Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A breath of relief escaped her the moment she stepped out of the doctor’s locker room, adjusting her coat against the chilly night that awaited her. Her shoulder slumped the moment she reached the door outside the hospital. And that’s the end of a 12 damn hour shift, she yawned, stretching her arms.

The plan was simple: get some takeaway food right around the block, and soon she could crash on her bed. Just like what she does for the hundredth time, then repeat it again tomorrow. For what seemed like a dreary and lackluster existence for others, it was a good life.

She halted on the pavement as she felt her phone vibrate. Her eyes narrowed at the calendar notification “Laundry Day,” and when she clicked it, it revealed it was her mother syncing up her calendar with hers. “Laundry Day—Yes, don’t let your clothes pile up. You’re probably out of detergent.” A soft chuckle erupted from her, and that’s when she heard a low whump overhead and something crashing down that made the floor vibrate on impact.

Curiosity got the best of her, and she entered the alley where shadows hung thick between the old brick walls, and then there it was, or rather, he was.

A man lay in the alley, the pavement beneath him cracked upon what she assumed to be the impact. Taking cautious steps, she couldn’t make out his face. “What the—? ”

Her instinct drove her to rush forward, knees hitting the concrete. The man had unkempt, wavy hair, blocking most of his face. She took a deep breath and leaned down closer to the man. “Don’t move, I-I need to stabilize you. I’m a doctor. I’ll keep you safe.” The only response she got was his eyelids fluttering.  “Can you hear me? ”

The man’s body twitched, and a low, rasping breath escaped his lips.

His chest heaved, yet he was falling way above the sky…No one could have survived that.

And yet…

She reached out to check on his vitals when a sudden burst of light exploded where their skin met. The alley lit up for just a second before the darkness returned. She fell on her back, breathing hard.

No. No, no, no—the man wasn’t completely human, or even if he was, he was the sort of crowd that she avoided at all costs.

“Who-?" The man tried to speak, but before he could finish his words, Aurora stood up.

“I-I-I’m sorry. I’m not doing this.” She grabbed her bag and ran as quick as she could. She didn’t want any part of this. Not S.H.I.E.L.D. Not the Avengers. Not any of those alien things.

Chapter Text

A lot had changed since the Sentry incident.

Robert 'Bob' Reynolds was no longer alone. He got new friends; well, not all of them would see it that way, but they were the sort of people who stayed with him. They were strangers that turned into some patched-together family. They had their own quirks and not so great past but they all seemed to get along. Mostly. He got to start over, sort of. The Watchtower has turned into his home after he became stable-ish.

He played his part. Did what he could to help. Which mostly meant staying out of the way—no using his superpowers and risking waking up the darkness that was buried inside him. The Void may have been defeated that day, but it was still alive. Just deep under the surface. He could feel it.

And Bob had been doing fine. Better than Southeast Asia, better than the years before that—the wandering, the forgetting, the breaking. The experiments did make him better; he just...has to control himself.

After a particularly messy mission that left his friends having a close call with death, it became a wake-up call for him. His team, his friends, almost died, and he was just there. Useless if not making things worse.

Not wanting to be a burden, he began testing his powers: lifting his blankets with a thought, heating water with a glance, floating just above the ground when no one was looking inside his room, and practicing his x-ray vision while pretending to read one of his books.

Baby steps, he told himself.

When he felt more in control, he decided it was time to take a leap and practice flight. Not just one inside his room but a full-on flight. One more test, and then he can do more. He can actually help the team.

He waited until nightfall, pulling his hoodie up, walking blocks from the Watchtower to a forgotten alley tucked between decaying brick and rusted fire escapes. His hand shook as he took deep breaths.

This is it. He focused on his breathing, and slowly his boots lifted from the pavement.

A few feet. Then more.

The air shifted around him. A cool breeze brushed against his skin. He didn't look down, not only because his fear of heights prevented him from doing so, but also because he could begin hearing the voice. The higher he soared, the louder the whisper became.

