moved!!!!!!

It was early in the afternoon, spring crisp in the air. For once Buck had awoken not with pain in his joints but with an energy that was dispersed the night before. A plan was formed with haste, a bag with clothes and food shoved into it, a towel that had seen better days. It took less than thirty minutes for Buck to guide them towards the waterfall. It wasn’t a secret, not really. Buck just never had the time to take Gen to it. By the time he awoke after his transformation it was usually mid-day and in winter the rocks could turn slippery with ice.

He was quick to rid himself of his clothes. Nudity was no longer a thing that bothered him. After years of shredding clothes and turning into a beast each night there wasn’t much Buck was ashamed of. As they dove and splashed around he found that the restless energy settled. The sun was getting higher, warming the clear water. Buck reached out taking Gen’s hands in his pulling her along to the spot near the waterfall, the spray cooling on the skin.

The air had a certain chill to it, Buck could feel the sweat drying on him. Training wasn’t hard physically, but there was a certain mental aspect to it that Buck was struggling with. Bobby had made that clear. He wasn’t sure if the older man was frustrated with him or simply beyond caring. Gen’s words cut through his quiet spiral. Buck looked up from where he was sitting on the roof. The building was old, but far enough away from people that no one asked questions. 

He rubbed at his neck, fingers catching on the uneven scales that had started to form there. Part of him was a little terrified he’d turn into some type of lizard. Realising he hadn’t answered Gen he gave a shrug, turning back to look over the sprawling landscape. “Yeah, well being told you’re a descendant of some powerful beast meant to save the world kinda weighs on you after a while.” He didn’t mean for it to come out so bitter, but Buck had never been one to be the centre of attention, let alone be some mythical hero from a long forgotten prophecy.

The sun was dipping below the horizon, warm winds shifting towards cold. Winter was coming and it was evident by the shorter days and the cold nights. He had tucked away the last of the horses, by next week he’d have to bring out the fleeces for them. Inside the house was warmer but not by much. He spotted Gen sitting on the couch, blonde hair peeking over the top. Walking over he leaned down placing a kiss on the top of their head. “Thought you’d be asleep by now,” he said quietly. Gen had been awake before him and Buck tended to rise before the sun, something about an article needing publishing. He usually paid more attention but Buck had been half asleep not even sure if he was dreaming or if Gen was really talking to him. 

Superhuman didn’t mean invulnerable, though Buck wished it was. Wrapped up in several blankets with a heater pointed directly at him he still felt cold. It had been a long time since Buck had felt anything but warm. Since his powers had activated and then been mutated he’d never been sick. Injured, plenty of times. But the common cold was something of the past, or so he thought. He tried to think where it could have come from. Perhaps the lab of illegal experiments he took down last week, or the alien goo he had accidentally swallowed a couple days ago after wrestling with said alien in space days ago.

What Buck hadn't anticipated was how the flu would affect him. It had started small with him shivering, then his body temperature dropping to normal. Normal ! Buck hadn’t had a temperature in the normal range for years, it made him feel weird. But then came the sneezing and without meaning came the fire. Every time he sneezed or coughed flames burst from him, something that hadn't happened since he got his powers. 

He had no lab, no containment cell that could contain his heat. It was hard to reach out but he’d already burned through three shirts and four pairs of trousers. The last thing he wanted was to burn down his own apartment because he sneezed too hard.

The rumble of a distant storm was loud, it made him flinch every time the room echoed with the clap of thunder. Bad memories, ones he couldn’t distinguish from his own or realities he made up to cope were swirling in his mind. The smell of rain clung to him, and while it didn’t have such a terrible effect as it once did on him, it still brought with it the image of him falling. Perhaps he pushed himself too far, got too cocky. He thought the experiments made him invincible, they only proved to highlight his flaws. It wasn’t a terrible fall, he’d fallen before. It would, to him, be just another failed attempt at proving he was better.

Buck didn’t shiver, he could hardly feel the cold, but there was something about being wet and (broken) hurt that made him tremble slightly. Something draped around his shoulders, he reached up without thinking about it, pulling the blanket tighter and looking up. He couldn’t help the soft smile of thanks in return, dipping his head as he tried, and failed to make himself a little smaller; hoping the blanket could swallow him whole.

Duke lay curled up, tail to snout, in a small ball between them. Overlooking the city it seemed so peaceful, so quiet. It was easy to lean up against the dragon, he felt Duke huff out underneath him with something like contentment. For a moment Buck wanted nothing more than to fall asleep, let Duke’s rising and falling chest lull him into slumber. They’d been up for days trying to get Duke to fly. If it wasn’t Buck it was Gen. The dragon was untrained and impulsive, flying in circles and almost dropping them multiple times. Without either of them having proper training it was hard to discipline the dragon. 

He had awoken that morning with something buzzing under his skin. His meds did nothing to calm him, only seemed to electrify the sensation under his skin. He had done the dishes, folded his laundry but he was still needing something. Duke seemed to be mirroring him, following him around and bouncing around the house. By midafternoon when the sensation hadn’t vanished he grabbed the lead from the door. Jogging through the streets and the park seemed to help both of them. Buck was just happy that Duke had grown out of the stage of running in front of him. It was an hour in before he finally stopped at the edge of the park. Leaning over with his hands on his knees, sweat dripping down his face. Duke sat down next to him, tongue hanging out and panting. 

Then Duke was off pulling at his lead. There was a slight friction burn but Buck gave him more slack rushing to where Duke was heading. It wasn't often that Duke went after something and he was gaining speed. Knowing it would only hurt his hand he let the lead go. It took Buck a couple seconds to catch up just as Duke was jumping on someone. Buck whistled drawing his dog back to him as he rushed over, “I am so sorry,” he put his hands up in apology.

