WHO: Kyrie, Fitz, Levi (Ezra) WHEN: 8/9 - Evening WHERE: Kyrie’s House WHAT: Another reunion WARNINGS: None STATUS: Complete
______________
The orange tabby sauntered down the street happily, a bit more of a spring in its step than normal. As it approached that ever opened window, it hopped up and let out a small yawn and stretch before a meow to signal its arrival. Oliver hopped from the window sill to the bookshelf to the floor before his form changed into the blue eyed man that was Fitz.
Granted, he was worried about the visit Ben had gotten, he was still floating on air over what had happened next. He hummed to himself as he pulled off his backpack and unloaded a few items he’d purcured while out into the fridge. Some came from Faction contacts and drops, others… he got other ways. But if it helped feed Kyrie better then he didn’t care. Reaching into the bag he pulled out a small bag of hair ties and barrettes he’d acquired for Key.
“Key, I have a surprise for you.” He called. “And some news.”
—
She had been sitting up on the counter of the kitchen, a hand curled around a mug of tea. Guilt creased her features. She was torn at the fact her brother was back and Fitz didn’t know. He hadn’t been around though. A sip was taken, and then she heard the familiar pattern of feet. Her head lifted.
“In here,” she called. Relief began to take its place in her expression. Setting the mug down she slid from the counter and moved to meet Fitz where he was. Her smile was bright for him, curious. “What is it? Tell me.”
Eager, she waited to see what he had, what the news was.
—
He passed her the hair supplies. “Figured you can always use more-“ He said with a small shrug. It wasn’t anything big, but little nice things weren’t easy to get on the island. Fitz has debated telling Kyrie about Ben being questioned, but decided to go with more of a hazy truth. “They fixed the camera’s in Ben’s place finally, so no sleep overs for a while.” He informed her with a small kiss atop her head. “Which is kinda sad.” He opened the cabinet and poured himself some water from the tap as he spoke almost matter of factly. “Considering we said I love you today.” He sort of let the comment float out there a moment, not facing her else his goofy smile give away his casualness.
—
Accepting the bag she turned it over and over in her fingers, looking at the ties. They were lovely for such small things, she would wear them with pride. Kyrie wondered if Jakob would like them, or if he would think they were childish. It didn’t matter. Fitz has gotten them, she would wear them.
And then his comment drew her attention. She lifted her head, the smile growing on her face. The bag was set aside and she swept to Fitz, throwing her arms around him. “You did? That’s amazing!”
Kyrie clung to him and then instantly felt a pang of guilt. She frowned, stepping backward. “I have to tell you something,” she admitted, like a child who might have broken a precious item.
—
Fitz felt her behind him and turned to be clung to. “Yea.” He was almost beaming. For the first time in a long time he felt seen- by someone other than Kyrie of course. And by someone who actually cared about him. Someone who wanted him around. And didn’t look at him as just a tool for information. It seemed that being invisible many times made his opinions not serious, his friendship not real. It had become clear with Daryn, every time he tried to help her, she acted like he was just pretending. Like his caring about her was fake. It made him feel lesser, ignored- just like the rest of the island did. It was hard when the few who knew who he really was, didn’t seem to really care to know him.
Then, Ben had come along.
His brow furrowed as she pulled back from him. “Okay…” His nose wrinkled slightly. “Please tell me this isn’t about that guy you like.” Fitz said, jumping to protective brother conclusions. “If he hurt you-”
--
Her fingers clung to his shirt as she leaned backward, looking up at him. Would he be upset at her? She hoped not. Would Ben? Kyrie shook her head at Fitz, a little smile creeping up and over her lips when he mentioned Jake. “No, it’s not about Jakob.” She shook her head.
Biting her lip, Kyrie thought about how to proceed. She figured she needed to come clean out right. “It’s Ezra,” her words were soft but audible. Tears stung her eyes. “He’s here. I don’t know how, but he’s here. He doesn’t remember us, not really.”
—
His hand reflexively reached up to his chest. His fingers could feel the three pieces of metal hanging there. Fitz may have been out of the service, but beneath his shirt he always wore his dog tags with one of Ezra’s. It had been a way to keep part of him close to him. Kyrie had the other. “No, Key… he died. We were at his funeral. His unit was there.” He blinked, unaware of the tear that fell at the memory. What had happened that she believed this was true? Was someone playing with her? Was the government messing with her the way they were with Daryn?
--
She didn’t register the tears beginning to cascade down her cheeks. She’d cried so much in the last day or so since his arrival that having more tears inside of her actually shocked her.
