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You still weren’t sure what to think of this new team, especially after King Shark nearly ate Cle—Ratcatcher the night before. (You didn’t use real names with teammates, not until they’d survived a few missions first. Harley had been the only exception to that, because she was Harley. It didn’t matter how sweet and peaceful Ratcatcher seemed, how adorable Sebastian was, because she hadn’t yet passed the Squad test.) The team roster was strange as well. Of the six of you, you were the only one who had been sent out before. All of the other original members were either dead (Diablo and Croc) or had managed an escape (Deadshot and Harley). This new team had never been on a mission together before, had never functioned as a team before, and it had you on edge. Bloodsport was your leader, but he’d never had to lead before.
That was it. That was what had you so on edge. The Squad always had a leader, and he wasn’t here. You had never been sent out on a mission without Rick leading the charge, and you could admit to yourself that you were worried. Worried for your team leader, for your friend, for your lover. Almost as if sensing your thoughts, Bloodsport’s eyes darted over to you. Your worry must have been showing on your face, and you quickly brightened and flashed your current team leader a wide smile. The kind of smile that said nothing-to-see-here and everything-is-okay. It might not have conveyed either of those sentiments, but Bloodsport did roll his eyes and look ahead again. You let your steps slow, just enough so that you weren’t keeping time with the leader (for now). When you settled back into an easy forward motion, you realized you were walking next to Cle-Ratcatcher.
This team was alright, and the mission was already off to a better start than your very first one. That mission had been an absolute shit-show. No one had trusted each other, Rick and Deadshot had been at each other’s throats, and there’d been an angry witch trying to destroy the world. The aftermath of the mission hadn’t been so bad, you thought as you ducked under some greenery. Harley and Boomer had become friends, after another couple of missions. Rick had become so much more. The tension between the two of you had built throughout missions, until you both had finally given in after surviving another doomed-to-fail mission. You didn’t care that Rick had the ability to blow your head off, and Rick didn’t care that you’d committed crimes to get yourself locked up in Belle Reve. You knew the two of you shouldn’t work, but you did. Rick was an open book to you, and you had no doubts about your relationship. You loved him, he loved you, and why wasn’t he here on this very important mission?
“I really like the glitter in your hair.” Ratcatcher’s voice startled you from your thoughts, even though her voice had been quiet. Not like she was trying to whisper but more like she was still half asleep, which probably wasn’t completely wrong.
“I really like your Sebastian,” you told her in the same quiet tone. Her smile was small and brightened her eyes, and the rat perched on her shoulder waved while emitting a few squeaks. Ratcatcher was preparing to translate when their comms started to cackle, and they all kept moving but went completely silent as they waited to see what was going to be said.
“Task Force X, you have an additional mission directive.”
That was rarely good news. It usually meant they were all one step closer to death, and it was such a beautiful morning.
“We have located Colonel Rick Flag. He’s been taken by the enemy.”
Rick was here? In Corto Maltese? That didn’t make any sense. If he was part of this mission, he should have been sent with them. Why was he here, and how did he get taken? You could hear more words being spoken between Waller and Bloodsport, but your mind could only repeat a single name in time with your accelerating heartrate. Rick, Rick, Rick.
“You had other operatives in Corto Maltese and didn’t tell us?”
“There was no tactical advantage, and now there is.”
Taking out the men around the camp was almost too easy. King Shark was able to eat his fill, hopefully enough that he wouldn’t feel the urge to eat any of the team later, and Bloodsport and Peacemaker turned the entire thing into some kind of one-upmanship. You hung back a bit with Ratcatcher, only using your abilities when necessary, while your eyes constantly scanned for signs of Rick. Where would a prisoner be kept? Would they even keep him alive? You quickly brushed that thought aside, he had to be alive and you would accept no alternative, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when the Polka Dot Man finally did his thing. It was a good distraction, for about six seconds, and then you were looking around the space again for where Rick could have been stashed. The others were talking around you, but you could hear him. You knew that laugh, and you felt frozen as Bloodsport started talking.
Everyone was talking, freedom fighters and not enemies, but your sole focus was the on the person now walking outside. He’d clearly been injured, white squares were taped against his skin, and he was clearly angry as he glared down the line at your current team. Then he was completely outside with his focus now turned towards you, and you got to see the way his hardened expression lightened. The glare turned into gentle surprise as his flattened lips softened, and you couldn’t stop yourself. Your control of your abilities slipped, just for a moment, just enough to propel you through the air until you were against his solid form. Rick stumbled back a step but easily caught you, held you up with his arms locked around your waist, and your hands moved through his hair and across his shoulders as your lips pressed fleeting kisses from his temple to his chin.
