fic: running in circles
running in circles
Misfits
Everyone/Superhoodie, pg-13, 2254 words.
disclaimer: Not even a bit mine. All to E4/Howard Overman.
notes: SUPER-SPOILERS FOR SERIES 2. AU for S02E03 and on, sort of, BECAUSE THEN 2X04 HAPPENED ARGH. Spoilers from sentence one. Also written for this prompt off the kink meme: It's not just Alisha who Simon's back for.
tell me your secrets
and ask me your questions
oh, let's go back to the start
running in circles, coming up tails
heads on a science apart
( the scientist, coldplay )
Of all the reasons Simon goes back, she is the very, very first-
-but she is not the last.
i. alisha
"You fall in love with me."
It's the truth. Simon doesn't make a habit of telling lies; only when he has to, and only to the people who deserve to be lied to. He can see her tumbling down into the warmth of it now, with him. She's wondering what she's feeling, and why she's feeling it-maybe she thinks it's stupid hormones, stupid excess of interest, simple physical attraction. But she's falling for him, he knows. Falling hard.
They all do, after a fashion.
ii. curtis
So it's inevitable, then, that she can't continue with Curtis-can't possibly hold up their relationship when something so much better has been offered to her. It's not her fault-never hers, or anyone else's-but there's only so much a person can take of not touching before it becomes too much to bear. Simon feels for Curtis; caught between lovers and not even knowing it.
Or knowing more about it than he should.
(But then again, it hasn't quite been love, with Alisha. There was attraction, yes. Adoration, yes. But not love. Not yet.)
So he appears to Curtis after Alisha, because dealing with time is a tricky business (and he should know), so there's always a chance of another flash-forward. If he doesn't control Curtis' reaction, Curtis will talk to them all. Out of concern, out of friendship, out of wonder. So he cleaves to him like a shadow until Curtis can't ignore his presence any longer.
"Don't you ever get sick of following us around?" he snaps, whirling on the spot, high among the industrial blocks of Thamesmead Housing Estate; the same structures where Simon had first learned to fall and jump and hang on for dear life, and then leap without thought or fear of losing it.
Simon half-grins at that, but says nothing. Doesn't say no. Doesn't say, I was hoping you would be the ones to follow me.
Curtis just looks at him funny. "Look-what do you want?"
Simon crooks his fingers. Come with me.
Curtis does.
+
"Why're you telling me this?" Curtis says later, staring at Simon, and knowing it's Simon, and almost fearing him a little; Simon can see it reflected there in the dark glass of his eyes. "Why me?"
Simon smiles briefly. Shrugs. "Because you deserve to know." Because you need to tell me how to do this, when the time comes.
"Me."
"You." Simon nods. "But you can't tell the others. Especially me. Don't tell me anything."
"I won't. I promise." Curtis says, and Simon believes him.
So then Curtis shakes his head. And then he laughs, and looks up to the white fluorescence of the warehouse lights. "My God, this is so fucked up, like. I can't believe it's you."
And when Curtis touches his face in searching, nervous awe, Simon lets him.
iii. kelly
Kelly-
Well, Kelly can read minds.
He knows she can't do it from a distance; it's why he's never come close enough to let her get inside his head like that. But he knows it's only a matter of time until she can do amazing things with her power; focus it, channel it, knock a person apart with it, and she'll figure it all out on her own because she's street-smart and and driven and doesn't take 'no' for an answer.
He's always appreciated Kelly, just as she's always stood up for him. She's kind, even if she doesn't like to show it much-especially not to Nathan. But even back then, when Simon's self-worth was based upon the comments he received from other people, Kelly always made him feel better than he thought he deserved. He wants to thank her for that.
Kelly.
He's outside her bedroom window, but she doesn't know it yet.
"Simon?" she says, turning around.
Her brow creases, trying to figure out why she can see him, why he's not there when she can clearly hear his voice rattling about in her head. "What the fuck," she says frankly, to herself. "If you're sneakin' around all invisible, Simon, I'll fuckin' shank ya."
Kelly, you heard me. It's me. I'm here.
And then she's staring at a black-masked figure standing on the window ledge, mouth agape. He holds up a hand in a parody of greeting, but he's grinning a little underneath the mask, and she must have sensed his cheekiness because she scoffs before she looks properly astonished.
"Oh my god, you've gone nutters," she deadpans.
Not yet, he thinks, coloring the thought with amusement. And he can see from her face that she's not as surprised or as angry as she's pretending to be. In fact, she's smiling.
"I fuckin' knew it!" she says, and then- "You dick! What'ya hangin' about my window for? For fuck's sake. Come in."
