You’ll be happy to know that everyone on the team is cool with the whole nonbinary thing.

Mostly.

Alexei is a little confused but has the spirit.

Definitely ‘his/her pronouns are they/them!’ energy.

He is curious but not judgemental, and if anything he thinks it’s pretty cool.

Yelena, Bucky and Ava are normal about it and don’t treat it like a big deal.

At first Bob is clearly nervous about messing up how he refers to you, so you might have to reassure him that it’s fine for him to mess up as long as he tries his best.

On the opposite end of the spectrum is Walker, who, when you first meet him, can’t give less of a shit about offending you.

He doesn’t go out of his way to do it, and he isn’t malicious about it, but I can imagine him thinking ‘oh, great’ and rolling his eyes about it.

He doesn’t strike me as someone who has queer friends. Or friends. Especially after he bashed that guy’s head in.

He misgenders you and the only apology he offers is sarcastic and otherwise insincere because he’s got bigger things to worry about, like his wife leaving him.

Of course, Bucky, Ava and Yelena will all tell him to shut up and stop being a dick.

I adore my silly little idea of Ava and Yelena misgendering him to piss him off and see how he would like it, and it isn’t long until he concedes that it’d just be less of a headache to show you some basic respect and refer to you properly.

And, he will actually come to not be bothered by referring to you properly in the end.

I feel like Ava’s main way of showing support is by being a dick to people who are dicks to you about the gender thing.

Bucky knew you long before the whole Thunderbolts/New Avengers thing.

(TLDR: My headcanon is that, after Civil War, you lived in Wakanda after Steve busted you out of prison, which gave you a chance to get to know Bucky and vice versa)

When he first met you, all he knew about you was that you had stuck your neck out to save him, something for which he was grateful.

And, if you had Steve’s stamp of approval, that was more than enough for him.

The whole ‘nonbinary’ thing was unfamiliar to him.

He’d noticed how you were referred to by Steve and the others.

He took the approach of not questioning it, despite being confused.

Not asking about it became unavoidable when you grew closer.

One night, when you were both sitting around a fire in Wakanda, he very awkwardly asked you about it, and you had a long conversation about it.

After that, he understands well enough and he gets the hang of gendering you correctly in no time.

(I’d like to think you help explain other queer concepts to him).

If someone is a dick to you, he will stand up for you.

Whether or not you can handle things yourself, he takes it upon himself to have your back, like you had his, and like he always had Steve’s.

It’s in his nature to stick up for the little guy, you know?

I’d like to think that, after Bucky and the rest of the population is revived post-blip, you remain close to him.

You wind up being his best friend by default.

And, he does his own research on queer shit because he cares that much about you and being a good friend to you.

He doesn’t admit it or bring it up.

Even though you’re friends, he feels awkward about asking you things directly too much.

Either way, it’s clear he’s done his homework.

I’d like to think, as a congressman, he does what he can to advocate for queer people like you.

I feel like Valentina would try to encourage you to be the LGBTQ+ New Avenger.

Even though, y’know, there’s probably a few fruits in that basket if you get what I’m saying.

Her image of you is one of a corporate Pride poster child- someone who can appeal to a demographic, rather than an actual person.

She will try to parade you around like her token queer associate.

Hopefully, you’ll have none of it.

Bucky and Yelena will advocate for you.

They will tell you not to do anything you don’t want to do or otherwise feel uncomfortable doing.

There’s something so compelling about a superhero who is given the opportunity to be positive, visible, real-life representation for their community whilst also knowing they’ll have to be palatable in a way that likely sacrifices facets of their own identity and experiences.

I haven’t seen much of The Boys but that’s a storyline in that show I think.

If you exclusively use they/them pronouns, or pronouns that aren’t ‘they’, ‘she’ or ‘he’, Val definitely fucks up your pronouns a suspicious amount of times for someone who likes to appear like an ally.

If you use any pronouns, she will default to the pronouns of your AGAB with the occasional ‘they’ thrown in for good measure.

She really is one of those kinds of people, I fear; someone who isn’t queerphobic but is performative in her allyship.

If/when you’re feeling dysphoric, Yelena will be there to listen to you vent.

I love the idea that Yelena will warn everyone that you’re not feeling great, and Alexei will take it upon himself to hype you up.

“Heyyy, if it isn’t the most not-woman, not-man person I know!”

He claps you on the back and looks to Yelena for approval that he just did allyship right.

Again, he’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit.

If you seem down and you’re clearly withdrawing from the rest of the team, I can imagine Bob asking you if you’re okay and stumbling over some clumsy words of comfort.

I feel like Yelena, Bucky and Bob would be more observant than the rest of your teammates when it comes to realising you’re reacting negatively to gender stuff.

They’re the ones who will catch you looking at your reflection for a few seconds too long, or obsessively readjusting your clothes or your hair, or doomscrolling through anti-trans headlines.

If you seem to be way too caught up in it, they’ll ask you if you’re alright, or otherwise try to distract you with something else (even if it’s obvious they know something’s up).

Ava will pick up on a lot of things but she is far less likely to say anything.

It’s not that she doesn’t care; it’s that she doesn’t think it’s her place to say anything because she wouldn’t be your ‘go-to’.

If she notices that you’re doomscrolling, though, I’d like to think she snatches your phone off you without a word.

You have to be so visibly bad for John or Alexei to notice.

And, even then, they might not realise it’s a gender thing.

But, if Alexei knows what’s wrong, he’ll try his best to comfort you.

He’s paternal like that.

John won’t bother saying anything.

His version of being nice is the bare minimum of not making you feel any worse.

Quickfire round:

If you’re transmasc, Alexei will offer to take you to do some stereotypically masculine activities.

