madimpossibledreamer

          “So, why the shopping trip?” Pepper asks directly.  That earns her ducking around the corner to stare at the redhead.
          He looks slightly embarrassed.  “You don’t have to say if you don’t want to.”
          “Dr. Christopher Palmer asked me on a date again,” she answers finally.  There’s no reason to have Pepper at odds with her, and given the threat of Mordo, she can use all the reliable (or semi-reliable, in the case of Stark) allies she can get.
          “I thought you were a cute couple,” he responds instantly, then expands, “…when we met at the Gala.”
          “I’m reliably informed that I was, and still am to a lesser degree, an asshole.”  Her words are more bitter than she expects.  It’s probably guilt.
          “There’s a lot of that going around,” Pepper responds under his breath.  Then he adds, stronger and more reassuring, “You both were charming, too, though.  It’s the idea that you’re both capable of honesty, sometimes.  When you’re motivated.  You do care, when you’re given enough incentive.”
          “That’s quite the compliment.  Comparing me to Antonia Stark.  I’m overwhelmed.”  Her voice is dry, near-emotionless, but to her surprise she’s not lying.  Pepper’s honest words do boost her ego, just a little.
          “If the shoe fits…” he shrugs.  “Speaking of which, how are you for footwear?”
          “Does such a thing exist as dress boots?  I’ve grown rather fond of them.”  Plus, should another dimension attack or whatever else might lie in store…happen while on the date, it’s nice to be ready for it.
          Pepper’s eyes light up and he drags Dr. Strange to another aisle.

            “I’m thankful,” Johan says without looking up as the door opens behind him.  He doesn’t move from his position on the porch, smiling into the sunset as the wind ruffles his hair a little.  Not even as the body settles in behind him, and a hand reaches over his shoulder to intertwine in his own.
            “Even for my mother who apparently can match yours in immaturity and started the food fight at the table?” the accented voice asks.
            “Mhmm,” Jojo responds, leaning back into the embrace.  It feels good.  Like home.
            Fitz chuckles, running his free hand through brunet hair.  “And for Buffy eating all the mayonnaise meaning that Josephine had to go on a food run to make sure you had enough to make the deviled eggs?”
            “Yep,” Johan nearly purrs in contentment.
            “And for Dawn sneaking away during the middle and eating most of the pie?”
            “Oh, I’m pretty sure she’s figuring out that was a terrible idea about now,” Jojo grins.
            “And Willow talking about Anya and how she would’ve said this is a ‘sacrificial feast?’” the blond asks and finally gets a slight sign of tension in the shoulders.
            “Man, I miss her.  I mean, not that you’re not great.  You are.  If she was here…” Johan chuckles and turns to look in Fitz’s eyes.  The angle is awkward, but it’s an important moment.  “If she was here, she’d be happy.  A little confused, too, but she’d start talking about how she should’ve realized and been more supportive and would’ve found a dozen magazines for me and demanded we kiss in front of her and maybe begged for a threesome because it’d be different.”  He squeezes his boyfriend’s hand.  “But yeah, I’m even happy about that being brought up, because she was a good person and deserves to be remembered.”
            “And that ridiculous game, whatever it was?”  Fitz has some sort of point, probably.
            But he’s perfectly content to be here, continuing this potentially aimless conversation in the light of a good day and a beautiful sunset, in the arms of someone who loves him.  Even if there isn’t a point, it’s not the end of the world.  He’d know.
            “With Mom, Grandpa, and Uncle Kakyoin?  Mario Kart.  Screaming at each other is how you play.  We enjoy it, really.”
            “And—” the blond begins, and he shakes his head, leaning back further into the chest behind him.
            “And a boyfriend who keeps asking weird questions.  All of it.”
            He feels the chuckle more than hears it, and the soft kiss at the top of his head, too.
            “It’s a good life.  My family is bizarre and I love them all.  And you know, I have so much, that maybe sometimes I take for granted, but it’s awesome and I need to embrace that.  I don’t know what it’ll be like next year.  Maybe next apocalypse season’s the worst.  But I am blessed with everyone who has my back and great times and shows and one of the bestest families that exist and so many great friends and a boyfriend that I can’t even begin to explain how amazing he is.”

                “Rebecca?  What’s wrong?”
                She glances up, instantly tries to get rid of all traces of the homesickness on her face, but from his frown it didn’t work.  “Where are the others?”
                Yugi gestures vaguely, somewhere up ahead.  “Rebecca.”  That voice is sterner than the Yugi she knows.  Probably the Pharaoh.  She doesn't care too much for him, but he's not going anywhere anytime soon.
               “I’m…missing the celebrations, I guess.”  It’s odd.  It’s not one of those things she would’ve thought would be high on her list, particularly with how much time she spends with her Grandfather, rather than in America, but she finds herself missing it now.
               Yugi looks confused for a full minute before he asks, hesitantly, “Oh, yeah…isn’t today some big holiday in America?”
               She rolls her eyes, pokes at him.  With the speed he gets out of the way, she wouldn’t be surprised if he’s ticklish.  “Only the Independence Day, jeez.  Is all this stuff I hear about Japanese schools being so much better just lies?”
               Yugi looks flustered, but he doesn’t get to respond, because an idea strikes him.  “Stay there!” he calls, and runs off as fast as his short Muto legs can carry him.  She doesn’t get a question out before he’s gone.
                He returns with a glowstick and proudly hands it to her.  “I know it’s not exactly fireworks, or…whatever else, but…it’s something.”
                “How much did that cost?” she asks, digging around in her bag, but he quickly stops her.
               “You’re my friend.  And my friends deserve to be happy.”  The words themselves may be cliché, but…he means them, with all his heart, and there’s a power behind them that she would’ve missed, before he’d shown her what it meant to have a friend, to put your heart into whatever you did.  If there was one person good at demonstrating that, it’s Yugi Muto.
               “Téa’s lucky,” she states, and giggles a little as he turns bright red.  “But…I think I really needed a friend, so thank you for being such a good friend.”
               “You’ll always have a friend.  You’re not alone, Rebecca,” he says with that same fervor, and the smile he gives lights up the night as beautifully bright as memories of fireworks.
               (Later, Joey learns that it’s a holiday and promptly insists that they go to Burger World, rather than one of the restaurants in Kaibaland, as it’s ‘more American’.  He might’ve just been looking for an excuse not to give Kaiba any more of his money, but the way that he—all of them, really, even Téa when she’s not worrying about a potential rival—worry about her, welcoming her into the group as if she’s one of them, which involves a level of ‘take care of friends’ she hadn’t even guessed existed—well, it’s heartwarming.
               Mai shows up, and is welcomed with the same open arms.  How she always knows exactly where to show up is a bit of a mystery.  Somehow, it hadn’t occurred to Joey that he was flat-out broke, but between Mai, Téa, and Yugi they manage to scrape together enough to pay for the meal, which seems oddly fitting.  Tristan’s caught between admiring a new girl that Rebecca’s never met before, who seems like a little bit of an airhead and likes to speak in third person, and Joey’s sister, Serenity, who’s fairly quiet but definitely interested in all the stories being thrown around.  She’s not sure when the moment exactly hits, but it feels like home, and she’s beaming by the point her Grandpa and Grandpa Muto walk in.)

