We're Cursed!

“Oh thank god that was the only thing you heard,” Bobby breathed a sigh of relief, glad this new person only heard his totally solid pun and not the other nonsense he’d been muttering to himself about. “Yeah, that guy. He sometimes worked with the X-Men. And by worked, I mean annoyed us and somehow always got himself shot. He’s an….. Interesting man.”

Bobby nodded, glancing at the cube. 

“I could shove it outside Haven’s walls. But I don’t want it melting and getting all stinky. No one wants that. Or like, tainting the ground it melts on. As for the pool I was just gonna fill it and let it be a pool. It’s been really hot out and I figured it’d be a nice reprieve. Good exercise.” He thought a moment. “I could burn it…” He mused. “Oh yeah, I’m Bobby Drake. Iceman. Whatever. Nice to meet you.”

Fitz tilted his head as he listened, folding his arms across his chest. He figured he’d look less like a trembling leaf this way. “Were you, um, talking to yourself?” He questioned. Fitz could relate to that emotion, getting flustered when others caught him speaking aloud to himself. He figured it made sense to do these days, too many thoughts bouncing around in one’s head and, given the amount of time that he’d been alone, the need to hear a human voice was just too great.

Fitz didn’t point out the use of us when the other man said X-Men, though he was curious. He supposed it made sense, he was either a mutant, an Inhuman, or enhanced after all. “Sounds interesting, though I imagine he’d be useful right about now.” He muttered.

Jemma was getting better. It was a slow process, but she was making progress. The vitamins Bobbi gave her helped a lot. She was getting out of the lab more often and going home every night to take care of herself. Sleeping still wasn’t easy. She only got a few hours of restless sleep per night, but she wasn’t as frightened by it anymore. She was beginning to heal. The key was finding the balance between the amount of time she was keeping her mind busy and the time she allowed herself to empty it completely and meditate.

She was looking over some notes she was going to send to the next lab over. They had been a special request and she wanted to triple-check them. She looked up when she heard her name. Her heart nearly stopped at the recognition of the voice. For a moment, she thought she was hallucinating again, which had happened more than a few times back when she wasn’t getting any sleep or nutrition. But the figure before her was real.

Tears spilled out as she called out Fitz’ name, voice cracking. She ran towards him, burying her head in his shoulder, wrapped her arms around him, and let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding in. At the moment, she didn’t even stop to think about the fact he may not even want her touching him. The outbreak changed people in many ways. She knew that well. But she couldn’t think beyond being in his arms again.

“I—.” her voice cracked again as she pulled away only enough to speak. “I thought you were—“

She couldn’t say the words aloud. She thought he was dead. She had lost hope. But now, with her arms around him, she felt it returning. She held onto him as tight as she could.

“You’re here,” she cried. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Fitz rubbed his hand across Jemma’s shoulders when she embraced him, shocked by the contact. His skin felt electrified, not having experienced much human touch since the outbreak. He felt as though he was going to come undone from the pressure but he also didn’t want her to ever let go. He gave a slight squeeze, eyes burning with unshed tears. He didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to ruin this moment. Jemma was here, in his arms, and they were alive. It was more than he could have asked for, more than he had allowed himself to hope for.

“Y-Yeah, Jem... I’m-I’m here...” He hiccuped, some tears escaping from his eyes despite his efforts. “You’re... You’re...” He shook his head and a sob ripped its way out of his throat, causing him to lose the battle against his own wave of sadness and relief. “You’re okay!” He didn’t know how to tell her that he has also assumed she was dead despite his best efforts to not think about the possibilities.

The robotic canine trotted towards the kitchen.  Handle of a basket held in its mouth.  Moving smoothly, with sleek metal ‘skin’ and a light blue light shining from its eyes.   Ducking into the kitchens it found one of workers there to deliver a request and pick up a snack.  Basket filled it left the kitchen area and started moving back down the hallway headed for the elevator.

Most didn’t react at all to the atypical sight.  Then again this place was founded by Tony Stark, so unusual tech even now may just become common place.   Alternatively this robot regularly made this run and while a few heads still turned, most just moved around or went about their business.   

It perhaps helped that the thing did have a complete metallic skin.  There were not any exposed wires, or parts.  The movements mimicked that of a real canine.   An excellent example of engineering and programming.   Though a bit extreme if just  used to fetch food.

It was odd getting used to the camp, the layout and the people. Fitz was trying to keep his head down, get his bearings, before he approached new people. He’d never been good with people. He wondered what it would have been like to know this existed, to have any inkling that this was possible. He thinks he might have had a little more urgency or at least a tad bit more hope.

Something he had not expected to spot was a robotic dog with a basket of food. Fitz glanced about, noticing that people didn’t seem bothered by the little companion. He quietly followed, taking mental notes about how smoothly this dog was moving, how lifelike the machinery was behaving.