Chapter Text
One of Vigilante's most obvious characteristics was his recklessness. And this lack of self preservation and complete disregard of the possible consequences of his actions ensured that Harcourt was almost always pissed at him for some reason or another - whether it was his tendency towards stupidity or how he constantly was nothing other than his annoying self.
Harcourt didn't like Vigilante. It was a fact. She put up with him, of course, as there wasn't really any other way around it. He'd wedged himself into this group and was not leaving at any moment. That didn't mean she had to be nice about it. Especially when he was messing up constantly. Like, right now...
"You're a walking fucking disaster! How the absolute fuck did you get injuried again?" She yelled, looking at him through narrow eyes as the blood seeped from beneath his torn sleeve in a slow but steady trickle.
"She got me." He nodded his head towards the dead body beside him, which had once been a woman who happened to have a very full chest and a butterfly shaped alien thing in her brain. "She got me good."
The injury had occurred because both Peacemaker and Vigilante had been distracted thanks to the boobs. Before her death, the butterfly had thrown an ornate letter opener from the stationary set in this very fancy office that had plunged its way into Vigilante's bicep, and she was swiftly rewarded by Harcourt's bullet in her brain. Why, oh why, did she always have to deal with these two dumbasses? Couldn't they, you know, stop with the whole zero braincell bullshit when they were on missions?
Out of missions? Fine. They could go around town and do whatever useless shit they wanted to. But on missions? And her missions specifically? Well, the fact that they didn't focus was becoming an insult. Harcourt was the leader of these fucking things. If either of those two himbos messed up, it was her reputation as a strategist and as a person who was goddamn good at her job that was on the line.
Was it a smart idea to take the 'boss' mantle from Murn? With each passing mission, Harcourt was seriously beginning to regret her choice. Sometimes, she couldn't even rely on Leota to help keep the boys on track.
"That's a shame. She had a great rack," Adebayo commented once she saw the big breasted corpse. Emilia's eyes flashed with something akin to anger before she managed to hide it behind her usual poker face, but Leota saw straight through it. "I know, I know, feminism and stuff about being more than our bodies - which I agree with, obviously - but those bazongas are stellar. It has to be said."
"No. No, it doesn't though. It doesn't have to be said."
From their earpieces, they heard John question, "Who's got a great rack?" over comms. Harcourt was surrounded by idiots on all sides, it seemed.
"You want me to take a pic?" Peacemaker patted himself down in search of his phone, which was quickly ripped from his fingers before he could even try. "Hey!"
"Let's get the fuck out of here."
With all the information transferred onto a USB that Economos would have to do his hacker shit to get past the encrypted files, the mission was over. They'd gotten what they need to. The extraction team could go home and not see each other for a while, which was something that Emilia desperately needed. Time away from these assholes was the only thing on her mind, so she began the walk back to the RV with a departing and very disapproving snarl to her teammates.
Peacemaker, ever the Harcourt simp, pushed Vigilante to encourage him to start following after her so that he didn't look so whipped when he did the same. As he made contact with Vigilante's shoulder, Chris accidentally touched Adrian's wound and he yelped loudly enough for everyone to hear.
"Ah, sorry, dude."
"Don't worry, man. It doesn't even hurt."
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."
Adebayo was last out. She looked over her shoulder and saluted. "Thanks for your boob service, soldier," she stated as she left. Keeya wasn't even going to believe how good they were.
When they were all back at the van, each member of the group had their own things to do. Chris was rustling a crisp packet out of the passengers side window to get eagly to follow the vehicle. Leota was in the process of changing out of her blood soaked clothes in the tiny RV bathroom, which was a real test of flexibility. John was driving. And Adrian was pitifully sighing every two seconds in an attempt that Peacemaker would pay attention to him and help him patch up his shoulder.
Somebody had to help the bleeding idiot out. Emilia was the only one left. Fuck. She didn't want to. She really didn't want to interact with him when she had the chance to put headphones on and disassociate until they got back to HQ. But... she couldn't let him injure himself further. He was an effective member of the team and it would be best if he didn't give himself an infection.
"Don't say a word."
She snatched the antiseptic wipe out of his hand and cleaned his wound haphazardly. Honestly, she didn't care if she was being too rough. He was fucking annoying her and, well, she wasn't afraid to show it.
"Ow, ow, ow, what the fuck?" He whined, swatting weakly at her hands but Harcourt wasn't budging. "Be careful with those man hands of yours."