Shaking her head at him kindly, she gathered up one of Fitz’s hands and held it, pulling him along. “He’s not dead. He never was.” The words had come out in a tangled struggle but she managed.
Slowly she lead Fitz to her room and paused, knocking on the door.
—
As she started to pull him his mind started racing. What if it was true? What if Ezra really was there? When Kyrie knocked on the door he wasn’t sure what to expect. He heard a stirring. Then a thought hit him. “No… no Key.” He said in a hushed tone as he took a step back and tried to focus his mind. “Even if he is… I can’t put him at risk. It’s bad enough I let you-” A sense of panic set in for a moment as the door handle started to open. It was like time slowed. And in a split second he made a decision.
As the door pulled open, Fitz looked up in shock at the man standing there. I looked like Ezra, albeit a sleepy Ezra. He remembered that look on a much younger face when they’d had sleep overs when they were younger. The man seemed to give Kyrie a quizzical look, clearly wondering why he’d been woken up. That was when Fitz saw his eyes glance down to see the orange tabby with the collar designating him as ‘Oliver’, sitting there, tail flicking.
Inside, Fitz was crying. He was happy, sad, confused, lost, guilty, angry, so many emotions all at once, the small fur ball actually shook as he sat there. Eyes flicked to Kyrie and back to the dark haired man. He just wanted to reach out and touch him as if to confirm he was real. The cat got up and padded over to him, head brushing against his legs. He was real. Fitz felt like he could pass out.
--
Ezra had been so tired that he had gone to bed almost as soon as he had a bite to eat. He was sleeping lightly when Kyrie knocked. And from years of practice, he had his sleeve and prosthetic leg back on and he was sleepy opened the door to meet his sister.
He was in a pair of oversized black pajama bottoms and a heather gray t-shirt. “Hey,” he slightly mumbled. One bare foot sat on the carpeted floor beside the still-shoe-encased prosthetic foot. Then he looked down at the orange tabby cat.
“Hey there,” he whispered. The dark-haired man felt the cat rub against his left leg and sighed. Kneeling down, Ezra offered his hand to the cat. Where was Fitz? He was sure that Kyrie had said he’d be here soon before he went to bed.
—
She watched Fitz change. A bit of anger bubbled up inside of her that quickly shifted to guilt. Turning, Kyrie padded away, moving to the couch in the living room. Sitting down on it, her expression evened out and turned blank as if she were catatonic. Eyes would find the bay window and she stared out at the world beyond the panes.
The invitation to let Ezra stay was something she didn’t want to regret but she should’ve asked Fitz first. Fingers would lift and wipe away stray moisture but otherwise she sat silently.
—
The cat turned and ran after Kyrie, hopping up on the back of the couch so it could muzzle her head. He didn’t want her to feel bad. But anyone who know he was on the island was in danger. Harboring a ‘stowaway’. That’s before anyone made the connection to him being Faction. Once that connection was made, assumptions could be made and Kyrie, Ben, anyone seen frequently socializing with the cat was someone who could know who he was. Those who didn’t know who he was were safer.
And Ezra… he’d died and come back to them. Fitz couldn’t put him in that danger. He still regretted putting Key in the position she was.
—
Blinking, Ezra looked up to see that his sister had walked off to sit on the couch. He was missing something obvious. Then the cute little cat went after Kyrie. Maybe it was hers. Or maybe he was still a bit drowsy from his deep sleep. Pushing up to stand, Ezra stepped out of the room and moved over to the couch where Kyrie and the cat were. “Did I do something wrong?”
---.
Kyrie sat. Her eyes would close until she felt the nuzzling of ‘Oliver’s maw against her hair. A breath would escape her. She looked up at Ezra as he approached, shaking her head. “No.” It was the truth, he hadn’t done anything wrong, none of them had.
A hand would lift and her fingers brushed across the fur of the cat absently.
—
“Was I yelling in my sleep?” Ezra frowned as he circled around the couch and sat down beside Kyrie. An arm curled around her shoulders, careful not to disturb the cat. He didn’t understand why she was so sad. Was Fitz not coming home?
---
Shaking her head at him, Kyrie leaned into that embrace. “No,” she explained, turning to look over at Ezra. It was hard for her to explain as she couldn’t find the words for what she was feeling. So many emotions settled into the pit of her stomach at the same time.
—
Oliver nudged Kyrie’s arm with his head as he dropped to her lap. God, he wished she were like Ben, they could communicate then. He could have reminded her how he was on the island illegally. Tell her that he did want Ezra to know it was him, but didn’t want him to have to deal with the burden of his secret. Others who knew had found out because they really didn’t have a choice. Either they came with him to the island- or their power had outed him.
