fault lines

move me, baby. 

Floyd Lawton was, quite possibly, the last person on his list of priorities. Ever since Waller recruited him for the suicide squad, he’d been much less of a public threat, but Bruce also knew that things were not as they’d seemed. He heard about her murder and he knew all about Floyd’s subsequent association with NOVA, a shift that had worsened his current circumstances rather than improved them. 

And Zoe was still at the manor.

“Did they remove the bomb?” He asked, his voice low, and it was clear that Floyd’s answer would directly influence what action he would take.

Floyd tilted his head to the side slightly, his brow furrowed behind the mask. Even if they hadn’t gotten into any sort of scuffle in years, Floyd had still expected Bruce to do what he always did—uphold justice to a seemingly impossible degree. Floyd should have been arrested and put in prison for good for everything he had done. He had no idea that Zoe was with him—how could he? All he knew was that Zoe was with Selina and Selina kept her safe. He had never even met Selina.

Floyd figured that it was only a matter of time until he ended up crossing paths with the enigmatic bodyguard that followed the Dents around like a lost puppy. He wasn’t sure what to expect—all he knew was that there had to be much more under the surface than what was seen in the corners of all the press shots of the city’s leadership.

Floyd had always been at odds with Batman. It had happened before he had honed his craft, when he was first put in prison—since then, it had been decided that he was no longer the villain of interest and they had passed by each other like ships in the night, but Floyd was always aware of his presence in the city. Now, they had come face to face again. 

The dreams were plaguing him so badly these days that he couldn’t even consider sleeping anymore. It was so bad that every time he lay down, he had images of Waller’s death splashing across the backs of his eyelids before he was even unconscious. He needed to get out of that house. He needed to do something to numb the numbness—he needed to find a way to feel something other than empty. 

It seemed to be a silent understanding that there was no reason to discuss it further. Despite their opposite personalities, Harley had always supported Floyd and been a sharp ally during their time on the suicide squad. He was one of the few that knew how smart she really was. 

She grinned as Lucy reached for the keys. “She likes shiny things. Takes after her mama.” Leaning down, she kissed the top of Lucy’s head sweetly, only looking back up at Floyd when he mentioned Jay. “I mean, he don’t really do anythin’, but he brings her presents sometimes! Ya know, when he’s in a good mood.”

Floyd still got nightmares from killing Waller. No one else. He didn’t know what it meant, but obviously, getting out of that situation had done a number on him more than the other shit that he had been through. Maybe it was just the compounding effects of trauma. People didn’t end up like Floyd because they had a peachy-keen childhood. 

He’d killed enough people to make it almost pointless to be bothered by adding more to the list, but it was meaningless to tell himself that it was the Winter Soldier and not Bucky Barnes if he just kept doing it. So when they reached the floor and he had his back pressed against the wall, weapon held tight against his chest, he decided (not for the first time) to make a different choice. If Floyd wanted bodies, he could do it himself. Bucky was just there to incapacitate and let it be handled another way.

Once Floyd was with him, Bucky nodded toward the door. One kick and he could have it down. He was just waiting on that Ready signal.

Now that he was the only one technically in charge of NOVA’s foot patrol, Rick’ free time was basically nonexistent. He used much of it to transmit important information to Scott Summers. Whatever he had left was reserved for sleep. It was easy to feel like an automaton, thoughtlessly performing for those around him while mentally disconnecting from the duty he’d pledged himself to. 

When he returned to headquarters, he was immediately pulled aside and brought to a room. When he saw Floyd there he frowned, paused, and glanced over his shoulder. “What is this about?” There was a slow, building dread in the pit of his stomach that he tried not to focus on. They’d both been brought here for a reason; he wasn’t very eager to discover what that reason was. They’d been careful - but in this day and age, careful didn’t mean what it should.  

Floyd’s foot was propped up against the desk in front of him, his dirty boot leaving a mark behind on the light wood. Obviously, it was a purposeful move. He interlaced his fingers lazily in his lap and looked up at Rick as he was walked around to the chair next to Floyd. “Are we getting another assignment?” NOVA had sent them out on a minor job together to gauge their skills. Obviously, having dealt with much worse when they were with ARGUS, they crushed the assignment. Floyd didn’t expect anything else. 

He didn’t think about the fact that if it was an assignment, it would most likely go through Rick alone. The higher-ups rarely interacted with Floyd, and he couldn’t exactly blame them. He had murdered his last boss in cold blood. He supposed it was a good thing that he was skilled enough to be of value to someone else. However, when the woman on the other side of the desk started talking, he felt like all the blood rushed to his head. When she was done talking, he leaned forward and looked at her with the most incredulous expression he could muster. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” 

The woman repeated herself in that godawful monotone. “Because you and Agent Flagg have engaged in a romantic relationship, you’re required to file your relationship with HR. That’s all.” 

Floyd had been so careful that he hadn’t anticipated the possibility of anyone reading between the lines. He knew how to hide things. He knew when to pick and choose the aspects of his life that he wanted people to see. Growing up in a military family made him realize what was important to advertise and what he needed to keep close to the chest. He’d always done a good job at compartmentalizing what was important. 

Perhaps it was self-defeating, but it was impossible for him to be unmoved by the way Floyd’s touch lingered, or by the way his fingers grazed his palm. He held his breath. There were a million thoughts in his head. It was a struggle to articulate what he was actually thinking. “Doesn’t matter,” he finally said. His voice sounded far away to his own ears. “It doesn’t change anything.” Curling his fingers, he gently pressed Floyd’s fingertips, running his thumb over the angle of each nail.

The difference between Floyd and Rick’s demeanors was that Floyd’s personality wasn’t controlled, even if it was similar. Trauma did that to him. The numbness that came along with most days was a reflexive behavior, something that Floyd rarely thought about. However, this meant when he really felt things, he felt them deeply, sharply, and painfully.

