#rahasyamay

I could get behind a doreen babysitting service

Steve had signed the Accords.

With a few addendums, it seemed. The most relevant to him dealt with his treatment--who was to question him, to evaluate his mental state, and then administer whatever government sanctioned treatment was deemed appropriate. Which was just a nice word for “put to death with extreme prejudice,” but he was told that it all depended on how well he cooperated.

His first appointment had him fully restrained, hands and feet bound to the chair with mag locks fit for the Hulk. His upper arms and legs had been bound too, and a thick iron band wrapped around his stomach. The only thing he had freedom to move was his head, though the headrest keeping him sitting ramrod straight also limited his comfort. At least he wasn’t in a box this time.

“This is inexcusable!”

“On the contrary,” Jack drawled over his shoulder as he stalked down the long, antiseptic corridors toward his final destination, “I think you’ll find all the neat little excuses you could dream of in that file you still haven’t looked at.”

“Th-the Queen will hear about this!”

He rolled his eyes. “Excellent!” False cheer filled his voice. “I’m having tea with her on Sunday. I’ll pass on your regards.”

It wasn’t the first time Captain Jack Harkness had overstepped boundaries at Torchwood One, and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last. He had Toshiko to thank for what he’d seen, really - his arguably most loyal member of his team now, she spent slow periods in between rift activity strolling through Torchwood One’s most secret records and files just to keep her hacking skills sharp. Consider Jack’s curiosity when she’d shown him the plans they had for a new prisoner - someone undeniably human, but oddly almost too human, by their records. Someone who didn’t...fit.

Someone who the rift would suck back in, eventually. But not yet. And, until he vanished, the sick things they had in store to see if this subhuman man could handle them, could be manipulated, could be cloned? They didn’t sit well with Jack.

It wasn’t hard to draw up transfer plans. Torchwood Three sat on top of the Cardiff rift itself, and was the best possible location for the man to be transferred back through in a timely fashion. And the right people owed Jack favors. They always did.

Striding past the armed guards standing outside the cells, most populated with various sickly and dying alien creatures, Jack skimmed his gaze over the cells - then paused at the man whose photo he’d stared at one long, sleepless night, wondering if he’d be worth the trouble of transferring in the first place. He couldn’t quite say what had possessed him to say yes. Only that now, he wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. Jack was well known for being a troublemaker, enough that the guard outside of the cell didn’t hesitate before he unlocked it for his entrance, and then Jack swooped inside, his coat billowing around him, pinning the man with a sparkling gaze and immediate smile.

So much for breaking into a sanctum with no issue. Should have been easy if it wasn’t for magic. Stupid ass idea. But no matter what he was during the night he had always been a thief at heart. And when he heard about a real-life Necronomicon. He wanted it. As an undead himself he wanted it, and as an avid book collector he wanted it. He had a lot of questions as to how he crawled out of his coffin and he wanted them answered.

All the preparation he went through, everything he trained for he didn’t expect to walk right into the owner of the building he thought had already left.

it’s only been a month, but a long month.  after the blip and then mysterio, he’s finally got a moment to take a break.  he’s gotten back to friendly neigbourhood spider-manning, but he’s caught himself off-guard once or twice, distracted, overwhelmed, having to swing off to take a brief second to ground himself before pushing through the rest of the battle.  he never wants to risk other’s lives just because his heart’s thumping a little bit too fast and his hands start to shake.

funny thing is—  he thought the multi-verse was a lie.  mysterio was lying, after all, but  ...  here, he knows another doctor strange.  much more different than the strange he already knows.

“  i’m—  i’m okay.  ”   maybe he’s not all that convincing, given the whole thousand-yard stare.  his legs are idle as they hang off the edge of the building, hands resting on thighs and shoulders somewhat stiff.  this high up, and sometimes, now, it gets hard to breathe.   “  just  ...  a bit distracted.  you don’t have to worry about me.  ”   that probably isn’t reassuring at all, peter.

there’ll be times when my crimes will seem almost unforgivable i give in to sin because you have to make this life livable

                                                     there’ll be days when i stray i may appear to be constantly out of reach                                                      i give in to sin because i like to practice what i preach

     “Thought you might have an idea what it is and if I need to toss it into a black hole.”