Out of the Woods
you've been on the outside of everything for as long as you can remember. never allowed to make friends. never building anything that lasts. you're a ghost - like the specters you pretend to see. until them.
you want to save them. protect them from the chaos going on right under their noses. that's almost like loving someone. right? but what can you say, as everything comes crashing down?
8.9k words - usual boys tws (violence/gore, etc)
It was supposed to be easy. So easy you spent most of your afternoons at the start lazing in the sun on the quad, pretending this godforsaken wig doesn’t itch, letting your code run and people watching. So easy that you could sit in the back of practically any class you wanted, scrawling information in your composition notebook like you were an actual student. Like you belonged somewhere.
But you didn’t really belong anywhere, did you? Hundreds of names and factoids in your head about people who barely remember you. A grave in a town you barely remember with your name on it. You couldn’t remember the sound of your mother’s laugh or your brother’s cry. The only family you claim is a rag-tag group of criminals who found you running away from a prison cell.
And it wasn’t easy. You knew it would be a bad idea, working above the prison you were trapped in for five years, but you couldn’t have predicted this. Even on the first day on campus that mattered, you never would’ve pictured this ending.
･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .
Four Months Ago
One of the downsides of trying to find intel is that you often don’t know what you’re looking for or where it might be. In the case of digital files, this means running the same code in various places around campus, hoping to pull in something more than mediocre essays and purchase orders for office supplies. In particular, a bench just outside Brink’s office was close enough to grab the files from his computer as well as the server downstairs.
That was where you first saw them. Bob pristinely styled, curled up at the ends. T-shirt perfectly fitted. Their eyes, piercing and all-seeing, trained on the office door ahead.
Of course, you knew of them. Butcher had you memorize the names and abilities of all top 30 supes at GodU, just in case. You can’t let these cunts catch you off guard. From Golden Boy to Mason Phinster, you knew their powers, weaknesses, anything you could get online.
But reading about some powerful and attractive supe online isn’t the same as actually seeing them on campus. And it doesn’t prepare you for the way your heart skips a beat when their eyes meet yours.
It was ten days later when they spoke to you for the first time. You’d seen them a couple times since then, that same jolt of electricity when your eyes met. But this was the first time you heard their voice - gravelly, slightly teasing, warm.
“You know, I’m beginning to think you might sleep on that bench.”
“I’ve considered it, but the sun comes in at the entirely wrong angle. I think I’d wake up blind.” They cocked their head to the side, pausing in the hall like they hadn’t expected you to talk.
“Don’t let Brink catch you napping here. He’ll give you something to do - or call security.”
“That how you got your job?” You teased, sitting up a bit and tilting your laptop screen away from them. Just in case. They seemed to be joking about security, but you’d only been at this for a few weeks, and you hadn’t gathered nearly enough to get caught now. (And the thought of being sent back to the woods is enough to keep you cautious).
“No, but it’s how Professor Avalon got stuck with Bruce Stevenson as a TA.” They retorted, tucking their books under their arm. “I don’t recognize you from any of Brink’s rosters - are you a performing arts student?” The way they asked seemed to be getting at something more.
“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m like the Long Island Medium but more legit.” You bluffed - your cover story was good enough to get you through small talk with other students, and had lasted this long in the GodU systems without being flagged outright.
“Then why study here? You guys have the better library by far.”
“Better internet.” They hummed noncommittally before heading into their office, and you can’t tear your eyes from their retreating form.
You two built a strange near-friendship over the summer semester. This strange banter between two like-minded people from two very different worlds. They made fun of you for your grungey aesthetic, you made fun of them for dressing like a sneaker ad. You mocked their type-A neuroses, they pretended to scold you for your mess. You knew they had other friends - real friends, but they were the only person you’d really cared to speak to on campus. And that counted as a friend, in your book at least.
･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳
Three Months Ago
It was early August in the mid-afternoon, and you were lounging in the quad, bullshitting an assignment you’d never actually submit while your code ran.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do work. Are you communing with the dead through your laptop?” You scoffed, and rolled your eyes.
“No, I’m writing this bullshit proposal for a Brand Management class. Write a pitch for a reunion season for a reality show starring yourself.” They laughed.
And somehow, that was the last lie you had to tell Jordan that evening. By 2 am, you’d ended up on the roof of their dormitory, smoking a skinny joint and talking about your deepest fears, your dreams. Things you’d never been able to vocalize to anyone else before.
“So, you’ve never flown in a plane. Never tried sushi. Never even seen Property Brothers. What else haven’t you done?”
“Aren’t you supposed to ask people what they have done?” You retort, your feet dangling off the edge of the roof. “Which isn’t much of anything, if you’re curious.” It felt like an admission of guilt - an acknowledgement of all that doesn’t fit.
You take another drag from the joint.
“Well, I’ve never skydived. Or driven a motorcycle.” They said, taking the joint from your fingers easily.
“I did learn to drive a motorcycle last year.” You said. Learn was a polite way of saying Kimiko and Frenchie had tried giving you instructions in an empty parking lot until you figured it out. They gave you this look - half impressed, half disbelieving. “Well, I successfully drove a motorcycle on a road, so that counts.” You qualified with a light laugh. They laughed with you and your heart skipped at how right it all felt.
“How can you sit that close to the edge and not be scared shitless?” They asked.
