21. (misfits) before the sun;
title: before the sun
fandom: misfits
characters/pairings: alisha bailey; simon bellamy, seth; understones of simon/alisha
rating: pg. warning for character death
words: 1356
summary: and the cycle just so happens to break by her hand, not his. or the one where alisha makes a really good decision and saves herself.
notes: deals with 2x07 and season three finale. i wanted closure that didn't end in a timeloop. written for the prompt hey, when we first met, I thought that time had come for me to die;but now I see, that you had come to bring in here new life. title from alicia keys' superwoman. ( also on AO3 and DW. )
“I don’t want anything for it,” she says.
Seth leans across the table, arms folded. She hates his suit. “How about I give you forty-eight hours to make that decision, yeah?”
“Why? You get a power. Power means money.” It’s very simple math, she wants to say. Taking someone’s kindness and shoving it back at them is something Alisha excels at. “Why the fuck do you care?”
Seth shrugs, looking a little sheepish. “Let’s just say I could use a little good karma.”
She touches Seth’s hand, hesitantly, reluctantly, already thinking of ways to throw the table up between them if this doesn’t work. His hand grips around hers with power that isn’t possessive. It’s a shake of hands. A simple touch she’s missed for the last few months.
There’s a whole burst of light. Honestly, this shit belongs in the comics.
*
When everyone loses their powers, he calls.
She answers after she rubs her hands raw of Nikki’s blood.
*
He’s right.
She comes back in forty-eight hours.
“So, about that money you owe me, yeah?”
*
“Now without our powers, that shit that happens in the future isn’t going to happen,” she says. It sounds confusing after she lets it out. It sounded so much better in her had, more articulate.
Simon frowns. He’s shaking his head. Her hands grip his, playing with his fingers, just because she can. She shuffles on the edge of the bed, her bare knee touching his clothed one. “No, Alisha. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Maybe it does,” she says. “I don’t know about any of this time travel bullshit, but I know that things can change, yeah? You changed the future by saving me.”
“That’s a part -”
“Can you just listen for once?” she interrupts, her hands gripping his tightly. He still looks like a frightened animal, his hands sitting limp in hers, his back arched away from her body. She can still trail her hands down his back in bed and he’ll always be like this, skittish, afraid, thinking her power will come back to bite them in the arse. No good comes to those who murder probation workers. Nothing good ever happens to them. “What’s the point in coming back to the past if the future is just going to be the same shit?”
Simon’s silent. “To spend time with you,” he says, like he’s meant to die. Like this future, his future, ends in the past in a warehouse with a bullet eating away at his ribcage.
“Now we have forever,” she says, ducking her head so she can catch his eyes. “Sounds better than a few months or years, yeah?”
“I -” He looks down at their hands, his fingers tentatively curling into hers. There’s a small smile on his face. “Yeah, Alisha.”
*
“My power is such shit. Again,” she says.
“It’s not that bad,” Simon says, holding her hand as they walk along the boundary of the community centre. They’re supposed to be picking up litter. “We match,” he says, smiling.
She grins. “Yeah, well, it’s still stupid. What’s the point of being in someone else’s shoes? I’m not some fucking map.”
“You could cheat,” he says. “Like in school. On a test.”
She arches an eyebrow, looking at him. She swings the empty trash bag in her hand. “I’m not in school, Simon.”
“If you were, I mean. It’d be pretty cool.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she says, still grinning. “At least you’ll see if I fail or not.”
“See,” he says. “Match.”
*
“Ow, fuck,” she glances down at her hand, seeing the cut open along her palm.
“What is it?” Simon appears beside her, hand on her arm. “How did you do that?” He can’t see the gash in her palm, but her refusal to tear her fingers away and lay it bare for him to see gives the impression. He’s always worried, keeping an extra eye on her just in case something happens.
“I don’t know,” she says. Being stupid is the answer. Hanging around sharp objects is another. She curls her palm up, which is a mistake, as it hurts even more, but she starts towards the bathrooms. “It stings.”
“You all right?” he trails behind her.
“Yeah,” she says. They approach the vending machine guarding the lockers. “Gonna put some water on it. That’s what you do, yeah?”
“It’ll sting.”
“Then you can kiss it better,” she says, grinning. She looks over her shoulder at him. “I’ll only be a second.”
“You don’t ...” he trails off, stopping beside the machine as she opens the door with her back. His hands are in his pockets. He shuffles, unsure of what to do with himself. Sometimes it’s startling to see how Superhoodie shifts into Simon who shifts into the weird kid who apparently likes to sniff knickers.
