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Outside MHA #4, Saturday Afternoon
Stark had been freed from the House by Travis.
Once he'd managed to leave that area, reasonably assured that he was actually outside and this wasn't just another trick, he'd headed home. Except not quite home. He stopped one floor lower than his apartment and pounded (albeit weakly) on Summer's door.
When she didn't answer he'd slid to the floor and leaned against the door frame. He couldn't call her or text. His phone was very dead.
He ought to go upstairs and change his clothes and bathe and charge his phone but he found himself unable to muster the energy to do any of that. He was just going to wait here for her. That seemed best. He would wait here and she would come home and he could be assured that she was all right. Then maybe he'd make his way back upstairs. Once he was sure.
For now there was a very exhausted alien slumped against Summer's doorframe. Waiting.
[I know it's a shock but expecting the ginger who lives in that apartment!]
Once he'd managed to leave that area, reasonably assured that he was actually outside and this wasn't just another trick, he'd headed home. Except not quite home. He stopped one floor lower than his apartment and pounded (albeit weakly) on Summer's door.
When she didn't answer he'd slid to the floor and leaned against the door frame. He couldn't call her or text. His phone was very dead.
He ought to go upstairs and change his clothes and bathe and charge his phone but he found himself unable to muster the energy to do any of that. He was just going to wait here for her. That seemed best. He would wait here and she would come home and he could be assured that she was all right. Then maybe he'd make his way back upstairs. Once he was sure.
For now there was a very exhausted alien slumped against Summer's doorframe. Waiting.
[I know it's a shock but expecting the ginger who lives in that apartment!]
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And then there was a very awkward and somewhat embarrassed pause.
"I, uh, was maybe down in the sewers. Fighting with some raccoons."
And, before he could ask or protest, or anything else, she piggyback her own comment with further explanation. "When you didn't show up at the bar on Wednesday and then I found out you weren't home after breaking into your apartment afterwards, I thought maybe they were hoping to use all these other missing people as a cover-up for kidnapping you again."
There was a sigh. A big one, with a roll of her eyes and a small shrug.
"I was....wrong. I was definitely giving those guys way too much credit."
But, like, in her defense, if she were running a weird cult centered around some dude and his mask, that was totally what she would have done!
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He frowned for a moment, looking her over as best he could without really letting go. Frowning while looking at someone like they were the only person in the world probably made for an odd expression.
"You looked for me. And you got hurt. And I..."
There were so many things he wanted to say right now but he wasn't sure he should. Or knew the right words.
"Summer."
Maybe he didn't need words. Maybe he just needed to lean in to kiss her like he thought he'd never see her again.
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He let his hand find its way to her hair. He didn't care if it was a mess. He didn't care about anything right now except that she was here and she was real and he was holding on to her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Maybe she was.
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But she did eventually have to come up for air, and when she did, she didn't pull away too far, and she was smiling.
"I'm real," she echoed, then added, "gross and disgusting and covered in sewer and raccoon blood."
What?
"And you've been wearing this shirt," she picked at the shoulder a little with a wrinkled nose, "since Wednesday, haven't you?",
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"Yes. I...I should change. But I wanted to see you. No. I needed to. I...I was worried."
That he might never see her again, that she was hurt, that some of what the House had showed him was real, that he might never get to tell her things he needed to tell her. There were so many worries.
"So I waited for you. Here. But I...I can go? I don't want to. I can. If you need to rest. You should and you should clean those scratches and you should...I don't want to go."
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There was so much being said here that Summer felt needed to be unpacked, but, for the time being, that much she knew for sure. They could get to all the rest of it later.
She then shifted a little, sort of wriggling out Stark's arms enough so that she could just take his hand hand, leaving her other one free to fish out her keys and pull him with her toward the door. "Come on. There's probably some pretty gnarly scratches all up on my back, too, I'll need help with those."
She paused, looking back at him over her shoulder. "If you wanted to."
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"Please. It was...I don't want to go. I'll help with whatever you need. Whatever you want. You're hurt because of me."
There was guilt and there was worry and there was a desperation to not be left alone. And there was the nearly overwhelming urge to blurt out something he could never take back.
He wouldn't want to take it back even if he could.
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Like, ego much? God.
"But what about you?" she asked, and, now inside, she turned to face him again. "You said you were trapped in a house? Are you okay?"
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She was wonderful and she was brave and she was hurt.
"I'm...I don't know. I might be? I will be. I think. It was...none of it was real but it all felt real and I thought you were there but I couldn't get to you and I tried..."
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Then he could make sure she was fine.
"I just need...I don't know what I need. I just...I came here to find you. I needed that. Needed you. You're helping already. Just being here. I thought you were lost in there and I thought I was lost in there and I thought...I thought I might never find you again..."
And then he could never voice what he needed to.
"I...right now I think...something clean to wear. That would be good. For both of us?"
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"If we're going to get clean clothes," she said, "we should probably be clean, too. I know I definitely need a shower before I can properly process."
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"But I don't have clothes here. I...do you want me to go upstairs?"
He still didn't want to go anywhere. He wanted to stay right where he was.
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"I...I missed you. I know it wasn't that many days but I did and I...I'm just glad you're here."
He reached up with his free hand to touch her cheek. "I'm glad I'm here."
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"We'll make sure you're not badly injured. And clean everything. And then robes. And then..."
Then he wanted to talk. Or just cling. Or talk and cling.
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Once they were clean and bundled in their fluffy robes on the couch Stark was feeling almost relaxed for the first time in days.
"Much better," he said, not for the first time. "This is so much better. Nothing hurts too much?"
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"Do you want to talk?" she asked. "Or just forget about it for a while?"
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"There are things I want to say," he told her softly. "But I don't know if I ought to."
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"Like what?" she asked.
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So did he. He just hoped he wouldn't wake up screaming.