This is pathetic, Bob. You'll always be useless. Let me out. Let me show them what we are.

His chest tightened and his eyes turned bright, feeling the darkness pull him in again. No. No. No. Not today. He clenched his jaw.

He thought of Yelena and the others. People who, for some reason, still believed in him despite what he did.

One minute he was hovering up in the sky, and then—he fell.

The impact cracked the pavement beneath him, dust curling up in the air like smoke. He lay half-conscious, the world spinning into black, feeling the void getting a grip on him.

And then there was a voice.

He wanted to tell her to leave him alone, not wanting to get her hurt if the Void took control of him again. He was expecting the worst, but then he felt her touch. It sent warmth on his wrist, and it spread all over him.

His eyes were closed, yet he saw a burst of light erupt out of nowhere.

Then there was silence.

The voices recoiled. The shadows retaliated. His eyes shimmered gold as he blinked them open, and that’s when he saw her. She was on her back, brows furrowed in worry while her eyes were glued on him.

Did she just calm the Void with just a touch?

Bob stared at her like she wasn’t real.

“Who—” he rasped, and he tried to speak again only to be cut off by her shaking voice.

“I-I-I’m sorry. I’m not doing this.” She grabbed her bag like she’d just stepped into a crime scene, turned on her heel, and bolted.

“Wait—” Bob sat down on the cracked pavement, breathing hard.

The woman disappeared.

For the first time in years, the voice had gone quiet and the Void was staved off—even if only for a moment. She calmed the voice without effort, as if chaos bent to her presence.

No one had ever done that before. At least not with just a touch of a hand.

Eyes on the news on the television, Aurora has yet to see any reports about a man falling up from the sky. No strange phenomena occurred last night in the city after checking four different news outlets and checking things online.

She did try to help out that man in the alley by telling a cop by the street that there was someone down the alley that needed medical help. It didn’t seem wise to stick around and find out what that man was capable of after all the weird things that happened.

Leaning back against her couch, she had to wonder if it was just a dream. Her life could be considered lackluster, and her mind decided to play tricks on her. But that electric touch she felt when she touched him. It was something she never felt before.

The humming sound of the washing machine halted, and the barking that came from the room reminded her of the chore she’s doing for the day.

“Yes, Obi. I know.“ She groaned, walking towards the washing machine.

Barely reaching the laundry, the tabby boxer dog greeted her, tail wagging and tongue lolling out of his mouth. A small prosthetic attached to his back leg gave a soft flickering light. It was no flashy technology, nowhere near Stark technology, since it was made out of low-budget metals and circuitry out of Aurora’s father’s excess supplies from his work.

“We’ll get the batteries changed, and then we can go for a walk, okay? ” She smiled at the dog, tapping his head. “Let me just get the laundry out first.”

Bob didn’t linger in the alley after the incident. He headed straight back to the watchtower after the near call with the Void and how quickly the woman disappeared. Needless to say, sleep didn’t come for him that night.

All he got from the incident was that she’s a doctor and the faint smell of antiseptic coming off from her. So the next day, he decided to comb the nearest clinics and hospitals around the area where he fell, which was not a walk in the park. There were dozens of them, but one of them must be where she worked, right?

The first three clinics and two hospitals he visited were a fluke. He went to the waiting area and even pretended to fill out the paperwork in the hopes of seeing her again.

She wasn’t there.

He tried again the next day.

And the next.

He didn’t tell anyone. Not Yelena. Not the rest of the Thunderbolts. Not even Valentina, despite his desperation. He didn’t want questions.

By the fourth day, he was almost ready to give up.

The memory of her—the light, the silence, the way his mind had quieted for the first time in years—was slowly dissipating like a dream. Like something he never really had to begin with.

He sat on a bench, overlooking a clinic and shops, watching the people come and go. Cold coffee rested beside him, barely touched. He touched his wrist where he felt the warmth and static that stopped the Void from taking over.