He may also let you win an arm wrestling contest to make you feel better.

(If you couldn’t tell, I love the idea of Alexei being paternal to you).

If you ever want/need to go shopping for gender-affirming clothes, Yelena will be happy to go with you because clothes and other forms of self-expression mean a lot to her.

If you bind, Yelena and Bucky are really good at picking up if you’re doing it unsafely.

They will pick up on if you seem dehydrated or if your body language shows some discomfort, especially if you’re someone who isn’t great at taking care of themself.

The first person in your family that you come out to is Jamie.

He can’t talk, or comprehend your words.

So, you get the benefits of finally admitting this thing that’s been weighing on you without it having any true consequence.

You’re babysitting him one day, when everyone else is out, and you say to him:

“Hey, Jamie. I know you have no idea what I’m saying but if I don’t say it soon I’m going to explode.”

He just looks at you blankly.

“I’m nonbinary. So, I’m not a boy like you, and I’m not a girl like mom.”

All you’re met with is another blank stare.

“Yeah, I must be going pretty insane if I’m trying to explain this in a way you’ll understand.”

The next logical choice is Francis.

After all, he’s far away and you don’t see him often, so you don’t have to live with him if he ends up rejecting you.

Not that you expect that from him, as your cool brother who respects pretty much everything that goes against tradition.

You call him one day, when you miraculously get the house to yourself.

“Francis, I need to tell you something.”

“You’re not calling me from jail, are you?”

“No.”

“Then, what is it?”

“I… I’m nonbinary.”

“The thing where you’re not really a boy or a girl?”

“Yeah, that.”

“How’d mom and dad take that one?”

“That’s the thing. I haven’t told them yet. Or Reese, Malcolm or Dewey.”

“So, I’m the first in the family to know?”

“After Jamie, if he counts.”

“Man, I can’t wait to shove that one in mom’s face.”

“Can you keep this to yourself? Until I’ve told them. I mean, you can tell Piama if you want.”

“Of course. I’ve kept worse secrets than this. Not that this is bad.”

“Thanks, Francis.”

“No problem. And, congrats. I think that’s what I’m supposed to say.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess. So… you’re okay with it?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Do you think everyone else will be okay with it?”

“If they’re not, they’ll probably come around. But, if they don’t, give me a call, alright?”

He paused, before speaking again.

“Do you like grandma?”

“Ida? Not really. Why?”

“Well, I think that she’d probably have a heart attack if you told her. So… do with that information what you will.”

You tell your family within the next month.

You choose to tell them when you’re having dinner one night.

If a fight breaks out, you figure it won’t be too different to your normal dinners.

Hal looks ever so slightly terrified.

Lois, for once, is at a loss for words, which scares you more than her yelling.

Reese is confused.

Malcolm and Dewey look surprised, albeit not overly shocked.

“What does that mean?” Reese questioned.

“It means…” Malcolm pauses as he looks at you, not sure how to refer to you yet. “You’re not a girl or a boy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“But, you’re a-”

You cut Reese off.

“That’s not how I feel. And… I hope that you can all accept that, or try to accept that.”

Your eyes dart around everyone at the table, then you bite your lip and avert your gaze.

“So… do you think you guys can accept that?”

“Sweetheart-” Hal begins hesitantly, but Lois interrupts him.

“How long have you felt this way?”

Her voice is the most uncertain you’ve ever heard it be.

You can’t bring yourself to look up at her.

“Uh, a while.”

“And, you’re sure about it?”

“Do I have to be?”

“No.”

“Well, I am. Mostly.”

“Okay. Then, tell us what to do and we’ll do it.”

Surprised, you nervously tell your family what pronouns to use, and anything else they need to know.

It feels like such a relief.

Over the next few days, you overhear Reese asking Malcolm questions, but they’re both keeping their voices down so that you can’t make out what they’re saying (but you can infer the questions are about you).

Malcolm and Dewey adjust to the change the quickest.

Lois adjusts pretty quickly, too, no doubt because she’s that stubborn and determined not to slip up.

(Part of you wonders if she’s worried that getting it wrong or do anything to make you feel like you’re not accepted by her or the rest of the family will push you away like Francis)

Reese is trying his best, but he gets it wrong half the time, so Malcolm will make sure to correct him.

You notice that, at first, Hal avoids using pronouns for you as much as possible (and your name, if you asked for them to use a new one), and he has that look where he looks like he’s about to keel over and die, or like he’s having some kind of allergic reaction.

But, as time goes on, and with Lois and Malcolm’s insistence, he will try, and he will realise that all that matters is showing you that he loves you no matter what.

You find that Lois will fight for you in whatever way she can.

She overhears some judgemental mothers in the neighbourhood talking crap about you?

She will give them a piece of her mind.

If you’re still at school, and you want your teachers to use your pronouns (and your new name if you have one), then she will march down to the school and speak to the principal.

Your brothers will stand up for you, too.

Francis has told you to call him if anyone gives you a hard time.

If anyone’s a jerk to you, Reese will either punch them in the face or threaten them.

Malcolm will argue with anyone who gives you a hard time.

Dewey will secretly enact calculated revenge against anyone who upsets you, but will deny it when asked.

When Ida finds out about you, she will show up unannounced, storm into the house and start berating you and Lois.

Malcolm calls Francis, and it isn’t long before he turns up, too.

(Everyone knows that Francis will never turn down the opportunity to argue with someone, especially Lois or Ida)

It brings Francis and Lois together in a rare moment of solidarity, and they will spend hours upon hours in a screaming match with her.

(Somewhere along the line, you get the impression that they’ve all forgotten that the argument started with you at the centre)

Eventually, they’ll manage to get Ida to leave.