If looks could kill, Adrian would've been dead so long ago. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case and, therefore, Harcourt just ignored him instead and continued her ministrations, muttering, "Shut the fuck up," which she knew was going to be ignored any way.
After cleaning the wound up a bit, she grabbed the needle and Adrian swore he saw his life flash before his eyes. Was this the moment that Harcourt went crazy and finally sewed his mouth shut? She'd threatened to do it before. He'd pushed her so far. Shit. Shit. Oh shit. He swallowed and shut his eyes tightly, bracing himself for whatever came next.
But, Harcourt just began to stitch his skin together - albeit begrudgingly - and blocked out Adrian's borderline embarrassing whimpers of pain. He was loud so it was hard to ignore. Still, he could help but stammer out, "Fuck. I wish we had a nice nurse instead of this shit. You wouldn't have to patch me up then," and, for once, the dumbass had a good point.
Leota was the best when it came to first aid, but she wasn't a nurse by any means. The group had often got into scrapes and dumbass fights, and it was rare that they got out of them without a cut or a broken bone or two. So, yeah, a 'nice nurse' would be a godsend. And, even better, Emilia had the perfect candidate in mind.
As soon as they got to HQ, Harcourt ordered everyone home so she could pace around Henenlotter Video in peace and think how she would bring the idea up with Y/N, mentally preparing the conversation in her head. It's not as if Y/N was difficult to talk to, quite the contrary actually, but Emilia knew that Y/N got out of the game so did she really want to be the one responsible for bringing her back in.
There was no harm in asking, right? All it was was a phone call. It was Y/N's choice.
"What do you want, Meeley?" was the first thing that Y/N said as she picked up the call.
Emila let out a chuckle at the nickname. Only two people in the entire world were allowed to call Harcourt anything other than her name - her father was six feet under so it was unlikely that he was going to say anything to anyone anytime soon - so it was a very exclusive club.
"What makes you think I want something? Can't I just call to check up on you?"
"Are you checking up on me?"
"Maybe."
Y/N laughed. The pair had always been able to understand each other without saying much. Their minds were wired that way, the two of them. There was little doubt in Emilia's mind that Y/N knew exactly why the call was happening, and that was only confirmed when she said, "Okay, I'll play along." The smile was evident in her tone.
"How are you?"
"A child threw up on my shoes today," Y/N answered dryly. "So I've spent most of my time since I got home from work unpuking my sneakers."
"Sounds thrilling."
"Yeah, I'm really living it up over here."
"I bet."
There was silence. It stretched on for another couple of moments, both women waiting for the other to give in to the inevitable. Neither of them wanted to be the first, but they both knew it was going to happen sooner or later. Pleasantries had never been their thing anyway, so why would they bother wasting their breath?
Finally, Y/N sighed and asked, "What's the gig?" Emilia had won.
"Medical aid on my strike team."
"When do I start?"
"How fast can you get to Charlton County?"
"I'll see you tomorrow."
That was it. The job had been accepted with exceptional ease. In fact, it almost seemed like Y/N already expected she'd be pulled back into the biz at some point, so why not be pulled back in by Harcourt of all people?
Just as she said, Y/N was in Evergreen by the next day. Her time as a 'normal person' had consisted of waking up every day at 7 to work as a kindergarten teacher and she was giving that up at the drop of a hat. She'd called into work to inform them that she was leaving, which must've seemed abrupt to her employers and, if she were being honest, she felt a little shitty for doing it over the phone. Plus, she'd given them such short notice, which was a dick move.
It wasn't like she needed the reference, though. Emilia knew how she worked. Technically, one of her first jobs at the DEO (Department of Extranormal Operations) was acquired through nepotism since Emilia had been the one who put her forward for it.
Walking through the doors of the gross looking building that The 11th Street Kids used for their base, Y/N looked totally out of place. She wore comfortable jeans, a flowing button up and rounded spectacles. She looked like a kindergarten teacher, well, because she was. Had been.
"Hey lady! I think you've got the wrong place!" Chris exclaimed. It's not a super secret base if just any innocent looking woman can walk in. Henenlotter Video had stopped being a renting store more than a decade ago when all the other blockbuster type establishments did. There was no way she was looking to rent a video 2023.
Adrian had been in another room. Harcourt had gotten tired of his constant yapping and forced him to sort some of the files in the back office out, which was totally unneeded and tedious by design. As soon as he heard Peacemaker's calls, he ran in, gun in hand and ready to fire at the first sign of trouble. 'Would be a shame to shoot that face,' he thought as he took in the sight of this intruder.
