capeandcowllogs | some say you're troubled, boy

Entry tags:

some say you're troubled, boy

WHO: THE SENTRY, THE VOID, and THE MIDNIGHTER
WHERE: Around the City.
WHEN: Sunday evening
WARNINGS: UHHH. Probably. Not much?
SUMMARY: On one of Bob's excursions, he runs into a friend.
FORMAT: Whatever!

Each night now, it seemed, Bob lost several hours. He didn't always notice it; sometimes he would be standing in front of the door, staring at it, then suddenly it was much later than he had realized, or suddenly he was across the hall or even in the laboratory without remembering moving. There was simply black space where the time had gone in his thoughts, no recollection.

It reminded him of darker days, the days when the Sentry and the Void were separate beings and he couldn't predict what the Void would do to sabotage him. But had they ever been? Where they any different now than they used to be?

Now he was flying, not to anywhere in particular. He skulked around the streets as if he were patrolling them, a bright shining caped beacon with ichor-black eyes.

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Midnighter was in the middle of walking away from the man whose ribs he'd broken when a quick glance upwards gave him pause.

A cursory look over his shoulder told him the guy - a drug dealer he'd seen selling to fucking kids - had been rendered unconscious, so he stepped away from the alley, stuck to fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly to get the Sentry's attention.

He hadn't seen Bob since his last Network post. Which had been. A tad worrying? Admittedly, he'd been busy with the arrival of his husband and the shape shifting alien invasion, but tonight was fairly slow, so.. "Sentry?"

The whistle caught his attention, and Bob whisked over to Midnighter in seconds, light fanning off of him. He smiled amiably.

"Midnighter. You're looking well. Is he still alive?"

He glanced over Midnighter's shoulder at the unconscious man in the alley, looking at him calmly.

Oh, that's different. The Midnighter maintains a poker face (made easier by the cowl covering half his face), but he watches the Sentry for just a second too long before replying.

"Yeah, this time." He collapses the staff he'd been using into the three separate pieces that he can tuck into the inside of his trench coat, and he finally looks away from Bob as he does so. Idly: "Why?"

"Oh, just wondering. I was going to offer my help if he was giving you problems."

He turned and smiled, again, a touch vacantly, before he arches his eyebrow to analyze Midnighter's expression. Bob squared his shoulders back, standing confidently and letting his glow flicker out abruptly, though his bright costume still made sure he was extremely visible.

"Because you called me over for something, right?"

Midnighter is fairly sure this isn't a Skrull thing; if it is, Ghost has vastly oversold their ability to blend in and fool anybody.

He tucks his hands in his coat pockets, frowning a bit now. The confidence is new, more like Apollo than he had been before, in that aspect. He hadn't figured Bob for the sort to be okay with killing, in as much as most of the heroes here don't appear to be. Not that it stopped him. "Just wanted to talk."

He should probably run through the futures to see how he can kill Bob if he needs to at this rate, but sentimentality is a bitch sometimes. Maybe he's just having an off day.

"Missed me? I have been busy these last few days," he said, sliding a hand through his hair. "I'd barely have any time to get some fresh air if I didn't stretch my legs between shifts. You know, skrull-watch. Dull as dirt but someone has to do it."

He looked at Midnighter, eyes fading from their solid black to Bob's normal blue, although there was certainly none of the same energy in the way he looked at him. They were very bright, and cold.

"Speaking of, how's the hubby doing?"

Oh. Why does Midnighter find bastards so attractive? He grunts at the first part, exhaling after a Bob's done tossing his hair. Something is clearly, obviously wrong, but Midnighter's not sure what to do with that info yet. So he keeps talking. "I heard that motherfucker was technopathic. Why doesn't he watch it his own damn self?" Yeah, Ghost tells him all the things.

He pulls a hand out of his pocket to gesture for Bob to follow him if he wants; they probably shouldn't stick around the alley if the police come by. He just heads further up the street. Also, conveniently, it'll stop him from ogling the man and make him look where he's walking.

"Apollo is settling in." And he's going on dates with Bond, ugh. "You're in an interesting mood tonight."

Bob does follow, tossing his hair again. It was nice, he thought inwardly -- being out. Seeing the world, the City through Bob's eyes. Well, it was only fair. He was Bob... part of him was. This belonged to him. It was so good to get to stretch his legs and give Bobby a bit of a break.