You’ll get up in the middle of the night to grab a drink and a snack, and you’ll find Lois sitting at the kitchen table, her head in her hands.

“Hey, Mom? I really appreciate you sticking up for me, but I always knew this wasn’t going to be easy. I can take people being assholes to me. You don’t have to keep standing up for me.”

She looks up at you, her exhaustion evident, but she’s still able to keep herself together, somehow.

Climbing up the hollowed-out shaft proved a strenuous task even for a super soldier and a trained assassin, nevermind the mutant who would normally fly and not use their legs in this kind of situation. But, alas, Val must have thought ahead and had made sure to build this vault out of something engineered to interfere with your mutation. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, and you weren’t in the mood to talk. Yelena, on the other hand, was.

“Who sent you here, Barton?” Yelena asked between grunts.

“Are we really gonna do this now?” you hissed. “You trust me, right?”

“You knew to come here and you weren’t sent by Valentina. You know how totally suspicious that looks, right?”

You thought for a moment, then let out a huff of defeat.

“I got some intel about this place and I was trying to do someone a favour by checking it out,” you explained. “Clearly this wasn’t a suitable mission for someone who has never done solo spy crap before.”

“Intel from who? A favour for who?”

You groaned.

“What’s with all the questions? What’s next – do you wanna know my mother’s maiden name? How about I tell you my pronouns while we’re at it?”

“He/him,” Bob said quietly.

You looked over your shoulder at him, your demeanour softening a touch.

“Cool. I’m nonbinary.”

Walker rolled his eyes with an exaggerated sigh.

“Oh, great.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“It means we’re trying to escape a deathtrap and now we have to deal with some pronoun bullshit just because you saved the world.”

“Do you know how many pronouns you used in that sentence?” Ava retorted. “And, y’know, you should probably respect the pronouns of people who have never saved the world-”

“I’m never going to see any of you again after this. Who fucking cares about your gender or pronouns?”

“How would you like it if someone called you a woman?” Yelena said.

“I don’t think she’d like it very much,” Ava added.

“I don’t think she would.”

“Just because she was Captain America for ten minutes she expects us to call her a man.”

“Okay, fine!” Walker conceded. “I’ll call… them? Is it them?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll call you them, then, alright? Is everyone happy? Can we focus on getting out of here now?”

“I do have a name. But, thanks, I guess,” you said. “And, actually, I helped save the world twice.”

– – –

Of all the sensations in the world, the last one you wanted to experience was the feeling of John Walker’s knee pressed against yours. Given what he’d said to you earlier, it was about as pleasant as having gum stuck in your hair. At first, you’d both made a conscious effort to avoid making contact, but being crammed in the back seat of Alexei’s limo limited that possibility. After a while, tucking his leg in had become uncomfortable for him and crossing your legs for so long caused the muscles in your thighs to ache more than they already did after climbing up that damn shaft. So, you both decided to tolerate the feeling.

You distracted yourself by tuning in and out of the familial bickering of Alexei and Yelena. It wasn’t like you were consciously paying attention to everything they were saying, though. Instead, you caught only bits and pieces of it. You watched your barren surroundings roll past you in the window. It wasn’t long before you spotted yourself reflected faintly in the grimy glass. Inevitable. You blinked and stared. Your reflection blinked and stared back. And, it felt like everything else melted away as you studied your own face. You stared for so long you weren’t sure it was you anymore. You crossed your arms over your chest – a gesture that came as naturally to you as breathing – and you fidgeted in your seat.

It seemed Walker was getting bored of the talking, so, without meaning to, his gaze landed on you, long after you had begun your self-inspection. You looked like you were a million miles away, or in some catatonic state. But, you were conscious enough to look uncomfortable and unsettled. He knitted his brows and cocked his head to the side ever so slightly as he watched you squirm. But, before he could think about it for any longer-

“I know you!” Alexei exclaimed with a snap of his fingers. You jumped, startled. You glanced up at him and realised ‘you’ was you. “One of Captain America’s friends. The one who goes from here to there to here again and shoots up in the air without the wings.”

He made animated gestures with his hands, and he had turned in his seat to look at you. Yelena grabbed the wheel, her jaw clenched.

“Alexei! Wheel!”

You forced a smile, the kind of smile you force when you have to make small talk with your friends’ parents.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Your father, he shoots arrows, yes?”

“He certainly does.”

“And, you were banished from this country for many, many years.”

“I don’t think they want to talk about that, Alexei.”

“Of course they… They? There is only one of that one.” He suddenly seemed unsure. He looked to Yelena for reassurance. “Right?”

Walker smirked, his vindication clear from his expression and the way he folded his arms. Finally, it seemed he might have someone on his side. Ava spotted his smugness, tutted and rolled her eyes. She resisted the urge to kick him in the shin. Yelena glanced at you and you shrugged.

“Barton is nonbinary. Not a man or a woman.”

“Ah, I see. Like snails?”

Yelena narrowed her eyes.

“What?”

“Snails. Not a man or woman either. Hermadaphodites.”

“He almost has it,” you said. “It’s not a biological thing. But, yeah.”

“Not a man or woman. I think it’s very cool.”

You cut a glance at Walker, who all of a sudden looked quite disappointed, and it was your turn to smirk.

“You do?”

“Of course! But, I do have a question, if you do not mind,” Alexei said. “You see, I have too much masculinity surging through my veins to know what it is like to be not a man. I do not know what it is like being a woman either, but I have known plenty women in my time, if you catch my drift.” He chuckled to himself and a broad grin spread across his face. Everyone else in the car cringed, especially Yelena. “Never have I known anyone who is neither a man or woman.”

“Sure,” you agree hesitantly. “Go ahead.”

“If you are ‘they’, does that give you the strength of more than one man?”

