living superhuman

Antivirus (Chapter 1)

Hi!! So this is the first part of an au i thought of a while ago. Its a sort of hacker au?? if nothing makes sense its bc ill explain it in the next chapter, i was being slightly vague on purpose. This chapter was longer than i thought it would be? but i like it so :D ill try to post this on ao3 too so if you like it you can follow it on there too. Now on to the shitshow story!

//

Izuku Midoriya has one goal in life: to be a hero. Being quirkless may have made other people give up on that dream, but not him. Determined to on day become a hero, he learns to hack. Operating under the codename Antivirus, he monitors the city, sending in anonymous tips about villain activity to the police. He becomes well known, and helps people like he’s always wanted. However, nothing comes without a cost, and this reality is no different.

//

  Izuku glanced down at his phone under his desk, counting the seconds until the bell went off, signaling the end of the day. If he was fast enough, he might even be able to avoid-

  And there was the familiar sharp ding of the bell.

 Since his stuff was already in his backpack, it was simple to just sprint out the door. Bakugou had already started the chase, but Izuku was used to the cat-and-mouse they had played for years, and stayed away from sharp corners. His chaser was quick to orient himself on those and Izuku wasn’t, so it was best to find a straightway to run along.

 The yells and curses behind him increased when Izuku jumped into an alleyway and kept up his jog, though they faded as he increased the distance between them. He’d faced off and seen many people that were technically scarier than his childhood friend, but his heart never did quite pound in quiet fear as it did when he was chased by Bakugou.

 His heart and breath slowed down once he saw his destination up ahead. The internet café he had been frequenting recent was small but cozy, and the black, silver, and purple color scheme it had going on was a welcome sight every day after school, especially after his daily escapes from Bakugou.

 “Ah, you’re back!” a voice called from near the counter.

 A tall person with bright colored green hair that was just now changing to a light orange waved at him, smiling. Tomomi had been working at Museiai Café for as long as Izuku had been going there, and they always left a cookie or two aside for him when he came by.

 The café doubled as both a place to eat and get wifi that couldn’t be traced, of which Izuku was thankful for in equal amounts.

 After getting his usual cookie from Tomomi, he settled back into the inconspicuous corner he was used to sitting in. It didn’t have the most comfortable cushions, but it did keep people from peering over his shoulder or just noticing him over all, which was his goal. Can’t keep your secret identity a secret if everyone is always looking at you, right?

 The cushion sunk down with him when he sat in it. The laptop he kept on him at most times despite–how heavy it was–was brought out quickly, and then he set to work checking the cameras around the city.

 The east side of the city was doing okay today. The drug ring bust last week had seemed to mellow out that part of the city, though it would perk up soon, he could tell. A mugging near the park had him sending off a quick message to the officers near that area, and a few fights got the same treatment. Once that area looked good, he switched to the south side. It had been too quiet lately, and what that usually meant was-

 There. A bank being robbed. Izuku counted four villains, though they all looked like they had just started their looting. He checked the inside cameras, and it seemed like no one had notified the heroes yet. There were 2 hostages, though they didn’t appear to be very scared. One of them even checked his watch. Living in a superhuman society did strange things to people’s reactions to danger.

 It was easy for Izuku to slip his computer back in his backpack and quietly slink into the bathroom deep in the café. Once he opened the door, he quickly checked the room for any cameras in the vicinity. There never were any in this room, but it didn’t hurt to look. If he had learned anything from this whole situation, it was that people hid cameras in places you would never think to look.

 Luckily, the room was empty this time. The last time it had not had been a… fun experience. He had run out of the room before the person could ask any questions, however.

 Izuku found the first empty stall that he saw and quickly shut and locked the door. Pulling out the small mirror he kept on him at all times and liquid eyeliner, he set to work applying his usual mask. Two large wings, paired with the black facemask with a point-toothed smile, changed his appearance more than one would think, and successfully had kept his identity hidden for as long as he had been doing this. The final touch was the black sneakers that he switched out from his usual bright red ones. They were way too distinctive, almost as much as his hair, although he couldn’t do much about the latter.