"Woah, put the gun down, hot stuff," she urged, nonchalantly raising her hands to either side of her head. She nodded towards the guy in the spectacles "I'm assuming that's Vigilante."
"What?! No!"
"That's totally him," Chris shrugged casually.
Y/N slowly lowered a hand, assuring them, "Harcourt told me to," as she rifled through her back pocket to pull out a post it note that she'd hastily written all the information Emilia had given her the night before and read it, "Patch up the, uh, idiot named Vigilante."
Oh boy, being injured was going to get a lot more fun for Vigilante now. It was so cool that Harcourt had given in and given him a sexy nurse. He'd fantasised about this moment. Still, he retorted, "I'm not an idiot."
"Her words, not mine."
Emilia, with John hot on her heels, entered from her office and was rather surprised by the standoff going on before her eyes. She glanced between her three employees, a sigh leaving her lips as she shook her head. "Adrian, put the gun away."
He obeyed immediately, but didn't look happy about it and crossed his arms with a pout. Harcourt gave him a glare, almost like a mother disciplining her child when they don't greet a guest in a polite way. Adrian huffed and let his arms drop to his sides. He was adorable, Y/N realised, and immediately chastised herself as she was about to infantilize an actual serial murderer.
"Take him to the back office and redo his stitches."
Saluting her new boss, Y/N waited for Vigilante to move in their intended direction - she had no fucking clue where she was going - and followed after him once he got the memo, which was when John caught his eye and nodded his head to gesture for him to lead this newcomer to the back office.
Chris, John and Leota - who'd just walked in from their lunch run - all watched as Vigilante opened the door wide, let the pretty girl walk in before him and look over his shoulder to catch Peacemaker's eye. He was rewarded with a suggestive thumbs up from his buddy, one of which Chris was harshly slapped on the bicep by his boss for.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Stop being a pig!"
"Not for me, for him! His type! His type, not mine."
Chris was practically squealing whilst trying to defend himself to the woman he had to look so far down to observe. Harcourt is like a chihuahua, small but fierce and willing to bite if given the opportunity.
"She's nerdy-hot. He's crazy for those." Leota added as she began handing out the food. "You didn't think that part through, did you?"
No. Emilia hadn't. "He's crazy. Period."
On the other side of the door, Adrian was pretending that he couldn't hear his friends talking about him through the door - which was a situation he'd been through way too many times for his liking throughout his life - and haphazardly jumped to sit up on one of the filing cabinets, his butt creating a loud thud against the metal once he made contact. Yet, that sound was overwhelmed by what would become a very familiar one to Y/N from this point on.
Thanks to his energetic display, Adrian had managed to knock over the pile of case files that was to the right of him and were stacked in a wobbly 7ft tower. That was what he'd been doing when she'd first arrived. There were a lot of case files (most of which were classified and mostly contained lots of pages filled with redacted black blocks) and he'd barely gotten halfway into putting them back in the cabinet in alphabetical order like he'd been told to. Honestly, he often wondered why they even bothered with the files in the first place. It was an unnecessary paper trail.
A bunch of binders fell directly onto his shoulder, causing him to whine out, move way too quickly, and rip his stitches, which made another, even louder and pitiful whine come from his mouth. "Motherfucker!" he swore while clutching at his shoulder tightly.
Yes, he was in pain and that sucks. But also, it was kind of funny. Y/N had a hard time not laughing at him, which was unprofessional, but still, she let out a huff of laughter and was rewarded with a glare. "Sorry. Sorry." She calmed herself. "Mind if I take a look?"
"Go for it."
After carefully moving some of the files off his lap, she pulled some gloves on and waited for him to take his cardigan off so that she could take a look at the wound. Stupidly, he'd decided to wear a long sleeved shirt and 'unfortunately' had to take it off. 'Hot' was the one she would use to describe what she was seeing, and cut that thought short before it got more detailed.
And sure enough, there was a circular thumb sized hole in his bicep that was beginning to bleed again.
"Is it okay if I touch you? I mean, it will be pretty difficult for me to fix you up if you say no... it's nice to ask beforehand."
"Yeah, sure. Touch me all you want. I'd love you to." He paused to clarify, "As in, I'd love to not be bleeding anymore. Not that you should jerk me off or anything."
Despite how he was acting, Adrian didn't mind being alone with this woman. She was nice to look at and, so far, she seemed generally nice. No other members of the team ever asked before touching him. She didn't even get offended at his slip up. Adebayo would've called him a perv, and Harcourt probably would've swatted at him.