Yelena sank in her seat and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Alexei…”

– – –

You were alone tonight, overwhelmingly so. It was hard to not feel alone when observing it all from so close yet ultimately afar – the roads and pavements and many of the surrounding buildings over which the Watchtower… well, towered. The quiet hum defied the expectation of silence that came with this time of night. And, it was just dark enough that you could make out your reflection in the window pane. Looking at it wasn’t so much down to choice as it was your inability to resist that familiar impulse. Maybe you’d look and it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought it’d be. Still, it wasn’t wise to risk it, not when you were feeling like this. So, for God knows how long, you stood in front of the window, as though you were in a trance. You couldn’t quite remember when you’d stopped gazing at the streets below and when you’d begun to focus on your reflection. Your eyes roamed over the person staring back at you, surveying their face, the way their t-shirt hung on their frame, the way they were standing. With everything you picked up on, you tried readjusting whatever it was to mixed results. It was a silent process, which would make it appear all the more strange to anyone who stumbled upon you doing it.

“Are you… good?”

The voice forced you back into reality. Back into your body. Startled, you flinched. Reflected behind you was Walker. He was far enough away that you had to forgive yourself for not noticing him sooner. You turned to find him standing on the other side of the room. Of everyone who lived here, it had to be him. Heat rose to your cheeks. Just by looking at him, you could tell this situation was out of his comfort zone. It was out of yours, too. But, refreshingly, it didn’t seem like he was going to be too much of a dick about it.

You nodded in (delayed) response to his question.

“Yeah.”

Your gaze flickered to his face.

“What are you doing up?” you asked.

“I was getting some water…” he said, holding up his glass. “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t notice I was here for, like, two whole minutes.”

“Sure. It just happens sometimes.”

You didn’t really mean to add that last sentence. Nevertheless, it came out and Walker had heard it loud and clear. His brows furrowed.

“‘What’ just happens? You get possessed?”

“No.”

“Then, what?”

The thing where I sorta stare at my reflection for way too long and it sorta starts to feel like I’m looking at myself from outside my own body and then the longer I look the less it feels like I’m looking at me because it feels wrong. Very very wrong.

“I’m fine.”

He wouldn’t get it, anyway. He wouldn’t care.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“That’s besides the point.”

“Nice try. What’s going on?”

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. You don’t need to…”

“We’re a team. We’re friends… I guess.”

He looked at you expectantly, with uncharacteristic patience.

“Dysphoria.”

Nodding, he bit down on his bottom lip. It was then that he decided to move closer to you, taking slow, almost cautious steps.

“Okay. It’s out of my wheelhouse but… go on.”

You knitted your brows.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” When all you did was look at him blankly, he continued. “If you’re alone and all you do is keep looking and thinking… it’ll mess with your head. Yelena’s right with all of that ‘talk about it’ stuff. So, y’know, you can talk to me. Or, whatever.”

It was a rare, genuine moment with Walker, and you allowed yourself to soften at it.

“Okay, well…”

– – –

None of you wanted to go to the meeting with Valentina. But, she insisted upon it. So, you were gathered around a conference table. To your surprise (and chagrin), her attention was directed at you as she went to speak.

“Barton,” Valentina said, her voice taking on a placating tone. “Your years of service to this nation are greatly appreciated.” 

You leaned back in your seat and stuffed your hands in your pockets.

“What’s the ‘but’?”

“Some people… they don’t like having someone like you be so… visible.”

She was trying to choose her words carefully and it was still indelicate. You didn’t expect anything else from her.

“What do you mean, ‘someone like them’?” Bucky demanded without missing a beat.

“Oh, come on. You know what I mean. Barton’s a mutant – from a different universe! They’re an ex-criminal. And, they’re nonbinary. Not everyone’s come around on that stuff yet.”

Yelena cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at Valentina.

“Surely that’s not Barton’s problem?” Yelena cut in.

“I’m not here to play the blame game, okay?” Valentina said with a huff. “I just think, if we want to keep a good thing going, we need to think about what we can do to retain as much public approval as possible.”

“So, what’s happening, then? Am I being benched?”

“No, no, of course not. Can you imagine the backlash?”

When Bucky and Yelena sent Valentina a silent death glare, she hastily added, “And, of course, you’re a valuable member of the team.”

“‘Valuable?’ Not ‘valued?’”

“I think it’s for the good of the whole team if you don’t make the whole nonbinary thing such a big deal. Maybe the public will be more receptive to it if you tone it down.”

“‘Tone it down,’” Yelena scoffed. “What exactly do you expect them to do? It’s who they are.”

“Fine. Then, we’ll have to try to redirect focus. I can persuade some friends in the press to stop doing articles on Barton’s gender stuff. Or, since we’re spitballing, maybe I could arrange an interview with questions focused more on Barton's association with the Avengers and Steve Rogers. People aren’t into nepo babies right now so maybe we’ll have to steer clear of mentioning Hawkeye too much-”

Clearly, no one was on Val’s side for this one.

“I don’t have a problem with you being nonbinary!” she insisted. “What you wanna do with your life is no concern of mine. But, you have to understand that plenty of people think it’s bad enough that you’re some scary mutant and you were on the run from the law for years, and then, to top it off, you have to be something else… weird.”

This was where Bucky and Yelena would have interjected. But, someone else beat them to it – the person everyone in the room least expected to speak up.

“Do you want to say that again?”

Valentina’s head snapped to look at Walker. Her lips were parted but, for a few moments, she couldn’t get any words out.

“E-excuse me?” she finally spurted, ironically indignant.

"They've saved people's lives and that's all that matters? Everyone in this room's done actually bad shit, but the big problem is that they're fucking nonbinary? It’s bullshit!”

