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fandomweekly2022-12-07 11:10 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote in fandomweekly2022-12-07 11:10 pm
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[#153] I Breathe in on the Tick and Out on the Tock (DCEU)
Theme Prompt: #153—Insomnia
Title: I Breathe in on the Tick, and Out on the Tock
Fandom: DC Extended Universe
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 | Spoilers for Black Adam, Wild conjecture based on Carter’s comic origins
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Carter is having trouble sleeping after Kahndaq.
Ever since Kahndaq, he’s been having the dreams again.
He rolls over and there she is, in all her glory, long hair flowing as she murmurs sweet nothings like he’s woken up from a nightmare where she doesn’t exist to find her there, the other half of his heart, the thing that makes him feel the most whole. There’s hope, for a moment, happiness that he’s found his way home again, but when he reaches out to claim that happiness, he wakes, drenched in a cold sweat in his manor and alone. He aches for her in ways that he’s needed no one else, and while Kent had filled in for a while, having known a past incarnation or two of Carter, now that he’s gone all of his anchors to the present are gone, leaving him with only the past. And now, he’s finding sleep more frustrating than helpful.
So he doesn’t sleep.
He heads to the gym, needing to find ways of exhausting himself so that he doesn’t dream. A few hours of beating up some of the gym dummies should do the trick, and by the time several of them are decapitated, he hears a quiet voice behind him.
“Do you ever sleep?”
Nerves on high, he almost flings his mace at the sound of the intrusion, but just before the handle leaves his grip, his sleep addled brain makes the connection. Maxine. Friend, not foe. She’s standing in the doorframe, watching him. A little amusement drummed up to hide the concern. He takes a breath to relax and frowns.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on someone like that.”
“Hence why I announced myself.” Her head tips to the side. “You okay?”
He shakes his head. “Bad dreams. Just trying to avoid them.”
Maxine nods, considering, before glancing back at him with an eyebrow raise. “I’ve got a hack for that.”
“Oh, really?”
“C’mon.” She turns and leads the way back into the house, and he has no choice but to follow her—Maxine isn’t the type to share outright her whims with the rest of the class, so he’ll have to wait until she’s ready to tell him.
They end up in the kitchen, and he perches on one stool at the counter, watching as she moves through the motions of whatever plan she has. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Math,” she replies simply. “Your computers are faster than anything I have access to at home.”
Carter nods, but doesn’t seem bothered by it. He trusts Maxine. If it were Rothstein, there’d be some concerns. She turns on the stove and begins cooking whatever comfort food she’s conjuring, before glancing back at him.
“So, what are you dreaming about? Kent?”
She asks it so casually that he almost answers immediately, before remembering that there’s so much about him that Maxine doesn’t know. She’s new to his life, in the grand scheme of things, and he doesn’t know how much he wants to burden her. “Not exactly.”
She glances back at him, setting a lid over whatever’s on the stove, and raises an eyebrow. “Context, please?”
Carter raises one in return. “Who’s house are you cooking in right now?”
“Dreams are our subconscious trying to process information. And from what I understand, your brain has a lot of information to process.” Carter blinks at that statement and she sighs. “I read your file.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s why I agreed to work for you. I had to make sure it would not be—”
Carter understands why she did it—she has her reasons to be concerned. “You could have asked.”
“I’m asking now.”
He studies her again, before sighing and relaxing his shoulders a bit. “I’m not the only one who reincarnates like this. I have a partner.”
“Romantic or superhero?”
“Both.” Partner almost seems like the wrong word for what she is to him. He doesn’t feel grounded until she’s with him, a lesser version of himself in every way. “But we don’t always wake up at the same time.”
“So you don’t know where she is or who she is?”
He nods. “Kent knew a couple of versions of me. He was alive for a long time. We met once when he was a kid, again as adults—you get the picture. Even if I didn’t have Chay-Ara, Kent kept me…grounded.”
“You have nothing to anchor you in the here and now.” Maxine nods. “If you show me what she looks like, I could build you an algorithm. Help you find her.”
That is a tempting offer. A very tempting offer. A part of him is very willing to jump on it and take it, but he also knows he has to exhibit some restraint. “If she’s not awake, she won’t remember. So me walking up to her and telling her she’s my lost soulmate and we’ve been reincarnated hundreds of times together…has not historically gone well.”
“Because you have all the subtlety and tact of a Mack Truck?” She pulls the pot off the stove and spoons some of it into a bowl. The scents of nutmeg, honey and cinnamon rise from the mush of oats as she sets it down in front of him. “I say that with love.”
“You’re not wrong.” Hence his hesitance. He takes the bowl and gestures for her to follow him back through the museum gallery to a private section of his collection that no one else usually gets to see. There is a large portrait from the early nineteen hundreds in the center of the room. He remembers the day he commissioned it. “This is the best picture I have of her.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“She is.” He glances back at Maxine. “You can use the computers whenever you like. Just text me and let me know you’re here.”
