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His earliest memory was of endless black, scattered with an ocean of tiny lights, too huge to see it all in a single glance, too many to count. It was blurry at best, and what he remembered most about it, years later, was how he felt rather than what he saw. Arms around him, holding him close, gentle breath in his ear as his mother whispered reassurances into it, trying very hard not to sound afraid, though he knew that she was. She kissed his hair, tried to pull him back to look at him, but he set free a soft wail that she hastily shushed, instead allowing him to crawl urgently back to lean his chin on her shoulder. He stared out the window of the ship for a long time; Earth was below them, getting smaller and smaller, and the fascinating emptiness of space was all around them. Why would he want to look at his mother instead of a sight like this?
He heard her whisper, in a voice choked by nostalgia and something he would later learn was grief, "You really love space, don't you."
He did. But space was frightening, too, and his tiny arms tightened around her neck. The ship didn't belong to them, and they weren't alone, but gazing out at the stars and his own planet meant that he didn't have to look at the green-skinned monsters who had taken them from their home in the dark of the night, even if he could hear them growling in an incomprehensible language just a few feet away.
His mother had spoken that language, when they'd first attacked. Stood in front of him, arms spread, her voice a low, guttural growl that had made her sound like someone else, someone he'd never met before. But when she'd turned back to him, when the monsters were arguing with each other instead of her, she'd been herself again, gentle and soft and smiling sadly. He'd hugged her and cried and she'd carried him out with them, to the streets, to the park, to the ship.
To space.
He hadn't cried since then, and she kept telling him she was proud of him for that, so he let the sky take away as much of his fear as it could. He asked her, once, when they would go home, and she only murmured that they would be home soon, so he curled up and fell asleep on her shoulder.
When he woke up again, they were walking, the creatures escorting them down an unfamiliar hallway filled with more of them, and all of them were staring at him. He stared back for a while, frightened and fascinated, and when he turned to ask his mother what was going on, he discovered in her place a green-skinned creature that had stolen her face.
He screamed then, long and loud, struggling in her grip, as she gasped in his mother's voice, "Teddy, Teddy, what's wrong, don't be scared, I'm right here-" and then she was his mother again, pale and blonde and beautiful. He touched her face, sniffling, wiped his nose, and let her gather him up in her arms again. The creatures around them stared even more, then, but he didn't care anymore. She was there with him, and he felt safe.
They were taken to a warm, elegant bedroom, sweet-scented and colourful, and the monsters left them alone for a while there. His mother set him down and let him toddle around for a short time, exploring their new location, and he was content to do that until a door opened behind him and a soft gasp was heard. He turned, curiosity piqued again by the noise, and spotted another monster in the room.
She was different, he noticed immediately, even as he shrunk back and gripped his mother's shirt. She was beautiful, lacking the harsh features of the soldiers, her long dark hair falling in gentle waves around her face. The way she looked at him wasn't the same as all of the others- no cold contempt or distrust, no loathing. Nor was it empty. She looked surprised, at first, and then stricken, and then relieved, hands lifting to cover her mouth, her deep green eyes suddenly damp. She stepped towards them, whispering a word he didn't understand, and he felt his mother press up against his back, keeping him from moving away from her.
"It's alright, baby," she whispered, and then, louder, facing the alien woman who had almost reached them, "I've brought him, Your Highness. Your servant has returned to bring you your son."
He didn't understand why she'd said that, nor did he understand why it made the strange woman - a princess, he decided, because she looked like one and that's what you call royalty - begin to cry, dropping to her knees in front of them and tentatively reaching out towards him, murmuring that same strange word - "Dorrek, dorrek" - again and again. He shied away from her touch at first, protesting his mother's urging, but eventually relented and let the alien touch him. Her hands were soft and gentle, and when she kissed his forehead and hugged him to her chest he didn't feel like he was going to be eaten, even though she held him too tightly for his liking. The woman hugged his mother as well, shoulders shaking, and although he didn't understand what was going on he could see in his mother's eyes that this woman was good, this woman was important. To both of them, somehow, and it was because of this that he allowed the woman to sit him in her lap and stroke his hair, though he only tolerated it as long as he could look at his mother at the same time.
When they had all calmed down enough, his mother gently touched his face, took his hand, and had him watch as she made the skin of her fingers turn green.
"I'm a shapeshifter, darling," she told him in a quiet tone, smiling at him, the flesh of her face rippling and changing colour, lines trailing down her chin, and this time he wasn't afraid. "I can look like them when I must. And I know that you can, too."
He could. He knew he could; there had been a number of times that he'd tried it in the last several months, growing his arms and legs to move faster than the other children on the playground, stretching his fingers to reach cookies on the table or the icing of his birthday cake. He hadn't known that she had realized it, though, and he felt stricken, as if he'd been caught doing those things now. Instead of getting angry, she pet his hair and told him that it was okay, that he'd done nothing wrong. That it was a gift, that it was wonderful. That it would save his life today.
"Can you change, dear? Can you do this for me now?"
He felt hands tighten slightly in his hair, not painful, but uncomfortable, and it was only when his mother repeated the request and took both his hands in hers that he complied, concentrating very hard. It took some time, and it was very hard, but when he turned his face green and created a few bumps on his chin his mother smiled so brightly that he knew it was worth the effort. She was proud of him, and he loved it when she was proud of him.
She opened her mouth to speak, then, exchanging a glance with the other woman, but then the monsters returned, calling them from the door, and there was no time for talk any longer. They draped him in a stuffy coat and hood that covered most of his body and his hair, and when he tried to remove it he was scolded sharply. His mother didn't carry him this time; he remained in the arms of the dark-haired alien princess, and his mother walked a step behind, so he watched her over the woman's shoulder. She wasn't smiling anymore.
They were taken to an enormous hall after that, full of booming voices and green faces, all of them making those same strange garbled noises. "Like them, baby," his mother whispered, "Look like them. Repeat it for me, sweetheart. 'I want to look like them.' " He was afraid, but he wanted her to smile again, so when he was carried forward and shown off to an old, cruel-looking monster in red robes and a crown, his face was as green as theirs, his mouth moving to silently echo the phrase over and over to remind himself. Still, his mother didn't smile. He felt cheated.
There was more talking, then more arguing, then more shouting than he had ever heard in his life. The woman holding him fought long and fierce, clutching him close to her, and he cried quietly in his hood, hiding himself because he knew he couldn't look like them while he was crying. He wanted to be with his mother, he wanted to be away from this awful place, he wanted to go home. He didn't want to be with these cold people and their angry noises and green skin. Space wasn't wonderful anymore. Space was dark and frightening and it kept separating him from his only family. He reached for his mother several times, but all she did was shake her head, arms flat at her side, refusing to touch him.
When the arguing finally stopped, and the room settled into silence, a single word was called. The woman holding him inhaled sharply, and he watched as his mother stepped forward to face the crowned man, no longer able to look at him. Her back was straight, shoulders lifted, the very image of strength, and that strength fueled him, gave him the bravery to resist the urge to try and climb down. As much as he wanted to go to her, he had to trust that she knew what was best for him. They spoke for a while. He grew bored and let his eyes wander around the throne room. He'd never seen one before, not outside of picture books and Disney movies, but this one looked as if it was falling apart.
He was fine until the woman holding him shrieked.
He jumped in her arms, startled, and wriggled to see what was going on. His mother was barely visible now, surrounded by a group of aliens. The princess rushed towards them, but someone stepped forward to restrain her, and his eyes blurred as they filled with tears. He saw, through the crowd, his mother turn towards him, smile gently. Mouth something familiar, something he eventually recognized as I love you. And then she screamed as one of the monsters stepped forward to set her on fire.
It was his earliest memory, he would recognize years later, because the image of the woman who raised him from infancy burning to death in front of him would be forever ingrained in his mind.
And it was also, naturally, the last day anyone ever called him Teddy.
--
The Taming of the Skrull
A YARBB Challenge
By Akai
--
Planetary invasions were always interesting to watch. As Dorrek VIII surveyed the attack on Earth from the bridge on his ship, arms crossed and smiling in satisfaction, he thought to himself what most of the crew had assured him since they set off from their world: he could live here. He could definitely live here. The humans weren't that much of an annoyance compared to the inhabitants of many other worlds. It was just too bad that there were so many of them, or they might have been able to live in peace.
...
Well. Relative peace, anyway. They would be a part of the Skrull Empire, after all. His grandfather would probably flip his throne if he heard that, but thankfully the old man's demise meant that Dorrek could do as he pleased. Admire the handsome Earthlings, for example.
Speaking of which, he noticed below that one particular young team was fighting the invasion nearby, clad in the unusual, multi-coloured attire characteristic of the world's heroes. Super heroes, they called themselves. How cute. They were impressive enough, he supposed; his own father had been one, or so his mother told him - it's where half of his powers come from. And while being half-Kree meant that he had certain disadvantages, socially, it also meant that he had powers other Skrulls did not. And that was reason enough for them to respect him, and for him in turn to respect those super heroes.
It wasn't just their abilities he often admired, either. He had a fondness for their bodies - as dull and changeless as they could be - for the naturally occurring colours of their skin, the way they could change because of the environment rather than conscious thought, the way they changed themselves with technology and science instead of abilities with which they were born. It was both primitive and fascinating.
The "hero" he noticed in particular on this particular day was beautiful in both ability and appearance; some might consider him to be plain, with dark hair and eyes, body sheathed in black, the only colour on him a tattered red cloak. He was pale and small and altogether insignificant, and yet...
...And yet power seemed to radiate off his body in endless waves, blue fire in his eyes, lightning crackling dangerously between his fingers. He hovered above his team and created shields to keep them safe, energy blasts to watch their backs, enhancements to make them stronger. Dorrek had never in his life witnessed anyone so versatile, and rather than outrage at the defeat of his comrades, he couldn't help but feel pleased each time a Skrull failed to take the mage down.
It was just too breathtaking a display for him to want to see it end.
"Kl'rt," he called, summoning the Super Skrull who had been loyal to him since early childhood, "Who is that?"
There was a prolonged pause as Kl'rt followed his gaze, zeroing in on the soldier of Earth. "A member of the team known as 'Young Avengers', my lord. His code name is Wiccan. Our intelligence shows that he and the speedster are the children of the Scarlet Witch."
"Wiccan," Dorrek echoed, watching the battle thoughtfully as it raged on. "I see."
Suddenly the invasion of Earth didn't seem half as interesting as a single, exceptional young human and his team.
--
...So, they lost. Badly. The Avengers managed to free themselves, the hidden Skrulls were discovered, and the short-lived war was over. Rather than feeling angry, seated upon his chair on the main battleship as it limped away from Earth, Dorrek was merely disappointed. His heart hadn't been in it since noticing the mage's group, and the fact that they were currently flying away from him rather than towards, or - alternatively, perhaps even preferably - taking him with them irritated the young prince immensely. He hadn't even met him. How pathetic was he to be so caught up in an Earthling he knew nothing about?
Kl'rt attempted to distract him - repeatedly - but it had yet to get him anywhere, so eventually he gave up. Nothing his soldiers did or said seemed to drag their prince out of his funk. Losing, they assumed, was just too much of a shock.
Little did they know.
Maybe it was his youth, maybe it was hormones, maybe it was the fact that he'd been nothing but obedient for the past decade, following orders, allowing himself to be taught the ways of the Skrulls, bowing to his betters and giving orders to his underlings. He took his responsibilities seriously and asked for nothing.
Not this time.
He stole a smaller ship that night, leaving at the very least a note for Kl'rt to panic over later, breaking probably a dozen rules and not caring about a single one. He flew right back to Earth, cloaking the ship once he got close, of course- so soon after an invasion, the Avengers would be watching the skies, and he wasn't a fool.
Finding the young man he'd been watching was, unfortunately, the tricky part. It was the middle of the afternoon when he arrived, but he wasn't able to start looking for the human for at least another hour; that time was spent doing something he hadn't done intentionally in years.
He shifted into his Kree form.
For a long moment he stared as his reflection in the ship's window, lips tightly pursed. The lines on his chin were gone, wings retracted, his skin a pale flesh tone instead of green, his hair the gentle golden shade he'd inherited from his father. Finally, after a brief consideration, he shifted himself a different uniform, one that more or less matched that of his target. He'd been trained for infiltration since childhood, so once he finished choosing an appearance he felt was suitable, he ventured to a library to research for a while. The on-line function known as 'Google' on their computerized device gave him the chance to search for 'Wiccan' but the results were... generally not helpful. Spells and spices and pagan rituals that had nothing to do with superheroes. When he questioned a service woman she gave him an odd look and suggested he try adding 'Young Avengers' to his search, which helped.
He read everything.
By the time they kicked him out - while he swallowed indignant protests, since he wasn't a prince here - it was evening, which was the best time to spot the Young Avengers at work, or so he'd read. Columbus Circle and the Avengers Mansion were also cited to be good places to start, so he located the area, thinking intently on the way of one question in particular: how does one attract the attention of a super hero?
The solution was obvious, of course. Crime.
Apparently New York was a prime location for this, too. Within moments of turning down a shady-looking alley he was accosted by a scruffy-looking man who smelled of various rank substances holding a primitive firearm. He played along with what he thought was appropriate - backed away, bargained, pretended to be afraid - but when he tried to gather more attention for himself by calling for help, the man shot him, which meant that Dorrek had to punch him. Disguised or not, you don't just shoot a Skrull prince. The scuffle was brief, but somehow managed to earn him attention he didn't want, namely the alleyway neighbours, and he barely managed to get two words into his feigned plea for mercy before they attacked, which meant more fighting, and...
...well, it wasn't exactly what he'd planned. He was surrounded by unconscious bodies and casually punching the last gang member in the face when a bolt of lightning struck the nearest wall, and he looked up with widened eyes to spot the offender. Him.
"Excuse me," the human spoke up, floating towards him on a gentle wave of blue fire. "Just what do you think you're doing?"
Dorrek glanced over at the man he had pinned to the wall, who groaned. He dropped him, turning to face the target of his affections with a calm expression. "...He shot me." A pause, as it occurred to him that most humans were neither invulnerable nor possessed healing abilities, and then added, "Shot at me. I was just walking."
Wiccan landed and glanced around, eyes narrowing as he pulled a bandanna off one of the men's heads and lit another fire in his palm to see it more clearly. "...This is a local gang. They're... really dangerous. You took this many on by yourself?"
Dorrek paused, mind racing. How does he- how can he-
-wait. Oh.
"I'm actually... ah. I have super strength. " He caught sight of Wiccan's brows lifting, as the news and his appearance became apparent in the light; clearly the improvements he'd made to his looks in order to make himself more appealing as a human had been a wise decision, if the way the teen's eyes wandered up and down his body (in a way that he probably hoped was subtle) was any evidence. Dorrek added, hoping to gain some rapport, "You are Wiccan, are you not? Of the Young Avengers?"
It took a moment, but Wiccan shook off his surprise and nodded. "So you know about me- but I've never seen you before. Do you have a name?"
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Thought for a moment. Dorrek was too obviously wrong for Earth, or at the very least too foreign, and he had no super hero codename, either. From what he'd read, secret identities were important. One more thing he hadn't really considered before running off.
On the other hand, he'd spent the first few years of his life here on Earth, and he'd been given an Earth name, too. Over the years he had come to accept Dorrek as his true name, of course, but...
Wiccan was still waiting, so finally he said, "You can call me Teddy."
"Teddy," Wiccan echoed, and there was an ironic lilt in his voice that Dorrek didn't understand. "Well, Teddy, I'd like to talk to you, but we shouldn't stay here. Come on, take my hand."
Pleased by his success, Dorrek accepted the offer, and the mage flew them up to the roof of the building, setting him down lightly and landing beside him. Dorrek was reluctant to let go at first, but he didn't want to earn himself suspicion before he was even given a chance to talk to the human, so he shuffled back a few steps, hands resting at his side. He did his best to focus on Wiccan rather than the way his skin seemed to tingle with residual lightning.
Wiccan seemed to be away from his team, which meant that they had perhaps separated for the evening. Teenage Earthlings generally had some form of education in the morning, if he recalled correctly, which explained why he would be heading home.
...If he played his cards right, perhaps they could go together.
"So you have powers," Wiccan called for his attention. "Are you on a team, too? Or do you work solo?"
"...Solo, for the moment." Inwardly Dorrek cursed himself for not coming up with a decent background. "I have not done much crime-fighting yet, so..." Think, think, think- "If you have any advice, it would be. Appreciated."
Wiccan quirked a brow, though at what, Dorrek couldn't tell, but he accepted the answer nonetheless. "Oh, uh, sure. I'm not an expert or anything, but I'll give it a shot." He paused, then added, "I was going to head home, but... want to patrol while we talk? We can multi-task or something. I want to see what else you can do."
The way he shuffled awkwardly and occasionally looked away made him seem almost shy, a trait that was normally not appreciated in Skrull culture, but Dorrek found it oddly endearing. The way his cheeks glowed with a faint shade of pink was puzzling, but not in a bad way, admittedly. And his offer was more than Dorrek had expected right off the bat; pleasantly surprised, he smiled.
"I would be delighted."
--
For a while, it went very well. Wiccan was as enjoyable to work with as he was to look at - determined, fierce, witty (another pleasant surprise) - and over the course of the evening that followed, everything was perfect. Wiccan believed him to be a mutant, a human, and Dorrek was just fine with that. And the longer they patrolled together, the more Wiccan smiled. Sometimes there was a culture clash that forced him to backpedal - such as some of the strange references that Dorrek didn't understand, but those moments passed soon enough when he and Wiccan shared a mutual embarrassment about it and moved on to something else. Dorrek committed each subject that the mage rambled about to memory, to research it later, though; super heroes, comic books, something about spaceships and "vampires", whatever they were. It was fascinating, all of it, and the more he was told, the more alluring the Earth seemed to be. Mankind was a strange culture, sure, but the longer he stayed in Wiccan's company, the more he wondered whether the Skrull Empire would really benefit if they were wiped out.
He tried to keep the focus on Wiccan - his life, his interests, his family - and while the mage was careful to avoid making it too personal, he was still willing to share plenty about himself. Dorrek was surprised that he had even a modicum of interest in such menial information; was he really that smitten? More importantly, if he was, did he care?
Whatever the answer, the whole experience was just too perfect. Which is probably why, in the middle of a foray with another group of gang members some time after 11PM, he took a hefty blow to the back of the head and went down, snarling. To a Skrull - even a halfling - it was nothing, but it was enough of an insult to his pride that he pushed himself upright with a roar and lunged at the offender, towering over the suddenly-terrified man and sending him flying into a wall. He turned to face Wiccan, a satisfied smirk on his face, but it vanished when he noticed the expression the mage was wearing.
"...Wiccan? What-"
"You're a Skrull," Wiccan cut him off, his tone accusatory as he took a cautious step backwards.
Dorrek paused, glancing down at himself; if he hadn't been green, he'd have gone stark white at what he saw. He'd transformed instinctively, his body shifting into the bulky, armored version of himself, the guise he generally wore into battle and the only form in which he'd been seen publicly for most of his life. Hadn't even thought about it.
He screwed up.
