Iris and Me

Chapter 46: Chapter 43 : It always starts with a training montage (What gave you the idea?)


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Chapter 43 : It always starts with a training montage (What gave you the idea?)

 

Aria’s bedroom, the Thompson’s house, Forest Hills, Queens, New York, 27th of January, 1:27

 

I’m finally laying in my bed as I absentmindedly look at the cellphone that Fury gave me while playing with Iris’ hairs as she dozes on my torso, her ‘body’ half out of mine.

 

Her hug is comforting despite her nearly silent presence on our mind-link, and I’m fairly confident she would make little happy sighs under my ministrations if the day hadn’t been that exhausting.

 

The after dinner impulse to check on the results of my intel at SHIELD had revealed a rather darker picture than I thought and I decided then and there to lend a hand.

 

It hadn’t been in my plans, but plans generally don’t survive contact, so there’s that.

 

Anyway, Peggy Carter was alive and kicking, and she was going to be my contact in the future to keep all of our dealings off the book. She was going to be declared dead and her relatives would bury an empty coffin.

 

Fury hadn’t managed to convince her not to include her niece who just finished training in the smoking mirror play, though, so that one was definitely going to be part of their plots.

 

The plan was rather simple for now. Fury would divert some assets and trustworthy personnel toward Peggy and, once a critical mass was reached, they would start a multi-pronged assault on every base HYDRA had across the country.

 

The acting Director of the New York branch was confident that they could do all of their prep work in a convincing manner in under six months, and that meant I already had my summer booked.

 

After all, I was going to be one of the assets they’ll mobilize for the more difficult targets.

Well, Iris and I, codenamed Simurgh, but still.

 

I am still internally giggling at my impromptu choice of super name, though considering it was only one of two, and not my ‘public’ one, it would be fine.

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No one needed to know where it came from, after all.

 

Flipping the cellphone in my hand, I frown.

 

I, of course, already had a little ‘talk’ with Celly McCellphone, and he was totally-not-spying-on-me-I-swear now. Not that I was worried about HYDRA of course, since it was one of Fury’s personal devices.

 

No, it’s just that I am trusting the rather paranoid and jaded director only as far as I can throw him.

 

Unempowered.

 

His mind had been one of the most chaotic that I ever parsed through in my rather short experience as a telepath, but I think the guy is almost convinced that his own shadow is out to get him.

 

No matter, Peggy will whack some sense in his head if he goes out of line, I can trust the paragon of straightforwardness and patriotism that she is at least that much.

 

Perks of being a telepath, you can easily tell how people ticks.

 

She would probably be appalled to know that she barely compared favorably to a lovestruck teenager when I mentioned Steve though.

 

Bah, I am throwing stones on a glasshouse with that one, I frequently acted just as bad once upon a time.

 

As I let my hand fall next to me, I start to reminisce a bit.

 

“How did you not see the post?” Marie asks, rather puzzled.

 

“I was too busy looking at you.” I answer awkwardly, rubbing my forehead.

 

Marie beams at me and my heart skips a beat.

 

I let a chuckle escape my lips, the beginning of a sad smile on my face.

 

Closing my eyes with a low exhale, I attempt to center myself.

 

The air comes in my lungs ; it is cold. I let it go through my nose ; it is warm.

 

I cannot kill my emotions nor my past, but I have to move forward.

 

Oh, sure, I could just let the events of the timeline carry me through the ordeal, but that would be sort of an assholish move, the fact that the future has apparently been meddled with notwithstanding.

 

And it is too late to backtrack now, since I committed myself to assemble a group of heroes on my own.

 

The air comes in my lungs ; it is cold. I let it go through my nose ; it is warm.

 

So let’s make the Cap’ proud once he ends his impersonation of a popsicle, shall we?

 

…He probably isn’t going to like my views on the imprisonment of supervillains with a bodycount though.

 

I mean, as long as the only damage you do is of the property type, whatever. If you even manage to escape, well done, you outsmarted the goody two-shoes. Have your moment of fame. Mass entertainment at its finest.

 

The air comes in my lungs ; it is cold. I let it go through my nose ; it is warm.

 

The others though…

 

Especially the homicidal super geniuses who’d rather use their intellect to do dastardly deeds instead of striking it big while raising the society’s technological level.

 

Those can rot in Hell, and I’m going to make use of their ideas way better than them.

 

After ripping them out of their heads first.

 

The air comes in my lungs ; it is cold. I let it go through my nose ; it is warm.

 

I guess my nerd-culture conditioned me on hating lawless Tinkerers by principle, but now that comicdom is my life, I definitely see the appeal.

 

I’m sure the Cap’ will see my point once Flash and I start churning out patterns after patterns in every domain possible.

 

We could even associate ourselves with Stark junior once he realizes that making blood money isn’t as fashionable as he once thought.

 

The air comes in my lungs ; it is cold. I let it go through my nose ; it is warm.

 

Just how much two brainy supers with technopathy can raise the tech’ curve, I do wonder.

 

I’ll probably do some work with Flash early on before throwing myself to the deep end into genetics.

 

After all, tech is the low, broad power of the mass.

 

And the Gods only knows how much power we are going to need

 

The air comes in my lungs ; it is cold. I let it go through my nose ; it is warm.

 

I am still worried about the others, though.

 

The two spiders are going to need some real brain exercise real soon, otherwise they are going to go barmy and/or depressed.

 

Jessica is a whole other can of worms, the girl barely holding on because of her misplaced self-hate.

 

The air comes in my lungs ; it is cold. I let it go through my nose ; it is warm.

