Chapter Text
Pavement hits my soles as I wrestle through the airport crowds. More people are going out than going in, but it still feels like nobody's really moving. Somehow. It roots me to the spot, moonlight filtering through cement buildings and catching me at my worst. At least, I'm not too motion-sick.
But the nausea of the situation doesn't just end there. It comes from the police car sliding into view, squeezed right between two big trucks. A reminder of my role in the world, and fucking me right over with the casting.
With a sigh, I wheel my luggage to my side. Then, the door opens, with a girl springing out of the passenger seat.
"Y/N!" My cousin calls out, grinning from ear-to-ear. Her beard stretches with the smile, and it tickles my face as she instantly pulls me in for a tight hug.
I squirm, grumbling, "Invader. Remember what I said about personal space?"
"Uh…" Invader immediately deflates, pulling back only slightly. "That I can't hug you?"
"Not unless you ask in advance." I correct her. "Now, are you gonna take my bag, or what?"
Her energy returns, and she puts her hands on her hips. "I'm not a bell-boy! But… yeah, I guess. You do look pretty exhausted."
"I'll take offense when I have enough energy to."
I hand her the bag, before slotting myself in the back-seat. Invader busies herself with the trunk, and it gives me a chance to meet my uncle's eyes. He's been staring at me this whole time, but I just now return the gaze in the rearview mirror.
I wait, but he doesn't say anything. He's usually chipper, but of course, the circumstances of my intrusion renders him awkward. It feels weird, having to handhold a grown man in conversation, but it's nothing new in my life. Adults come and go, but their incompetence remains consistent.
Well, at least my uncle doesn't try to pretend otherwise. He knows I've got eyes for it.
"Hey, Paul." I say at last. "Been a while, huh?"
His hands tighten around the wheel. I see his forehead crinkle with aging, eyebrows knitting together in inquisition. "Definitely. You're, uh, much taller than I remember."
"Well, I am a senior now." I laugh a little, trying to lighten the mood.
He seems thankful for it, but only really relaxes once his daughter appears next to me. She's already comfy in the seat behind her dad, with her original spot abandoned.
"Why aren't you buckled, Y/N? Safety protocol!" She lectures, like I wasn't always the one reeling her in at family reunions.
Nevertheless, I oblige with an eye-roll. "Sorry."
"Sorries aren't gonna cut it these days. If you wanna roll with me, you've gotta be cool." Invader replies. Then, she buckles herself up, while looking at Paul through the rearview mirror. "Right, dad?"
"Absolutely! Because nothing's cooler than being a Blart and practicing road safety." He says. Invader nods in agreement, and they share a high-five over his shoulder.
I had forgotten how close Invader was with her dad, and the sight was almost strange to witness. I suppose that I'll be the weird one though, showing up to a new school right before the finish-line. Ugh. The thought makes me sink into my seat, head leaned up against the leather seatbelt.
My eyes squeeze shut.
"But, Y/N, we really are glad to have you with us." Paul talks, and I then feel the car start to move. The sound of rubble kicking up behind tires is much more pleasing than his voice, but it's louder all the same. "Even considering the situation."
Invader's hand rests on my shoulder, and she talks next. "Yeah! And, it's gonna suck for a bit, but it'll be fun to hang out again. So, maybe, it'll be worth it?"
"Invader, what'd I say?" I murmur.
Her hand retracts instantly, "oh, sorry! Buuuut, I should ask how you feel about sleepovers, since we are going to be sharing a room…"
My eyes open, and I look over at my cousin. Despite it having been 10 years since we've spoken, she still acts like the girl I remember. Really, the only difference seems to be that she's hairier in the facial region now.
I can't decide if it's a good thing or not, though. How much have I changed? Would I want that change, in the first place?
Amidst memories of debris and gunfire, I can only wring out the vague shadow of a child who once chased Invader through the playground—a child who, at the time, still thought that their uncle truly was a superhero.
Tough luck, though. At the end of the day, heroes weren't real, and I was sitting in the car with a former movie-star, a talkative teenage girl, and someone named Y/N who just lost their parents in a fucking murder.
We were pulling into a McCrab's drive-through when I finally respond:
"As long as you're quiet, then I can sleep."