"Wiccan, I can explain," he tried to find an excuse, grasping desperately at straws, but he had none. No shapeshifter with half a brain would take on the form of a Skrull so soon after an invasion, and he could already see the betrayed look on Wiccan's face. Nothing he said now would fix it. The trust he'd earned was gone.
"Why are you still here?" Wiccan demanded, tearing him from his unhappy realization, blue fire blazing to life over gloved fists. He made no move to attack, but he was obviously on edge. "The war's over- you were supposed to leave Earth! Are you infiltrating again!?"
"No- wait-" Dorrek has to fight back the unfamiliar urge to beg, swallowing past the lump in his throat, ignoring the voice in his head becrying his failure. He reached out to try and grasp some part of the human - his wrist, his shoulder, even a bit of that cape - but Wiccan backed off again, so he tried with words again. "I'm here alone! I'm not part of the invasion!"
Anymore, that voice reminded him, but he stifled it.
"Yeah right." The mage was clearly not fooled, and Dorrek really couldn't blame him. "Who are you, really?"
"I- I'm just- this isn't-" Words. Coherency. He used to have them. "Wiccan, I beg of you-"
"No- stay away from me!" The words were suddenly commanding, and the half-Skrull found himself unable to move, despite how badly he wanted to approach the young human and keep him from leaving before he could explain. "This is some kind of trap! Stay away from the Young Avengers, got it!?"
Resisting the spell, still desperate to stop the mess he'd made, Dorrek tried to take a step, but with a burst of blue light Wiccan was gone, tearing off into the night sky.
The prince watched him go, feeling lost and very, very alone all of a sudden. That wasn't how he'd wanted to night to end.
--
The first meeting was a bust (understatement of the century), but it hadn't killed Dorrek's desire or his determination - if anything, if only made him want Wiccan more. He spent an hour in front of the ship's mirror that night, imitating Wiccan's appearance, shifting his face, matching expressions, smiling. He had such a nice smile.
He jerked off, just once. Just to see what it would look like. It really, really did not help quell that desire like he hoped it would. Dammit.
Afterwards, he changed back into "Teddy", and stared at himself for a while. He tried subtle shifts again, making himself more handsome, more muscular, more... whatever he believed would be attractive. Briefly he attempted a girl's body, but the sight of his own form like that made him uncomfortable, like it was more alien than he was. His Skrull form was not "natural" in that he had to focus to keep himself transformed, and the female body was even more so.
Besides, Wiccan had shown interest in his human form, if what he'd sensed was correct; he was good at observing people, both as a shapeshifter and as a leader of his race, and he'd noticed certain reactions in his time with the mage that encouraged Dorrek's pursuit of him. Without those impressions, he might have convinced himself to just go home. But there had been interest, attraction.
Until he'd changed into a Skrull.
He frowned, transforming into his alien form. Was he repulsive like this? The form was that of an enemy, he knew - Wiccan's response made that much obvious. But was that really all there was to it? He didn't want to believe that Wiccan was so shallow. Maybe it was merely wishful thinking, but he couldn't shake it. It made no sense. Shapeshifters could be anything, anyone they wanted. And sure, it took focus to keep it consistent, but he could be human if he wanted. If Wiccan wanted. His true form was passably human, after all.
So that, then, was the real question: what did Wiccan want? It wasn't until that moment that Dorrek realized he had no idea whatsoever.
The next day he returned to the library to research once more, this time focusing on the subjects Wiccan had discussed at length. He poured over tales of what mankind believed space to be like, what aliens did, what was popular. He read excerpts of books and comics, whatever he could find. Arming himself with topics and knowledge that seemed like it would appeal to the mage, he felt more confident in his chances - that he could turn this around somehow, make it work in his favour. Really, what surprised him was how much he enjoyed it. Sure, the vampires seemed a little too strange, and he avoided comics that involved the shared history of Earth and the Skrulls or Kree, but for the most part it was... fun. He didn't feel that way very often.
That night he tracked down the Young Avengers while they patrolled, following them through the city streets and listening to whatever conversation he could hear. There was talk of the chosen route, the quietness of the neighbourhood, even a bit about issues they were having at school. He strained for names, but they were careful, and none were revealed. What surprised him the most, truth be told, was that Wiccan didn't seem to have said anything about their chance encounter the night before. Did they already know? Or was he keeping it a secret? And if so, why? He had so many questions to ask and no way to do it yet.
Not knowing the mage's name was going to make his life more difficult, but he was fully prepared to rise to the challenge. Which is why, when the group dispersed, he summoned his wings and took to the sky to follow Wiccan home. And it was there, crouched and tucked away behind a billboard, that he saw Wiccan's civilian self for the first time.
...Nice.
He dropped down into an empty alley before more than a few moments could pass, and after a hasty shift, a beautiful, blonde-haired woman followed Billy into the building and right into the elevator. He had no idea what he was doing or where this would take him, but he had to try. At this point, it really did feel like he had no choice. At the very least, his deception proved one thing - Wiccan showed zero interest in the form he'd chosen, offering a polite nod and little else, focused almost entirely on his handheld device and the music blaring from the buds in his ears. It was a good thing, too - Dorrek honestly had no idea how he'd respond if he'd been asked a question.
When they reached their destination (the 11th floor, specifically), Dorrek feigned a quick fix of his shoes as they parted ways, and looked up just in time to watch the mage disappear through the door of apartment #1116.
He had a home location. Excellent. Now to put his research into play.
An hour or so later and one more transformation brought him back to the 11th floor, this time from the outside, peering cautiously into each bedroom window to try and find his target. There was one empty room, then two more with sleeping boys that vaguely resembled Wiccan but were not him. Brothers, presumably. Finally he found what he was looking for, and it was with a satisfied smile that he slid the mercifully-unlocked window open and climbed into the room. The mage stirred, but didn't wake, so Dorrek shuffled closer and sat down in the computer chair by the desk to watch.
...And it squeaked. Loudly.
He inhaled sharply, and for a moment he seemed to be safe, but then Wiccan stirred once more and without further warning sat up, blinking blearily in the darkness. Dorrek held his breath, hoping desperately that he'd just go back to sleep. It was so quiet that he could hear the clock in the corner knocking away each passing second.
Tick, tick, tick...
Light flared by the bed, and Dorrek thought he was about to be blasted with magic, but after a few seconds of squinting adjustment he realized it was just the bedside lamp. And Wiccan was staring at him, eyes narrowed.
"What," he said slowly, teeth clenched, "Are you doing in my bedroom?"
Dorrek swallowed hard. Suddenly his reasoning didn't seem particularly good. "I. Ah. I beg your pardo-"
"I didn't ask for excuses, I asked why you're here!" And suddenly Wiccan's hands were ablaze as if on fire, an erratic light that cast a curiously menacing glare over the human's slim features.
"...The library," Dorrek finally, finally admitted reluctantly. Wiccan raised a brow, and he added, "There is a popular book series regarding 'vampires' you mentioned, and reviews on the 'internet' stated-"
"Oh god," Wiccan hissed, the magic fizzling out as he bent forward to smack his head against the bedsheets, "You took socializing cues from Twilight? You're joking. Tell me you're joking."
Dorrek frowned; he didn't appreciate his efforts to conform to Earth's customs being mocked. "I do not joke, Wiccan. Generally." There have been exceptions, of course, but as a rule, princes were supposed to avoid being silly.
"You have got to be the worst Skrull I've ever met," Billy muttered.
That didn't make the offended feeling go away any faster, and Dorrek scowled. This was becoming troublesome. "How many Skrulls have you met?" he growled.
Wiccan's expression and tone were flat as he replied, "A few hundred, give or take, just last week. You know, when you invaded us?"
Dorrek winced. "I apologize for that. I was not in command."
"I never asked for an apology, and you still haven't explained what you're doing here!" Wiccan flung aside his blankets, revealing shorts, slim bare legs, and the area of his body that made Dorrek squirm uncomfortably in his seat. "Are you here to try and take my place, like the Skrulls did with the Avengers? Because I can tell you that won't go well for you." The magic was back again, beautiful and vaguely terrifying.
"I... I'm here..." It still sounded foolish, no matter how he put it, so he finally just blurted out, "I am here for you, Wiccan! I... find you... desirable."
Wiccan stared.
Dorrek shifted again, gaze dropping to the floor as he endured the scrutiny. An awkward silence filled the room.
"Desirable," the mage echoed. His voice sounded strained. "Now you have to be joking." When Dorrek merely glanced pointedly at him, he buried his face against his hands. "Okay, so if you're not joking, you must be crazy, then. You're gay? And into mutants?"
Dorrek huffed faintly; he could only tolerate so much blatant disrespect, even if the human - or, well, mutant - wasn't one of his underlings. It was really a matter of principle. "If you have something against an attraction to the males of your species-"
"No, I'm attracted to the males of my species," Wiccan snapped, exasperated. "You're a Skrull."
"A male Skrull," Dorrek countered. Not that it really mattered, since he could technically change that, but he had no desire to be female long-term. Really, what bothered him was the fact that it seemed that his fears had been confirmed- Wiccan didn't want to be with a Skrull.
"Yeah, well, I'm not attracted to people who try to blow up my hometown. You'd have better luck with Speed."
"I didn't-!" Dorrek stopped himself, because technically, yeah, he did. But it wasn't his idea. "The invasion was organized by the others, I had no choice."
"Oh yeah, that's very convincing. And what about now? Did they tell you to appear in the bedroom of underage witches and watch them sleep?" He paused, and then added, "Do you have any idea how creepy this is?"
He didn't, not really, but he was starting to get some very obvious hints. "I thought it was normal."
"It's not," Wiccan grumbled, dragging his hand down his face, distorting his features in a way that was oddly hilarious. "Trust me, it's not. Oh my god, I don't even know how to deal with this."
"William Kaplan!" They both jumped at the sudden voice beyond the door, followed by a sharp knock. "It's almost 1 in the morning, why is your light on?"
There was a pause as they both remained frozen in place, but when the knob started to turn, they both lurched- Dorrek towards the window, and Wiccan - William - to the door, calling out before it could open. "Hey- sorry! I thought I heard something and it woke me up." He glanced over his shoulder, scowling at the alien at his window as if debating something, and then added, "But it was just the wind. I'm going back to bed."
"...All right, honey, but the lights are off from now on. Good night."
"Good night, Mom." William listened to the retreating footsteps, edging back to the bed and shutting his lamp off, though he kept his eyes trained on the silhouette in the window the whole time. He sat back down on his bed, waiting, judging wordlessly.
"...So," Dorrek tried again, and for the first time since the conversation had begun, he was fighting back a smile, "William."
In the dark, the mage's scowl deepened. "If you have to use a name, it's Billy. But it doesn't make us friends. Especially when you haven't even given me yours, yet."
"I told you, it's Teddy."
"A Skrull named Teddy?"
...Well, okay, it wasn't exactly traditional. Dorrek paused uncomfortably, wanting to edge back to his seat, but feeling considerably safer at the window. He had no desire to be magicked elsewhere, all too aware of the boy's powers. "It wasn't... a lie," he finally replied, his voice quieter than before. It made Wic- Wil- Billy shoot him a cautiously inquisitive look. "My early years were spent here on Earth, in this city. I was given the human name 'Theodore', or 'Teddy'. When I was found and reunited with my true family, I took back the name of Dorrek VIII. Amongst the Skrulls, I am a prince."
He'd been hoping that his title might win him some points, but all it got him was an uplifted brow. The conversation was growing more and more surreal as time passed. "Well, Prince Dorrek VIII, I'm only going to give you one warning: if you do anything that could get my family or my teammates hurt, I'll make you regret it right before I send you back to your home world in a box."
"I've no intention of harming anyone, Wiccan," Dorrek retorted, arms crossing over his chest. This banter was both irritating and endearing, and as much as he would love to allow the rift to convince him to leave the planet by choice, he still felt a kinship to the human that he found impossible to shake. Was that first night going to haunt him forever? "My reason for being here remains true." He paused, and then added, in a softer voice, recalling the grief and the loss from years ago, "And for your information, my home world was devoured by Galactus a long time ago, along with my mother. Why do you think my race is so scattered and wanted Earth in the first place?"
Something about the words or the slight pang in his voice seemed to shut Wiccan up, if only for a moment or two. "...Okay, fine - no home world, and you want to... date, or whatever. But I'm still not interested, so you might as well leave."
"I will not," was Dorrek's swift reply. "I wish to prove that my intentions towards you and your world are pure. I think, if given the chance, you will find that we have much in common. Perhaps if I could be allowed to join your team for a while-"
"No!" Wiccan's eyes widened at his own vehemence, and he clapped a hand over his mouth, glancing warily at the door. "...No. That's totally out of the question. Look, I didn't tell them about you the first time, but this is-"
"Why?" Dorrek cut in, his own gaze scrutinizing, one hand gripping the window's ledge. The question that had been weighing on him so heavily all this time, the curious frustration of why they hadn't hunted him down like the invader he knows that he is. "Why didn't you tell them? I assumed you would do so immediately." In fact, he'd fully expected that he would have to move his ship to somewhere safer in order to avoid a confrontation with the entire team. He'd had the ship on high alert all night, only to be left alone entirely. He honestly couldn't find a reasonably explanation for this; if their roles had been reversed, Wiccan would have been attacked, captured, perhaps (or more likely) even killed. So why?
Wiccan seemed as much at a loss for an answer as he did, scuffing a hand uncomfortably through his hair and lowering his voice once more. If not for his alien hearing, it might've been too quiet to make out. "I... couldn't figure you out."
Dorrek blinked. "What?"
"Like I said-! I don't get why you just... helped me." Wiccan scowled, looking away for a moment before he hastily drew his attention back to the Skrull halfling, afraid to let down his guard even for a second. It saddened Dorrek a little, but he had no justification to complain. "You could have attacked me whenever you wanted, but you didn't. It's not like I think that I can trust you - I know I can't - but I don't think you're..."
"...An enemy?" Dorrek supplied after a pause, trying not to sound as hopeful as he felt.
Wiccan finally managed to avert his eyes without glancing back in a panic, and Dorrek considered it to be a small, personal success. He didn't answer the question, though. "You should leave," he said instead, his voice hushed. "Go back to your people. I'm sure they need their prince."
Dorrek didn't respond. They sat in uncomfortable silence for no less than ten seconds before the prince finally caved, ducking out the window and launching himself off the balcony to fly away before Wiccan could even turn his head. The mage was right, of course: he should leave. He doesn't belong here.
And yet, more than ever, he felt as if he had a very good reason to stay.
--
If Wiccan wasn't going to give him a chance, Dorrek decided, he would have to take things a step further, immerse himself in the mage's life so he could, at the very least, make an informed decision rather than one that is biased by a distaste for Skrulls. Which meant he had to somehow accomplish exactly what he'd suggested to Wiccan himself.
He had to join the Young Avengers.
The next day he followed Wiccan from his home to a good-sized warehouse a good distance south, Bishop Publishing, which turned out to be the Young Avengers Headquarters. He snuck around for some time, watching through windows and waiting for the group to leave for training, patrol, or to disperse entirely, but half the time it seemed as if they were just there to... socialize? Patriot (the leader) and Speed (Wiccan's twin) fought a great deal over either the television or one of the women (another Hawkeye, apparently), who joined them in the arguing sporadically. Wiccan himself preferred watching in the background, occasionally making commentary that Dorrek couldn't hear, while Stature and the synthezoid, Vision, were off on their own. It was an odd use of time, and to Dorrek, who'd had very little opportunity amongst his own people to indulge like this, it was... refreshing. And he knew it was practically a rebellion to think it, but the thought came to mind nonetheless.
His opportunity to approach them didn't come until some time later, prior to the afternoon meal, when Patriot left the group to step outside for a while. Wiccan had conveniently vanished further inside the building, so once the leader of the group exited with one final, snippy comment flung back at the speedster, Dorrek changed into his human form and dropped down into the alley to meet him.
"Hello," he greeted, his hands lifted in an attempt to placate the teenager as he immediately shifted into a defensive posture. "Please, don't be alarmed. You are Patriot, correct? Of the Young Avengers? I'm here to join your group."
There was a flash of movement and a gust of air, the door of the building slamming open, and suddenly the speedster stood behind him, arms crossed. "You want to what?"
Dorrek couldn't help but wonder if this was going to end badly before it even began, but he steeled himself, his gaze fixed on Patriot. "Please, hear me out. My name is- my name is Teddy, Teddy- ...Altman." It was something of a struggle to remember the last name he'd been given as a child, but somehow he managed. "I can-"
"Teddy Altman?" Patriot echoed, eyes widening beneath his mask. Dorrek opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the team leader jerked a thumb back towards the building. "Speed, get Vision."
There was a pause, then another flash of movement, sending a few scrap pieces of trash bouncing along the gravel surface of the alley. Patriot and Dorrek stood in stony silence for a long moment until Speed returned, followed shortly by the synthezoid and Stature, the former stone-faced and the latter both curious and concerned.
"What's going on?" Stature asked, peering around Patriot to study Dorrek.
"Vision," Patriot called, gesturing for Stature to wait, "What've you got on 'Teddy Altman'?"
Vision paused for a moment, then summoned up a floating view screen, which contained a map scattered with dots and a list of names. "Theodore Altman, age 17. His original location was recorded as New York, but is currently unknown."
Patriot glanced over at Dorrek, who looked utterly flummoxed. "So he's...?"
"He is indeed part of the Avengers Fail-Safe Program."
"...I'm... I'm part of what?" Dorrek asked cautiously. Almost at the same time, a voice called from the doorway of the building, "He's part of what?"
Dorrek winced. Damn, and he'd been hoping to get himself on the team - or at least in their good graces - before Wiccan discovered what he was trying to do. Unfortunately the sudden disappearance of his entire team had attracted his attention, and the mage was standing at the entrance, one hand gripping the door frame.
"Billy, this is Teddy," Patriot gestured towards Dorrek, "He just-"
"I heard," Wiccan cut in, his eyes narrowed. The rest of the team exchanged confused looks. "I told you to leave me alone, Dorrek."
"You know him, Billy?"
"We've met," was Wiccan's only response, his voice icy. Finding no answers in Dorrek's uncertain expression, he turned his attention to the Vision. "How can he be a part of the Fail-Safe Program? He's-"
"I'm a shapeshifter," Dorrek supplied hastily, hands lifting again, trying desperately to keep the situation from escalating. If he could just get his foot in the door, perhaps this could be salvaged.
Wiccan dashed his hopes with a single retort. "He's a Skrull."
The entire team turned their attention to Dorrek. He returned the stares, his gaze darting from one teen hero to the next, and then answered hesitantly, "I can- I can shift into a Skrull."
"Don't make excuses, you told me-"
"Why don't we take this discussion inside?" the other woman, Hawkeye, wandered out from the building, setting one hand on Wiccan's shoulder. He glanced sidelong at her, his anger fading into surprise at her suggestion. She lifted a brow behind her sunglasses, gesturing in the direction of the end of the alley, where a few passing civilians had paused at the sound of raised voices. A bunch of kids in costumes shouting at each other isn't much to stare at, but the Young Avengers are fairly publicly known, so caution would be wise.
"Kate," Wiccan protested, his expression growing urgent. "We can't just- he's a Skrull!"
