deernet | Video | un: canary

[ the drive to stay away was still stronger than the urge for familiarity - add the potential of the unknown, the possibility of an end within that unknown... his thoughts on his family haven't changed; they're better off without him, and he'll settle for a stain glass window that reminds him of a 16th century church in spain. ]

Your sister fights too, now? [ what a family - he hopes they can find her soon.

he opens the door with his shoulder, steps through and draws her in behind him, resetting the door and adding a different screw to keep it closed. ] How long had it been for them? [ fine is good - fine is better than regret and desperation for a way back there, from here. ]

[ his relationship with his family is more complicated than she could ever imagine. she can't presume to know what the best move is for him, but at the very least, he's made it here in one piece. ]

Yeah, she's pretty good actually. Calling herself the Black Canary.

[ she shakes her head, chuckling at the idea and following him inside. she stays in close, slipping her hand into his and scanning the entry way curiously. ]

Almost a year? It was weird... like... like it was okay. That I was gone. Like I knew they'd be okay, you know?

[ honestly, it's too complicated for him to be able to muddle through it effectively, but that's probably part of the reason he's here, isn't it? ]

She's proud of you. [ he says it softly, with a small smile- it's far more touching to Booker than it probably ought to be, but it speaks to the impact sara's had, that she was loved and unforgotten. a lot to assume from a name, sure, but you didn't pick up a mantle like that for nothing.

the hallway leads to a kitchen along the back, the living room to the left, stairs to the right. weather-worn but clean, in better shape than the old apartment had been. there's a couch and an arm chair, here. he drops his bag on the floor, his attention back on her, a hand against her face.

a year - he can't quite remember, if that's a long time or not in a normal world. he's willing to bet it's both, though. ] What's the last thing you remember, from there?

[ It's an odd thought, that Laurel could be proud of her. That anyone could, but Laurel especially. Laurel, who she'd hurt so badly. Betrayed. They'd been through so much, the two of them. She still can't believe she's lucky enough to have managed to patch things up.

The place is impressive. Hell of a lot more room than the little apartment in Deerington. Turning to face him, she steps in and slips her arms around his waist, head canting up to meet his gaze. ]

From Deerington? You. Saying goodbye to you.

[ he knows she'd been worried - eyes glimmering with tears as they stood in front of her apartment window, telling him about her life as he told her about his. trading secrets, sharing. memories. regrets and hopes too, maybe.

it is a nice place, for his considerably low bar. the bed here even had sheets. his arms fall around her, chin tucking to look down at her. ]

I'm glad you went back. [ and that she wasn't around for the aftermath that followed their goodbye. ] Even if it was just for a while, and you ended up back here.

What's the last thing you remember from home?

[ there weren't many people in this world that knew her as well as he did. knew this version of her, the one not yet a leader, not yet a time traveler. they've traded pieces of themselves with each other, even if the words never came that freely.

she reaches up to brush her fingertips through his hair, offering him a small smile. ]

If I had to come back, I'm glad it was to you. [ she skims her thumb over his cheekbone, thinking on his question. ]

It was weird. Like I was brought back to the same moment I'd been taken to Deerington, but I'd been away from home for almost a year then. They dropped me back in Star City. Like... they knew that's where I needed to end up. [ she shakes her head of the thought. ] Last thing I remember... I found this antler in my bed. That night, after I fell asleep, I woke up here. [ she glances up at him. ] How'd you end up here?

Me too. [ the thought of her at home was comforting, surrounded by friends and family, people she cared about; the thought of her ending up somewhere else, alone? not so much.

he leans against her hand, but he doesn't imagine he'll ever understand how this place works - or how the last one had either. some sort of higher power, plucking and depositing people with impunity... it sounds reasonable but the idea that something is imposing its will on them will never sit well.

Booker nods as he listens, though he doesn't have much to say to that. like magic - and the real kind, not the gimmicky kind. ]

Deerington, it was... crumbling. And I could feel myself crumbling with it, disappearing bit by bit. It felt like it might actually stick, for once...

