(no subject)
And now for your reading pleasure... Two ficlets!
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For severa: Tony and Steve enjoying Fourth of July with the Avengers and fireworks.
Steve’s idea of a perfect Fourth of July was radically different from Tony’s. Tony liked seeing fireworks from the comfort of his own home or yacht. He liked looking expensive and watching displays of expensive money getting put to good use. He wanted to be somewhere with less people and lots of loud noises in rapid sequence. Steve liked the parades, sparklers, people, singing, and, really, he probably would have loved all the annoying, sentimental things people in the Midwest did to celebrate the independence of their country from the tiny island that was currently the United States’ sixth-leading trade partner.
Because the Fourth also happened to be Steve’s birthday, Tony put up with having to go to various parts of the country so Captain America could spend most of the day with most of America. It had started as Steve doing his own thing and gradually become most of the Avengers going out of their way to spend the day with citizens in various states. The benefit of being Iron Man was Tony could wear his helmet and feign enthusiasm by putting a thumb up. Behind the visor, he was rolling his eyes and doing some internet gambling via Jarvis. It wasn’t that Tony wasn’t patriotic. He loved America more than most people and had devoted his life to defending her from a world jam-packed with idiots, but the whole celebratory aspect of that day always made him feel like the Grinch ever since Steve had been thawed out.
Selfishly, he would have liked to have one day out of the year where he got Steve completely to himself. Similarly he really wished the Rogers had planned ahead of their kid could have been born on the fifth or sixth of July. Then they could do whatever the hell Tony wanted to do for- That was pretty selfish too, though. It wasn’t like Captain America had been created for the sole purpose of giving Tony a superhuman playmate. And Pepper would have pointed out that most scheduling conflicts were not a result of malicious intent, but poor planning.
Once they got to the eighth random location, Tony decided he was sick of wearing his armor and sick of watching everyone else eat cheeseburgers while he pretended to care about parade floats. So he helped himself to a wide array of barbeque food and wandered off after awhile to find some corner of the neighborhood to play basketball with Thor in. Fortunately, the Son of Odin didn’t see the point of most holidays, but he did seem to be fascinated with slam-dunks. The other Avengers were enjoying themselves too. Some of them a little too much, he thought. Tony was not looking forward to Hank puking up all those hot dogs later on.
His hand hurt later on from all the high-fives he’d received from his Norse friend and he felt drained from the whole festive experience, but it was worth it.
On the Quinjet ride back to HQ and home, Tony sat next to Steve who started working some of the tension out of his neck without Tony bothering to say anything about it. He smiled a bit when Tony sighed in appreciation. “I always tell you that you don’t have to come with.”
“And I always say I’m going anyway,” Tony murmured, leaning forward. “Besides, this is how things work. Most of us go out and try to be Americans alongside everyone else. And the Canadian and the Jolly Green Giant stay back at the ranch. It’s tradition.”
“I’m sure Dr. Banner and Wolverine would have liked the company.”
“I’m pretty sure both of them are happier doing whatever it is they do together every Fourth of July. If you know what I mean.”
Steve raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “I’m pretty all they do is play foozball and drink beer. And, after a fashion, Logan orders a pizza.”
“Not to hurt your feelings or anything, but no one actually says ‘after a fashion’ anymore.”
“I’m aware, but I’m trying to bring it back into common use. I’ve been saying it all day to young people.”
Tony eyed Steve strangely, unable to tell if he was joking or not. Captain America had the best poker face he’d ever seen. Eventually Steve winked before moving his hand away. And like he did just about every year, he kissed Tony’s cheek, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes. Maybe he was a little worn out from being so friendly all day long, but Tony doubted it. More than likely, Steve was just so content he needed a few minutes to review and commit all the good things to memory.
Sometimes it was hard to believe that he would opt to be with someone like that, but more often Tony struggled with the notion that someone like Steve would want to be with someone like him.
Eventually everyone left and Tony had never been so happy to see them go as he was at the end of every Fourth of July.
During the first few years of July holidays, he’d given Steve ridiculously expensive gifts or just lots of presents that added up to a small fortune and hours spent on e-bay. That was long before he’d ever figured out how he felt and whether or not he’d get his head caved in with the shield if he so much as offered up a small ‘come hither’ look.
Once they had been seeing each other for awhile, Steve seemed to be comfortable enough to insist that the last thing in the world he wanted was a lot of gifts on the Fourth of July. He wanted simply to be surrounded by friends and good people. He didn’t want to be alone and he didn’t want to go anywhere cold.