 Now that his disguise was done, he could leave for the scene of the crime. Going back out the way he came was out of the question, so he would take his usual route; the window.

 If there were ever times Izuku was glad he was short, it was ones like these.

 Once he had wiggled through the window, which had luckily not been too high up, he checked his phone for the exact location of the bank. After he memorized it, Izuku tucked his phone in his pocket, straightened up, and ran.

 One of the things he had taught himself over time was the layout of the city. If there was an alley, he had walked in it. If there was a roof, he had jumped across it. One thing that often baffled people was how quickly he usually got to the scene. Some minimal parkour skills also helped, even if the first few times he had tried it he had ended up almost falling off a roof. That was a fun thing to try and explain to his mom.

 Izuku was lucky that he had good balance, or the several pipes he had to climb combined with the roof jumping would surely have been the end of him. He would never quite get rid of the lingering feeling of falling as he leapt to one high place to the next, however.

 A few minutes were all he needed to make his way towards his location. Izuku peered over the half-wall from on top of the roof of the building across the street from the bank. Though he didn’t really need to be near the crime scene, the cameras in the bank had not been clear enough for Izuku to see exactly what was happening inside. He also may or may not have wanted to get on the scene and feel like a real hero, but that was besides the point.

 When he gets as comfortable as you can in black skinny jeans on a concrete rooftop, Izuku got out his laptop and opened up the personal hotspot that he had bought for himself. It would be easier and cheaper to hack into the wifi down below him, but every time he did, Izuku would feel guilty for days afterward.

 Once he was hooked up, all he had to do was send the location along with some details to the nearest police and heroes. After the location was sent, he squinted down at the building across from him, and started the mumble storm that helped him dissect the situation.

 “Two mutant quirks, one jaguar and one octopus. Fire quirk might work best against those. Two unidentified quirks- no, he just produced a knife from his hand, one unidentified quirk. Fire and possibly speed quirk would be best in this situation-” Izuku rambled on in a constant stream under his breath. The closest fire heroes in this area would be Endeavor and Flamethrower, though this was too much of a small job for one of the top heroes to deal with at the moment. He couldn’t think of anyone off the bat who could easily combat a speed quirk, and the knife quirk could be handled by Flamethrower. Maybe a combination of two quirks? A water to slow down along with some sort of fish quirk might work, though it might make things harder for Flamethrower…

 Once he made up his mind, Izuku sent off the message to the station and notified the heroes he needed to. Flamethrower, Aquatic, and Chomp would have to work, as they were the closest heroes at the moment. It wasn’t the best matchup, but if they could separate tentacles from the others it should be an easy fight. He said as much to the police and heroes before checking the time. Did he have enough time to watch the fight, or-

 Oh, that was a no. If he wanted to catch the other robbery on the upper end of the east side, he definitely had to run now.

 Snapping his computer shut with one forlorn look shot towards the fight that had already started in front of the bank, Izuku put everything away and readied himself to continue his trek across the city. Although his legs had already started to slightly burn from all the jumping, he smiled. Izuku was glad to help the city he lived in.

 It was all he could do.



 When Izuku finally got home, it was mostly dark, save for the light purple tint on some parts of the sky. He had stopped at a public bathroom on his way home, so his eyes were eyeliner free, save for the small clumps near his eyelashes. He never figured out the trick to getting those out, even though he had been doing his own makeup for three whole years. He was lucky his mom hadn’t noticed yet.

 “Mom!” he called out into the seemingly empty space.

 He wasn’t left waiting for long, as his mom quickly appeared seemingly out of nowhere to greet him.

 “Izuku!” she cried out, and latched onto him in a hug. Although she saw him every day, she still disliked to when he was gone until dark, especially after that incident.

 “Izuku, I was so worried, I thought we agreed to not stay out past 6:00-” Izuku barely flinched and chanced a glance to the wall clock, confirming that he had been out later than he thought, “-and I was just so worried. Please don’t do this again, please, baby?”

