Lovesick Blues

Well, yeah, okay. So it did happen. But we don't include statistical outliers now do we? That's bad data analysis, you said it yourself. Exceptions prove the rule. You used to drive the bigwigs absolutely nuts with that one. It could've been more to do with how you said it, though. Anybody would be a little sour on someone who kept talking down at them like they were the stupidest person alive, nevermind if it was true or not.

The point is, well, I guess I don't really know what the point is. I don't know if I want to kiss you or slap your stupid beautiful face. Because what the hell, Doctor? Decades of spouting off about how you don't need anyone, and you were still ready to kiss the ground that old fuck walked on, all just because you shared a few genes. Big deal. Blood's not the only thing that matters. What about loyalty? You know I've been here, right? I know your history inside and out, even the cold greasy bits you try to sweep away. Hell, it's not just your history either. I know you inside and out, too. And I know how hard you try to keep up appearances even when you're burning up inside. I know. This is one of those times, isn't it? If you want I can pretend I don't see it, like usual. I can be your regular, dependable, devoted agent. I can say the right thing at the right time. And if you want to hit me that's fine. I don't mind. I always kind of liked it.

I kept hoping, though, that you'd realize you were following the wrong guy. That everything you ever really needed was right here. And why didn't I say anything? Because it didn't matter. It wouldn't have made a difference, stubborn as you are. You'd snap and bite and leave me just the same. I could see it, though. You were going to get hurt; I just didn't realize how badly. And there was nothing I could do about it. If I thought the only way to keep you safe was to leave, I'd've walked right over the edge of the world. Now, though? I honestly don't know if I can trust you to not get yourself killed. So just stay right there until I can figure this out, okay? That's how this is supposed to work. My job is to keep you alive, so that you can be you. I failed once and I'm not about to fail you again.

Now if you could just quit getting blown up or crushed or teleported to another galaxy for five fucking minutes— okay. That wasn't fair. I’m sorry. I just keep thinking, what's it going to be next time? Dismembered? Frozen in ice? How many more ways can you possibly come up with to abandon me here? I know, I know. I’m not being fair. Again. The job's risky one way or another. I know that. I've blocked more shots than you'll ever know about. You want proof? Look at me. Do you see these scars? Touch them. Please. Please.

You know, I’m looking right at you and I still don't believe you're here. Maybe— maybe if I close my eyes it'll seem more real. Did you ever do that? Keep your eyes shut tight, holding onto a fading dream as long as you could? I did. I always have, even now. The dream never stayed, though, and sooner or later I'd just be laying there in the dark, covered in sweat, the sheets gone all sticky, my heart pounding. Do you have any idea how many times that's happened to me? Even after you were gone it kept happening again and again and again. It was torture— no, it was worse than that. Pain is one thing. It's bearable, and it teaches you so much. Anyway, most of the time it's just the body warning you something isn't right. But my mind was being ripped to shreds with every day that I woke up knowing that you weren't coming back. I could feel myself slipping away. And now here you are warm and breathing and I can't quite make myself relax about it. I keep feeling like if I look away you'll be gone. So I have to trust my senses, right? I have to believe that you'll stay this time. Help me believe it.

I'm going to shut my eyes now, okay? I won't ask you to promise you won't go anywhere, or even to say anything at all. I'm going to stand here and just listen in the dark. I can hear you breathing, thank god. It's a little shuddery but it's there. You're close; I can feel how warm you are. Your hands on my skin. I missed this. Missed you. You're alive. When I open my eyes again you'll be right there in front of me. And you'll make that face that says Stone, you're being stupid again. It'll be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and then I'll really know this is more than a dream.

I don't know how you got here, and I don't care. We can figure it out later on. Right now the only thing that matters is that you're back. You're here, and you are never leaving me, even if I have to chain us together. You're too important; I won't lose you again. Keep touching me. That's it. You don't have to be gentle. You know this body. You know how strong it is, how devoted. It's yours. I can tell you the story behind every scar, or you can shut me up, just don't stop what you're doing. You don't know how long I've wanted this. I kept your old gloves; I'll get them for you later on and help you build your armor back up. But for now I need your skin and the bite of your nails and those little tremors. It's from all the stress, I know. It's been a hell of a day and you're probably tired. Soon it'll be time to rest. I'll take care of you.

I always have, right? It's been just you and me for so long I almost forget that we're two separate people sometimes. It's like I'm your right arm, moving without you really thinking about it. Or I was, anyway. I want to be, still. You don't have to say anything. Just let me take care of you. See, I knew you'd give me that look. It feels good, though. Means I still know you. That was something I was so scared of, you know. I was so afraid I'd forget you. Not you as a person— that would be impossible. You've left an indelible mark, not just on me but on the whole world. No, I was afraid of losing the little details, like the way your eyes get all aquinched up at the corners when you're amused by something, or how you always lick at the corner of your lips after you take a sip of coffee.