[ The night of the quietly erased network implosion, Cassian made three phone calls after he got home with Jyn from the Mayor's. With a pen in one hand he began writing his 'mission report', both for BB-8 to read over and to keep with the other records currently living in the safe of Go Ask Alice.
(Little things. Snippets of information on people. Who they knew. Who they knew regardless of the town's collective memories. Notes on the ones Steve and Cassian had learned this or that about. Written in Galactic Standard. Written in code beyond that.)
Poe's number, dialed. No answer. Steve's, and there's a disconnected tone. Then, because there's no messages from him, Cassian calls Pietro.
Three strikes. Cassian puts the phone back on the cradle, shuts his eyes. Breathes. Keeps writing.
The next day, however, finds him at the high school. He doesn't go straight to the office; it's lunch time, and there's a billion kids it seems milling about, and Cassian hears not a few rumors about Mr. Roger's disappearance. What he doesn't hear is anything about Pietro. Nor does he see the familiar shock of silver hair.
He spots Wanda just in time for the bell to ring, for an adult to spot him in return, and for Cassian to give Wanda a nod before he puts on his best civilian face.
It's later in the day when he makes that call, leaning forward on his elbows against the kitchen counter. Long enough, he figures, for whatever other obligations Wanda might have - the details are fuzzy, and he needs to fix that.
Now. ]
Hey, [ He says when she answers (or the machine picks up), because that's what Cassian opens his conversations with when he's being honest. A pause, a meaningless introduction, meant to convey that there's nothing to worry about. There's nothing strange happening here. ] It's Cassian.
[ It's almost too complicated to keep up with. She'd heard Steve's message, understood there was a plan underway without even knowing what the plan was. But she'd heard it in his voice, heard the stern tone that something needed to be done. And she'd been willing to join him.
When she called out to him, he told her that they were at the house. That'd been enough to convince her, to get her ready to step out the door.
But then the pain β
Wanda can still feel the sharpness of it lingering in her veins, as if purposely meant to taunt her. It'd jolted through her body so suddenly with her fingers still on the phone just as she'd intended to hang it up. Her fingers clutching it, she'd cried out to an empty house, dampness forming around her eyes. The worst of it had subsided in minutes, but even with the following day, she'd felt a lasting effect throbbing from her chest to her legs.
But bearing the pain, it'd become more important to find out what had happened with her friends. Calls to the house had been futile which had been obviously related to the later news that Natasha, Sam, and Clint had all been arrested. Even worse, Steve wasn't in the cells with them.
Was it because of Steve? Was that the connecting link to the pain? Had something happened to him? But she'd been too distant, a connection like that wouldn't be possible unless she willed it. She'd never feel such a pain subconsciously like that without her intended efforts.
So how?
There's too much on her mind when she sees Cassian that for a moment she thinks nothing of it. Yet with the prior day's events, all becomes suspicious and intentional inevitably, especially with how little Wanda really knows. Does he know more? In this town, it's always too hard to tell.
The phone rings later at home, a sound that leaves her jolting with surprise and hesitance. Everything is suspicious. But she breathes, trying to collect herself, trying to ease all the worries she has about her friends, about Steve who's still nowhere to be found, and answers. ]
Cassian. [ He sounds normal, as everyone tends to do in this town. Sometimes honestly, sometimes not. She tries to keep her own casual tone even as everything pricks her from the inside. ] It's been some time.
[ It's been some time. Cassian winds his fingers through the curlicue phone cord. He last talked to Wanda, what, when Pietro brought her to examine the plane wreckage with him?
He needs to do better.
Starting right now. ]
I'm sorry about that. [ No excuses. ] I haven't been very good at staying in contact.
[ He takes a breath. ] With everything that happened yesterday I was a little surprised when I didn't get a call from Pietro. When I tried to reach the house there was no answer, the school tells me that he didn't come today, and when I went over to his house no one was there.
[ Not Pietro or Pietro's roommate, of whom Cassian only had suspectly vague memories of to begin with and now they're downright spotty. ]
Have you heard from him?
I'm worried.
i'm sorry for lateness!! inbox notifs always get lost ;;
It's not your fault. Things are always β [ what's the word ] Complicated. It's easy to get caught up.
[ And that's very much true. The uncertainty that comes with this place, the constant trickery of memories, the constant new revelations, it's not exactly a place to settle in easily. To go about day to day as if it all should be ordinary. Because nothing is.