“Said you were taken. Thought you were gone,” you whispered against his ear. You knew that your teammates were watching the exchange but didn’t care, because Rick was here and he was alive.
“C’mon, Y/N, you know it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” It was said against your cheek, warm breath that tickled, and you clenched your eyes shut. You could smell sweat and brine from the ocean, sand and gunpowder, but now wasn’t the time to question what had happened. There was still a mission, which meant that you had to let him go. For now.
With one last nip to his earlobe, you unlocked yourself from Rick. He kept his hands tight on your hips until your feet were fully on the ground, and his grip tightened for just a moment before letting you go. His way of letting you know that the conversation wasn’t over, just on pause. You happily skipped back so that Rick could do damage control, it was clearly needed since your team had just made a massive mistake, and you ignored Peacemaker’s smile as you stood next to him in line. You didn’t care who knew about you and Rick, and Rick had stopped caring after Waller made it clear that she didn’t care. (You knew, after a quick peek into the woman’s terrifying mind, that Waller allowed it because she thought it kept both you and Rick more in line. Rick was more likely to put up with criminals as long as he was involved with one, and you were more likely to do your best on missions and to follow orders if only to keep Rick alive. She was a calculating woman, that one.)
None of that mattered at the moment. Rick was here now, and you knew that the mission was going to be much easier moving forward. Bloodsport had the makings of a decent leader, but Rick was already a tested leader. You trusted him, and he had the ability to inspire trust in others. Even those that didn’t trust easily. So you listened to Rick talk, hummed as you rocked on your feet, and started thinking about what to do once the mission was over. There’d be time, in between finishing the mission and being returned to Belle Reve. You could get the whole story from Rick then. You’d be able to talk, or not talk. As you watched the sun glinting off the tips of his hair and soaking into his skin, you smiled and thought of all the ways that you could fill the time absolutely not talking.
[DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS]
Your job had been clear, to set bombs with Peacemaker and King Shark. It made sense, in a way. A seasoned Squad member with each group. Bloodsport and Polka had Harley, because Harley was on the island too and was alive and you’d been so happy to see your best friend again. (The news of Boomer dying had been enough to dampen the celebration. You were going to miss Boomer. The original Squad was slowly dying off, one mission at a time.) Rick went up with Ratcatcher and the Thinker, and you did not trust that Thinker guy. The hardware messed with your ability to read his mind, and you always felt uncomfortable when you couldn’t get a glimpse of people’s thoughts. Your focus was on your mission, your focus was on your worries and how something didn’t feel right, and you missed the moment when Peacemaker slipped away. For such a big guy, he could move real quietly.
“Keep up the good work, big guy,” you said with a pat to King Shark’s back.
You ran from the room you’d been working in and started down hallways, and you forced yourself to push your telepathic abilities. You usually had to be in the same room as someone to read their thoughts, but you’d been practicing. Rick had been letting you practice with him, because there were no secrets between the two of you, and you searched for his mind now. Your immediate sense of relief at finding him faded once you felt how angry his thoughts were, how betrayed, and you blinked falling concrete dust from your eyes as you ran. The floor and walls around you were beginning to shake, but you were so focused on moving forward that you didn’t have time to protect yourself as the ceiling collapsed. Hard blocks slammed into you, your head knocked against the concrete floor, and you lost track of time.
When you came back to yourself, you were shocked to realize that you could still hear Rick’s thoughts. That you had managed to keep the connection while being so disoriented. Then you recognized the clear focus of Rick’s thoughts, the way his mind was when he was fighting, and you scrambled to your feet. You jumped over debris and looked away from grotesque bodies, until you could finally see Rick. He was kneeling over Peacemaker, the both of them bloody and streaked with dust, and you were too far away to help. You could see Peacemaker’s hand curling around something, something sharp. You dropped to your knees and flung out your hands as you screamed, “NO!”
The telekinesis was difficult to control, hardly ever completely accurate, and your entire body was pulled taut as you channeled your ability. One hand was pointed towards Rick, towards the sharp point aimed at his heart, while the other was trained on Peacemaker. You could feel your body shaking from the effort to hold them both still, and you cried out as you clenched your hands into fists and twisted your body to the side. The sharp whatever-that-was flew from Rick’s chest, causing him to fall backwards, and Peacemaker was thrown to the side and through a metal grating. You didn’t care about where Peacemaker had landed, as long as he didn’t come back. You crawled forward on your hands and knees until you reached Rick’s side, and you realized your hands were shaking as you pushed your fingers against the sides of his neck. After a moment that felt like an eternity, you felt a weak pulse against your fingertips.