“I trust myself.” You answered simply. “Besides, aren’t you like, part-time invincible? Are you afraid of heights?” The nervous huff they made said it all, and you suppressed a laugh.
“C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t have irrational fears.” They countered, bumping your shoulder lightly. You knew you could brush this question off - if you wanted. But you didn’t want to.
You wanted to let them in. Let them see you.
“I’m afraid I’ll forget everyone important to me.” You admitted in a rush, staring at the knees of your jeans. “That I’ll be sitting around one day and realize the people I care about are only blurry, fading memories that I’ll never get back.”
When you dared to look up at them, you didn’t see mockery or false pity. You just saw... understanding.
“I won’t let you forget me.” They said, in the kind of serious way that was only allowed in the moonlight.
And then, looking at them through the sweet smoke swirling around you both, you kissed them. Gently brushing their bob out of their face, it was soft and a little awkward, and you were surprised at your own boldness, but you wanted to fall into it. Into them. Their hands rose to tangle in your hair and you hoped they couldn’t tell it was a wig as you leaned in, wrapping your arms around their neck and letting them press you against the cold concrete wall. You could feel every inch of them - and it was beautiful.
You never wanted this night to end.
But it ended too soon. Some freshman came bursting onto the roof, the door slamming open and startling you both. Jordan pulled back and shifted immediately - whether out of fear for your safety or fear of being caught was unclear.
They didn’t bring up the kiss the next time they saw you outside of Brink’s office, but they didn’t stop making snide comments, the kind that makes you feel seen rather than judged. And you didn’t stop returning them. And for awhile, that was enough.
･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .
Ten Weeks Ago
Falling for Jordan over the summer semester made sense. At least - it was slow enough that you were ready for it. The night you kissed them felt right. The banter you two had, the almost friendship that you’d been building... it was predictable. Warm. Not easy, because nothing about Jordan was ever easy.
But Marie? Falling for Marie was like being caught in a sudden summer rain.
You were outside Brink’s office when she arrived. Moving with the kind of determination that is only ever earned, she pushed her way into the professor’s office, demanding Jordan un-reject her from the course. You could hear raised voices, and you stood to leave (you did not feel like seeing that particular face again). But as you turned to leave, you walked right into her, your phone and notebook going flying.
“Oh, shit! I’m sorry - hold on -” you started, reaching for your things and looking around to see if she’d dropped anything. And you looked up, straight into her eyes, and everything slowed, narrowing to only her.
It didn’t feel the same as falling for Jordan, but you didn’t fall any less hard. Your lips parted, but for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice anymore.
“Here.” She murmured, handing you your notebook and phone.
“Thanks.” You mumbled, trying to regain some level of composure as you watched her leave.
You were done for.
That wasn’t the only conversation you had with her. You’d set up camp at a small table outside, watching the files transfer from their ‘secure’ location to your off-site storage, when she sat down across from you.
“Did they reject you from crime fighting too?” You looked up to see Marie and found yourself rendered speechless. Again. Your heart raced as you tried to find your voice. “I, uh, I’ve seen you in a couple of the performing arts courses.” She explained.
“Who, Jordan?” You squeaked. Like you’ve never spoken to a girl before. “Uh, no. Ghosts aren’t exactly helpful on the battlefield. I’ve always known where I stood. I just like pissing them off by hanging around.”
She considered you for a moment. Not searching for a lie, just reading you like a book. "Don't you want to make a difference?"
"Who says I'm not?" You shouldn't have said that, you know that, but Marie doesn't question it, just nods like she understands. And the way she looked at you - like she saw you and she liked what she saw - reminded you so much of the way it felt on the rooftop with Jordan that you felt dizzy. “You don’t need anyone else to tell you you’re a hero. You’ve got to know it yourself.”
“It would help if everyone else knew it too.” She said, a certain softness in her voice that made it clear she wasn’t just talking about Jordan or Brink.
“The ones who matter will know.” Your eyes flicked up to hers and you couldn’t look away. You saw something there - more than appreciation, more than kindness - it was understanding. Like she could see past every wall you put up and didn’t mind the mess she saw.
You almost kissed her.
In a couple months, you’ll wish you did.
You felt like a stalker after that, because each time you saw either of them around campus was recorded in your mind, like something you could play back on demand. The days Jordan would pass you in the quad. The evenings you’d walk past Marie on your long walk home. The time you hurried past the two of them with a group of supes you only knew from your studying and you tried to ignore the jealousy that coiled around your heart like a vine and squeezed. The feeling of not-belonging that taints everything around you. Each of these moments was burned into your memory. Maybe it was your subconscious holding tight to the scraps you had just in case. You’d lost too many people in the black-hole of your mind.
･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .
Two Months Ago
And then Brink and Luke died.
You weren’t outside Brink’s that day or even in the quad, so you were spared seeing the carnage. But that didn’t change how guilty you felt. You didn’t know Sam personally, but you knew of him. You knew of everyone at the woods.
Your powers were an enigma to Vought - hard to define, harder to control. They swore up and down that they weren’t punishing you for it. But you weren’t allowed around the other patients, despite no history of violence. Your family thought you were dead. All because the lab coats couldn’t put a nice little bow on your abilities.But none of that matters now. You’d always known that the top student had a brother in the woods, and you could only assume that Luke was told what your family was told. That he was dead. Maybe he targeted Brink because he found out about The Woods on his own. Maybe it was some freak accident. Maybe he really was just crazy or whatever other slander Vought spewed.