“And if I find something interesting in my work?”
He hesitates at the door. “Let me know.” And maybe, with steps in the direction, he might get some sleep.
Title: I Breathe in on the Tick, and Out on the Tock
Fandom: DC Extended Universe
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 | Spoilers for Black Adam, Wild conjecture based on Carter’s comic origins
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Carter is having trouble sleeping after Kahndaq.
Ever since Kahndaq, he’s been having the dreams again.
He rolls over and there she is, in all her glory, long hair flowing as she murmurs sweet nothings like he’s woken up from a nightmare where she doesn’t exist to find her there, the other half of his heart, the thing that makes him feel the most whole. There’s hope, for a moment, happiness that he’s found his way home again, but when he reaches out to claim that happiness, he wakes, drenched in a cold sweat in his manor and alone. He aches for her in ways that he’s needed no one else, and while Kent had filled in for a while, having known a past incarnation or two of Carter, now that he’s gone all of his anchors to the present are gone, leaving him with only the past. And now, he’s finding sleep more frustrating than helpful.
So he doesn’t sleep.
He heads to the gym, needing to find ways of exhausting himself so that he doesn’t dream. A few hours of beating up some of the gym dummies should do the trick, and by the time several of them are decapitated, he hears a quiet voice behind him.
“Do you ever sleep?”
Nerves on high, he almost flings his mace at the sound of the intrusion, but just before the handle leaves his grip, his sleep addled brain makes the connection. Maxine. Friend, not foe. She’s standing in the doorframe, watching him. A little amusement drummed up to hide the concern. He takes a breath to relax and frowns.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on someone like that.”
“Hence why I announced myself.” Her head tips to the side. “You okay?”
He shakes his head. “Bad dreams. Just trying to avoid them.”
Maxine nods, considering, before glancing back at him with an eyebrow raise. “I’ve got a hack for that.”
“Oh, really?”
“C’mon.” She turns and leads the way back into the house, and he has no choice but to follow her—Maxine isn’t the type to share outright her whims with the rest of the class, so he’ll have to wait until she’s ready to tell him.
They end up in the kitchen, and he perches on one stool at the counter, watching as she moves through the motions of whatever plan she has. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Math,” she replies simply. “Your computers are faster than anything I have access to at home.”
Carter nods, but doesn’t seem bothered by it. He trusts Maxine. If it were Rothstein, there’d be some concerns. She turns on the stove and begins cooking whatever comfort food she’s conjuring, before glancing back at him.
“So, what are you dreaming about? Kent?”
She asks it so casually that he almost answers immediately, before remembering that there’s so much about him that Maxine doesn’t know. She’s new to his life, in the grand scheme of things, and he doesn’t know how much he wants to burden her. “Not exactly.”
She glances back at him, setting a lid over whatever’s on the stove, and raises an eyebrow. “Context, please?”
Carter raises one in return. “Who’s house are you cooking in right now?”
“Dreams are our subconscious trying to process information. And from what I understand, your brain has a lot of information to process.” Carter blinks at that statement and she sighs. “I read your file.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s why I agreed to work for you. I had to make sure it would not be—”
Carter understands why she did it—she has her reasons to be concerned. “You could have asked.”
“I’m asking now.”
He studies her again, before sighing and relaxing his shoulders a bit. “I’m not the only one who reincarnates like this. I have a partner.”
“Romantic or superhero?”
“Both.” Partner almost seems like the wrong word for what she is to him. He doesn’t feel grounded until she’s with him, a lesser version of himself in every way. “But we don’t always wake up at the same time.”
“So you don’t know where she is or who she is?”
He nods. “Kent knew a couple of versions of me. He was alive for a long time. We met once when he was a kid, again as adults—you get the picture. Even if I didn’t have Chay-Ara, Kent kept me…grounded.”
“You have nothing to anchor you in the here and now.” Maxine nods. “If you show me what she looks like, I could build you an algorithm. Help you find her.”
That is a tempting offer. A very tempting offer. A part of him is very willing to jump on it and take it, but he also knows he has to exhibit some restraint. “If she’s not awake, she won’t remember. So me walking up to her and telling her she’s my lost soulmate and we’ve been reincarnated hundreds of times together…has not historically gone well.”
“Because you have all the subtlety and tact of a Mack Truck?” She pulls the pot off the stove and spoons some of it into a bowl. The scents of nutmeg, honey and cinnamon rise from the mush of oats as she sets it down in front of him. “I say that with love.”
“You’re not wrong.” Hence his hesitance. He takes the bowl and gestures for her to follow him back through the museum gallery to a private section of his collection that no one else usually gets to see. There is a large portrait from the early nineteen hundreds in the center of the room. He remembers the day he commissioned it. “This is the best picture I have of her.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“She is.” He glances back at Maxine. “You can use the computers whenever you like. Just text me and let me know you’re here.”
“And if I find something interesting in my work?”
He hesitates at the door. “Let me know.” And maybe, with steps in the direction, he might get some sleep.