“You’re alive. Of course you’re alive,” you whispered. Rick currently seemed out of it, but that was probably for the best. Having a giant stab wound in his chest couldn’t be comfortable. It was better for him to be unconscious, even if you could really use the comfort of his voice right now.
Your hands were already ripping at your uniform, thick strips of material, and your hands were steady now as you packed his wounds. First the hole in his chest, and you tried not to imagine how close Rick had come to having his heart pierced. Too close for your sanity, that was for sure. A bit more of your uniform was used to plug the hole in Rick’s side, and why was Rick always getting injured? After you got him out of here, the two of you were going to have a very serious talk about his reckless heroic ways because your mental state couldn’t handle too many more near death experiences. At least there hadn’t been any witches during this mission.
Right after that thought, everything around you began to shake violently. Oh. Project Starfish. The actual giant starfish you thought you had imagined as you rushed to find Rick. Felt like it was starting to truly break free, starting to break everything around you, and you quickly thought over your options. You were strong, strong enough to lift Rick, but you didn’t think you’d be able to carry him and run out of here before the entire structure fell on your heads. The only thing that could possibly work was shielding Rick with your own body and letting your telekinesis keep the worst of it off the both of you. The telekinesis wasn’t always exact, but you knew that you could do this. You could keep both of you safe. You were going to make sure that both of you made it out of this alive.
As the first piece of ceiling fell to the ground next to you, you scrambled on top of Rick and stretched your body out over his. You pulled his arms between your bodies, using his own hands to put pressure over the bandaging on his chest, and you trusted your abilities to keep you safe. Chunks of falling building fell to the wayside, and you kept your abilities wrapped tight around both of your bodies as the entire structure started to fall. Instead of crashing through collapsing floors, the two of you seemed to float through the destruction. You could feel the strain of controlling such large and heavy objects, while also guiding yours and Rick’s bodies, but you pushed through the exhaustion you could feel building. You knew that you could do this, so you were going to do this.
Minutes or hours could have passed as the building collapsed, until it finally settled. You and Rick were nestled behind a chunk of upright wall, protected from the giant screaming thing that you could tell was moving farther away, and you slumped against Rick’s body. You could feel him breathing, each breath gently raised and lowered you, and you were faintly aware of blood against your face and the sides of your neck. It seemed as if you had pushed yourself a little too hard, but you and Rick were both alive. You knew there was still a fight, that the mission wasn’t over, but you let yourself trust your team. You had already proved yourself in missions, now it was their turn. Rick needed you, and you needed a quick nap before you could get both of you out of there.
[WINNER: SUICIDE SQUAD]
You could still hear the distant sounds of fighting as you got to your feet, and you stretched your arms over your head and let your spine realign. Going by your professional opinion, the fight was nearly over. There was no screaming or pops of gunfire, so it seemed like your nap had lasted the entire battle. That was just fine by you, especially as you looked down at Rick. He was still breathing, still so wonderfully alive, and you reached down with a grin to haul him up. After using your abilities to survive a collapsing building, it was almost laughably easy to raise Rick’s body into the air and balance him in your arms. It didn’t matter that he was bigger than you, carrying him damsel-style made him easier to direct as your telekinesis helped him to float through the air, and you started off into the city.
Much smaller dead starfishes littered the ground, as did very obviously dead people, and there were quite a number of rats running around as well. With a shrug, you wrapped your abilities around yourself and pushed yourself to fly through the city. You could feel Harley’s thoughts nearby, bubblegum thoughts, and you lowered yourself to the ground right behind where she was standing next to Bloodsport. Flying took a little extra energy, so you gave yourself a moment to catch your breath as you made sure that Rick was secure in your arms. He was still somewhat floating, but you were holding some of his weight now. Not that you minded. Feeling the solid warm weight of him helped you to know that he was alive, even if he was still unconscious.
“Flag was my friend,” you heard Harley say.
“Mine too, and I don’t got many of those,” Bloodsport added.
“Quit talkin’ ‘bout me like ‘m dead,” Rick suddenly slurred. He was awake! Bloodsport managed to cut off a scream as he jumped and turned to look at the ground, where you were standing and holding a conscious Rick in your arms, and Harley let herself actually scream as she vaulted off the debris she’d been standing on.
“Flaggy! You’re alive! Oh, I knew you’d make it!” Harley yelled and locked her arms around Rick’s neck. You could hear Rick sputtering and saw his hand jerk like he wanted to return the hug, so you moved the arm under his legs and reached for Harley instead. You could hear Harley talking a mile a minute as the two of you hugged with Rick sandwiched between you, and Bloodsport mumbled out something that sounded like, “Lucky motherfucker.”
