Pairing: Agent North x Reader
Day 10 of Fics Advent Calendar 2017. Read the others here
A/N: There have been a LOT of North prompts, so I’m actually gonna put them at the bottom of the fic this time round.
Summary: Abandoned by your team on a planet in the middle of god knows where, North and yourself are forced to take shelter and a storm sets to knock out the coms and all chance of extraction.
wc: 881
“We're just gonna have to put up with it,” sighs North, coming to rest beside you in the driest section of the shelter. Scooting up you give him space, the man sits with a groan. “At least until morning.”
You watch the roof leak, large puddles clinging to the bowing floor. The rain pounds heavily against the tiny abandoned base, wind wailing as it pleads for entry, rattling window panes and slipping through the cracks.
“How long does night last on this planet?”
North considers your question with a sinking heart, casting a guilty sideways glance. “4 days.”
“4 days?” you groan, “what the fu- err frick frack are we going to do for 4 days?”
North smiles gratefully, the young AI sitting atop his shoulder and kicking his feet unaware of the curse nearly escaping your lips. “4 days, at least.”
You groan louder.
“The storm's too dangerous,” comments the boy surrounded with throbbing pinks and purples. “The equipment won’t work.”
“Good point, Theta,” congratulates North over possibly the loudest sigh you've ever sighed in your life.
“What’re we gonna do,” you ask in despair, standing and pacing the space, feet kicking water. “We don’t have any food, map, working shelter; this is complete bull–”
“Bull poopy?” offers Theta, materialising in front of you. You smile despite your frustration, holding up a finger for him to high five.
“Bull poopy,” you accept.
“You’re a bad influence,” teases North, coming over and taking your hand in his. You pull a face, expression scrunching.
“I’m a great influence. Like, take our team for example. When I see them again I’m going to influence them so hard in the dam- darn teeth they’ll be shi- pooping teeth for a week.”
North offers an apologetic smile, stifling his amusement. “This is hard for you, isn’t it?”
“Don’t play with me.”
He backs off, holding his hands up in surrender at the sight of true anger. Theta casts him a worried and confused glance, but he smiles. “You wanna shut down for a bit, buddy? It’s past your bedtime.”
The AI pouts, kicking nonexistent stones. “Can’t I stay up? It’s a weekend.”
“Not on this planet it isn’t.”
With a noisy raspberry Theta flickers before fading away, the roaring rain filling the space with a freezing cold. You don’t want to turn to him, too infuriated, but his hands have other ideas. He shifts you gently, taking your face in his palms before searching your expression. You settle into the warmth, craving the comfort only he can provide.
He seems to find what he’s looking for. “It’s not their fault.”
You frown, wrinkling your nose in disgust. Ruefully yanking away you return to your pacing, footplates sloshing through the steadily spreading puddles. “God damn it, North.” You’re shaking your head, bitter as he watches you. “Of course it’s their damn fault.”
“Y/N–”
“No,” you whirl, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Stop covering for them; stop lying down for them to step on you. They knew what they were doing when they got to extraction before radioing. They were already in the damn air before could hit the ground running.”
He looks like he wants to argue, but knows better. He remains quiet, letting you get it out of your system. Though you don’t know where to direct your anger, you persist, feeling it boil in your chest and bubble from your lips.
“I’m sick of it, North. I’m tired of not being able to trust our team mates cus there’s too desperate to compete and climb the fucking ladder. This is just what the director wants, for us to fight and follow orders than loyalties.” You sigh, falling onto your haunches, head in hands. “This is just what he wants.”
The storm takes over again; rain drops hitting your armour with soft plinks. North sighs, coming over to stand before you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’re lucky the weathers knocked out the coms.” With a groan and click he’s sitting, staring out the window screaming in its frame. “You don’t give our friends enough credit.”
“You give the project too much.”
“I’m not talking about the project; I’m talking about the people. They’re still in there, and they’re going through the same as us.” He looks at you, reaching out to take your hand as you collapse with a groan to lean against the closest wall. “We can’t abandon them, because like you said, it’s ‘just what he wants.’”
“I have too many feelings.” Your voice is quiet, cracking with a roll of thunder.
Shuffling, North pulls you close with an arm winding around your waist. “You’ve got the right amount of feelings.”
“How do you still have hope?” you ask, curling into his side, legs hooking together and face buried in his neck. “Everything’s so fucked. I don’t know if we’re doing the right thing anymore, I don’t know whose side we’re on.”