That didn’t change the facts.
You were supposed to be able to bring Sam home to his brother. You were supposed to be able to undo some of the pain that Vought had wrought. And you were supposed to be able to actually bring Richard fucking Brinkerhoff to justice. Instead, the motherfucker dies a hero and another hero died needlessly.
You knew you should probably offer your condolences to Jordan. But you didn’t know how to start that kind of conversation and you had no idea what to do with all your anger other than throw yourself back into your mission with a kind of fervor that was supposed to take your mind off everything but never quite did.
You watched, as Marie was paraded about as the savior of the school when you could see she still didn’t believe it. You watched, as Jordan withdrew. You wondered what really happened in Luke’s final moments.
Who was the hero. Who was the villain. Was it ever that easy?
And still, you were on the outside. Watching.
･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .
6 Weeks Ago
You aren’t sure what brought you to that party. A need for distraction, maybe. That was certainly why you kept downing shots, even as your vision fuzzed.
It would have been much less weird waking up naked between your two very hot crushes if you could remember much of the night before. Jordan had invited you to dance, drinks were flowing, Marie came over, more dances were had, and it blurred into a mess of hands and mouths and ... other body parts. You don’t have the words to describe how it felt seeing the sunlight filter onto their faces, the warmth of their bodies against your own. It was a kind of intimacy you’d never felt before, never thought you could feel. You felt Jordan subconsciously pull you closer and you let your eyes flutter shut again. You wanted to embed this moment in your memory. You don’t know how long you lay there, with your eyes shut, just soaking up the closeness of the early morning in this bedroom you didn’t quite recognize.
A chorus of “Hello!” “Oh, so sorry!” “We’re leaving!” “Sorry!”s echoed through the room as Cate and Andre (Marie and Jordan’s friends) awkwardly entered and exited quickly. The three of you shared awkward glances as reality came crashing down.
“Uh, this is going to sound really fucked up, but I don’t remember anything from last night.” Marie’s voice broke the silence after she pulled on her bra, and both you and Jordan let out sighs of relief.
“Oh, thank God. Neither do I.” Jordan said. You remember some, and a strange, sick feeling curls in your gut. Especially considering Jordan’s tolerance compared to yours. But you shook that thought off and reached for your underwear.
“Did we...” A shy, yet pleased smile stretched across Marie’s face, and Jordan gave her a pointed look
“Seems like it.” You said softly. Hey, you might not ever be able to get a degree out of this, but this has to be what college is really about. The two of them were intoxicating, like a drug you never wanted to quit. You’d been on the outskirts for so long, watching everyone live real lives through locked windows, and you finally, finally got to have something of your own.
And then, you got a phone call. Butcher. Seems like reality really isn’t pulling any punches this morning. Fuck. You stepped out.
“What’s up? Kinda busy here.” You hissed into the phone.
“You said you wanted intel if any of those names popped up in our files, right?” What you wanted was the assurance that, if needed, you could get your friends out of trouble. The right information at the right time could have saved Luke’s life. You didn’t want any more blood on your hands.
“What did you find?” You muttered finally.
“The girl, the one you like, she’s a POI. Cardosa is apparently very intrigued by her.” Your blood ran cold, and you made your first mistake.
“Shit! Marie?” You whispered worriedly, praying you were wrong. How much time did you have before The Woods was going to come for her? Could you even save her before ... “What exactly did it say?”
“I’m not an audiobook, you can read the files on your own damn time.”
“Be that way.” You scoffed. “What else?”
“There was another name that kept popping up - Cate Dunlap? Seems she was helping with some of the work happening in The Woods.” Your stomach churned, and you made your second mistake.
“What did it say about Cate?” You hissed, fisting and unfisting your hands in frustration.
“She’s mainly in the patient files for the cunt that blew himself up?”
Third mistake. “Luke?” You asked, your voice slightly strained at this point. Butcher hummed in affirmation. “Got it. Alright. I’ll keep you in the loop.” You tried to pull yourself back together, tried to figure out how everything got so out of hand.
“Please - I want a heads up before you bring your crazy little friends here.” “Get over yourself, they’re fine.” You snapped, exasperated.
“Whatever you say, champ. See you later.”
“See ya.”
You need to get Jordan and Marie up to speed and then you can figure this out. You weren’t close with either of them, especially not Marie, but you swore to yourself you’d protect them. You couldn’t save Luke. You’d been living for months on top of your old prison, and you haven’t saved any of them. But you can, maybe, keep Jordan and Marie safe. You took a steadying breath and went back into the room, expecting anything from an awkward silence to a full on make out session between the two of them. What you weren't expecting was a death glare from Jordan and a confused and hurt look from Marie.
“Who was that?” Jordan asked. Their voice was cold - deadly. you shivered involuntarily, and you felt your heart rate spike.
“Long story. I can explain everything in a bit, we just need -” You know there’s exhaustion in your voice, even you can hear it.
“No. What the hell was that?” They said, a harshness in their voice you hadn’t heard before. you blinked at them, confused.
“A phone call?”
“About my friends? What the hell are you up to?”
