colletivum

"I never did hold much to the whole idea that names have to carry a certain amount of weight," she tells him, grabbing his plate and clearing it too, the same way she always has with her siblings. "It's not about the name. It's about the way the person carrying it acts. You're acting very well."

He kind of hopes his mom would have been glad to hear he was carrying it well. He's sure as hell tried over the years.

"Things are different than they used to be, but thank you."

He blinks when she takes his plate like she's always been doing it, and didn't just appear in the woods earlier tonight.

"Uh... I think so. Should be in the right hand cabinet next to the stove. It's not loose leaf, though. All my tea comes in bags that you steep in the mug."

                                 "I CAN IMAGINE. Though I guess it's even worse when they take the shape of someone you love?" And then you have to kill the thing wearing your friend's face? You might know it's not your real friend, but it will still fuck with your mind. At least it would with Steve's. He dislikes mind tricks. Give him a straightforward enemy to punch, and he's all in.

"Yeah... it sucks if it's taking the shape of a loved one. When I was about 12 or 13, we were tracking one. It took the shape of my dad. I nearly couldn't do it. I threw up so hard after I couldn't breathe."

Even now, after everything, he's pretty sure he'd still react that way for similar reasons with his dad. He's not sure if he'd react worse to shooting a skinwalker or actually shooting his dad.

He leans into Steve as he wriggles lower in his seat, chin brushing against his shoulder with a soft hum.

Once she's off the phone with the bodyguard, Rossi lets out a quiet breath. He knows enough about Leila's choice in bodyguard to know that the man is a walking army. Whatever harm might come to her without him, she's safe from it as long as she's got him by her side. Rossi feels better knowing that he's on his way to her.

Leila exhales softly, full of weariness.

"You'd be so proud of me, Rossi. I learned from the team and I have a go bag already. I think Peregrine has a second bag around here as well. ...Will you make lasagna when you get back?" she replies, already grabbing what things she knows her girlfriend has over here, and trying not to let nerves get to her.

Clearly, they haven't gotten to her enough to not ask for lasagna. She might not eat meat much, but she has exceptions, and 95% of those exceptions are Rossi's cooking.

"You are everything I ever wanted and ever needed," he whispers, and he's speaking both as the man he gives the mirage to be and the God whom they all worship. "You are mine, and I am yours." Of course, III and now IV are included, but they belong to Him first, figuratively and physically. They should all be grateful that he was happy to share. "If we were to live any other life, I would still want to spend it with you, my love," he lets the kiss linger for a moment, and the tips of his fingers sneak under the edge of the mask without lifting it.

He always respects when Vessel wears it, but sometimes, when he knows nobody else is watching, he can be cheeky without being disrespectful.

Vessel melts into the touch and the affectionate words, a small rumble of an inhuman purr in their chest. Yet another Change from their God that marks Vessel as no longer human. II is usually the one privy to those purrs, and III slightly less so. In time, IV will hear them as well, and know the truth of Vessel's devotion to Sleep.

The soft approval from Sleep only settles them further, and they chuckle when II declares Sleep will be visiting tonight.

"I suppose I'll have to try and sleep tonight, then. Otherwise, Sleep will be visiting IV, I suspect, and focusing all His attentions there. Not that that is a bad thing, but I have missed being on the black sands with Sleep. Not sleeping as frequently is a blessing and a curse."

There was a time where they didn't sleep due to the nightmares that plagued them. Cruel faceless beings with crueler hands that they couldn't place by the time they woke, but the pain of lost memories stuck with them like a brand.

It was a long time before they were able to sleep peacefully through the night without being haunted. Too brief a time before the Changes began pulling them from Sleep's shore more frequently, and for longer periods with each passing month.

                           STEVE LETS HIMSELF IMAGINE THAT: Finding Dean, wrapping him in his arms, then taking the quinjet straight to where his brother is studying (or maybe even practicing law already). A family reunion. Maybe some tears because every movie shows it like that, even if Steve's personal reunion with Bucky has been quite the opposite. "Yes," he murmurs, "something good always comes from misery in the end."

Nora's quiet throughout the flight after that, even dozing a little because a five hour flight is a pretty decent haul. It's... disconcerting to not see a bit of air traffic aside from the quinjet, and none of the radio chatter that might go with it.

When they finally touch down, it's just as quiet as the air, worse even than the quiet of New York because it's the middle of nowhere. Even worse, it's heading towards sunset and the night.

Steve unhelpfully suggests whatever Dean was hunting could still be here.

She secretly hopes the damn thing got caught in the Blip. She fears Dean did as well, but just in case, she sticks close to Steve. She's just a normal, garden variety human, after all.

She nodded at the comment though, still not entirely sure she believed him. "Salt and iron, got it," she said, making a mental list. Salt, iron, her evidence. She didn't know how much she trusted Dean but she was willing to go along with it. Anything that meant she could help Lilly find rest, really.

It was a matter of time as far as he was concerned. It would either take an especially long time or no time at all because of how young Lilly had been. Youth did odd things because kids weren't fully grown and capable of emotional control in the way adults were.

"Try to stay out of trouble until then," he smirked, nodding to her.

Sure, he was the more likely of the two to get in trouble, but she had clearly already had her share of it long before he came along.

"Don't it take a long time ta get ta all dose places," he asked, stirring the food. "Ain't neva been able ta sit in a car fo' too long. Only use m' truck when I'm huntin' down gators in oder bayous. Get calls sometimes, me, people askin' me t' relocate deir gators so deir richy rich houses are free."

"It do. It can take days sometimes to head from one place to t'other. Sometimes, weeks if I'm goin' t' somewhere like Alaska. Only been there th' one an' dat was enough for me. I was raised on th' road, tho. Easy when it's all you know, kiddo," he explained. A smooth roll up into standing position and joining Beau. It's easy enough to slice the andouille, working effortlessly with the knife to chop it up for his son.

His son.

He still can't get over the fact he's got another kid. Part of him wants to feel guilty for sleeping around so much.l Kids who grew up without a dad, and never knowing about him or, at least, not knowing what he looked like.

He swallowed, shifting momentarily from amusement to discomfort. The change didn't last long as he plastered a new smile on to replace the old one.

"I don't have to read your mind to know your heart, Alaster. We're all human, so to speak. We all dream of things that are impossible, but there are few who can make it possible. I can make it plausible, at least, but that's neither here nor there. You don't strike me as the boring sort. Normal, perhaps, but not boring."

She can make a few educated guesses, perhaps. She can read body language well enough, and facial language even better if someone's not actively masking. She doesn't need to touch him to know that HenchCon is not the life he wants.