What if it was a miracle? His memory was fuzzy, and maybe, just maybe, he made up a person soft enough to carry him through the void of darkness swelling inside him out of desperation? He closed his eyes, exhaustion slowly affecting him.

“You made her up,” the voice whispered in his head. “You do this, don’t you? You hope, and soon you will break again. You always do.”

His chest tightened, his knuckles clenching into a fist. “I’m not breaking,” he whispered to himself, standing up.

Striding on his way back to the watchtower, he halted before crossing the street as the lights on the pedestrian crossing turned red. His eye caught one of the flyers on the brick wall about community health care; it was so damp that the photo almost faded and its edge peeled off. The words were blurred, and he was ready to cross the street when he saw her. He swore it was her despite the smallness of her face that lies along the few volunteers.

He had to look closely to make sure it was her, the one at the farthest left. No lab coat nor glowing aura as he envisioned in his mind. Just her and a half-smile plastered on her lips. Free consultation on Wednesday at 9:00 AM at Midtown Medical Center featuring volunteer physicians from NYMDA & partner clinics.

Snatching the flyer off the wall, he crossed the street.  He has the proof he needs to know that she’s real.

Chapter Text

Darkness covered the sky as heavy droplets of rain began to fall. Bob tucked the flyer beneath his shirt as he dashed toward the watchtower a block away. By the time he reached it, his hair clung to his face, hoodie damp from the drizzle, sneakers muddy from streets he didn’t want to fly over. Eyes on the floor, he hurried down the hall, ignoring the glances thrown his way.

He was ready to retreat to his room when he noticed someone waiting at the corner. Pulling the flyer from his shirt, he found it soggy, the faded photos still barely recognizable—especially her.

He narrowed his eyes, blinked, and then realized. It was his friend. The blonde ex–Black Widow assassin. But wasn’t she supposed to be out on a mission?

“You’re… uh, back,” Bob said, quickly crumpling the flyer and shoving it into his pocket.

“I am,” Yelena replied dryly, thick Russian accent curling around her words. Her gaze flicked to his pocket, then back to him. “And so are you.”

Her stare cut through him, sharp and unrelenting. Bob broke first. “Went out… for a walk,” he muttered.

She kept looking at him, clearly unconvinced. “You okay?” A flicker of concern crossed her face.

“Uh, yeah,” Bob answered too quickly.

“You sure?” she pressed, eyes narrowing.

He bobbed his head, fumbling for an escape. “It’s… nice to see you. I’ll go, um, get changed.” He gestured vaguely toward his room and strode off, desperate to avoid spilling anything more. Her gaze burned on his back until his door shut.

Above them, a CCTV camera whirred, lens tracking him until he disappeared. Nothing went unnoticed in the tower.

At 8 a.m. sharp, Bob lined up at Midtown Medical Center. His patience thinned quickly among the crowd. Not that he could blame them—they needed the free checkups. He, on the other hand, was pretending to be ill just to see the woman again.

He filled out a paper with a fake complaint, claiming a shoulder injury that wouldn’t heal. Then he maneuvered through the lines, careful to position himself so he’d end up in her office. His stomach twisted with nerves. He rehearsed his words over and over. Don’t freak her out. Don’t scare her off again.

As his turn neared, he read the nameplate on the door. Aurora.

“Robert Reynolds,” the nurse called.

He shuffled inside, back hunched. For a long moment, he just stared at the woman in the white coat behind the desk. Pen tapping the clipboard. Then she looked up. Recognition flashed in her widened eyes, shoulders tensing.

“Hi,” he said awkwardly, giving a little wave.

“Shoulder injury?” she read from the chart, then glared at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Mr. Reynolds?”

“Bob,” he corrected quietly.

“Bob.” Aurora repeated flatly. “You look perfectly fine for a shoulder injury. You’re not here for a checkup, are you?”