"Maybe I am," he said thoughtfully. "I haven't felt this good in ages. And I don't hold it against Iron Man. I'm sure he's just trying to keep me useful."

He needed it, after all. A break. Years ago the Sentry could walk with the sort of confidence he was walking with now, straight-backed and purposeful instead of sullenly stalking around. The Void always knew what was best for Bob -- he loved him so. His chest tingled with a mild streak of possessiveness as he watched the Midnighter walk.

"He seems nice. Meeting him sure was an interesting surprise."

"Well, that's good." Probably. Maybe. (Okay probably not.) "Skillset like yours, and the best he can come up with is 'standing in a room with an already dead body'?" Spoilers Midnighter is just bitter because Tony swooped in and took the body right out from under his nose.

"I did tell you that you had the same abilities as someone I knew." Never mind very similar aesthetic and how awkward it is that he never mentioned that guy was his husband. Honestly though, there was really no way to get that out in a conversation more than thirty seconds after it started without sounding like the worst kind of creep. "He said he saw you when he went to see the alien."

"I'm not supposed to throw things into the sun anymore," he said slowly, a little facetiously. "Or we could flush out some of the pretenders in our midst. There must be more than a few already. They tried to use me, back home. Send me into space so that I couldn't stop them. They deserve a little fear."

Shape-shifted into him, specifically -- into the Void. He cracked his knuckles again, almost wary before he responded again. The possessiveness is there again, apprehensive and not entirely purposeful. "He did. It's almost like looking into a mirror -- he's interesting."

"These the same ones? From your Universe, I mean. Do they remember it?" Not that he has a problem with scaring skrulls, be they personally guilty or not, but it's something he'd never thought to ask Ghost.

He glances back at Sentry, when he hears the shift in tone, then forward again. He shrugs a bit, for show, trying to puzzle the situation out as he talks. When he saw Bob's entry, this isn't exactly what he'd pictured pictured. "Yeah, it's fucking uncanny. You should get to know him, though." They're only now starting to look similar in personality, which helped some (some) before. "I know he wouldn't mind." He'd said Bob seemed nice, after all, and Midnighter is still having a hard time imagining that he gets particularly mean, even with this more confident... mood.

Which probably says something about how he feels about invading aliens and how they should be treated.

"Who knows. I think I'll ask them if I find one," Bob said, fully intending to fly one out into space and rip it in two, instead. If it worked with Carnage, it would work with skrulls. It didn't even have to be a skrull to make him feel better, but the Void wasn't out for destruction just yet. He wanted to get a feel for the City, wander it like a dog outside without its leash for the first time. For the Sentry's friends. Everything the Sentry had done here up to now, before he could determine just how to unwind it. Attacking Russia had been months ago, only a blip on his consciousness by now. The Sentry had done more since then that would be balanced out in blood.

Every word was golden on his tongue, every pronoun. I, me, my, nothing of his, he, him. In time, maybe -- when the leash had to tighten again.

"I wouldn't mind. We'll be a regular threesome, I bet," he said cheekily, choosing his words with casual deliberation. "Most of my other friends are a little scared of me."

"Let me know." He's not even sure how it'll help, but that's not important here.

What's important is that he doesn't suddenly choke on his own tongue. Honestly, it's harder than it sounds, and his shoulders go stiff with the effort as he clamps down on the urge to whip his head around and stare at the man. There's just no way that wasn't on purpose.

He forces out a wry laugh instead of thinking too hard on it. For now. "Why's that?" He's noticed, the awkward way Bob seems to interact with his team, on his Network posts. Personally, the Midnighter realizes it would take a lot of effort and a lot of pain to be able to take down someone like the Sentry, but he's not afraid of the man.

Bob's smile sharpened and he looked at Midnighter, studying his facial expressions. It was difficult not to chuckle to himself, but he said nothing more on that particular front. He'd wait until it got brought again, if it did.

"I'll be sure to let you know," he said. "They think that I'll lose control. Can't imagine why -- maybe they're intimidated by my power."

He knew it was true, in a way. Intimidated, jealous, afraid. He couldn't blame them, but they just didn't understand.

"Is that what's happening here, Bob?" He doesn't seem particularly out of control - more in control, if anything - but Midnighter doesn't exactly have much to go on, here.