            You fear becoming irrelevant.  You’ve saved the world, and for some, that would be a welcome relief.  And for a little while, it is comforting.  There’s nothing riding on your next action, no villains attempting to destroy everything.  And not having your friends constantly in danger is a blessing.
            Then you realize you miss it.  The good-bye was painful enough; you don’t realize how difficult being normal is until it’s a little time has passed, and then the thought strikes you.
            What if your friends don’t need you anymore?  What if that’s the price to pay, for all the good times you shared?  What happens when all of you grow up?  Will the tides of the world sweep you apart, or will you just gradually lose contact until they fade away and become nothing more than memories of your youth, fleeting and beautiful as the cherry blossoms, not real beings by your side?
            You realize you hate the idea with a bitter passion.  The idea of a cold world before you met them, silent and dark, is abhorrent.  They ask you what is wrong, and you smile and decline to comment.
            The night finds you staring gloomily out into the waters, hugging your legs to your chest, as you try not to cry from the only insight the moon reflected gives.
            You start as one familiar voice joins you, then another.  You hide the tears as you realize you were never alone, not in life and certainly not in your fears.  They, too, felt the terror of the widening chasm, and you’ve somehow forgotten their strength, they who had had your back and stood by your side through every danger.  You might have been the one who held them together, but they’re hardly passive, either.  They care enough and with determination that has saved the world they’re teaching you again something you’ve somehow forgotten—that together, you are capable of anything.
            You smile a real smile as each joins you, slotting back into a place into your heart until the puzzle is complete and warm and beating again.  As the laughter warms the night and banishes the darkness, you reflect on truth: that bonds between people are the true power.

            Kujo Jotaro knows that this won’t last.  Even with his wife brilliant, understanding, kind, he knows what’s coming.  The storm cloud on the horizon isn’t DIO anymore, but when he tried to explain the temporality of what might be, she refused to believe, refused to have anyone else, and he feels it’s fated in his bones.

            He loves her.  It’s not the fairytale romance his mother pictures it as, but it’s great.  He found a woman who doesn’t annoy him.  She’s funny, beautiful.  She doesn’t take his silences as dismissal but happily joins him, cup in hand, unafraid.  He can make her laugh.

            She’s already beginning to become unhappy.  The end is starting, and he can stop time, but not forever.  Sooner or later, it will resume, and he wouldn’t want the silent world of timestop, anyway.  That’s a museum of the dead, not a world to live in.

            She knows that he has to be away, but thinks it’s a life he chose, to always be studying things abroad, rather than settling down at a nice aquarium close to home on a permanent rather than semi-permanent basis.  The money helps, but it won’t fill the void of his absence.

            She doesn’t know that he’s off saving the world.  Kind of like a superhero from one of the old man’s comic books, really.  Even if she did know, it would only blunt the pain, and bring something new.  Fear for him, fear that he would die.  The Foundation would bring her news of his death, but the ocean, after all, is still a dangerous place.  Explanations are too easy to come by.

            He treasures every moment, even Jolyne tugging off his beloved hat and wearing it proudly.  He takes a picture and almost sends it to Josuke.  (He does send it, later, when Josuke’s filling up his voicemail with complaints of ‘I’ve never seen my grand-niece!’  It doesn’t shut his uncle up.  The next twelve messages are about how adorable she is.  Jotaro almost smiles.)

            He knows what’s coming, and because of that he locks the memories in his mind for later.  It’s not sentimentality, but practicality.  Enjoy it while you can, and keep what remains inside your heart, a source of strength.  He could try to stop, but even if he stopped going after rogue Stand Users, the secrecy, the things he never says, would still build up in time.  Eating away at what he has.  He knows it will be gone, eventually, but it’s all right.  In the meantime, he can lie in the living room floor, worn out from pretending to be a shark and chasing Jolyne around, and she can cuddle up next to him and tell him how he’s the best daddy ever, and for a little while, he can believe that’s true.

            He knows it’s not.  He is himself.  But he is definitely going to do the best job he can, and if that means practically abandoning them to keep them safe, that’s what he’ll do.  He hopes Jolyne, at least, will understand in time.  He doubts it.

            He falls asleep, only waking briefly as his wife brings in a blanket and covers them up, and for a while, they can be a family.