stykera | Outside MHA #4, Saturday Afternoon

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!]

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"Wh--" Summer started to protest, to protest the way he said her name like it meant something, that frown on his face, to point out that it was dumb and a waste of time, anyway, but...well...then she was being kissed, with emphasis, and, boy, did that just take the protest right out of her. She melted into it, a little encouraged by her exhaustion and relief to just let herself get caught up in it, hand curling at Stark's chest with a handful of that awful shirt he was still wearing.

"You're real," Stark murmured before resuming the kiss.

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.

And to be kissed like that right now...sure, it could have been because she'd spent the entirety of the last few days hunting down and kicking raccoon ass and that really did take a lot out of a person, but Summer leaned into it that much more, out of necessity, with her knees feeling a little weak.

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?",

Stark frowned again, even though he wanted to smile at the word gross.

"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."

Edited 2023-08-12 21:45 (UTC)

"You don't have to."

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."

"I don't want to go," Stark repeated. He tightened his grip on her hand but let himself be pulled along.

"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.

"I got hurt," Summer insisted, unlocking the door and gently leading Stark inside, "because I was an idiot, not because of you, Stark."

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?"

"You're not an idiot," Stark said quickly. "You're....you're you."

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..."

"So," said Summer, after a moment to just take all of that into consideration with a nod, "probably not much physical damage, but psychologically? Ooof. Do you need anything? A drink? Some booze? Are you hungry? Was the food real in that house?"

"Food cubes," Stark said dismissively. "I wasn't starving. You're hurt. We should take care of you."

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?"

Summer nodded, giving Stark a small smile.

"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."

"Clean sounds good," Stark said softly. He wasn't taking his eye off of her and he hadn't let go of her hand yet. "That's a good idea."

"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.

"If you want to," said Summer, "but I do have those nice fluffy robes, too, remember? We can save cloths clothes for tomorrow."

"I want to stay here. The robes sound wonderful." Curling up with Summer in fluffy robes sounded like the furthest thing from the past few days.

"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."

"I'm glad you're here, too," Summer said. Which should have been a given, since she'd practically draaagged him in and all, but she had the feeling he needed to hear it now more than usual, even. She let his hand linger for moment with a soft smile. She took his other one in both hands now and started backing up toward the bathroom. "Come on. First things first. Clean up time."

"Of course," Stark said, letting his hand fall gently.

"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.

"And then..." said Summer, letting go of Stark's hand so she could get the shower running, "we'll see. First things first, one thing at a time."

It was a very much needed shower for both of them. Not just for the usual reasons. It had gone differently than many other shared showers. Much gentler. Much quieter.

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?"

"I've had worse," Summer answered, her grin maybe just a bit cocky, as she settled back comfortably into the corner of the couch, and after looking at Stark again for a moment, she opened her arms to invite him in closer.

"Do you want to talk?" she asked. "Or just forget about it for a while?"

Stark didn't need a second invitation and was pressed against Summer's side with an arm behind her almost immediately.

"There are things I want to say," he told her softly. "But I don't know if I ought to."

And almost just as automatically, Summer's hand was resting on the top of his head.

"Like what?" she asked.

"It can wait," Stark said. "For now. Right now can we just...stay here? Like this? Please?"

"Whatever you need, Stark," Summer assured him, fingers now lightly rubbing the top of his head, hopefully soothingly. "But don't be mad if I eventually just pass out, okay?"

"I would never," Stark said, eye already closing halfway in response to that touch. "You can sleep. You need it."

So did he. He just hoped he wouldn't wake up screaming.

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Outside MHA #4, Saturday Afternoon

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