 All Izuku could do was nod in confirmation before Inko buried her face in the side of his neck in another hug. He could feel himself wilting internally at the sight, and made sure to squeeze her just as hard back.

 “Mom, Mom it’s okay, i’m okay, i promise-” he quickly assured her, and his words seemed to comfort her as she let him go a while after he had started apologizing.

 After they had both calmed themselves, Inko led Izuku to the kitchen to eat the dinner he had almost missed out on. The katsudon she had made him was cold, but he ate it anyways for his mom. The tv was on in the living room still- he assumed she had been watching it in stress before he got home- and paused in his eating when he heard something the reporter was saying.

 “It seems that once again, the police have been helped by the anonymous coding vigilante, Antivirus. He notified nearby heroes to three robberies and 4 break ins-” Izuku tuned the rest out after that. Hearing himself on the tv had a certain kind of effect on people, it seemed.

 He had to hide his smile in the bowl of cold katsudon, although it tasted much better now.

//

Sooo how was it?? I haven’t written in a while so I’m a bit rusty ^-^ thank you @saltier-than-thou for beta-ing for me! i guess just like this post if you want to see more chapter? i have a lot planned but if no one likes it i won’t post it lmao. Thanks for reading this!!

MBTI TYPE SUPERPOWERS

ESTJ- Laser vision

ISTJ- Invisibility

ESFJ- Empathy

ISFJ- Healing abilities for self and others

ESFP-Enhanced superhuman senses

ISFP- Shapeshifter (living things)

ESTP- Superhuman agility

ISTP- Shapeshifter (inanimate things)

ENTP- Teleportation

INTP- The ability to generate electricity

ENFP- Reality warpers

INFP- Dimension jumper

ENTJ- Mind control

INTJ- Telekinesis

ENFJ- Telepathy

INFJ- Control over time

A stand that’s exactly like Heaven’s Door–grants the user the power to extract information from people’s minds and create manga based on its victims’ lives at a superhuman speed, as well as write things in the victims’ minds to control their behavior–except instead of manga, its user can only create Minecraft Story Mode episodes based on the victims’ lives, and the user can’t write anything besides Minecraft song parody lyrics in their minds.

anonymous asked:

I have a headcanon to your Tony loves eating post. :D What if he loves to eat, loves trying out new food, loves sweets and fast food, but IS insecure about his body at the same time. He lives with superhumans, like you said. And Tony has that lil tummy (he's not even chubby, he is just built like that) so that makes him feel a little insecure and inadequate. He starts to get insecure about eating with people around, until someone notices and tells him that he's perfect the way he is.

Yasss, thank you for sharing this goodness with me, even though (read: especially because) it’s insecure Tony goodness! Because yeah, Tony is confident, he knows how to fill up an entire room with his presence, and he’s attractive too, he knows that. But. But that doesn’t mean he always feels that way, that doesn’t stop the occasional doubts from creeping in.

And his tummy is just kind of a sore spot, you know? He’s pretty fit otherwise, his work in the shop and as Iron Man have made sure of that. And it doesn’t help that people usually don’t talk about his body like it’s his body. They talk about his ass (flattering, if a little sexualised for a dinner party) or his grey hair (which looks fantastic, thank you very much) on the media, speculate, make jokes, turn it into this really big, public thing. 

With the team it’s not that much better. They make less sex jokes (not no sex jokes though) but they never–say anything nice about his appearance without that scornful undertone. Or biting sarcasm. Which, to be fair, so does Tony, it’s not like he’s the innocent one here. But sometimes they still–sting.

That’s why, on those very bad days when everything goes wrong and Tony has JARVIS turn on every monitor on every reflective surface in the tower just so he doesn’t have to look at himself, he calls Mama Rhodes. Because Mama Rhodes always knows, and somehow she manages to make everything better without making it awkward at all and Tony just bathes in her magic. And lets her scold him for not coming over to dinner more often. And lets her guilt him into coming for dinner the next Saturday.

