Logs:More Than Physics

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More Than Physics
Dramatis Personae

Jax, Steve

In Absentia


2020-11-21


"Ain't been no projects like this before."

Location

<PRV> Sam and Steve's Apartment - Harlem


This is a third-story walkup in an aging historic building which, while not entirely crumbling, has a certain worn and shabby look, its plumbing and fixtures often in need of repair. The apartment has two small bedrooms, but makes up for it with capacious common areas. A single long space serves as living room and dining room combined, is semi-open to the kitchen, and has a surprisingly large bathroom with an antique claw-footed tub. Tall, drafty windows let out onto the fire escape from the living room and both bedrooms, and let in excellent light from the southern exposure.

The sleek art deco motif that runs through the living room furniture, while not strictly matching, has clearly been worked to coordinate. The dining set, coffee and end tables have been crafted with complementary geometric patterning, ebony accents providing a dark contrast to the warmer swirls of maple burl that feature most prominently. The sofa, love seat, and chair fill out the rest of the living room, a matching set upholstered in plush burgundy. The numerous lamps do not all match, some of them clearly temporary supplement for the inadequate overhead lighting.

It's a gray, chilly evening outside, dark well before suppertime and threatening rain that has thus far not materialized. All the numerous lights in the common area of the apartment are on tonight. Steve is actually home for a change, and though he's showered, dressed in clean clothes -- blue, purple, and white plaid flannel, comfortable blue jeans, white socks with gray toe- and heel-caps -- and poured himself a drink he still doesn't seem quite settled in. He's milling restlessly between his living room and kitchen and bedroom, tidying needlessly in between reflexively checking his phone for messages that he would surely hear or feel, pausing by the window every now and then to gaze out at the equally restless city street.

It's the fire escape and not the front door that Jax comes from, knocking rapidly on the window about .5 seconds after a 'here' text. He's in black skinny jeans, extremely glittery purple boots with iridescent fairy-wings fluttering from their side laces, a long black coat with purple toggles and lining worn over a soft silver-purple-and-black striped sweater, his hair in its typical brilliant peacock hues extremely wind-mussed, though he's attempting to scrub it back into some order with his fingers. A bulky pannier is slung over his shoulder, knit cap and gloves recently removed and resting atop it against his side.

Steve was on a circuit through the room when the text comes, and as he is distracted reading it the knock takes him by surprise and he drops the phone. His reflexes are plenty fast enough, but his right hand fails to close around the device which clatters to the floor. He stoops to pick it up and comes to the window, blushing furiously by the time he succeeds in fumbling the latch open. "Come in, please." He moves out of the way and offers Jax a hand down as if the other man were dismounting a carriage and not climbing in from his fire escape, offering to take his coat after. "Sorry, I'm a bit out of sorts, but -- can I get you something to drink?"

Jax's cheeks are already reddened but the color deepens as he takes Steve's hand and steps down. He sets his bag down, sheds his coat, tucking hat and gloves into its hood to offer the coat to Steve with a soft thanks (once out of his hands the coat's color shifts, lined in red, several-times-mended, considerably more worn and faded than it had previously looked.) He picks the pannier back up to heft it in indication. "I actually brung food -- I'onno if you like sorrel but you should cuz it's great. Ain't got the impression that dealin' with other, uh, worlds, leaving you a lotta down time."

Steve takes the coat -- if he's startled or bothered by its changing appearance he gives no indication -- and stows it in the entryway closet before returning to Jax's side. "Sorrel is a...vegetable?" he ventures uncertainly, "herb? I know I've heard the word. Can't quite place it, but you've never yet led me astray on anything great. Is this couch food or table food?" He eyes the pannier with real interest -- however out of sorts he may be, it's not dampened his appetite. "To be honest with you, I've not had much to do but stare at machines I can't begin to understand just..." His lips press thin. "...waiting."

"It's hibiscus. Well, a drink made from hibiscus. S'great an' it's pretty so it's great twice." Jax is already making a decision on the couch-or-table front, going to the coffee table to start unloading the takeout containers from the bag. Aloo-channa parathas, callaloo, fried plantains, black eyed peas and rice, jerk seitan. Several cold bottles of a deep purplish-red drink. "I don't know that anyone can begin to understand a tear in -- in -- I mean, before that we didn't even know there was other dimensions right? That's -- new information?" He glances up at Steve from where he's crouched by the table. "Could do way worse than B for pushing crazy boundaries of science, though."

"Hibiscus -- that's a...tropical flower? Big and red?" Steve peers at each item as Jax unloads the pannier, fascinated. "Didn't know you could make a drink out of it. Gosh, but this all smells good." He goes to the kitchen, returns with utensils and glasses, and sinks down to sit on the couch. "I sure didn't know, but the way the science types on my team were talking it sounded like a whole corner of physics about it. Theoretical physics, but still." His head shakes, slow. "I'm sure glad to have her looking into it -- even if I still can't understand a blessed word -- but the longer it's been the more I fear...the rest of the team isn't coming back." His voice is even when he says this, but his face has gone a little pale.

Jax lifts his arm, fingers starting to uncurl -- though his flesh shifts and warps as they do, stalk and leaves and petals unfurling straight from his skin to leave a brilliant red hibiscus blossoming in place of his upturned palm. "Ohsure, they're real pretty." The flower withers, crumples, fades away; by the time he shifts to sit on the couch beside Steve it's just his hand once more that rests on the other man's knee. "Can't imagine it's easy. The not-knowing. It's a good team, though, right? At the least they'll maybe be able to look after each other. Might be -- a better hope."