So Tony contented himself with paying for any and all travel expenses, and funding virtually all the firework displays in whatever neighborhood Mr. Rogers decided to visit. Whether Steve knew or not wasn’t the point, really. The point was that Steve had to enjoy his birthday even if Tony hated every part of it except the evening where he got to drag the other man over to the window at his own house and force him to watch the show he’d put together.
Every year got a little better than the last. This one ended with the most ridiculously large series of red, white, and blue fireworks that took on the form of Captain America’s shield. Tony didn’t even want to tell anyone how much that had cost him. Even the fact that Pepper knew was vaguely embarrassing.
Not that he had a lot of free time on his hands to think about it that night. The show itself only lasted about fifteen minutes because that was about as long as either one of them could last without practically tackling the other. Loud booming noises and explosions did wonderful things for both of their libidos.
It wasn’t a perfect holiday or a perfect day by any means, but it had been a good day. Most of the time, --particularly in their line of work-- that was all you could hope for and all that you could want.
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For lex_of_green: "Movie!Bruce Banner meets Nightcrawler. For any reason."
Guanajuato, Mexico
Days Without Incident: 14
The building itself was pretty ugly during the day. The outside, covered in spires and pointy towers, was combination of faded pinks and garish grays. Bruce wasn’t sure what brought him into the church that night, but it was better than sleeping on the streets. He wanted to move further out into the desert, but he had wanted to do a little sight-seeing. And if he was honest with himself, he had liked being surrounded by people even if it was only for a little while. Even if the only people he was likely to meet who didn’t know him, didn’t care and wouldn’t remember him the second they’d passed him by in the street.
He glanced briefly up at the vaulted ceiling once he was inside and then realized he wasn’t alone around the same time the other person, crouching low in front of the altar came to a similar conclusion. Or maybe it wasn’t a person because Bruce hadn’t really ever seen a person jump and climb up towards vaulted ceilings with paintings and statues of saints and angels. Most people didn’t have tails either. Most people weren’t blue.
A demon in a church. And it was afraid of him.
“It’s all right,” Bruce said first in Spanish and then in English, moving further into the room. It stopped skittering up the wall. Instead it peered down at him with narrow, slitted yellow eyes. “I can go.”
It blinked down at him and there was a strange sound as the area it had been occupying filled with red smoke. And then it was standing right there in front of him. Or rather he was because the creature or whatever was definitely male. The whatever-it-was sat on its haunches, making an effort not to be intimidating. If only he knew what he was dealing with.
“Nein doch. I’m sorry. You startled me and I over-reacted.” The German accent was fairly believable and fairly thick.
Bruce looked down at the creature’s strange blue hands and feet. Three large fingers and three long toes. “You’re a-”
He titled his head, smiling a little before flipping back to perch on top of one of the pews. “Mutant. Yes.”
“Why are you here?” Bruce asked, realizing it was rude but exactly caring. He wasn’t afraid of this weird-looking thing. He might have been a few years ago or before dealing with Blonsky, but the lithe furry blue guy didn’t bother him much. As for his lack of social skills, Bruce hadn’t been good at dealing with people for a long time.
“To pray,” the mutant said, raising one hand and Bruce could see the rosary wrapped around one large knuckle. The beads were a dark black and in the dim lighting it was hard to differentiate it from the blue skin. “And you?”
Bruce set his backpack down in the row next to him and shrugged. “To sleep.”
“I see.”
“Why would you pray?” he asked, confused by how angry the question made him. What was there to pray for when you looked the way this guy did? People must have hated him and hurt him all his life and here he was giving God the better part of his evening. “I’m guessing you’re Catholic, but…”
“What is your name?”
He hesitated before deciding to just use his first name only. “Bruce.”
“I am Kurt. You wouldn’t have heard of me, but I am also known as Nightcrawler. I’m sure you can see why.”
Bruce looked away. “I guess so.”
“You can stare at me,” Kurt gently insisted, blue lips curving up into a small smile and revealing just a hint of fangs. “I have been the subject of much staring in the course of my life. You’re not being unkind.”
“I wouldn’t want people to do that to me.”
He chuckled quietly and sighed. “They have been doing it to me since I was born, my friend. But I believed you asked me a question and now that we’ve been properly introduced, I can tell you. It is for peace.”
“Peace?”
“Of mind. Clarity of thought and purpose. I pray because it brings me comfort.”