Because Mama Rhodes is amazing. (And so is her cooking.)

i am slowly…….developing a tokyo ghoul au for levi

Little Known Facts About Your Doctors

*I’m gonna make this into a poster and frame it in my waiting room. These concepts are completely foreign to my patients, who still live in an old timey world where their doctors are superhuman and live to serve their every whim. 

  • They require food. Lunch breaks happen more days than not, as do supper breaks. Your calls will not be answered during this time.
  • They sometimes have to pee or–*gasp*–poop. Inevitably you will call during one of these short breaks and we will not be available.
  • They enjoy living in houses and wearing clothes. These things cost money. 
  • They require paychecks on a regular basis in order to pay for the things that cost money. In order to acquire these paychecks, they must charge for the work that they do, and you or your insurance company or the government must pay for services rendered. 
  • They cannot be everywhere at the same time. They understand that you prefer to have a doctor who knows your history evaluate you every time, but if they are seeing patients in the office they cannot see you in the ER or the hospital simultaneously.
  • They have other patients besides you. When they are not available to see you, it is likely because they are helping another patient who is just as important as you are. When they don’t call you right back on a week day, it’s probably because they’re seeing these other people who are also patients. 
  • They are limited by human definitions of time. If they see patients 8 hours a day, there will occasionally be days when their appointment blocks are completely full to overflowing, and they will be physically unable to see any more patients in the allotted time. 
  • They require rest and time off. Though you would like for your doctor to be available 24/7 they, like iPhones, must shut down once in a while. They cannot work 24 hours a day. There will be times that they will be completely unavailable to you. 
  • They like privacy, especially during their “shut it down time”. They really don’t want you asking them about your rash or poo problems over Facebook. They don’t want to look at your mole in the freezer section at the grocery store. And they DEFINITELY don’t want you showing up at their front door unannounced at 6AM unless you are actively dying. 
  • They require sleep, preferably in one continuous chunk. Uninterrupted by a half dozen phone calls.
  • They work a LOT. While you think your doctor is being lazy ignoring your phone calls, they’re actually seeing patients or completing charts. When you think they’re late to work because they slept in, it’s actually because they rounded at the nursing home at 6am. When you are at home watching The Voice, they are at home or in their office finishing charts. 
  • They have families. Some are married. Some have kids. Some don’t have spouses or kids but really really want them. They need time to go out and find them. They need time to be with their families. Leave them alone to be with their families!
  • They take vacations. Your whole entire universe will not collapse if they take a week day off. There are other doctors. There are emergency rooms. Nobody gets sick on Superbowl Sunday, but if a doctor is off on a random Tuesday everybody literally falls apart. 
  • They get sick. And they don’t go to other doctors for useless antibiotics for their sniffles. 

Congratulations, you now know that doctors are, indeed, like all other human beings. Amazing, innit?

8

Okay, so since I got onto the topic of Space Marine Armour and I’m a big enough nerd to know this stuff, here’s a quick breakdown of the standard suits.

1: Thunder Armour was never actually worn by Space Marines. In fact, it’s not even a Space Suit. It has no environmental systems, no sensors, and only the upper body is actually powered. It wasn’t worn by baseline humans either though, as the non-powered leg armour can’t actually support the weight of the suit. Instead, it was worn by the Thunder Warriors, the Emperor’s short-lived first draft of superhuman soldiers during his initial conquest of earth. The Thunder Warriors were actually even stronger and tougher than Marines, but their enhancements were unstable and gave them short lifespans.

2: Crusade Armour, designed for use in space and on any planets the marines might visit, featured all the basic features Thunder Armour did not. Sadly, it did not feature the ability to turn your neck whilst wearing it. Bulky and inefficient, but not bad for a first draft.

3: Iron Armour was the first draft of the concept that would later become the seperate line of Terminator Armour: Fancier, more protective armour handed out to the most elite marines, and essentially impossible to mass produce.