The rest of the team watched on with evident shock. Bucky knitted his brows, while Yelena, Bob and Ava’s were raised. Alexei had a massive grin on his face. And, your eyes were wider than they had ever been.

Meanwhile, Val couldn’t respond this time.

Walker looked at you.

“You don't have to take that from her. You're not gonna take that from her. She doesn't tell you who you are or who you have to be. Do you hear me?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded but grateful.

“What the hell…” Ava muttered, glancing between the pair of you like she was watching a tennis match.

“Are you gonna sit there and let a scumbag like her call you a freak?” Walker went on.

“Walker-” Bucky tried.

“He's right,” you said.

“There's a first,” Ava murmured.

You folded your arms over your chest.

“I have saved this planet so many times,” you said. “But, that's besides the point. I’d still deserve a baseline level of respect even if I hadn’t. I couldn’t care less what you think of me, but you don’t get to belittle me. You don’t get to tell me there’s something wrong with me.”

Valentina attempted to maintain her composure. She raised her hands defensively.

“That’s what other people think,” she replied, keeping her voice calm and level. “I never said I agree.”

“If you didn’t agree with it, you wouldn’t demand that I bend to the whim of people who don’t like me just for your stupid brand that I don’t give a shit about, frankly. Unless, you really are completely spineless.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned.

“Don’t you want to be seen as more than just the nonbinary mutant? More than the token gay?”

You let out a long sigh.

“I didn’t wanna pull this card, Val, but I got a call from Sam. As in, Sam Wilson. You know, Captain America.”

Her eyes widened, and finally she looked a little unsettled. She tried to recover and forced a smile.

“You did? How is he?” she asked – facetious, of course.

“He’s fine. And, he gave me a very interesting proposition,” you said. “He asked me if I wanted to ditch this gig and join him instead. He phrased it a tad more delicately than that.”

“But, you turned him down.”

“I did,” you replied with a nod. “But, Sam’s never had a problem with the ‘nonbinary mutant’ thing I have going on. He wouldn’t tell me to stop being who I am. So, this whole meeting has really made me reconsider.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Maybe. Or, maybe I’m giving you a choice. Or, a warning,” you said. “You don’t tell me what to do. You don’t tell me what to be. You don’t tell me what you think because I don’t care to hear it. Otherwise, I’m gone. I’ll join someone who doesn’t think being a nonbinary mutant’s a bad thing. I’ve fought too long and too hard for this world to not live in it as who I am.”

Val couldn’t speak yet again.

A smirk graced Walker’s lips and he clapped a few times, evidently proud of you. You couldn’t help but think back to the day you first met him, and how far he’d come since then. Sure, you wished he’d been like this from the start, but you’re happy that he’s here now.

“Good job, Barton,” he said.

It had been something innocuous that had set this whole thing off. Lister had saved you from the latest thing that meant you harm- it felt like a weekly occurrence at this point. Had he not intervened, you would have died, or at least gotten a nasty wound. Normally, you would have been suitably grateful that your friend hadn’t let you die, but something about this time bugged you. It really bugged you. It wriggled under your skin like a familiar parasite, feasting at your innards and your patience. Lister had saved you, like he had all those other times, and yet you could hardly look at him without wanting to tear off your own skin, or his skin for that matter. It was a strange kind of resentment. You were consumed by this restless annoyance, but you felt guilty enough about it to hole yourself up in your room to avoid saying something you would regret, as well as to be perceived as minimally as possible. You hid your body beneath a rotation of objects: a blanket you wrapped tightly around you (just not tight enough to fit the shape of your body), a cushion you hugged to your chest, and the most oversized top you owned.

No one thought much of it when you decided not to join them for a well-earned dinner and drinks. After all, you were tired- that’s what you told them, anyway. They didn’t have to know that you stayed up about as long as them, drinking alone in your room. But, they took notice when there was no sign of you the next day.

The first of them to check in with you was Kryten, who had gone through the trouble of making you lunch. He asked you if you were okay, an understandable question, and you assured him you were fine. He picked up that something wasn’t right, so he asked if you were sick. You decided to lie and told him that you were on your period. You hoped it would be enough of an excuse to explain away your absence without causing any alarm, and that your crewmates, all men or man-adjacent (besides Holly), would be too overwhelmed by the concept of a period to even think of bothering you.

Unfortunately, Lister wasn’t bothered by your fictitious period like you had hoped. Later that day, he turned up at your door. He invited you to do something- you weren’t paying attention so you had no idea what exactly it was, but you guessed it probably involved alcohol, curry and/or poker, seeing as that’s all you guys seemed to do. You declined, a little bluntly, using the excuse that you weren’t feeling up to it, whatever it was. ‘You know how periods can be,’ you had said. He wasn’t convinced that everything was fine- as fine as it could be while you were on your period- but it had only been one day. He could give you the benefit of the doubt and believe that you really were this wiped out. So, he left you to it. You’d be back to normal soon enough, you assured him. Anything to get him to go away. And, really, you had thought you’d be fine within the next couple of days.

But, you didn’t leave your room the next day, either. Kryten delivered you some food. And, Lister tried to coax you out again with some activity or another. You declined. So, he asked you if you were alright. You told him you were fine. But, he really didn’t believe it this time. He asked again. No luck. So, he told you to come talk to him when you were ready. That made you feel worse.

Another day went by and you hadn’t taken him up on his offer. If he wasn’t worried before, he certainly was now.

Nothing could have prepared you for Rimmer throwing his hat in the ring. Your best guess was that he had put himself forward. You could imagine Lister scoffing at the idea and Rimmer going ahead with it anyway. Thinking about Lister further soured your already displeased expression, which also came with an inevitable wave of guilt. Your lack of enthusiasm did nothing to deter Rimmer, who invited himself in without hesitation. You watched him from your bed.

