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It’s hard to believe you were here, after all this time.
Here was outside of a shockingly quaint little home that didn’t look at all on the verge of collapse or in any kind of derelict. No fire, no blackened soot in the yard. It was snowing, but the setting lacked coldness. This wasn’t home to you , the name on the mailbox completely foreign.
Slowly, you pace up the driveway, trepidation thrumming in your throat. Here, a place that held no real significance to you until this moment. With them, it wasn’t ever about … places. You’d known them in wet sleet, in damp sewers and magnificent manors, in scalding desertscapes and frigid industrial complexes… nowhere one would choose to willingly travel to without the added benefit of some… very good company.
You toe at the small raised platform, the final step before the final step. This was a nice house. Sounds of mischief and shrill laughter escaped even through the thick window panes, filling your chest with cotton, your throat with syrup. How many laughs have we shared together, old friends? Hopefully more than anger, or tears. There have been lots of those, too. When you know someone, some people , for so long, it makes being apart ache more. Was there anything scarier than feeling disconnected from someone you loved so much?
Vehicles of all kinds crowded the street, completely overwhelming the quaint suburb with reminders of its ragtag guests of honor. I missed you for so long, and you just… drop this in my lap?! After all this time? Your nostrils burned, feeling embarrassed, like a petulant child. You’d wanted this, hell, something, anything, for so long, it suddenly felt like you’d been spoiled now that you had it. Maybe they’d even known you when you were so immature, and knew you even now, well into adulthood.
You could recall precisely how you felt when you saw them for the first time. The one that made your chest flutter, that made you laugh. The one you identified with, or the one you’d loved perhaps because you were nothing alike… everybody had a favorite. There was something about them that made you feel special. That welcomed inclusion, acceptance. It suddenly felt like you weren’t supposed to be here. You weren't ready. Just this morning, the idea of this whole thing would have made you laugh. But here you were.
You’d white-knuckled your way here, survived for so long, and all that was left to do was ring the bell. Knock . You deserved to be here, just as much as anyone else. Pulled from your job, your studies, your life… excitement simmered into anxious nerves. You’d known them all for such a long time. Or maybe this was your grand introduction, your sweet beginning. How long had it been, really? Maybe it was complicated, maybe it didn't matter at all... but this was the end of something , you knew. Knocking meant initiating what you’d been waiting all this time for. Your wrist bent, arm slightly moving to pound gently against the thick wooden door-
"Oh hey, it's you! Get in here, you big dummy."
The door flung open, and you felt yourself urged over the threshold before you could contemplate just what it meant to proceed. A gust of warmth overswept you, and you swore you should have said something like Sorry I’m late, or I hope I haven’t kept you waiting, when really, it was them who’d kept you waiting for so long, wasn’t it?! You must have said something, some meek apology or reason for being responsible for the last vehicle that could fit on the street.
"Nah, we're just startin'. I even saved ya a seat."
You’d instantly forgiven them. Your cheeks burned hot with embarrassment. A rough clap on the back - he still had a hell of a swing! - and a man-boy-ish smile. It hadn’t felt like any time at all. Such worthless sentiment. It felt like you’d met him just yesterday. How long had it been again?
Excitement collided hot with the prickling at your spine like a hammer at a forge.
Me? I’m not even really supposed to be here, am I?
A thunderous laugh sounded down the hallway, bottles popping and the shuffling of plates, mischievous laughter and the metallic shing! of some kind of probably situationally inappropriate blade being prepped for use. You’d seen the vehicles outside, the coats by the door. The house felt lived in (how many child stockings had been on the mantle? You didn’t get a chance to count), like a home. It hadn’t surprised you. They had the uncanny ability to make even that hideous base in New Mexico feel like home. Or if you’d known somewhere worse, maybe they’d made that feel like home, too.
Shadows of familiar silhouettes stretched down the hallway, as if to prematurely greet you. Why were you nervous? You knew them. Maybe you even felt like you’d known them better than anyone else. Why did it feel so-
An uncharacteristically firm hand clasped your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks before anyone else caught sight of you. Seeing Scout - no, Jeremy Willis… ha! No, definitely still Scout - look as sentimental as you felt made you much too aware of the anticipation weighing down your legs and buzzing at the back of your neck. He gave a sheepish chuckle, like he knew. Maybe he did. He was Spy’s son, after all. Here’s to hoping some of that intuition rubbed off on him after all this time.
"Y'know... I'm real glad you could make it."
Your chest puffed out in a breath your lungs couldn’t afford. Suddenly, all of the blood in your body sat heavily below your knees. Your throat felt tight, like an overstuffed toy. I am too. I’m so glad I’m here, you wanted to say. You have no idea how hard it’s been for me to get here, where I’m so glad I am now. You’re thankful this was happening in the hallway and not in front of everyone, even if you maybe wouldn’t have imagined wanting to open up to Scout, of all mercenaries.
"We've been through a lot, you and us. And I..." He paused, putting his hands on his hips, a wry grin on his mouth. Chest puffed out, he let out a quiet huff through his mouth, as if he was embarrassed too. It felt good that neither of you were particularly good at this. Then again, you’d never loved any of them for being the best. Only the sincerest. You’d all fought like hell to be here, even if they’d done it in a more endearing way than you had. This moment made getting out of bed this morning worth it for you. A foolish part of you had hoped they’d felt the same. Had they really been just as excited to see you, as you were them?
Breathing finally began to come easier to you.
"Well, it's good to know you stuck around, after everything we've been through." Ha! You sputtered the sound, the warmth from the home beginning to get to you. Nose running, eyes watering, heart palpitating… all of the human markers of raw, ugly sentiment. How many times had you felt these feelings with them, during all of this time apart? It hadn’t felt like you were apart at all. You’d taken them with you everywhere; in a memory, in a joke between friends. Immortalized them by sharing a name, a hairstyle, or a piece of clothing. Honored them with little homemade talismans that you’d fondly rub your thumb over and hold close to your heart, precisely where they had so effortlessly touched you in return.
It would take decades to say everything, longer still to feel it. How do you show love to something that is just as much of you as your blood and bones? All you could muster was a deep, even breath and a quick swipe at your eyes. They’d invited you here, to share this with them. Just like the jungle, the mountains, the mines… This was home to you now, too. You felt complete, included. Thoroughly welcomed. You both took a step forward.
"Alright,” Jeremy chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, “c'mon, let's eat before this gets embarrassin'.” A gesture with his hands urging you forward still. Like a hug. Embraces could sometimes be without touch at all. “Miss Pauling bought us a turkey!” The excited noise simmered down in anticipation for your arrival. Who was here? They all craned their necks to look. “But just remember…” Scout lilted, his smile betraying the warning tone.
When you stepped into the warm yellow light of the minute dining room, its inhabitants let out a warm sigh, relieved smiles lighting up each and every varied feature on the group of mercenaries that you had come to cherish. Hello, old friend... There was no fanfare - thank God - only a few excited hollers and giddy claps, glasses raised at you with wry winks and smirks. … I’m so glad you’re here.
“We couldn't have done any of this without you."