He slides in, takes the mask off. She walks up to him and thwacks him on the head, but lightly, fondly. "This is so weird," she says, surveying him. "I knew it, though. Whenever you were around. I knew it was you. Not for real, like I know now, but I think I always knew, like, in the back of me 'ead, right? Ever since I got my power, ever since you started followin' us. That is well freaky, though, you creepin' about at night outside my window like a proper stalker."
Sorry, he thinks. I had to be discreet. None of the others are supposed to know.
She stops. "So you're from-"
The future, yes.
"Yo' what? How d'ya get from there to here, then?"
It's a long story, and I can't tell you all of it.
"Right," she snorts. "Well, ya better tell me most of it, mate. Spill."
+
They end up curled on Kelly's couch; Simon's head in her flannel lap as she cards her fingers through his hair, going on about all the things she hears people think, versus all the things she wishes they would think. It's hard, she says, because people are never as nice as they seem-there's always something ugly beneath the surface.
"Except for you, Simon," she adds, thoughtfully. "You're a bit weird, but I've never 'eard ya think a single shit thing about me since I've known ya. Or anyone, really. I feel like, I dunno. That's worth something, y'know? Like it was always you who it was gonna change things. 'Cos you're the only one who can."
"That's kind of you to say," Simon tells her, and it's the first time he's spoken all evening.
Kelly runs her fingers against his scalp, scratches gently, and smiles down at him as his eyes start to close in muted pleasure. "Yeah," she says. "And the funny thing is, I really believe it."
iv. nathan
Simon hasn't ever really known how to deal with Nathan, but nobody ever has, including Nathan.
He remembers all they've been through, all they've put up with together; how he'd suffered at the hands of Nathan's special brand of humor. He doesn’t begrudge Nathan any of it, though; only a truly broken person would act the way Nathan does, and despite all of the conflicted, angry emotions Nathan’s made him feel, Simon can only forgive him for it.
“Well, well, look who it is,” Nathan says. "Our very own resident stalker Batman-wannabe. Look-I like the get-up, it's very..." he makes a 'ta-dah' motion with his hands, "-but to be honest, I just don't think you have the voice for it."
They're alone on the roof of the community centre, and when Nathan had opened his eyes and saw Simon (masked, anonymous) standing just a few feet away, he’d startled, then tried valiantly to cover it with forced nonchalance. When Simon approaches, purposefully, slowly, Nathan scoots back in his lawn chair and shoves up his sunglasses and tries to put distance between them.
“Hey now,” he says, holding up his hands. "I didn't mean it! You can be Batman if you want to. It's your fundamental right as a mental patient. No hard feelings."
Simon tosses him a note.
Nathan stares at him suspiciously, bends to pick it up, and by the time he straightens again, Simon's gone.
+
"-Jesus!"
Nathan jumps as Simon drops in front of him.
"Oh, it's just you," he says. "My lucky day."
He looks tired. It's the middle of the night-it's inside the community centre-and Nathan's just finished raiding the last of the alcohol; he has a bottle of Margaux in hand and has been pulling drinks from it for a while. He takes another large swig before continuing.
"I know you saved me and all, way back when, but all of this-" he motions between the two of them, "is beginning to look a lot like a murder set-up, do you know what I mean? Fair warning, though. If you're here to kill me, you might as well give up now. I'll only come back to bite you in the arse."
"I don't want to kill you," Simon says, and it's a bit muffled from the mask, but well-enough understood. "I just want to tell you something."
After Nathan recovers from the absolute injustice of being replied to, he scoffs. "Oh, is that so? Is that why you gave me that note? A time and place. Ooh, so mysterious. You really are crap at this."
"It guaranteed that you'd be alone, and that you'd be curious," Simon says.
"Yeah, well," Nathan says, then pauses. "Hold on-do I-"
Going through this a few times hasn't lessened the amusement of watching recognition flash over his friends' faces, but with Nathan, it's almost a crawling familiarity-like he doesn't particularly want to believe it. Like there is no way in hell that it could be who he thinks it is. Simon figures this is a good a time as any to peel off his mask; when he does, Nathan stares at him, dumbfounded, mouth open, eyes wide, and after Simon explains, he begins to laugh.
"You little bastard," he says, slightly hysterically. "You creepy little bastard! Un-fucking-believable. So you've grown a brass set in the future, well done. What did it take? Years of therapy and a few paid blowies? Because I don't blame you, man. It's hard out there for a friendless stalker. I am shocked, genuinely."
Simon looks at him in concern. "Do you need to sit down?"
