"Bitter. The taste of betrayal is bitter upon my red lips. Is it not understood? Is it not expected? I long for something out of my reach. Given and then snatched. Held and lauded as a saving grace only to be smoke and mirrors for devastation and destruction. The soul knoweth not. The longing for another soul fraught with cracks and divides. Who can truly know? Who can truly be trusted when there is no logic behind it? No. It is a vile and unassuming tradition. So many have been tricked. So many have been swept along with the current of society. Thinking it's for the better, for their benefit. Well for no longer. I will be a dam. I will change the landscape and right this wrong."
- Excerpt from JoHaan's Schmidt personal journals
Howard convinces her to go home. They've placed the man into a temperature chamber usually used for delicate artifacts or parchments, but thankfully it's a large one meant for research purposes, so they can roll the medical bed in.
She feels sick as she walks back home. But she needs to shower. She needs to eat.
Those were the first reasons Howard tried. When those failed he reminded her that if she didn't scan in at home for over 48 hours it would be strange. So she must have an alibi.
She doesn't know for sure that he is her soulmate. Eve thinking that word takes her breath away.
The heat of the shower soaks into her skin.
Soulmate.
Soulmate…
She can only stay away a few meager hours. She showers, changes, eats, and then finds herself fidgeting. So she grabs her keys, her work satchel, and identification card and heads back out the door.
The fresh air clears her head a bit, and she walks slowly towards the small park designated in her neighborhood. Her eyes catch on those who pass by and she studies their faces. They don't look unhappy. But she can't say they seem happy either. They simply just are. Her eyes catch on the regalia that hangs from the lamp post, reminding them what a safe and beautiful world they live in. Pierce's face is on a few.
The city is clean. No trash litters the sidewalks. Everything is neat, precise.
Controlled.
Without warning her hands are shaking and she has to keep moving. So she stands, heading back to the bunker.
Instead of swiping her own card to get into the building, she waits until a colleague who will recognize her is about to enter. She pretends to be busy, shuffling through her bag and they scan in, letting her pass. Sure the cameras will pick her up, but at least her card won't alert the system that she's here. They'll only know if they search for her.
Once inside the bunker doors, it's like an invisible hand is dragging her forward. Her feet lead her directly to the sector she knew he would be in.
Howard and Clint are both there.
"How is he?" She asks, eyeing him on the table. He is in some sort of uniform, deep blue with silver lines and a silver star in the chest. She wonders if it was his flight uniform.
"He's…" Howard sighs and shrugs widely, hands flopping up and sinking to his sides, "alive, like you said."
She steps closer, the urge to yank him into her arms is overpowering. But touching is strictly forbidden until they know more.
"He started breathing an hour ago. Heartbeat was an hour before that."
"How is that possible?" She asks. Even though she had insisted it was possible, it's still mind bending to understand. "How long was he on that ship?"
"I'm not sure… at least 700 years. The technology doesn't respond well to our tools, meaning it's very very old."
"Impossible." she breathes out, hands hovering over his arm.
"He should wake up soon."
She sits on a stool, ready to wait as long as it takes.
Clint and Howard stand on either side. She stands behind him on the table. Clint said she would be right in front of him, but Howard had looked at her slowly and shook his head. "No. No, I wanna see something. Stand behind him."
So now they were in their spots. Waiting as his breathing continued to shift and change.
His body starts to shift and they all wait in anticipation.
She hears both of their intakes of air as they watch the man. She assumes he's opened his eyes and she goes rigid.
It takes a minute but the man starts to shift like he's going to sit up. She watches a large hand reach up to his face as if looking for the mask that had been on it. But it finds nothing. Then she watches his shoulders shift forward as he uses his stomach muscles to pull himself into a sitting position.
His back is massive, expansively wide and muscled. She can't remember anyone else ever being so huge. But then she watches his spine straighten, like someone has run a feather up it.
Slowly, he turns at the waist, ignoring Howard and his face turns directly to her. His eyes are startling and they nail onto face.
She can't remember how to breathe.
She can't remember how to think.
She can't remember anything.
The only thing she's aware of is the face, his eyes, locking her in their gaze.
It's deadly silent as he slides off the table, never taking his eyes off of her. He straightens, now fully faced towards her and he's tall. Her eyes have to travel up to meet his.
"Who are you?" Clint asks.