“I like to meditate,” Bruce said, not sure why he was admitting that to some blue stranger, but it was nice to talk to someone and this wasn’t the first blue person he’d discussed the matter with.
“Does it help you?”
“Sometimes. I don’t think prayer would.”
“Perhaps not,” Kurt replied, his tail lightly wrapping around one of the railings close to the aisle. He didn’t seem to pay it much attention. Bruce tried to keep from eying it suspiciously.
“Prayer is not…” The mutant rubbed at his chin with one fingers and Bruce noticed his pointed ears for the first time. “I suppose you would think it strange to see me praying, but I am not asking God to change me. Prayer is not a solution to problems. It is a momentary respite from them.”
“I need solutions.”
“Do you?”
“I’m a scientist. I solve problems. I fix what goes wrong.” He sighed before adding: “I try to anyway.”
“But in the middle of your work... Surely you have more to do than dwell only on the outcomes of your labor. Is not the process as valuable as the result?”
“Used to be,” Bruce muttered. “My work’s become complicated.”
“Ah,” Kurt murmured, moving down so that he was sitting in the pew, resting his head on the wooden rail behind the seat. “I am sorry then.”
“No, it- It’s fine.”
“I see.”
No, you don’t, Bruce thought. And I’m glad you don’t. He couldn’t think of anything else to say so eventually he sat down, trying not to feel uncomfortable about the fact that Kurt continued staring at him with weird yellow eyes.
The mutant was the first to break the silence. “I often wanted to be a priest as a small boy. I was not sheltered from the world, but I suppose in those early days I was young and optimistic about my future and my abilities. It took time for me to realize very few people would ever seek me out for advice. I hardly expect anyone to unburden themselves to me, but certainly I can wish your troubles were fewer.”
“Aren’t yours worse?”
Kurt laughed again and shook his head. “Because I am blue?”
“Well…”
“Or because my problems have been with me since birth? Nein. Your troubles can be equally as bad as mine. They can be worse if you like.”
“Not really,” Bruce wryly admitted.
“Please do not be upset,” Kurt began, lightly touching one of Bruce’s fingers before retreating back and eying him thoughtfully. “Please do not leave after I say this. But I think you ought to try not to be so alone.”
Bruce considered this, nodding stiffly. He would have liked to have left, but he concentrated instead on taking a deep breath and not giving into whatever emotion seemed eager to gnaw at him whenever he thought of how alone he was.
“It has helped me tremendously to find others like me.”
“Other mutants.”
“Yes.”
“There’s no one else like me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m…”
“It is not possible that you are meant to be alone forever. No one is meant to be alone.”
“Some people are,” Bruce testily mumbled. “Some people mess up and then they’re alone after that. They stay that way and it’s for the best.”
“What could you possibly have don-” The mutant frowned and glanced down at the watch around his wrist before sighing.
Bruce eyed the device warily, thinking over the various exit routes out of the church as Kurt pressed a small button to silence its beeping. “Is that the others like you?” he asked, unable to sound anything but gloomy.
“Yes. We are… There’s a young man like us we are locating and hoping to help. The others have found him and I must go.”
He found that instead of becoming paranoid, he just felt a little sad as he watched the mutant rise to his feet and move to the aisle. “Oh.”
“I am so sorry, Bruce. I would have liked to stay and I suppose I will not see you again.”
“No, I…” I can’t stay anywhere too long. I’m sorry too. “No.”
“Find others like you,” Kurt gently urged. “I am certain that you can, Bruce.”
He wanted to argue, but instead he numbly nodded, blinking a little when the mutant touched his arm.
“And I will not offer to pray for you, but I hope you find peace. Is that acceptable?”
The scientist nodded again and brushed a few fingers over the mutant’s warm, fur-coated skin. “I hope you keep yours.”
Then there were fingers lingering briefly in his hair. Bruce tried not to think about Betty or all the other things he wished he could have as Kurt quietly said “Thank you.”
A few seconds after that, there was more red smoke and the lingering smell of something sulphuric.
Bruce took several deep breaths and picked up his bag. He couldn’t stay there, after all. For the umpteenth time, he really wished he had other options, and for the first time, he wished he could have been different in a compatible way. In a way that would have made him useful to or worthy of a team or a group of people like him. He wasn’t sure how he was ever going to find peace of mind on his own.
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Just as a side-note: They're unbeat'd so any mistakes are my own. And that second ficlet really, really hurt to write. O Bruce.