There’s nothing but the desk lamp on, casting a yellow glow on the computer in front of them. The office is empty, a distant sound of humming filling the space. Getting in was easy; a stolen security card, plans of the camera network. It was hacking the software that would be harder. A security protocol set to alert the owner any time someone used it. It would mean they had minutes to escape as soon as they started. The escape route was already planned, vehicles ready a few streets down. 

He felt Gen lean next to him, he turned his head to look at her. She was so close he could practically kiss her, the temptation was there but he knew it wasn’t the time. “You ready for some fun?” he asked, a grin forming on his face. Thinking fuck it, he leaned over and gave Gen a quick kiss making sure not to linge. “For good luck,” Buck said.

As soon as he connected the cable from their description device the clock was on. He pressed a button on the side of his watch starting the three minute count down. The bar across the screen moved silently, rather fastly if Buck had to think about it. A minute and forty-three seconds is all it took. His brows furrowed for a moment but there was no time to linger. Pulling the device he stuffed it inside a secure pouch and into the inside of his jacket. 

They moved in sync, heading for the door instep. Buck pulled the pistol from its holster and held it low. He reached out to the door leading to the stairs but before he could touch it there was an explosion. His ears rang, body flying back and through the glass wall. It took a second too long for him to realise what had happened. Rolling over he searched for his gun and then Gen. She was already getting up as he reached for his weapon.

The countdown didn’t matter anymore, someone else was in the building with them. No words were spoken as they made their way through the blown gap in the wall. First rule of exploding doors; never run into the trap waiting at the other exit. It was twelve floors down and four bodies left in their wake. As soon as they were outside he grabbed Gen's hand. London was busy on a Friday night; an easy crowd to blend into. Except they were streets away from any cover and their transportation. 

Spring lingers in the air, the crispness tickles his nose. The days seem to stretch on and on, he basks in. He’s hunched over the small table near the cooker, chair at the perfect angle to look out the window and see the ocean. The water is endless, kissing the horizon in the far distance. He smells the salt even without being too close. Some part of him does miss it. There's a certain freedom out on the seas. Where the sun kisses his cheeks and the spray of water cools him. 

But the back and forth is making it harder. He never used to come onto land so much. Now it's seasonal; a home split between the two. And the more it happens the less he wants to go back out there. Yet he can feel it, an unnatural pull that draws him back. He knows he has to, he doesn’t have a choice. Impending doom fills him at the thought of being on land all year. Like something is keeping him oceanbound. He hates the feeling, it eats away at him. 

His cheeks are warm yet he can feel the gentle slide of a tear down it. He doesn’t really know he’s crying. Soft footsteps echo behind him, the presence of someone behind him. Buck ducks his head, eyes finally torn away from the sea view. He doesn’t know how long he was staring at it. 

buzzing filled his ears, low and irritating. it wasn't the usual hum of electricity and machinery that filled the place. this was something different. he could feel his heart in his chest beating uncomfortably fast, fingers numb at their tips.

in the darkness of the room it was hard to see but he could feel gen next to him, a hand on his arm. something whispering into his ear, it took a moment - or several, before he could figure out what they where saying.

nightmares still flashed across his vision. metal and blood, screams from either he or gen; buck asn't sure. shifting on the bed he could feel his leg aching, a twinge in his back. the doctors had said his injuries had mostly healed. but there was a long road of recovery ahead. it took him a moment to push through the pain before he could shift to press himself closer to gen, tucking his own face between hers and the pillow.

death was haunting him.

the bowl gets set on the counter, gaze going to gen automatically. it's like looking through the scope of a rifle, all he ever sees is her. he's prepared for something; help with a job, perhaps something more domestic.

but gen's words make him freeze, head cocking to the side. shock runs through his body but isn't evident in his face; he's too trained to show any emotion on his face. it only takes a moment but he reaches out taking one of their hands in his and putting it over his chest. they both know what lies beneath. a faded scar from a bullet, the only bullet he's ever taken for anybody. they can't wear wedding rings, they can't be linked back to each other. but for buck its as good as anything.

"hey," he tips gen's chin up to find their eyes, his own holds a softness he thought long trained out of him. but gen has a way of pulling it out. "are you sure?" he doesn't mean to question her, but in their line of work its not as easy as handing in your notice. leaving the company means certain death. a debt must be paid. "are you sure you want me to leave?"

clouds obscure the sun throwing the time of day off. it's not cold enough to light the fireplace but he's thrown on the old sweater he dug out the back of his wardrobe. it's a little scratchy and he's trying not to think about it too hard.

breakfast is half eaten, the hunger isn't there but he knows he has to eat with his medication. it's easier to sip the coffee in his hands. his mind drifts, its the adhd he thinks. but there's something else curling at his mind making it harder to focus.

there's heat in his cheeks, he ducks his head to hide the rising blush. it's not that he gets flustered easily, however gen has a way that makes him giddy. heart beating in his chest to a beat he can't recognise, the flutter of fresh butterflies in his stomach. the feeling is sticky sweet, it coats his tongue, his brain, his every waking thought. and buck bathes in, wants more of the flustered, too quick heartbeat, the smile she throws his way.

words choke in his throat at her words and it takes his brain a moment to catch up to the rest of their sentence. buck peers at her, smile firmly imprinted on his face. it's almost tempting, with how close they are to lean over and kiss them. he almost does it, finds himself leaning closer. instead he turns back to the salad in front of him clearing his throat. "well why don't you take a seat," he jerks his head to the open door leading out to the small patio in the back.