As she examined the wound, Y/N teased, "Well, I wouldn't want to show favouritism on my first day, would I?" and any sign of his previous grumpy mood had vanished, replacing it was a goofy, wide smile with pink blush that was far too obvious against his pale skin.
Weird. He felt the need to blurt out, "I'm Adrian. My name is Adrian, w-what's yours?"
"I'm Y/N."
"Good name." He could feel heat rising to his ears. Shit, was it noticeable? Hopefully not.
"You feeling warm?" She brought the back of her hand to his forehead due to his sudden change in hue. Her eyes darted from his bright, almost sparkling green eyes to his flushed cheeks as he gave her a slight nod. His head was definitely a little warm. "Have you been feverish at all since the injury?"
"Uh...no."
"Tell me if you do, okay? Infections are a real bastard to deal with."
"Okay."
She moved to find the first aid kit Emilia had told her they owned to find a banged up old box with huge dents and rust around the edges with a 'Medical Shit' sign hastily stuck on a diagonal along the top. Inside wasn't any better. It was only the bare essentials. Thread. Bandage. And three remaining needles. Luckily, Y/N had prepared for this as, in her experience (especially with Emilia), secret agent types are careless when it comes to first aid. They'd rather painfully limp a mile on a broken foot than take five minutes to make a splint and limp that mile less painfully.
Removing the straps of her backpack from her shoulders - which Adrian hadn't clocked until that point because the straps were the exact same colour as her shirt - she lowered it atop the scattered files to the left of where Adrian sat and unzipped it to reveal a bunch of stuff that looked very clinical to Adrian. He recognised some of it but he'd never been very good at the whole patching up thing, despite how much practise he had.
"Who's responsible for these?" She gently wiped away some blood that was about to drip off his elbow. "Was it Emilia?"
"Yeah. How'd you know?"
"Cause it's so shitty."
Not very many people knew that Emilia had a phobia of blood. It wasn't as severe these days, mostly on the account that it would be impossible to do her job if she let her fear get to her. Throughout her career, she'd gotten better at controlling herself, yet there were still moments when the sight of ichor still unnerved her.
"How's the pain? I've got some numbing drugs to make it painless, if that would help?"
Numbing? None of the others had ever offered him that before - probably because they didn't have it, but if they did and John got hurt first, Economos would definitely use up their supply on one injury. Someone offering to make his experience better without needing to? Shit. He was totally enamoured.
"Drug me up," he practically sang, only for his face to fall for a second. "Wait, it's legal drugs, right? You're not going to inject me with heroin or some shit, are you?"
What an idiot. An amused smile tugged at the corner of her lips at his concern and she shook her head. "How have you caught onto my plan of slowly drip feeding you opiates on my first day?" she joked, and to help him figure out that it was, in fact, a joke, she held up the bottle of anaesthetic so he'd be able to read the label. Sure, he didn't know what lidocaine was, but he could guess that it was the type of drug that a medical professional would use.
And by the way she warned, "Now, relax while I do this. You'll feel a small pinch, but that's it. Ready?" he could see that she definitely was used to this procedure. Maybe she'd done it hundreds of times before, maybe thousands. But, this was a type of bedside manner that he'd never experienced before. Doctors were like this, weren't they? They were like this on some of the tv shows he'd seen.
Honestly, he had no clue and just nodded dumbly. Getting checked out professionally was out of the question - mostly due to the cost, but there was also the need to hide his secret identity and explaining to a ER nurse that a drug dealer stabbed him in the shoulder whilst they were mid fight was a great way at blowing his cover - and this lack of proper care was evident by all of the jagged and wonky scars he had across his chest and shoulders that she gave a quick once over to ensure that there was nothing that was screaming 'BIG PROBLEM' that she would need to attend to immediately.
All of his DIY attempts had done the job. They weren't clean or well done but they'd worked, she concluded and started on her repair.
"You have a habit of getting hurt."
"No, I do-"
"That wasn't a question." She silenced whatever bullshit excuse he was about to try to get her to believe and gave him a look. Not one that was unkind, nor accusatory, but one that conveyed the general message of: I've read your case file, don't even try to deny what I've been briefed about. "Before these guys, did you patch yourself up?"
A small - and somewhat sad - "Yeah, still do most of the time," was what he responded in a soft whisper, making Y/N's heart crack a bit inside her. She knew Emilia could be cold and dismissive at times, but surely the rest of the group weren't the same?