4: Maximus Armour has all the early kinks worked out, being both more flexible and more protective than before.

5: Heresy armour is unusual in that it strictly speaking isn’t a standard pattern. Rather, it’s a catch all classification for armour worn by both sides during the Heresy made from recycled bits of Crusade, Maximus and Corvus suits. The vast majority of Chaos Space Marines still wear Maximus or Heresy armour, though have customised if further with spikes and stuff.

6: Corvus Armour was an intermediate pattern rushed out to supply the loyalists with some of the features of the still in development Aquilla pattern. Slightly streamlined and more flexible than before, it also boasts a refined sensor suite that was crammed into the beak-like helmet because they hadn’t worked out all the details of miniaturising it yet. To this day, the Raven Guard and several other chapters prefer this armour, because it’s actually slightly stealthier than later models.

7: Aquilla Armour is the generic suit used by most modern marines. In all honesty, the performance differences between this, Corvus and Maximus are pretty minor.

8: Errant armour should have became the standard armour thousands of years ago, then been replaced by further refinements… But the Empire doesn’t really do that whole “scientific advancement” thing anymore. Instead, Errant Armour is an extremely rare variant that only a few Tech Priests actually know how to make. The most visible difference is that it solves the whole exposed joints issue for superior protection, whilst actually having greater range of movement than prior models. It also has a streamlined power system, gauntlets better suited for offense if the marine is stuck without a weapon, and various other benefits that are completely lost when you take into account that most suits that have actually been produced are just recycled Aquilla Armour with the breastplate design of an Errant suit swapped in.

Wow these girls are super rude. 

This man did not just risk everything including being a hero and saving the world, just so your ungrateful ass can go up and make fun of him.

He is the reason why they can sleep so peacefully at night in the comfort of their own home. That skeleton form is the result of unwavering resolve to keep the peace.

Not to mention the fact that they live in a superhuman society. It’s almost on the terms of racist to be making fun of a skeleton-like figure like that.

Man, show some respect…

Do Me Slowly - Part 2

You can find Part 1 here.

Pairing: Reader / Bucky

Summary: Reader has been hired to work as part of the medical staff for the Avengers. She gets assigned perhaps the most difficult patient in existence when James Buchanan Barnes comes bleeding into her office. Now, she just has to decide whether she wants to kill him or do him. Maybe both.

Warning: Cursing; no sexytimes yet, but soon.

Note: If you want to be tagged or anything, let me know? Enjoy!


My appointment of the day hadn’t shown up.

He hadn’t shown up at 2, like he was supposed to. Nor at 2:15 or 2:30 or 2:45 or 3.

It was 4:07pm now and I was staring at a finished progress note and the empty desk space where I kept the paperwork I had to get done for the day.

Done. All done.

I groaned.

I could let it be, write it off as the patient’s—well, client—lack of cooperation and consider my work done. Legally, I would be safe.

Ethically, not so much.

I rummaged for one of the Hershey’s kisses I kept in a drawer in case of emergency situations. Obviously, this was one. With my other hand, I dialed the Chief Doctor’s extensions.

His secretary picked up, of course, because getting the Chief was almost harder that getting my patient to comply.

“This is Chief Lee’s office,” the secretary’s voice came over the speaker. “Good afternoon, Six.”

That’s Dr. Six to you. If they couldn’t be bothered to learn my name, they could at least keep my title.

“Evan,” I said, and took a slight satisfaction in his offended scoff. “I need to speak to the Chief.”

“He’s busy.”

“With what?”

“That’s confidential.”

I bristled. Confidential for a mere six down the chain, I assumed. I’m sure if Drs. Two or Three had called, they would have been put through.

“I have an important matter to discuss with the Chief.”

“Why don’t you tell me instead? Maybe I can help with your little problem.”

My little problem.

Anger settled on my skin like cold air and I felt myself straightened.

“I’ll handle it myself,” I said. Even, calm. “Let the Chief know you wouldn’t put me through.”