You’d think you'd be prepared for this version of this conversation - people don’t like being lied to, even if it was important. But you never imagined you'd get this phone call in this situation. You took a deep breath, trying to figure out the best way to play this. If you can’t convince them that you're on their side, you'll basically be feeding them to Vought yourself.
“I asked a friend of mine to look into something for you. I - just, let’s go somewhere safe, and we can talk, yeah?” you said pleadingly.
“No. I’ve ignored your red flags for too long. You show up out of nowhere, but you’re always around, and now you’re on the phone talking about Luke? I don’t trust you. Especially not now.” Your heart stopped. Jordan was basically your best friend. You weren't delusional enough to think that you were theirs, but you didn’t really have friends. Jordan knows things about you - real things - that no one else knows. They were your first real kiss. You could feel yourself start to spiral, the fear of losing them rising in your throat like bile. Not there was anything to lose, the mean little voice in the back of your head reminded you. You were barely even their friend. Marie - you’ve had one conversation. Just because you’re a sheltered little girl with nothing else to lose doesn’t mean they have any reason to trust you.
“You don’t understand, just let -” You were almost begging and you cursed yourself for the way your voice was breaking.
“You put my friends in danger! What else is there to understand?” They were almost yelling, and they took a deep breath, lowering their volume. You tried not to think about the fact that you weren't included in that list. “I brought you in, and you’re -” They stopped, glaring at you. Marie was still silent, just sort of watching this play out. If Jordan and you weren’t friends, Marie and you were... nothing. Other than last night, you’d only had one real conversation with her. “Get out. Don’t contact us. I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s clear you know more than you’ve been saying, and I won’t believe anything you say now. Shit’s crazy, and you’re the only piece that doesn’t fit here.” It was like they twisted the knife into your gut, reminding you that you were still on the outside. You’d always be on the outside.
“Shit’s crazy?! Just let me -” You pleaded again and they shifted to their male form, stepping forward.
“Get. Out.” They repeated darkly. Your eyes flashed orange briefly - never a good sign. Your powers, undefinable by the best Vought doctors, weren’t something you could easily define, much less control. Especially running on almost no sleep, nursing a blinding hangover, and your heart pounding like it’s seconds from bursting.
You sent an apologetic look in Marie’s direction and ignored the guilt sitting like poison in your gut when she turned away uncomfortably. God, you hope she doesn’t get hurt. Your stomach twisted at the thought of her being poked and prodded, treated as less than human, because of her powers. And it would be your fault.
But you spun on your heel and walked away, not allowing emotion to show on your face. Each step felt like you were lowering them into their graves. you were oscillating between white hot fury and stomach-wrenching guilt. Shit’s crazy? You mean, like the freaking research facility under this school that your late mentor supervised! But maybe if you told them more sooner, they would trust you. You were too afraid of being recaptured by Vought to say anything, and now it was too late.
･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .
One Month Ago
And so, you were alone again. Back to before Jordan ever spoke to you. Back before Marie looked your way.
Everything was back to how it was before, but it all felt hollow. You had tasted something beautiful, and then you were told it was poison. You knew the boys could see the change in you, but they didn’t dare ask. Despite everything you’d all been through, they still looked at you a bit like the crazed escapee from the woods they’d found two years back, a socially stunted kid unaware of her own power. And you weren’t inclined to explain the whirlwind of the last few months.
And then, something snapped. The tension that had been building for months sparked, and no one was ready for the fire.
Alarms blared through the library, and panic surges in your veins. You’re weaving through hallways, only focused on getting off campus before you’re sent away. The scared little kid inside you is sure that this is all for you - all to get you back in that cell. Someone talked, someone found out, and now...
But you make it outside and there’s bodies everywhere. Too many bodies. You see Jordan and Marie and other supes fighting patients in sweatsuits that you know too well. The air smells metallic and your stomach lurched. Then, you see their faces. Faces you know. Faces that could have been your friends, if you’d been allowed to make friends in there. Faces with names, with favorites, with dreams.
Charles “Charlie” Greenburg. Favorite movie; Finding Nemo. He’s not wearing his glasses - did someone take them? There’s a part of you that wants to find them, give them back like that would make any damned difference.
Jessica Everett. Loved Macaroni and Cheese. She would hum in her sleep. There was blood and something else matted in her hair and you had to turn away.
Brad Johnson. Leah McEvoy. Rosa Martinez. Patrick - what was his last name? You would trade off checking out different Warrior Cats books from the tiny library. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. You were supposed to save them. You were supposed to get them out, so you weren’t the only one- so maybe the sick guilt that burned in your stomach might dissipate. But they’re all dead, and you see Jordan and Marie themselves, fighting the last of them. You’d only seen videos of Marie’s power before. You weren’t prepared for the blood to rise from each of the corpses, forming an array of knives aimed at Chelsea Prentiss - the brunette who would cheer loudly every time the cafeteria served iced tea.
You feel nausea rising, your eyes flashing, your hands shaking. You could feel your own control slipping and you ran. You ran before you saw the flash of a blue cape, before you heard the snap of hand cuffs and the rumble of Vought armored vans taking them away.
You didn’t even realize they were gone until you saw the news that night. Not that anyone said it outright, but you can read between the lines. Vought has them both. And their friends. It wasn’t even a question that you’d start looking for them. You poured over shipping records, wrote new code to try to find anything digital that you could. Anything to find them. Anything to keep from losing them too.