"And he's on the Fail-Safe list. We might as well hear him out, Billy." She gave his shoulder a prod, urging him inside. "I think between the six of us we can handle one Skrull if this is a trap."
Wiccan frowned, glancing over his shoulder at Dorrek, but he finally, reluctantly allowed her to lead him inside. The others filed in, Dorrek walking ahead of them, and he couldn't help but feel as if this was going to be an interrogation just as much as an explanation.
Still, they hadn't banished him outright. He had no idea what this "Avengers Fail-Safe Program" was, but it had apparently saved him.
They gathered in a meeting room after securing the building, the group standing or sitting together in a semi-circle while Dorrek faced them. He doubted he would get an explanation without offering his own first, so after a moment of uncomfortable staring he spoke up.
He'd gotten the most positive (if one could call it that) response from Wiccan by offering the truth, so that is precisely what he did: he shared the circumstances of his birth (or however much of it he was aware, anyway), his temporary time on Earth, his life with the Skrulls. His involvement with the Skrull invasion was mercifully minimal, so he didn't have to lie about that, but the one thing he had no real excuse for was his reason for staying on Earth. Especially with Wiccan practically burning a hole in his head with his glare.
This really wasn't going to be easy. And yet, somehow, the challenge just made him want it more.
"I stayed..." he finally murmured, his gaze shifting slowly from one team member to another before focusing on Wiccan, his gaze honest and steadfast, "Because of you." Wiccan's eyes widened, startled that he could be so forthcoming until he continued. "The Young Avengers interest me a great deal. My life with the Skrulls has not been easy, and with my home world destroyed-" He paused, because he was dangerously close to revealing the grief he felt at the loss, and he wasn't prepared to share that with even more strangers. He did notice that Wiccan was watching him closely, however. "...I find that I have very little waiting for me among my own people, nor do I have any wish to continue fighting their wars. I thought I might seek a new life, and... I liked it here."
"While you were blowing it up," Wiccan muttered dryly, and then grunted as Kate elbowed his gut. He looked bothered by what he'd heard, though, and Dorrek couldn't decide if it was for better or worse.
He still wasn't telling the others about what Dorrek had done the previous night. Was he embarrassed by it? Or was it something else? He was itching to find out. First, though- "This... Avengers Fail-Safe Program. Can you explain it? Why is my human name in your records?"
Vision glanced over at Patriot, and when the boy nodded, the synthezoid lifted his hand to bring back the holographic view screens from before. "The Avengers Fail-Safe Program was designed to seek out and gather together youths with significant ties to the original Avengers, effectively creating the next generation of the Avengers team. Patriot, Wiccan, and Speed were on the list... as are you, Theodore Altman."
"How is that possible?" Dorrek asked warily, his eyes narrowing. He could hardly believe it, but he could see his human name on the screen, plain as day. "I was only on Earth for a few years. How could I be a part of this?"
"We don't know much about it, just that it brought us together." Dorrek's gaze shifted back to Wiccan, who spoke up in a voice not laced with anger for the first time since the night he'd accidentally revealed himself. He was still wary, obviously, but a bit of the venom had drained out of his expression. "If you're on the list, you must be connected to the Avengers."
"I am, actually. I told you that my father was a Kree soldier." Dorrek rested a hand on his chest, over his heart. He'd witnessed his mother's grief over being unable to reunite with the man, unable to introduce him to her child, and he shared that pain to a degree. "His name was Mar-Vell."
Surprise flashed across every expression in the room except his own and Vision's, who dismissed the view screens.
"Your father was Captain Marvel?" Wiccan stared at him, jaw dropping. Dorrek expected disbelief, but was surprised to find a curious wonder in his expression.
"So I've been told, and my mother would not lie about that. I told you, didn't I?" the halfling smiled, his eyes carrying a warmth that no one understood but Wiccan, or so he hoped. "We have more in common than you know."
"I don't understand what you mean."
Patriot cut in before Dorrek could answer. "How do you two even know each other? When did this happen? And Billy, why didn't you tell us you'd met a Skrull!?"
Wiccan flinched a little, ducking his head. It may have been Dorrek's imagination, but he could have sworn he saw a blush cross his cheeks. "It was... a few nights ago, after patrol. I caught him fighting some gang members, so... we kind of teamed up." The heavy silence seemed to warn him of an impending explosion, so he added hastily, "I was careful! But he seemed..." Another pause, another reluctant add-on, "...Nice."
Dorrek felt his heart speed up a little at that. Even if Wiccan's opinion of him had changed in the meantime, to hear him acknowledge it was a delight.
"But you knew he was a Skrull." It wasn't a question, and Wiccan didn't bother to deny it, considering he'd been to one to give it away.
"He changed right in front of me." The mage gestured irritably, glancing away. The blush was gone, but he still looked disturbed.
"But I did not attack you," Dorrek cautiously pointed out, trying to meet the mage's eyes.
"What would be the point?" Wiccan lifted a brow, but his focus was on Patriot, not the Skrull prince. "A Skrull can't copy my powers. If he was going to attack anyone and take their place, it would be you, not me. He's got super-strength."
"Are you a Super Skrull?" Stature spoke up, glancing around at the others. "In training, like Xavin?"
"Cassie," Hawkeye gently hushed her with a frown, though the name didn't ring any bells with Dorrek. A Super Skrull living on Earth already?
"What? I'm just asking..."
"It's all right," Dorrek lifted a hand, pretending that the dark-haired girl's concern was for her prying, rather than revealing the name of another ally. He shifted his hand into a stony material, like the Thing's, and stretched it out halfway across the table. "While I don't possess the full scope of the Super Skrull abilities, my shapeshifting allows for certain... talents." He paused, and then added quietly, "I could be a valuable asset to the team."
"Or a spy," Wiccan muttered.
"You guys broke me out of juvie to join your little super-team," Speed spoke up from the back, his expression a steady balance between boredom and playfulness. "How is this different?"
"Tommy, they just invaded Earth!"
"And I blew up a school. Among other things." The speedster shrugged. "He didn't try to kill you, did he? And we could use another steady teammate, considering." His gaze slid smoothly towards Stature, who frowned and looked away with an embarrassed huff.
The scowl seemed perpetual on Wiccan's face, but he finally relented, looking back at Dorrek. "What did you mean earlier, when you said we had something in common? You never explained."
Dorrek perked up, though he didn't allow himself to raise his expectations much. Caution would serve him well here. "I was referring to our parentage, Wiccan. We are the children of heroes, you and I- and Speed, as well, I suppose. I am the son of Captain Mar-Vell, and you two, the sons of the Scarlet Witch."
He had no idea of the bombshell he'd just dropped, but the group just about exploded with demands and questions after that, and it occurred to Dorrek that they all had a lot of talking to do.
This was going to take a while.
--
It wasn't until the evening meal that they finally reached an agreement - a compromise, really. Dorrek would join the team on a probationary basis, monitored closely until they could decide what to do with him. They didn't trust him by any means, which he well understood, nor was he permitted to return to his ship. He was to stay in the Young Avengers Headquarters as long as he was with them, since Vision didn't sleep and could keep watch, and he would be allowed to leave only when supervised.
Truth be told, it was better than he'd expected, and while it irritated him to be treated more like a prisoner than a teammate, he understood their caution. If their roles had been reversed, he would have demanded much more.
He'd butted heads with several of the team members already - Patriot, the leader, and Hawkeye briefly, though he'd apparently managed to offend her, and Speed who kept asking too many questions - but the one he truly wanted to see was avoiding him like the plague. It took some time and a bit of cunning (which likely won't help his relations with the rest of the group in the long run, but was worth the attempt in his opinion), but he finally managed to catch Wiccan alone in the locker room. He was facing away from the door, and although he coughed into a fist to announce his arrival, the teen still looked startled when he spoke.
"I'm sorry if this inconveniences you."
Wiccan glowered at him for a long moment, all but slamming the locker shut. "Somehow I seriously doubt that you are."
The coldness of his voice stung a little, but Dorrek was no pushover. He closed the distance between them, and it was to Wiccan's credit that he didn't back away, though one hand remained on the locker to keep it upright. He had witnessed what those hands could do- sparks of lightning, glittering strands of altered reality unweaving the world around him. He'd never been particularly fond of magic, himself, but even he couldn't deny that it was a beautiful thing, watching Wiccan's power at work.
Preferably it would not be used against him, though... and the fact remained that while Wiccan continued to distrust him, the possibility of it happening was more and more likely. That needed to change.
"I am sorry," he finally responded in earnest, after a pause to formulate his words. "I wronged you by not sharing who I was, and by invading your home without permission. Perhaps, in my eagerness, I mistreated you. It wasn't my intent."
It wasn't much, barely an apology really, but whether it was the tone or the words, his comments still gained him a flicker of something in the other boy's eyes, something inexplicable but not the loathing he could not get used to seeing time and again. Progress, sparse as it was. A welcome thing.
"...Okay," Wiccan replied slowly, uncertainly, his fingers curling into a loose fist against the metal of the locker door. "Okay, maybe you screwed up. Maybe you didn't mean to do all that. But you're still sticking around because you're basically stalking me, and you should know that I'm never going to date you or be your ‘mate' or whatever, so-"
"I'm intrigued," Dorrek cut in, arms crossing, leaning back against the nearest wall. They were so close he could touch Wiccan if he reached out, and keeping his hands otherwise occupied is the only way to prevent himself from doing so. It was the hair, he decided. He really, really wanted a claw in that hair.
...Focus, Dorrek. "I'm intrigued by the synthezoid's roster, the recruits designed to be on your team. Why, if I haven't lived on Earth since infancy, am I on that list?"
That seemed to settle some of Wiccan's irritation, his expression looking serious instead. "That's... been bothering me, too. I can't think of how Skrulls could have tampered with Vision's memory banks."
Dorrek carefully masked the offense he took from that statement - the implication that he'd have manipulated the situation to that degree - shifting his expression to appear blank and unassuming. He doubted Wiccan would have believed him if he'd tried to deny it, and considering this topic had them at least conversing civilly, he'd rather not ruin the moment. "That the Avengers were somehow aware of my existence is troubling to me."
"Trying to cover your tracks for when you inevitably betray us?"
...So much for civility. Dorrek felt a flare of frustration, unable to quell it this time, and straightened up, arms lowering to his sides as he approached the mage. Wiccan inhaled sharply when he got too close, but Dorrek made no move to touch him, merely leaned in close, eyes narrowed, one hand resting on the locker near the brunet's head.
"Know this, Wiccan of the Young Avengers," he said quietly, but with an intensity that made the teen know how very serious he was, "Whatever your interpretation of my culture, we Skrulls are loyal to those we call our own, to the point of death. Our paths have crossed, and whether you like it or not, we are on the same team. This may not last forever, but until we part ways again, I will never betray you."
In response, Wiccan stared at him, eyes wide, mouth agape and wordless. Dorrek's gaze drifted to his lips very briefly, a mistake on his part; the effect of his vow would be somewhat diminished if Wiccan were to realize how kissable his mouth looked at that moment. The mage licked his lips uneasily, and Dorrek backed away, turning around and marching resolutely towards the door. He'd been forward enough today, and if he remained that close he would most certainly have overstepped his boundaries then and there.
As he turned, however, he didn't miss the shift in the colours of their surroundings, from an eerily glowing blue to normalcy, the obvious scent of ozone lingering in the air. His proximity to Wiccan had affected the witch, as well, and not in as pleasant a manner. Someday, he will welcome that. It's a certainty Dorrek refused to release, determined that it will be when and not if. Until then, however, limits were to be... respected. He left without another word, off to find someone he could convince to let him outside for some fresh air.
Unfortunately the first person he came across was the speedster- or rather, the speedster found him, appearing before him in a blur of motion too swift to follow, almost dizzying.
"Hey, big guy," he said smoothly, skidding to a halt. "Where do you think you're going?"
It wasn't necessarily his first choice, but it was an arguably better option than the robot, so Dorrek furrowed his brow and gestured towards the door. "This place is stifling. Walk with me. "
Speed lifted a brow. "I don't walk. Just try to keep up."
It was not exactly a satisfactory agreement, but it was enough; he didn't respond, merely followed the speedster outside at a brisk pace- apparently he was not so much opposed to walking as he was to just standing around. They're less than half a block from the headquarters, still in costume, when Speed beat him into starting the conversation.
"...So what're you after?" That question earned the speedster a quizzical glance, and he shrugged his shoulders. "Besides all that crap about the Failsafe Program. That's what got us together, sure, but it's not what kept us around."
Dorrek's response was not immediate; it was a loaded question, unintentionally or otherwise, and any one of a dozen responses could get him into trouble. The young man was a brother to the target of his affections, and while he knew little of the nature of their relationship and had seen little evidence to support the idea that he might be overprotective, he knew better than to assume someone was an ally just because they had spoken up on his behalf. Too many biased ruling sessions and military meetings had taught him how dual-edged a compliment or word of support could be.
The question still needed to be answered, though, and Speed was looking expectantly at him. As he'd already expressed his interest to Wiccan himself, the truth seemed prudent. "I have... an interest in your brother."
Unsurprisingly, the speedster halted his motion at that, staring at him incredulously and studying his expression for any sign of mockery or untruth. Finding none, he gagged quietly and glanced away, awkward and no longer smiling. "Uh. Wow. That's about as lame and anticlimactic a reason as it gets." Dorrek lifted a brow, uncertain of how to interpret the reaction, but Speed's expression after that was unhelpful in explaining himself. "And here I was starting to think that you might be halfway cool."
Finding no appropriate response to this, Dorrek shook it off. The opinion of one human on his temperature seemed unimportant. ...He suspected Speed meant something else, though.
There was an unexpected pause, then, and when he looked over at Speed, he appeared thoughtful, which was unusual for him, going by his track record. "...Brother, though," the speedster muttered. "Seriously?"
"Did you not suspect something, with how identical you appear?"
Speed shrugged. "Sure, we asked questions. Didn't make any sense, though - Billy's folks were pretty clear about him being theirs, no secret twins or adoptions."
"And your own parents?"
Another shrug. "Didn't ask."
The message of don't ask about that again was clear enough for Dorrek to understand, so he merely nodded. It wasn't as if he had any particular desire to share his own history - or family stories - after all. He didn't know this boy, nor did he care about him. He couldn't expect more than the same in return. "I lack any details about the matter, myself. Your synthezoid companion likely has more information than I or the rest of my people could provide. I don't even know how they came across it in the first place."
"...Whatever, it's not like it really matters. Answers one question and creates a hundred more- isn't that normal for this kind of life?" Speed seemed to be taking it in stride, and even Dorrek, who had spent a lifetime observing people and reading situations, had difficulty deciphering how sincere his words were. His expression shifted too quickly for it to be a simple task as it normally was. A frustrating trait, that, but expected in a speedster. "We just figured the whole identical thing was a fluke."
Dorrek's response was a vague sound of acknowledgement. He was thinking, but not about that particular topic. No, his issue was still the matter of... ‘team bonding', the phrase was, if he recalled correctly.
"Earlier, you mentioned something," he said cautiously, when enough of a pause had occurred to switch topics, "That your team broke you out of ‘juvie'. What is that? Why was it significant?"
That topic didn't seem to be much better- Speed made a face, displeasure mixed with dismissiveness, and weaved in and out of a series of decorative poles as if to distract himself - they'd reached a park, the population milling noisily around them in the background, and not for the first time since his arrival, Dorrek felt a rush of treacherous relief that his true form was primarily Kree. "Jail for mutant freaks. Accidentally blowing up a school gets you more than just a visit to the principal. I'm some kind of danger to society, apparently."
"I can't imagine you to be the only superhuman to be defined as such," Dorrek replied dryly, and Speed couldn't quite suppress his smirk. "So you're a criminal, then."
"Technically we're all criminals right now," Speed responded smoothly, vibrating his hand through the last pole as they fell into step together behind a wall, out of sight from the nearby playground. "The SRA's still live, and we're unregistered. And you're an invading alien."
"Thank you, I was unaware." Still dry, this time with an air of haughty sarcasm. "But I meant that we do have some things in common."
"And you're wondering how you can benefit from that." Dorrek paused in mid-step, surprised by that, and he expected anger in Speed's expression when the speedster turned to face him. He found none, and was surprised again. "I'm not an idiot. You're here for a reason, and it's not to make friends. You said it yourself. You want to - date Billy or fuck him or whatever, I don't give a damn. So why're you talking to me? You want me to put in the good word for you? Let him know that we're so alike, we're great friends now, so go for it, man? Is that how this works?"
Dorrek pressed his tongue up against the bridge of his mouth, masking his expression, but the surprise he'd originally felt seemed to have given him away.
Speed’s body blurred for a split-second, and suddenly he was in front of Dorrek, face to face. They were almost the same height, he realized. With how he moved, poised as if always ready to run, he'd assumed the young man was much smaller. "Whether he's my brother or not - and I've got serious doubts about that - he's part of my team. And they might be a bunch of judgmental pricks sometimes, but they're good people. I'm not about to let you screw around with them just so you can have some fun."
Dorrek faced him down, his expression turning much more serious. "Am I not a part of your team now, as well?"
"...Sure, that's how it looks." Speed didn't back off, despite his tone sliding into one slightly more casual. "If the Vision says you're part of the failsafe, that's good enough for an in. But it doesn't make you one of us. You earn that."
It didn't feel like much of a welcome, or an inspiration; Dorrek for certain knew that it was halfway to a threat.
--
The trouble actually began a few days later, when Patriot decided that the group should split into smaller teams for some one-on-one training. Stature had a mission with the real Avengers or something - Dorrek didn't get the details, and Wiccan had protested that they were part of Cap's real Avengers so they still counted, but it was irrelevant - so they had an even number again. It was fine until they both heard their names called- and connected to each other.
Dorrek perked up immediately, but at the very same instant he heard Wiccan object, "I can't work with him!"
Patriot's brow quirked. "You said you did before."
"Before I knew he was a Skrull, sure."
"It still makes you the best suited to train with him. You said your powers were shapeshifting and healing, right? And super strength?" He waited for Dorrek's nod, then continued, "Wiccan's still hit-and-miss with his magic most of the time-"
"Hey!"
"So he needs to train with someone durable," Patriot continued, ignoring the interruption. "He's also powerful enough to take care of himself."
The impression there wasn't lost on Dorrek, but to his credit he didn't react or respond to it, merely crossed his arms and waited to see what Wiccan would do. Which was, naturally, give one final protest, this time on a quieter, more personal level. "Eli, I can't. Get someone else to do it."
"Billy," Patriot growled, using the name as a rebuttal, a reminder, and almost a warning, as Dorrek quietly filed another civilian identity away in his mind, "It's more than just power dynamics. You're the one who's got the biggest problem with him being on the team. You've got issues, I get that. Work it out."
He'd shifted into the Leader Voice - the tone was unmistakable, even to Dorrek who hadn't spent enough time with the team to know him well - and after a long, stubborn stare down, Wiccan finally backed off, reluctant but acquiescent. And that was that.
