and it’s lights out ,

“  you're  really  not,  ”   she  says  then,  finally,  and  she's  already  looking  back  at  the  screen,  jaw  set,   “  i've  gotten  so  much  better  at  this  over  winter  break,  it's  actually, like, really  embarrassing  for  you.  i  don't  know  why  you'd  open  with  that.  ”   the  loading  screen  flickers  and  she  sits  up  slightly,  shoulders  dropping  by  about  half  an  inch,  which  is  as  close  as  she  gets  to  relaxing  right  now.

She’s probably right. Kernes spent most of winter break outside with his brothers. He also did spend a fair amount of time inside, but when one lives in Australia, one takes advantage of the nice weather. He watches her shoulders relax a little and doesn’t comment on it. “We’ll see. I still think I’m going to kick your ass.” He grins at her. He probably won’t. He definitely won’t, because Fortnite has never been a strong suit of his, but he likes it. And he likes seeing Farhana happy, even if he won’t admit it because he doesn’t really know how to. Maybe he’ll let her beat him today.

She does not like this man. Or creature. Or whatever he claims to be. She draws herself up further. Her fingers tighten into fists and she forces herself to loosen them. Magic is never precise when wielded in anger. She learned that the hard way, eons ago. “How often are you?” She has been sliced open more times than she can count. “I have seen empires die. I have been made to suffer more times than you have completed rotations about the sun. Do not speak to me of being sliced open; you know nothing of it.”

He only has a few with him, and he does as told and goes to fetch them. He comes back with three good sized tomatoes and holds them up as he gets closer to Noël. “I’ve got more on the farm if you ever want to come visit.” He’s got a lot more than just tomatoes on his farm, too. He’s growing a whole salad at this point, but he loves it. “And there’s a whole guest house, so you can bring everyone.” He’d built the guest house himself a few summer breaks ago. He doesn’t use it much, but that’s okay. It’s there when he needs it.

Eric’s eyebrows go up. That sounds incredibly messy and he’s very tempted to ask for the whole story, but he won’t. It’s not Ryan’s place to tell him that. If he ever meets Vanessa, though, he is definitely asking. “He’s adorable.” He wants to pet him but he has no idea how to properly pet a bird, so he keeps his hands to himself. “Yeah, it’s a little addicting. You might end up with more birds.”

He laughs. If Eric has any say in it—and he does, because he has most if not all of the say when it comes to his career—that’s not going to happen anytime soon. “I don’t think so.” He hasn’t won anything for a while, but who knows. He could make a comeback. He shakes his head. “I’ll just get a bigger house. Or build some more rooms for them.” He might have to do both, at the rate he’s going. He’s seen some really cute kittens at the shelter that he keeps going back to visit. The only reason he hasn’t adopted them is because he knows he’s running out of room.

they  shift  their  weight,  roll  their  shoulders  back,  lets  the  silence  stretch  on  until  it  becomes  much  too  awkward  to  not  talk  anymore.   “  hey,  ”   wren  says  finally,  casual  as  they  can  make  it,  eyes  still  fixed  somewhere  down  the  corridor,   “  you're  gonna  let  me  have  the  first  undercut  today,  yeah?  seems  like  the  least  you  could  do.  ”   they  say  it  like  it's  a  joke…  it  is  not  entirely  a  joke.

He glances at them, hoping it seems casual and not like he’s been waiting for them to say something for the past five minutes. “Oh,” he says. He hadn’t thought about that. “Yeah, sure. Go for it.” He’ll bring it up in the strategy meeting. Or they will. It’s probably better if they do it; Rembrandt doesn’t want to seem controlling.

“  our  hometown  hero!  ”   is  hari's  greeting  of  choice,   “  please  tell  me  you  know  when  they're  actually  letting  us  out,  ”     he  says,  and  it  comes  out  more  like  a  complaint  than  a  question.   “  i've  been  here  for  twenty  minutes,  ”   he  adds,  which  isn't  true,  (  it's  been  six,  )   “  i  feel  like  i'm  losing  my  mind.  ”

He blinks, jerked abruptly out of his thoughts by the sound of Hari’s voice. He grins at him. It’s a little lopsided. “Nope. Sorry.” He hopes it’s soon. He raises an eyebrow. “Mate, we haven’t even been here for ten minutes.” He doesn’t know that for sure, but he definitely doesn’t think they’ve been here for ten minutes. If they have, it’s because there’s an actual problem. “Same. You want to go crazy together?”

“  before  you  say  anything,  ”   she  says,  not  looking  away  from  the  loading  screen,   “  and,  alright,  i  don't  know  what  you're  actually  going  to  say,  but  i  don't  want  to  hear  it.  ”     she  tucks  her  feet  underneath  her  and  exhales  through  her  nose,    “  it  was  a  terrible  race  and  the  car  was  terrible  and  i'm  not—  i'm  fine,  i'm  just⸻  ”     a  pause.  she  gestures  vaguely  at  the  screen  with  the  controller.   “  we're  playing  fortnite  and  we're  not  talking  about  it,  those  are  the  terms.”

His eyebrow goes up before he can stop it, but he keeps his mouth shut. She doesn’t seem fine, but he also knows that he’s not allowed to say that, just like she’s not allowed to say that to him. He nods. “Yep.” He turns his attention to the TV screen. “I’m gonna kick your ass.” Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say, but they’re both highly competitive, so it’s probably not.

Rembrandt is not a god and has never claimed to be. He’s also never made a habit of hitting anyone, so he’s pretty sure he’s safe from that. He nods instead of saying any of that out loud. “Good to know.” He also doesn’t think they make print shops like that in Modena anymore. “Do you have anymore historical tidbits for me?” He’s always liked learning about the history of their sport. He always feels like he’s constantly playing catch up.

Eric nearly laughs at the question, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t think Ryan will appreciate being laughed at. He nods instead. “All the time. Everyone thinks that what they see online is how we are in real life. Sometimes it’s true, but I think the majority of us aren’t really like that.” He doesn’t say that most of the fans are disappointed when they discover that their favorite drivers aren’t exactly what they seem. Everyone always says don’t meet your heroes, and Eric tends to be a big advocate for that. “I think that goes for anything in the public eye, though. People expect one thing and can’t comprehend that you’re not that one thing.”

That doesn’t make him feel better at all. He scoffs. “That is reassuring.” He glances at her and raises an eyebrow. She doesn’t care about him. She’s just saying that so he doesn’t get upset with her. He’s going to get upset with her anyway if she keeps talking like that. “Everyone is my enemy.” He’s his own enemy, too, but that feels a little melodramatic even for him, so he keeps that thought to himself. “Even you.” He smiles at her while he says it, hoping it’ll seem like he’s joking. She doesn’t need to know he’s serious. She doesn’t need to know he’s never trusted anyone in his life and he barely trusts himself. Those aren’t things he’s going to share with anyone.

It’s been a very long time since Bucky has been around people as chatty as Peter. He doesn’t mind it. He tunes most of it out, chiming in every now and then when it’s appropriate. When their pursuit brings them to a blank brick wall, Bucky sighs. “Fuck. Okay.” He’s got no idea how they got away; there’s no cars or doors anywhere that he can see. “This is great.” He glances at Peter. “Any ideas?”