Before The Sun Rose
Disclaimer: Marvel’s Marvel’s. The story’s mine.
Notes: This is a prequel to ‘Don’t Look Back’, a story of mine which can be found e.g. on The Dayspring Archive. Feedback and comments of any kind would be loved at email@example.com If you wish to archive this, just ask and ye shall receive. :)
Dedicated to Lyssie as a late birthday gift. Happy birthday, dear! *snugs* And thanks for beta’ing, too. <g>
I lay in his arms, bathing in the pale moonlight, shining from the window. I couldn’t sleep. And the reason wasn’t the full moon shining in my eyes. It was him. He was leaving on another mission in a few hours, off to save the world. Again.
Maybe I was bitter. I hadn’t been on a mission in months. I just didn’t want to. I didn’t get a rush out of it anymore. And I was still on sick-leave, even though the arm was almost completely healed, it didn’t even hurt that much these days.
I was lying to myself. I knew that and I also knew the futileness of it. It wasn’t just that I didn’t want to fight or that I didn’t get a rush out of this anymore, it was because I was...dying. Dying. How could lady luck give out such a rotten hand to me? How could _I_ be dying. That seemed to make a difference. A difference on my outlook in life.
I untangled myself from his arms and walked to the window. There were no clouds in the sky and the moon seemed to stare right back at me. It was mocking me. Feeling a chill, I put on his shirt and sat down in the comfy chair, sitting myself comfortably with my legs propped on the table, and looked back at him.
He was so beautiful in his sleep, silver hair framing his smiling face. Smiling? He did that only in his sleep. And he looked at peace. So at peace with the world. He looked years younger, the lines on his face almost not even there. I guess I had aged for the both of us.
If I asked him, would he quit this line of work with me? For me? Would he, _could_ he, settle down and have kids, a dog, a house in the suburbs and a nine to five job? Questions without answers I desperately needed. And the answers ruled out whether I lived or died, and if I lived, with whom?
As if on cue, he stirred and opened his eyes, looking straight at me. “Dom, come back to bed.”
“I don’t feel like sleeping,” I said, one hand brushing through my jet black hair. I knew it was at least half a lie.
“Who said anything about sleeping?” He leered at me, or at least tried to. Sleepy eyes and a leer don’t quite get together. I couldn’t help but snicker. He did look cute though, with that sleep mussed hair of his.
“You’re a dirty old man,” I commented, climbing in bed anyway.
He wrapped his arms back around me, pulling me in a kiss. “And that’s the reason you’re here.”
How could she have that much energy, I wondered as she finally lay asleep in my arms. I checked my watch. Flonq! It was past 4 already. I had to get up and go take a quick shower.
I shifted, ever so slightly, to get out of the bed, easing her into a comfortable position with my telekinesis. I stifled a groan, getting up. Was I getting old? Was this job getting to be too much for me in my old age? Was that the reason my muscles ached so much these days?
I wished I didn’t have to go this morning, there was just this lingering feeling of something being just a little bit...off. Not quite right. Was this about what I caught from Dom earlier? Something so fast I didn’t know quite what it was, but that it was still something serious, something bad.
I woke up and he wasn’t there, his side of the bed still warm. I heard him singing Sinatra in the shower and smiled. He actually had quite a good voice. I checked the alarm clock by the table. It was blinking 4:25. Why was he up this early, I asked myself, frowning. Shit, he was going on that mission with the kids, the mission that raised the hair in my neck, and not in a good way.
I hated feeling this helpless, this...angsty. I wasn’t a Summers, even if I flonqed one on a continuing basis, I wasn’t supposed to angst.
And I couldn’t remember when I last felt this restless, this out of place. I didn’t want to be here, I didn’t feel like I belonged here anymore. I wanted out. The question is, did I want to take Nate with me? And would he go if I asked.
I tried to sleep, but I heard him getting out of the bathroom and searching for clothes to wear. And I knew. It was now or never. Ask and you’d know whether the answer would be truthful. It was too early in the morning for him to lie, he hadn’t even had his coffee yet.
Domino propped her head on a pillow and looked at me. “You heard me. Stay. Don’t go on the mission to Jakarta.”
I got back to buttoning my shirt. “I have to. The kids need me.”
“I need you.”
I looked back her. Her voice had been bantering, but she was serious. There was something else about this than her just wanting somebody to keep her warm.
I was just about to ask her what was wrong, when somebody knocked on the door. “Come in,” she said, pulling the sheets closer to her.
Sam peeked in, blushing when at the sight of Dom in bed and looked quickly towards me. “Sir, we’re set to go.”
“I’ll be right there, Sam,” I replied, quickly grabbing my psimitar from the shelf. I walked to the door and paused, looking at her. “Dom...”
She smiled. “Nate, it’s all right. I’m fine. Go already, before the kids think I took you hostage.” She stood up and gave me a quick kiss.
I brushed my hand through her hair and gave her a peck on the forehead. “We’ll talk when I get back, okay?”
I watched him go with Sam, my silly question forgotten as soon as he stepped out of the door, more important things filling his mind. I knew know, didn’t I? I knew whether he could, or would, leave with me. I knew where his priorities lay. Not that I blamed him, I just wasn’t cut out for that line of work anymore.
And I cried, bitter tears of knowing this would set the chain of events starting from this moment, clutching on to the satin sheets as I felt rather than saw the last shadows of moonlight turn into rays of sunlight as the sun rose.
on to Don't Look Back
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