Fifteen minutes later, they were facing each other in the basement gym, and it was easy to tell that this place was a regular location for Wiccan's training. The walls and floor were mostly unfinished, old equipment and boxes piled off to the edges to make as much room in the center for combat practice, and there were burn marks everywhere, the remnants of lightning attacks, most likely. Dorrek didn't know the extent of Wiccan's powers - the information he'd received from Kl'rt had been vague at best - but lightning and flight was a far too limiting power set for a mage. Even the priestesses within his own race could boast more spells than that, and none of them could claim to have the Scarlet Witch as their mother.
After a prolonged silence, with each of them trying to sort out how the other would begin, Dorrek finally caved to his impulse and spoke up. "What is it that you can do?"
Wiccan lifted his head, somewhat startled by the question, and his brows furrowed questioningly. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're the one who needs training, here."
Dorrek snorted faintly, taking a few steps forward, and his body changed as he moved, shifting larger, broader at the shoulders, hair thinning and going flat against his skull, his skin turning green, flesh and bone bursting out of his shoulders and spreading into a pair of thin, leathery wings. He flexes his muscles as they settle into place, smirking. "Am I?"
Despite the display, the mage didn't even have the decency to look intimidated, though there was some visible caution in his expression. If anything, actually, he looked thoughtful. "...Is that how you plan on fighting with us?"
Dorrek paused, glancing down at himself. Perhaps it wasn't the most... subtle of transformations. "This is how I usually fight amongst my people."
Wiccan responded with an impatient exhale, stepping closer - cautiously, always cautiously - to circle around him. "...Yeah, no. You look like a Skrull. Skrulls aren't heroes around here, remember? Not when you guys keep invading us."
"What would you propose I do differently?" Dorrek's brow lifted, genuinely curious. It was the first time Wiccan had shown any interest in him whatsoever since their first meeting, before he'd shifted. He rolled his shoulders a bit, beginning to retract the wings, but the mage gestured for him to stop. "...Hm?"
"Keep the wings. Or- I mean-" The thoughtful expression was back, as Wiccan stepped back, arms crossing over his chest. "They look useful, I guess. Vision and I are the only members of the group who can fly, and we've fought a lot of aerial enemies, so..." He paused, another long moment of consideration, and then his gaze lifted upwards. "...It's the hair."
"Excuse me?"
"Your hair. And definitely the chin... whatevers. The green isn't such a big deal, lots of heroes are that colour. But those are so obvious."
Dorrek bristled slightly, but he shifted them away regardless, letting his natural Kree features fall back into place - the lines of his chin melted away, and his hair returned to its former blond, fluffy state. "I'm well aware of that."
"Then why do you keep doing it?" Wiccan quirked a brow, the tiniest glimmer of approval in his gaze. His posture didn't change, and he still gave the impression that he was ready to zap the room at any given moment, but it was definitely a step in the right direction.
The question made Dorrek pause, however, glancing over his shoulder at the wings he'd formed there. They were so natural to him now, just as reverting to the Skrull form was, after a lifetime of wearing it like a shield, concealing his half-breed nature. Truth be told, this was the longest period of time he'd gone without wearing it almost all day, every day, and it was somewhat unnerving. Yet... at the same time... he was amazed by how liberating it felt. To just...
"Be yourself." His head jerked in Wiccan's direction at the words, startled by them so obviously that even the other boy looked surprised by it, then flustered. "...I mean- you said you're half-Kree, and that you usually look human. So just... try that. Don't be a Skrull. Be kind of... half and half, I guess." By the end of his explanation, he looked even more embarrassed, so he glanced away, annoyed. "Whatever, it's just an idea."
It wasn't something he'd considered before, actually - and therefore it was a good idea. Growing up amongst the Skrulls had given him precious little opportunity to find his own identity. In a world where the Kree and the humans were the enemy, looking like either of them was a surefire way to get oneself killed. He focused his shifting inwardly, allowing his body to relax and change in subtle, more natural ways. At first he tried too hard, his features a confused jumble of too much Skrull, too much him, too much Kree, then back around again. Eventually, though, he closed his eyes and just... let go.
Be yourself. He let those words guide him, inspire him, find his center. After that it was astonishingly easy, and when he opened his eyes again, finished with the transformation, Wiccan was staring at him, and for the first time in what felt like ages, it wasn't an unpleasant expression.
The witch caught himself after a long moment, one hand pressed awkwardly against his mouth, and he turned away. "Yeah, uh- that'll... that'll do. It looks good, actually." And then, almost as an afterthought, "You'll need a new uniform, too."
"Will the one that I was wearing the day we met be sufficient?" He shifted the clothing to match what he recalled it to be, a simple stretchable suit with red and silver trim, and when Wiccan glanced back at him, a snort of quiet laughter escaped his lips. It was the first time he'd heard the young man laugh, and he rather liked the sound of it. Even if it barely counted.
"You look like Christmas exploded on a goth," Wiccan stated dryly, and while both references were lost on Dorrek, he suspected they were not flattering. "We can get Hawkeye to make you a real uniform later."
He didn't need a uniform - he had been trained since childhood to shift his clothes whenever necessary, and actual clothes only complicated his powers rather than compliment them - but he didn't protest, despite that. He hadn't expected Wiccan to make such an offer, and the unexpected pleasure he felt at the idea gave him enough confidence to ask calmly, "Does this mean that you're accepting me onto your team after all?"
He was watching for Wiccan's reaction, which was why he noticed the way the mage's shoulders stiffened, his expression torn between embarrassment and irritation, and it was obvious that the moment had passed. The wall was back, and Dorrek was trapped behind it once more.
Worth it, though. To see him respond that way.
"I'm not making any promises," Wiccan finally replied, stepping back to create a proper distance between them, and lightning crackled around his fingers. "This is just a training session. It doesn't mean you're part of the team."
It was actually startling, how similar those words were to what Speed had said to him only days before. Twins, he remembered. There were stories told about twins, about inexplicable connections, and he'd never believed in them, but.
The lightning tore through the air without warning, yanking him away from his musings, and Dorrek's final thought, before he allowed his mind to be consumed by the heat of battle, was I made him blush.
--
The difficult part of working with a well-adjusted group was this: it was hard to introduce new members without destabilizing the group dynamic for a while. It went against Dorrek's favour, hard as he tried, and he put up with far more criticism than he felt he deserved, as a prince of an entire race. What he found most curious about it all is that despite Wiccan's lack of interest in him - or at least, the constant denial that anything would ever come of his remaining on Earth - his desire to stay only grew. This was no longer a childish need to satisfy his own urges, or to find himself some kind of trophy mate (they had lost, so at best returning with a human would be a consolation prize, anyway). Instead, he was driven by intrigue more and more as each day passed. What he was surprised to learn, over time, was that the Young Avengers were precisely as advertised - a team. Inexperienced, reckless, at times even clumsy, and yet the group had a certain flow that appealed to Dorrek more than he cared to admit. The way they moved together sometimes, graceful and precise, even if they hadn't planned a thing before they'd launched themselves into battle. The way they spoke to one another, tossing banter back and forth that with anyone else might have caused rifts between each member only made them stronger as a whole.
They were foolish, in many, many ways, something Dorrek didn't think he should respect at all. They were not careful. Within a week he knew their civilian names; within two he had sparred with each and every one of them and knew their bodies well enough to impersonate them, studied their speech patterns, mimicked their fighting styles. Had he been a spy, he could have tracked them down out of costume, taken their families hostage, done all manner of terrible things. He'd been aware of Wiccan's family from the onset, and had he truly desired his prize, surely all it would take was a few choice words to make him rethink their relationship.
Fleeting thoughts, at best, and he never acted upon them. To do so would be to ruin what he had, what he was gradually becoming the longer he stayed, the more they allowed him to be assimilated into their group.
He was becoming a Young Avenger, and he loved it.
There were no shortage of conflicts with that realization, of course, once it dawned on him. The Avengers were the enemies who had defeated, slain, or captured his comrades, his people, and here he was, allying himself with their allies. Helping them, defending them, saving their lives, even. He'd stopped a bullet for Hawkeye, he'd struck down a criminal inches away from gutting Patriot, he'd drawn enemy fire away from Wiccan long enough to give him time to cast. And they'd done the same for him, all of them, at one point or another. Even Wiccan, the one who still claimed to not trust him. When he had questioned that behaviour, Patriot had given him an odd look and stated firmly, "That's what a team does."
He hadn't asked again after that. Something about the intense finality of that statement was enough to satisfy his confusion.
So. He was a Young Avenger. For how long, however, was a question he struggled with after that; in truth he was amazed that Kl'rt hadn't come for him even after this long, and that it was either luck or the Super Skrull's affection for him that had prevented his guardian from returning to Earth to fetch him. It would happen eventually, of that he was absolutely certain. Scattered as their people were, they couldn't afford to lose their one surviving prince, the last heir to a dying empire. His whims could be indulged, but only for so long.
With that uncertain ticking clock counting down in the back of his mind, he focused his attention on expanding his experience, learning more, discovering everything he could about the world he had only weeks before attempted to bring to ruin. The Internet was helpful enough, but confusing and contradictory, and the base had become stifling day after day. He'd enjoyed the environment of the library he had visited during his first days, so he made an unexpected request to Patriot - Eli, he'd started calling him Eli like the others did, and had been pleased to not yet be corrected - to visit his workplace one day. To his credit, Eli didn't reveal his surprise that Dorrek knew where he worked, and while Vision still joined them as an escort, that day became his first social outing since joining the team.
He read. He learned. He loved it. And he wondered to himself, turning the pages of book after book, taking in the information and discovering more about the beautiful world he was currently calling his temporary home, why the Skrulls would want to destroy such culture.
He didn't wonder why they wanted this world for themselves, of course. The evidence was everywhere, right before his eyes.
Eli visited him occasionally, probably to ensure that he wasn't destroying the property (an absurd thought) or trying to escape Vision's polite but watchful gaze (a tempting one, but not something he'd been willing to risk yet), and during his break, he opted to sit with them, leaning over to check the book with which Dorrek was currently engrossed. "...Shakespeare?"
" ‘Sit by my side, and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.' " Dorrek turned the page, barely looking up. "I thought it was a warrior's biography."
Eli snorted, rolling his eyes. "Remind me to get you Stardust before we head back to base." The prince quirked a brow at that, but Eli didn't elaborate.
"I tried to explain the concept of theatrical drama to him," Vision - Jonas, he was called in human form - added helpfully, his eyes fixed on the book he was holding, but since it was the Oxford English Dictionary, no one actually believed he was reading it. Dorrek suspected he was texting with Cassie again. "He chose to ignore me."
"He could have picked a worse book than this," Eli shrugged. "I'm glad you found something you liked, though. To be honest, I figured you'd get bored after an hour."
In response, Dorrek wordlessly pushed a pile of books towards the young man, a collection of various texts he'd accumulated during the past several hours.
"...All of them?"
"All of them." Page turn. "I have a lot of free time while the rest of you attend school."
Eli pulled the books closer, sifting through them to check out the selection before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. "Okay, fine, I'll put them on my card. But you have lousy taste in reading material."
" ‘If she and I be pleased, what's that to you?' " Was Dorrek's only reply, and that was that.
--
He did eventually receive Stardust, though in the form of a movie that Jonas helpfully downloaded for them to watch. It was the introduction to television that he really didn't need, since he was fairly certain he had to shift away about five pounds after he spent several days in "perpetual couch potato status", as Kate called it, but it was also the inception of what would eventually be known as "Movie Night". Wiccan - Billy, the only one he had yet to be completely comfortable calling by name, yet the one he wanted to the most - joined them a quarter of the way through, mumbling a complaint about missing the beginning and flopping dramatically on the couch. He was technically sitting with Dorrek, but as they were on opposite ends, it wasn't much of a victory. The couch had the best view of the ridiculously-sized screen, after all. Kate sat between them with a giant bowl of popcorn five minutes later, legs tucked up and feet weaseling shamelessly beneath Billy's thigh to warm up, ignoring his insincere protest. Within half an hour Cassie was seated on the floor beneath them, munching the popcorn while Kate braided her hair, Eli was in the huge cushy chair impatiently waiting for the TV to be free for video games, and Tommy was perched on the back of the couch, though he zipped in and out sporadically because it went against his very nature to sit still for long. He'd give Billy a lazy shove with his foot every once in a while, gone before his twin could even voice a complaint, not that his absence prevented it.
Group dynamics, Dorrek mused, watching them only slightly less than he watched the movie itself. And then it clicked - how comfortable they all were with one another, how natural they fell into place around a common interest, how personal space was more or less optional. They were a team, yes.
But first and foremost, they were a family.
After spending the most recent years of his youth with none of that, the concept was almost as alien to him as the world itself. There were no standard ideas about "team bonding", no areas in the military training facilities for cuddling up on a couch to socialize and eat together. Soldier was pitched against soldier, rivalries formed, and comrades created at best partnerships in order to advance through the ranks with someone to watch your back. Trust was a rare commodity. Here, the humans had it in droves. It was... frightening, yet he had trouble suppressing the idea that he envied them, at least a little. They knew each other like no one had ever known him.
He'd spent so long concealing himself, the parts of him that didn't fit in with his own culture, that the thought of letting someone in was hard to imagine.
Dorrek was pulled from his thoughts when Eli abruptly swatted his arm, and before the Skrull prince could ask what the attack was for, the other boy gestured to the screen. It was then that Dorrek was introduced to the character known as Captain Shakespeare, and it marked the first time since his arrival on Earth that Dorrek laughed.
And he didn't even notice the look it earned him from Wiccan, still on the other side of the couch, one female archer and a million issues between them.
---
For some reason, Patriot was under the impression that Dorrek and Wiccan worked well together, and to his credit, it was actually true. It took a great deal of restraint to conceal his delight at this, and perhaps it was simply wishful thinking, but Wiccan hadn't offered any particularly emphatic protests when they were assigned to the same team during training. He was smart, after all, and despite his misgivings, even the oft-uncomfortable mage couldn't deny that they were balanced. Might and magic, temper and restraint, sword and shield. He even handled the occasional misfire better than the rest of the team, which, Tommy openly announced, was pretty much a miracle. Their lives were full of those recently, or so Dorrek was beginning to believe. His, most of all. The fact that they'd come so far in such a short time, with him, an enemy and an alien, spoke volumes of the nature of mankind.
No wonder we lost.
He tried to keep such thoughts from interfering with his training, and thankfully, he'd been taught from childhood to mask such things from those around him, but when he was alone, at night with only the synthezoid for company, he'd think back on it. And the longer he stayed with them, the more they accepted him into their group, the more he wondered why the Skrulls - his people - had ever thought they had a chance, if the Young Avengers were but a small example of the potential of humans. A race so broken couldn't possibly defeat this sort of unification.
His experience with such things was limited, but the more he trained with Wiccan, the more... synchronized he felt. It was unspoken, but even Wiccan was cooperating better than before, working with him rather than resisting every step of the way. The others were beginning to notice it, too; they were offered compliments, advice, opportunities to put this strange and unexpected new partnership to work. On rescue missions they were sent together into buildings - Wiccan, holding it together, and Dorrek, who had received the codename Hulkling somewhere down the line (something he had mixed feelings about, but the will of the group had precedence), pulling out the injured or trapped. In battle they flanked enemies together, during robberies they performed their separate roles side by side. It was a natural thing that neither one of them could explain. All they knew was that things were changing.
One unremarkable day, upon their return to the lair, Dorrek unthinkingly patted the mage's shoulder, idly commenting, "My thanks for watching my back, Wiccan," and when Wiccan turned to face him, his expression was thoughtful and conflicted. It was an expression that Dorrek had been seeing more and more these days, and each time he understood it just a little bit less.
Finally, Wiccan voiced his thoughts with a single statement, a manifestation in real life so many of Dorrek's recent dreams: "...You can call me Billy, you know."
He had left Dorrek standing with his mouth slightly agape in surprise, apparently feeling as awkward and uncertain of what that simple permission was going to change. It was shortly after that that he came to understand: what he had been seeing was the beginnings of acceptance.
Tommy noticed the exchange, apparently. He approached Dorrek some time later, when the others had left, with a proposal.
"You're determined to win him over, right?" He didn't wait for Dorrek's answer, merely forged on ahead. "All right, I'll help you."
Dorrek quirked a brow, a clear message that to him, the sudden turn-around was suspect; Tommy had, after all, been watching him the whole time for any sign of betrayal or violence towards the brother he claimed to not care much about. It was one of many unspoken agreements: Tommy wouldn't give him a hard time, and in return, Dorrek would not harass his unconfirmed twin. "Why now?"
Tommy shrugged. "Why not? He accepts you. That's good enough for me. But you don't know anything about seducing a human, do you?"
Dorrek hesitated, then shook his head. "I do not. My attempts to research have been hampered by my lack of understanding of human technology." A pause, and then- "As well as social cues."
The speedster snorted at that. "Obviously. You've been looking in the wrong places, though- and not asking the right people. Why not go right to the source?"
"You mean-"
"I mean me, geez. I'm his twin, you said it yourself. Who'd know better than this guy?" He grinned, gesturing for Dorrek to follow him. "Come on, I know just where to start. You can make yourself look like Billy, right?"
"I... yes, of course..."
"'Of course', he says. That's nasty, Dork. Anyway, do it- we need to sneak you past Vizh."
‘Where' turned out to be beyond the city itself, in some mysterious wilderness the likes of which Dorrek had never seen on Earth. He hadn't seen the route, either - Tommy had grabbed hold of him and taken off running, complaining about the weight of a Skrull slowing him down while moving at a speed that took Dorrek's breath away. They crossed the ocean, or rather Dorrek saw a wave of blue in the process that he assumed was the ocean, and eventually stopped in what could only be a vast jungle. Enormous trees surrounded them, insects and birds buzzed and chirped above, and in the distance, he could hear the roaring of some giant, unidentified creature.
He turned to Tommy, who released him and started shaking - no, vibrating - his foot to get something off the boot of his uniform. "...Where is this, exactly?"
"This is the Savage Land," was Tommy's snappy reply, his tone resembling that of someone who had made a decision he was already regretting. "It's full of monsters and dinosaurs and crap. ...Literally. What the hell, why won't this-"
"And why are we in the Savage Land?"
Tommy kicked a tree, finally glancing up, then pointed at some space in the sky over his shoulder. "That's why."
Dorrek looked, and immediately regretted it. That was an extremely large and unpleasant-looking lizard creature, and it was staring at them. "...Excuse me?"
"Don't Skrulls have fairy tales?" Tommy was far too pleased with himself and his discovery than he ought to be. "When it comes to people, the best way to sweep someone off their feet is to wow them by doing something awesome. There's a million stories out there of some girl being rescued by a horrible monster and whisked away by a prince, and his castle's gotta have a dragon's head mounted on the wall or something to show what he did for her. You can Google it later."
Well, at least Google wasn't unfamiliar to him, but the rest of that explanation was questionable content at best. "Billy isn't here. How am I supposed to rescue him from something that isn't endangering him?"
Tommy waved him off. In the distance, the creature was approaching them; Dorrek didn't have to look, as the footsteps were making the entire terrain shake. "Doesn't matter. Just impress him! Skrulls are this big tough warrior race, right? Don't you guys win each other over by being the biggest and the toughest or something equally Spartan?"