“You—you ran off after you helped me that night,” Bob blurted, voice unsteady. “I went looking for you, then I saw this.”

“I didn’t do anything,” she said firmly.

“You stopped him.”

“…Him?”

“The Void.” Bob’s throat worked. “I don’t know how, but you helped me get control.”

Aurora froze. The Void—the same monster who had blanketed New York in darkness. The one the New Avengers fought.

“Y-you’re the Void?” she stammered.

“Yes, but not right now,” Bob rushed. “He’s a part of me. Please—don’t freak out.”

“What do you mean… part of you?”

Bob shut his eyes, forcing himself to be vulnerable. “He comes out when I… when I lose control.”

“Like Jekyll and Hyde?”

“…Something like that.” His voice wavered. “I have highs… but then there are the lows. And that’s when the Void takes over.”

Aurora frowned. “So when you’re low, Void shows up—with your powers?”

He shook his head. “I have powers no matter what. But when he takes control, it’s… worse.”

She stared at him, processing. “And that night? In the alley?”

“I was losing control. But when you held my wrist… he stopped. I fell, but then I was myself again.”

“I only checked your pulse. That’s all. Then there was light—and I ran.”

“I don’t know how, but it worked. You made him disappear. It’s quiet when you touch me.”

“You’ve got the wrong person, Bob.” Her voice softened but held firm. “Look, if you’re sick, I’ll help you. That’s my job. But this… I can’t.”

His shoulders sagged. He stood there for a beat, arms wrapping around himself, before leaving without a word.

Aurora exhaled only when the door clicked shut.

By evening, her busy day finally slowed. Aurora postponed her morning dog walk until later. As soon as she opened her apartment door, Obi bounded forward, tail wagging furiously.

“I know, I know. I owe you a walk. Just let me sit for a minute,” she sighed.

Obi barked insistently, circling until she gave in. After a quick change, she clipped on his leash and headed toward Central Park.

Her thoughts wandered as her feet moved. Should she have refused Bob? Could she even help someone like him? Medical school had not prepared her for superpowered patients.

Her phone buzzed—it was her parents in Egypt, flooding the family chat with pictures. She smiled despite herself.

Obi tugged toward a squirrel, and before she could react, the leash slipped from her hand.

“Obi!” she shouted, snatching up her dropped phone before chasing after the boxer. Despite his mechanical leg, he was fast. Too fast.

Just as she lost hope, someone caught the leash.

“Oh my gosh, thank you!” Aurora rushed forward—then froze.

“Bob?”

“Oh hey,” he said awkwardly, hotdog sandwich in one hand, Obi’s leash in the other.

“You’re a godsend.” She scooped Obi up as Bob handed her the leash. Guilt gnawed at her chest.

“Bob, I—”

Obi lunged suddenly, snapping a bite out of Bob’s sandwich.

“No, no, no! Bad dog!” Aurora’s jaw dropped, mortified. “I’m so sorry. He never does this—”

But Bob laughed, soft and genuine. “Don’t worry about it. Looks like he needed it more than I did.” He offered Obi the rest of the sandwich, then asked, “Can I?”—his hand hovering over Obi’s head.

“Sure. He doesn’t bite. Just steals food.” She gave a wry grin.

He scratched Obi gently, smiling faintly, before pulling his hand away. “I uh… better go.”

Aurora sighed, frustrated by his kindness. He wasn’t pushing her, wasn’t asking for more—just… leaving.

“Bob!” she called out, surprising herself.

He turned.

“I can’t live with myself if I let Obi become a hotdog thief,” she said, stepping toward him. “Let me buy you a replacement. Please?”

“I don’t really mind,” he muttered, dismissive.

“Then do it for my conscience.” Her eyes softened. “Please?”

Bob hesitated, then nodded. “Alright.”

Her grin spread. “There’s a stall nearby. Best hotdogs in the city.”

There was reluctance in his eyes before he finally spoke.“…Okay.”

Side by side, they walked toward the stall.