"From now on, if you get hurt, you call me. Deal?"
The way she said it felt like a promise and, as he saw the determined glimmer in her eyes when she looked at him, Adrian felt a strange sense of relief wash over him. He wasn't exactly happy to admit it to himself but he couldn't shake the feeling that he liked having someone he could rely on looking out for him. Especially if that someone happened to be a pretty girl.
"Deal." He smiled, hoping that she could see the gratitude that flooded through his eyes.
Y/N returned that smile with a grin of her own and focused mostly on her stitching as he sat there watching her work. She was efficient and precise, never wasting time or effort. It wasn't rushed, nor was she sluggish. Just calm and steady and comforting, something which he appreciated a lot more than he thought he would ever. The way her fingers touched him so delicately with such expertise, as though she were performing surgery instead of doing simple patching, made him melt into a puddle and forget about all of the thoughts that had been plaguing him that day.
If he happened to make a noise, she stopped and let her eyes drift to his and wouldn't continue until he gave her a nod that he was fine and she could carry on. He was always fine. He always gazed back with a goofy dazed smile on his lips and his legs swinging right next to her hips, like a child whose favourite toy has finally arrived after weeks of longing and waiting for it. If he had any self control, he'd turn his gaze to anything but the beautiful girl, yet he couldn't bring himself to do so and his eyes were transfixed on her every move. It didn't matter if it was his stomach rumbling or the sound of their coworkers arguing in the next room - they both disappeared into the background, forgotten in the warmth of that moment.
Stitching him up took no time. She took one last look and ran her finger across it to make sure that everything was properly sewn. "Not too shabby, huh?" She glanced at him, smiling softly before reaching for a bandage and wrapping it carefully around his arm to secure it.
As soon as she was done, she ruffled his hair, cheering, "Way to go, champ," then realised what she had done and rushed to apologise, "Sorry. I've been working with children for years. I didn't realise it was demeaning until I did it."
"Oh, no no no! It's fine," he assured, "I liked it. Not in a weird way. It was funny."
"At least I didn't try to give you a sticker or a lollipop."
"You've got lollipops?"
Did she? She had said that as a joke. The only two types of people that have candy on them constantly are teachers and perverts. And, often, it's hard to tell the difference between the two. Still, she searched through her bag and found one to hand to him. Adrian walked back into the main room with a fixed arm, a lollipop and some pep in his step. The lollipop was the only part that Chris noticed and instantly complained, "Where did you get that from? I want one."
"Y/N gave it to me." It was the smuggest Adrian had ever sounded. "It was the last one she had."
Despite a jealous Peacemaker constantly asking for sweets, the rest of Y/N's first work day was a success. Emilia went over how they would proceed - for now, Y/N would assist John in the van so she could prepare her kit and be ready to fix up whoever (Adrian, most likely) needed it as soon as the field team got back - and the squad all sat around firing as many questions at the newbie as possible.
Leota was interested in Y/N's previous life as a kindergarten teacher, but she was definitely more interested in the way Vigilante was sliding his arm around the back of her chair. That boy was anything but subtle. He kept flicking glances at her from time to time and, whenever he did so, a bashful flush appeared on his cheeks before he ducked his head down and turned his attention to his feet for a few seconds in an effort to un-pinkify his being. Adebayo had never seen Adrian act so shy before.
Anytime they went out to bars, Adrian would never really act that interested in anyone of any gender (other than Peacemaker, of course) and she assumed that his flirting technique would be like his personality - loud and crude and brash. This gentler approach was something that didn't suit him at all. He seemed much more reserved and sweet than the cocky and arrogant Adrian she had come to know.
Chris, on the other hand, kept asking very personal questions that Emilia had to keep stopping him from committing multiple HR violations in one single breath. While everyone else found it amusing to hear his incessant babbling directed towards Y/N, Harcourt spent most of her time nudging him and telling him to "knock it off" or "Shut the fuck up cause I don't wanna know this shit."
That was until Emilia happened to notice what Y/N was wearing. The button up. She'd seen that before. "Hey, is that my shirt? I thought I lost that years ago," she accused, reaching her arm over to pinch at the fabric of Y/N's sleeve and pull a face at the offending item.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Meeley."
Bullshit. Y/N was a pretty good liar but the thing about sisters is that they can often tell when their sibling is lying. Emilia now knew that it had been stolen from her wardrobe all those years ago, just as a lot of her clothes did back then.