oh my god finally | fallen hero fanfic, early sidestep times with early charge step ~6.2k words [28.1k/50k] [ao3]
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“So,” Charge turns on you, “When’s your birthday?”
“I… w–what?” What had been an earnest conversation with Anathema about self-medication has gone totally pear-shaped with Charge inserting herself into the conversation. And now she blindsides you with a personal question? You cross your arms, grateful for the mask hiding the surprise on your face. “None of your business.” It’s better than having to lie to her.
Charge raises her hands, looking a little put-off. “Well sorry Sidestep, I didn’t know it was classified.”
“It’s not. It’s just…” You stumble on your tongue, trying to find a nicer way to say. “It–it–it’s private.” Why does Charge want to know your birthday? You barely know her. That’s weird. This is weird. What if she’s on to something? What if she needs the date to cross-check something and expose your secret?
Anathema gives you a concerned look. That settles it. “Hey, s–sorry, I got to go.”
“Hey, wait!” Charge makes a move to grab your arm but you twist out of the way in time. “Look, I’m sorry, I just wanted to–”
“It’s fine,” you cut her off with your hand. “I’m j–just running late. See you all later.”
“Bye, Sidestep,” Anathema says as you leave.
Behind you, you can hear their not-so-whispered argument.
“Nice going, Charge.”
“What?! I didn’t do anything!”
Getting home is always an extended process. Can’t go straight home dressed like this after all. Keep a couple changes of clothes stashed around the neighborhood, something that’ll cover the skinsuit, a backpack to hide the mask and the day’s tools. Suitably disguised, now it’s safe to go home.
And it is a disguise. As weird as it is to think of Alex that way. Alex is a perfectly ordinary human boy – girl. Human girl. You can call yourself that now. You mean call Alex that. No, you mean yourself – yourself who is Alex? Or – augh! If you’re really going to do this, then you need to find a name for yourself that actually feels like you.
Heyo, hope you're having a good day! Anyway, there is something I didn't really understand in Good Omens and I thought maybe you could help? So according to the prophecy, Anathema and Newt are supposed to have sex just once, right? And while watching the show, I thought it was because one of them was gonna die during the apocalypse. But they both turned out fine. They even end up a couple, right? So do they refrain from having sex solely bc Agnes told them they would? xx
Hello, thank you! :)
They were going to have sex once only until the apocalypse - that was when Agnes’ prophecies ended in the Book.
And then of course they received the new prophecies and who knows what was there.
More importantly... after the Appocalypse, their life was free to live as they wanted, with or without sex :).
"What happened this time, darling?" the lady kindly asked as she brushed Yallïs' muddied shirt, cooing her into her arms. The little elf had been fighting in the streets again, came back to the Sandieu's camp with a bloodied nose and bruised knuckles. Anthema didn't know what to do, she had been taking care of her for a few months now, ever since the fire, but Yallïs remained difficult to sooth, hardly sharing her troubles she knew were many.. And of course, joining her son into his foolish streets crusade. The both of them shared a noble intention, but beating bullies was getting them hurt too. Anthema wished they'd take care more of themselves before they try to protect the defenseless..
Fallen Hero; Rebirth fan fiction; i’m on an early Sidestep era kick i guess. baby charge step, ~2.1k words [ao3]
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As the interview wraps up Charge shakes the news team’s hands, none-too-relieved to see them finally pack up and leave. She works not to let it show, Anathema notes. Keeps the smile perfectly in place, demeanor relaxed. Even as they walk away, the mask stays on. There’s always somebody watching.
For example:
“Anathema,” Charge taps her fellow ranger on the shoulder as she rejoins the conversation between her and Sentinel, “Is our new friend still around?”
Anathema looks up at Charge, tilts her head and cocks and eyebrow. “I bet she’s still hanging out on the roof,” She gestures up, behind Charge, “Why?”
Charge’s gaze follows Anathema’s hand and you quickly duck down behind the parapet, pulling your mental presence back from the milling crowd of bystanders and wrapping it tightly around you like one of Chelsea’s songs. Try to drown out all the chattering voices again.
Did she see you? You don’t know. You can’t tell. You can’t read Charge’s mind. Tap into the perceptions of everyone around her? Sure, a little overwhelming but if you’re not doing anything else it’s parsable. Reading Charge’s mind however?
Garbled.
Static maybe, is the best way to describe it. Like trying to tune into a cable channel you don’t have the decryption for. Ghosts of images that maybe mean something if you squint real hard and are willing to just completely make shit up.
