InsaneJournal

Who: Miguel and Darcy
What: Back to normal
Where: Food court
When: Jan 29th, evening
Status: Incomplete GDoc, Ongoing in comments



Miguel was sitting at a table close to Lacey's diner, a forgotten mug of black coffee cooling on the table while he read over a document that had appeared on his phone that morning. The first part of it was more than familiar to him, since it was his thesis, but it had been annotated with extra information. The second part was a list of questions about his thesis along with their answers, and he recognized the first one as the question that Dr. Daskalakis had just started to ask him. Were these the questions from his defence? They had to be, right?

He had already skim-read through the annotations once, and was now reading through the questions, answering them in his head and then checking what had been written as the answers afterwards. So far, he'd been doing pretty good, only missing one or two minor points with most of the questions already gone through. He didn't see this as cheating; he never remembered this place when he left anyway, so any revising or indeed, going over the questions and answers like this, it wouldn't make any difference whatsoever. He'd still be returned to the same point in time, with no idea at all about the weeks spent in space or any of the information he'd learned in that time. He just felt incredibly reassured that he did in fact know his subject properly. He finished reading the last answer at that point, and finally remembered about his now-cold coffee. The temperature of his drinks had long stopped being a problem for him, more than used to drinking cold coffee after pulling yet another all-nighter in the lab, so he didn't even blink when he took a mouthful.

And then...

Then he was no longer 19 years old. Anyone watching would have seen an almost instantaneous change, as Miguel was no longer a skinny 19-year-old with dark brown eyes and slightly shaggy dark curly hair that would have taken on a red tinge if he'd been able to get into the sunlight for any length of time. No, he was back to being 32 years old, with his wedding ring on his finger, his red eyes and fangs, and ... well, he still had the dark curly hair that would go a bit red in the sun, but it was shorter than before. Maybe a bit neater.

He swallowed the unexpected mouthful of cold coffee, and then coughed a little. "Ah, shock," he groaned as he squinted against the light that was already starting to hurt his eyes, and quickly shaded them with his hand. "Lyla? Lyla..." he asked, slightly confused when she didn't reply instantly until he realized what else he was missing. "Where's my watch?"

***

This stint at being female had lasted a while longer than his previous gender swap, but this time around Darcy was a little less uncomfortable and awkward about the whole thing. Once he’d got over the initial shock, and Shep had sorted him out with some sort of hormonal implant, he found that after a few days he relaxed into it. Well, as much as Darcy ever really relaxed. There was always a hint of awkward about him no matter his gender.

He’d also be lying if he said he hadn’t missed his friend Miguel. Even though Miguel had technically been on the station the entire time, he’d been the wrong age. An adorable child, and a slightly irritating teen, neither of which made for a particularly close friendship.

It was just by chance that Darcy was in the foodcourt at the same time as teenaged Miguel. He’d eyed him from across the room as he’d entered, and given him a polite bow before going about helping himself to some dinner. He did consider joining the teenager but he seemed hard at work, so Darcy sat elsewhere to eat, thinking that he would maybe say hello properly once he’d finished his work.

It was a blink and you’d miss it moment. Darcy had just placed down his glass after a drink when he’d had to do a double take. It took his brain a moment to catch up with what was going on, and then he’d leapt to his feet and was quickly at his friend’s side.

"Miguel, welcome back..." he said, then almost rolled his eyes at himself. It wasn’t the time for small talk, he was clearly struggling. "Can I help you back to your apartment? Your lab?" He had no idea where his watch would be, although he supposed if need be he could just take him to his own apartment to talk to Lyla.

***

Miguel flinched back from the not-quite-strange voice at first, and then forced himself to look at who was speaking to him. It was bright in the food court, and the snow that hadn't been cleared away was only making things even brighter so he had to blink a couple of times to allow himself to be able to see who it was.

"Darcy? What... You're female," he said, somewhat stupidly, and then picked up on the first thing his friend had said. 'Welcome back'? Where had he gone? There were odd memories, new memories tickling at the edge of his mind but he didn't have time to try and remember them just yet. His eyes were hurting and it was making it difficult to concentrate.

