۶ৎ | Shadows Don't Burn, Light Doesn't Break
۶ৎ pairing: jackieshauna
۶ৎ author's note: i hope you see the vision too
The rooftop was quiet except for the hum of the city below. Jackie hovered just above the cracked stone ledge, light flickering faintly at her fingertips, more nervous energy than anything useful. She hadn’t seen Shauna in years, not since the accident, not since everything broke apart.
But Shauna was already there, half-hidden in the corner where the neon glare couldn’t reach. Her silhouette rippled with darkness, the city lights bending away from her like they were afraid to touch her.
“You came,” Jackie said, her voice too soft, too hopeful.
Shauna didn’t move. “Don’t sound so surprised. I don’t ignore threats just because you’re involved.”
The words cut sharper than Jackie expected, but she forced a smile anyway, the one she used to hide the sting. “Still the same, huh? Brooding on rooftops, glaring at anyone who gets too close.”
A shadow curled lazily around Shauna’s wrist, like it was alive. “And you’re still blindingly optimistic. Some things don’t change.”
Jackie flinched at the edge under the words. She wanted to bridge the space between them, to step forward and say I’m sorry, but then the rooftop seemed to tilt, the old memory hitting like a punch: the fire, the screams, the way their powers had collided instead of saving him.
She shoved it down. “We need to work together. This new villain, whoever’s behind the mind control attacks, they’re strong. Too strong for either of us alone.”
Shauna finally stepped into the half-light, her eyes unreadable. “Work together?” she repeated, like the words were poison. “Last time we tried that, people died.”
Jackie’s chest tightened. “You think I don’t remember? Every day, Shauna. Every. Day.” Her hand glowed brighter, the light trembling with the force of her emotion. “But if we let the past stop us, more people will die.”
For a moment, the only sound was the wind. Shauna’s shadows twined tighter around her like armor, but her voice dropped, softer now, almost reluctant.
“You always were too damn stubborn,” Shauna muttered. Then, almost against her will, her eyes flicked up to meet Jackie’s and something unspoken passed between them, heavy and sharp, but also fragile.
Jackie let out a shaky breath. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
The rooftop lights buzzed faintly, caught between brightness and shadow, just like the two of them.
Neither moved closer. Not yet. But for the first time in years, they weren’t walking away either.
____
The old gym smelled like dust and rusted metal. Shauna had picked it, of course, out of the way, half-forgotten, shadows thick in every corner. Jackie’s light illuminated the space, spilling across broken mirrors and old punching bags.
“You sure about this?” Jackie asked, stretching her fingers until they shimmered faintly. “Training together again?”
Shauna rolled her shoulders, stepping into the ring like she belonged there. “Better we screw up here than in the field. Besides..” her mouth curved in a dry smirk, “I want to see if you’ve gotten sloppy.”
Jackie forced a laugh, though her stomach twisted. The last time they’d “trained,” it had ended in disaster. Still, she raised her hands. “Fine. Don’t hold back.”
Shauna didn’t.
Shadows lashed forward like serpents, forcing Jackie to throw up a glowing shield. The impact rattled through her arms, the darkness hissing against the light. Jackie countered with a burst, brilliant and sharp, but Shauna was already gone, melting into the corner, reappearing behind her with a sweep of darkness that nearly knocked her off her feet.
“Still predictable,” Shauna said, her voice echoing from everywhere and nowhere.
Jackie spun, frustrated. “Still dramatic.” She flared her palms, flooding the room with blinding radiance. For a second, all the shadows vanished, Shauna included.
But then a tendril of darkness wrapped around Jackie’s ankle and yanked. She hit the mat hard, breath punched from her lungs.
Shauna was suddenly over her, one knee pressing into Jackie’s side to pin her down, shadows curling like chains. Jackie’s light flared instinctively, fighting back, but in the tight space between them, it was too much, too hot, too close. The air crackled with tension, light and shadow colliding and sparking like electricity.
Jackie froze. Shauna’s face hovered inches from hers, eyes hard but glinting with something else, something Jackie didn’t dare name.
“Careless,” Shauna murmured, but her voice had lost its edge.
Jackie swallowed, her light dimming, softer now, more like a glow than a weapon. “Or maybe…” she whispered, breath shaky, “…I just trust you not to finish the hit.”
For a heartbeat, Shauna didn’t move. Her shadows loosened, curling back like they’d heard something private. The distance between them felt unbearably thin, old anger, old grief, and something more dangerous simmering beneath it.
Then Shauna pulled away abruptly, standing in one smooth motion. “Don’t trust me,” she said, too quickly, too sharp. “Not yet.”
Jackie lay on the mat, heart hammering, the ghost of Shauna’s touch still burning against her side. She pushed herself up slowly, her light flickering uncertainly.
“Maybe,” Jackie said softly, “but I want to.”
Shauna’s shadow rippled across the floor like an unspoken answer.