Charge is hardly the first person who’s been immune to your telepathy. But they either didn’t matter for the mission or…. well, you ‘grew up’ with some very scary people who worked very hard to make sure you got nothing out of them. You don’t think Charge is purposefully doing anything to block you.
That might be even more terrifying?
Is this part of the requirement for being Marshall? Some kind of mental immunity? How you supposed to interact with her? Read her emotion? Make sure you don’t say the wrong thing. Thanks to the Directive, you know full well what to expect when you don’t read someone correctly. Screw up with the Marshal of Los Diablos and–
“Hey! Hey Sidestep, you up there!?”
You jump a foot in the air. Make some sort of noise that is absolutely not a scream.
“Woah!” There’s laughter. At you? That’s… that’s good, right? “Relax! I just wanted to talk before you ran off again.”
You peer over the parapet. Yep, it’s Charge down there, a hand shield her eyes as she stares up at your hiding spot. You should have just run. Shouldn’t have let your curiosity get the better of you. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Uh…” Charge rubs the back of her neck, head tilted up but her eyes are focused down. “Do you mind coming down?”
You have to think about this. “…why?”
That gets another laugh out of Charge. “Well, it’s kind of hard to have a private conversation like this.”
You pull back down, out of sight. You have to admit she has a point. Do you want a conversation with Charge? It’d have better if you could have gotten a firmer grasp on her personality first, but…
“Okay.” You call down. Always easier to fall down then to get back up. It’s a short climb down to the top of the fire escape in the alley and then a slide down the ladder to get back to street level.
Charge is already moving to meet you as you come out of the alley. “Thanks,” she says, “and thanks for helping out today.”
“Uh…” You flounder for the right response. People keep using that word at you. First Chelsea, and then Anathema and now the Marshal herself and you still don’t know how to handle it. Settle for a thumbs up, “No… problem?”
“I’m Marshal Charge, by the way, if that wasn’t obvious.” Charge sticks out her hand.
“S–sidestep.” You answer, staring at her hand. You know you’re supposed to shake it but… what if it’s a trap? What if she zaps you or tries some other attack?
“Right, well, it’s good to finally get a chance to talk with you.” There’s an uncomfortable silence and then Charge lets her hand drop, some unreadable expression on her face. “You’re pretty good in a fight, where did you learn to move like that?”
You scratch at your face, under the mask. You’ve already screwed this up, you know it. “Uh, well, you know…” Shrug. Secret government training and telepathically spying in on random martial arts classes, not exactly something you can come out and say. “Self-taught, I guess?”
“Oh?” Charge’s face brightens, her eyes focused on your masked face and you have to grab your arms behind your back to keep yourself from stepping away. “Me too. I never had the patience to take proper classes.”
Hopefully your mask hides the surprise. There’s no way that’s true. She’s way too good. You… you may have been making a point to watch the news whenever a story about the Marshal comes on.
“Maybe we can spar sometime?” She rubs her chin. “I’d love to figure out that dodge around you kept doing.” She shoots you a glance, the corner of her lips quirking up. A smirk? “Is that why they they call you Sidestep?”
“Uh, Y–y–yeah! You got it.” You flash another thumbs-up for want of a better response. Showing Charge might be difficult. You kind of need to be able to read your opponent to know where to dodge. “It’s– it’s kind of tricky,” you say in a half-truth. “I don’t think you’d be able to do it.”
The look on Charge’s face intensifies and she leans in. This time you take a step back. “Oh really? Now we absolutely have to spar.”
Shit. Shoot. Sugar. You plant your feet, tensing up. “R–really? Right now?”
She blinks at you, then pulls back and holds up her hands. “Well, not here obviously. I meant, like, we could do something back at the Ranger Headquarters.”
Oh.
Oh?
Huh.
Relax your stance, fold your arms in front of you. You tilt your head. “That’s… allowed? I thought only Rangers–”
“Well… yeah? We let associates in all the time to help coordinate things. Make sure nobody’s stepping on each other’s toes… that kind of thing.” Charge tilts her head, and jerks a hand back towards Anathema who’s busy talking to Sentinel now. “Anathema says she’s willing to vouch for you, and…” There’s that quirk of her mouth again, definitely smirking. Has to be. “You don’t seem too weird for a vigilante.”
“W-what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, you know,” Charge rises her eyebrows and there’s dimples under her eyes. “Not everyone who dresses up in an outfit and goes out to fight crime is well-adjusted.”
——
Charge takes a swing at you, straight for the side of your head. Swerve to the side and duke around her other arm to get behind her – her knee hits you in the stomach and the air’s knocked out of your lungs. You fall to the ground wheezing and roll onto your back.
