tomorrow rogers squad
wanderlust is a funny thing, she thinks, waiting in the airport to board her plane back home to new york. she had spent a couple weeks in france to visit eloise and bother jason before she decided it was, finally, time to head home.
despite everything she’s said about the last two years being the best of her life (they were), she really does miss having a phone and reception everywhere and to be able to talk to her friends whenever she wants. she misses new york pizza and the new york skyline and she misses her dad’s shepherd’s pie and she misses her bed. her bed is probably one of the things she misses the most during her travels, and despite the charmings’ tendency to overcompensate and give her the softest bed in their kingdom (jason had said that), honestly, skye misses her bed.
new york is just as she remembers it, from the last day she had spent there packing before up and leaving for two years. she sees her dad every so often, when he’s on missions for the avengers and they’re in the same area.
but, she misses her brother the most.
she misses how they used to argue all the time, and how she had to cook for him, and how she would force him to learn how to make a sandwich, and how she used to make his hair different colors and how he could always make her laugh. and how warm his hugs always were.
she puts in her earbuds when she gets her seat on the plane, red hair tied up into a ponytail and she chooses the playlist of songs that she had stolen from his laptop before she left.
she can’t wait to see her brother.
--
when she lands, she grabs her suitcase, thankfully it was one of the first, before hopping in a taxi and heading home. despite wanting to surprise her brother, she really needs a shower from that long as fuck flight and maybe some food. she makes microwaveable macaroni and cheese as her first meal back in new york, damp towel slung around her shoulders as she listens to the beep. it’s nice to be home, she thinks, shoveling the pasta down her throat as soon as it’s cooled enough for her to not scald her tongue.
she lets herself indulge in being home for a while longer, swigging out of the milk carton in the fridge and helping herself to one of the tied up chip bags in the pantry, wondering if her dad was even home or if she had the house to herself for a little bit. she had told him she was coming back but no one else knew.
once she’s run out of things to occupy herself with, skye puts on some makeup, changes into short and a loose tshirt and slinging a little bag over her shoulder, stuffing everything she would need into it -- her wallet, checking to make sure she had money, her brother’s souvenirs, and the cute little polaroid camera keychain she had bought for sebastian -- before heading out to stark tower.
her father had clued her in on everything she had missed while traveling the world, everything about her brother going to their uncle tony and learning about the functions and the dealings of all the iron men suits and whatnot, and she almost hopes he’s made her some gadget to play with, but he doesn’t know she’s coming back, no one does really, so she shoos those hopes out the window.
--
it doesn’t take long to get to the tower, a popular tourist attraction meaning that almost everything pointed her in that direction anyway, even having a subway stop named after it and she glances up, remembering when she used to play with her brother up top.
she’s let in almost immediately, knowing her brother was most definitely there and she grins to herself in the elevator.
--
“OLLLIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” he’s not even given a moment to really put down whatever he’s holding before he’s practically bowled over in her tackle, flying into his arms with a bright smile and she buries her face in his -- lab coat -- shirt with a soft sigh.
his hugs are just as good as she’s remembered them to be.
his expression is surprised, almost disbelieving as he gazes down at her and she glances up to meet his eyes, her own crinkling up in the wide smile and she’s promised herself she wouldn’t cry because it would be stupid to cry over her own brother but that doesn’t stop her from hugging him tight, hiding her face in his chest again in an attempt to stop herself from crying. she’s not crying, really, she promises. she’s got something in her eye. really.
his hand strokes over her hair, making her think of when they were little and she used to crawl into his lap or his bed whenever she had had a nightmare, and she glances up at him when she feels his shoulders shaking, feeling his soft little breaths in her hair and she smiles to herself, hugging him just as tightly as he was squeezing her.
“hey, if you don’t stop crying i’m going to start and we don’t want to flood uncle tony’s lab,” she tries to reason, pulling away to look up at him (all the way up, damn his height!), her voice shaky and if she sniffles a little bit, well, who can blame her?
“you’re back,” it’s a whisper, and it’s the only reply she gets before she’s tugged back into his arms and she smiles to herself. he hasn’t changed, she thinks, rather happily and she just lets herself be hugged, letting him hold her as if to make up for the two years she had been away, out of contact, honestly having missed this either way.
not that she would admit that of course.
“i’m back.”
maybe to him.
“and ... i missed you.”