But his eyes are on her, he opens his mouth to speak but then clears his throat, trying to clear it from disuse. Then he swallows and tries again, "where am I?" His voice is raspy, rough.
"Sorta hard to explain." Howard adds, "but like blondie said over there, who are you?"
"My name is Steve." He's still watching her and only her, "who are you?"
Clint's voice is amused, "I'm Clint, he's Howard, but I can tell the only answer you want is Margaret. That's her name."
It's good he says it because her voice is missing.
Her heart is pounding, pulse thrumming in her neck. The desire to reach out and grab him is overwhelming.
The only thing holding her back is uncertainty. She's never felt anything like this before in her whole life. It's a giddiness, it's gripping her veins and lungs and muscles in a vice so tight she might shatter.
He steps closer to her, then stops. He looks confused, "what is happening." He then finally breaks their stare and looks to his side, at the two men, "why do I feel-" his voice dies and his throat bobs with a hard swallow, eyes flicking back to her, "who are you?"
"I don't know." she answers honestly. "Who are you?"
And neither are asking about each other's names.
His eyes narrow. Not in a threatening glare, but in a thoughtful wariness. "I was born before my soulmate." He says the word so casually she almost chokes.
"I was born and my soulmate was already dead." She breathes back.
She can see the wide eyes on both sides of her, just watching in shock.
"How long did it take to find my plane?"
That throws her off, "what?"
"It was going down after I stole Schmidt's power source." His eyes glance to the other's "but I couldn't land with it. It would have blown, so I had to put it into the ocean. How long has it been?"
Howard's voice is a quiet horror. "Schmidt? JoHaan Schmidt?"
Steve nods, "yeah, did it work?"
"Did what work?" Clint asks.
"Did dislodging the power source stop them from building the bombs? Did we win?"
-That maybe… just maybe the wrong side won the war-
Howard suddenly is wheeling a rolling chair in front of Steve. Ignoring his question, face in disbelief and full of curiosity, "What was it like? Having soulmates everywhere? How did Fusion work? Were they actually dangerous? I mean like, could they be? How many people had soulmates? How did the government function, like actually? And-"
"Howard." Margaret says sharply.
The man pouts but goes quiet.
"Where am I?" he asks again. Steve's eyes seem to flick between all three of them. "You're saying you don't have soulmates here?"
They're all quiet for beat.
"We found some of the propaganda." Clint says quietly, "that they used against soulmates."
"It was such garbage." Steve grits out, "a person was bad because they were bad, not because they were soulmates. Schmidt was just screwed up from his soulmate, so he went psycho."
All of them blink in surprise. "Excuse me?" Howard asks, face full of disbelief, "Schmidt's what-now?"
Steve blinks at them, obviously confused. "His soulmate."
It feels like the ground is snatched from beneath all three of them. "He had a soulmate?" Clint repeats.
Steve's brow is furrowed, "yeah, she left him and he went crazy. We all knew he killed her but no one could prove it. That's why he started campaigning against them." He pauses, the reality seeming to sink in, "we lost…" He pales, his voice is tight, strained, "didn't we?"
He is almost unbearably silent as they explain the last almost 2,000 years. His face is stone as they explain how Schmidt had gotten his way and the way soulmates were not allowed.
Her skin is still dancing, wanting to make contact, but the seriousness of the situation helps her stay complacent.
As they finish telling him whatever they know. His voice is quiet, "they kill the babies who-?"
All three nod slowly.
His face is devastated and he hangs it, elbows on his knees and hair hanging towards the floor.
"If…" he starts after a few minutes of grief, "if it's been that long…" his head raises just slightly to study his hands, "how am I alive?" He looks up at them. "I got into the OxoTank to protect myself if the source did end up blowing even in the frigid temperatures, but that's the last thing I remember."
"You were encased in ice when we found you." Howard explains, "completely entombed in it. The mask was still on your face and a few of the wires attached."
Steve nods, "I was trying to attach everything while the plane was in freefall. I think I passed out before I could manage." But he's shaking his head, "but that still doesn't explain why I am still alive. After that long in ice… the power to the plane would have shut off and I would have been without oxygen even if the ice hadn't closed me in." He looks up, almost accusingly, "so how am I alive?"
No one says anything for a bit. But then Howard pipes up, "I have a theory." They all turn towards him. "So you know how Soulmates sometimes have special abilities?"
Her eyes widen, the implication hitting her.
Clint chokes, "what?"