Sometimes, when he thought about Rick, he couldn’t breathe. 

Floyd’s brow pinched and he leaned heavily against the table on one palm, his other hand curving around Rick’s fingers a little tighter. If NOVA was keeping him on this tight of a leash, that meant he wasn’t going to see Zoe any time soon. It meant that things hadn’t changed at all, he had just sold his soul to another slave driver. His jaw shifted uncomfortably, obviously clenched. His eyes started burning. 

He had been on patrol all night with Bucky and now he was exhausted, not only from the patrol but really turning up the charm. He had to get his kicks somewhere, right? When he got back to HQ to check in, one of the assistant directors immediately pulled him aside and put him in an office alone for far too long, considering who he was. This definitely wasn’t ARGUS anymore—they trusted Floyd way too much. 

While Bucky was no stranger to following orders, he sure as hell didn’t like getting direction from Floyd. For the time being he went along with it just to avoid giving away their position. He kept his back angled toward the wall, weapon drawn. Despite his heavy boots and endless amount of other things on his person that should’ve made noise, his steps were silent and he took the stairs without a sound.

“Puh-lease, I know betta than that.” Surprisingly, Harley didn’t push the subject. Waller’s execution had been something they’d all fantasized about, ever since she’d planted the bomb in their heads. Joker had managed to free her, but the same couldn’t be said of the others. Floyd had lived under her control longer than any of them had. She was surprised Waller had been left alive this long.

She beamed proudly and nodded, bopping the end of Lucy’s nose with one finger. “Ain’t she gorgeous? She looks a lot like my baby pictures. Jay’s startin’ ta pay attention ta her now, too, ‘cause she’s said some words. Called ‘im dada an’ everythin’!” 

“It’s nothing.” Floyd was grateful that she didn’t push more. He knew that it was a big deal but he couldn’t help but feel like he had only cut one head off a multi-headed beast. Like a hydra, two heads were sure to grow in its place. There would be an even bigger problem that would crop up to take Waller’s space in his life, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to shoot his way out of it. 

Floyd picked up his keys from his pocket, jangling them lightly in front of Lucy. She reached up with one hand to grab at them as Floyd jangled them just out of her reach. “What does he even do with the baby?” 

The camaraderie between them had become a running joke with the other men who assumed they were nothing more than unlikely allies. It went far deeper than that. Rick suspected that there were those who suspected that there was something else under the surface, but no one had dared to question them. His own reputation was to thank for that. He was Rick Flag, decorated soldier. Anyone who valued their career wouldn’t dare say a word.

“It’s not going to happen.” He didn’t mince words. There was no point in it. If their roles were reversed, Rick knew he would prefer blunt honesty to pretty promises. “Not right now.” He didn’t have to look at Floyd to know that he would be disappointed. It seemed like it was natural for him to turn, to put a hand on his arm, as if he were going to share some stern words of wisdom - but the touch lasted longer than it should have. “Doesn’t matter. There’s nowhere worth going, not out there.” 

Floyd figured that their gruff manner with each other kept the others from thinking there was anything other than a begrudging respect there. They all knew that Floyd and Rick had worked together but none of them knew in what capacity. They definitely didn’t know how unprofessional it got. Floyd was grateful for that if only because this was hard enough to figure out with the prying eyes of a group of neanderthals. 

“I figured.” Floyd wasn’t surprised but that didn’t stop him from being unhappy with the outcome. He knew that Rick didn’t have to look to know how Floyd felt, so he was grateful that Rick didn’t—because if he looked up, all he would see on Floyd’s face was disappointment. He couldn’t hide it. Floyd looked up when Rick touched his arm, the contact lingering just long enough to get even Floyd’s heart to pick up its pace. When Rick dropped his hand, Floyd suddenly shot his hand out. He grasped Rick’s wrist for a moment. opening his mouth as if to say something, though no sound came out. He dropped his hand just enough so his fingers could brush up against Rick’s palm. 

“Everyone, huh?” Somehow he doubted that, but maybe Floyd meant ‘everyone’ in the same shitty position they were. Bucky wished his situation was a unique one - not because he wanted it, but because it wasn’t a hell he’d wish on anyone. Even someone as god damned irritating as Floyd. He stopped walking. For a few seconds he stopped breathing, too. “Inside. Third floor.” His voice was almost too low to hear.

Neither of them were ready or willing to solidify whatever strange dynamic existed between them, as if not discussing it would make it disappear. If anything, it made it even more obvious. The tension in the room only grew the longer it was only the two of them there, not saying the very thing that was on their minds, making small talk instead of approaching anything substantial. 

“They got me in charge of the whole city. Valdez took off.” Normally Rick had enough time to sleep and take care of what little remained of his personal life - before Waller’s death it had been all about Zoe. Now that Selina was taking care of her, he had virtually no existing obligations. “I’m trying to convince the boss that you’re ready to patrol on your own, so we can cover twice the ground. It won’t be easy.”

Floyd knew that the longer they put off talking about things, the worse it would be. However, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything, not after their moment in the car—or all the moments that had followed. Every single second with the two of them, alone, slipping through his fingers like water, too ephemeral to hold. He didn’t get a chance to slow down and really think about what he was doing, ever. 

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” he replied. “He was talking about fucking off for a while.” Floyd leaned back against the counter, turning his head to keep looking at Rick as he folded his arms over his chest. “They gonna let me go out? Or is it looking like it’s not going to happen?” Floyd pressed his lips together for a moment. “I can’t imagine why they’d let me out. It’s not like ARGUS ever did,” he grumbled, looking down at his feet as he dug his toes into the floor.