—
If only Ezra knew, but he had no idea that Oliver was Fitz. He was concerned about his sister. As he looked into her eyes, he frowned a little. “Perhaps sleep will help. Let me get you a blanket. And the cat can watch over you?” The dark-haired man still wondered where Fitz was.
—
As the cat crept into her lap Kyrie’s hand lifted and she brushed fingers across fur out of habit. Her eyes stayed on Ezra for another moment before turning to look at the window again.
Nodding, she agreed to sleep or at least rest. “Oliver always does.”
—
Things felt strange, but perhaps he was sleepy or simply he’d been ‘dead’ too long. Ezra frowned and asked, “Where’s Fitz?” Kyrie had said Fitz would be home soon before he went to bed.
—
The cat looked from Ezra to Kyrie, it pawed at her almost with a furrowed brow- or as furrowed a brow a cat can give. She told him? Why did she tell him? Yes, Fitz had told Ben, but that wasn’t by choice. Of course she’d tell him, it was her brother. She was probably too excited to see him to think about what telling him would mean.
Oliver lept to the back of the couch and dropped behind it. He had to come out, right? Kyrie had already spilled it. If he didn’t expose himself and explain then Ezra might go around asking people about him and that would do no good. God, why did things have to be so complicated? They never should have come to the island. Of course, then he’d never have met Ben… and they may never have found Ez again. Fuck.
Fitz stood up behind the couch, changing in a second. Fully clothed and with a couple days beard growth. He ran a hand through his brown hair, a little long on top. “Sorry, she didn’t actually tell me that she told you. She shouldn’t have.” He gave her a sad look. “I’m not supposed to be here- on the island.” He wanted to run and embrace his old friend, but fear and caution came first now. “You can’t tell anyone, mention my name, nothing. Okay?”
--
Oliver’s movement caught Ezra’s attention and he smiled as he watched the cat as it pawed at Kyrie. Then he continued to watch him as he leapt to the back of the couch and drop to the floor behind it. Silly cat. But once he heard Fitz’s voice, Ezra’s smile faded. Flashes of memory came - Fitz in his military uniform all decked out for the search of that village, their sleepovers when they were younger, Fitz’s laughter, a hint of how he smelled when walked into their first class of the day in high school.
Ezra slowly turned, his arm slipping from around Kyrie as he looked up at the other man. He had no idea tears were falling down his face.
—-
“Promise me.” Fitz pleaded. “I don’t want them to take you because of me.”
— “I promise,” Ezra rasped. One hand gently grasped Kyrie’s shoulder, afraid he was dreaming.
---
Fitz sighed and nodded. “Okay, good.” He wiped at his face. Shit, he was crying.
Moving around the couch he approached Ezra, hesitantly he reached out and touched his arm. “Shit.” He really was real.
His stomach tightened as he looked upon the face, older but still clearly his friend. Those feelings, the longing, the loss all came rushing back. All those ‘what if’ dreams he’d had. Then guilt, guilt he allowed those feelings to come back after he’d just told Ben… fuck.
“Ez…” he breathed, allowing himself to give into the reality of his best friend back. Fitz found himself embracing the other man, “I’m so sorry.” He whispered, always feeling guilt he’d not be able to save him.
—
Her breathing hitched at that grip as it tightened - her catatonic state seemed to disappear, and she turned to look at her brother, really look at him. And then she looked at Fitz. She watched her friend move toward them both and her eyes settled on the pair of men.
Kyrie reached out toward Fitz. Gentle fingers would find his shoulder. “You didn’t do this.” She didn’t want him to blame himself the way he usually did.
—
Ezra couldn’t take his eyes off Fitz, seeing his best friend in that face and those eyes. He looked tired, older. The dark-haired man was trembling, still unsure if this was real. There were fragments of memories from when they had been separated after enlisting and go off to the Middle East. “Fee,” he breathed.
He leaned into Fitz as he was embraced and his free arm curled around his friend’s waist to cling to him. “I’m here,” Ezra whispered and he turned his head and breathed against Fitz’s throat. Then a sob bubbled in his throat as he remembered just how close they had been and how Kyrie had said earlier that Fitz loved him.
---
Fitz pulled Kyrie into the embrace. They could just be there, crying and hugging. Eventually though, they would have to part. Ezra retiring to Kyrie’s room where his things were. Fitz forcing Kyrie to go to ‘his’ room where he would snuggle with her as they had many nights before when the other needed comfort.
They had plenty of time to catch up. But for that night at least they could all sleep with cheeks dampened with tears of joy and a warmth of reunion in their heart.