revivalproject | [Open] These Broken Pieces Of Life

WHO: Tommy Shepherd, Open
WHERE: Young Avengers HQ, The Diner, The Greenhouse, The Beach Cave Hot Springs
WHAT: Returning to Temba, Broken Down Home, Farming, Failing To Hide Emotional Pain.
WHEN: August 1st through 15th
WARNINGS: N/A

I. Another Ruined Home | Young Avengers HQ

Freedom. Sunlight. A sandwich made of greens and beautiful vegetables from the greenhouse. A meal that was doing nothing to make what was before him any better. Home, for the last several years... Broken.

"Fucking hell," he grumbled around his mouthful of baconroom wrap. "Because when it fucking rains..."

It fucking poured. The roof was busted open, the door fallen off, and he could already see through the opening that their shared living room space was fucked. And now Tommy had no choice but to hope that things would be fixable. That he could bring out the things that mattered until such time he could have his home and his life back.

"Fat chance that, with my luck."

II. Moving In Day | The Diner

It's only temporary, Tommy tells himself as he pushes into the Diner and puts the heavy box in his arms on the table. He's so tired after all of the work of cleaning the HQ out. Fuck, he just hadn't wanted to deal with that today.

"Tea," he decides, moving to the counter to fish out the kettle so he could fill it with water. Once he's got the thing full and his hand near it to start heating it, he looks to the door in the corner that he never really used. One of the two sets of stairs that led up into the apartment that was once Eli's. A space that hadn't been used in years.

"Home sweet home I guess. But damn, how am I supposed to get a new bed up the stairs? They're narrow!"

III. Whistle While You Work | The Greenhouse

Stressed? Frustrated by the turn of events? Need to feel accomplished in life? Have you ever considered Farming(tm)?!

Tommy groans at the voice running stupid infomercials in his head as he enters the greenhouse, grabs a basket with pruning sheers and gloves from the door, and looks around. The green, the smell of plants, the familiarity of this place... It's strangely soothing to Tommy. Like coming home. Perhaps it was, given no one had put as many years of care and attention into this place as he had.

And this? This was the place he remembers. Tommy immediately moves to the first area where he should have been harvesting already and sets into it. And he pauses only when he hears motion.

"Someone there?" he calls out, looking around. Strange. Not many people came here like he did.

IV. The Calm Is A Lie | Beach Caves Hot Spring

He didn't come here often. There was always the risk he'd turn the wrong way and end up in the crystal rich parts of the minds. Super charging his powers right now was not something Tommy was particularly keen on. It would only make all of this decidedly worse.

Caution was the watch word as he moved through the caves, hand on a wall, until he could hear the water and feel the heat. The springs. A place to soak sore muscles, and he'd been sore as hell since they'd headed underground. No amount of sauna could have helped with it. Now Tommy didn't hesitate for even a second to strip out of his clothes and slip into the almost too hot water.

"Fuck," he mumbled once he was settled into it. It felt so good. So freeing. So nice.

"Fuck," he repeated as he felt a sting in his eyes. It's just from the heat of the water. It's from how hot it is, turning his skin a little pinker. That's it. He's not crying. He's not crying.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Dustin scoffs - a gesture that might indicate he's offended, except the little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth betrays him.

"I can make you another one," he says. Then stiffens up. His face falls into a frown, brow furrowed, before he suddenly shakes his head and turns away. "--Whatever. If you don't want me up there, just--fucking forget I said anything."

"I don't want you getting hurt," Tommy says with a shake of his head. "You get that guys like me do this stupid thing like 'protect people' right?"

Obviously annoyed, Dustin waves a hand behind him to shoo Tommy's concerns away. "I'm not--I can take care of myself," he insists. "I have a suit. I'd end up doing more damage to the foundation than myself if I fell. That's not what I'm..."

He trails off, visibly deflating. The instinct to just walk away from this conversation is strong, to go curl up in some corner and brood by himself. But Tommy is a friend. Part of him desperately wants to talk about this, especially considering what it sounds like Tommy himself has been through lately.

"...I lied about the pot," he mumbles.

Oh, that suit is WAY TOO HEAVY to go up to the apartment before Tommy's tested the floors thanks.

"It's okay if you can't make pots. But you've gotta understand man. In my line of work back home my entire job is to make sure the rest of my team doesn't get hurt. And here, you're my team. Everyone else solves things, I do my best to keep people from falling through stuff or stuff from falling onto them, or them from getting shot."

Dustin huffs, snatches a small bundle of dried baconroom off the shelf, and twists far enough to roll his eyes somewhere that Tommy can see them.

"It's not about making the fucking pot for your hypothetical fucking--" He stops himself short, clamps his jaw shut and takes a quick breath through his nose. Frustration actually does a lot to help him get over the fact that he's about to spill his feelings all over the floor. "--I've lost everything. If you've gotta play your dumbass superhero thing, fine, I'll stay out of it, but I don't know--I've gotta do something. Gotta keep my hands busy. I'm going fucking insane. Throw me a goddamn bone."

Shit. Tommy sighs.

"Come on then. Let's go check it out."

Dustin opens his mouth to argue, only to realize that he doesn't need to.

"...Wait--wait really?"

"Yeah," he says, frowning and rubbing the back of his neck. "You're not the only one who lost a shit ton with this damage. So I get it. The need to be doing something."

He's here isn't he?

Equally bashful at having the obvious pointed out to him - that he's not the only one that deals with stress by keeping himself busy, and that Tommy is a perfect candidate for that sort of thing - Dustin looks away and, in a mirror, sticks a hand in his hair to massage his scalp.

"...Yeah," he mumbles.

An awkward moment passes.

"--Okay, well." Dustin abruptly straightens and strides towards the forbidden door that leads to the ruined upstairs. "Let's fucking go, then."

Yeah. Let's go. Tommy takes a deep breath and heads for the door, opening it. And of course he heads up first because he's still himself, he still wants to make sure it's safe.

They do hold him up and carry him up into a dusty old apartment.

"Huh. Seems like it came through pretty well."

At least Dustin doesn't argue against Tommy going up there first or anything. As much as he complained about being protected in this situation, Dustin recognizes the potential for danger, and in particular he recognizes that Tommy is much better equipped to deal with it than he is. Also, it's his place - he ought to have the run of it. So to speak.

The old stairs creak even under Dustin's meager weight, but he's not too concerned about them. They seem to be in pretty good condition based on how they held up to Tommy's ascent. It's the loft that has him more interested, poking his head into the space while his feet stay planted on the landing.

"All things considered..." His gaze sweeps around and he frowns. Too damn dark in here. New priority: Trying to check if the wiring works by turning on the lights.

The lights spring on and Tommy is already walking around the room carefully.

"Been so long since I've been up here. It feels so weird."

With the place properly illuminated, Dustin cautiously follows, testing each footfall before he puts his full weight on anything and listening for Tommy's own footsteps nearby.

"At least the power's on," he murmurs. Dustin drifts towards the wall, holding his hand out and hovering it near suspicious cracks to check for drafts. "When was the last time?"

"Shit, man..."

He has to think about it. Thrawn, had he poked a head up here when he'd come back? Did that count?

"About three and change years I think. It was Eli's place, like the diner was."

[Open] These Broken Pieces Of Life

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