“Yeah, ‘m okay,” Rick said despite being muffled between you and Harley. You let Harley go so she could take a step back, and the two of you just grinned down at Rick for a moment. Then Rick just had to ask, “So what’d we miss?”
As the whole team walked through the ruined city, Bloodsport caught them up with a few colorful additions from Harley. It sounded like you’d missed one hell of a fight, but you were completely okay with that. You’d take saving Rick’s life over fighting a giant starfish any day. Rick was angry about Bloodsport’s deal with Waller over the drive, you understood after hearing what was on it, but he relented. Rick wasn’t prepared for a fight, not now, and you could tell that he wanted this team to be free. They were criminals, yes, but who wasn’t these days? You would miss Harley, but she always managed to find her way back into Belle Reve eventually. Surprisingly, you thought that you would miss Bloodsport and Ratcatcher as well. Robert and Cleo. They had survived a mission, so you could use their names now.
When the chopper came, Rick turned his head and grinned up at you because you were still somewhat carrying him in your arms. It was like the end of a movie where the hero carries the damsel to safety; except, in this movie, the hero was actually a criminal and the damsel was downright lethal. Close enough to a perfect movie ending. You got onto the chopper and got Rick stretched out, but you were at a loss with what to do from there. Thankfully, Robert—Call me Dubois—knew exactly what to do. While you held Rick’s hands and Harley sat on his legs, Dubois stitched him with a first aid kit they found on the chopper. Cleo talked to keep them all distracted, and it wasn’t long at all before Rick was completely patched up and not bleeding through his makeshift bandages anymore. Once his blood finally stopped leaking, you felt yourself take your first full breath.
“Alright! Lower it down!” Dubois called out. You’d taken over Harley’s spot on Rick’s legs, sitting draped over his lap while he was laying down, and you watched as your team carefully got to their feet. The chopper was going to lower just enough to let them jump out, and you reached out to lace your fingers through Rick’s as Harley started jumping up and down to prepare herself.
“Sure you don’t wanna come with?” Harley asked while looking right at you.
“Both of you,” Dubois added with a pointed look at Rick. Waller wasn’t going to be happy with Rick for wanting to expose the information on the drive, but Rick was too valuable of an asset for her to get rid of him. As for you, you were going right back to a cell.
“Nah, I hear they’re gonna start Taco Tuesdays.” You smiled up at Harley and shrugged, and you watched her eyes brighten as she skipped over to you.
“That sounds fabulous!” Harley ducked down to wrap her arms around your shoulders, and you reached up with your free hand to lightly grip the back of her neck. “Maybe I’ll drop in for a bite,” was punctuated with a light nip against your jaw before Harley danced back.
“I’m sure we’ll run into each other again,” Rick was saying to Dubois as you accepted a quick hug from Cleo. You held up your fist for Dubois, grinned at the light tap, and you watched as the surviving members of your team jumped from the chopper. First Harley, Dubois with Cleo holding onto his arm, and Nanaue waved before jumping after them. Which left you and Rick alone on the chopper as it ascended.
Now that you were alone, that the mission was officially over, it felt like everything was crashing around you once again. You could feel your eyes starting to burn as breaths hiccoughed in your chest, and you couldn’t tell if you were actually shaking or if that was just the chopper around you. Rick instantly caught on, and he used the hold he had on your hand to first gently and then insistently pull you down. You were soon stretched out next to him, legs thrown over his but careful to keep pressure off his side and chest, and you leaned up enough to press your forehead against his. You had to use your free hand to wipe your falling tears from his face, and you could feel his hand holding the back of your neck to keep the two of you close.
“You almost died.” Your words came out like an accusation, like it was Rick’s fault that Peacemaker tried to kill him, and quick kisses were pressed against your cheeks as Rick tried to calm you.
“It’s okay, baby, I’m right here. Not goin’ anywhere,” he whispered against your lips. You leaned down to add to the pressure, to kiss him the way you had wanted to since finding out he was on the island, and Rick’s hand moved to tighten in your hair and hold you against him until you were both breathless. You pulled back with a quiet laugh, because only this man could kiss you until you were gasping after nearly being stabbed in the heart. You could see him smiling as well, and you dipped down to taste his wide grin before moving to kiss all the skin you could reach.
“I love you,” you whispered against the strong pulse in his throat. You could feel the beat against your lips, proof that he was still alive, and lips brushed against your temple as fingers moved down the back of your neck.
“I love you, Y/N,” he breathed against your skin.
You still didn’t know everything that had happened during the mission, and you didn’t care at the moment. You didn’t even care that you were on your way back to prison, because you knew that there would be more moments like this. Moments that were better than this. The two of you, alive and together.