"The Line"
The moment Jack steps into the restaurant was the moment he wants to be far, far away from the godforsaken place.
See, it wasn't exactly his choice to be there. It's a nice enough place, sure, with its decor, photographs and colourful items of cultural significance reflecting the Italian delicacies which the restaurant served. Jack had eaten there a few times, and the gnocchi was second to none.
No, the problem started with the manner of his journey - against his will. See, his final words to the team of heroes who called themselves The Line were that he'd never come back, not even if he was dragged, kicking and screaming.
Which was exactly what Merida, known to the city as Red Arrow, had done - minus the kicking and screaming. A paralytic-stun arrow to the chest as he soared over the city in search of ne'er-do-wells had seen to that. Throw in the sack into which she stuffed his paralysed body and the van into which she'd stuffed that, and whatever remained of his dignity had gone with the wind.
Assuming he even had any. Being a superhero… dignity is usually the first thing you lose. Ask Superman's underpants.
So it isn't the restaurant's fault he is squeezing his staff hard enough to break it, and seriously considering freezing Merida's feet to the floor. No, it's the people in it, sat at an opulently arranged table in the corner under an impressive painting of a waterway in Venice, secluded by currently opened curtains. The only people in the damn place, aside from the restaurant staff.
A low growl conveys his displeasure. "The hell is this?"
"Moonlight!" The brown, shaggy-haired man rises to his feet, his welcoming grin undone by the apprehension in his eyes. "Glad you could make it."
Something inside him seethes at the overly jovial tone to the man's voice. "I didn't have a choice, Night Fury, and I'm gonna ask again: what the hell is this?"
Night Fury casts a wary glance at the other occupant of the table, who does her best to avoid Jack's gaze. He knows all too well the blonde hair, upright stature and the way she fiddles with her fingers whenever the atmosphere grows tense. He knows how she'd hurt him.
"It's a meeting, dude." Night Fury makes a gesture of opening his arms. "It's a meeting of The Line."
Jack stares at him for a few moments, before snorting his utter disdain. "No way. I told you before, I want nothing to do with any of you."
"It's not them with whom you want nothing to do, Jack," the woman speaks, still intently looking away thus heightening Jack's ire, "and while I understand your anger-"
"Don't bullshit me, Elsa," Jack snaps. "I don't need your bullshit sympathy - what I do need is for all of you to leave me the fuck alone."
With that, Jack turns to storm out… except Merida stands in the doorway, barring his exit. Issuing her a hearty scowl, he tries to move past her, only for her to sidestep into his path.
Jack exhales a long breath, drawing himself to his full height and glares down at her. "Step off, Red."
Merida tenses, and slowly shakes her head, sky-blue eyes flashing. She isn't called Defiant for nothing. "No, laddie. Ye need ta hear this."
"No, I don't. I don't care what's going on, I don't care about this secret little meeting Fury's got going on," he gestures behind him. "I'm done with the Line - so get the hell out of my way."
Merida lifts her chin. Jack tries once again to move past her, only for her to sidestep into his path and roughly push him back.
"You sure you wanna do this?" he growls.
Merida snorts, and her red curls sway to one side as she points to her cheek. "Yer first punch was free, on account ye probably thought I was a bad guy 'cause o' the manner I brought ye here. But trust me, laddie-" she squares up to him, hostile defiance radiating from her entire being, "-next one, I'll start hittin' ye back."
Jack leans down, eyes narrowing into sapphire slits. "Then put your money where your big mouth is, and take a swing."
"Guys!"
Jack turns his head the slightest inch toward Night Fury though ensures he meets Merida glare-for-glare, and tenses his body in preparation for a brawl.
"What's wrong with you? We used to be a team… we kicked bad guy ass together!"
"That was a long time ago, Fury," Jack calls back. "The Line is dead, now. Only good thing being in a team did for me is remind me why I work better alone."
"Jack, please," Elsa speaks up, "we need to talk. It's important you listen."
Jack snorts bitterly. "The last time someone told me 'we need to talk' was the night I realised I can't trust anyone."
"Who told you that?"
"None of your goddamn business, flyboy."
"Look," Elsa persists, "when you left, it wasn't on the best of terms. I understand that - but we brought you here because you need to hear what we have to say. This concerns a threat to the city… to us all. Something is coming, Jack, and I don't know what's going to happen when it's here."