Then Nathan collects himself, running a hand through his curls, tugging at them. "Nah, I'm good, I'm good. I'm just trying to work out in what world this could possibly happen, but you know, other than that, I'm peachy."
After a moment, Simon says, "Nathan-you can't tell anyone else. Not Kelly, not Alisha, not Curtis, not me. Don't tell me anything."
"And what happens if I do?" Nathan says, swinging around.
Simon walks closer, to the edge of Nathan's makeshift bed-mattress, crowding Nathan up against the railing until the bottle is held precariously half over the loft, and half over the floor a story below. "I've already trusted you enough to show you who I am, Nathan. The least you could do is to keep a secret for me."
There is something there, behind his smile, when Nathan answers. "Yeah, the least I could do."
Simon just looks at him.
Nathan pauses, then looks off the side, eyes flicking up and down to random points of air, staring at nothing, at anything but Simon's face. "Fine, whatever. I'll keep your stupid secret."
Simon smiles, then. A tiny smile, but one nonetheless. And he knows that Nathan keeps his promise; because there are many things that happen in the future, but Nathan lying to him is not one of them. And Nathan himself-well, Nathan is a constant in an ever-changing world. He's still an annoying twat, and he's still capable of idiotic arrogance, but for the first time in his life he has friends, and Simon knows that Nathan will do anything to help them.
Nathan looks down at him. "So why are you telling me, anyway? It's not like I have anyone's best interests at heart. It's one of my more unsurprising character flaws."
Simon knows this isn't true; but if Nathan wants to believe it, that's fine.
"Where I come from-" he says. "It's complicated. You'll know when it happens."
Nathan doesn't want to take that for an answer, but Simon doesn't tell him anything else. He's left looking slightly gobsmacked as Simon leans in, inches closer, says, "Everything will turn out all right, in the end," and kisses him chastely on the lips.
Then he vaults up and over the railing, and Nathan's left yelling after him, "Hey! You can't just kiss and run! Come back here, you bastard tease! Come back!"
v. all together now
But in the end, he does what he came here to do; he saves them all (and loves them all), in different ways, from things that would have ended badly-though in Nathan's case, it's borne more from the desire to avoid causing him unnecessary pain, as Nathan can't die, no matter how hard he tries.
The one who he most wants to tell remains in the dark, but that's just how it has to be. It'll all come to an end soon enough, anyway. Then, he can start over.
Misfits
Everyone/Superhoodie, pg-13, 2254 words.
disclaimer: Not even a bit mine. All to E4/Howard Overman.
notes: SUPER-SPOILERS FOR SERIES 2. AU for S02E03 and on, sort of, BECAUSE THEN 2X04 HAPPENED ARGH. Spoilers from sentence one. Also written for this prompt off the kink meme: It's not just Alisha who Simon's back for.
tell me your secrets
and ask me your questions
oh, let's go back to the start
running in circles, coming up tails
heads on a science apart
( the scientist, coldplay )
Of all the reasons Simon goes back, she is the very, very first-
-but she is not the last.
i. alisha
"You fall in love with me."
It's the truth. Simon doesn't make a habit of telling lies; only when he has to, and only to the people who deserve to be lied to. He can see her tumbling down into the warmth of it now, with him. She's wondering what she's feeling, and why she's feeling it-maybe she thinks it's stupid hormones, stupid excess of interest, simple physical attraction. But she's falling for him, he knows. Falling hard.
They all do, after a fashion.
ii. curtis
So it's inevitable, then, that she can't continue with Curtis-can't possibly hold up their relationship when something so much better has been offered to her. It's not her fault-never hers, or anyone else's-but there's only so much a person can take of not touching before it becomes too much to bear. Simon feels for Curtis; caught between lovers and not even knowing it.
Or knowing more about it than he should.
(But then again, it hasn't quite been love, with Alisha. There was attraction, yes. Adoration, yes. But not love. Not yet.)
So he appears to Curtis after Alisha, because dealing with time is a tricky business (and he should know), so there's always a chance of another flash-forward. If he doesn't control Curtis' reaction, Curtis will talk to them all. Out of concern, out of friendship, out of wonder. So he cleaves to him like a shadow until Curtis can't ignore his presence any longer.
"Don't you ever get sick of following us around?" he snaps, whirling on the spot, high among the industrial blocks of Thamesmead Housing Estate; the same structures where Simon had first learned to fall and jump and hang on for dear life, and then leap without thought or fear of losing it.
Simon half-grins at that, but says nothing. Doesn't say no. Doesn't say, I was hoping you would be the ones to follow me.
Curtis just looks at him funny. "Look-what do you want?"
Simon crooks his fingers. Come with me.