Steve's eyes light at the illusion of the flower, which inspires him to pour two glasses of sorrel. "They were a good team," he agrees. "Well -- I've never led this kind of project before." His mouth tugs to one side. "I think S.H.I.E.L.D. mainly put me in charge because Tony Stark was willing to listen to me. But they put in their time diligently and communicated and that's about 70% of teamwork from what I can tell." He draws a slow, deliberate breath. Rests his unbandaged right hand gently on Jax's. "I hope it's enough to keep them alive. Get them home, before we figure out how to seal this thing for good."

"Ain't been no projects like this before." Jax turns his hand over, curling his fingers around Steve's hand. "They're all human, right? They have that going for them, too." His jaw tightens. "Survival-wise." His eye lowers, brow creasing. "What happens after you close it?"

"I suppose not," Steve agrees softly. Something in the set of his muscular shoulders eases when Jax's hand closes around his deformed fingers. "One of them's a mutant. He doesn't look it unless he's stressed or hurt, but..." His shrug is minute. "...when he is it's darn near impossible to hide. And Tony Stark..." Ice blue eyes lift to meet Jax's. "If we close it, they'll be stranded there forever. It'll be incredibly dangerous for them, to say nothing of being torn from everyone they love here." His hand tightens, or tries to, against its limited range of motion. "But it's dangerous for the whole world if we leave it open."

"I don't mean that, I mean --" Jax shakes his head, lifts his free hand to flutter in the air as he searches for words. "Say they come back, an' you close it right this time. Then what? Do y'all -- pretend it didn't never happen? S.H.I.E.L.D. jus' sweep it under the rug? Staten Island gets its own little Area 54 type deal and they're like oh, other dimensions, what other dimensions? You gone to any government folks with this? And what do you say if so? Like -- here's a road map for what not to do or -- or..." His hand squeezes tighter, the warmth in it burning noticeably fiercer as he trails off.

Steve frowns. "There isn't -- actually -- any established protocol for this. I don't think it's ever happened before, that anyone knows of, and we've mostly been scrambling to figure out the rift itself, so far." He lifts his sorrel and takes a long sip. "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s MO seems to be -- just mop it up quietly and pretend we're not living in a world where these problems will keep coming up. But I don't think that's actually doing anyone any favors." He frowns abstractly at the food on the coffee table in front of them, his hand curling back around Jax as far as it can go. "Reckon I can twist their arm about that now, though."

Jax releases Steve's hand now, cheeks coloring red. He leans forward to pick up his glass, wincing just slightly when he settles back again. "It wasn't a leading question, exactly. I just don't -- know. How do you handle -- all that. What would happen if that got to be -- news?" His brows scrunch together. "-- Probably a lotta memes for a week an' then people would forget it."

"I really do think S.H.I.E.L.D. intends to -- just keep it under wraps." Steve sounds faintly incredulous himself, here. "I don't know what they do if it gets out anyway. Deny it until the memes run dry?" Sets his glass down, turns that hand palm up in a manual shrug. "But I think there's got to be a balance somewhere, between operational security and pulling the wool over people's eyes. What if this thing were to to start expanding? We'd need to inform the public -- as a matter of practicality, safety." He rubs his temples slowly. "I really do need more than just B on this. She's brilliant, but there's more to this than physics."

"I got genuinely no idea what kinda party you'd need for that sorta campaign." Jax's teeth scrape against his lower lip, head tipping back and his fingers drumming against his glass. "If you need to manage fallout 'round people finding out 'bout the rift, Luci's probably your guy. You got B on the science already. Not sure if you're worried 'bout -- anything what might come through the rift but it probably couldn't hurt to have some other folks could be on lookout or -- guard duty if that's a concern." The sidelong flick of his gaze to Steve is only the tiniest bit disapproving. "Some kinda medic -- wellness -- Care Bear -- type don't never go awry, who is making sure your team actually eats and sleeps because not doing that? That's how you get oops-we-accidentally-made-the-hole-in-spacetime-bigger in the first place."

Steve nods slowly, thoughtful. "Yeah, I did mean to talk to Luci about this, now that'm able to peel myself away from the rift for more than a few minutes at a stretch." He rubs the backs of his knuckles over his cleanly shaven chin. "Guards S.H.I.E.L.D. can provide in plenty, but it'd be good to have someone specifically on the team for fighting other than me." He meets Jax's eye at the last suggestion, his expression just a little startled -- and then just a little abashed. "I admit I hadn't thought of that and I really ought to have. Sure were times the Commandos could have used an actual medic and not just -- Bucky's steady hands." For just a instant he looks unspeakably weary, but then he rallies. "Appreciate the reminder." His stomach growls audibly and he blushes, glancing back at the feast spread before them. "And the food, and the company."

"Oh gosh have you seen -- actually, no," Jax cringes, rubbing a hand against his face, "you should definitely not see The Boys that mental image was horrifying but jus' take my word for it the creepy evil fascist version of you with the way creepy PR -- actually Luci would probably think it's hilarious honestly." He leans to the side, nudging his shoulder lightly against Steve's. A soft glow blossoms under the dishes laid out on the table. "The food only helps if y'actually eat it, honey-honey. The rest -- maybe can come after some calories."

Steve's head tilts, faintly quizzical. "I read up a bit about, while back when folks were tweeting at me about Homelander, but I haven't actually seen it." His eyebrows lift slightly. "Not sure whether that was an endorsement, a warning, or both, but now I'm kind of intrigued." He bumps Jax's shoulder back -- light and careful -- his chuckle only a touch embarrassed but fading into a grateful smile as he bows his head. "Bless us, oh Lord, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ, our Lord. Amen."