[ but of course he hadn't been that lucky. ]

[ She'd learned a long time ago not to question the why. Why Deerington, why this place, why the League, why the island. Her whole life seems like some ugly, grand scheme, an all-knowing hand picking up and dropping her into a new nightmare at its leisure.

At the least, he's here. The others, too, scattered around this place. They'll have each other, and they'll weather through the nightmares like they did before. Together.

She studies his feature quietly, thumb running over the curves of his face - his jawline, his cheekbone, his brow bone. When she speaks again, her voice is tighter, heavier with guilt. ]

I thought... I thought maybe if I left for home, you'd go, too. See them again. If I'd known you were really staying... [ She shakes her head, swallowing. ] I should've been here with you.

[ it's a together Booker's not used to being a part of, one that he still finds vaguely inexplicable. adopted into a group of people who seem bonded together despite what he has gathered are innumerable disasters.

but the together with her is more precious of any of them, and as much as he cherishes it, Sara's well being is a higher priority for him than her being with him.

he hates that sadness in her eyes, the edge of regret. the well of emotion and affection, and the intensity of it scares him so he defaults to his age-old fallback, leaning in to kiss her, hoping that will succeed where words fail him. ]

Don't do that cara, [ he mutters it against her lips, his fingers on his cheeks, palms cupping her jaw. ] It was no use to stay. You were right where you were supposed to be.

[ Together hadn't exactly been a staple of her vocabulary when she'd arrived in Deerington. If anything, she'd been thrown into the group - The Legends - as randomly as she'd been dropped into the town itself. An odd, found family that she never even remembered building. Friends who knew, loved, trusted a version of herself she was never quite certain she'd become.

There's something so comforting about that kiss, the way they sink into it, pouring the loss of the last few months, the distance, the emotion of it into each other. She tiptoes to push herself in closer, pressing her forehead to his. ]

Really missed you.

[ Booker had found friends in that odd group too, though he'd insist that was courtesy of Sara - but Sara? that was just the two of them, as they were, no pretenses or future knowledge or bridged connection. just two fucked up, broken, lost souls that somehow managed to soothe each other.

his self-restraint is slipping quickly; her face on the comm, her body in his arms, hand in hers. he presses his forehead against hers, leaning down enough to wrap an arm under her, bringing her up to his hips and stepping into her, an arm braced on the wall behind her as he tries to get closer. there's a throaty groan in response to her, and, ]

I didn't forget you. You were the last thing I thought about.

[ It's more of a commentary on the Legends that they legit both Booker and Sara into their group so easily. The team of misfits doesn't seem to have much in common, save for the fact that they're all screwed up in their own special sorts of ways.

Still, it's always so easy with him. Grounding. She knows him better, she thinks, than anyone else in her life. Knows the way he moves, the way his mind turns with a look or a kiss. She's pressing into him even as he shifts her in closer, feet tiptoeing before she clutches his shoulders and hooks both legs around his hips. Her kisses trail gently along his jaw, teeth nipping at his earlobe. ]

I'm here now. [ She murmurs against his skin, one hand slipping between them to start unbuttoning his shirt. ]

[ if being screwed up was the requirement to get in, at least they had that in spades. it might be the only kind of friend Booker was capable of making, right now.

she's moving with him, reading him like she's already in his head; he's missed this, the ease of it, the way everything else falls away until it's just the two of them. the way he doesn't have to think, can just be himself.

there's a bed upstairs, but he doesn't know if he can make it that far, and once she's set against him, he follows up her kisses with kisses of his own, mouth along her neck, head ducking. ]

Me too. [ it's as close to a promise as anything, a vague hint of how tied he feels to her. how much she means to him. ]

[ It's warm. Familiar. The way they slot in against each other, the way her breath hitches in her chest at his grasp. It's instinctive, dizzying - she lets out a soft hiss, fingers fumbling with the rest of his buttons before she pushes the fabric off his shoulders, neck craning up to catch his lips again. ]

Sebastien...