For the first time since he'd turned to leave, he looked back at the table. Night Fury leans with his fingers splayed across the table's surface, while Elsa had rounded it proper to look - actually look - at him. Her aquamarine-blue eyes stare at him imploringly, at odds with the authoritative frown cutting across her features. At one stage in his life, Jack enjoyed getting under her bossy skin to the kind, gentle woman underneath… but no more.
Jack chews at his lip while he gave each of them a look. Whatever it is, it's important enough for Merida to bodily drag his obstinate ass to the restaurant. Concerning enough to warrant bringing the team back together.
Not enough for him.
"I'm sure between the world's best archer, who could put an arrow in your eye without even looking-"
He gestures to Night Fury, "-the guy who has more gadgets than Batman, and who rides a fucking dragon-"
His eyes linger on Elsa for a few moments, "-and the avatar of winter itself, you can handle any threat coming your way. Whatever comes at me, I'll handle it alone. I just wanna go back home and protect my streets."
"Jack, I really think-"
Jack rounds on her. "I don't give a rat's ass what you think, Elsa. You always made decisions for everyone else without their input - well, this time, you don't get to do that. Whatever you guys are teaming up for, leave me out of it. I'm gone."
He turns back to Merida. "Last chance, Red. Move, or be moved."
Merida's eyes slowly move to her right, undoubtedly fixing themselves upon Elsa for guidance. The silent response must be a nod, as the redhead lets out a loud huff, whispers, "arsehole," and stands aside, her emerald velvet trenchcoat swishing with the movement. Seizing his chance to not be hit by another stun arrow, Jack roughly bashes open the side door to the restaurant.
The cool night air kisses at his skin like an old friend, sending satisfying tingles through every part it touches. He hates being inside, being constrained. Open air means freedom, a clear canvas on which his flights paint. Closing his eyes, he lets out a long breath that carries away the tension and anger, leaving behind an odd sense of guilt.
Is he doing the right thing? Sure, the Line used to be the super team of superheroes. Moonlight, with his mastery over winter's fury. Night Fury, soaring overhead on the back of his dragon Toothless saving lives with his gadgets and gizmos. Red Arrow, able to put an arrow in a bad guy's head from amazing distances with no effort.
Snow Queen, with powers of ice and snow, able to conjure breathtaking structures and objects of pure ice - amongst many, many other talents - and dismantle them as quickly as they came. His heart still aches at her name, her scent, her voice, even all those years on.
He emits a small growl and shakes his head clear of the nostalgia. The Line is nothing more than a memory, ancient history he'd rather forget. A call back to happier times that no longer existed, when four very different personalities worked well together for the greater good, ushering a new age of safety and security for the people of Arendelle City. Now, the city is the safest it has ever been - so a super-team was pointless.
No. His streets call him home, the streets which he protects and watches over. The Spirit of Burgess, they call him. Children would call his name with excited cheers as he swooped overhead. He'd throw them a mischievous grin and a wave, and call down half an hour's worth of heavy snowfall in which for them to play.
He's already been away for too long, he decides. Jack pulls the hood of his sweater over his head and walks on through shimmering pools of murky yellow, preparing to take flight. So wrapped up is he in his thoughts of home, and the possibility of visiting his family's graves, he misses the click of the door behind him.
"Jack!"
Her voice roots him to the spot.
Elsa.
Slowly, he turns his head over his shoulder to look at her. There she is, her shimmering blonde hair flawed by the artificial suns of the streetlights, eyes gazing at him through a frown of uncertainty, lips twisting and flexing like they hide a thousand words. Her hands hang loosely at her sides, her body wrapped in a long, high collared, grey trench coat. He loved her, once. Maybe he still does. Maybe that's why it hurts so much to look at her.
She gazes at him, their eyes meeting, conveying years of racing heartbeats and tender kisses, of fingers entwined and the mutual moaning of names. The battles they fought side by side, the way their powers complemented each other. Jack's heart thumps with a dull ache. He watches her, and she him, silent, waiting.
The roar of a truck engine approaches and passes along the distant street, throwing puddles of rainfall over the sidewalk. Elsa blinks - and the moment ceases.
"It's…" she struggles to speak in a cracked voice, "it's good to see you again, Jack."
Face relaxing, his eyes linger on her for a few moments, before they slowly fall, and move with his head as it turns away from her. Maybe it is good, for her, to see him again. Maybe she does miss him, or did, once upon a time.
It doesn't matter anymore. Without a word, he summons the wind to carry him into the black sky overhead, leaving Elsa, and The Line, behind him.
Where they belong.
A/N: Here is the first of seven.
Let me know what you think, and I hope you all have a good week ahead!