"As a matter of fact, we-"
"Think fast," Tommy cut in, and then abruptly disappeared, and Dorrek barely had enough time to duck and roll out of the way before the dinosaur's giant teeth snapped the space he'd inhabited seconds before. He'd have to question Tommy's motives later.
For it's size, the monster was swift, but Dorrek had assets the beast did not possess. Flight, for one, muscles rippling and wings tearing free from his back. The dinosaur swung itself around to follow his movement, and Dorrek's healing ability saved him from several broken ribs when he hit the ground, clipped by the beast's tail. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Tommy, lounging on a branch of one of the trees. "...Aren't you going to help me?"
Tommy lifted a brow. "Well I'm sure as hell not trying to seduce my brother. Anyway, it won't mean anything unless you do it yourself."
Dorrek resisted the urge to groan, instead ducking under the next snap of the beast's jaws, and rises to smash its jaws together with a mighty uppercut. "Eli's right, you do need to improve your teamworking skills."
"You know, I liked you better before you had an attitude."
The Skrull prince opted to ignore him after that, since pain had angered the creature enough to make it dangerous. A strong flap of his wings lifted him high enough to evade yet another attack, and one more sent him into a powerful dive that came close to breaking the creature's spine. The fight didn't last much longer than that, only a handful of blows, until finally he stood above the fallen monstrosity, breathing hard, but with an air of triumph about him. What Tommy had said was accurate: it would not have felt quite like this if he'd been assisted in the kill.
From the tree, Tommy offered a brief applause before racing down the trunk to stand beside him, giving the beast a prod with his boot. He had the air of surprise about him, though he hid it well, and Dorrek suspected that the speedster didn't think he'd actually go through with it. "Well, uh, good job. You killed a dinosaur. Now what're you going to do with it?"
Dorrek glanced at him, then at the reptile's corpse, his expression both serious and pondering.
Tommy studied that expression for all of three seconds before announcing, "That's disgusting," and speeding off, leaving little more than a receding cloud of dust.
The next day, there was a dinosaur head mounted on the wall of the Young Avengers HQ.
--
It didn't... actually have the response he thought it would. Tommy's sentiment was echoed by both girls, and Eli began a tirade that lasted at least ten minutes, though after the first four Dorrek stopped paying attention. Vision didn't seem passionate about it one way or the other, but then, he'd been the first to tell Dorrek that it wouldn't have the desired effect when he had caught his teammate setting it up on the wall that morning. Dorrek had been too tired from the flight home to argue with him, and he'd been rudely awoken to the horrified reactions of his team, so he really wasn't in a mood for any of it.
When Eli was finally finished, ending with a demand that it be removed and cleaned up immediately, Dorrek turned his attention to Billy, who was the only one who had yet to say anything; the mage had merely stared at the head in morbid surprise.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Billy, as if anticipating his question, beat him to it. "I'm not sure I want to know why you thought this was a good idea."
...Ah. So it wasn't, after all. "My apologies. I thought you would enjoy a feat of strength. I was told that human mates found it attractive in princes of mythology."
A silence passed between them, and Billy ducked his head, burying his face in his hands. "Oh my god. Oh my god, first you sneak into my bedroom, and now you kill a dinosaur to ‘woo' me?"
From the other room, a snort was heard, followed by a laugh that was muffled, but just barely. Dorrek glanced sharply at Billy, his brows lifting. The voice was identical apart from tone, which meant-
"Tommy," Kate shouted from the far side of the room, her voice rising and falling as she passed them and disappeared into the hall from which the laughter sounded, "I swear to God if this was your idea I'm going to mount you on the wall and use you for target practice."
"Geez, Kate, couldn't we start a little lower on your kink list?"
They didn't hear the rest of the exchange, but the both of them had enough of an imagination (and experience, with those particular teammates) to fill in the blanks. Turning back to the issue at hand, Dorrek looked regretful, though his expression was tainted by a newfound irritation. "It was his idea, but I did it myself. I'm sorry."
Billy was quiet for a long moment at that, gazing up at the severed head almost curiously. He shared the irritation - at least, that was the impression Dorrek was receiving - but it was comparatively mild. "Honestly, I'm surprised he waited this long. You're not subtle about why you came here, Dorrek."
The prince didn't have much of a defense for that, even though, in truth, his reasons for staying had evolved far beyond something as simple as physical attraction. It was, at best, a convenient excuse. So instead of responding properly, he shrugged his shoulders, glancing up at the severed head. "I never claimed to be."
Billy followed his gaze, grimacing, and summoned his magic to float up to where it was hung. "The execution was wrong - figuratively and literally, because geez, you can't just go around killing dinosaurs to show off - but... it's kind of sweet, I guess. In a messed-up way."
Genuinely surprised, Dorrek spread his own wings to join him in the air. "...I... thank you? ...What are you doing?"
"Helping," Billy supplied, the unspoken ‘obviously' made clear by his upturned brow. "We can add ‘scraping dino brains off the walls' to the teambuilding roster, Eli'll like that. But hey," and his tone as he said it was so different from the rest that Dorrek had to push away from the dinosaur's head to see him clearly, "If you're going for human courtship, start with... I don't know, flowers or something."
Dorrek allowed that to sink in, then gripped the dinosaur's head, lifting it carefully off the hooks holding it in place. "I could fetch a plant from the Savage Land, if you wish. While I was there I saw several man-eating species that I would enjoy rescuing you from."
Billy laughed, then, and the sound was as different from Tommy's as his hair colour, and Dorrek felt very proud of himself in that moment.
--
One day, not particularly significant or noteworthy in any other way, Dorrek wandered into the living room area and found Billy curled up on the couch with a book in hand and several more in a bag on the coffee table. This wasn't the first time Dorrek had seen him like this, but it was the first time he felt that they were comfortable enough with one another to get a solid answer, so out of curiosity he sat down next to Billy and tried to peer at the book. "What are you reading?"
"It's Wednesday," Billy answered without looking up, and a moment of confused silence passed on Dorrek's end before the mage lifted his head, realizing how little sense that response had made. "Oh, uh- they're comics. New comics come out on Wednesdays."
"Ah." He remembered, then: comics had been a topic of specific interest to Billy the first night they'd patrolled together, something he had discussed with gusto and passion. He'd tried to research it himself, but had found the subject far more convoluted and difficult to understand on the internet compared to how Billy had described it. Or perhaps he'd just been able to focus better when it was Billy talking, and not a faceless entity of text. "May I join you?"
Billy hesitated, his gaze fixed on the page in front of him, then looked over at Dorrek, scrutinizing. "Show me your hands."
"Wh-"
"Just show me!" When Dorrek obliged, Billy gave them a thorough study before setting aside his comic and fishing through the bag on the table. "Okay, but no claws. I just picked up a Batman trade, you can read that."
Dorrek was handed another book with a gruff-looking masked man on the cover, an image he would recall with fondness as the physical manifestation of his descent into madness.
He read it. Like his selections from the library, he consumed it. A masked vigilante with a double-life and a powerful temperament, who took down criminals with skill and honour but no powers whatsoever. How fascinating! As he read he asked a dozen questions, the answers to which spawned a dozen more. "Did he just-" "Yeah, he did." "How?" "Oh my god, just keep reading." "...Who is this person they keep bringing up?" "Oh geez, um, that takes some serious backstory..." "Tell me." "Okay, back in issue #..."
They were like that for at least two hours, pouring over the comics and publication history and as many questions Dorrek was able to come up with until Eli found them and dragged them off to training, and even then they were scolded for slacking off at least five times by various team members as the afternoon progressed into evening. After one too many accidental zaps, Tommy finally snapped for them to "get a room", and as a result, Billy was so quiet for the remainder of the training session that Dorrek was afraid that the entire experience would end up just a fluke of luck.
When it was over, however, Billy snagged him by the arm and gestured for Dorrek to follow him, and he was led down the street to a small, tucked-away shop not far off which was full, absolutely full of comic books.
"Weren't you just here, Kaplan?" the man in the back near the cash register called.
"Yeah, sorry, forgot something." Billy said, then glanced back at Dorrek and grinned, noticing something. "Or someone, more like."
It took Dorrek a moment to realize that Billy was talking about him; he was transfixed, fascinated, and genuinely pleased to have been invited into what was so obviously a "Billy" space. After the night he'd broken in, his interactions with the mage had been strictly Young Avengers-based, but this? This was all Billy.
"I do not have monetary compensation," he murmured, and Billy snorted, the sound a mixture of exasperation and amusement.
" ‘I don't have money'. If you're gonna pretend to be a normal American teenager, you might as well sound like it. And it's fine, I'll get you something. The entertainment value's worth it."
Dorrek suspected that to be a jibe, but his quiet delight at being treated made it worthwhile. It felt like a gift. It wasn't, not exactly, but he liked the experience.
"Hey, Jack, do you have a recent trade of Nightwing?" After a brief exchange with the shopkeeper, Billy urged Dorrek over to a shelf off to the side and fished out a book with another masked man who looked vaguely familiar, this time clad in black and blue. "This is the superhero you were reading about earlier, in his real persona. Remember the backstory I mentioned? I think you'll like this."
Dorrek accepted it like it was made of glass, unable to keep the delight from crossing his expression. Aside from his uniform, it was his first possession from Earth, and the fact that it was from Billy made it special. He was already reading it by the time Billy finished paying for it, so with a laugh Billy dragged him over to a table off to the side, and they carried on with the conversation as if the training session had never happened at all.
Half an hour later, Billy asked if he was hungry, and then (after a phone call to Billy's home to inform his parents) one small trek later they were in a noisy diner sharing an enormous plate of French fries, debating the merits of Krees versus Skrulls (in which Dorrek had a considerable bias), whether or not the Human Torch could defeat the Super Skrull solo (in which Billy had a bias of his own, but he admitted it had little to do with skill on either side), and then, in a more natural transition, Billy told Dorrek what he knew about Captain Marvel in exchange for Dorrek's account of what it was like to be raised by the Skrulls. At first he was cautious, describing his experiences in a public place so soon after the latest invasion, but the diner was so loud that no one around them even seemed to hear the question, so he agreed.
"You might call it strange," he began thoughtfully, "But for me it was quite natural. As a child I was taught to perfect my shapeshifting, and to fight, as well. I was at the top of many of my classes, and for a while I learned alongside the Super Skrull candidates, but my halfling nature was not always a well-kept secret. The truth of the matter is, I only have the capacity to mimic two of the four abilities, so I could not advance alongside my classmates. I imagine they were glad to see me go."
"So you probably didn't know Xavin, then," Billy said quietly, and Dorrek shook his head. The name was still unfamiliar to him. "We should introduce you sometime, you guys might like each other."
Dorrek considered questioning him on that, but Billy gestured for him to carry on, so he did, albeit more quietly now, as the topic grew more personal to him. "As I told you before, Galactus consumed my home world years ago, along with my mother. Since the woman who raised me from infancy had already died, and my father perished on Earth, I was left without a family. Kl'rt, the first Super Skrull, took me in himself, else I might have been assassinated by the warlords vying for my grandfather's throne."
"Why would he do that? I mean, no offense to you or him, I'm kinda biased on this too, but he always seemed a little..." Billy twirled a finger around his ear. "Crazy, I guess?"
Dorrek smiled slightly, knowing he should be offended on behalf of his guardian, but the gesture was endearing nonetheless. "He's many things, but not crazy. He... loved my mother, I think. He regrets not being there to save her, and he often says that I remind him of her. Perhaps he takes care of me because he couldn't do the same for her."
Billy nodded slowly, fishing himself another couple of fries as he digested those words. "I'm sorry," he finally said, "About your mom. Moms. Um."
"It's all right," Dorrek replied softly, even though it wasn't. "It was a long time ago."
The mage studied him briefly, ate another four fries, then asked him about space travel, and the night progressed well from then on.
It was getting late when Billy finally looked at his watch and cursed, sliding out of his chair in a rush of movement that reminded Dorrek of his speedster twin, but with less deliberate grace, more nerves and twitches. "Oh geez- oh geez, I said I'd be home in half an hour- come on, we've gotta go." He tossed several bills on the table, grabbed his backpack and Dorrek's hand, and in a moment or two they were outside, walking back to the lair. It had begun to drizzle a little, threatening rain, and there was some concern about the comics, but Billy made a face at Dorrek's offer to turn his hand into an umbrella, so they put up with it for the duration of the walk.
When they reached the entrance, ducking in beneath the overhang as the drizzle became a downpour, Billy shrugged off his bag and fished out the comics, handing them over. "No way I'm taking them home in this weather, so I better leave them here. You can read them if you want, but keep your hands clean."
"I promise," Dorrek said in a tone that was so reverent that Billy laughed, punching in the code to open the door for them both and fetching his bike and helmet from just inside the entrance. "...Why not stay here? You'll be soaked by the time you reach your apartment."
"I forgot that you knew where it was," Billy mused, and Dorrek had half a moment to wonder if he was angry about it before he noticed the other boy's smile. "It's fine, Mom'll kill me if I'm late again. I can just change when I get there."
Dorrek had no argument to offer, so he stood aside to let Billy pass. He didn't.
"Hey."
The Skrull prince looked up, brows lifting, and suddenly Billy was very close, smelling of rain and fries and detergent and sandalwood. Cool lips touched briefly against Dorrek's cheek, and when he withdrew, Billy was blushing, and Dorrek felt the same redness on his own face.
"Forget dinosaur heads and man-eating flowers," Billy murmured, "That's how you court me. I... had fun today."
And with a nervous exhale he put on his helmet and pushed his bike out the door, and Dorrek watched him go, staring out the open door for as long as he could see the silhouette in the rain.
"Me too," he said to no one at all, and he was surprised by how much he meant those words.
--
Billy wasn't in training the next day. Kate received a text and announced to the team that he was sick and wouldn't be back until tomorrow, and after Dorrek borrowed her phone for the third time to check on him she called for a break and started pulling him towards the door.
"Kate, we're not done," was Eli's protest, but Kate shook her head.
"This is ridiculous. He's the only one on the team without a cell, and we might as well stop treating him like a prisoner. He already sneaks out half the time anyway." Dorrek started to object to that, but he too was silenced by her look. "Don't try denying it, we do have security cameras. And Vision notices when you're not here."
He shot a glare in the android's direction, but Vision merely lifted a synthetic brow. "No arrangement was made in exchange for my silence."
I hate robots, Dorrek thought with an inward sigh, but the fact that no one appeared particularly angry (except for Eli, who always did) was comforting enough. He followed Kate somewhat reluctantly to a shop not far off, somehow refraining from asking for her phone for a fourth time. Billy was sick because he hadn't stayed; of that, he was certain. Not knowing how sick he was, not seeing it for himself, being incapable of healing that illness... all of that was going to drive him mad by the end of the night.
"Dorrek, did you hear what I said?" He looked up at Kate's voice, and it was obvious that he hadn't, so she sighed. "I said, what's going on with you guys? I didn't think you were this close, but Billy actually asked me to tell you not to worry about him, and here you are, doing exactly that. So what changed?"
Dorrek thought about that, about the day before, and about what Billy had said before he left. "He's given me permission to court him," he finally replied, and had to stop when Kate abruptly halted mid-stride, glancing back at him.
"You're serious," she stated after staring at him for a long moment, brows lifted. "Wow. Wow."
"Do you have a problem with that?" Dorrek asked, somewhat defensive. Kate had been among the most accepting of the team from the beginning, so her reaction was unexpected.
Kate scoffed quietly, turning back to carry on her way without missing a beat. "Not exactly. I just realized that I'll probably have to get you an unlimited plan after all. Congratulations, you just officially became one of the monthly team-building expenses."
...That... was not what he'd expected, either. It was humbling, but then, so were all of Kate's matter-of-fact bouts of generosity, so after a moment of stunned silence Dorrek merely smiled and continued after her. He was given a cell phone and a brief demonstration of how to call or text someone, as well as the numbers for every member of the team, and then, in another moment of surprising kindness, Kate set him loose in the city rather than escorting him back to base.
"Eli will be angry," he said cautiously. He wanted freedom, loved the idea of exploring the area without restraint - and he loved the fact that he was trusted enough to earn that right even more - but not at the cost of his position on the team itself, something that, in his experience, the leader of said team could take away at any given time.
Kate waved him off. "He'll be fine, I'll talk to him. It makes no sense for us to trust you to watch our back in a fight and then turn around and keep you locked up at the base. Anyway, I don't think you'll go far."
"I went to the Savage Land with Tommy," he quipped, and she grinned.
"People always go to strange places with Tommy. He should be a tour guide on his downtime. Now go on, go check on Billy. I can tell you're dying to."
He thanked her again, twice, and snuck off into a nearby alley to grow wings and take off into the sky. He fiddled with his phone on the roof for a while, trying to decide whether or not to call Billy or just text him, and then he debated if he should let the mage sleep off his illness and use his newfound freedom to explore the city. He wasn't used to having options; during the time since his arrival and recruitment he'd depended on the schedule of his teammates, and growing up with the Skrulls had him shuffled from one place to another. Independence was a new concept for him.
In the end, he flew, and he didn't really pay attention to where his wings were carrying him until he found himself hovering near the sign on the roof of the office tower across from Billy's apartment, the same spot where he'd watched the other boy land and enter the building. He glanced up, spotting the window, and smiled.
Really, why not?
Billy wasn't in his room when Dorrek peered in the window, but after a long moment the bedroom door opened and the mage shuffled in, a mop of unkempt black hair poking out of a pile of blankets. Dorrek ducked out of sight as his mother followed him in, checking his forehead and fussing briefly over him until he nudged her off, mumbling something about going to bed. She kissed his cheek and withdrew reluctantly, with a strict order to call if he needed anything. Only when the door was shut and Billy turned back to the bed did Dorrek knock on the surface of the window. Billy just about fell over with a muffled curse, staring at the window for all of three seconds before gesturing for him to come in.
"What are you doing here?" Billy hissed the second he was through the window. He sounded hoarse, but his breathing was stable, so a bit of the worry that had coiled in his chest for most of the day dissolved into relief. "And shut that behind you, it's cold."
"I came to check on you," Dorrek answered casually - too casually, apparently, since Billy glowered at him in response. "Kate said you were ill. Because of the rain yesterday, I assume?"
The scowl deepened, and Billy glanced to the side. "Um. Probably, yeah. But it's better than getting grounded for being late again." He sniffled, plopping down on his mattress and grabbing a tissue to blow his nose. When he drew back his hands, he grimaced at what he saw and tossed it in the garbage can. "You still shouldn't be here. I look gross, and if my mom catches you-"
"You are not ‘gross', Billy Kaplan, you are my first mate," Dorrek cut in, fishing the new phone from his pocket, "And I have come to give you my phone number."
Billy gave him an odd look at that, quiet for so long that Dorrek retrieved his Starkphone from the bedside table and sat on the end of the bed to input the number himself.
"...Did you just." Billy paused a second time, gesticulating somewhat dramatically as he gathered his breath. "Did you just call me first mate?"
"I did. Skrulls don't date, nor do they ‘hook up' in many of the non-specific ways that humans do, so I wasn't sure what else to call you."
The brunet ducked his head again, a brief laugh dissolving into a cough that had him fetching a tissue again. " ‘O captain my captain'," he managed in a wheezing breath, waving off Dorrek's lifted brow. "I'll tell you later. Honestly, I don't know what to call you, either. I mean, we're not really... we're still just..."