Alisha moves to the bathroom and turns the tap on, keeping her palm curled underneath the water. It’s cold on her knuckles, making her pull away sharply. She waits a few moments before uncurling her hand, placing it underneath the water. She’s looking in the mirror, seeing her hair is a mess, her headband isn’t sitting right on her head, before she realises there’s no sting. Looking down, the open seam of her palm has been stitched over with new skin.
*
He burns the suit.
Instead of feeling free, unweighed down by the what ifs and possibilities, she feels like she’s drowning. Tie the concrete to her feet and let her sink, Simon. Alisha without the threat of Superhoodie is an Alisha who doesn’t understand that good things sometimes happen to moderately good people.
*
Virtue Girl. Alisha doesn’t bother to learn her name. Maybe that’s her first mistake.
Or maybe it’s her second. Telling her to live the life she didn’t get to live, that’s her first.
Her third is not seeing this coming. She can force herself into another’s shoes, even if they don’t fit her feet, even if they’re huge and she falls out of them, or too small and they cut off her circulation. She should’ve seen this coming. He already did, in some way or another, but he didn’t see the ripple effect. The one problem with superheroes is their inability to see past their own noses - or self-sacrifice, in this case.
When the knife pulls at her throat, all she can think about is I told you so.
*
There’s a magical number. She never quite figured it out until now.
Forty-eight.
*
It’s not exactly forty-eight days ago, but it’s a multiple of it, if that counts at all, when Nathan Young sells his power for less money than everyone else.
She gets a call, one hour and forty-eight minutes later, from Seth. “Got a power for you, if you’re interested.”
She’s not. That’s why she goes.
“It’s worth more than yours,” he says. “Less ...” He tries to make a joke, but thinks better of it. He’s in a half-shrug pose before he drops it, relaxing back into his chair. “It’s locked away. Can’t exactly make money on that.”
“Then why are you giving me a power?”
“You seem like you can use it,” he says. “Once gave a guy a power to make a girl fall in love with him,” Seth shrugs. “No clue how that’s supposed to fucking work, considering what he asked for, but maybe this one can give you something of a life.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. She refuses to take a seat. “Are you going to tell me what the fuck you’re giving to me?”
He grins. “I just told you, yeah? It’s called life.”
Alisha rolls her eyes. “Kind of over this cryptic bullshit.” But she holds her hand out, anyway. The only thing she has to lose is something she’s apparently destined to, anyway, if Simon’s to be believed.
*
Forty-eight hours after Virtue Girl becomes Murder Girl, Alisha wakes up.
And the cycle just so happens to break by her hand, not his.
fandom: misfits
characters/pairings: alisha bailey; simon bellamy, seth; understones of simon/alisha
rating: pg. warning for character death
words: 1356
summary: and the cycle just so happens to break by her hand, not his. or the one where alisha makes a really good decision and saves herself.
notes: deals with 2x07 and season three finale. i wanted closure that didn't end in a timeloop. written for the prompt hey, when we first met, I thought that time had come for me to die;but now I see, that you had come to bring in here new life. title from alicia keys' superwoman. ( also on AO3 and DW. )
“I don’t want anything for it,” she says.
Seth leans across the table, arms folded. She hates his suit. “How about I give you forty-eight hours to make that decision, yeah?”
“Why? You get a power. Power means money.” It’s very simple math, she wants to say. Taking someone’s kindness and shoving it back at them is something Alisha excels at. “Why the fuck do you care?”
Seth shrugs, looking a little sheepish. “Let’s just say I could use a little good karma.”
She touches Seth’s hand, hesitantly, reluctantly, already thinking of ways to throw the table up between them if this doesn’t work. His hand grips around hers with power that isn’t possessive. It’s a shake of hands. A simple touch she’s missed for the last few months.
There’s a whole burst of light. Honestly, this shit belongs in the comics.
*
When everyone loses their powers, he calls.
She answers after she rubs her hands raw of Nikki’s blood.
*
He’s right.
She comes back in forty-eight hours.
“So, about that money you owe me, yeah?”
*
“Now without our powers, that shit that happens in the future isn’t going to happen,” she says. It sounds confusing after she lets it out. It sounded so much better in her had, more articulate.
Simon frowns. He’s shaking his head. Her hands grip his, playing with his fingers, just because she can. She shuffles on the edge of the bed, her bare knee touching his clothed one. “No, Alisha. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Maybe it does,” she says. “I don’t know about any of this time travel bullshit, but I know that things can change, yeah? You changed the future by saving me.”
“That’s a part -”
“Can you just listen for once?” she interrupts, her hands gripping his tightly. He still looks like a frightened animal, his hands sitting limp in hers, his back arched away from her body. She can still trail her hands down his back in bed and he’ll always be like this, skittish, afraid, thinking her power will come back to bite them in the arse. No good comes to those who murder probation workers. Nothing good ever happens to them. “What’s the point in coming back to the past if the future is just going to be the same shit?”