I hung up before he could reply.

I would solve my little problems on my own.


The Avengers Tower was a massive labyrinthian beast. Fifty-nine floors, as far as I was allowed to know, each boasting about a million scanners with different clearing settings.

Maybe not literally a million, but it sure felt like it.

Going up and down the elevator alone was a hassle almost too hard to overcome. By the time I stepped into the living quarters the superhumans housed, I was ready to go back up. I popped the Hershey’s I’d brought for the ride in my mouth and scanned my ID one last time. (Hopefully. Not likely.)

The room was empty.

“Good afternoon? This is Dr. Six.”

Not a peep to be heard.

“Dr. Six,” the voice was instantly next to me and I shook with the force of not jumping out of my actual skin. “Is there anything with which I can assist you?”

Fucking hell. I turned to Vision with what I hoped was my most professional face.

“Good afternoon, Vision.” Ok, good. Calm. “I’m looking for Mr. Barnes.”

I wasn’t sure if he was staring at me or through me, but either way I wasn’t too comfortable. I could not remember any other time I had interacted with this particular Avenger—he didn’t really get the kind of wound I could fix and, even if he did, I was too low-level to be the one dealing with it.

I am too low-level for most agents, which should have kept me out of my current situation to begin with.

“Mr. Barnes is in the south gym, I believe.”

That motherfucking bastard.

“Thank you.”

I didn’t have any superpowers, but I could have punched through a wall just now. In the gym. Probably doing some stupid extraneous exercise and opening all his carefully-stitched wounds.

It took more elevator riding, several ID scans, and more fuming than was good for my heart before I finally saw the invincible Winter Soldier (according to himself, I was sure). He sat at a one of those horizontal leg press machines, sweating through his gray shirt and probably his bandages as well.

I straightened my white coat.

“Mr. Barnes.”

I could tell by the muscle jumping at his jaw that he’d heard me. I could also tell he was set to ignore me. This was my Pediatrics rotation all over again.

I made my way to his machine, nodding at Clint Barton before he broke his neck turning at what was happening. Nothing. Just a doctor dealing with a child.

“Mr. Barnes,” I repeated. He ignored me as expected. “You missed your appointment today, but don’t worry because I came to you instead.”

Maybe he’d gone deaf as well as daft.

It took one press of a button to change the settings of the machine from heavy to no weight and the sudden loss of resistance almost sent him out of his seat.

He did look at me then.

“What do you want?”

Better patients. More chocolate.

“To do your follow-up.”

“I’m fine.” He went to change the settings again and I reached out for his wrist.

I was pretty sure he’d stopped more out of shock than because I had the necessary physical strength to stop him.

“I’ll be the one to decide that,” I said, removing my hand before he decided to relieve me of it. “It won’t take long.”

He stared at me and then at the ceiling, as if he were asking the heavens what to do with me. Funny, because I was doing the same thing.

Finally, he opened his mouth even though no sound came out, closed it. Then: “Fine.”

His compliance was so unexpected, I didn’t even know how to answer for a second.

“Great. Excellent. Let’s go to my office.”

“That alone will take forever. Do it here.” He gestured at himself, as if he thought a follow-up appointment entailed a full body scan.

I glanced back at Mr. Barton. “That’s a confidentiality breach.”

His eyes followed my gaze before coming back to me. He really did have the most beautiful eyes to go with that horrendous personality.

“Consider this my consent to breach.” His mouth went up in something that was almost a smile.

What a headache.

I could see pushing it would get me nowhere—it was a miracle he’d even agreed to let me see him. I pulled the disposable gloves I’d brought with me out of my coat pocket.

“Please roll up your pant leg.”

He did so without protest, but with raised eyebrows in the direction of Mr. Barton.

The bandage there was clean and new, which was a relief. I unstuck the tape with care to keep the skin from pulling, only enough so I could look at the wound. There was a little blood on the underside of the gauze, probably from the exercise, but the skin was not hot or tender to touch. At least it wasn’t infected.