Steve looks confused, but his eyes do flick to her.
Then the silence lasts longer.
"I think that maybe…" Howard grimaces, "your connection to your soulmate kept you alive."
"Is that what this feeling is?" He asks in a tightly controlled voice, "like there's-"
"Fire in your veins." She finishes, voice dry, "like electricity is running underneath it."
He stands, eyeing her and she can't help but mirror the movement. Clint and Howard are staring up from their respective seats in shock.
"Howard," Margaret says softly, "does the paperwork say exactly what date his plane was located?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Was it 23 days ago?"
Howard in her peripheral vision frowns, "I dunno off hand, hold on." He runs somewhere and it's quiet, neither of them able to look away. Now that the most pressing issue of identities and time is solved, it's like a magnet she can't resist. She's being drawn to him.
"Holy shit!" They hear an exclamation and then Howard's running back into view, a file in hand, "23 days exactly, how did you know?!"
"I woke up, feeling like I'd been shocked. I'd never felt such lightness or joy in all my life. I've felt-"
"That's why!" Clint breathes out, "that's the difference! Your soul knew!" He gasps and turns to Steve, "it somehow knew…"
They continue to stare at each other.
"Take a deep breath. While statistically possible, it's highly unlikely you're going to screw up your Fusion. While the history of the process is well documented, the exact origin and the explanation about how it was figured out is unknown. Many assume that it was instinct, like how the soul knows whether it is destined to obtain its partner in their lifetime or not. But others believe that the very first pair of soulmates created the process as a show of devotion and thus became ingrained in the very tradition of soulmates. We may never know the truth, just know that it will all be alright."
—Excerpt from "So you're expecting a Soulmate? A history of Fusion and some Tips and Tricks to Ensure a Healthy Relationship (1984)
"So how do we figure it out for sure?" Howard asks, walking towards them and standing between them, but not blocking their line of sight. "Because I'd bet a bunch of money you guys are soulmates."
"This is going to go to shit so fast." Clint says with wide eyes, "do you guys even understand the implications of this? We will be killed so fast!"
This smother's her innate sense of excitement and she looks over at Clint.
"Explain." Steve says, "they'll kill us? Even though we are not babies?"
Margaret nods, "yes, we're supposed to report if we notice changes in behavior. However, it's so rare because of the infant deaths. No one gets a soulmate late in life…" her voice trails off as she stares at him, feeling so drawn that she takes another step forward.
He mirrors her movement and then slowly they're circling each other. She's not thinking. Her brain is lost somewhere in a haze. Only her heart is conducting the orchestra of emotions flooding through her blood.
His motions are smooth as he steps, his form towering over her in a way that adds more heat to her thrumming pulse.
She can hear whispering, but the blood is rushing and the only sound she can hear is the beat of her own heart.
Then he stops, reaching out, grasping her upper arm, halting her movement. The touch sends shattering sensations through her, like tiny sparks bursting through each cell. The inhale she takes is sharp, and his own breathing is heavy, chest heaving.
Her hand reaches out, and she grabs his arm where hers is held, on the bicep. His skin is blazing hot beneath her cool fingers.
His eyes close briefly at her touch. Then his throat is tight as he looks at her, "I never thought…"
Her voice is breathy, "me either…" then she tilts her head, looking at him curiously, "is this how it feels for everyone?"
"I don't know," he shrugs softly, "everyone's experience was different, at least that's what I was told."
"Is…" she looks down at their contact, "is this Fusion?"
He looks down, and then back up, and there's a hint of a blush, but he laughs softly, "no. No, this isn't fusion."
Suddenly Howard's back, leaning over their connected arms trying to get Steve's attention, "What is Fusion? What does it exactly entail? All records of it were destroyed so we only know the term and its general definition that it used to officially unite the soulmates. So what is it? Is it sex?"
She and Steve both startle but then Steve is shaking his head, "what? You don't anything about Fusion?" He looks down at her and there's definitely redness on his cheeks. "No, it's not… Well, it's not that." He winces, "I guess they always said-" he's fully blushing now, "it's a whole process."
Howard's still right there, in their faces, "process? Like what? How did it go?"
Clint starts dragging him away. But Howard is protesting, "wait I have so many questions-"
"Howard!" Clint urges, "maybe we need to go figure out the details of this potentially life ending incident?"