“I know, Y/N,” he murmurs into your hair, “but we have to think of the people we love. I’d do anything for you, just like I’d do anything for them.” He smiles down, caressing your face with a thumb. “Well, maybe a little more for you.”
“Your selflessness is going to get you killed.”
“I know.”
Prompts:
1. Could you do a Reader x North where they end up stranded on a planet after a mission goes awry and they take shelter has an issue with (this prompt literally just stops here. I dunno; so I made it up as I went.)
2. I love your blog! ^^ Also, if the prompts are still open, would you mind doing a North and Reader fic? Anything is fine with me...I absolutely adore North...
3. Heyo!! I know you're busy and all, so I'm just asking if you wanted to do this in your downtime, but do you think you could write some NorthxReader?? Anything really, its your choice. P.s. I love your writing and your blog!!
4. I know this sounds weird but could you do a AI x reader story and any plot is fine
SUMMARY: You haven’t spoken to Washington in seven years, not since the incident at Project Freelancer.
“I don’t want to hear it,” you seethe, spitting the words out. “I don’t want to hear the excuses, Wash. It’s too fucking late.” You can hear your words echoing in the silence, but can’t bear to look at his face, preferring to focus on the small puddles of rain he has walking in to your home. “Look, Y/N, would you just,” he takes a sharp breath, desperate; “would you just listen for once in your damn life?!” You whip around, glaring, satisfied as he flinches.
“Excuse me? I don’t need your crap,” you point an accusatory finger at him, and he shrinks even further away from your rage. “All I ever did was try and help you. Don’t fucking act all high and mighty because you’re still running around and saving the world.” You take a deep breath, levelling your shoulders, and turning away. “You don’t know me Agent Washington, and I doubt you ever did.”
Washington straightens out, his cheeks flaming pink and eyes dead set, glaring at your back. “You’re wrong,” he states bluntly, “I knew you before all this shit, knew you before your first name was Agent.” You bark out a laugh, throwing your hands in the air. “Oh really, my heart bleeds for you,” you sneer, turning to face Washington; trying to ignore the details of age carved into his face, trying to avoid acknowledging the stinging behind your eyes. “We were best friends, Y/N,” Washington motions at you, slight confusion mingling with the visible anger tracing each feature of his face. You move to mock him, but he stops you with a quick flick of his hand; holding your unspoken words still in the air. “No, you’re going to fucking listen,” he growls, before beginning to talk animatedly. “It’s been seven years.” He almost laughs, “Do you realise that? Seven years!” He’s moving quickly now, each movement sharp and sporadic.
You watch, slightly stunned at the fact he had clung to the years as they dragged past, much the same as you. Project Freelancer was a life time ago, but the scars were still fresh; burning into your mind. Before you can help it, your memories thrust you back, and you see a much younger Washington looking accusingly across the room at you. “You’re going with her?” he’d implored incredulously, motioning to Texas who stood behind you. “Seriously? In case you’d forgotten, they’re the bad guys, Y/N.” You had flinched, taking a step towards him as York yelled to warn of incoming forces. Texas has sworn softly under her breath, before calling to you to pick up the pace. Washington had been shaking his head, backing away with each step you took towards him. “David, please,” you’d pleaded, reaching out for him “You don’t understand. Come with us, I’ll explain everything. We don’t have to be a part of this anymore.” Your stomach churns as you remember the look on his face, the betrayal that continues to haunt you. “You’re just as bad as them,” he’d spat, retreating back into the hallway behind him “Don’t bother coming back”.
You look at him now, seven years later; and still feel yourself steeped in guilt and frustration. You can hear him scrambling over his words as you remain silent, though he sounds distant and strained. “What I’m trying to say is,” he struggles, trying to find some words to cling to “If I could go back I’d, I mean, I don’t know,” he sighs, shoulders slumping under the weight of the discussion. “I wouldn’t let it come to this. I’d have listened,” he kicks his foot in the empty space, before collapsing on the floor dejectedly. “And then maybe I’d still have my best friend.”
Your mind races as you process what he’s just said, and steadily your anger is replaced with anguish. Slowly, you move forward until you are standing above him. “Seven years,” he mumbles sadly, his head in his hands. “You fucked up,” you reply before crouching in front of him, hesitantly placing a hand on his knee. He looks up at you quickly, his eyes red and face pained as you provide a tired and soft smile.
“I’m sorry, Y/N”
“I’m sorry too, David.”
