Fic | As In An Empty Station
Title: As In An Empty Station
Author: attilatehbun
Rating: G
Pairing/Characters: Kate Bishop, Eli Bradley, Tommy Shepherd
Word Count: 1100+
Summary: These are some of the things Kate knows.
A/N: Prompted by riko, with the beautiful picture posted at the end of the fic.
AN 2.12: This is now part of a larger series A Mess Is Still A Moment I Can Seize. The next fic is Forget All My Songs About Trains.
::
Kate finds she doesn’t need to tell Tommy not to run.
The grass whiks at her thighs as she follows him, making her think of the bite of the silica, sharp against the thickness of her jeans. She imagines whisper thin cuts all down her skin. She reminds herself to check for ticks, later.
Tommy runs the palm of his hand over the tips of the grass stalks as he leads them. He is more still than Kate has ever seen him, and it is enough to quell her persistent curiosity. For the moment, at least.
Eli does not feel the same, behind her. “Tommy, where--” he says, and his voice is tight and quick and every third step the toe of his shoe bumps Kate’s heel. He stops talking before he even really starts when Kate reaches and finds the back of his hand with her fingers without even turning. She runs her fingertips over his rough knuckles once - just once - before letting her hand drop. She does not miss the splay of his fingers as he tries to catch hers.
“I know it’s around here somewhere, it’s--” Tommy says. His voice is low, almost to himself, and he stops moving, scanning through the grass. Then he goes completely still, eyes focused on a point at the far side of the field.
He runs for the first time that day, blazing across the field as his speed flattens the grass away, an arrow pointing the way.
“I am so glad we came all the way to Jersey for this,” Eli mutters.
The late summer sun beats down on Kate and her shirt clings between her shoulder blades. The heat cracks her lips and she wets them, tongue darting once, twice, against the gasp of air. She feels pulled, stretched, she can reach all the way to Tommy across the field. She’s distorted, distended, she’s a million miles long.
No.
“Come on,” she says. She touches Eli’s shoulder, light. She has no weight to bear. Her feet find the path of flattened grass and Eli falls in step behind her.
::
These are some of the things Kate knows.
Kate knows how to fight. She knows how to bend, how to twist, spin, high kick, left cross, knuckles first and thumb protected. She knows how to turn and grab, arc away, how to use weight to pin.
She knows a single punch to the jaw will almost never result in unconsciousness. She knows an arrow needs to pushed through, not pulled out. She knows how to play the angles of a room. She knows just how much pressure, where to use it, to break a man’s arm in three places.
She knows how to attack, swift and sudden, and leave bodies behind her. She knows the words to say, the soft spots to press, the lines to draw to bend the world to her.
She knows how to keep moving and never, ever, stop.
::
Tommy’s jittering now, slightly, tottering on what turns out to be a stretch of forgotten train track, wooden slats broken, grass pushing at the metal.
“I just wanted to show you...” he says. He tucks his hands into his back pockets and rocks.
Kate balances on the rail, arms stretched to the sides.
“What exactly is this place?” Eli asks. Sweat stands out on his head, breaking against the shadows of stubble he hasn’t gotten around to shaving. The unasked question is loud and clear.
Kate balances on the rail. She toes along the length of it, feeling the seep of heat of sun-warmed metal through the soles of her shoes. Each step is careful, precise, and she doesn’t stop until she reaches the end, the place where the earth swallows the rail back down.
Tommy shudders to the brink of invisibility then reappears. “Back when-- no. When I first discovered my powers, I. I was running because my parents. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I needed to just--” He shrugs, his lips quirk up on one side. “Anyway, I ran out the door and just kept going, and suddenly I was here. And then, well, then I just kept coming back.”
There are cracked rocks pushing their way up through the grass all around them, landmarks of Tommy’s experimentation. Of his learning.
“It’s. I needed it, sometimes,” he says simply.
Kate balances on the rail. She turns neatly, toes a perfect pivot, and makes her way back down the rail. Neither boy makes a move as to steady her hips, catch her if she falls - though Eli looks like he wants to. They both know what she could do.
Eli waits for a long time before replying. “We’re coming back, you know. It’s not forever. It’s--”
Tommy rolls his eyes. Tommy scoffs. Tommy exaggerates and laughs and pushes off with his hands. Tommy leaps onto the other rail. “Oh please, that’s not-- I’m not-- You have way too high an opinion of yourself.” He sticks his hands back in his pockets.
Kate crosses to the other rail and touches his wrists, light. “Come on,” she says, and pulls him down.
::
“Summer’s almost over,” Eli had said that morning. Kate looked up and Tommy looked away.
::
These are some of the things Kate has done.
A boy burst through a window and started a fight. Kate picked up a weapon and made her own way out.
A boy burst through a wall and started to flirt. Kate faced down a captain and rallied a team.
Kate has made more decisions than any of them. And she has made this one too.
::
Kate wonders what the split will feel like, when it comes. It could be as simple as this, this stretching, pulling her like taffy until the thinnest parts of her just tear. She thinks of water sheeting over the edge of a fountain, breaking up seamlessly before it hits the ground. She thinks of the crush of a building as it falls.
The grass now towers over her, tunneling her vision. She sees nothing but sky. To her left lies Eli’s hand; she can’t see it but she can feel the heat radiating from his fingers. To her right lies Tommy’s, equally obscured, equally close. It would barely be movement at all - two inches - to reach. To take either, or both.
Kate pulls her hands to her stomach, and stares at the sky.
