Disclaimer: I only own Pips and Sophie, everything else belongs to the people that own them. There is a little bit of actually plot now and the last three as linked.
Return
Pips had been young when she learnt that some things are permanent. Some things can't go back to normal. Some things are like melting ice or wax, the opposite action reverses the damage. Other things are stuck, things like a log in a flame, a spear through the heart.
She was rarely bitter; life had thrown too much in her way for any of it to make more than a fleeting impression. She understood that people had to die, both the philosophical reasoning and the actuality of the death itself. Pips even knew that there were fates much worse than death and that death could be the best case scenario. She would tell herself all of that each time she went to a funeral but it never made any difference. She didn't blame the universe, she didn't care whose fault it was, they were gone and that was end.
Until one day it wasn't.
It was 7 months later when Pips got the call, and actual call to the rarely used landline in her room. She didn't even know what was making the noise at first since JARVIS handled most of her communications. When she did answer it she hung up almost immediately or at least after the first 4 words.
"Flips, it' me, Phil"
She hung up the phone and then yanked it out of the pug and flung it at the window as hard as she could. It shattered satisfactorily against the reinforced glass and the impact alert had Barton and Cap running to see if she was alright. She didn't want to talk to either of them but she made them think she was fine before giving them the slip and finding Tasha, she had known the most about what had happened to Phil and wasn't as nervous about discussing it as the others were. She found the Russian in the gym and dared to interrupt her work-out, this seemed more pressing.
"I'll look into it but you need to keep in mind that this probably isn't real,." Pips nodded and allowed Tasha to go and find out what she could but she was spooked. It seemed too mean for random strangers but too small for any of the enemies that her uncle had had. No something like this could only hurt her, she thought back to the precautions that Phil had set up and packed her bag. She had promised to run the second she felt she was in serious danger and not to alert anyone until she was at the closest safe house to collect emergency money and a new passport. That night she couldn't sleep but she didn't want to worry anybody else so she forced herself to read through her Shakespeare collection until she eventually fell into a restless sleep.
In the morning she was relatively chipper until she remembered what she was planning and the smile dropped off her face. Tasha was not at breakfast but that wasn't overly unusual for the assassin, she frequently had late nights or earlier starts. What were strange were the looks that the rest of the Tower was giving her and the skittish behaviour. She kept her conversation simple and light, only speaking as a response to a direct question. She left for school but she forged a quick note that said she had an important appointment. She texted Peter to make sure he wasn't worried and then headed to the cemetery where Phil was buried; she would have headed straight for the airport but she wanted to say her goodbyes.
It was a little after lunch when she got a text, not from Peter or anyone else she knew though. It read 'don't be such a flute, just get up and turn around' Pips slowly turned around and glanced to see the sender of the text who must have been in the cemetery with her and knew that that was a code phrase she had with her uncle. There was a black SUV parked by the road and Pips could see a single figure in the driver's seat. There was another beep accompanying a second text, 'let's go for a drive'. She walked calmly to the car and opened the passenger seat door and got in. She looked straight at the driver and swore under her breath. She didn't need to check, she'd been looking at this face every day for the past 5 years.
"Hey Uncle Phil, looking pretty good for a dead guy."
I'm sorry; I'm not awesome at this sort of writing and am rushing to finish this within my time frame. I hope this isn't too terrible ad you'll stay tuned for the next one entitled change.