____
The abandoned subway tunnels stank of damp concrete and rust. Jackie’s light cut through the darkness in wide arcs, bouncing off twisted tracks and broken tiles. Shauna moved ahead like a phantom, shadows wrapping around her like armor.
They’d tracked the villain here the illusionist responsible for turning allies against each other. But Jackie could feel it: the oppressive weight in the air, the way her light faltered against something unnatural.
“Careful,” Shauna said quietly, her hand brushing the wall. “This place isn’t what it looks like.”
Before Jackie could answer, the ground split beneath them. A wave of shadow surged forward wrong, alien, nothing like Shauna’s controlled darkness. Jackie threw up a shield, but the blast shattered it like glass.
They were hurled back, tumbling into separate corners of the collapsing tunnel. Jackie coughed, pain flaring in her ribs. Through the haze, she saw Shauna pinned under fallen concrete, shadows flickering weakly around her.
“Shauna!” Jackie scrambled, light trembling around her like a flickering flame. The villain’s illusion pressed harder, twisting the space into a nightmare. Jackie’s vision doubled one second, she saw Shauna reaching for her; the next, she saw Shauna turning away, eyes cold, abandoning her again.
It’s not real. It’s not real.
“Jackie!” Shauna’s voice cut through the noise, raw and desperate. “Focus on me. Just me!”
Jackie’s chest tightened. She staggered forward, hand outstretched, her light dimming under the weight of the illusion. Shauna’s shadows surged at the same time, trying to push back the invading dark but alone, they weren’t strong enough.
Jackie fell to her knees beside her, their hands colliding in the debris. For a moment, light and shadow bucked against each other like they always had oil and water, clashing, fighting.
But then Jackie closed her eyes, whispering: “I trust you.”
Shauna’s breath hitched. Her grip tightened.
Their powers flared light and shadow entwining, not battling but weaving, fusing into something new. The tunnel exploded with a silvery glow, shadows dancing within it like veins of midnight. The illusion shattered, the oppressive weight lifting all at once.
When the dust settled, they were both still on the floor, their hands clasped, the glow slowly fading. Jackie realized she was leaning into Shauna, foreheads almost touching, their breathing ragged in unison.
Shauna didn’t pull away this time. Her voice was low, almost a confession: “You shouldn’t trust me.”
Jackie smiled weakly, tears pricking at her eyes. “Too late.”
For a long moment, neither of them moved, caught in the fragile, dangerous quiet. Then, with the world still trembling around them, Jackie whispered:
“Tell me you didn’t feel that.”
Shauna’s shadows stirred, curling around Jackie’s wrist, not pulling away, but holding her there. “I felt it,” she admitted, almost painfully.
The silence that followed was heavy, charged. Neither of them dared break it.
The safehouse was quiet except for the hum of the old heater. Jackie sat at the edge of the cot, hands trembling as she pressed glowing fingertips to the bruises along Shauna’s ribs. The light pooled gently, warm and soothing, knitting skin back together.
Shauna hissed through her teeth but didn’t move. Shadows curled faintly at her ankles, restless, like they didn’t know whether to fight or protect.
“You’re reckless,” Shauna muttered. “Throwing yourself into the illusion like that. You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”
Jackie’s laugh was soft, tired. “Says the one who let half a tunnel fall on her.” She pulled her hand back, the glow dimming. “We both take risks, Shauna. We always have.”
Their eyes met then, closer than either intended. For a moment, the air between them felt fragile, like one wrong word could shatter it.
Jackie’s voice softened. “But today… we didn’t fall apart. For once, we..” she swallowed, “we worked.”
Shauna looked away, jaw tight. “Don’t make it sound like more than it was.” But her voice cracked on the last word, betraying her.
Jackie reached out before she could think better of it, fingertips brushing Shauna’s hand. Not glowing this time. Just… touch. Human.
Shauna froze, shadows rippling like startled birds. Then, slowly, her fingers curled back around Jackie’s, hesitant but deliberate.
“You scare me,” Shauna whispered, barely audible. “Not the powers. You.”
Jackie’s breath caught. “Why?”
“Because every time I get close,” Shauna said, her eyes lifting finally, raw and unguarded, “I remember what it felt like to lose you.”
For once, Jackie didn’t have an answer. She only leaned in, closing the space inch by inch, giving Shauna every chance to pull away. Shauna didn’t.
Their lips met tentatively at first, more question than kiss. But then Shauna’s shadows curled around Jackie’s back, holding her there, and Jackie’s light flared softly between them, not blinding, not burning, just warm.
When they finally pulled apart, both were breathing hard, foreheads resting together.
Jackie smiled shakily. “So… still think we don’t work?”
Shauna’s laugh was rough, almost bitter, but her hand didn’t let go. “We’re a disaster,” she said. Then, quieter: “But maybe we’re our disaster.”
The shadows and light around them settled together, not clashing this time just coexisting.