"Are we not courting?" Dorrek tilted his head to one side as Billy buried his face in arms crossed against his knees, waving his hands in a non-committal fashion. "...Ah. I'll have to tell Kate that I was mistaken."
Billy's head shot up. "Kate? What did you tell Kate?"
"I said you let me court you, and-"
"Oh my god," Billy said again, re-burying his head, and Dorrek had finally had enough.
"Billy," he said firmly, setting the phone on the comforter between them, "Tell me what you want me to do. What you want me to be. I am a shapeshifter. I can be anyone, anything. I can be your friend, your mate, your partner. I can be your prince, or your serf. I can be Skrull, Kree, human, mutant, whatever you desire. Just allow me to be by your side, and I'll be content. Tell me what you want."
Halfway through his words, Billy lifted his head to stare at him, and he continued to stare for a little while after, silent and thoughtful and, Dorrek suspected from his expression, concerned, though of what, he could not deduce. Eventually Billy shifted beneath the blanket, nudging the phone closer with his foot until he could reach it. He held it in front of himself and checked the contacts to find Dorrek there, and then studied it, his gaze passing slowly over the name. His fingers curled in the sheets, and finally, finally, he pointed the phone at the halfling, glancing up. "I want you to smile."
Dorrek did without hesitation, and the camera flashed. Billy looked over the picture, then nodded and leaned away until his back hit the pillow, foot stretching out until it nudged against Dorrek's thigh.
"Let me sleep on it," he finally gave an answer, though it wasn't really an answer at all. "All I want right now is sleep. But... thank you. For checking on me."
His eyes were closed when Dorrek stood, breath evening out, so the prince wasn't sure if he felt the light kiss left on his brow. But he left as requested, silently sliding the window shut behind himself, and he spent most of the night flying over the city, discovering New York from the sky. He stopped a robbery at one point, but he wasn't really looking for crime, merely studying the details of his new home that he hadn't had the chance to discover before. Sights, scents, the ebb and flow of the people living there, where it was chaotic and where it was calm. He lost track of time and location, and he was perched on a fence in the middle of Central Park at six in the morning when he discovered that not only did his phone have GPS, but he had received a text:
/Mom says company's OK if I get all my homework done. Want to come over at noon?/
The noise he made when he discovered the invitation very nearly got him arrested by a patrolling policeman, and he almost crashed into a billboard texting back that yes, he would love to come over.
/Okay, good. What are you even doing up at 6AM?/
/I am the night./
Dorrek didn't yet know what ‘lol' meant, but he figured Billy appreciated the joke, anyway.
--
He arrived promptly at 12PM the next day with a bag of the comics Billy had left at the base the night it rained. It was a beautiful day this time, and he was all smiles, which felt odd because really, this wasn't an answer, either, not the sort that he'd been looking for. Billy hadn't professed his love or even his attraction, he hadn't asked for Dorrek to be anything for him, or agreed to be his ‘first mate' or whatever other title would make him smile the way he had when he'd first heard it. But Billy had invited him over, given him access to another corner of his life outside of the Young Avengers.
For Dorrek, that was enough.
Billy buzzed him into the building, and he made his way up to the apartment for the first time as himself, feeling much more shy and self-conscious than he'd ever felt in his life. It was a stupid thing to worry about; he'd gotten as many looks on his way over as he had back on his home world where fellow Skrulls would pause and point, whispering rumours about the halfling prince, heir to a shattered empire who was lucky to be alive. Here on Earth he looked human, but he was handsome, admired rather than repulsed, no longer an anomaly or some kind of freak of nature. To the Earthlings he practically looked like a god.
The object of his affection pointedly did not, when he opened the door to greet Dorrek. He looked better, granted, but he was still a frumpy mess of congestion and baggy sweaters. He ought to have been an unattractive mess, and the way Billy stared at him dubiously as he bowed to take the mage's hand and kiss it made him feel as if he were being tested, but in truth, he found it... cute. Which was a human word, but fitting. They had so many good yet redundant words in their vocabulary.
"Aren't you worried about getting sick, too?" were the first words out of Billy's mouth, bypassing all standard greetings or the customary small talk that humans used to keep each other at arm's length. " 'm probably gonna snot all over you."
Dorrek smiled, withdrawing his hand and stepping inside when Billy moved to let him. "My healing ability has the added benefit of protecting me from most illnesses. On top of that, my alien physiology prevents most Earth viruses from affecting me. By all means, snot away."
"Haven't you ever seen War of the Worlds?" Billy shook his head. "Never mind, I already know. Take your shoes off and come on in- do you want a drink? Snacks? I'm making coffee and soup."
Dorrek followed Billy into the kitchen and accepted a glass of water and some cookies, glancing around at what he could see of the apartment. It was busy, scattered, but fairly neat in a lived-in sort of way. There were framed photos everywhere showcasing three boys of varying ages, most of them Billy. With black hair amongst all the brown, he was at least easy to find within the mix. "Where is your family?"
"My parents are at work, and my brothers are in school. I'd be at school too, but nobody really wanted me to infect all my classmates. The only reason you're allowed over is because I told Mom about your super-healing." Billy stumbled over to the stove to give his soup a stir, tasting it briefly, then glanced over his shoulder. "I told them your name was Teddy, by the way, and that you're probably a mutant. Sorry. I just didn't think it was a good idea to deal with the whole Skrull thing so soon after an invasion."
"I understand," Dorrek muttered, setting the bag of comics on the counter near where he was seated, feeling a wave of something pointedly unlike understanding. "Would that be easier for all of you? If I was Teddy? The team, I mean."
Billy shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think any of us really care about what's easier anymore. We're kind of past the training-wheels part of the job, aren't we? Anyway, the only one who gets to choose who you are is you."
Dorrek was silent as he considered that, long enough that Billy finished fussing with the soup and turned fully to face him again. "Listen, about what you said yesterday... what I said just now applies to that, too. Humans don't always know what they want. It's probably worse for Skrulls, because you guys actually can change. I can't imagine being flexible like that. If I'd been able to change myself, if I had that ability my whole life, would I? To make people happy with what I am? Maybe. I don't know. But if I had it right now, I wouldn't. I'm not interested in living a lie."
What would you change? Dorrek wanted to ask. Why be different when you are perfect already? But Billy was already speaking again, and he knew that wasn't the right think to say, anyway, so he remained silent.
"What I'm trying to say is that you're the one who has to live with yourself as long as you're alive. Whether it's the truth, or a lie, it's all on you. If people don't like the real you, then what is even the point? What are you really getting out of it, besides some kind of empty acceptance? Eventually the truth comes out, and you're just a stranger to the ones you've been lying to. That's not how I want my relationships to go. What you see is literally what you get. So what's the truth, Dorrek?"
Such an unintentionally loaded question. The prince dwelled on it for a long moment, fingers twisting and twining together in a futile act of distraction, but Billy's focus remained on him. He didn't know what to say. He honestly could not remember the last time when the truth about... anything about him had been so important. Certainly never before coming to this planet.
"How can you ask that of me," Dorrek said quietly, his gaze dropping to the table, "When you only just said that we'll be lying to your parents, your family, about who and what I am?"
"My family isn't a part of... this," Billy replied without hesitation. He gestured to Dorrek, to himself, to the space between them. "Whatever this is. They don't even know I'm gay. It's just a name, Dorrek. I'm talking about the real you."
It wasn't what he had expected. He thought that he would be changing his hair, his face, his muscles, his personality, to fit the picture of Billy's perfect boyfriend. Smile more, go brunet, be taller, look like that, not like that, be beautiful. He could be beautiful. He understood what beautiful was to the Skrulls, the Kree, the humans. He didn't think he'd be changing ten years worth of a shapeshifter's mentality.
I am in too deep. This is truly alien thinking to me. This isn't the shape I thought I'd be taking.
Billy was still waiting for an answer, though, and the more he struggled with it, the more he realized that lies wouldn't get him anywhere with this. Not anymore.
"Did you know," he finally whispered, looking up, "That mirrors do not exist in Skrull society?" Billy shook his head. "They don't. We don't need them. Appearances don't surprise my people, because we look exactly as we envision ourselves to be. And, as many humans have observed, we all seem to ‘look the same' because the concept of ‘unique' serves no purpose. Instead of mirrors we look upon one another, and what we see in others, we see in ourselves, the ideal Skrull. The identical nature of our race is so natural, so normal, that no one even thinks about it."
His gaze drops back down to his hands, his body shifting, turning green. His hair shifts black, lines melting into his chin, every change and detail requiring focus, as much as his perfect face and hair has ever required of him.
"I am not a Skrull. Not completely. My halfling nature requires me to think, every minute of every day, about what I am, what I'm supposed to be like. I am the only Skrull in the universe with a mirror in my quarters when I live amongst my people. It isn't right to them, and no matter how much I try, no matter how I look at the others around me and imagine myself to be like them, it is never right. All my life, I have struggled, fought, and wished desperately to be normal." He looked up again, seeking Billy's eyes, finding them fixed on him as if every word he spoke was the most important thing he would ever hear. It gave him hope. "Here, Billy, in this place, normal doesn't even exist. People are unique, everywhere you look. Even identical, like you and Tommy- nothing about you is the same. And that is what I find so fascinating about Earth."
It's why I want to stay. It's why I want you, the Young Avengers, this life. It's why I have done whatever it takes to stay with you.
It's because this is where I belong, and I finally understand it.
Billy pushed away from the counter and approached him, dropping into the chair beside Dorrek's, and took his hands. He looked down, studying the colour, the features, lips tightly pursed as he searched for something. It was a long moment before he spoke up.
"Show me," was all he said, in a quiet voice.
Dorrek closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, shuddered, clenched his hands tightly around Billy's. And then he let go, just let the shift fall away.
Billy watched him change. His eyes were still closed, but Dorrek knew that he was watching. He felt fear for the first time in a long, long while, and he nearly forced his body to stop, to change into the handsome football star persona he'd chosen for himself before he arrived here instead of his true self. How difficult would it be, really, to keep it up for a little while longer? Until he was ready?
But he'd never be ready, he knew. It was now or never. Billy wanted it to be now. He'd promised to do what Billy wanted.
And deep down, it was what he wanted, too.
It was quiet for only a few seconds after he finished changing, but to Dorrek it felt like an eternity. "This is you? The real you?" Billy asked. It took a moment, but Dorrek nodded, and the mage fell silent again for a while. An eternity, again. Finally he felt soft thumbs rub over the back of his hands, the gentle squeeze of Billy's fingers around his.
"You dummy," Billy murmured at long last, "What were you so worried about? You look amazing."
A forehead touched his, and he breathed in the other boy's warm breath, a laughing exhale. He opened his eyes, and found Billy smiling at him.
"It's nice to meet you," he said.
--
Billy's parents returned with take-out and the two brothers several hours later, and they found the pair bundled up on the couch watching a Harry Potter film, the result of a conversation involving alien languages, Parseltongue, and Dorrek's Skrullos accent, which Billy swore up and down sounded like a bizarre mix between Russian and some other European country he couldn't determine. Parseltongue, as it turned out, didn't sound much at all like Skrullos, but an attempt at flirting in his native language had Billy laughing so hard he nearly coughed up a lung afterwards, so Dorrek figured it wasn't what one might consider an attractive sound. "The accent," Billy had reassured him, though, "Is really beautiful. You shift it away sometimes, but you shouldn't. It makes you sound tough."
So Dorrek kept the accent, and when he stood up to greet Billy's parents, accepting Jeff Kaplan's handshake and murmuring a polite "hello, sir", Jeff said, "It's a pleasure to finally meet one of Billy's friends. Where are you from, Ted? Pardon me for saying so, but your accent's very European, I just can't place it."
Dorrek glanced at Billy in the same moment that Billy looked back at him, and they smiled at each other. "Definitely not from around here," he replied, and that was all either of them said about it.
He did his best to be a perfectly courteous house guest. He helped Rebecca set the table and serve the food, he shooed Billy's brothers into their spots, he made herbal tea for Billy's throat despite his protests that tea was foul, he laughed at Jeff's jokes. He ignored the odd looks he kept noticing from Billy's direction, did the dishes, cleaned up the minefield of tissues left in the wake of the mage's illness. By the time he finished all of that, Rebecca had finished preparing dessert, and he was treated to a delightful looking layered confectionary he spent a few moments poking at because he didn't know exactly how to eat it.
Billy gave him a little nudge with his elbow. "It's strawberry shortcake," he grinned. "Try it, it's really good."
He did. Chewed it thoughtfully, swirled it around in his mouth a few times to let the taste linger on his tongue.
"This is amazing," he finally announced, louder than intended. Amidst confused laughter Billy hastily explained that shortcake didn't exist where he came from, and Dorrek had two extra portions while Rebecca copied the recipe out for him. By the time he left late in the evening it felt like he was part of the family, and Rebecca told him he was welcome to come back any time he liked. He barely had enough time to thank her before he was prodded out the door, Billy behind him, the door shutting at their backs.
Billy leaned back against it with a surprised exhale, staring up at Dorrek, wide-eyed. "Oh my god, you were incredible. I think my mother's seriously thinking about adopting you."
"That would make our relationship awkward, would it not?" Dorrek teased, his tone mild, and he was about to say something else - he forgot what, a moment later - when Billy abruptly pulled him down and pressed their lips together in a clumsy, forceful kiss.
It was not the stuff of dreams, a kiss that would set off any fireworks or shove them headlong into the bedroom in the throes of irresistible passion, the way romance novels implied that it would. But when they pulled away from one another, they were both breathless, and Dorrek felt warm, much warmer than he'd been only seconds before. Billy's cheeks were red from more than just fever, and he was staring up at Dorrek with a mixture of awe and terror in his eyes, gauging his reaction.
"Are you sure you won't get sick?" he breathed.
Dorrek touched Billy's forehead, feeling his temperature there, then his cheek, and then finally tilted his chin up for another kiss. It was more contact, less collision that time, and it took longer for the both of them to pull away. Upon breaking contact, Billy licked his lips, shuffling from one foot to the other.
"I don't want you to go," he whined, very quietly, and Dorrek felt his heart pick up the pace, felt a deeper warmth spread through his body. It went straight to his groin and he had to shift it away, but they were so close he couldn't be certain that Billy hadn't felt it first.
I could come back later, he wanted to say. I could enter your bedroom in the middle of the night and stay with you until morning, I could have you gasping for breath for hours, just like this. It's what we both want.
Instead, he kissed Billy's forehead, his cheek, his lips again, very briefly. "I'm glad you invited me today," he said into the brunet's ear. "Get some rest. I will see you again soon."
"Tomorrow?" Billy mumbled. This was his answer, Dorrek realized. At last, at last, he had an answer, and the answer was yes.
And so, "Tomorrow," was Dorrek's agreement, and he nuzzled Billy's - his mate's - cheek one last time before turning to leave at last.
He froze in place a second later, because a neighbour down the hall was staring at them from her open doorway. She fled upon being spotted, shooting them a disapproving glower before the door slammed shut, damage done. Dorrek heard a groan, and the solid thunk of Billy's head smacking against his own door.
"I guess I'm telling my parents that I'm gay tonight," he grumbled. Dorrek laughed and turned to look back at him, which meant he had to kiss him again for both comment and expression. It was the longest one yet, making it the hardest to pull away from. He managed somehow, backing away step by step, although Billy's hand lingered in his for at least a minute until they finally broke apart and he made his way to the elevator. Billy waved from the door as he stepped inside, a flustered smile hidden behind the hand over his lips. He looked tired, ill, and ridiculously sweet, and it took considerable effort to keep himself inside the elevator.
Dorrek received a text before he even reached the corner of the street, which said simply, /They already knew. How did they know?/
He laughed again, long and hard, ignoring the stares of his neighbours on the sidewalk. It had been a very good day.
--
"Tomorrow" became the next day, and the next, and the next- every day they found something to do together outside of training, even after Billy recovered from his illness, and the change was noticeable to everyone who knew them, for better or worse. They slept less, for one. Dorrek grew fond of the habit of sneaking into the other boy's bedroom at night, and while they could never get as far as either of them would have liked - at least, going by the frustrated impression Dorrek was getting from Billy every time they had to pull apart or shush themselves at the sound of movement in the hallway outside - there was something undeniably wonderful about falling asleep with a warm body curled up against his own. It became harder and harder to leave in the morning, especially with Billy murmuring into his hair and tightening his grip around him. But then the alarm would go off, or there'd be the shrieking of his siblings in the hallway, or his mother would show off her impressive radar for what Billy liked to dryly call "hanky-panky" (whatever that meant), and he'd have to leave.
Even the base itself had too much activity, between Vision and Tommy living there with Dorrek, the latter of whom had made it something of a game to interrupt them. Billy snapped at him for it once, and Tommy's response had merely been to shrug and say, "Learn how to lock the doors, bro."
"You vibrate through them anyway!"
The argument had carried on in that way until Dorrek finally stood up and commented to Billy about continuing regardless, shifting away his pants, which had made Tommy splutter a protest and rush out of the room so fast he nearly hit the wall on his way. It had felt like a victory until he noticed that Billy looked equally flustered about it, and then Eli had walked in, and...
Needless to say the headquarters was not much better about giving them sufficient "alone time". It was hard - very hard, Billy emphasized on occasion just to make Dorrek laugh - but he found that he didn't mind as much as he knew he ought. The important part, to him, was that he was still on Earth, and that they were at last together. And that was what alarmed him, too.
He loved Billy. He loved Earth. And someday he would leave them both behind, never to return.
It stung, that knowledge, every day when he was alone enough to remember it. So he let himself be drowned in the presence of his teammates, and his new lover, because it was easier than getting ready to say goodbye. The distraction of a team, and the delight of having someone to touch and hold on to, were his unspoken fate's placebo.
After Eli caught them training their tongues instead of their powers for the third time, he told them under no uncertain terms that they were either going to make some progress or their duo team-up would be officially dissolved until they learned some self control. Instead of risking their leader's wrath, Dorrek pulled Billy off to a side room of the basement area and sat down with him, their knees together, keeping a careful arm's-length apart. He'd suspected for a while that their frequent make-outs had a purpose beyond just being make-outs, delightful as they were, and it was time to learn what it was.
"Billy," he began, hands on his knees, "What new spells have you learned since we began training together?"
Billy blinked and leaned back, surprised by that. Apparently he'd expected them to dodge training again, after all. "Uh... I'm better at flying now, and my forcefields manifest a lot faster. I can carry more weight on my flying platforms. Oh, and remember those- magic handcuffs I made a couple weeks ago? Those were pretty good."
"They were, yes. They were also very simple constructs, weren't they?"
"I don't know if I'd call magic simple," Billy said in a musing tone. "It's a whole lot of focus on one hand and trial and error on the other. Magic's messy."
"I disagree." Billy made a questioning noise at that, and Dorrek reached out to take his hands, spreading them, palms up. "I have seen magic do terrible and beautiful things, tear the world apart and piece it back together again. And I have witnessed power in my lifetime, more, I think, than you can truly fathom. But you..." He lifted one of Billy's hands, kissing it, though the gesture was more of platonic comfort than romantic, and it merely caused Billy's brows to lift. "You have so much of it in you, Billy. Your entire body, your very being practically thrums with it. I have no magical talents whatsoever and I can feel it. Are you afraid of what you can do? What's holding you back?"