･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .
Today
And now, here you were. Months of feelings you’d been too scared to face. Weeks of frantic searching. And you were walking away from them. Walking away from your teammates, away from the cells that you know hold Jordan and Marie. You hadn’t complained when Butcher told you that you couldn’t help with the rescue - you understood his reasoning - but you weren’t expecting the way your heart seemed to ache as you walked with Butcher towards the server room. You knew why Butcher wanted you with him to get the intel. This was your mission - and you were the handiest with a computer. You had a job to do. And you trusted your team. You knew Annie and Kimiko would be able to get everyone out and into Frenchie’s van easy.
Everything was going fine, better than fine, honestly, until BANG! Pain exploded across your left shoulder. A late-night guard had changed his patrol, and you hadn’t moved fast enough. Your vision tunneled slightly, a moment of blinding, burning pain, and you were still putting one foot in front of the other. You have a job to do. You push your body harder, shoving your way into the server room with Butcher, and leaning against the door, panting heavily.
“C’mon kid. Let’s go.” Getting the job done was second nature to you at this point - you could do it with one hand tied behind your back. Or, in this case, with one shoulder screaming in pain.
The virus was launched within 4 minutes of the bullet hitting you, and you and Butcher were in his rickety sedan within another 2. You folded a towel and pressed it to your shoulder, hard.
“You’re paying.” You announced.
“It’s your mission.” Butcher retorted, never taking his eyes from the road.
“We got good intel! And I was the one who got shot.”
“Still. We would’ve hit this one remotely if it didn’t have... precious cargo.” He turned to look at you, just to give you that smug ass look. If Butcher wasn’t driving, and you weren’t bleeding, you’d have punched him.
“Fuck off. And eyes on the road.”
“I’m not paying.” He repeated.
“Just drive. I’ll give M.M. his 20 bucks, if it means that much to you.”
･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .
By the time you both were pulling into the hideout, you wish you could say you were more preoccupied with your arm than with who was waiting behind those doors. But you knew, deep down, that your heart wasn’t thudding out of your chest because of the bullet currently lodged in your flesh. The last time you’d spoken to Jordan or Marie was that morning, and you had a million questions about it and every moment before and every moment after. You wanted to apologize, you wanted them to apologize, you were furious, you were relieved...
If there was anything you knew, you knew you loved them. You didn’t know what to do with that, what that meant, how they felt, anything other than the way you feel when you’re with them. And the gnawing terror that came when they were gone.
You slid your wallet along the counter when you came in, watching the worn leather hit Frenchie’s arm.
“The tax.”
“It’s not a tax, it’s a bet. One that you three seem intent on losing.” M.M. retorted, snatching the wallet from Frenchie’s fingers and extracting a crumpled 20.
“You don’t pay us when we don’t get shot.”
“When was the last time that happened?”
“Can someone just help me get this shit out? Fuckin’ night guard changed his patrol, caught me on my way into the server room.” You were trying to sound annoyed and not whiny - you are a supe, after all - but you were still pressing a dirty towel to your own shoulder.
“You got the intel, right?” You rolled your eyes and flipped the USB into Frenchie’s waiting hands.
“It’s all there, and the virus went off without a hitch. The Koreans will probably take credit within the day.” Someone coughed, and you turned to see Marie stepping forward hesitantly.
“Um, I can help get that out, if you want.” She said hesitantly. The first time she’s spoken to you in months. Your mouth goes dry, like it’s the first time you’re meeting all over again.
“Right. Yeah, actually, please.” You mumbled, holding your breath as her fingers came within centimeters of your skin, causing your heart rate to spike slightly. You wanted to take her hand, hold it to your chest, revel in the fact that she was alive, and safe, and back with you. It was hard to keep from remembering the night you barely remember, the drunken mess of bliss. You tried not to wonder if she remembered it now. She was done much faster than you would’ve liked, stepping back and giving you a soft half-smile. “Thanks, Marie. I can, uh, answer any questions you guys have now. We should all be safe here.” You ran your hand through your buzzed hair, rubbing the back of your head nervously.
“You better.” You heard Jordan scoff, and you suppressed your irritation. They could have had answers weeks ago, if they had gotten off of their high horse for two minutes and answered the fucking phone.
You took a moment to actually look at your new guests. The little blonde (who you knew was Marie’s roommate) Emma was lounging on the beaten down couch, somehow looking both anxious and comfortable at the same time. Andre Anderson, former #2 and close friend of Golden Boy, was standing near the back of the room, clearly apprehensive about this entire situation. He also looked a bit unshaven and underweight, like whatever facility they’d been in had taken a lot out of him. Marie had made her way back into the living room, perched on the arm of the couch, a concerned and tired look in her eyes. And Jordan was in their female form, watching the entire scene with furious anxiety.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions. But what’s most important is that you’re safe here. A computer virus known to be used by a North Korean group was kicked off at the facility where you were being held, which kept this escape underwraps. They won’t even know where to start looking.” Hughie explained.
“By they...”
“Vought.” Annie filled in helpfully. But Jordan’s eyes were glued to you, practically glaring a hole through your head.
“This doesn’t answer the million dollar question, which is why the hell were you spying on us in the first place? Why were you at GodU in the first place?” Jordan snapped. They’d clearly been waiting to ask this, the betrayal burning in their eyes just as it had been six weeks ago.