[ the familiar way she says his name - the uniquely Sara way she says it; it makes him feel weak in the legs, and he leans against the arm until he's sure he's got her.

then his hands start slipping up under the hem of her shirt, alternating between helping her stay up and groping her ass, and riding his hands up her back, desperate for her skin, sinking into her lips, tongue slipping out to deepen their kiss. ]

[ She still distantly remembers the first time she'd learned it. Drunkenly fumbled through the pronunciation, so sated with liquor and high on his kisses she was practically spilling over with affection for him.

It's a blurry memory, but a happy one. The walls between them crumbling slowly but surely.

The heat of their kisses builds quickly, her heart pounding in her chest, pressed flush up against him as she struggles to reach between them to tug his belt free. ]

[ and now he can no longer contain that affection. the physical desire, sure, that's strong as ever, but the hollow pit of his chest that feels full when she's there? there's no hiding that anymore, no matter how he tries or attempts to convince himself.

once he realizes what she's trying to do ( it does take an embarrassingly long moment ), he shifts to help, to create some space without sacrificing space. ]

do you-- [ breathless and heavy, and he's trying to draw the clothes off her shoulder, the rest of the words getting lost. there's a bed, a couch; fucking against the wall doesn't exactly scream romance, but he doesn't care unless she does. ]

[ it's so much more than physical now. has been for a long time. but after so much time apart, there's something more... urgent underneath. the desire to show it, to show him just how much she's missed him.

she shifts a little to give herself some room to tug his pants open, her answer immediate- ] yes. [ she claims his mouth again, pushing his jeans and underwear down her hips before fumbling to undo her own pants. ]

[ showing is so much easier than telling. especially when you don't know how to form the words or understand what to say. there's no mistaking this.

she's got the wall to brace against as well, his weight countering to help her find those pockets of opportunity, the air between them warming. the fabric of her pants grazes against his bare skin and he opens his mouth to hers, groaning, his hand working on the strap of her bra. he's already hard, and the shifts and grazes aren't helping any.

could they be more coordinated? yes. will that happen? very doubtful. ]

[ her breath hitches in her chest as the heat between them heightens, her jaw dropping to drag her tongue against his. teeth nipping at his lower lip, she squirms and pulls away from him slightly to tug her shirt and bra off, tossing them aside before tugging him in for another kiss.

coordination is overrated. she's too impatient for that now, too desperate for more. ]

[ he's missed the way she does that, her mouth against his, and when they break off he can't help the eagerness from bubbling over, the relief and his desire and pressing impatience from both of them drawing the start of a giddy chuckle out, though it's twisted and interrupted into something more desperate as they meet again.

it turns into a moan, quickly, and he shifts her weight against, just a little, so he can take full advantage of the newly exposed skin, his hands wishing they could cover every inch at once.

his tongue slips into her mouth, and he pushes against her, his body straining against hers. ]

[ it's only been a few months, but he's felt so damn far away in that time. another lifetime, a dream perhaps. now that he's here, there's a thirst arising she hadn't known needed quenching - her need for him building quickly with every kiss, every touch.

she hums eagerly into his mouth, sucking hungrily at his tongue as she continues to strip pieces of clothing away. hips pressing up into his, her hands wander his skin, breath hitching in her chest. ]

[ it feels every bit as natural and right as it has before; one of the first pieces of them that fit together, it still notches together as perfect as the first time, and not for the first time Booker how far down this rabbit hole they've come together, and how unlikely it is he'll be able to find a way out of it.

he sets her down, gently, carefully, tenderly, when they're finished, leans against the wall heavily as he keeps his face nuzzled against her shoulder, into her neck. ]

Stay with me a while? [ it comes out instead of what he really wants to say. ]

[ Strange, how they can be in a completely new world, completely new house, completely new horrors looming over them, and somehow it feels like coming home. He's been that for her for a while now - tucked away in their little apartment, warm and comfortable and familiar.

She's flushed, still catching her breath as her feet touch back to the ground. Her fingers drag through his hair, massaging his scalp a moment and keeping him in close. She smiles at his question, pressing a kiss to his jaw, then his cheek. ]

Long as you want.

Video | un: canary

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