It's true. Not only is being a soulmate a death sentence, but knowing about one, harboring one, or refusing to report one will get you a public execution.
Howard's protesting but Clint says, "it's new to them too Howard!"
That makes him fall silent and suddenly it's just her and him.
"I don't know what to do." She admits.
"Me either." He whispers back hoarsely. "When I was a kid I-" he looks down, embarrassed, "I was always disappointed that I wouldn't…"
She smiles, "I was a devastated child. But… there were moments, moments when my sadness would just vanish.. Like a moment of clarity, but then the sadness would crash around me again. I don't know…" she looks up into his wondering eyes, "maybe my soul knew."
"I can't believe I was stuck in that ship for…" he can't even seem to voice the number.
"Me either…" she frowns, "did you leave behind… family?"
His face is somber, "no… My mother was gone before I joined the war. Never really knew my father."
"You had no one else?"
He shakes his head no."
"I'm still sorry. You've been lost in time for so long. To awaken in such a new world would be… disorienting."
He swallows tightly, eyes locked on her and jaw flexes like he's trying to decide what to say. "I know what you're saying is true." His voice gets rougher, "but I can't seem to focus on any of that right now." His body shifts, closing the distance between them. Her head tips back a bit to keep his gaze. His eyes are studying her face, taking her in. "disorienting..."
She nods. He is disorienting her in every step of the way. She feels like an empty headed, slack jawed fool.
"You're very beautiful…" he whispers out, seeming surprised by his own words, "I can't believe how beautiful you are."
She feels the smile that graces her lips, "look who's talking." her voice is teasing, "you're like…" she doesn't know what to compare him to. She's never seen anyone as tall, as strong, shaped like him… "you're like a tree."
He laughs, a sound that fills the bunker and makes her pulse thrum faster.
"A tree. Okay, I'll admit, that's a new one."
"Are you my soulmate?" The question comes unbidden, "are you?"
Those blue eyes study her face and he nods, "I think I am…" then he looks around, "I can't remember what they said the sure signs were. But I feel confident…" he takes a deep breath, "there's a heaviness in my chest. Like I'm finally anchored to the ground. I've never had that before…"
She gasps, "I have a lightness…" Her free hand rests over her heart, "I've always felt a weight, like something was trying to pull me into the ground… Now I feel ready to fly."
Slowly he leans forward, resting his forehead against hers, "I've never felt this way before. I don't know you… but I just know…"
She nods, smiling, "I feel like a giddy child."
He grins, "I want to kiss you."
"I want you to-"
And he kisses her, a sense of pure adrenaline and joy flooding her.
She expects the feeling to wane a bit. To fade and allow her to think properly. But it doesn't flicker or waver at all.
Howard and Clint are asking Steve questions and he's answering them, although his hand is in hers and his thumb is tracing circles wherever it can touch. His eyes flick to hers constantly and everytime they do she feels like smiling like an idiot.
It's like nothing she's ever experienced before. Completely unbridled joy, a scary sense of pure liberation mixed with a heat that has not faded from under her skin.
And it's only been a few hours.
—
She hasn't slept in almost 3 days. And while she is tired, there's this energy she can't get rid of.
Suddenly Howard stands, "holy hell you must be STARVING."
Steve smiles, looking slightly awkward, "I wouldn't say no to food."
She blinks, "you should have said something!"
"You can't feel his hunger?" Clint asks.
"No…" she says quietly, "should I be able to?"
Steve shrugs, "I don't think soulmates feel that stuff before. Everyone's reaction to fusion is different. But I assume that's the sort of thing you feel after."
The topic of Fusion makes her stomach flutter. She still doesn't know the process. He hasn't gone into specifics but the question can't be ignored for much longer.
Clint leans forward in his chair, the metal creaking slightly, "so what are we going to do, because you're both now officially majorly illegal. Death sentence illegal, upset-the-entirety-of-civilization-as-we-know-it illegal."
"I can't believe that." Steve says quietly, "I can't believe we lost…"
"So you're saying that if you fuse—" Howard says slowly, studying them like they're a math problem. Her hand is still tightly clasped in his. "That you won't go super psycho power hungry?"
Steve frowns, "if I was super psycho power hungry I'd be that way already. Being a soulmate doesn't initiate that."
"But it gives you abilities to maybe make that dream a reality."
