* @ofantchild / closed flashback starter.
there were some things that were forgotten with the passage of time. specifies got murky, details slipped away, memories fractured - things happened. that was just how it was. but just as surely as how it was guaranteed that 95% of memories would never stay intactā¦ there was still the 5% that would. the ones thatād be remembered in painful detail, always. scott had a lot of those. cassieās deathĀ topped them all, still fresh, always would be. his divorce with peggy ( oh yeah, he WISHED he could forget all the details of that one ). meeting hope. cassieās first word. putting on the suit for the very first time. cassie walking for the very first time. dying. ok - he didnāt remember that as much as he remembered being brought forward before he could, againā¦ and what happened immediately after.
and then there was finn. for as long as scott lived, he would always remember how that boy had been introduced into his life.
it was a DUI. stupid. he hadnāt even realized that he was over the limit - though considering how often he was, those days, then it shouldnāt have been as big a surprise as it was. the cops had hauled his ass in and let him sober up in a jail cell, but all considered, it could have been a lot worse. as an avenger - not anymore, heād said, not since life went to shit, but they hadnāt listened much to the past tense - he got some sort of free pass on account of heroism, and once morning had come, theyād let him out without issue. he hadnāt even had to call hope ( and boy had he spent a chunk of his night fearing thatĀ phone call ). thereād been paperwork, of course, but once it was done they had handed over his belongings and it was as he had been putting back on his old shabby watch ( the illusion of having his life together involved, it seemed, the wrinkled suit heād slept in and scuffed shoes with a too expensive watch that had seen FAR better days ) that he had spotted through the glass of one of the many side offices the boy with messy black hair thatād change his life.
dramatic - sure, but it was TRUE. finn demski was a scrawny little thing, completely out of place in the setting of the station. even sitting in one of the straight backed chairs inside of the office, scott knew that if theyād been stood side by side, the kid would have maybe, JUST maybe reached his elbow. he was a slip of a boy in a way that didnāt seem quite right, and somehow, somehow, scott had found himself questioning the cop at the desk before him. twelve years oldĀ - that was the first shock. he looked so much YOUNGER than that, for some reason. brought in by social services. not saying much to anyone, though. neglected. neglected.Ā
as he got the answers to all the questions he asked, scott had continued looking through the half glazed glass, finding it hard not to notice how the tired eyes with too dark circles and world wearied frown that he could see in his own reflection was mirrored in the image of the boy beyond. he was so young. so much younger than heād thought. like cassie. he wasnāt sure which thought had prompted him to interrupt whatever his cop friend had been saying with the question that now, suddenly, seemed most important: whatās gonna happen to him? the guy was obviously sick of all the queries ( had probably been sick of them for a while, really, but scott hadnāt been looking to know ) and with a noncommittal and dismissive sound from the back of his throat had SHRUGGED.
he didnāt really know what he was doing, then. he didnāt know for a LONG time exactly what his plan had been, or was. way back then, right after cassie, right when his life had lost its meaning, scott had developed a terrible habit of doing things without much thought for the long run. heād thank it, later, for how it brought finn to him. tucking his faded wallet into his back pocket along with his keys ( sans car ), scott had asked whether he could speak to the kid. heād figured, if they cared about being good at their jobs, he wouldnāt be allowed. with another sound from the back of his throat, the cop had given another shrug and waved him through. scott had never looked back.
he knocked before entering - even though the door was wide open, like theyād reallyĀ been keeping an eye on him. heād thought it was the polite thing to do, and that finn had probably already had too much of his privacy invaded. moving to his side, slowly, and sitting in one of the chairs there, scott had let silence fall and settle for a little while before heād cleared his throat, voice still heavy with the incoming hangover when he spoke up.Ā āiām scott.ā he didnāt say hey. considering heād already pulled up a chair, a greeting seemed a little LATE.Ā ādāyou know me?- iām kind of an avenger.ā kind ofĀ were the crucial words. KIND OF, when it suited. that part of his life was buried six feet down, with his daughter - he didnāt say it with hubris, or pride. he said it because if the kid knew him from the news, then itād at least mean heād associated him with something better than these cops. not by much, butā¦ by a little.Ā āfrom what i hear, youāve had a pretty rough night too. iāll tell you mine if you tell me yours.āĀ
upheaval could be a painful thing even for an adult, thereās a strange jarring feeling in your gut, unsurety of where youāre headed in your steps. to a child however somehow the emotions were magnetised. your not losing something, or some part of you. you were losing your entire foundation because you had never really known anything else. no matter what other people might have thought about his parentās ( the list of things he had overheard at the station had to be long enough to fill a book bye now ) they were still the only family finn had. there was no one else around to take care of him, no one now that would want him, thatās what they had told him over and over again.Ā
later, when he was older, he would take a very different view point. the people had brought him into the world werenāt fit to be parents, werenāt meant to have a child. at seventeen he would try not to bare them a thought, wouldnāt let a moment pass wondering where they were or what had happened to them. were they dead in a ditch somewhere? had they drunk themselves into an early grave? had losing him been good for them in the long term? no. he had to at least try and focus on the good. scott lang had walked through that door. that was what was important.
except at twelve years old finn had no idea about that.Ā
he could hear the two men talking outside the door, saw them walk past the office window not that he could bring himself to care. heās sat on one of the rather uncomfortable leather chairs, the type that had been sat on by so many people. it seemed to have absorbed whatever stress was usually pumped into the room, the fabric unyielding. still finn had had worse. had spent nights curled up on the floor a blanket and knew better than to sound ungratefulĀ so he sat, legs pulled to his chest, head resting on his knees. he had been crying earlier, the tear stains are still there on his features, cheeks blotchy, but then everythingĀ was quiet. a person might have been forgiven for thinking he had fallen asleep, were it not for the fact that his eyes were open and though he might not have been looking at it directly he was paying attention to the door of the room like a hawk.Ā
itās strange how the familiar feeling of apprehension is almost a comfort in an unfamiliar place.
he doesnāt say anything as the other enters the room, too used to trying to be ignored. he doesnāt look up either. much preferring to shrink to the point where he would be left alone. still heās been taught to speak when spoken to, even if his gaze remained glued to the floor.
ādonāt you know better than to go around talking to children you donāt know?ā those words were the first heād say to man who would come to mean so much to him later ( later not then ) still that day had been filled with so many new names and faces that he finds himself looking up at the other anyway, trying perhapsĀ āyouāre antman,ā he speaks without missing a beat. finn demski is slight, sullen but also incredibly sharp, besides, he may have been a bit of a superhero fan so what?Ā āyouāre related to stature right?ā itās an observation rather than anything else. finn had always preferred the young avengers over any other team; teen titans and young justice. his father had called him stupid for it but he used to daydream about being out there with them, helping people.Ā
heās pulled from his thoughts as scott takes a seat beside him, though finn notes that heās still respecting his space. respecting him, acting like he was a person, it shouldnāt have been new to him and yet it was. the younger male bites down on his lip for a moment before responding.Ā āthey found out about my parents, iām not sure how. they said that iām not going back home, but i wouldnāt believe them if i were you iāll end up back there eventually,ā he shrugs as he talks, dismissively. it doesnāt even really feel like heās talking to the male, rather instead just thinking aloud.Ā āi donāt even think they know theyāre just going to make it worse,ā itās only then that he turns his attention back to the other.Ā āi thought being an avenger meant you couldnāt get arrested?ā
