Chapter Text
That fateful Candlenights, the scientist Lucas Miller had found himself shivering at the doorstep of his old home, where prior to the Bureau, he had lived his entire life with his mother. He stood, keyring around a finger, and hand gripping at the handle of a smallish cart carrying some things from his lab that he brought with him.
Lucas had to admit, he really missed the place. Not even mentioning all the memories this house contained, his old bedroom was considerably larger than his private quarters in the lab. Even though it was convenient to live inside of his laboratory, his room there was far too small. His disorganized self filled it up with books, assorted papers, and trash, much too quickly, and he still only had as much space as he did due to his lofted bed (and Lucas, of course, made it everyone’s problem).
It was a while before he finally turned the key in the familiar lock. The scientist was exhausted, cold. Somewhat frazzled and recovering, both mentally and physically, and he wanted nothing more than to just collapse in his bed and sleep for days. He was sore all over from the life-threatening injuries he sustained hours prior, and from dragging specially chosen belongings of four years from his life to Upsy from the lab, and from Upsy to his front door.
“Jesus-!” Lucas muttered, coughing as he opened the door. There was dust everywhere , and it practically jumped out at him when he stepped foot inside, being suddenly disturbed after collecting across every surface inside over the span of half a decade. Once he could finally clear his throat, he looked around, feeling a deep, punching pain in his gut. Everything was exactly the same as how they left it. Blue couch and chairs on an oddly-patterned rug Maureen found in some thrift shop, a few empty vases and plant-less pots scattered around, glass coffee table, the tall bookcase with clear favorites gone, taken to the sky with them.
Everything was the same, except it was just him this time. And from now on, it was always going to be.
A heavy, sad feeling washed over him as he locked the door behind him and trudged through the dark to his old bedroom, leaving the belongings he brought behind in the living room. He was far too tired to deal with putting everything away and gods, he’d really do anything for some sleep right now.
Lucas opened this door a little slower this time, not wanting to cause another coughing fit from how ridiculously dusty it was. He instinctively rolled his eyes and huffed after realizing he was going to have to clean the dust off his bed to be able to comfortably lay down, but honestly? He was used to sweeping crumbs from his bedsheets nightly anyway. Familiar sounds of fabric being dusted off and beaten filled the room for a minute, and soon the bleached-blond was carefully curled up in his comforter, not even having bothered to change his clothes, finally drifting off to sleep much easier than he usually did.
~~~
He was startled awake from a nightmare a few hours later. Some awful mix about his mother and Legion, Lucretia and the Reclaimers, but especially Magnus Burnsides.
Lucas had no idea what to think of Magnus.
Of course, he found him attractive. He's almost exactly his type. Lucas even (stupidly) tried to flirt with him back in his lab a few times, but obviously nothing came out of it. Maybe he would’ve had some chance if the fate of the entire world wasn’t on the line at the moment, and especially if he didn’t fuck everything up with them near the end there. But that’s besides the point. Magnus Burnsides could be scary as hell, and Lucas knew that threat about “killing him if he ever saw him again” probably wasn’t empty. Hopefully it was, though. On that off chance they'd actually cross paths.
The scientist was now clutching at his pillow with the hand not already lightly gripping his side, pressing his freckled face into the soft material. His mind kept bringing him back to when the fighter had him scruffed, lifted an entire foot off the ground, yelling at him. If they didn’t have the helmets of their null suits in the way, Lucas was sure they’d definitely have been forehead to forehead. He thought for a moment. Would it be weird to find it kind of hot? Not the whole serious, completely deserved confrontation thing- the ‘easily picked up by the scruff of his neck by a big, strong man with big, strong arms’ thing. It had to be weird at least to some degree, he thought to himself with a slight frown.
Good thing he didn't know anybody anymore to accidentally babble about it to.
That’ s right, he realized. Everyone he talked to in the past few years was in the Bureau of Balance. He never processed how painfully lonely he was until now. Lucas had always at least had his mom. The two were incredibly close, and he was practically glued to her growing up. He used to start forming tears if she was even two rooms away, until he was like, ten. But now, with Maureen gone and him having fled, he didn’t have anybody.
Lucas groaned to himself. Almost 27 years old and he doesn’t know a single person anymore. Gods, why was he so pathetic?
He rolled over and desperately tried to get back to sleep before any more thoughts could attack his brain. He was done thinking for the night, he decided.