InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Always."

Monica Rambeau (lightbased) wrote in valloic,
@ 2024-10-19 17:57:00

Entry tags:

!: action/thread/log, marvel: carol danvers, marvel: monica rambeau

Carol & Monica

WHAT: They have their weekly catchup session which includes Vallo's latest hijinks
WHERE: A diner that serves burgers and shakes
WHEN: Today
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Complete

“I’m hoping it fixes itself like the situation with you, but we probably have enough magical brains to sort it out if it doesn’t. And if we don’t— Maybe Vallo will decide we’ve outlived our amusement factor and toss us back out.”

Burgers and shakes had become a weekly thing ever since Monica had conned Carol into it when Vallo had turned her into Carol's eleven-year-old niece rather than her actual age. The standing date had proven to be one more step in healing their relationship, with Monica's resistance fading away. Maybe Vallo did some wacky things sometimes, but it had continuously pushed them in the right direction. Monica did actually appreciate that. But today, as she sat down in a booth with her food, she looked over at her aunt. "Alright, Aunt Carol, what gives? Is it this memory thing that's turned into a fiasco? Half my students claimed they forgot there was a quiz this morning, trying to take advantage of it." She rolled her eyes but then turned her focus back to Carol while snagging a fry from her tray. Carol was admittedly a little more spaced out than usual, idling her fries through a pool of ketchup while lost in thought. She was still figuring out how best to handle the situation with Valkyrie and whether it was worth revealing to Monica and Kamala. She was confident it would be temporary—as much Vallo things were—and her instinct was to just deal on her own. And, in all honesty, it wasn’t going badly. She had tried to play it cool when it first happened, but that had quickly fallen apart. Val was receptive to what Carol told her and seemed to feel their connection just as strongly. But the loss of her memories was a blow, and no matter how much Carol wanted to pretend it didn’t impact everything, there was no way it couldn’t. Not completely. She popped a fry into her mouth just as Monica called her out, and her shoulders slumped in defeat. She could blow it off and brush everything under the rug, but no. She was trying to improve her relationship with Monica, and cutting her out of her life wasn’t the way to do that. If anything, the progress they’d made would be eviscerated. Despite the bitterness that lived inside Carol after how badly Vallo had screwed her, she still did her best to make sure the relationships she did still flourished as much as possible. “Yeah,” she admitted with a sigh. “Val got hit with it. She doesn’t remember pretty much anything that could connect us. She doesn’t even remember getting off Sakaar.” It was wild to Monica that Carol hadn't led with this, hadn't said anything about it until asked directly, but she didn't comment on that, at least not out loud. Her face was expressive enough to show her surprise. "Damn," she said instead, sympathetically. "How's that going?" “Fine?” Carol replied but it came out more questioning, unsure. “If I didn’t know she had no idea who I was, it wouldn’t seem that different. She’s still…Val.” She took a sip from her shake, an amused smirk on her lips. “She came out for breakfast yesterday morning and said, ‘Nice place.’” Monica raised a brow at that Fine? and then sipped her milkshake, considering Carol. "Think this will be over in a day or two? Or are we actually going to need some magic users to figure out what the hell that coven did to undo it?" The unspoken question hung in the air of what if they couldn't figure it out? But surely someone would. With as widespread as this was, every magic user in Vallo was working on it, it seemed. "And how are you doing? Vallo really seems to be messing with you or the people you care about. Maybe that's just a side effect of being here so long but…" Her voice trailed off. Her aunt had been through some shit, and still never showed anything but concern for her, when she'd suddenly been eleven years old. Carol would put everyone else first, so Monica was going to put her aunt first. “Vallo messes with everyone. I don’t think I’m anything special in that regard,” Carol replied with a shrug. There were times her thinking was the opposite—where everything felt like a personal slight, another gut punch in what felt like a long series of them—but not now. She was working hard to keep it that way. She wasn’t special here, among dozens in the same strange hostage situation. “I’m hoping it fixes itself like the situation with you, but we probably have enough magical brains to sort it out if it doesn’t. And if we don’t—” Another shrug. “Maybe Vallo will decide we’ve outlived our amusement factor and toss us back out.” "Yeah… back to where my mom's not my mom?" Monica asked. "Not sure I'm in any rush to get back there, so pass. I mean, I'm curious as to what that's all about, but I don't know if I ever get to see you again back home. And if I do, does this carry over? Or am I still going back to where I was when I got