But then with the mention of Pietro, she's bothered. With a chew of her lip, she pauses briefly. ]
I haven't. [ The feeling she got yesterday, could it have β ] Are you sure he's not simply skipping lessons? [ She knows there's has to be more to it than that. ]
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I was just gonna have him call, but then a novel happened (may 21st)
(Little things. Snippets of information on people. Who they knew. Who they knew regardless of the town's collective memories. Notes on the ones Steve and Cassian had learned this or that about. Written in Galactic Standard. Written in code beyond that.)
Poe's number, dialed. No answer. Steve's, and there's a disconnected tone. Then, because there's no messages from him, Cassian calls Pietro.
Three strikes. Cassian puts the phone back on the cradle, shuts his eyes. Breathes. Keeps writing.
The next day, however, finds him at the high school. He doesn't go straight to the office; it's lunch time, and there's a billion kids it seems milling about, and Cassian hears not a few rumors about Mr. Roger's disappearance. What he doesn't hear is anything about Pietro. Nor does he see the familiar shock of silver hair.
He spots Wanda just in time for the bell to ring, for an adult to spot him in return, and for Cassian to give Wanda a nod before he puts on his best civilian face.
It's later in the day when he makes that call, leaning forward on his elbows against the kitchen counter. Long enough, he figures, for whatever other obligations Wanda might have - the details are fuzzy, and he needs to fix that.
Now. ]
Hey, [ He says when she answers (or the machine picks up), because that's what Cassian opens his conversations with when he's being honest. A pause, a meaningless introduction, meant to convey that there's nothing to worry about. There's nothing strange happening here. ] It's Cassian.
and i return with a sequel
When she called out to him, he told her that they were at the house. That'd been enough to convince her, to get her ready to step out the door.
But then the pain β
Wanda can still feel the sharpness of it lingering in her veins, as if purposely meant to taunt her. It'd jolted through her body so suddenly with her fingers still on the phone just as she'd intended to hang it up. Her fingers clutching it, she'd cried out to an empty house, dampness forming around her eyes. The worst of it had subsided in minutes, but even with the following day, she'd felt a lasting effect throbbing from her chest to her legs.
But bearing the pain, it'd become more important to find out what had happened with her friends. Calls to the house had been futile which had been obviously related to the later news that Natasha, Sam, and Clint had all been arrested. Even worse, Steve wasn't in the cells with them.
Was it because of Steve? Was that the connecting link to the pain? Had something happened to him? But she'd been too distant, a connection like that wouldn't be possible unless she willed it. She'd never feel such a pain subconsciously like that without her intended efforts.
So how?
There's too much on her mind when she sees Cassian that for a moment she thinks nothing of it. Yet with the prior day's events, all becomes suspicious and intentional inevitably, especially with how little Wanda really knows. Does he know more? In this town, it's always too hard to tell.
The phone rings later at home, a sound that leaves her jolting with surprise and hesitance. Everything is suspicious. But she breathes, trying to collect herself, trying to ease all the worries she has about her friends, about Steve who's still nowhere to be found, and answers. ]
Cassian. [ He sounds normal, as everyone tends to do in this town. Sometimes honestly, sometimes not. She tries to keep her own casual tone even as everything pricks her from the inside. ] It's been some time.
no subject
He needs to do better.
Starting right now. ]
I'm sorry about that. [ No excuses. ] I haven't been very good at staying in contact.
[ He takes a breath. ] With everything that happened yesterday I was a little surprised when I didn't get a call from Pietro. When I tried to reach the house there was no answer, the school tells me that he didn't come today, and when I went over to his house no one was there.
[ Not Pietro or Pietro's roommate, of whom Cassian only had suspectly vague memories of to begin with and now they're downright spotty. ]
Have you heard from him?
I'm worried.
i'm sorry for lateness!! inbox notifs always get lost ;;
[ And that's very much true. The uncertainty that comes with this place, the constant trickery of memories, the constant new revelations, it's not exactly a place to settle in easily. To go about day to day as if it all should be ordinary. Because nothing is.
But then with the mention of Pietro, she's bothered. With a chew of her lip, she pauses briefly. ]
I haven't. [ The feeling she got yesterday, could it have β ] Are you sure he's not simply skipping lessons? [ She knows there's has to be more to it than that. ]