“You cunts are not important enough for that.” Butcher snapped, irritation and amusement clear in his tone. Jordan shifted, stepping closer to Butcher.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jordan growled, and Butcher stepped forward, the dark glint in his eyes making it clear he had been waiting for this. You may not have told him the full story of what happened, but he saw the look in your eyes when you asked him to look out for them, the pain in your eyes after the fallout, he was there for all the sleepless nights you spent trying desperately to find them.
“Oi, chill out, kid.” Butcher chuckled, clearly not backing down. “It means that the only reason you’re here is because she likes your sorry ass. It would’ve saved us a lot of trouble if she never met any of you.”
“Saved you a lot of trouble? We were prisoners for weeks!”
“If you’d actually listened to her, none of this would have happened.” Jordan balked at that, finally rendered speechless. They stepped back slightly.
“We weren’t spying on you guys. We were spying on Vought.” Hughie stepped in before Butcher and Jordan got carried away.
“She was camped outside my office for months.” Jordan hissed.
“Not your office. Brink’s office.” You said tiredly, waiting for them to understand. Jordan quirked an eyebrow, like you were being pedantic.
“Where I worked.”
“Not everything is about you, hotshot.”
“The files in Brink’s computer could only be accessed by an I.P. address in the correct range, and the relevant ports were only open for seconds at a time. By sitting there to run my code, I got everything I needed with a few clicks.”
“Who the hell are you?” They asked incredulously, and you couldn’t hide the hurt that flashed across your face.
“I’m the same person, I just... I was undercover.” You finished lamely, knowing you were avoiding the question but not knowing how to answer without your whole sad life story tumbling out behind it.
“That's not-”
“Where were we? It didn’t look like the woods.” Emma interrupted, and your head snapped to her.
“You know about The Woods?” The question flew from your lips before you could stop it. You knew she wasn’t a patient there - so how does she even ...
“It’s a long story.” Marie filled in, and you opened your mouth to ask another billion questions before cutting yourself off. It doesn’t matter.
“So, you’re the one who called her.” Jordan addressed Butcher directly. “Why? What did you know?” Jordan demanded.
“She told me to call her when I found something out. I did.” He said simply, like he was daring Jordan to question him.
“Look, do you have any more urgent questions, or can we all get some sleep?” Despite Marie’s help in removing the bullet fragments and stopping the bleeding, your shoulder was still in pain, aching and burning. And you were exhausted.
Jordan begrudgingly agreed to head to bed when they saw Emma’s eyes drooping. You could still see the questions spinning behind their eyes, and you knew you wouldn’t be escaping their interrogation for more than a night.
･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .
Even though you were exhausted, it was only a few hours before you found yourself awake again. You splashed cold water on your face as an attempt to ground yourself before brewing some coffee. Every move you made felt stiff and awkward, the pain in your shoulder more pronounced in the morning light. But you settled in at your laptop in a side room, a steaming mug of slightly-too-strong instant coffee by your side.
“I know there’s more you’re not telling me.” Jordan said
“Jumping right in this morning, are we?”
“You knew about The Woods this whole time. You didn’t think that might be... relevant information for me?”
“When did you find out about The Woods, Jordan? Did you feel the need to loop me in immediately? Or did you think, maybe, that that information would cause me more harm than good, and conclude that it would be best to keep me out of the loop?” They said nothing. “That’s what I thought.”
Marie came in at this point, sipping her own mug of coffee. “Morning.” she mumbled, looking between us. “How do you guys have the energy to argue?”
“We’re not arguing.” You both said at the same time, but your posture said otherwise. Your shoulders were up by your ears and Jordan’s jaw was set. You rolled your shoulders back, attempting to shake off the tension that you could feel radiating from within. Because, despite every part of you screaming to keep your secrets secret, you knew you owed them something.
“You’re out of excuses now. So spill.” Jordan’s voice broke the silence, but they sounded more tired than angry at this point.
“Jordan.” Marie admonished. But then she looks back at you, in that same searching way she had months ago, and you still aren’t sure what she’s looking for.
“Fine. Why did you have people looking into us? And when?” The words seemed forced, like they were trying very hard to be nice. Or what passes for nice with Jordan.
“They weren’t-” You sighed. “Look, we’re not some massive underground rebellion. We’re just doing our best from this...” You tried to think of a way to describe your current hideout/home. “Place. I would run my code and upload tons of files to a remote server. They, mainly Hughie, honestly, poor dude, would sort through the files by hand, looking for anything useful. I just wanted to make sure I could warn you guys if there was anything worrying. Especially after Luke died, I...” You paused. How do you explain the mess of guilt and worry and love and fear you were feeling when you burst into Butcher’s ‘office’? Shaking like a leaf, rambling about what-if scenarios, making him swear he’d call you if any of their names came up in the files?
“Spit it out.”
“I was freaked out, okay! We didn’t know everything, but, fuck, I mean... he killed Brink. We could sort of guess at why.” That made Jordan recoil, and you curse yourself internally. Why can’t you think before you speak?!
“What the actual fuck do you mean by that?” They spat, and you knew you couldn’t avoid the truth anymore. You looked to the ceiling, trying to find the courage to say words you’d never actually had to say aloud.