Steve opens his mouth to rebuttal but then stops and tilts his head in thought, "I suppose that's not totally inaccurate. But not everyone reacted the same, or fused the same. Some soulmates didn't get abilities at all. They can't blame the entirety of soulmates on a few bad people who happen to be soulmates."
"Nobody's listening to me." Clint whines out, "we're all going to be killed unless we figure this out-"
"Clint-"
"Don't you understand?" Clint snaps out, "He's a whole human being! He's appeared out of nowhere. And he won't be able to just insert himself into society! They track everyone." He points to Steve, "and no offense, but Mr. Mountain here isn't going to slip into a crowd." Steve grimaces but says nothing. It's true, he would stand out wherever he went.
"Why is that?" Peggy asks, gesturing to him. "Why does he look so… unique?"
Howard is nodding, "because he carries genetic factors that have faded from time." He gestures to Steve's eyes, "that color blue hasn't been seen in a baby in probably 6 generations. Blue eyes in total are fading out completely, but that specific hue? Unheard of." Then he makes a waving motion over Steve's body, "plus when you kill half the population, you start shrinking the gene pool. Which is an actual problem the government is trying not to freak out about. But height like his is a rarity, also just body type and even his hair color are more rare than most people realize. He will draw attention wherever he goes."
Steve looks around, "I'm not going to have to.." His expression shifts to concern, "live in here forever… am I?"
"No." Margaret bites out, "no."
But she says no more because she doesn't actually have confidence that that's the truth. It's just her initial reaction. They can't be separated, not now, not ever. And she can't disappear into the bunker… that would be noticed.
"Yeah…" Clint huffs, "super helpful."
"We will figure it out." Howard says with a shrug, "I always figure things out." He narrows his eyes in thought, "but seeing as I'm not planning on killing you-" he points to Clint as if to ask 'you gonna kill him?' Clint rolls his eyes and so Howard nods, "and neither is he, and I know for sure she isn't going to try to kill you. So that means you're stuck with us and down here until we can figure something out. So I say… Fusion first."
She blinks, "Fusion first? Why?"
Howard shrugs, "gotta seal the deal. Gotta know that we're freaking out over an actual soulmate situation and not just an unusually high attraction situation."
They all know none of them believe that it's just attraction, but his point is valid.
"Okay," Steve breathes out, "fusion."
His eyes flick to hers and she feels her pulse start pounding.
—-
"So," Steve says slowly, gesturing to the sharp knife, "Fusion works by us fusing our blood." He picks up the knife, "originally fusion happened in public or was celebrated at least. As soulmates grew more common, Fusion began being more of a private thing, and eventually becoming a secret thing to avoid anyone knowing where the fusion sights were…" He glances up at the three of them, "once the sites are healed, our bond is…" he swallows tightly, "forever."
"Why couldn't people know about the fusion sites?" Howard asks, "why would knowing where they were matter?"
Steve frowns, "Those sites are sacred to the souls' fusion. So while removing them doesn't erase the bond, it's like having a piece of your soul removed. It harms the connection like listening to a fuzzy radio. After having such a sharp sense of a soulmate, it can be devastating for that connection to be muted or harmed." His face is grim, "that was a tactic that Zola, Schmidt's second in command figured out. "It threw soulmates into a panic and allowed him to get into their minds. Make them obey for fear of their partner."
"So everyone's… sites are different?" Clint asks, voice haltering on the word 'sites' like it is foreign.
Steve nods. "Yeah, it made it special to the couple." His voice gets rough and he clears it, "although there's only so many places on the body."
"So…" Clint starts awkwardly, "should we leave?"
Howard starts to protest but Steve waves his hands, "no, it's fine. It's just-" he laughs, "it's actually more gross than private."
He gestures for her to come closer and she obliges. "Are you…" he starts, "are you ready?"
She nods, knowing that there's nothing she's ever been more ready for than this right now.
"Tongue or hand?" He asks.
Margaret blinks in surprise, "Excuse me?"
"You choose one, I choose the other."
"Oh… I don't know. Is there one you prefer?" She looks at the other two, "I still don't know what I'm supposed to do."
Steve pauses, "oh, right." He shakes his head, "sorry I keep forgetting how much you don't know." Then he grimaces "No offense, I just mean-"
"I understand." She laughs softly, "just tell me what I'm supposed to do."
His eyes grow soft at her laughter but then he takes a deep breath and nods as if to confirm something to himself, "I thought about this a lot. I thought I would never get the chance to experience this but-" his cheeks pink just slightly as if embarrassed at having revealed he'd longed for a soulmate, "but I thought about how I would do it."