He finally turns to really look at the Sentry again, as he walks. Everything's off; the set of his mouth, the look in his eyes. Midnighter lips his bottom lip before he can think about it. His pace picks up when sirens sound in the distance.

"You have been different, lately."

"Have I been? It's nice to know you've been paying attention." His eyes glazed over again for a moment. "I'm in complete control. For the first time in a long time."

Something in his mouth tightened for a moment, there was another flicker in his eyes, but Bob turned his head toward the sound of the sirens and it was as it had been.

"Should we get that?"

"You look zoned out," Midnighter points out, reaching up to rub at his jaw with his thumb. Where had this even come from? Stress, from the Skrull thing? As much as he switches between deciding that getting to know Bob is a good thing or a really unhealthy one, Midnighter doesn't actually know him that well.

He exhales, long and quiet. While he's not a big fan of the Government or Law Enforcement, he usually doesn't go out of his way to kill the police. "Don't bother. He's still got the drugs on him, they'll be busy with that." Probably (hopefully.)

"That's because--"

Bob's eyes flickered again and for a minute he did appear to zone out, staring forward expressionlessly. No! whispered the Void in his head, but it was quieter. Bob, likewise, did not know Midnighter very well other than the fact he was a good listener and good company, with a husband who bore an eerie resemblance to himself. They weren't afraid of him, were they, they never talked to him like they were tiptoeing around some greater unspeakable secret, like they were walking on eggshells, like he needed protecting from... well.

But then, they only barely knew him. Bob stopped walking, clutching his head and gasping in a breath. Sirens pierced his hearing, sudden and shrill.

Where was he?

"Where am -- Midnighter?"

Midnighter automatically reaches forward, when the Sentry clutches at his head. He puts a hand on the man's shoulder, an attempt to steady him as he gasps for breath. The sirens are a tad worrying, though; they are far enough away so as not to be immediately suspicious, but they shouldn't stick around for too long.

"What?" A beat. He's asking where he is? Midnighter's first, knee-jerk reflexive guess is multiple personality disorder; it would explain the quick shift in behavior, but he's certainly not a doctor.

And he hardly knows the man at all.

He steps closer, gruff but more quietly, mulling the details over in his head: "Bob, what the hell is going on with you?"

Oh, no. Bob looked at Midnighter a little hopelessly, trying to read on his face to get an idea of what was happening -- or had just happened. It was beyond an embarrassment, but that was a part of it. Everyone was afraid of him sooner or later, the Void always took them away.

If it was the Void. Bob was still clinging to the vain hope that he wasn't here with him, he was still out in the sun back home and not attached to the inside of Bob's head.

"I-- sorry, I just didn't recognize this part of town for a moment," he said, still holding his head and smiling a little guiltily. "I guess I haven't been paying attention to where we were going."

Midnighter's mouth opens and closes, and his brows furrow. He finds that just a tad difficult to believe, but he just sets his jaw and uses his grip on Bob's shoulder to tug him towards a shadowed alleyway while he's still gobsmacked.

The Sentry's bright costume isn't the best for hiding inconspicuously in the shadows, true, but it's better than just standing around in the open street. The lights and shrill siren of an ambulance bounce off the walls on either side of them too loudly for speaking, but only for a few seconds before it passes by, which is good because the Midnighter needed the time to think.

He has never been particularly great with words, so he tends to put things bluntly when he cares to put them at all: "I can hear your heart rate increase when you lie."

Bob's expression didn't change except his eyebrows furrowed and his lips tightened just slightly. He followed Midnighter's lead into the alley easily, letting his cape swish behind him and refusing, for a moment, to meet his gaze. The siren's blare was still shrill to his sensitive ears but he tuned it out, with effort.

"What do you want me to say, Midnighter?" He said, finally.

Midnighter studies him for a few seconds. This body language is more like he'd come to expect from Bob. He stuffs his hands back in his pockets to still them.

He can tell the Sentry really doesn't want to be pushed on this, but the whole thing has been way too weird to just let it go. The Midnighter pauses as well, but decides (as he usually does) that there's no point in beating around the bush.

"Christ, Bob. You asked me to fucking kill you if I had to the other day, the least you can do is fill me in on what the hell is happening to you." If he didn't have at least some idea, he wouldn't have tried to cover it up.

