reality and realized she'd begun to slowly drift towards the side of the road without realizing, "Note to self: Don't think about biceps while driving."

It was when she finally arrived home that she sat down on her couch to punch in Adrian's number and shoot him a text. Nervously, she glanced between the paper and her phone, typing in each digit only to find one of her contacts remaining steadily in the suggested bar. Then, when she'd had the whole number punched in, she continued to cross check each number: On the paper she would count out the first three digits, then look at the contact on her phone… the same digits, then back to the paper for the last four. Each number completely identical, and yet before now these two contacts would have been two very different people.

When her brother went to prison and she was first introduced to him, he'd given her his number in case of emergency. Now, here she was, staring at the number of someone else entirely and coming to the realization of one very big secret.

Adrian Chase is Vigilante and without realizing, he'd completely blown his cover by giving her his number for the second time.

She was now left with a very important decision: tell him and risk a potentially violent fallout or pretend she didn't know a thing.

Taking a deep breath, she typed out a simple text and sent it off, forcing herself into waited with baited breath for his response.