Silence filled the room, as the mage quietly withdrew, and Dorrek felt a flare of concern, wondering if he had pushed the issue too much and too fast. Billy was far more sensitive than he was used to, and the last thing he wanted was to drive a wedge between them.
"...It's... not that I'm afraid." When he finally spoke, Billy's response was hesitant, brows furrowing as if he were still trying to work the words through his head. "Or- I don't think that's it. Or if it is it's more a fear of the unknown, of not controlling it- but that's not new, Dorrek, I've always felt that, why is this-"
"Billy," Dorrek cut in, resting his fingers over the brunet's lips before he talked himself into another spiral of confusing monologue. "Slow down. Stop and think about it before you answer. Why?"
He looked reluctant, but this time, when Dorrek lowered his hand, Billy waited. He inhaled a deep breath, closed his eyes, and sat in silence until finally-
"The first time I used my powers... I almost killed someone." His head was bowed low as he spoke. "He was trying to hurt me, and he'd done it before, so I knew how bad it could get. I kept thinking, why does it have to be him? The one with all the strength, all the power in a fight. Those years of learning everything I could about the Avengers, admiring them, buying comics about every hero I loved- it was all worthless in the real world. And then I thought, I want to be powerful. I'd thought it a million times before, so I didn't think it was anything new, but..."
"...But it came true," Dorrek finished for him, quietly, and Billy nodded.
"I ran like hell. I saw him fall and I just- something in me just snapped. I'd asked for power, and it was... too much, you know? I wanted a glass of water and suddenly this dam burst inside me." His hands clench against the material of his suit, black and silver glinting in the dim light. "I thought I'd be expelled, or jailed, or sent to Xavier's school... I had no idea what was going to happen to me. I don't even remember the things that went through my head back then. But I did something. I must've. People saw what happened, they were right there, but... it's like nobody knew what happened. Nobody remembered. Kesler was fine, and nobody came after me. Everything was great, except that I remembered it."
Dorrek felt a twinge at what he heard in Billy's tone - pain, fear, unease. He recognized them easily because he'd experienced everyone of them, and it pained him to see the one he cared for going through it, as well. "Billy..."
"You asked me if I'm afraid," Billy interrupted quietly, "And the truth is, I'm not. But I don't know how to feel about that. I don't know what spell I cast to protect myself, and I don't know how to control the harder stuff yet. It's all been instinct, or desperation, or just... whatever I need. It's unreliable, but it's the only way to keep myself from getting stronger. I don't need that river. Just the glass."
Dorrek allowed himself another quiet moment to mull over that, fingers twisted together in his lap. It was a lot to consider. The truth and the uncertainty of it were equally telling - that Billy honestly, truly didn't understand his own strength, or more importantly, how to control it, but he was well aware that there was more to it than he was currently utilizing. That was the good news, at least. On the other hand, the bad news was that Dorrek had no idea whatsoever how to fix the problem. He was no sorcerer, no wizard, and he hadn't read a single book about magic, even during the time he'd spent researching Earth. A foolish mistake, and one he would have to remedy the next chance he got. But... maybe there was at least one way he could help until then.
Decision made, Dorrek reached out again, his hands closing over Billy's. He'd shifted his body unconsciously, feeling especially protective, so his hands dwarfed the other boy's, but his touch was as gentle as it could possibly be. It made Billy look up, startled brown eyes meeting tender blue. "Billy Kaplan," he said, "Power is not meant to be blocked away like that. It is in you to be used, and you must learn to control it. I know little of magic, but what I do know is that it does not take kindly to being locked in a cage. Like a wild animal it thrashes, it fights, and someday it will burst from you, and you won't be able to tether it."
Billy stared at him, and swallowed hard. He still looked surprised, but something in his eyes gave off the impression that he had known already, at least in part. Subconsciously, perhaps. Dorrek couldn't feel what it was like to use the magic, only recount what he knew of its nature.
"I don't... know what to do," Billy finally admitted, biting his lower lip.
That makes two of us, Dorrek thought. But he smiled again anyway, ducking his head and pressing his lips briefly against the mage's, daring Patriot to catch them in the act. This wasn't yet another initiated make-out, an indulgence or distraction. This was comfort, a promise.
"I'll help you," he vowed. And while he didn't know how yet, didn't have all the answers, or even a particularly solid promise that they'd succeed, Billy's returning smile made the attempt worthwhile.
--
They started out slowly, neither one really knowing what to expect of the other. Little spells, with Dorrek's quiet encouragements, harmless enchantments or spells on inanimate objects that occasionally misfired, but at least it was a step beyond lightning and flight, or the unintentional spellcasting he'd done sporadically in the past. Still, progress was so minimal that Billy was getting more and more frustrated with each failed attempt to cast, so one day Dorrek did something that, back amongst his own people, he'd pointedly avoided doing: he thought of his mother.
His first mother.
"Like them, baby. Look like them. Repeat it for me, sweetheart. ‘I want to look like them.' "
I want to look like them. I want to look like them. IwanttolooklikethemIwanttolooklikethemIwant-
"This is stupid," Billy snapped, pulling him out of his own memories, and Dorrek looked down to discover yet another rock phased halfway through the floor. They'd been working on teleportation, and thus far it had revealed itself to be the most difficult spell yet. "I can't do this one, seriously. I've teleported exactly once before, and that was an emergency. I don't think it's something I can actually control."
He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest with a soft huff, glancing away from the rock like it was suddenly the most offensive object in the world. Dorrek didn't move; his eyes were still trained on the mess at their feet, and it was as if the stone itself was a puzzle piece that had just slid neatly into place.
"You have to want it badly enough," he finally murmured.
"...What?"
"You don't actually want to teleport the rock, do you?" he continued, feeling a wave of excitement. If he's right- if he's finally figured it out- "It's pointless. It means nothing. What you really want is to learn how to teleport people."
Billy was looking at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Um, no offense, but duh. I don't think I'll ever have to teleport a rock in the middle of a fight. But I have to start somewhere."
"No, no. Listen." Dorrek placed one hand over the stone. "Forget about the rock. You're exactly right- it's doubtful there will ever be a situation where you'll have to teleport a single stone like this. There is no meaning in doing so. What is meaningful, what will help us all in battle, is you finding your focus."
"Isn't that what we've been trying to do here?" Billy asked, still baffled.
"What we've been trying to do is teleport a rock three feet away," Dorrek said in a dry tone, "Which is, as we have now established, pointless." He gripped the stone and pulled, hard, until it came loose with a crack, carrying with it a chunk of the concrete floor. Billy stared as he tossed it away. "There, it's three feet away from us. We could have done that an hour ago, effortlessly. Magic is not made to perform menial tasks. It's made to do the impossible."
"...O.... kay," Billy said slowly, after a pause, "So what's impossible?"
A slow smile crawled across the hybrid's lips. "When I first arrived here, I cloaked and hid my ship somewhere within the city limits. I want you to find it, without me telling you where it is."
"What? I can't do that." Billy frowned, brows furrowing uncomfortably.
"Have you tried?"
"Of course not, but-"
"Try, Billy," Dorrek insisted, offering his hands out, reaching out to grasp Billy's when he hesitated again. "Come on. Try, and want it. I promise you, I will make it worth the effort."
A deep flush crossed the mage's cheeks at that, and he finally closed his eyes, relenting without further argument. Dorrek doubted he earnestly believed it would work, but it was the first step in the right direction. "F... fine. Look at me, wanting it."
"Say it. Direct the magic, and let it flow."
"I want to find your ship."
Ah. And there it was. "Again."
"I want to find your ship."
"Again. Keep saying it. Say it faster."
"I want to find the ship. I want to find the ship. I want to find the ship I want to find the ship Iwanttofindtheship Iwanttofindtheship Iwanttofindtheship-"
As the seconds passed and the chant grew in length, a dim light began to flicker around their joined hands, flaring into a much brighter flame that spread to Billy's arms, shoulders, then to the rest of his body. It lifted him off the ground, and Dorrek had to stretch his arms out to keep their hands connected. His eyes reopened and the colour within was consumed by that same light, lost in the magic and blind to everything around him.
Or... perhaps not blind. After what felt like a glorious eternity, Billy stopped chanting, his fingers tightening on Dorrek's, and he inhaled sharply, his eyes widening. "It's... I can see it. Oh my god, I can see it, it's- East 16th? And- and Park Avenue..."
"Yes."
"It's on the roof of the pavilion in Union Square Park..."
"Yes."
"...I did a locating spell!"
The magic winked out of existence, and Billy dropped out of the air with an undignified yelp. Dorrek was there to catch him, though, and for a long moment they sat like that, staring at one another, with Billy lying in a tangle of limbs and cape in the Skrull prince's lap. He looked like he was in shock.
Then the moment passed, and a huge grin spread across Billy's lips. He sat up, rolling off of Dorrek with a breathless laugh. "Wow... wow. What a trip. I didn't think that would actually work..."
Dorrek snorted, reaching out with one hand to ruffle it through the mage's hair. "I did tell you that I would help you. I just had no idea that you would be so reluctant to follow my instructions."
Billy shot him a look, though it was without venom; still riding the magic high, Dorrek suspected. "Well, can you blame me? You don't inspire much faith when you start off your lesson plan with what basically sounds like, ‘I know jack about magic, but do it anyway'. You really need to work on your resume."
"Skrulls don't need resumes," Dorrek countered. "Our credentials speak for themselves."
"What're your 'credentials', those rippling pectorals?"
"As a matter of fact, we are extremely well-endowed in the-"
"Oh my god, don't you dare-" Billy twisted with an embarrassed gasp, shoving Dorrek down onto his back and straddling him, hands clenching in the fabric of his uniform's scarf. Dorrek laughed, hands sliding up to rest on each of Billy's thighs, thumbs idly stroking. Billy goes still against him, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, as if realizing too late what the comment and his subsequent response was implying, exactly. Especially considering that, with the mage's body pressed so close against his own, the tightness of his spandex body suit was letting him feel pretty much everything.
There was a strained silence, and then Dorrek said very seriously, "I was going to say, ‘muscles department', actually. But, ah, if you are interested..."
"Oh god," Billy muttered, his fingers loosening. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry."
"I'm not," the blond replied.
Billy stared, mouth open, until a hand shifted from his thigh to press over his lips. "My ship is unmanned, unmonitored, and very, very private," Dorrek continued, fingers moving again, cupping his cheek . "No one but you and I knows where it is. Now, I ask you again: do you want to go there?"
Billy's eyes widened even further, startled, realization dawning within them. And then they flared with blue.
"I want- I want to- I want to go to the ship, I want to go to the ship, IwanttogototheshipIwanttogototheshipIwanttogototheshipIwant-"
The world shifted to a glorious, dazzling brightness, so sudden and explosive it was nearly blinding, and Dorrek felt himself pulled, flames of energy dragging him to pieces and then putting him back together again. His stomach lurched uncomfortably, and he shifted it to ease the sensation. There were a million tiny strands of magic surrounding him, and he closed his eyes, unable to watch it anymore. All that remained solid and sure was Billy's hand in his, an anchor in the real world, even when it felt as if that very hand had dissolved with the rest of his body.
And then, just as suddenly, it was over; the magic flared a final time before winking out of existence, and Dorrek opened his eyes to find them both standing together in the center of his ship, dim emergency lights flickering on and off periodically, accompanied by the early-evening sun glaring through the windows. It smelled vaguely musty, but the air was still flowing from the vents he'd left open, so it was mostly just a lack of him that caused it. And, thanks to the magic itself, there was a vague scent of burnt electrical wire and something sweeter, more natural.
The spell. Despite being the most complicated spell he'd seen yet, it was also the fastest Billy had ever cast, and Dorrek felt a rush of excitement and anticipation; that meant, surely, that he wanted to be in this place. The magic wouldn't have so much as flickered, otherwise.
He wants this. He wants me.
Billy stumbled against him, blinking rapidly as the light within his eyes faded away, and he had a huge, practically delirious grin on his face.
"Oh my god," he gasped, gripping Dorrek's forearms like he was about to fall over. "Oh my god, we're actually- I just- are we seriously-"
He'd never seen Billy so happy before; the untainted glee in his voice was infectious and delightful. "We are," Dorrek laughed, winding an arm around Billy's waist to keep him upright. "You did it."
"We did it," Billy corrected, rocking back on his heels. "Oh my god."
Dorrek wasn't particularly interested in taking any credit for the success of the spell. He was much more focused on the way Billy's body was pressed against his, the way the mage held on to him, the way his eyes gleamed with pleasure and pride.
And the fact that Billy had teleported them here, with almost no effort, with the understanding that they would at last, at last, be alone. Not even his speedster brother knew where to find them now. Knowing that, feeling the way that Billy suddenly tensed in his arms as if he, too, had come to the same realization, Dorrek finally bent his head and pressed their lips together. And this time he did feel the difference: there was a level of freedom that had not been explored until that moment, an eagerness untainted by a fear of discovery. No ear pressed to the door, no pausing for footsteps, no parents summoning them for dinner or asking why the door was locked...
"Dor... Dorrek..." Billy drew back for air, his breath warm and gasping against the halfling's face, "I can't- I'm not- I've never-"
"Nor I," Dorrek murmured, his hands lowering to grip Billy's hips, lifting him up, and he felt a shudder run down his spine as Billy moved with him, the arms around his neck tightening, until slim legs wound around his waist, and they were kissing again, sporadic, desperate. "My love, are you-"
"I want this," Billy gasped, clutching him harder, his hips shifting clumsily against Dorrek's groin, swallowing his moan in another kiss. "I want this, I want this..."
Dorrek silenced him by backing him up into the nearest wall, his body grinding roughly against the mage's and delighting in the way he squirmed, tasting sweat on his neck as he licked and bit his own path over that pale skin, inhaled breath after breath of eager arousal. He wanted this, and it was all them, and it was magical, truly magical. He arched, and Billy twisted, and each time their bodies met he wanted more. And Billy, thank all the gods that may or may not exist in the universe, met him willingly each time, nails scrambling for a decent hold at his shoulders, losing it, finding it again, over and over. It was going to happen. Tonight, it was going to happen.
At some point they both fell, tumbling and laughing, onto the bed, and the night became impossibly better.
--
Dorrek came to his senses again hours later, when the setting sun had surrendered to the pale glow of the moon. For a long moment he stared blankly up at the ceiling, trying to place it; after living all that time in the guest room of the Young Avengers headquarters, he'd almost forgotten what the inside of his ship even looked like. He had slept much longer than he'd originally intended, but the evening's experience had been more draining on him than he'd ever expected.
Only then did it click, and he glanced over to discover the unconscious form lying in the bed beside him.
Billy was sprawled unceremoniously on his stomach, legs splayed beneath the covers, which only came up to his waist, leaving the handsome curve of his bare back open for admiring. One arm was curled around the pillow beneath his head, and the other was slung over the opposite edge of the bed. Super-hearing made it possible to hear the mage's soft snores, and there was a distinct wet spot near his open mouth. It wasn't the most attractive picture he'd ever scene, but it was definitely the most endearing, and Dorrek allowed himself to smile, reaching out to card his fingers through the strands of dark hair. Billy stirred, but didn't wake, pursing his lips and releasing a muffled, satisfied noise.
He thought of the night before, everything they'd done, and a wave of pleasure rushed over him, so intense he had to close his eyes for a long moment to ride it out. They'd spent the night together, and what a glorious night it was. The sounds Billy had made, the urgent clinging of long fingers and slim legs, the warm hardness of an arousal in his hand. That grand climb to the very pinnacle of sensation, the way he'd dropped right off the edge and found Billy with him at the bottom, smiling and laughing and fumbling to kiss him. It had been everything he'd dreamed of and more, so much more. Better than the undignified and thoughtless rutting he'd envisioned the first day he had spotted Wiccan on the battlefield. It was hard to fathom that they had come so far from where they'd begun in such a short amount of time.
Dorrek wanted nothing more than to curl up around Billy and go back to sleep, but he heard a noise, then- a faint buzzing, and probably what had awoken him in the first place. He laid quietly in bed for a long moment, listening to it hum and debating whether or not to ignore it, until finally he forced himself to sit up, shifting a pair of pants over his body and sliding off the bed. He fished around in the pile of clothes on the floor until he finally found it: Billy's cell phone, buzzing away impatiently. The time on the display, coupled with the word "HOME" flashing across the center, made him finally wake up to the fact that they were in a lot of trouble.
It was past midnight, on a weekday, and Billy's parents were calling.
He punched the hang-up button in a rush of nerves, glancing over his shoulder, feeling torn. On one hand, it would be irresponsible not to wake Billy and send him home. On the other, he looked so beautiful like that, so uncharacteristically peaceful, that the thought of disturbing him was practically criminal. Especially considering how unlikely it was that they would have many chances to repeat this experience in the near future, wonderful as it was. Perhaps, just for a little while longer, he could indulge.
He only managed to take one step towards the bed, discarding the phone on the bedside table, before a light on the piloting console began to flash red. Dorrek caught sight of it out of the corner of his eye, through the half-open doorway into the bedroom, and he felt a lump form in his throat, discomfort mixing with dread. Stubbornly he shifted it away to march over to the console and check. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe it was someone else- the Kree, or some other alien invader; Earth had so many enemies in space. The possibilities were endless.
It wasn't, though. He didn't even have to touch the console to read the message repeating itself over and over on the view screen. Kl'rt. Earth. Found. Highness. Skrulls.
"Billy?" His voice cracked a little as he called out, and he shifted his throat just enough to block it away, calling out more loudly. "Billy!"
There was a startled noise from the bedroom, a hasty shuffle of bed sheets, and a long pause. Then: "...Dor...?"
He sounded sleepy, confused, a little annoyed. From being awoken? Or from waking up alone? Dorrek would never know. He didn't look back, merely pulled back his chair and sat down, fingers clattering over the keys to send a response. A delay, perhaps, of the inevitable. It would have to be enough.
"You should call the others," he replied after a moment, after he heard shuffling feet behind him. The light was still flashing. "The Skrulls are coming."
And they are coming for me.
He heard Billy's sharp inhale from the doorway, and the sound hurt; it was unspoken, but apparently even Billy understood what the interruption meant. He punched ‘send' as Billy retreated, the bedroom door sliding shut behind him, and he sat back in his chair, feeling weary right to his very bones. A hundred regrets came to mind, then, but he couldn't dwell on them. One thought gave him a sense of peace, unexpected but not unwelcome:
If this is my last night on Earth, at least it was well spent.
He stood, decision made, and made for the bedroom. Billy was struggling to pull on his bodysuit with the phone at his ear, talking hastily with whoever was on the other line.
"Aren't you the one always bragging that you're faster than the phone?" Ah. Tommy, then. "Just get them. We don't have much time. Dorrek says the Skrulls are on their way."
"Billy," Dorrek cut in gently, reaching for the phone. Billy moved away, sitting on the edge of the bed to drag the suit up over his hips. "Billy, they're not here for a fight."