Bob evaded Midnighter's gaze again, frowning at some distant point in the darkness. No, he thought again. Why now, why him, why-- why couldn't it ever be simple? Why couldn't he have a little peace? He remembered, vaguely, when he and the Hulk had still been friends and the Void had ruined that, too. I hate him because you love him, the Void had said. Bob wondered, now, if...

No, he knew. This was dangerous. He had gotten too comfortable and he was being punished for it.

He looked at Midnighter sharply, the golden glow around his body flickering into life again.

"Can you figure it out, if you have to? How to kill me?" He clenched his fists at his sides. "It's me, I can't-- a-a part of me, he's here. He followed me here and I'm not sure I can kill him this time."

"You might not want to-" he gestured vaguely towards Bob's glow, keeping one eye on the lip of the alleyway, but honestly it's reassuring to see again.

Midnighter exhales slowly. "I can, yeah." A pause. Bob hadn't seemed to buy it last time; Midnighter never knew how much he'd miss his reputation until he was tossed somewhere without it. "That's more or less my power." Plus, Apollo is never more than a call away.

"And that's what... that was? A part of you?" This is all sounding really existential and more the Doctor's area than his own, but he's trying.

With a mild exhale, Bob's glow faded out again, and the alley seemed the darker for its sudden absence. He didn't like the dark, particularly. You never knew what was inside it.

"Good," Bob said, his eyebrows furrowed more. "I don't know if you'll have to. Maybe. I've fought him-- it... I've done it before. It really..." He paused for a moment and sighed, shaking his head.

"It has nothing to do with skrulls. I-I don't think it does, but I don't know for sure. But it's gotten worse since the body turned up. I'm sorry," he added, finally. "I shouldn't get you involved. Shouldn't have."

Midnighter shifted half an inch closer, in the relative darkness. He had to wonder if Tony knew what effect the body would have on the Sentry when he gave him the job of standing around in a room with it for hours on end, but really he was just looking for more reasons to think of the man as a blowhard.

"Anything I can do?" Not that he figures he'd be able to help anybody fight a part of themselves, but whatever. Either way, he holds up a hand. "Don't worry about it, Bob. I can handle it." And he sounds sincere, in the same way that he's always been too much of an asshole to lie to spare anyone's feelings.

In any event, the sirens have quieted, but Midnighter can hear that the police have begun fanning out to search for suspects or witnesses. He'd been planning to be a couple dozen blocks away by now, but as usual seeing Bob derailed his brain for awhile. He snorts at himself, before gesturing back the way we'd come. "Well, this isn't my finest moment." A beat. "Don't suppose I can get a lift out of here?"

"I don't know. I don't know if there's anything anyone can do -- even... well... he's-- if the Sentry can't handle him, I don't know who can. He destroys everything he touches, he undoes everything that I do, hurts anyone that I love. Anyone."

Bob flicked his gaze downward for a moment, before he turns his attention to the sounds of the police, their voices murmuring. He was grateful, honestly, for the momentary distraction. "Yeah. Hold onto me," he said, wrapping a strong arm around Midnighter's waist and scooping his legs up, bridal-style. "Unless you'd rather get on my back."

He was going to comment, really. He's always been arrogant, born of always - always - being able to beat the long odds, so he's still not afraid of whatever threat Bob possesses. It's not that he thinks it's in any way a minor thing, someone with the Sentry's powerset going out of control, he just knows his limits, and those of his team, if he needs to call them in. He was well on his way to working out how, exactly, to say that, but-

"Uh," is suddenly all he's got to offer, one hand flying up to grip the cape on Bob's back. Welp. He'd expected the usual flyer pit-grab, which is only slightly less dignified than this, so he just kind of. Grunts. And decides not to make any comment whatsoever about getting on Bob's back. He clears his throat awkwardly. "No, this is fine, let's just.." He gestures upwards with his free hand.

And decidedly doesn't think about what usually happens after Apollo spontaneously picks him up like this and carts him off somewhere.

"Are you sure? If you're not comfortable it's no trouble," Bob offered again, although he was lifting his feet off the ground already. They could always reposition somewhere else, best to get out of here as quick as possible, it seemed. His cape makes a flapping sound like giant wings might as he launches them into the air, speeding up miles in seconds.

He slowed down once they reached a comfortable altitude.

"Where are we going?" He asked, deciding to let the subject of the Void -- or whatever -- drop for as long as Midnighter did. The thought brought a clenched, plunging sensation to his chest.

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some say you're troubled, boy

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