"My apartment, I need my glasses," he said, when Darcy gave him the choice, "and when did you become female? How did I miss that?"

Things were starting to filter in as he squinted up at Darcy, like the fact that it was cold, when it hadn't been cold a few moments ago. And he couldn't hear the stupid Christmas music that Bucky kept trying (and failing) to silence. His glasses and watch were suddenly missing, despite him wearing both of them less than a minute ago. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't suffering from some highly specific Darcy-related amnesia. "It's not December 16th any more, is it? How old was I?"

***

"Glad to see that you are as observant as ever, Dr O’Hara," Darcy responded. It might have sounded rude to a bystander, but there was a certain Darcy deadpan wit to it that he was sure Miguel knew was in good humour.

"Of course, I’ll escort you." Darcy reached out to touch Miguel’s elbow, silently communicating that he could lead him without Miguel needing to ruin his eyes completely. "And longer than I would like." He didn’t bother answering the second part of his question. He’d catch up in a minute.

And there it was. "I’m afraid you missed Christmas, and we are now well into January," he explained. "Oh, very small for a while, and then a teenager for a while. I’m sure Sarah can be more specific."

***

"Nothing gets past these eyes," Miguel replied, more than aware of Darcy's sense of humor and responding in kind, even while everything around him was blurry thanks to his eyes watering. He nodded at the touch to his elbow, perfectly okay with Darcy leading him through the station, and started to gather up his belongings - his phone, a pen and some paper that he could tell had been written on, although he couldn't bring himself to try and focus enough to read what was on it - before getting to his feet. Thank shock he was wearing actual clothes rather than the spider-suit, he thought, as he was able to shove everything into the front pocket of the hoodie he was wearing. No wonder he was cold, though. Ratty jeans with holes in the knees and a hoodie were fine for pre-Christmas snow, but pretty rubbish afterwards.

"Ah, shock," he breathed out once Darcy had explained, and then shut his eyes as the new memories made themselves known. Christmas as a little kid with Sarah and Harri and Henry, and a house in a field inside an apartment, and then being a teenager... shocking hell. But, keeping his eyes shut helped. Yes, there were colored blobs dancing across his vision now and the start of a fairly piercing headache, but if that was all he had to deal with, then that was fine.

"I'm going to keep my eyes closed," he said, looking round at Darcy even with his eyes shut, and then he covered his eyes with his free hand. "You're in the driving seat, so don't walk me into too many walls," he added with a little smirk.

***

Darcy frowned a little as his friend closed his eyes and seemed to be struggling for a moment - emotionally, physically, perhaps both. Darcy wasn’t always the best at reading those situations, but no matter. He was able to offer practical help, and that part he was fine for.

"Yes, I think that is a good idea, and I shall try my very best," his expression softened, and he started to carefully lead him across the foodcourt, which took a little bit of concentration, and headed for one of the elevators.

"Hmm. Funny. I was just thinking how you led me into one of these monstrous things when I first arrived. Sopping wet and rather moody."

***

"I had to explain how it worked, and then I drank a pint of whiskey afterwards," Miguel replied, a small smile on his lips even though the memory involved a shocking horse. He walked where Darcy led him, but at the same time, he carefully ran through some basic equations in his head - he knew Darcy would get him home, he knew there would be minimal bumping into walls, he knew things would be fine, but he always hated it when his stupid eyes did this (At least this time, it wasn’t Dan’s psycho hotel actively trying to blind him, but still). Crunching numbers in his head kept thoughts at bay, kept him calmer.

"Did I miss anything exciting? Alien invasions, doors to strange new worlds, a new flavor of latte at Bucky’s?" he asked, as they paused for a brief moment and then stepped into the elevator when the doors chimed.

He could hear the faint noises that the elevator controls made while Darcy selected the glyph for the floor his apartment was on, and leaned back against the wall. "I should give you your gift as well. I doubt small me or teenager me handed one over," he said, looking over to where he could hear Darcy breathing, enhanced hearing coming into play.