Curtis does.
+
"Why're you telling me this?" Curtis says later, staring at Simon, and knowing it's Simon, and almost fearing him a little; Simon can see it reflected there in the dark glass of his eyes. "Why me?"
Simon smiles briefly. Shrugs. "Because you deserve to know." Because you need to tell me how to do this, when the time comes.
"Me."
"You." Simon nods. "But you can't tell the others. Especially me. Don't tell me anything."
"I won't. I promise." Curtis says, and Simon believes him.
So then Curtis shakes his head. And then he laughs, and looks up to the white fluorescence of the warehouse lights. "My God, this is so fucked up, like. I can't believe it's you."
And when Curtis touches his face in searching, nervous awe, Simon lets him.
iii. kelly
Kelly-
Well, Kelly can read minds.
He knows she can't do it from a distance; it's why he's never come close enough to let her get inside his head like that. But he knows it's only a matter of time until she can do amazing things with her power; focus it, channel it, knock a person apart with it, and she'll figure it all out on her own because she's street-smart and and driven and doesn't take 'no' for an answer.
He's always appreciated Kelly, just as she's always stood up for him. She's kind, even if she doesn't like to show it much-especially not to Nathan. But even back then, when Simon's self-worth was based upon the comments he received from other people, Kelly always made him feel better than he thought he deserved. He wants to thank her for that.
Kelly.
He's outside her bedroom window, but she doesn't know it yet.
"Simon?" she says, turning around.
Her brow creases, trying to figure out why she can see him, why he's not there when she can clearly hear his voice rattling about in her head. "What the fuck," she says frankly, to herself. "If you're sneakin' around all invisible, Simon, I'll fuckin' shank ya."
Kelly, you heard me. It's me. I'm here.
And then she's staring at a black-masked figure standing on the window ledge, mouth agape. He holds up a hand in a parody of greeting, but he's grinning a little underneath the mask, and she must have sensed his cheekiness because she scoffs before she looks properly astonished.
"Oh my god, you've gone nutters," she deadpans.
Not yet, he thinks, coloring the thought with amusement. And he can see from her face that she's not as surprised or as angry as she's pretending to be. In fact, she's smiling.
"I fuckin' knew it!" she says, and then- "You dick! What'ya hangin' about my window for? For fuck's sake. Come in."
He slides in, takes the mask off. She walks up to him and thwacks him on the head, but lightly, fondly. "This is so weird," she says, surveying him. "I knew it, though. Whenever you were around. I knew it was you. Not for real, like I know now, but I think I always knew, like, in the back of me 'ead, right? Ever since I got my power, ever since you started followin' us. That is well freaky, though, you creepin' about at night outside my window like a proper stalker."
Sorry, he thinks. I had to be discreet. None of the others are supposed to know.
She stops. "So you're from-"
The future, yes.
"Yo' what? How d'ya get from there to here, then?"
It's a long story, and I can't tell you all of it.
"Right," she snorts. "Well, ya better tell me most of it, mate. Spill."
+
They end up curled on Kelly's couch; Simon's head in her flannel lap as she cards her fingers through his hair, going on about all the things she hears people think, versus all the things she wishes they would think. It's hard, she says, because people are never as nice as they seem-there's always something ugly beneath the surface.
"Except for you, Simon," she adds, thoughtfully. "You're a bit weird, but I've never 'eard ya think a single shit thing about me since I've known ya. Or anyone, really. I feel like, I dunno. That's worth something, y'know? Like it was always you who it was gonna change things. 'Cos you're the only one who can."
"That's kind of you to say," Simon tells her, and it's the first time he's spoken all evening.
Kelly runs her fingers against his scalp, scratches gently, and smiles down at him as his eyes start to close in muted pleasure. "Yeah," she says. "And the funny thing is, I really believe it."
iv. nathan
Simon hasn't ever really known how to deal with Nathan, but nobody ever has, including Nathan.
He remembers all they've been through, all they've put up with together; how he'd suffered at the hands of Nathan's special brand of humor. He doesn’t begrudge Nathan any of it, though; only a truly broken person would act the way Nathan does, and despite all of the conflicted, angry emotions Nathan’s made him feel, Simon can only forgive him for it.
“Well, well, look who it is,” Nathan says. "Our very own resident stalker Batman-wannabe. Look-I like the get-up, it's very..." he makes a 'ta-dah' motion with his hands, "-but to be honest, I just don't think you have the voice for it."
They're alone on the roof of the community centre, and when Nathan had opened his eyes and saw Simon (masked, anonymous) standing just a few feet away, he’d startled, then tried valiantly to cover it with forced nonchalance. When Simon approaches, purposefully, slowly, Nathan scoots back in his lawn chair and shoves up his sunglasses and tries to put distance between them.