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For severa: Tony and Steve enjoying Fourth of July with the Avengers and fireworks.
Steve’s idea of a perfect Fourth of July was radically different from Tony’s. Tony liked seeing fireworks from the comfort of his own home or yacht. He liked looking expensive and watching displays of expensive money getting put to good use. He wanted to be somewhere with less people and lots of loud noises in rapid sequence. Steve liked the parades, sparklers, people, singing, and, really, he probably would have loved all the annoying, sentimental things people in the Midwest did to celebrate the independence of their country from the tiny island that was currently the United States’ sixth-leading trade partner.
Because the Fourth also happened to be Steve’s birthday, Tony put up with having to go to various parts of the country so Captain America could spend most of the day with most of America. It had started as Steve doing his own thing and gradually become most of the Avengers going out of their way to spend the day with citizens in various states. The benefit of being Iron Man was Tony could wear his helmet and feign enthusiasm by putting a thumb up. Behind the visor, he was rolling his eyes and doing some internet gambling via Jarvis. It wasn’t that Tony wasn’t patriotic. He loved America more than most people and had devoted his life to defending her from a world jam-packed with idiots, but the whole celebratory aspect of that day always made him feel like the Grinch ever since Steve had been thawed out.
Selfishly, he would have liked to have one day out of the year where he got Steve completely to himself. Similarly he really wished the Rogers had planned ahead of their kid could have been born on the fifth or sixth of July. Then they could do whatever the hell Tony wanted to do for- That was pretty selfish too, though. It wasn’t like Captain America had been created for the sole purpose of giving Tony a superhuman playmate. And Pepper would have pointed out that most scheduling conflicts were not a result of malicious intent, but poor planning.
Once they got to the eighth random location, Tony decided he was sick of wearing his armor and sick of watching everyone else eat cheeseburgers while he pretended to care about parade floats. So he helped himself to a wide array of barbeque food and wandered off after awhile to find some corner of the neighborhood to play basketball with Thor in. Fortunately, the Son of Odin didn’t see the point of most holidays, but he did seem to be fascinated with slam-dunks. The other Avengers were enjoying themselves too. Some of them a little too much, he thought. Tony was not looking forward to Hank puking up all those hot dogs later on.
His hand hurt later on from all the high-fives he’d received from his Norse friend and he felt drained from the whole festive experience, but it was worth it.
On the Quinjet ride back to HQ and home, Tony sat next to Steve who started working some of the tension out of his neck without Tony bothering to say anything about it. He smiled a bit when Tony sighed in appreciation. “I always tell you that you don’t have to come with.”
“And I always say I’m going anyway,” Tony murmured, leaning forward. “Besides, this is how things work. Most of us go out and try to be Americans alongside everyone else. And the Canadian and the Jolly Green Giant stay back at the ranch. It’s tradition.”
“I’m sure Dr. Banner and Wolverine would have liked the company.”
“I’m pretty sure both of them are happier doing whatever it is they do together every Fourth of July. If you know what I mean.”
Steve raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “I’m pretty all they do is play foozball and drink beer. And, after a fashion, Logan orders a pizza.”
“Not to hurt your feelings or anything, but no one actually says ‘after a fashion’ anymore.”
“I’m aware, but I’m trying to bring it back into common use. I’ve been saying it all day to young people.”
Tony eyed Steve strangely, unable to tell if he was joking or not. Captain America had the best poker face he’d ever seen. Eventually Steve winked before moving his hand away. And like he did just about every year, he kissed Tony’s cheek, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes. Maybe he was a little worn out from being so friendly all day long, but Tony doubted it. More than likely, Steve was just so content he needed a few minutes to review and commit all the good things to memory.
Sometimes it was hard to believe that he would opt to be with someone like that, but more often Tony struggled with the notion that someone like Steve would want to be with someone like him.
Eventually everyone left and Tony had never been so happy to see them go as he was at the end of every Fourth of July.
During the first few years of July holidays, he’d given Steve ridiculously expensive gifts or just lots of presents that added up to a small fortune and hours spent on e-bay. That was long before he’d ever figured out how he felt and whether or not he’d get his head caved in with the shield if he so much as offered up a small ‘come hither’ look.
Once they had been seeing each other for awhile, Steve seemed to be comfortable enough to insist that the last thing in the world he wanted was a lot of gifts on the Fourth of July. He wanted simply to be surrounded by friends and good people. He didn’t want to be alone and he didn’t want to go anywhere cold.