“I didn’t bring supplies with me”—because I thought we’d be going back to my office like reasonable people—“so you’ll need to change this yourself again. Have you been putting on the bacitracin?”

“Yes.”

I smiled a little. At least he wasn’t a complete idiot.

“Okay. Now your shirt.”

The cuts on his chest and arm were much less deep, and the one in his abdomen was already healing nicely. Not really a surprise, considering some of the stuff these people could do, but still.

It’s all fun and games until someone gets gangrene.

I put back the gauze on the last wound and pressed the tape back down as well as I could.

“I don’t think you should have a problem if you continue with the bacitracin. Try to keep them without the gauze when you’re not wearing clothes.” Well, that had come out extremely weird. He gave me a look like he wasn’t sure if I’d meant it the way it’d sounded. Oh, God. “I mean, when they won’t be too exposed to contaminants. Also, I’d like you to stop exercising for a couple of days.”

“No,” he said, before casually pulling on his shirt.

Well.

“I don’t think you understand how severe it would be if the stitches on your leg come undone.”

“Then you’ll put them in again.” He blinked extremely slowly, and I had the distinct impression that I was missing his meaning altogether.

“That’ll cause more damage. If you just rest—”

“I said no. You can write me as uncooperative or whatever you want.”

Oh, I for sure was.

I slipped off my gloves and bunched them in one hand. Do no harm, (Y/N). Do no harm. You swore on that.

“Very well,” I hissed. “I’m also adding a recommendation to see one of our Psychiatrist.”

He was full-on frowning now. I was very glad laser vision didn’t fall under his repertoire, even if he didn’t need that at all to kill me.

“Why?”

“I saw on your file that you don’t see anyone regularly and I think you should.”

“There’s apps for that now, I’m told.” Face complete serious, deadpan, no a crease of a smile anywhere.

Had that been… a dating joke?

Sweet mercy.

“The recommendation will be put in. Good luck, Mr. Barnes.”

I didn’t think he expected me to walk away after that. I didn’t think he expected me to keep going after he called me back.

I gave Mr. Barton another nod before I left. He’d stopped his treadmill altogether.


The problem with a lull in missions was the boredom. I mean, more specifically, the paperwork. But mostly the paperwork-induced boredom.

When I applied to med school, no one told me 75% of my job would be sitting on my ass doing form after form after form. Yet here I was.

I sighed almost at the same time my office phone started to ring. I pressed on Line 1 and a blank screen materialized, no video, just audio.

“Hello. Is this Medical Doctor Six?” A female voice came over the speaker.

“Yes. Who’s speaking?”

“Oh, hi. This is Dr. Patel, I’m calling on behalf of a patient you referred.”

This could only end in disaster.

“Did he not show up?”

There was a pause on the line. “Well, he did. In fact, he’s here right now. He’s refusing to speak unless I give him psychiatric clearance, which of course I can’t do under the circumstances.”

Son of a raccoon.

“He is…difficult.” Obstinate. The worst.

“Yes, I see.” Another pause. Then, quieter: “I apologize in advance, but I’m new here and I don’t want to make a mess on my first month. Is there any way you could help?”

Say no. Say no. Say no. Say no.

Maybe she meant help with murdering him.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well, ah, how much do you remember of psychiatric interviews.”

I wished I’d changed my shoes before coming to Dr. Patel’s office. The heels looked nice with my pencil skirt, but didn’t do much for stable stances in front of a displeased James Barnes.

I gave him my most disappointed look while Dr. Patel looked on with what I could only describe as fear.

“Why did you come if you aren’t even going to cooperate?”

“Because someone,” I was pretty sure he had to bite back a growl. “Someone put it on my record that I needed to see a Psychiatrist, and now I’m declared Unfit For Duty until she,” he nodded at Dr. Patel like one might nod at an insect, “says otherwise.”

Oh, shit.

“All the more reason to actually cooperate, Mr. Barnes.”

He was white-knuckled holding to the plush chair, and the wood underneath under the force of his metal arm.