“Hey now,” he says, holding up his hands. "I didn't mean it! You can be Batman if you want to. It's your fundamental right as a mental patient. No hard feelings."
Simon tosses him a note.
Nathan stares at him suspiciously, bends to pick it up, and by the time he straightens again, Simon's gone.
+
"-Jesus!"
Nathan jumps as Simon drops in front of him.
"Oh, it's just you," he says. "My lucky day."
He looks tired. It's the middle of the night-it's inside the community centre-and Nathan's just finished raiding the last of the alcohol; he has a bottle of Margaux in hand and has been pulling drinks from it for a while. He takes another large swig before continuing.
"I know you saved me and all, way back when, but all of this-" he motions between the two of them, "is beginning to look a lot like a murder set-up, do you know what I mean? Fair warning, though. If you're here to kill me, you might as well give up now. I'll only come back to bite you in the arse."
"I don't want to kill you," Simon says, and it's a bit muffled from the mask, but well-enough understood. "I just want to tell you something."
After Nathan recovers from the absolute injustice of being replied to, he scoffs. "Oh, is that so? Is that why you gave me that note? A time and place. Ooh, so mysterious. You really are crap at this."
"It guaranteed that you'd be alone, and that you'd be curious," Simon says.
"Yeah, well," Nathan says, then pauses. "Hold on-do I-"
Going through this a few times hasn't lessened the amusement of watching recognition flash over his friends' faces, but with Nathan, it's almost a crawling familiarity-like he doesn't particularly want to believe it. Like there is no way in hell that it could be who he thinks it is. Simon figures this is a good a time as any to peel off his mask; when he does, Nathan stares at him, dumbfounded, mouth open, eyes wide, and after Simon explains, he begins to laugh.
"You little bastard," he says, slightly hysterically. "You creepy little bastard! Un-fucking-believable. So you've grown a brass set in the future, well done. What did it take? Years of therapy and a few paid blowies? Because I don't blame you, man. It's hard out there for a friendless stalker. I am shocked, genuinely."
Simon looks at him in concern. "Do you need to sit down?"
Then Nathan collects himself, running a hand through his curls, tugging at them. "Nah, I'm good, I'm good. I'm just trying to work out in what world this could possibly happen, but you know, other than that, I'm peachy."
After a moment, Simon says, "Nathan-you can't tell anyone else. Not Kelly, not Alisha, not Curtis, not me. Don't tell me anything."
"And what happens if I do?" Nathan says, swinging around.
Simon walks closer, to the edge of Nathan's makeshift bed-mattress, crowding Nathan up against the railing until the bottle is held precariously half over the loft, and half over the floor a story below. "I've already trusted you enough to show you who I am, Nathan. The least you could do is to keep a secret for me."
There is something there, behind his smile, when Nathan answers. "Yeah, the least I could do."
Simon just looks at him.
Nathan pauses, then looks off the side, eyes flicking up and down to random points of air, staring at nothing, at anything but Simon's face. "Fine, whatever. I'll keep your stupid secret."
Simon smiles, then. A tiny smile, but one nonetheless. And he knows that Nathan keeps his promise; because there are many things that happen in the future, but Nathan lying to him is not one of them. And Nathan himself-well, Nathan is a constant in an ever-changing world. He's still an annoying twat, and he's still capable of idiotic arrogance, but for the first time in his life he has friends, and Simon knows that Nathan will do anything to help them.
Nathan looks down at him. "So why are you telling me, anyway? It's not like I have anyone's best interests at heart. It's one of my more unsurprising character flaws."
Simon knows this isn't true; but if Nathan wants to believe it, that's fine.
"Where I come from-" he says. "It's complicated. You'll know when it happens."
Nathan doesn't want to take that for an answer, but Simon doesn't tell him anything else. He's left looking slightly gobsmacked as Simon leans in, inches closer, says, "Everything will turn out all right, in the end," and kisses him chastely on the lips.
Then he vaults up and over the railing, and Nathan's left yelling after him, "Hey! You can't just kiss and run! Come back here, you bastard tease! Come back!"
v. all together now
But in the end, he does what he came here to do; he saves them all (and loves them all), in different ways, from things that would have ended badly-though in Nathan's case, it's borne more from the desire to avoid causing him unnecessary pain, as Nathan can't die, no matter how hard he tries.
The one who he most wants to tell remains in the dark, but that's just how it has to be. It'll all come to an end soon enough, anyway. Then, he can start over.