My family believes I died at five. I’ve been a lab rat for as long as I can remember and they still don’t know what I can do. I was always on the outside, watching everyone else through glass and distance, always watching, never allowed to participate. I saw so much and couldn’t help anyone and now they’re all gone but you two. You’re the first people who really saw me. And I’m terrified of losing you.
“It means I’ve known Sam was alive the whole time.” You said finally. “I can’t say I knew him because I didn’t know anyone there, but ... I knew of him.”
“Are you saying you had files from The Woods before Luke died? Proof of Sam-” They were losing whatever thread of control they had, starting to pace.
“Yes, but it-”
“You could’ve-”
“We were-”
You and Jordan were getting dangerously close to a shouting match, your volume rising to match theirs each time.
“Stop!” Marie yelled finally, effectively silencing you both. “Jordan, if you want answers, you have to let her speak.”
They were back to outright glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over their chest. But they stopped yelling, and gave you a stiff nod. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the tsunami of guilt and fear inside.
“We were trying to bring him home. We were going to bring them all home.” You said finally, rubbing the back of your head nervously. You swallowed. “But we had to be careful.”
“Why? So your criminal friends in there wouldn’t get arrested? People’s lives-” They started get worked up again.
“No!” You yelled back. “Because if we weren’t careful, I’d be back in that fucking cell! Alone.” Your words hung in the air, leaving everyone reeling. And I would’ve bled out with the rest of them. That part you couldn’t say aloud, the carnage from that day burned into your mind as clearly as the painting of the forest from your cell.You slumped back into the chair, suddenly winded from the whole conversation. Like that one admission had taken everything out of you. And maybe it did.
“I escaped from The Woods. A few years back.” You said, once you were able to. “With them.” You gestured towards the rest of the hideout, the only family you’ve known. “I was in Vought custody for most of my life.”
“I was in the system starting at twelve.” Marie admitted softly. “They sent me to Red River.” Your eyes flicked over to her in surprise.
“I didn’t... I’m so sorry, Marie. I...I was sent to a children’s facility in Ithaca first, then some lab further upstate, and I landed at The Woods when they still couldn’t figure me out.” You scoffed. “It’s bullshit! They’re scared of us, so they study us. So they can make us afraid of them, like they’re afraid of us. But it doesn’t work.”
“Figure you out? What’s so complicated about ghosts?” Jordan said, and you had to fight to keep from laughing.
“Ghosts aren’t real.” You said with a small smile. “I needed something ... straightforward for my cover, and cold reading isn’t that hard to learn.” For a brief moment, you were worried that would make them angrier. Then they laughed. An actual, genuine laugh. And it almost felt like forgiveness. You couldn’t help but smile in return.
“To be quite honest, my powers are as much of a mystery to me as they are to Vought.”
“How’d you end up on their radar?” Jordan asked, their voice much gentler than before.
“My parents thought the voices I heard were just imaginary friends. Until the information they were giving me helped solve a cold case in our area. The news report mentioned a precocious local five year old who said she learned of the body’s location from the victim herself. A Vought doctor showed up the next week to take me in for testing.” You swallowed hard. “I never saw my family again.”
“Fuck.” Jordan said quietly. Marie’s squeezed your shoulder comfortingly and you couldn’t help but take her hand in your own.
“With all the testing and the medication, I honestly have no idea what I have done in the past, or what I can do. I haven’t even tried to use my powers since I got out.” You admitted. “But I’ve been making a difference in my own way. Or, I’m trying to.”
Jordan and Marie exchanged a look.
“We want in.” Marie said simply, and you couldn’t help but grin.
･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .
One Year Later
The journey may have been painful and complicated, and the pain certainly didn’t end with that one sentence. Losing Cate and Sam to Vought and the supe supremacists, losing Andre to his illness... it took its toll. But you three found a rhythm, found refuge in each other and in your friends. Emma, Butcher, Frenchie, Kimiko, Annie, Hughie... you’d found a family. The Boys even took on a new mission - or rather, an addendum to the main mission. Find Annabeth Moreau. But you all knew that would take time. More than the year you’d all been on the run together, that’s for sure.
You were preparing yourself, in your own way, for the two of them to end up together, officially. They were perfect for each other - and you were pretty sure that you didn’t fit in that equation. And you didn’t want to push anything. You had friends, real friends. And even Emma had warmed up to you quickly. Your dull, grayscale life was gaining color, one hue at a time, and you were terrified that you would mess it up. Send everything careening back to darkness. Until one night, when the three of you were drinking and cuddling. And (in a manner that was becoming alarmingly predictable) Jordan turned to Marie to get her nod of approval before speaking.
“We have a proposal.”
“God, you don’t have to make it sound so clinical.” Marie admonished.
“Hey, proposals aren’t always -”
“Guys?” You said hesitantly, entirely unsure what they were talking about. Your heart thudded against your chest.
“We just want to get out. For a few hours.”
But the way they’re looking at you doesn’t feel like just getting out. There’s an energy, an excitement in the air, and you genuinely aren’t sure how to feel about it. What are they up to?
“You don’t have to ask my permission,” You said lightly, looking away before your heart exploded in your chest.
“We want you to come with us, idiot.” Jordan bumped your shoulder lightly. And there it was again - that electric energy that you weren’t sure if you wanted to run towards or away from.