"Of course not," Billy snorted, tilting his head to hold the phone in place in order to use both hands, ignoring Tommy's incomprehensible chatter in his ear and sliding the tight material up to his waist. "That means they won't be expecting one; we can use that."
Dorrek felt another flare of pain, mingling with newfound pride. To have a team that would stand by his side, that would fight for his right to live where he pleases... to have a family who would die for him, it seemed.
And they would die. Horribly. So he reached out again, pulling the phone out from beneath Billy's ear, and said quietly, "We aren't going to fight, either."
"To hell we aren't-"
"I'm going with them," Dorrek interrupted, his voice firm.
A silence followed. Even from Tommy, uncharacteristically. Billy stared at him, emotions conflicting for dominance in his gaze- surprise, fear, outrage, worry, grief. In the end he settled on anger, snatching the phone back. "Just get everyone here, now."
He hung up and flung the phone onto the bed with a muffled growl, standing up and practically marching over to where his cape and headband lay in a heap on the floor. Feeling helpless, Dorrek moved to follow him. "Billy-"
Too late. Billy whirled on him, and had it not been for the broken expression on his face, the gesture would have been comical with the way the upper portion of his uniform twirled heavily at his waist. His chest was heaving slightly, his hair damp and unruly. Dorrek wanted to stroke it, to comfort him and explain, but the mage was already talking.
"Go with them?" he cried, fists clenching at his sides. "Go with them!? What the hell, Dorrek! You can't just leave!"
Months ago he would have snapped, yelled, scolded what he would have thought to be a small-minded human for being so ridiculously selfish. There were so many reasons for why this was the logical decision, why fighting was a stupid idea, and so few to stay on Earth. Back then, when he had first arrived, the choice would have been easy. Now, though? After everything he'd experienced? Everything he'd learned? Felt?
He felt broken, torn in two for even suggesting it. But the Skrulls were still coming, and they would not leave the planet empty-handed or even in one piece if they were greeted with conflict from their own prince. It would not end well. And even so soon after a foiled invasion attempt, they still had enough firepower to cause more damage than he cared to think about, just to reclaim him. So he steeled himself, shifted away the pain, brought back the mask, and met Billy's anger with a hard look. "I am their prince. I am Prince Dorrek VIII, heir to what remains of the Skrull Empire. They are my people. What would you have me do, Wiccan?"
The use of the codename, the impersonal nature of it, stung Billy. It was obvious; it always was, with the way he carried his heart on his sleeve. That honesty was usually so refreshing; now, it only made Dorrek hurt more than ever. Billy wasn't supposed to look at him like that. Billy wasn't supposed to care so much. Billy wasn't supposed to be his entire world.
Billy wasn't supposed to make him choose.
"We're your family," he whispered. "We're supposed to stick together. You-"
"My family is dead," Dorrek snapped back, and this time the anger and pain of it was real, not shifted. He clung to it, needing it to override his pain, the temptation to defy his own fate and stay here. He wanted to have a family on this world, to stay and bond and live freely. If he had been a normal Skrull, some nameless grunt in the military, perhaps...
...But even his subjects had duties to perform. Compared to the humans of Earth, love meant very little to a race of warriors, and it certainly could not come before their loyalty to their own kind. They had passion in droves - he'd proven that plenty last night - but it wasn't the same.
Billy was staring at him, betrayed and confused, so he hesitated, searching desperately for the words to explain his choice. Some pretty lie to frighten Billy away. Perhaps- if he expressed his original intent, to bed him and then return to his world, to seduce and use and be gone by the time morning came- if he told him there was no love here, no future, nothing-
The words wouldn't come. Instead, shakily, he said, "When I was taken from Earth as a child, I watched the woman who had raised me from birth be burned alive right in front of me. Because she was viewed as a traitor. Because she'd chosen Earth. Because she wasn't loyal to the Empire. My grandfather murdered her and then accepted me as the crown prince. He held me and ordered me to forget my Earth name and gave me away to a woman I'd never met before in my life." He looked up, and Billy was staring at him, horrified. He wanted to stop, but Billy, damn him, he asked and then- "Defying my people is not an option. Death is the only thing that can result from doing so. You may think me a coward, and that's fine with me. I can say farewell to my pride if it keeps you safe."
Billy took a step forward, his hand outstretched. He hesitated, and Dorrek closed his eyes. He felt that hand grasp his arm. "Dorrek..."
Dorrek shifted slightly in the mage's grip to let his fingers curl around Billy's, holding on tightly, their fingers twined. "I cannot lose you," he whispered, hating how pitiful his voice sounded, but physically incapable of hiding it. Not now, not from Billy. "I cannot watch you burn."
Billy wound his free arm around his shoulders, drawing him close until Dorrek's chin rested on his shoulder. "And you think I can just watch you leave?"
"It's the only way," Dorrek nodded, swallowing his reluctance. "The only way to keep us both safe. You must trust me."
He didn't receive a response, nor was there further argument, so he considered it a victory, however sour it felt. It really was for the best.
--
The team arrived before the Skrulls did, mercifully; Tommy was first, of course, vibrating through the wall of the ship and snapping at them for their mutual state of undress. Within ten minutes the rest of the team reached them, gathered in a semi-circle just outside the ship's door. Dorrek checked the radar; the Skrulls had reached their limit of patience, and were already hitting the atmosphere to fetch him. Billy still wasn't talking to him. Wasn't talking at all, actually.
It didn't matter. It was time to say goodbye, whether they liked it or not.
He stepped outside, walking calmly down the ramp with Billy a few paces behind him, sullen and reluctant in stark contrast to Dorrek's confidence. He faced the team, his true emotions carefully masked, and inwardly searched for what to say. He was a prince, a leader of the people. He knew how to talk to his subjects. He had no idea how to say farewell to his friends.
"...I assume Tommy informed you about the situation," he began, feeling awkward with the way they looked at him. The entire group looked uncomfortable, frustrated, pining for a fight and stung by the choice he'd made.
"I told them you're leaving," Tommy snapped. He looked decidedly more irritated than the rest, which surprised Dorrek. Considering how "uncool" he'd become, he would have thought the speedster to be the one most glad to see him go. Humans really were a confusing lot.
"So it's true?" Kate asked, her bow at her side, prepped and ready for a fight. "I thought you were joining the team, Dorrek. Were you just a spy after all?"
The accusation stung a little, but it was deserved, so he didn't protest. He simply shook his head, hands spread out in front of himself. "I have no evidence to the contrary, but no. I wasn't spying on you. No offense intended, but believe me when I say that the Young Avengers are not a priority to the empire."
"So what was all of this, a vacation?" Eli's eyes were on the sky as he spoke, watching for the inevitable appearance of some kind of Skrull armada. It wouldn't come, Dorrek knew; Kl'rt wasn't stupid. He would come personally to fetch the prince, rather than risk starting up another war with Earth. Their presence here was troublesome enough.
His words had merit, even if his assumptions did not. "Something like that, yes. That's... how this began. I didn't know it would end up like this. I didn't know I would... desire to stay. And I'm sorry I wasn't up front with the truth when I joined you."
"What is it, then?" Dorrek turned at the voice from behind him, and Billy stalked past him to stand between Tommy and Kate. She rested her free hand on his shoulder, and he glanced sidelong at her briefly before focusing on Dorrek again. His eyes were cold, and understandably betrayed. "What is the truth?"
He looked almost the same as the first day they had met, when Dorrek had transformed mid-battle. As if the trust built between them was crumbling, as if a friend gained was suddenly becoming something he couldn't recognize. It was infinitely worse this time, though, because in the time between he'd seen such passion, such affection in those eyes. It burned at his heart, and he wanted to look away.
He met those eyes, ignoring his own desire, and he let his regret show clearly. "The truth is that despite what I might want, this was always meant to be temporary. And my greatest regret is not telling you before today."
Billy's eyes widened slightly at that, staring at him. Dorrek couldn't read his expression this time, though. It was changing so much, so quickly, that it was impossible. He closed his eyes, blocking it out; he couldn't handle feeling such conflict right now. He had made his choice. It was time to see it through.
"I wanted you here to see me off," he continued, hands clenching and unclenching at his side, trying to keep himself carefully controlled. "So we could be together as a team, one final time. Lastly... I wished to thank you. You trusted me, welcomed me, despite my race and my heritage. You have... changed my way of thinking about humans, about Earth itself."
He straightened his shoulders, steeling himself, and looked up to meet each and every one of them in the eye. He looked, in that moment, very much like the prince that up until then he'd only claimed to be, never once proven. "I promise you this: I will do whatever is within my power to ensure that the Skrull Empire leaves Earth alone. One day, I will be the emperor I was born to be, and there will be peace between our worlds. I'm only sorry that the price of this vow is..." And he trailed off, there, finally shifting his gaze to Billy. The mage met his eyes for all of three seconds before glancing uncomfortably away. "...My life here," he finished, in a weak voice. My freedom, he wanted to say - it's what he truly believed - but he knew them. He knew that if they were aware of what he was losing today, they would fight. And they, like Billy, were irreplaceable family.
"...This is your choice?" Eli stepped forward, his gaze focused. He was searching for something, and it only took Dorrek a moment to recognize what it was. "You want this?"
Dorrek's face shifted, subtly, leaving no room for doubt or grief. Eli was looking for a lie, and Dorrek was very, very good at hiding that. "I do. They are my people. They've merely come to take me home."
Above them, the roar of an approaching ship was heard, and they all looked up - all except Dorrek. He wanted to watch them as long as he could, this one last time before he lost them forever. He would not face his fate just yet.
Finally they all stepped forward, reluctantly and one by one, to say their farewells. Eli clasped his hand in a firm shake, Jonas bowed, Cassie and Kate hugged him. Tommy punched his arm and refused to say another word. And Billy...
Billy didn't move. Dorrek waited, aching for it, but the mage wouldn't even look up at him. Finally the communication beacon within his ship began to beep, and Dorrek forced himself to look away, taking a step towards the console. Only then did he hear footsteps behind him, a hand on his arm. "Dorrek-"
He spun without a word, winding both arms around Billy and pulling the mage into his embrace. He was trembling, suddenly overwhelmed by a mixture of relief and terror. He'd been so scared- so worried that he was hated in the end, after everything-
"I'm sorry," he breathed, burying his face in Billy's hair. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted this, please forgive me, I never wanted to leave you..."
A moment passed, and then Billy's arms lifted to hold him back, his voice soft in Dorrek's ear. "...I know. I'm sorry I..."
"I know."
Billy held him like that for a long moment, the both of them ignoring the urgent beeping from within the ship. Dorrek wanted to make that moment last for an eternity, to stop time, to change who he was, to melt into human history and society and be born of Earth, not Skrullos, to truly belong here instead of with his people. He'd never been accepted there. He wasn't wanted. He shouldn't have to-
"Dorrek," Billy interrupted his thoughts, nudging him back to cup his face with both hands, "We can still fight. We can make them leave. We're not afraid to do this."
He knew that. Of course he did. Of course theywere. That was, after all, what made them heroes; always prepared to do battle with the enemy, with injustice. A part of him was so tempted to say yes, to face down the Skrulls and tell them, for once, exactly what he wanted for himself. They weren't afraid to fight for his right to live freely.
But I am afraid. I am so afraid of losing you to my own selfishness.
And if I'm going to lose you, then I at least want to leave you alive when I go.
"It's better this way," he whispered instead. It wasn't, but it had to be someday, for both of their sakes. "It's where I belong."
Billy studied him, and Dorrek met his eyes, expecting to find anger again, betrayal. And while it was true that those emotions still lingered, most of what he found instead was affection and unbridled sorrow.
"Liar," Billy said sadly, and leaned in to kiss him. He was crying, and Dorrek could taste the tears as he kissed back. It hurt, god it hurt, but as they separated again, as the beeping at his back grew more urgent, he felt... good.
"I am a liar," he agreed, a peaceful smile crossing his lips, "But I love you, and that is the truth."
Billy paused at that, swallowing hard. He lifted a hand to rub at his eye, blinking back more tears, and then leaned in to bury his face against Dorrek's shoulder. He murmured something, the words almost unintelligible, and Dorrek felt his smile grow.
I love you, too.
It gave him the strength to finally pull himself away from the mage, slowly backing up the ramp into his ship. He watched them all, taking in the sight of them, allowing it to be his final memory of Earth: the team, his team, the Young Avengers. Eli's pride, Tommy's ferocity, Kate's commanding presence, Cassie's kindness and Jonas's stoic strength.
Billy, in tears, loving him.
The ramped door slammed shut, and the last thing he saw was a sudden flare of blue around the frame. He slumped against it for a moment, then forced himself to the control console, flicking a button. He could see outside as the team stepped back, looking frustrated, disoriented. Billy was nowhere in sight; that flash of blue was likely a teleportation away from this place, the unexpected spell startling his teammates. They were both so good at running away, it seemed.
The console blipped one more time before Kl'rt's voice sounded over the comm. "Your Highness, finally. It's-"
"-Time to go, I know," he replied wearily, sitting heavily in his chair. It still smelled like Billy. The whole room was saturated in magic from the teleport, and he inhaled deeply, breathing it in, holding it.
I love you. I love you.
He cursed quietly and began to prep the ship for launch. The more he lingered, the harder this would become, so he didn't look out the window again as he took off and joined Kl'rt in the air.
"I'm sorry, my prince. But your presence is needed with-"
"I know. I've been gone too long already. You can tell me all about it later, just..."
"...I understand. We'll talk when we're on our way home."
Home. Dorrek glanced over his shoulder as the ground grew further and further away from him. Back to his people. Home is...
...
He cursed again, cut off the communications, and set the shuttle on autopilot, allowing it to follow Kl'rt into space. Then he buried his face in his hands and let the grief overtake him.
I love you. I love you.
I miss you.
--
A mothership awaited them in orbit, and by the time he docked his ship and stepped out to face Kl'rt and the rest of the envoy, Dorrek had regained control of himself. He shifted to his Skrull form for the first time in what felt like ages and marched down the ramp, nodding to the soldiers aligned on either side of the walk. Kl'rt was waiting for him at the end, looking stern and disapproving. Dorrek fully expected a lecture while they were alone, later, when public formality and respect for his title wasn't a factor in the situation. He wasn't looking forward to it.
"Your Highness," Kl'rt greeted with a low bow, instead, and on cue the entire group of Skrulls mimicked him. Dorrek felt immediately uncomfortable, responding with a dismissive gesture, and they straightened up again. "You look tired. Perhaps you would like to rest in your quarters for a while? We'll meet later, before we reach the throneworld."
It was an unexpected kindness, and Dorrek nodded, stepping past him and rejecting the escort of a guard, choosing instead to walk alone down the long corridor to the room he'd been assigned. It was the same ship he'd first come to Earth on, apparently, so at the very least the room was familiar when he stepped inside. Truth be told, he'd wanted to stay aboard his shuttle, indulge in the scent of Earth - of Billy - as long as it existed there, but he knew that Kl'rt would never risk him disappearing again. Even if he had no intention of doing so. That door was closed to him, as surely as the door to his room was, now.
He went to the window, gazing out at the Earth as the ship pulled away from orbit, his fingers brushing over the glass. He had no idea, no idea what kind of future awaited him when he rejoined the armada. It was strange, how little he had feared it before. But now, having tasted freedom, could he really just fall back into line? And if they planned to invade Earth again-
"I don't see a mirror in here."
Dorrek went stiff, startled by the voice, and he spun around, eyes wide. That voice- it couldn't possibly- but there was no one to be found- he must have-
"Sorry, hang on," the voice rang out again, coming from nowhere, and was immediately followed by the quiet chant, "Iwantobevisible Iwantobevisible Iwantobevisible-"
And then he faded into view- Billy, still in costume, standing in the center of the room, glancing dizzily down at his hands like he couldn't believe he was even there. Dorrek understood the sentiment; he shared it, staring in shock at the mage. And yet-
"Billy." He felt a rush of relief, closing the distance between them in two long strides and wrapping his arms around the witch as the magic concealing him fell away. Billy held him back without hesitation, trembling against him. They'd come so close- so close to losing each other, and he's so glad to-
Wait. No .
"Billy- you- you shouldn't be here." Dorrek pushed him back again, eyes wide, suddenly frightened. He'd chosen this to keep them safe. To keep the Skrulls from hurting any of them. For Billy to have followed him into space meant that it was all for naught. There was darkness and danger and fire in space, hundreds of thousands of Skrulls who had only just lost a very bitter and religiously driven war with the humans. One smuggling themselves aboard would not be easily forgiven, even if they were favoured by the crown prince. "You... it isn't safe."
Billy snorted quietly, leaning back and lifting a brow. He looked far too casual for someone who had just chosen to place themselves in mortal danger for the sake of his boyfriend. "That's exactly why I have to be here, dummy."
"For you! It isn't safe for you!" Dorrek felt a rush of frustration, mingling with panic, and he glanced back at the window. The weren't too far- he could smuggle Billy to Kl'rt, they could launch him back in the shuttle, he'd make it home if they hurried-
"I know what you're thinking," Billy cut in, reaching down to grab Dorrek's wrists. "I want you to stop. I'm not leaving you. Whatever's scaring you, whatever you think might hurt us... we're going to face it together, okay?"
It was astonishing, really, how much one small human could surprise him in such a short time. He knew that Billy wasn't afraid to fight, but to leave everything, everyone behind...
Setting his jaw stubbornly, Dorrek opted to appeal to that sentiment. Any way to get Billy to change his mind. "...But your family is there. Your team. And Earth is your home. You're needed."
Billy paused at that, gaze shifting downwards. It was easy to tell that his choice was affecting him, and not in a good way; his eyes were pained, conflicted. Dorrek had seen the mage with his family, how he loved them, and they, him. This could not have been an easy decision for him. The moment passed, however, and when he looked up again, his expression was firm. He lifted a hand to touch Dorrek's cheek, stroking gently with a thumb. "Earth has tons of heroes around to protect it. I figure it can spare one witch-in-training so he can keep his boyfriend safe in space."
"Billy-"
"And it's our team, not just mine. They'll understand- you're one of us. It wouldn't be right to just abandon you."
Dorrek knew he ought to keep arguing, to force the ship to turn around and send Billy packing. Sooner or later he would be discovered, and if that were to happen, it would get very bad for the both of them. Even now, there was no way for him to guarantee Billy's safety, precarious as his position had likely become during his absence. He knew that leaving him on Earth was the only way to ensure that he would survive. It was the right thing to do.
He couldn't, though. He wouldn't. Instead he held Billy again, more tightly this time, trembling from the gratefulness and fear he felt so strongly and for once didn't bother to shift away. Billy had done something unbelievably selfless for his sake, and he deserved to know how it had made him feel.
I'm so lucky. I'm so lucky to still have you here, by my side.
"I don't... know when you'll make it back to Earth," he whispered, fingers curling gently, almost possessively in Billy's hair. I don't know if you ever will.
He felt small hands clench in the material of his shirt, cool lips pressed against his neck.
"We'll go back together," Billy replied, and his tone of voice made it sound like a spell; it resonated so powerfully with conviction that Dorrek felt it too. "We'll go home."
And he believed.
--
e n d / (to be continued?)
--