::fin::
I am not entirely sure how such a melancholy thing came out of such a lovely picture but, whatever. Shit happens I guess.
title from this poem by pablo neruda
Author: attilatehbun
Rating: G
Pairing/Characters: Kate Bishop, Eli Bradley, Tommy Shepherd
Word Count: 1100+
Summary: These are some of the things Kate knows.
A/N: Prompted by riko, with the beautiful picture posted at the end of the fic.
AN 2.12: This is now part of a larger series A Mess Is Still A Moment I Can Seize. The next fic is Forget All My Songs About Trains.
::
Kate finds she doesn’t need to tell Tommy not to run.
The grass whiks at her thighs as she follows him, making her think of the bite of the silica, sharp against the thickness of her jeans. She imagines whisper thin cuts all down her skin. She reminds herself to check for ticks, later.
Tommy runs the palm of his hand over the tips of the grass stalks as he leads them. He is more still than Kate has ever seen him, and it is enough to quell her persistent curiosity. For the moment, at least.
Eli does not feel the same, behind her. “Tommy, where--” he says, and his voice is tight and quick and every third step the toe of his shoe bumps Kate’s heel. He stops talking before he even really starts when Kate reaches and finds the back of his hand with her fingers without even turning. She runs her fingertips over his rough knuckles once - just once - before letting her hand drop. She does not miss the splay of his fingers as he tries to catch hers.
“I know it’s around here somewhere, it’s--” Tommy says. His voice is low, almost to himself, and he stops moving, scanning through the grass. Then he goes completely still, eyes focused on a point at the far side of the field.
He runs for the first time that day, blazing across the field as his speed flattens the grass away, an arrow pointing the way.
“I am so glad we came all the way to Jersey for this,” Eli mutters.
The late summer sun beats down on Kate and her shirt clings between her shoulder blades. The heat cracks her lips and she wets them, tongue darting once, twice, against the gasp of air. She feels pulled, stretched, she can reach all the way to Tommy across the field. She’s distorted, distended, she’s a million miles long.
No.
“Come on,” she says. She touches Eli’s shoulder, light. She has no weight to bear. Her feet find the path of flattened grass and Eli falls in step behind her.
::
These are some of the things Kate knows.
Kate knows how to fight. She knows how to bend, how to twist, spin, high kick, left cross, knuckles first and thumb protected. She knows how to turn and grab, arc away, how to use weight to pin.
She knows a single punch to the jaw will almost never result in unconsciousness. She knows an arrow needs to pushed through, not pulled out. She knows how to play the angles of a room. She knows just how much pressure, where to use it, to break a man’s arm in three places.
She knows how to attack, swift and sudden, and leave bodies behind her. She knows the words to say, the soft spots to press, the lines to draw to bend the world to her.
She knows how to keep moving and never, ever, stop.
::
Tommy’s jittering now, slightly, tottering on what turns out to be a stretch of forgotten train track, wooden slats broken, grass pushing at the metal.
“I just wanted to show you...” he says. He tucks his hands into his back pockets and rocks.
Kate balances on the rail, arms stretched to the sides.
“What exactly is this place?” Eli asks. Sweat stands out on his head, breaking against the shadows of stubble he hasn’t gotten around to shaving. The unasked question is loud and clear.
Kate balances on the rail. She toes along the length of it, feeling the seep of heat of sun-warmed metal through the soles of her shoes. Each step is careful, precise, and she doesn’t stop until she reaches the end, the place where the earth swallows the rail back down.
Tommy shudders to the brink of invisibility then reappears. “Back when-- no. When I first discovered my powers, I. I was running because my parents. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I needed to just--” He shrugs, his lips quirk up on one side. “Anyway, I ran out the door and just kept going, and suddenly I was here. And then, well, then I just kept coming back.”
There are cracked rocks pushing their way up through the grass all around them, landmarks of Tommy’s experimentation. Of his learning.
“It’s. I needed it, sometimes,” he says simply.
Kate balances on the rail. She turns neatly, toes a perfect pivot, and makes her way back down the rail. Neither boy makes a move as to steady her hips, catch her if she falls - though Eli looks like he wants to. They both know what she could do.
Eli waits for a long time before replying. “We’re coming back, you know. It’s not forever. It’s--”
Tommy rolls his eyes. Tommy scoffs. Tommy exaggerates and laughs and pushes off with his hands. Tommy leaps onto the other rail. “Oh please, that’s not-- I’m not-- You have way too high an opinion of yourself.” He sticks his hands back in his pockets.
Kate crosses to the other rail and touches his wrists, light. “Come on,” she says, and pulls him down.
::
“Summer’s almost over,” Eli had said that morning. Kate looked up and Tommy looked away.
::
These are some of the things Kate has done.
A boy burst through a window and started a fight. Kate picked up a weapon and made her own way out.
A boy burst through a wall and started to flirt. Kate faced down a captain and rallied a team.
Kate has made more decisions than any of them. And she has made this one too.
::
Kate wonders what the split will feel like, when it comes. It could be as simple as this, this stretching, pulling her like taffy until the thinnest parts of her just tear. She thinks of water sheeting over the edge of a fountain, breaking up seamlessly before it hits the ground. She thinks of the crush of a building as it falls.
The grass now towers over her, tunneling her vision. She sees nothing but sky. To her left lies Eli’s hand; she can’t see it but she can feel the heat radiating from his fingers. To her right lies Tommy’s, equally obscured, equally close. It would barely be movement at all - two inches - to reach. To take either, or both.
Kate pulls her hands to her stomach, and stares at the sky.
::fin::
I am not entirely sure how such a melancholy thing came out of such a lovely picture but, whatever. Shit happens I guess.
title from this poem by pablo neruda