“I thought it might be worth checking in. You haven’t left this room in days and it’s safe to say we’re all growing a bit concerned.”

You might have been touched and more receptive to his presence if he wasn’t speaking with the tone of a teacher.

“All of you? Even Cat?”

“Well, no. Perhaps not Cat. In fact, the next time you see him, you might very well have to re-introduce yourself.”

You rolled your eyes as he paced around the room, making a failed attempt at pretending as though he wasn’t closely examining it for any sign of whatever he was looking for.

“I think you’d better leave, Arnie. I know about the Lemming Sunday incident and with how I’m feeling right now I’m worried there’ll be a repeat of it if you keep talking to me.”

He was clearly caught off-guard by the comment. He thought for a moment, then let out a deep exhale.

“I suppose I can call a meeting and arrange a rota for suicide watch.”

Given he was discussing the topic of suicide watch, his tone was perhaps inappropriately casual.

You shot him a glare, already sick of him. Normally, you were the first to defend him, but this conversation was giving you a glimpse into how Lister, Cat and Kryten must have seen him.

“I was joking. Mostly. But, I wasn’t joking about wanting you to go away.”

“You know, whatever’s bothering you-”

“Nothing’s bothering me. I told Kryten, I’m on my period. So, I don’t want to be disturbed-”

He raised his finger to interject.

“Ah, about that.”

You squoze your eyes shut and rolled your head back. You were sure whatever he was about to say was going to annoy you. The last thing you needed was Rimmer’s input on the subject of menstruation.

“Holly says you’re not due a visit from Auntie Flo for another two weeks and three days. So, I’m afraid that’s the end of that excuse.”

You straightened up, eyes wide as you stared at him in bewilderment. 

“Holly tracks my cycle?”

“I’m sure she’ll start giving you a few day’s warning if you ask her to.”

“That’s not-”

“Now, I suggest you start talking.”

“For God’s sake, Rimmer, I’m depressed, not a prisoner of war.”

“Aha! So, you admit it. You’re depressed.”

He seemed far too gleeful about that revelation. You looked at him blankly.

“I thought you’d figured that out already.”

“It’s one thing to reach a conclusion based on pure intuition, but it’s another kettle of fish wrenching out a confession- so masterfully, might I say.”

“Okay, well, you’ve got your ‘confession’. Can you smeg off now?”

“I’m afraid not. This is what we call a ‘safeguarding issue’.”

“If you weren’t a hologram, I’d give you a ‘safeguarding issue’.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to get hostile,” Rimmer tried. He thought for a moment; you assumed he was trying to recall some advice he had read in a book about negotiation or interrogation. “Alright, would you rather speak to Lister about whatever this is?”

The glare you directed at him sent a chill down his spine, or the hologram equivalent of that sensation.

“No.”

Realisation settled on his features, and what followed was a wave of smugness. Amidst his pride, he smirked and folded his arms. He paced victoriously.

“Ah. So, you’ve fallen out with old Listy, eh? What is it, then? A playground squabble? A lover’s tiff?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He wavered.

“Hang on a minute. Are the pair of you-”

“We’re just mates, Rimmer. I don’t fancy Lister and Lister doesn’t fancy me. Believe it or not, I can be friends with a bloke. Men and women can be friends. And, I’m not even a woman, so that doesn’t even apply here anyway.”

Rimmer, thankfully, was clueless as to what to say. Before he could attempt to string together a sentence that would most likely compel you lob a chair through him, you continued, softening your tone a tad.

“Look, Arnie, I’ll be fine in a few days. Give me some time and it’ll be like this never happened.”

“And, until then?”

“I don’t know. I’ll manage. I always do.”

Rimmer’s gaze landed on your wastebasket, which could best be described as a growing mountain of empty cans. His eyes widened in alarm. He hadn’t been observant enough to notice them before.

“Christ, are those from the past three days?”

You shrugged.

“That’s how I’ll manage.”

He sighed.

“Trust me, I can understand loathing Lister with the burning passion of a billion suns-”

“I don’t-”

“But, I’ve never withdrawn like a maladjusted hermit and stumbled down the slippery slope of alcoholism because of it.”

He seemed genuinely concerned, so much so that you couldn’t bear to keep looking at him. You were hyper-aware of the fact that he was looking at you- watching you with a softness you scarcely saw from him. It was kind of nice, but also mortifying. As tender as it was, you weren’t exactly in a mindset where you wanted to be perceived. You shifted uncomfortably and shook your head.

“You wouldn’t get it, Arn.”

“Go on. Try me.”

Maybe Rimmer would understand. He knew a thing or two about self-hatred and insecurity, after all. You took a deep breath before speaking.

“Lister always saves me from being killed or hurt or anything.”

Rimmer’s brows knitted in confusion.

“The bastard?”

You paused and shut your eyes for a moment.

“I know we’re mates and that’s why he bothers to not let me die, and I appreciate it. I really do. But, I dunno. Sometimes it feels like him and all the rest of you lot see me as a girl because I’m not a full-on bloke. And, I guess, whenever he saves me from things it’s like I’m just some damsel in distress to you guys- like no matter what, I’ll always be at least woman-adjacent.”

Rimmer exhaled from his nose.

“Trust me, if Lister saw you as a woman, he’d be on you like the foul odour on his… everything,” Rimmer insisted. “What does it matter what he thinks of you, anyway?”

“He’s my mate. And, the thought of him- or anyone- seeing me as a woman makes me feel a bit sick because that’s really not who I am.” You paused. “Do you see me as a woman, Arnie?”

“I thought this was about Lister.”

“So, is that a yes?”

“No. Were it a yes, I would have said, well, yes.”

