quincy sparks ⚡️ [lincoln campbell] (carpentry) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2018-08-14 14:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | !narrative, r * laura, r: quincy sparks |
WHO: Quincy Sparks
WHEN: Last night, August 13-14
WHERE: Their bedroom
SUMMARY: Quincy remembers creepin' around Milwaukee on orders from Daisy's mom, and a confrontation with HYDRA, because apparently today is the day my MCU characters have worries about ~what's next~
WARNINGS: Mild violence.
He followed her like he’d been ordered, keeping a close watch at a distance. He didn’t trust Cal. No one did, not even Jiaying. But so far, nothing strange had happened. Skye and Cal walked, down an alleyway, down a street, stopping at a liquor store for ice cream sandwiches. There was nearly a confrontation with three young men after Skye bumped into one of them, but she was able to calm her father down, miraculously. Lincoln wasn’t sure that was even possible, from what he’d heard about the man. Somehow, Skye managed it. She’d also picked a phone off one of them. Lincoln didn’t know who she’d called, but he could take a guess. He trusted her -- or at least he was trying to. He was trying to gain her trust, too, which normally wouldn’t involve following her like this, but it did involve giving her the benefit of the doubt. This was for her benefit, anyway. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her; it was that he didn’t trust anyone else. He followed them into an old building, where Cal’s office used to be. Still was, only abandoned. He lost track of them once they were inside, and revealed himself finally because he wasn’t sure where they’d gone or if she was okay. That turned out to not be the best decision: Ca didn’t like the insinuation that Jiaying didn’t trust him, that they didn’t think his daughter was safe with him. “This is goodbye.” “It --” “Skye --” “Her name is Daisy!” Before Lincoln could stop it, Cal threw him into a filing cabinet, but Skye was right there to help him up. The noise drew attention from other people, however: not SHIELD, but HYDRA. “Just go,” Lincoln urged, “please.” And she ran. He was trapped, he thought. He stepped through a doorway and ran into a man with a metal arm, but his electricity did nothing to him but slowly burn him. “You don’t want to do this, I’m a friend of Skye’s,” the man told him. Lincoln didn’t trust it, though. It was too easy a lie. He wasn’t about to go down without a fight. But the other man was stronger, faster. He tossed Lincoln into a wall, and he could hear people asking the man where Skye was, where she’d gone. Then, “stay down, kid, I’ve got this,” directed at some people at the end of the hall. A man in a suit rolled what looked like a grenade at them, and it flashed with some sort of bright, blinding light. That was the last he saw. He woke to the darkness of their room in the middle of the night, his heart hammering loudly in his chest and in his ears. The end had happened so quickly that there hadn’t been much time for his counterpart to fully comprehend what was happening, but Quincy recognized panic and fear in the other man’s head. He recognized helplessness: the other man wanted to fight, but knew he couldn’t. He was a sitting duck, and it was one of the things he feared most in life. There was nothing he could do, nowhere he could run. Carefully, Quincy sat up. His right hand moved to touch his wedding ring, a habit of comfort he’d picked up in the weeks they’d been married. Violet, his Violet, had struggled for so long with not knowing who her parents were, not knowing where she came from or where she belonged. With their engagement, she’d shed that desire -- or at least she seemed to. She accepted that she had found her family after all; it just didn’t look like what she’d expected to find. Now, in his dreams, he was seeing her father. Or a father. Quincy had no idea what Violet’s father was like in their world, but the father in this dream world wasn’t exactly someone he wanted around. Cal was dangerous, volatile, unpredictable. How was he supposed to tell Violet about that? That her father had tried to hurt him, but then he’d also protected her? Protected both of them? Quincy’s head was a mess. He tried to shake it off, and he laid back down. He’d always hated cliffhanger endings. Maybe if he fell back asleep with the images he’d seen in mind, he could pick up where it left off. Maybe he could find out what happened to Lincoln next, presumably in the hands of HYDRA. He’d seen enough of Lincoln’s life so far that the thought made him shudder. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. |