here? You know, not trusting you. Because if I had to choose, I like this. Even if I can wake up one day and be eleven years old, not knowing where my mom is, it's not all that bad." Carol reached across the table to squeeze Monica’s hand. The perspective of newer-to-Vallo people was invaluable to her. She knew she was jaded to an extent. She’d been here so long and lost so much in the process. She used to love it here fully and see the benefits Monica was seeing. She had been able to feel human again here, make lasting friendships and relationships that she’d had so few of when she rambled around space putting out fires and civil wars. “You’re right. With all its faults, Vallo can still be a wonderful place,” she admitted. “And I know I’ll see you again at home. That’s not an if, kid, that’s a when. But I’m glad you’re here, anyway. And I’m glad I get to see you as much as I want.” Monica appreciated that reassurance, though she wasn't so sure it wasn't still an if. But it meant something that Carol knew she was out there somewhere and was convinced they'd find her. "So you said it's almost no different than if Val hadn't forgotten anything? How's that work?" she asked, changing the subject. “I don’t know,” Carol admitted, happy to accept the shift as she dipped another fry in ketchup, then in a bath of salt and pepper. “I’m attributing it to…no physical change? She’s still my Valkyrie. She still knows me somewhere in there, and I think that’s bleeding through a little. She may also just be giving me a huge amount of grace since she knows I know her name and know her on that level more than she remembers. It’s all just guesswork. A lot of what happens here is.” "You are sort of magnetic, Aunt Carol. When you're not busy trying to run or push people away." Monica knew she could be blunt sometimes, but she also wasn't afraid of speaking her mind around her aunt. "That explains why I clung to you as a child, at least," she said, amused just thinking about how she'd throw herself at her aunt, craving her attention. "Forced you to pay attention to whatever I was doing or making or working on… Totally different thing, but I guess it doesn't surprise me too much that someone who's in love with you could wake up not knowing who you are and still crave that proximity. You just make people feel valued. Cared for." Which was part of the reason Monica had held onto her bitterness at her aunt's absence for so long but was willing to reconcile now. Magnetic. Carol had to smile. She had been described in many ways over the years, but that one had always been only in her own head—a silent joke that she knew would earn her eye rolls from the people she loved most. Despite the small, well-deserved jab, it was a sweet sentiment to hear aloud, and she could see what Monica meant. She had always drawn people in and befriended them easily. And despite her tendency to self-isolate, she did like people. She cared for them. She valued them. She considered it part of why she was a good hero. “Maybe that’s it,” she agreed. “Either way, I’m watching her back and hoping everything sets itself back right. It did with you.” She smiled at Monica. “Not that I wouldn’t have enjoyed keeping my eleven-year-old bestie around, but I’m glad to have the real you back.” "Yeah, I bet Valkyrie is glad both now and before that she doesn't have an eleven-year-old hanging around vying for your attention constantly," Monica smirked, taking a sip of her shake. "Have you ever aged up or down here?" “Nope.” Carol shook her head. “I’ve been lucky in not usually getting directly hit with whatever’s going on. I’ve had a lot of people around me get hit with it, though. Last timeslip, Wanda was little for a while. About ten.” "Oh wow," Monica said, trying to picture Wanda at ten. She'd be in Vallo at least. From what she knew that was probably better, though she wasn't sure exactly of the witch's timeline. "What's the weirdest thing you've had to deal with here?" she asked as a follow-up. “Oh God,” Carol groaned, but she was smiling as she chomped down on her burger, giving herself an extra few moments to think. In three years, she had lived a debatably crazier life than the decades she’d spent out in space being Captain Marvel. There was too much to pick from, and some she still wasn’t quite ready to share. “Oh!” The thought popped into her head, and she felt stupid it hadn’t been higher up the list. “So, when Strange was still here, we were close. And I decided I wanted him to teach me magic, for some reason.” She wrinkled her nose, clearly unimpressed with her past self’s choices. “You can probably guess I screwed it up, and it backfired, and… Stephen and I ended up body-swapped. It couldn’t be fixed until I undid it, and boy, did I hate those three days.” When Monica wasn't asking questions, she was busy eating, but at Carol's declaration that she spent three days body-swapped with Doctor Strange? She lowered the burger back down to her tray and stared at Carol. "I'm sorry, what?" she asked, looking both horrified and amused. She blinked at her aunt a few times and then shook her head. "Now that sounds bizarre. Not to mention, I can't imagine him as you either. And no offense to Strange, or maybe some, but