Simon’s silent. “To spend time with you,” he says, like he’s meant to die. Like this future, his future, ends in the past in a warehouse with a bullet eating away at his ribcage.
“Now we have forever,” she says, ducking her head so she can catch his eyes. “Sounds better than a few months or years, yeah?”
“I -” He looks down at their hands, his fingers tentatively curling into hers. There’s a small smile on his face. “Yeah, Alisha.”
*
“My power is such shit. Again,” she says.
“It’s not that bad,” Simon says, holding her hand as they walk along the boundary of the community centre. They’re supposed to be picking up litter. “We match,” he says, smiling.
She grins. “Yeah, well, it’s still stupid. What’s the point of being in someone else’s shoes? I’m not some fucking map.”
“You could cheat,” he says. “Like in school. On a test.”
She arches an eyebrow, looking at him. She swings the empty trash bag in her hand. “I’m not in school, Simon.”
“If you were, I mean. It’d be pretty cool.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she says, still grinning. “At least you’ll see if I fail or not.”
“See,” he says. “Match.”
*
“Ow, fuck,” she glances down at her hand, seeing the cut open along her palm.
“What is it?” Simon appears beside her, hand on her arm. “How did you do that?” He can’t see the gash in her palm, but her refusal to tear her fingers away and lay it bare for him to see gives the impression. He’s always worried, keeping an extra eye on her just in case something happens.
“I don’t know,” she says. Being stupid is the answer. Hanging around sharp objects is another. She curls her palm up, which is a mistake, as it hurts even more, but she starts towards the bathrooms. “It stings.”
“You all right?” he trails behind her.
“Yeah,” she says. They approach the vending machine guarding the lockers. “Gonna put some water on it. That’s what you do, yeah?”
“It’ll sting.”
“Then you can kiss it better,” she says, grinning. She looks over her shoulder at him. “I’ll only be a second.”
“You don’t ...” he trails off, stopping beside the machine as she opens the door with her back. His hands are in his pockets. He shuffles, unsure of what to do with himself. Sometimes it’s startling to see how Superhoodie shifts into Simon who shifts into the weird kid who apparently likes to sniff knickers.
Alisha moves to the bathroom and turns the tap on, keeping her palm curled underneath the water. It’s cold on her knuckles, making her pull away sharply. She waits a few moments before uncurling her hand, placing it underneath the water. She’s looking in the mirror, seeing her hair is a mess, her headband isn’t sitting right on her head, before she realises there’s no sting. Looking down, the open seam of her palm has been stitched over with new skin.
*
He burns the suit.
Instead of feeling free, unweighed down by the what ifs and possibilities, she feels like she’s drowning. Tie the concrete to her feet and let her sink, Simon. Alisha without the threat of Superhoodie is an Alisha who doesn’t understand that good things sometimes happen to moderately good people.
*
Virtue Girl. Alisha doesn’t bother to learn her name. Maybe that’s her first mistake.
Or maybe it’s her second. Telling her to live the life she didn’t get to live, that’s her first.
Her third is not seeing this coming. She can force herself into another’s shoes, even if they don’t fit her feet, even if they’re huge and she falls out of them, or too small and they cut off her circulation. She should’ve seen this coming. He already did, in some way or another, but he didn’t see the ripple effect. The one problem with superheroes is their inability to see past their own noses - or self-sacrifice, in this case.
When the knife pulls at her throat, all she can think about is I told you so.
*
There’s a magical number. She never quite figured it out until now.
Forty-eight.
*
It’s not exactly forty-eight days ago, but it’s a multiple of it, if that counts at all, when Nathan Young sells his power for less money than everyone else.
She gets a call, one hour and forty-eight minutes later, from Seth. “Got a power for you, if you’re interested.”
She’s not. That’s why she goes.
“It’s worth more than yours,” he says. “Less ...” He tries to make a joke, but thinks better of it. He’s in a half-shrug pose before he drops it, relaxing back into his chair. “It’s locked away. Can’t exactly make money on that.”
“Then why are you giving me a power?”
“You seem like you can use it,” he says. “Once gave a guy a power to make a girl fall in love with him,” Seth shrugs. “No clue how that’s supposed to fucking work, considering what he asked for, but maybe this one can give you something of a life.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. She refuses to take a seat. “Are you going to tell me what the fuck you’re giving to me?”
He grins. “I just told you, yeah? It’s called life.”
Alisha rolls her eyes. “Kind of over this cryptic bullshit.” But she holds her hand out, anyway. The only thing she has to lose is something she’s apparently destined to, anyway, if Simon’s to be believed.
*
Forty-eight hours after Virtue Girl becomes Murder Girl, Alisha wakes up.
And the cycle just so happens to break by her hand, not his.