“But, you didn’t say no. Not right away. You dodged the question. So now it feels like you do see me as a woman.”

There was an undertone of panic in your voice.

“I don’t see you as a woman.”

“Then, why didn’t you just say that straight away?”

“Because, no one ever cares to hear my opinion on anything. I was taken by surprise.”

You glanced at him, half-pitying, half-apologetic.

“Oh.”

There was a brief moment of awkward silence.

“Well, why does it matter if Lister sees you as a woman or if I see you as a woman?”

“When you phrase it like that, it seems like you do see me as a woman.”

He tipped his head back in frustration.

“Neither of us see you as a woman! But, I have to tell you, this hysteria really isn’t helping your case.”

Your growing fondness for Rimmer came crashing down. Of course it was too good to be true. And, oh, he had been doing so well.

“Misogyny. Nice. Can you actually smeg off now, you total-”

“It’ll take more than accusations about my character and childish insults to get rid of me.”

You could have throttled him. Well, technically speaking, you couldn’t.

“Are you really that stubborn that you won’t leave me alone?”

“This isn’t about me. You’re having some sort of crisis and I don’t think hiding in your room like a recluse and drinking enough to kill a horse is doing you any good.”

He had you there.

“Right, well, what do you want me to do, Arnie? Because, that’s all I feel like doing right now. I don’t want to be looked at. Not when people look at me and see me as something I’m not. And, not when he’s there to remind me of what a failure I am as… not-a-woman.”

Rimmer cleared his throat.

“Well, then, perhaps I’d better leave. I wouldn’t want my masculinity to make you feel inadequate.”

Well, you certainly hadn’t expected that. Your eyes widened with shock. You stifled a laugh. The corners of your lips stretched into a smile, one you hid behind your fist. You chewed on your finger and turned your head away from him. He sent you a look of confusion and mild indignation.

“What’s so amusing?”

You shook your head. 

“Nothing. Nothing.”

Rimmer placed his hands on his hips. Your body shook with laughter that you tried to keep as quiet as possible. You felt so mean but you couldn’t help it.

“You don’t think I’m masculine?”

You managed to compose yourself a bit to answer him, taking in several deep breaths.

“It’s not that! I’m so sorry, Arnie. You’re a perfectly acceptable man.”

“Then, why are you laughing?”

“It took me by surprise.”

Rimmer shook his head.

“I see how it is. Tell me, then, what is it that makes David Lister a veritable paragon of machismo?”

You chewed your nail, thinking for a moment. You paused. You sighed.

“I’m sorry for laughing at you, Arn. Will you please let me explain?”

After a moment of hesitation, he let out a huff.

“Very well. Go on.”

“Dave’s a proper laddy lad, you know? He’s confident in his own bloke-ish-ness. He’s, like, the quintessential bloke. He drinks beer, he tends to be handy to have around, he’ll shamelessly wear curry-stained clothes that haven’t been washed in a year,” you explained. “I mean, you’re far from laddy- and, no offence, you can be a bit pathetic sometimes- but you’re still a man. Cat’s a bit metrosexual but he’s taken seriously as a man. And, Kryten: he’s not even technically a man but that’s how we treat him and it’s probably right for him. You’re all men and you all do it so differently but it doesn’t change how people see that part of you.”

You folded your arms tightly over your chest.

“But, then there’s me. I’m not a woman. I’m not a man. But, it feels like because I’m not a man and all of you are, other than Holly, I’m a woman by default because I’m ‘closer to being a woman’ than the rest of you or something because that’s how I was born. So, I get it in my head that everyone sees me as a woman, because I’m driving myself mad with the ‘woman things’ I have. And, it really gets to me how you can all just be men so differently and effortlessly and I can’t have that for myself.”

You rolled your head back, squeezing your eyes shut.

“It’s no one’s fault how I was born or how I am- not even mine. But, I know it’s all down to me, to deal with how I’m feeling. So sorry for being a bitter, miserable prick. That’s why I was trying to avoid all of you until it stopped.”

You had been going on for so long about your abject misery that you had forgotten you were talking to Arnold Judas Rimmer, who Lister had once described as having all the gentleness of a prostate exam from Freddy Krueger. But, when you finally dared to look at him again, you were met with that same soft expression from earlier. Your shoulders sank, a sense of relief washing over you.

“You know, if you feel you must try to emulate Lister, his drinking habits certainly aren’t what I would attempt to mimic,” he finally said. “It makes him an idiot, not any more of a man.”

You laughed weakly. “I suppose you’re right.”

“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a perfectly acceptable… not-a-woman.”

“Thanks, Arn.”

He carried on looking at you, thoughtful. You stole another glance at him. When your eyes met, your heart skipped a beat and warmth flooded your stomach.

“You’re not actually going to do anything stupid, are you?”

“Probably not.”

He appeared dissatisfied by your answer.

“No. I’m not actually going to do anything stupid, Arn.”

“Good.”

You smirked.

“‘Good’ because me killing myself would somehow inconvenience you or ‘good’ because you care about me?”

He hesitated.

“A bit of both.”

You grinned.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. I’ll take that.”

“So, are you feeling better, then?”

“A bit. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. And, I’d say you’ve earned the right to tell them they were wrong about you being able to help me.”

He knitted his brows.

“How did you know about that?”

“Intuition.”

– – –

“Hang on a minute, are you seriously saying that Rimmer made you feel better?”

Lister leaned back in his chair, eyeing you incredulously and with clear unease. 

You nodded. 

“Yeah. He did.”

After Rimmer had helped you feel better, you didn’t mind that he was eager to parade you in front of the crew to tell them that he’d done a good job despite their misgivings.

“Arnold Rimmer?”

“Yep.”

