Chapter Text
It was a warm Friday afternoon at Upstate University, the kind that made the world feel almost normal again. A gentle breeze pushed through the cracked dorm window, carrying in the scent of freshly cut grass and some far-off student’s aggressively burnt microwave popcorn.
Inside the modest dorm room that Rick and William shared, the lights were low, a playlist of mellow indie tracks hummed from a speaker on the shelf, and textbooks were closed for once.
William was stretched out across Rick’s lap on their bed, absentmindedly thumbing through his phone while Rick ran a hand lazily through his boyfriend’s hair. For a moment, the world outside didn’t matter—no G.D.A., no missions, no cyborg nightmares or alternate dimension tyrants. Just two college students enjoying some long-overdue peace.
“You know,” William said with a smirk, “sometimes I forget I’m dating Recon. The blonde, broody, tragic backstory superhero. You’re like a comic book come to life.”
Rick raised a brow. “Broody? I’m not broody.”
William grinned up at him. “You totally are. All dark and mysterious and strong-jawed. D.A. Sinclair wasn’t wrong when he called you—what was it—‘impressive,’ ‘assertive,’ and a ‘typical alpha male’?”
Rick groaned, hiding his face with his hand. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.”
“I told you to stop accepting compliments from mad scientists,” William said, poking him in the ribs. “That’s like, red flag 101.”
Rick laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing. “What was I supposed to do? I was strapped to a table and he was monologuing about my ‘perfect musculature’ like I was a steak he was about to marinate.”
William grinned. “You are kinda built like a steak. A really hot steak.”
“You’re such a nerd,” Rick said, shaking his head—but he was smiling now. “Pre-med and everything.”
“I’ll have you know,” William said, sitting up, “this nerd’s going to be a doctor someday. And when I’m patching you up after you jump in front of another collapsing building, you’ll be glad you dated a pre-med student.”
Rick leaned in, wrapping his arms around William’s waist. “I already am.”
There was a pause. Their foreheads touched. The heat between them was soft, tender—electric in its own quiet way.
“I want you to be my husband someday,” Rick said, voice low but certain.
William blinked. “Wow. That’s… romantic. And a little fast. We’re still in college.”
“Not now,” Rick said quickly, eyes steady. “Someday. Just—after everything. I need you to know that.”
William smiled, a hand resting against Rick’s cheek. “I kinda already did.”
Their lips met—gentle at first, then deeper, slower, like something familiar being rediscovered. Rick’s hands found the small of William’s back, and William responded in kind, pulling Rick close, tangled in sheets and sighs and something real.
It was the most intimate they’d been in a long time—since before the surgeries, the trauma, the nightmares. And it wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was patient. Needed.
Eventually, William leaned back, breathless and flushed. “Okay. Okay, we’re gonna be late for dinner if we keep this up.”
Rick chuckled. “We could be fashionably late.”
“Or we could actually make our reservation and eat something that doesn’t come out of a plastic tray for once,” William said, standing and tugging Rick’s hand.
Rick followed, still grinning. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Lucky?” William said, tossing Rick’s clean shirt at him. “I’m adorable. And you're my hot boyfriend. That’s what we call a win-win.”
Rick pulled the shirt on, then leaned in for one last kiss. “Date night?”
“Date night.”
They left the dorm, hand in hand, laughter echoing down the hallway.
Outside, the stars were just beginning to appear—silent witnesses to two survivors trying to live, love, and laugh again.
The campus of Upstate University was bathed in soft golden hues as the sun dipped lower behind the lecture halls. Rick and William wandered the path between the biology building and the old library, fingers brushing occasionally, both too relaxed to care who noticed. Their date wasn’t anything elaborate—some ice cream from the campus café and a stroll beneath fairy lights strung between trees—but after everything they’d been through, it felt perfect.
“I still can’t believe we got vanilla swirl,” William muttered, licking his cone. “You’re such a basic jock.”
Rick smirked. “Vanilla swirl is classic. And besides, I need a post-workout treat.”
“You haven’t even worked out today.”
Rick raised an eyebrow. “I carried you to bed last night after you passed out watching that medical documentary.”
“…Fair.”
They laughed, rounding the corner toward the campus quad, where a few late-night study groups were gathering under the lamps. The warmth of the moment was tangible—until it shattered.
Screams.
High-pitched, panicked, and coming from just across the lawn.
Rick’s instincts kicked in immediately. He tossed his cone into the trash and began scanning for the source. “Stay here,” he said quickly, already stepping into a jog.
“Like hell,” William said, pulling out his phone and following. “You think I’m just gonna sit here while something tries to eat students again?”
The crowd in the quad parted in terror as something large and hulking burst through the hedges. A massive humanoid figure stumbled forward, eyes glowing faintly, body pale and grotesquely muscular. Its flesh was mottled and stretched over augmented limbs that glinted with crude cybernetics.
Rick froze. His stomach dropped.
It was a ReAniman.
But not like the ones he'd helped the GDA rehabilitate. This one was… off. Not just the outdated implants or the raw, unfinished look—it resembled Doug Cheston in shape and size, but the features weren’t quite right. Like someone had tried to recreate Doug from memory. Or from fractured data.
It let out a deep, guttural growl, charging at a group of undergrads by the food trucks.
Rick barely had time to think.
“Suit up!” he shouted to no one in particular as he tapped the hidden latch on his belt. His Recon suit activated in a blink, wrapping across his frame like a second skin. “Get everyone clear!”
The fight was on.
The ReAniman lunged toward the students, but Rick intercepted it with a flying tackle, sending the two of them skidding across the brick pavement.
“Who the hell sent you?” Rick growled, dodging a swing that left a crater in the sidewalk.
The ReAniman didn’t answer. It couldn’t. Like Doug, it only grunted and howled—less a person and more a machine driven by muscle memory.
They traded blows. Rick felt the strength behind its punches—it wasn’t quite as strong as he was, but close. Too close for comfort.
“You’re a sloppy remake,” Rick spat, grappling the thing into a nearby fountain and using the water jets as a minor distraction. “Whoever made you clearly didn’t finish the download.”
The ReAniman lunged again, and Rick caught its arms, twisting behind it and putting it in a sleeper hold. It thrashed violently, but Rick’s years of GDA training—and his modified body—held.
“This is what I used to be like,” Rick muttered under his breath, sweat dripping. “You don’t get to be the monster now.”
He kept the pressure on, tightening his hold until the ReAniman slumped—unconscious or at least immobilized.
Breathing heavily, Rick glanced around. Campus security had arrived, uselessly waving stun batons from a distance. William was already on the phone.
“Donald’s on the way,” he called out. “GDA’s scrambling a team. They said to keep it contained.”
Rick nodded, looking down at the still form beneath him.
“Who are you?” he whispered to the thing that looked so much like the monster he once fought, the one who nearly tore his life apart.
But the ReAniman only growled faintly, unconscious but alive.
Rick didn’t notice the shimmer in the air above them—so faint it could’ve been heatwaves. And somewhere in another dimension, Angstrom Levy smirked.
Just a little test.