“It won’t be as fun without you.” Marie added.
The old you wouldn’t have believed her. You live long enough as a ghost, it becomes hard to believe that your existence actually matters to other people. Besides, you aren’t blind - you can see the way they get lost in each other. The way Jordan turns to Marie to get her opinion on everything. The way Marie gravitates to Jordan, like two planets orbiting closer and closer. But it’s rare that the two of them do anything without you these days. All it takes is a small gesture from Jordan or a raised eyebrow from Marie, and you’re trailing behind them in your worn hoodie and converse.
But this time feels different than any other time in the past year. There’s this electricity that seems to be flowing between the three of you, a current you’re more than willing to get swept up in.
“Alright. Lead the way, you weirdos.” Your tone laced with affection, you pull on your shoes and jacket.
The other thing about hanging out with Jordan and Marie was that they never made you feel outside. Not since you’d brought them in. Jordan will murmur explanations for inside jokes or pop culture references you don’t understand. Marie makes you both coffee in the morning. And even when they have to go on missions without you (which isn’t uncommon - despite Jordan’s insistence, you still can’t bring yourself to try using your powers again, which makes you a liability on the field - M.M’s words), both their eyes search for you as soon as they get back. Like they were trying to get back to you, and you alone. So it doesn’t feel weird to balance on the curb as you walk alongside them, your pinky finger hooked into Marie’s like a promise of safety. Of connection.
“This way,” Jordan murmured, leading you both on a side path into a wooded area of the local park.
You know this place. This is your place. From before everything. When all you had were Butcher, Kimiko, and Frenchie. Sometimes Hughie or M.M. When all of them looked at you like a broken little kid. Because you were. Closed off. Unapproachable. Scribbling away in your notebook like it could take away your loneliness. You’d sneak out here at night, snagging one of Frenchie’s joints and climbing up a specific tree near a small creek. Just because you could.
“How-” You mumbled, looking around the small clearing like you might’ve left behind a sign of your existence. Like your 17 year old self must be sitting up in the tree.
“We figured -”
“With the partially buried roaches and chewed pen cap on the ground-” You laughed at that.
“Uh, yeah, I spent a lot of time out here a couple years back.” You supplied, feeling strangely touched.
That’s the thing about being seen. It’s a soft, quiet thing. Tugging at your hand, willing you to let it happen.
You scrambled up the tree, situating yourself on the branch that had always felt a little big when you sat here alone. But Jordan and Marie followed, sitting at your side like they belonged there.
Jordan’s hand found your hip. You steadied yourself with a hand on each of their thighs, tracing patterns on their skin as you caught your balance. Marie leaned into you, her chin perched on your shoulder.
“I think I’m falling in love, and I’m fucking terrified,” You hadn’t meant to say it aloud - a whispered confession meant only for the woods. But before you really knew what was happening, Marie was pressing her fingers into your jaw, turning your head so she could press her lips to yours.
Jordan’s hand was steady, warm, grounding on your hip as your eyes fluttered shut, as you leaned into Marie with a kind of relief you hadn't been anticipating. Your fingers dug into her thigh slightly as you leaned in closer, your lips parting as soon as her tongue traced your bottom lip. And then you could taste her - all warmth and sunshine and the boxed wine you'd been drinking earlier.
She's pulling away too soon, her hand tracing your face like you’re something precious.
“We kind of had an ulterior motive for asking you to come out here with us.” Jordan confessed in a murmur, their grip on you tightening.
You should have a quip. Something sarcastic or witty to say. But you can only hum, still reeling from Marie. Marie kissed you.
“We were the only two that hadn’t kissed yet.” Marie added. “And we didn’t want to start a relationship that was unfair.” The statement felt so absurd, so out of left field that you couldn't even think of what to say. You didn't even realize they were asking you a question until Jordan jumped in.
"So... you gonna keep us waiting?"
"Huh?" You felt incredibly slow, blinking at them owlishly.
"Will you be our girlfriend?" Marie said, slowly but not condescendingly. Like she knew how much this was to process. Not just one, but two people wanting you. Wanting to be yours. And she probably did understand. She’d been alone almost as long as you had, and she’d been fighting for her place in ways you never could. And for a moment, you're amazed by her bravery. By the way she'd kissed you like she knew what you wanted.
“I, yes, of course, I-” Jordan cut off your stammering with another kiss. Needier, hungrier than the first time you kissed, gripping your face in both their hands, like they wouldn’t care if they fell out of the tree. Maybe they didn’t. They are invincible like this, but they felt so soft holding you. And now it’s Marie keeping you grounded. And you need her there as Jordan continues kissing you like they might die if they stop. “Jor-” You’re gasping into their mouth, your grip on Marie (your girlfriend - you can’t help the way your heart stutters at the word) tightening.
Something had settled within you, as the three of you ran, giggling and tripping, back to your hideout.
You still slept in a dirty back room, but now your bed was warmer. You still drank instant coffee, but it tasted better off your partners’ lips. Your life was still hard, but it was bright. It was full of love and light. And it was yours.
And you’d fight to keep it alive.
･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .
an: ive been working on this story idea since we saw the last episode of season 1!! but the new trailer inspired me. i debated when and how to post this, but i decided on posting it now! pls pls pls give it some love because i worked hard on it! and its defo the longest single post ive ever made