"Which is?" She urges, wondering.
"Usually we both would use hands. That's what everyone else would do… But…" he studies her seriously, "I've always had a different idea. Give me your hand." She holds it out immediately, no hesitation. He takes it gently and looks at her seriously, "pick somewhere on me."
"Somewhere.. on you?"
He nods. "It's the place you will fuse to me." Then he wrinkles his nose, "technically it could be anywhere, but for circumstances like ours I would choose a less visible place."
Her brow furrows in thought and then she slowly reaches out, resting it over his heart, "how visible is it? And how often might you have your shirt off? I don't want to pick somewhere that will draw attention."
He nods in thought. "That's true, so perhaps below the waist but above the knee?"
She can't believe the grin of amusement she feels grace her lips but she does hear Clit and Howard snort in unison. So her hand rests on his lower side, closer to his back than his front, "here?"
He nods, "alright." Without hesitation, he unbuckles his pants, pushing it just a bit lower to have access to the area she had pointed out. Before she can blink, he's sliced a short thin line, barely wincing as he does so.
She gasps, but then he's holding her palm steady, "don't pull away." He orders softly, slicing a matching line on her palm. The pain does make her suck in a sharp breath but then her hand is being pressed against his hot skin, palm side down. Her eyes widen, as the blood from both wounds begin to mingle, heat begins to grow, and her hand feels electrified, then her arm, and the feeling travels through her body. She's pretty sure her breathing is stuttering at the feeling, unfiltered heat and energy being raked through every cell.
She's barely able to comprehend any thoughts, but she watches as he takes the knife and without taking his gaze from her, slices a thin line across his tongue. Her eyes widen, but then she feels her shirt being moved. She looks down to see him slice a delicate line below the pointed spot of her hip bone where her leg and hip meet. She can't even feel the pain of the cut.
But suddenly his mouth is there, heat from his tongue making her eyes blink shut. She's pretty sure Howard and Clint are stunned into silence, and she should be blushing from head to toe, but she can't think of any other thing than his lips on her skin and the feel of him beneath her own hand.
As the feeling starts to fade, he shifts, standing and raising an eyebrow, gently bringing her cut hand up to his mouth and then gently kissing her palm. "Are you afraid to kiss me?" He asks, "I always though-"
"No." she breathes out, not even listening to his explanation. "Kiss me."
He does, holding her head and neck as she throws herself into the kiss. The metallic tang of blood should be strange, but it's like the heat touches her lips and drains down her throat, like he's sealed into every inch of her. A deep feeling of contentment fills her. Joy and enjoyment that overwhelm her own.
Her eyes widen, and she pulls back, looking at him in shock, "I can sense you."
He grins, and she feels an even stronger sense of elation rise, "and I can sense you."
"What the hell did I just watch?" Clint says in obvious disbelief, "couldn't you get like blood poisoning or something?"
Steve laughs, the joy rippling through her. "No, not with soulmates. Their blood is compatible in ways science couldn't ever explain."
Suddenly Howard's back in their faces, "what can you sense? Is it words? Feelings? Are you able to communicate? How do you feel? Is the Fusion complete?"
Steve laughs again, looking down at her, "development takes time."
"Development of what?"
Steve shrugs, "I'm not sure. Every pair of soulmate's are different." He tilts his head, studying her, "what we feel right now, the instant connection is the most common ability soulmates have. The ability to sense each other's emotional states."
She grins and his mirrors her back.
"If you guys are going to be this nauseating all the time-"
She glares at Clint but then laughs, "actually…" she tilts her head, "that desperate clawing feeling is going away. Like I can breathe again."
He nods, his expression one of understanding. "Now that our souls have fused, the magnetism fades. We will always feel drawn together of course, but now our bond is assured. The universe isn't trying to force us together anymore." He grins, "it got what it wanted. Now it lets us be."
"Okay, so how long until all the abilities appear?" Howard asks, always in science mode.
"Most soulmates knew within the first month or two, but I heard that it could take up to 6 months or even a year. Everyone was different, like I said."
Howard groans like the thought of waiting physically pains him, but he just sits down and spins in his desk chair, "so… right now you're only experiencing the emotions."
She nods, "So far."
Clint rubs at his temples, "we're all going to die."