So Tony contented himself with paying for any and all travel expenses, and funding virtually all the firework displays in whatever neighborhood Mr. Rogers decided to visit. Whether Steve knew or not wasn’t the point, really. The point was that Steve had to enjoy his birthday even if Tony hated every part of it except the evening where he got to drag the other man over to the window at his own house and force him to watch the show he’d put together.
Every year got a little better than the last. This one ended with the most ridiculously large series of red, white, and blue fireworks that took on the form of Captain America’s shield. Tony didn’t even want to tell anyone how much that had cost him. Even the fact that Pepper knew was vaguely embarrassing.
Not that he had a lot of free time on his hands to think about it that night. The show itself only lasted about fifteen minutes because that was about as long as either one of them could last without practically tackling the other. Loud booming noises and explosions did wonderful things for both of their libidos.
It wasn’t a perfect holiday or a perfect day by any means, but it had been a good day. Most of the time, --particularly in their line of work-- that was all you could hope for and all that you could want.
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For lex_of_green: "Movie!Bruce Banner meets Nightcrawler. For any reason."
Guanajuato, Mexico
Days Without Incident: 14
The building itself was pretty ugly during the day. The outside, covered in spires and pointy towers, was combination of faded pinks and garish grays. Bruce wasn’t sure what brought him into the church that night, but it was better than sleeping on the streets. He wanted to move further out into the desert, but he had wanted to do a little sight-seeing. And if he was honest with himself, he had liked being surrounded by people even if it was only for a little while. Even if the only people he was likely to meet who didn’t know him, didn’t care and wouldn’t remember him the second they’d passed him by in the street.
He glanced briefly up at the vaulted ceiling once he was inside and then realized he wasn’t alone around the same time the other person, crouching low in front of the altar came to a similar conclusion. Or maybe it wasn’t a person because Bruce hadn’t really ever seen a person jump and climb up towards vaulted ceilings with paintings and statues of saints and angels. Most people didn’t have tails either. Most people weren’t blue.
A demon in a church. And it was afraid of him.
“It’s all right,” Bruce said first in Spanish and then in English, moving further into the room. It stopped skittering up the wall. Instead it peered down at him with narrow, slitted yellow eyes. “I can go.”
It blinked down at him and there was a strange sound as the area it had been occupying filled with red smoke. And then it was standing right there in front of him. Or rather he was because the creature or whatever was definitely male. The whatever-it-was sat on its haunches, making an effort not to be intimidating. If only he knew what he was dealing with.
“Nein doch. I’m sorry. You startled me and I over-reacted.” The German accent was fairly believable and fairly thick.
Bruce looked down at the creature’s strange blue hands and feet. Three large fingers and three long toes. “You’re a-”
He titled his head, smiling a little before flipping back to perch on top of one of the pews. “Mutant. Yes.”
“Why are you here?” Bruce asked, realizing it was rude but exactly caring. He wasn’t afraid of this weird-looking thing. He might have been a few years ago or before dealing with Blonsky, but the lithe furry blue guy didn’t bother him much. As for his lack of social skills, Bruce hadn’t been good at dealing with people for a long time.
“To pray,” the mutant said, raising one hand and Bruce could see the rosary wrapped around one large knuckle. The beads were a dark black and in the dim lighting it was hard to differentiate it from the blue skin. “And you?”
Bruce set his backpack down in the row next to him and shrugged. “To sleep.”
“I see.”
“Why would you pray?” he asked, confused by how angry the question made him. What was there to pray for when you looked the way this guy did? People must have hated him and hurt him all his life and here he was giving God the better part of his evening. “I’m guessing you’re Catholic, but…”
“What is your name?”
He hesitated before deciding to just use his first name only. “Bruce.”
“I am Kurt. You wouldn’t have heard of me, but I am also known as Nightcrawler. I’m sure you can see why.”
Bruce looked away. “I guess so.”
“You can stare at me,” Kurt gently insisted, blue lips curving up into a small smile and revealing just a hint of fangs. “I have been the subject of much staring in the course of my life. You’re not being unkind.”
“I wouldn’t want people to do that to me.”
He chuckled quietly and sighed. “They have been doing it to me since I was born, my friend. But I believed you asked me a question and now that we’ve been properly introduced, I can tell you. It is for peace.”
“Peace?”
“Of mind. Clarity of thought and purpose. I pray because it brings me comfort.”