“Arnold Judas Rimmer?”

“Yes.” 

Lister got up and pointed directly at an indignant Rimmer.

“That git?”

“He might be a git-”

Rimmer folded his arms.

“Excuse me!”

“But I appreciated his help anyway.”

Lister huffed and sat back down.

“Well, I suppose all that matters is that you’re feeling better.”

Still, he seemed unsettled, while Rimmer was able to return to being smug. You thought it was kind of sweet, but it was obvious that Lister didn’t share that sentiment, judging by the way he was massaging his temple.

“And, to think,” Rimmer said with a self-satisfied smile. “You were so vehemently against me offering my counselling services.”

Cat casually strolled into the room, carefree as usual. When he passed you, he did a double-take, then he looked between Rimmer and Lister with confusion.

You could tell that whatever Phoebe wanted, or needed, to say wouldn’t leave her lips easily. She looked at you uncertainly, her gaze flickering between your eyes and the floor.

“You’re nonbinary,” she began hesitantly.

Nodding, you smiled at her to ease her visible anxiety.

“Correct. Go on.”

She rubbed her arms in an effort to ease her nerves. Then, she managed to look you dead in the eye.

“Do you think I could be nonbinary, too?”

You chuckled.

“That’s not for me to decide, Pheebs,” you said, voice warm. “Do you think you could be nonbinary?”

She shrugged.

“Maybe. I don’t know,” she replied. Though, to you, it came out like she had at least an inkling but lacked the confidence to admit it. “How… how did you know?”

“I thought about how I felt. What made me uncomfortable, what made me comfortable, how did I see myself, how did I want other people to see me,” you explained. “So, how do you feel?”

Phoebe glanced away as she contemplated your question. She looked self-conscious, in the kind of way that anyone exposing their most vulnerable thoughts and feelings naturally would.

“Well, I’ve never really cared about what people saw me as,” she said. “Being a girl, or being seen as one, doesn’t matter much to me. It’s never really bothered me that that’s how people see me, either. I don’t mind being called ‘she’, or my mom’s ‘daughter’, or Trevor’s ‘sister’. But, when I think about it, I don’t see myself as a girl, or anything, really. I guess it’d be nice if other people saw me that way, too. But, I don’t see the point in telling anyone if it doesn’t make me uncomfortable when people see me as a girl.”

She stared at you, as if waiting for an answer.

“I still can’t tell you what you are,” you insisted, with a gentle laugh. “You need to trust yourself to figure this out. And, it’s okay if you don’t figure it out, too.”

She seemed dissatisfied with what you had to say, so you felt obliged to offer her something. With a huff, you continued.

“But- and I’m still not telling you what you are- you don’t have to feel uncomfortable with being a girl to be nonbinary. And, I know how easy it is to convince yourself that asking people to respect who you are means you’re being difficult or something. But, anyone who’s worth being in your life will respect who you are, without treating it like an inconvenience.”

You watched as she took in your words. She locked eyes with you once again.

“I’m nonbinary.”

You grinned.

“Welcome to the club, Pheebs.”

Phoebe smiled. She paused before speaking again.

“Can you say that you’re nonbinary?” 

You knitted your brows.

“Uh, I’m nonbinary?”

“Hi, nonbinary. I’m Phoebe.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

Annie and Abed are definitely the ones who find it the easiest to gender you correctly.

With Abed especially, he doesn’t treat it as a big deal, and he’s for sure the most understanding of it in the group.

Annie might be a bit awkward and ask questions of varying levels of appropriateness.

If you wear a pronoun pin or express a desire to get one, Annie will buy you matching pins in the same style.

Abed wants to be a good friend to you, so he’ll ask you outright if he’s not sure about something.

Jeff might not completely understand, but he finds most things easy, including getting your name/pronouns/etc. right.

He doesn’t bother asking you any questions; he figures everything out for himself.

Like Abed, he’s pretty good at not making your gender a big deal.

Britta will 100% be your biggest advocate.

She will always correct people if they get things wrong (even if you tell her she doesn't have to).

(If she ever accidentally misgenders you, Jeff will smugly correct her)

She will argue with Pierce if he’s a dick to you (more on him in a second).

And, if you run into any issues at Greendale, she will fight tooth and nail for you.

Troy gives off 'his pronouns are 'they/them'' energy.

He thinks that nonbinary people are cool as fuck.

He has a baseline understanding of it.

Like Annie, he asks you a lot of questions (also of varying levels of appropriateness).

A lot of his questions are outright bizarre compared to hers.

(‘Where does your gender fluid come from?’, for example)

Shirley doesn’t get the whole nonbinary thing (at first at least), but she will try her absolute best to show you respect and kindness.

And, despite her lack of understanding, she will stand up for you in a very motherly way.

(She will bring an eager Britta and a reluctant Jeff as her reinforcements)

I’m not sure where I stand with Pierce.

I can see him constantly making bottom of the barrel jokes about your gender that no one finds funny, and will either doubledown or backtrack with a defensive ‘what, can you say anything these days?’

But, I think with all the spiritual stuff he’s into, he might be comically understanding and accepting of nonbinary people. 

(It’s comical considering how bigoted/prejudiced or at the very least insensitive he is about race, gender etc.)

Maybe he’s a mixture of both of those things?

Either way, I can see him confidently making the dumbest and wildest claims about nonbinary people.

(Troy may or may not believe half of them and ask you to confirm)

And, on the rare occasion he says something right about nonbinary people, you’ll shamefully have to admit it.

As the years go on, it’s rare that any of them thinks much about your gender.

Even the ones who don’t understand it will get used to using your pronouns and gendering you correctly.

Everyone in the Study Group would, despite their varying levels of understanding, show as much respect to you as they do one another.