 

Not that I’m pretending to be any better, since I have my own issues to deal with, between dear Kevin’s death and Marie’s absence.

 

But I’ll manage, I’ll always do.

 

Won’t stop me from looking into how cops traditionally deal with the guilt they feel after a kill in self-defense. And probably take some counsels on how to grieve properly.

 

The air comes in my lungs ; it is cold. I let it go through my nose ; it is warm.

 

I belatedly realize that it is a lot easier to just focus when I’m not dealing with Iris’ endless teasing, though.

 

I raise my head a tad from my pillow, frowning at my symbiotic half.

 

Iris is immobile, the only indication that I have that she’s alive being her jumbled thoughts on our mind-link.

 

Feeling a little peeved, I poke the serial teaser with a finger until she rouses herself.

 

It takes barely a moment before she realizes what is happening.

 

Orienting her head to look at me better, her big upslanted eyes widen as she ‘awake’.

 

“What is happening, sister ?” She asks, and I hesitate to qualify her tone as sleepy.

 

“You teased me.” I answer, eyes narrowed.

 

Iris blinks, her hug tightening a little under my neck.

 

“I did.” She answers unabashedly.

 

“For the whole day.” I point out, scowling a bit.

 

Iris tilts her head to the side.

 

“Your point being, blood-sister ?” She asks.

 

“That corset was evil.” I answer as I start pouting like a child.

 

It has very little effect on my sister.

 

“You liked it.” She points out, one of her indexes thrown in my direction.

 

I squirm a little under her gaze.

 

“Fine, I did.” I grumble under my breath, “But it was still evil.”

 

Iris chuckles a little with her bell-like laugh, hiding her mouth cutely.

 

Why does she even bother, I have no idea.

 

“Don’t pretend it didn’t help you to not think about your other problems, because I know it did.” She adds as she hugs me once more, her previously freed arm snaking under my head once more.

 

I sigh a little.

 

“Yes.” I concede, a tinge of sadness coming back, “Yes it did.”

 

“There.” Iris says, her little feathers dancing happily all over her body, “And I’ll do it again in a heartbeat if it means you spend your day flustered instead of moppy, blood-sister.”

 

I chuckle a little at her stubbornness, slowly shaking my head.

 

“Alright, but you’ll have to pay it eventually.” I tease her back.

 

Iris perks up, her expression puzzled.

 

“How so ?” She asks, head tilted.

 

“Well,” I start, and I pull her higher on me gently, “For starters, how about you being a nice, warm blanket for me tonight ?”

 

She stares as we are literally nose to not-a-nose.

 

I give her my best puppy-eye look.

 

Iris silently relent, her body melting all around me, leaving only her ‘head’, ‘torso’ and ‘arms’.

 

I sigh happily as I suddenly have the impression of being surrounded and hugged by both the comfiest and breathiest blanket ever made.

 

So smooth on my naked skin, isolating all my nook and crannies from the cold of the room.

 

I hug my blanket-sister back with a happy smile, one of my hands losing itself in her tentacly-hairs, little feathers tickling the tip of my fingers.

 

Iris buries her head in my neck, nuzzling for a few seconds to find the right spot.

 

We stay silent for a bit, basking in each other’s company (and the blessed telepathic silence granted by Flash’s trinket from my part).

 

“You’re such a needy girl, blood-sister.” Iris declares, her hug tightening nonetheless around my neck and her voice smothered by my snowy curls.

 

I laugh throatily.

 

“You’re one to talk!” I tut at her teasingly, “You cling to me like a possessive koala every chance you have through the day!”

 

“But you’re so comfy.” She softly whines, “I have to give back some of that comfiness.”

 

I chuckle.

 

“I’m going to hate it when you go back to school.” She murmurs, “I won’t be able to hug you as much as you deserve it.”

 

“Awww.” I coo at her, little happy tears pearling at the corner of my eyes.

 

“It’s true.” Iris affirms as she pecks me on my neck, “My sister only deserves the best.”

 

The silence stretches for a bit as we lay comfortably.

 

“We will have to train lots.” Iris says after a while.

 

Amid the beginning of my sleep, I manage to communicate an almost verbal answer.

 

“Hmm.” I answer as my eyelids start to droop.

 

“What gave you the idea ?” She asks.

 

I blink a few times in an effort to come back to the discussion.

 

“What idea ?” I ask, stifling a yawn, “And you don’t know the answer ?”

 

“To schedule a training regimen for everyone.” Iris elaborates, “And no, not really. We didn’t speak about it beyond the ‘I got a plan for that’ line.”

 

I parse rapidly through our verbal and mental communication since the beginning of the week.

 

Uh.

 

I really did not.

 

“Well, you see all those books, movies, series and anime where the main character gets his ass handed to him by a more powerful foe to come back later and own him ?” I start lazily, drifting back to a sleepier state.

 

A beat passes as she skim through our shared memories.

 

“I do.” Iris finally answers.

 

“Notice what they do everytime it happens after they’re nursed back to health ?” I mumble, stifling another yawn.

 

Another beat passes.

 

“Oh, I got it.” Iris realizes aloud, “It always starts with a training montage.”

 

“Exactly, sister.” I mumble in answer.

 

“So, we’re what ? Skipping the getting our ass handed part ?” She wonders aloud.

 

I chuckle.

 

“Yeah, exactly, we’re skipping the getting our ass handed part.” I answer, a little bit amused as I slowly drift to sleep while tightening my own hug.

 

I barely hear her when she says her ‘Goodnight, blood-sister’ as she sends me a final [Love, care] through our mind-link for the day.


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