the familiar sight greeted him like an old friend. the walls remained upright and its halls warmed up by the light seeping through half-drawn curtains, as if the welsh mansion had been unbothered by their absence. but cruz couldn’t say he didn’t feel nostalgia washing over him then. he had retreated off to somewhere quiet, somewhere where the memory of a half-successful mission didn’t snarl at him for the time being. funny how the quiet halls seemed more friendly now, proving the point that he would miss them - and he had, indeed.

   but the sight of victorian furniture and wooden bannisters was nothing in comparison to the sight of an actual familiar face. he hadn’t prepared what to say come time to meet up again with the others. he wished he could’ve mustered something more eloquent upon seeing agent dynamo again, in the flesh. 

   “had a good flight?” hopefully it was easier to go back to setting up and taking out targets than it was to return to small talk. “how much are you willing to bet the month before we’re back out will go by flying?”

wxrehunter said: “Tongues are weird.” 

“La verdad es que estoy bastante de acuerdo” asintió gracias a su comentario. “Puedes extrañar muchísimo a alguien pero tienes claro que no te haría bien volver a estar cerca, es sentido común, pensar con la cabeza más que con el corazón” se encogió de hombros, era una conversación interesante. “A eso te referías ¿cierto?” 

continued ✖  |  @adopt-a-hybrid

❝ Thank you for agreeing to help. My son is in a difficult position.  ❞

outside of the times when he was needed at briefings, training, and other planning, cruz had gotten out of the way of everyone else. in his eyes, this was justified -- ‘ put my tears in your bottle ’, that was always more honorable than intruding where he wasn’t meant to. but, in reality, it was mostly a selfish response. he didn’t want to face the crew, not when the blast had come from a hand of their own. and especially not when it had been kraken, out of everyone else.

    cosmos’ case made him uneasy. sure, he’d been pulled out of the rubble with a pulse, but his injuries could’ve been avoided and that was the point. cruz didn’t want to ask or pry, to twist the knife senselessly. avoiding cosmos made him feel like a coward, but maybe -- just maybe -- letting the dust settle was best for the crew. 

    “shouldn’t you be in the hospital still?” there was some concern in his voice, and his brow remained forrowed.