“You okay there, Sidestep?” Charge takes a step towards you, a hand on her helmet.
You gasp down a breath, twist onto your side and make a sweep for her feet. Charge laughs in surprise as she jumps over your leg. “Okay then! I guess so.”
You hiss in frustration and let your head fall back on the mat. You’ve gone five-nothing in straight loses and every muscle is screaming at you stop. “I–I–I swear I’m better than this.”
Ortega sits down next to you, arms on her knees. She’s looking at you, watching you, which isn’t great but you don’t have the energy left to do anything about it. “I believe you. You kept hesitating.” There’s a hint of a frown on her lips and then it’s gone. “I’m the Marshal, I get it.”
You have to run that sentence back through your mind to parse it. “What? W-what does being Marshal have to do with it?”
That gets you a titled head and a raised eyebrow.
What? What is it? So there is something about being Marshal that’s shielding her thoughts from you? The headache from dampeners would be immediate and It doesn’t feel like the blankness from the telepathy blocking drug. Or the kind of thought void a trained telepath can leave… just nothing at all until you press.
“Huh.” Charge rubs the back of neck. “You’re serious.”
You push yourself up on your elbows. “Does being Marshal get you some sort of special perk?”
That seems to get her off guard. “What?”
Swallow down the anxiety; let what’s left of the adrenaline carry you. “You’re… very hard to read.” Your heart spikes as you say it.
There’s that smile on her lips again. Definitely a smirk. “Thanks, I think. I try. And no secret Marshal perks. Just lots of busywork.”
“Well…” You chew your lip, thinking. “I guess, if there were, you probably wouldn’t tell me.”
“Hah! Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“So there is?”
“These lips are sealed.” She dusts off her legs and stands up. “And I get the feeling there’s more to your fighting skills than just practice, huh?” God she’s so smug. That’s definitely a smug expression on her face.
“W–w–well, my lips are sealed too.” Telepathy works best against the unprepared. Charge might be immune somehow but you don’t need the word getting out. You definitely don’t want the Directive getting wind.
Charge cocks her hips to one side, a hand on her hip. “Is that so? Well, I look forward to prying them open, Miss…?”
What?
What is she saying?
Oh god.
You have never been more grateful to be wearing a mask than now. It feels like your entire face is on fire. “Just Sidestep is fine!” You manage to squeak out.
Charge’s face lights up in a laugh and you wish you could just sink into the floor. “Not much of a flirter huh? I’ll keep that in mind.” She puts her hand forward again, extended towards you. “You can call me Ortega if you want.”
You move to brush your hair back only to realize too late it’s all tucked away under your mask and hood. You let your hand just awkwardly hover there by your ear. “Uh, that– that seems a little informal? I’ll just stick to Charge.”
You swear you catch a hint of that frown again and then the smirk is back. “Alright, fair enough.” She lets her hand drop. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into letting me get you dinner or something to pay back for beating your ass?”
This woman is dangerous. “N-n-no, I’m good. I– I really ought to get going, actually.”
She shrugs, hands up in the air. “Alright then. I’ll walk you out.”
You’re pretty sure you could find your own way out, but it would make sense if guests aren’t allowed to wander the building unsupervised. “T-thanks.”
“Of course, no problem. Don’t be a stranger now!”
It’s not until you’re halfway back home that it hits you. Did Ortega– Charge, did Charge, call you miss without you needing to correct her first? Did… did you pass? Was it a lucky guess? Did Anathema say something to her? Come to think of it, does Anathema even know?
You have to stop walking and duck into an alley so you can clutch your head and have your existential crises. Do you ask if they know? Do you just come out and tell them? You don’t want the Rangers to think you’re hiding anything. Especially since you absolutely are hiding things. But… What if they treat you differently? Or look at you differently? Walking down the street in normal clothes lately has been nerve racking. Every time someone’s idle thought catches sight of you… it was always nerve-wracking before but now they feel like daggers. Each time you fail to blend in with the crowd… It’s dangerous. Just because you could take any random person in a fight doesn’t mean you want to.
No. You shake your head, run through a breathing exercise. Maybe you’ll explore the waters with Anathema, she seems nice and you have the feeling that she already knows that something is up. But not Ort– Charge. If she could just treat you like a normal person? That would be pretty neat.
Damn she was so fucking smug about beating you. That smile…you must be really mad because you can’t stop thinking about it.
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I voted and want to say that you should do whatever with it, it's your blog, don't feel guilty about it. (I hope this didn't come out as being rude, that wasn't my intention)