there are plenty of more attractive men out there that I'd rather find myself as if that absolutely had to happen." Carol lit up with surprise and laughed at that declaration. She grinned across the table at Monica, kicking gently at her niece’s shin beneath the table. “Monica, that is fully offensive. Don’t be cruel,” she chastised her teasingly. “Stephen obviously wasn’t my type, but he was my best friend here for a long time. I didn’t enjoy being in his body by any stretch, but he was patient with the situation, even though I kept bitching and moaning about a problem I’d caused.” Monica gave her aunt a shrug. "I'm just saying, Aunt Carol. If I were a man for three days, I rather be Falcon or Captain America, or hell, even Star-Lord… before I was Doctor Strange. I'm sure his personality more than makes up for his looks though." She smirked, knowing that she was being entirely shallow but not caring. “Eh,” Carol chuckled. She knew Stephen was an acquired taste, but she’d just happened to acquire him. Losing him had been a blow, but losing Wanda had been a bigger one. Stephen had disappeared two years ago, and it was significant, but with all of her people still around her, it was manageable. Losing Wanda this year on top of the surfeit she’d already suffered had sucked much, much more. “That was self-inflicted, though,” she continued. “I think the worst Vallo has ever done to me was show me something I couldn’t really have.” She didn’t elaborate on that, but she knew Monica was smart enough to make her own leaps in logic—and they would be close enough to the truth without Carol’s input. "What's that?" Monica asked, her tone softer and more serious. She had some guesses, but she rather not assume when she could just ask. Carol resisted the urge to sigh, pushing her cleaned-off plate off toward the end of the table to the waitress to clear. She had hesitated to talk about this with Monica. She still hesitated to talk about it with Valkyrie, too, but there was no sense holding back. “Those timeslips showed us our futures, too,” she explained, though she was reasonably sure Monica knew that already. “And I really believed mine would be with Emmeline. We saw it, but now—” She made a gesture with her hand that signified the poof; Emmeline was gone. “Everything’s changed.” "That does sound cruel," Monica agreed. "Though I think perspective plays into it," she added thoughtfully. "I mean, it's worse for you because you were left here without her. But if I knew I didn't have anything to go home to, having this life for as long or as short as I could, to be able to find someone to fall in love with and envision a future with? I don't know. That's a gift. Even that way too short time with my mom was a gift I'd never give back." She shrugged. "But that's a lot easier for someone on the outside of it all to say." “I don’t regret any of it,” Carol assured her. “You’re right. I didn’t get to keep it forever or make sure things turned out right, but I still appreciate every moment I had with Emme. It feels cruel on the bad days, but on good ones, I still have those memories. I couldn’t regret that if I tried.” She met Monica’s gaze. “Same with Val or with you and your mom. I know I’ve never been perfect, but I loved every moment I had with you all. And I love that I get a burger date with you weekly now. I couldn’t have asked for better.” Monica nodded. "Better late than never is absolutely true, Aunt Carol. Maybe I didn't get what I wanted back then. And it might have taken me a while even to be willing to forgive you. But I wouldn't trade this now. I'm getting the relationship I've always wanted with you and I don't ever want to take that for granted or dismiss it, you know?" It was as close as she'd ever come to fully leaving the past behind, allowing them to really move forward. Carol grinned. “I appreciate that, kid. And I won’t make you regret it down the line, I promise.” She polished off her shake and took out her wallet, pulling out a wad of bills to place on top of the check that had arrived while they chatted. “How’s it going at home with Ms. Marvel?” "Good," Monica smiled. "I'm glad she moved in. That place is too large for one person. And in spite of everything about this place, Kamala's like you. She's pretty resilient." She eyed where Carol had put more than enough on top of the bill to cover both of them and rolled her eyes, but without any heat, and then mouthed, 'Thank you.' It was almost a ritual at this point, her aunt treating her on these weekly dinner dates. "We should all do dinner at my place soon. Before or after Valkyrie gets her memories back. Tell her we're you're kids," she teased. "See how she handles that." Carol laughed. “You know what, that sounds fun as hell. We’ll make it happen in the next day or two. She was astounded to hear she had two whole jobs coming straight off her alcoholic days.” "It's a good thing one of those jobs is with you," Monica laughed. "And the other one is what she's naturally good at. Otherwise, that much 'responsibility' might be totally disappointing to learn about." She flashed Carol a grin as she stood from the booth. "I'll check with Kamala and see what her schedule is like, and then tell her what we're doing."