“I like to meditate,” Bruce said, not sure why he was admitting that to some blue stranger, but it was nice to talk to someone and this wasn’t the first blue person he’d discussed the matter with.
“Does it help you?”
“Sometimes. I don’t think prayer would.”
“Perhaps not,” Kurt replied, his tail lightly wrapping around one of the railings close to the aisle. He didn’t seem to pay it much attention. Bruce tried to keep from eying it suspiciously.
“Prayer is not…” The mutant rubbed at his chin with one fingers and Bruce noticed his pointed ears for the first time. “I suppose you would think it strange to see me praying, but I am not asking God to change me. Prayer is not a solution to problems. It is a momentary respite from them.”
“I need solutions.”
“Do you?”
“I’m a scientist. I solve problems. I fix what goes wrong.” He sighed before adding: “I try to anyway.”
“But in the middle of your work... Surely you have more to do than dwell only on the outcomes of your labor. Is not the process as valuable as the result?”
“Used to be,” Bruce muttered. “My work’s become complicated.”
“Ah,” Kurt murmured, moving down so that he was sitting in the pew, resting his head on the wooden rail behind the seat. “I am sorry then.”
“No, it- It’s fine.”
“I see.”
No, you don’t, Bruce thought. And I’m glad you don’t. He couldn’t think of anything else to say so eventually he sat down, trying not to feel uncomfortable about the fact that Kurt continued staring at him with weird yellow eyes.
The mutant was the first to break the silence. “I often wanted to be a priest as a small boy. I was not sheltered from the world, but I suppose in those early days I was young and optimistic about my future and my abilities. It took time for me to realize very few people would ever seek me out for advice. I hardly expect anyone to unburden themselves to me, but certainly I can wish your troubles were fewer.”
“Aren’t yours worse?”
Kurt laughed again and shook his head. “Because I am blue?”
“Well…”
“Or because my problems have been with me since birth? Nein. Your troubles can be equally as bad as mine. They can be worse if you like.”
“Not really,” Bruce wryly admitted.
“Please do not be upset,” Kurt began, lightly touching one of Bruce’s fingers before retreating back and eying him thoughtfully. “Please do not leave after I say this. But I think you ought to try not to be so alone.”
Bruce considered this, nodding stiffly. He would have liked to have left, but he concentrated instead on taking a deep breath and not giving into whatever emotion seemed eager to gnaw at him whenever he thought of how alone he was.
“It has helped me tremendously to find others like me.”
“Other mutants.”
“Yes.”
“There’s no one else like me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m…”
“It is not possible that you are meant to be alone forever. No one is meant to be alone.”
“Some people are,” Bruce testily mumbled. “Some people mess up and then they’re alone after that. They stay that way and it’s for the best.”
“What could you possibly have don-” The mutant frowned and glanced down at the watch around his wrist before sighing.
Bruce eyed the device warily, thinking over the various exit routes out of the church as Kurt pressed a small button to silence its beeping. “Is that the others like you?” he asked, unable to sound anything but gloomy.
“Yes. We are… There’s a young man like us we are locating and hoping to help. The others have found him and I must go.”
He found that instead of becoming paranoid, he just felt a little sad as he watched the mutant rise to his feet and move to the aisle. “Oh.”
“I am so sorry, Bruce. I would have liked to stay and I suppose I will not see you again.”
“No, I…” I can’t stay anywhere too long. I’m sorry too. “No.”
“Find others like you,” Kurt gently urged. “I am certain that you can, Bruce.”
He wanted to argue, but instead he numbly nodded, blinking a little when the mutant touched his arm.
“And I will not offer to pray for you, but I hope you find peace. Is that acceptable?”
The scientist nodded again and brushed a few fingers over the mutant’s warm, fur-coated skin. “I hope you keep yours.”
Then there were fingers lingering briefly in his hair. Bruce tried not to think about Betty or all the other things he wished he could have as Kurt quietly said “Thank you.”
A few seconds after that, there was more red smoke and the lingering smell of something sulphuric.
Bruce took several deep breaths and picked up his bag. He couldn’t stay there, after all. For the umpteenth time, he really wished he had other options, and for the first time, he wished he could have been different in a compatible way. In a way that would have made him useful to or worthy of a team or a group of people like him. He wasn’t sure how he was ever going to find peace of mind on his own.
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Just as a side-note: They're unbeat'd so any mistakes are my own. And that second ficlet really, really hurt to write. O Bruce.