“I’m not going to sit here and talk about my past, there’s nothing there I want to bring back up.”

I tilted my head. Had this man not had a Psych briefing before? Surely…

Dr. Patel piped in from behind me, “Would either of you like some tea?”

“No,” he said. Dr. Patel whimpered in response.

“Yes, please,” I said.

“Ok!” She hightailed out of her own office like Mr. Barnes was nuclear.

I mean, he might be.

I took Dr. Patel’s seat, tucking my skirt neatly under me before focusing on Mr. Barnes. His eyes had never left me. Those eyes.

“Why are you being difficult?”

“I’m being difficult? You strong-armed me into this.” He leaned forward so fast I thought he would stand, but he ended up resting his arms on his legs and keeping on with his frowning. “I don’t need this.”

“It’s just a mental health check. It’s no different than the follow up two days ago.”

Unless he really was unfit for duty, but I didn’t mention that.

“I didn’t want that follow up either.”

Peachy.

“Mr. Barnes, as I understand you have gone through considerable trauma, in your current missions and your past ones as an agent for HYDRA. Talking about this is healthy for you, it would help you unload.”

He did grunt this time. “I don’t want to talk. I want to be left alone. I’ve been perfectly fine without this.”

Perfectly fine was not how I’d put it. Ever.

I sighed. “Okay. Fine. How have you been feeling?”

The change in subject took him aback enough that the frown fell from his face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, in general. Day-to-day. How have you been?”

“I’ve been okay.”

‘Okay’ wasn’t ‘fine’ and wasn’t ‘great’.

I stood up from my chair and went around the table separating us to sit on the chair next to his.

He stared at me like I’d grown another head. I gave him my most serene, trust-me-with-your-secrets expression.

“How do you usually spend your time?”

“I train.”

I gave his leg a pointed look to let him know that was the wrong answer, and was rewarded with a lift of the corner of his lips. Progress.

“What about when you aren’t training? What do you do?”

His gaze dropped to my lips before coming back to my eyes. What was that?

“I watch movies or go out, try to catch up.”

Catch up with life, I assumed he meant. Dear God.

“What’s the last movie you watched that you loved?”

He leaned back from me, probably after realizing he had been leaning forward.

“Is that going into my file? Is this some sort of psychoanalysis?”

Maybe.

“No. I was just curious.”

“Just curious,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

He stayed silent for a while in which we started a weird game of not blinking. It was easy for me, it was very easy to stare at those eyes and pretend there was something nice behind them. The problem was stopping.

“Star Wars.”

“What?” Oh, God. What had I asked before?

“The movies.”

“Oh, yes. Which of them?”

“All of them.”

That brought out a full smile for me. James Buchanan Barnes started looking for my third sprouting head.

“Am I—Um, I brought the tea.” Dr. Patel announced herself in, a cup of steaming tea in each hand. She placed one in front of me and one in front of Mr. Barnes.

“I didn’t want any,” he said, back to frowning.

“It, ah, calming.”

I almost laughed, but managed to keep it in. Poor, scared Dr. Patel and this hulking beast she had to deal with.

“Thank you, Dr. Patel. I’ve finished talking to Mr. Barnes.” I could feel his eyes on me as soon as I spoke the words. I cleared my throat. “You can clear him for duty,” I said. Something like an actual smile seemed to be forming on his face, but I kept going: “But I do want him to attend other sessions.”

What?”

Maybe I shouldn’t be so close to his metal arm.

“To talk about his current life,” I finished.

“I won’t do it.”

I turned to him, feeling the heat of the tea burning my finger where I was holding the cup.

“That’s your choice. I think you should.”

He glared at Dr. Patel then, who was looking like I’d just sentenced her entire family to the guillotine.

Not a bad analogy.

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A/N: Part 3 should be coming soon. More importantly, actual smut should be coming soon or I’d start feeling like a fake 😘 Let me know what you thought!

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Eddie Vedder - Porch live at San Siro Milan 2014