linzee: (marvel: hug it out)
[personal profile] linzee


Steve pushes his hand into his pocket and it closes around cool metal. “You know there are timelines where none of this happened.”

Sam shrugs and sits down on the wall next to Steve. “Yeah, and there are timelines where reality TV doesn’t exist and this job pays. We can’t do anything about that. They’re not ours.”

Steve stares out at the skyline. He can see the Avengers Tower from here, half-lit, see the scaffolds attached to the sides and the beginnings of steel and glass expansion. Tony’s back on the west coast, though; Steve is flying out to meet him tomorrow. “Reed has them all laid out. Some of them, he worked it out without us; some of them it went worse.” Steve pulls his hand out of his pocket, still balled around the object in his fist. “There’s only one where Tony and I never clashed, though. You know what’s different about it?”

“Tony Stark isn’t an asshole?”

Steve smiles affectionately. “Doubtful.” He looks down at his closed hand. “Tony was born a woman, you know that? Natasha Stark. He—well, she, and that version of me, they were…involved before the registration.”

There’s a long silence, and Sam looks out at the skyline, too. “That’s no different from ours, though, is it.” It isn’t a question, and Steve isn’t particularly surprised. They never went public, but they didn’t hide it, either. It must have been so clear, when everything went wrong.

“I guess the difference is…they were honest about it.” Steve opens his hand, and the ring he’s holding glints in the refracted city light. “I should have been. Before.”

“Cap.” Steve glances up. “You think that’s a solution?”

“It’s not a solution. We don’t need solving.” Maybe for the first time since they started sleeping together, and Steve finally feels like he’s got solid footing again. “It’s a promise. Tony…he gave me one. With the kill switch. That this won’t happen again.” Steve lifts the ring, watching the row of diamonds in the center catch the yellows, blues and reds of the stars and neon signs. “I don’t have anything like that. This is the best I can do.”

---

This is my new favorite way of getting past writers' block, you guys. Because it's easy (lazy) and because it combines my favorite things: photoshop, and not actually writing. I've been working on the same story since July -- it's at over 20,000 words and will probably end around 30-40, when I finally get this stupid thing done. I'm really pleased with what I have so far, but it's slow-going, both because writing is hard (it is!) and because I have approximately five million other things I should be doing other than writing fanfic (my PhD exams are in May, so that's a thing that's happening).

The fic I'm writing is not actually curtain-fic, and this is not actually part of the story. I'm basically just writing extra scenes in my head with all the characters I wasn't able to include in the story proper. Next up: Bucky. Man, you don't even understand how hard it was to not use Bucky. Kill your darlings and all but if I had my way I would just stick Bucky everywhere. He's basically my favorite thing.
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