#staticveil

it’s   a   brief   moment   of   reprieve,      a   pause   from   the   worst.      poe   wraps   gauze   around   his   hand,      over   and   over   goes   the   fabric   as   it   covers   up   the   worst   of   the   injuries   he   sustained   pulling   the   agent   out   from   a   building   collapsing   in   on   itself.      was   it   reckless      ?      absolutely.      he’d   taken   the   lecture   though,      head   held   high   with   no   regrets   in   his   eyes.      he’d   signed   up   to   be   a   pilot,      yes,      but   everyone   knew   he   was   never   one   to   sit   back   during   the   worst   of   things.

the   walls   of   the   quinjet   are   cold   against   his   back,      and   he   feels   like   he’s   just   about   absorbed   every   bit   of   its   chilly   temperature   until   a   weight   leans   against   his   shoulder,      warmth   exuding.      it’s   kara,      eyes   closed,      breaths   even   as   the   quinjet   cruises   over   the   atlantic   sea.      immediately,      poe   stills,      slowly   leans   back   until   he’s   sure   he’s   a   steady   form   for   her   to   sleep   against.      and   he   can't   help   it,      but   his   eyes   take   inventory   of   the   new   cuts   and   gashes,      the   ones   that   didn't   exist   before   this   mission.      he   can   see   three   on   her   cheek,      tiny   in   their   split.      it's   difficult   to   touch   them,      and   part   of   him   is   terrified   to,      so   he   settles   for   this      :      a   hand   that   reaches   out,      hovers   in   empty   air,      pulls   back.   they’ve   had   their   fights,      their   arguments                     he’s   sure   she’s   tired   to   death   of   him   throwing   himself   into   the   fire   with   no   regards   for   the   injuries   after,      that   he   can’t   seem   to   listen   to   instructions.      but   he   knows   she   trusts   him   too,      as   broken   as   their   trust   was,      scattered   across   seven   different   seas   with   the   pieces   of   history   embedded   into   them.      

and   that’s   what   they   were,      a   piece   of   history   playing   in   the   present,      held   together   by   the   silk-thin   strips   of   trust.

he   murmurs,      only   because   he   thinks   she   can’t   hear   him,      ❝      sorry   for   everything,      kara.      sorry   it’s   not   the   same   as   it   used   to   be.      ❞

it’s  been  a  series  of  long  days.  he’s  slept  less  now  than  the  weeks  &  months  after  their  daughter  was  born.  his  infant  has  been  much  more  behaved  than  he  had  expected,  given  that  she  has  been  away  from  her  mum  with  almost  no  warning.  he’s  sure,  given  the  circumstances  that  made  his  departure,  that  jemma  may  have  been  sending  him  more  worried  messages  if  not  for  her  current  work  with  shield.  trying  to  figure  out  how  this  all  happened.  the  stipulation  with  their  work,  one  of  them  always  being  able  to  be  home  with  their  daughter,  had  allowed  for  him  to  come  see  kara  as  soon  as  he  was  able.  after  jemma  had  come  home  that  first  night,  very  confused  but  so  full  of  hope,  there  had  been  little  discussion  as  to  whether  fitz  &  kara  would  go  to  meet  their  daughter’s  namesake.  

his  hotel  room  is  silent  for  a  while,  them  eating  sushi  on  the  couch  while  some  terrible  sitcom  plays  in  the  background  as  he  lets  her  adjust  to  everything  he’s  said,  all  he’s  updated  her  on.  it  feels  so  familiar.  except  that  everything  is  changed.  his  best  friend  is  holding  his  daughter  in  her  arms.  she’s alive  after  so  long.  he  still  can’t  wrap  his  mind around  it.  it’s  hard  breaking  some  of  this  news. people  dead,  people  betrayed.  the  way  his  hand  shakes  &  his  words  are  still  stuttered  &  broken.  how  shield  had  fallen,  how  ward  had  betrayed  them.  

“  we’re  gonna  be  here.....  for  you.  we’ll  figure  it  all  out  t-together.  “  he  moves  closer,  side  pressing  up  against  hers,  head  falling  to  her  shoulder.  “  you  do.  what  happened......  everything....  “  he  trails  off,  watching  the  television  but  not  focusing  on  it,  “  you  didn’t  deserve  what  happened  to  you.  um....  losing  those  years.  but...  you’re  back  now.  that’s  what  matters.  “    

               While Mike doesn’t full on laugh in response to her little joke it does earn a smile from the agent. In more ways than one he’s living the dream. Most kids begin their lives hoping to be a doctor, firefighter, or a police man. Mike grew up with the desire to become a shield agent. Something he carried with him throughout elementary school up until the day he graduated high school and was accepted into the shield academy. Although he could have easily chosen a safer career choice, he wouldn’t change what he does for the world. Sure, he was never gifted with superhuman abilities, but that doesn’t mean he can’t do all he can to keep evil off the streets.