Chapter Text
"You're like a mirror, reflecting me
Takes one to know one, so take it from me
You've been lonely
You've been lonely, too long"
-Dust to Dust, The Civil Wars
Flynn Carsen doesn’t do plans. He never has, his brain is mostly just too scattered to even think of it. Because, and here’s the truth, something he’s never admitted -- even if he made a plan, he probably wouldn’t remember it. Not that he doesn’t have a photographic memory, because oh, he knows he does. It’s just with everything else stacked up in that filing cabinet of a mind, a plan is of so little importance to him.
(it’s that damn photographic memory that’s kept him sane all these years,
it’s the one thing that’s kept him grounded.
and it’s a constant reminder that no matter how much he’d like to forget at least half the things he’s seen,
he knows damn well that he can’t.
that’s not always comforting.)
But the fact is, when he’s running for his life, he’s focused on that. His mind works spur of the moment, and sometimes, he’s not sure that Eve understands that. Which, he supposes, is fine. He wasn’t raised like her, like a soldier. Plans had never been a part of his day-to-day life -- he just took things and dealt with them as they came. The same strategy applied to the Library. If he thought things through, if he planned things out...he wouldn’t know what to do when the whole situation went pear-shaped.
In fact, Flynn’s almost a hundred percent sure that the only reason he’s still alive is that he’s just lucky.
(of course, that’s not what he says.
no, he has the junior Librarians convinced that the reason he gives is that he’s ‘just that good.’
just that smart.
because anything to intimidate Ezekiel Jones, right?
who of course is barely impressed.
damn that kid.)
So, really, when the time comes that he realises that this thing with Eve is real, more real than anything, his first instinct is to blurt something out. Why waste time stressing over planning? Because he would. He would stress and stress and overthink and he already knows that if he overthinks it, he’ll chicken out. And he doesn’t want to. Because Eve is the realest real he’s ever known and above all else, he doesn’t want to lose her.
Because now that he has her, and as cheesy as he knows it sounds, he can’t imagine his own life without her.
So this is what he does. He makes a mental list. He buys a ring. Something classy. Something very Eve.
(that part was a spur-of-the-moment choice.
he just saw it and knew it was hers.
it had to be hers. no one else’s.
his original idea had been to use his mother’s engagement ring,
something he still kept with him.
it was one of the many items in an old, iron-wrought box that he kept in his apartment.
a box that only Eve herself had ever seen.)
Then he makes reservations at that fancy Italian place down the road from her apartment -- it’s the place he’d taken her after that mission with that rogue centaur, he knows, and it’s also the place where he had, eventually, told her that he loves her. So it’s sort of a place of firsts. And that’s sort of a big deal, because he’s never really had that. He’s never had a relationship with a woman that’s lasted as long as the relationship he’s had with Eve. And honestly, he’s just hoping against hope that it’s not too soon, that she needs more time, that...for some reason, that she’ll tell him no. That a proposal will screw up everything they’ve built together.
They’re all set to go to dinner, and Flynn can feel his nerves go all jittery, when the two of them are called into work. Cassandra and Stone have been captured by the deadly Scorpion League, and on the phone, Ezekiel sounds rightfully terrified. Flynn’s intimately familiar with what happens in their prisons, as he reminds Eve, given that he’s had to escape from them enough times. But the first time...well, there comes that sucky thing about having a photographic memory. The torture is just as vivid as ever, and when he flinches, Eve places a hand on his arm to soothe him. It helps, but it doesn’t erase it.
But it does help enough to assist with a plan, once the back door flashes white-blue and Ezekiel tumbles through, clothes filthy and face pale, eyes wide and scared. Flynn’s enthusiastic as ever as he recalls the prisons he knows about, though tactfully leaving out the part about torture. Because he knows Eve can take it, but Ezekiel’s far younger than Flynn had been. And despite what he says to the contrary, he does care about the youngest member of their ragtag team.
Eve’s impressed with him, he thinks, and once Jenkins dials up Cardiff, Wales, a confident smile comes to her face.
“Let’s get our Librarians back,” she tells him, and Flynn can’t help but feel energised. That’s one of the many things she did for him -- she breathed life back into him. She gave him strength when he had none, and hope when he had convinced himself that there was nothing to be done. Eve gave him a reason to continue on fighting, to never give up even when things seemed impossible and the odds were stacked against them.
He nods at her. “Okay.”