return_to_nola

Sam had started the drive from Westchester to Connecticut quietly, shifting between X-related rumination and affection for Oliver. He would drift away on some thought or memory or other (a softball game, a funeral, a moment with a student, playing chess with Charles) and then return back to reality -- back to Oliver -- and reach out to him with some topic of conversation or other.

But as an hour turned into two hours, Sam was feeling more solid. His shoulders loosened, the knots in his muscles gradually uncoiled, and he found his smile more frequently. He even, at one point, sang along to the car radio. It was good to be going home, to be chasing a tricky Scott moment with a positive Sam one.

And now it was time for Oliver to meet the Scotts. When they arrived (they had pulled over to cast critical eyes over their appearances; Scott had changed his shirt and combed Oliver's hair), it was like stepping into a sunny patch of day, even though it was getting late.

Sam had grown up with just his mom and his aunt. His mom had bought the house when she was pregnant with Sam; they had lived here his whole life. It had never been weird that he raised by his mom and her sister; they loved him like parents and loved each other like best friends, and they were fun, outgoing, loving people. They were women quick to laugh, women who played board games like they were the coolest thing in the world, women who owned a karaoke machine and who still, even without Sam, hung out at the piano in the living room and sang songs together.

When they arrived, it was all a happy blur. Sam's aunt ("Call me Sarah", she had ordered Oliver with a hug and a kiss on each cheek) had greeted them with cocktails. Well, more specifically, a cocktail called "The Oliver," which was minty and zesty and disturbingly accurate. She was talkative and friendly, and she managed to take Sam and Oliver on a tour of the house -- excluding Sam's room -- in which she lovingly made fun of Sam in every single room. (If Oliver had been nervous about fitting in with this family, maybe this introduction would make him more relaxed).

And then Sam's mother had arrived home from work, and Sam, who now remembered a life where he had lost a mother in a horrific way, hugged her a little too hard and too long. But he was comfortable here at home, and he held Oliver's hand under the table at dinner and laughed as he accused his mother and aunt of cheating at a brisk game of monopoly (Oliver had been given first pick of player piece, because he was the guest).

Finally, though, they were alone again, and now, Sam could show Oliver his room. It was exactly as it had always been: neat and orderly, clean, a slate of neutrals. There was a Top Gun poster on the door, of course, and a keyboard stand and guitar stand next to it in the corner (the keyboard was in New Orleans, the guitar was exactly where Sam had left it). His bookshelf was stacked with books and model planes, and a few model cars; there was a framed photo of Sam, his mother, and his aunt on his desk (his mom must have kindly removed the photo of Sam and his ex that used to sit beside it). There was a corkboard with old pennants, photos of Sam in baseball uniforms or costumes, an invitation to a wedding he'd attended with his ex, his college acceptance letter, little slices of his quiet little life. The room was an oasis from the colour and happy noise of the rest of the house, and it was here that Sam leaned against the wall, finally fully loose-limbed and comfortable, and watched Pietro-Oliver meet baby Sam through his things. For once, there was a free and uncomplicated smile on his face. "So this is it."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

nola_quicksilver

"It's sweet," Oliver agreed. "What was your favorite one?"

From:

nola_cyclops

“The oldest ones, Scottie and Slim. People only used them when they were feeling good about me, and they only really belong to Alex and Logan and the other four from the beginning.”

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe you would've been happier if the team had stayed smaller, like that."

From:

nola_cyclops

Sam smiled a little, surprised. “Go on.”

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver laughed softly in confusion. "Go on with what?" He'd just been thinking out loud, as usual.

From:

nola_cyclops

“What makes you say that?” Sam wanted to dive deep into every thought!

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Just that you seem happiest when you're talking about core groups of people," Oliver said slowly. "Like maybe that was less dysfunctional."

From:

nola_cyclops

"Well, those people are my family. And over the last few years, with everything that's happened, I've really missed having that family, and I came back from the dead with all the memories of my younger self who was only just starting out with those people... and I had also just come back from the dead in general, which I guess makes you nostalgic." Also, Xavier had died at Scott's feet; that had changed everything, even within that core group. "But it was dysfunctional then, and even though it was always hard adjusting to new eras, I wouldn't give up the big network of mutant heroes I helped train or lead. I mean, all my friends, all the people I trust, they all came up from us getting bigger. It gave me a bigger life. Even if it all went to hell a hundred times." Still, Oliver had a point. "I'm always better in small groups though; it's harder for me to be interesting in a crowd."

From:

nola_quicksilver

"But you don't necessarily have to be in charge of that big network forever, right? Just because something's for the greater good doesn't mean it's the best for you personally." Oliver planted his elbow on the bed next to Sam's head, and rested his head on his hand. "You deserve to be happy."

From:

nola_cyclops

"I haven't been in charge of it for a while, since Xavier... it's the figuring out what's next that I'm not very good at doing." His mutant revolution had partly been fuelled by a breakdown, losing Xavier and his friends and family all at once -- losing Emma, too. He had come back to the living and gotten straight to work because he couldn't walk away, and because his people were hurting. But there, even, it was clear that he probably shouldn't be their leader. In the field, sure -- no one was better than Scott at leading in battle -- but out of it? It wasn't working. It hadn't worked for a while. "I just always thought I knew where that life would go, and I wanted that so badly, to run the school, to succeed the Professor, quit the field and keep training those kids and giving them a home. I don't know what else would make me, Scott-me, happy."

From:

nola_quicksilver

"We'll find it. We'll keep trying things until we find it for you." Oliver set his jaw a little, already daring the universe to stop them.

From:

nola_cyclops

"I'm not against Cyclops and Quicksilver driving across America, beating up people who beat up mutants," Sam suggested with a grin. Look, Oliver had made him feel so much better about Scott's fucked-up life that he could both joke and not-joke about a future plan!

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Oh God, are we going to live in a camper van?"

From:

nola_cyclops

Sam laughed. "You could just run places to avoid traveling in it."

From:

nola_quicksilver

"But then I wouldn't be with you." Oliver sighed. "I've done it before, I suppose I could do it again. For you."

From:

nola_cyclops

What a sweetheart. "Don't worry, I won't make you. I can marry an Avenger, it feels karmically right, in a way."

From:

nola_quicksilver

"And marry me in the garden of the Avengers mansion?" He was just fucking with Sam now.

From:

nola_cyclops

"God, are you going to make Captain America officiate the wedding? I'm going to have some real problems with the guest list." Sam was enjoying the teasing!

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Make? Steve would love to officiate, but he'd probably cry midway through. Better ask Thor—how'd you like to be married by a god?" Oliver grinned.

From:

nola_cyclops

Sam rolled his eyes. Getting along with Steve was going to be difficult, if he ever needed to. "I'd rather ask Kitty Pryde's dragon." Now that's a wedding.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Can the dragon talk?"

From:

nola_cyclops

"Well, he can communicate." Scott and Lockheed were pals! "But no, not so much."

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver huffed a laugh. "Mm, it's a no on that. But honestly, I'd be happy just getting married by a justice of the peace or something. We've both had big weddings before; I'd just want to be married to you."