Keaton Will

Chapter 12

I wake the following day to a soreness I've become accustomed to in my sickness. It takes a moment to remember I'm not sick anymore, but instead, the soreness is from last night's panic attack. I shiver at the memory and hope I can stop myself from experiencing that again. It made me feel so pathetic, needing Sheldon or anyone to snap me out of the flashback. I look over at Sheldon and sigh quietly. That's not going to fade any time soon, the need to prove myself as not a weak, plus one is not going well after being sick and not even being able to take a bath. I hold back the eye roll that feels the need to present itself. I place my arm over my eyes as I scoff at myself. I've got to start pulling my weight. I hear a deep breath as Sheldon wakes up. He looks around and sees me. I'm still lying down, and my arm is still over my eyes, so I guess he just assumes I'm asleep because he just gets up and starts getting ready. I mimic his waking breath sound and move my arm. I blink as the light berates on my newly opened eyes. He looks at me as I sit up,
"Morning," I wave but don't reply. I sit up and look down at my arms. (Have I lost weight?) I notice my muscles aren't as pronounced, and I feel almost lighter. Sheldon smirks at me and nods,
"Yes, you have. You had a couple of weeks where you not only didn't eat anything but were also throwing up anything we tried to feed you." I blink in realization as his memories cover my own. Pictures of my weak, pale frame vomiting anything that even resembled food. I wince at the memory.
"That was not a good week," he shakes his head in agreement. I take off my shirt to examine my stomach and abs. I feel my stomach to try and see how much I've lost. I notice my abs aren't as strong. I will have to start building my muscle back up if I want to shoot a sniper again. I hear Sheldon's laugh and look up at him in confusion.
"Are you checking yourself out?"
"No, I'm seeing how much weight I've lost. I've always tried to keep a certain physique, and I was just thinking about how I will need to start working out again." I state, matter of factly, that his teasing went straight over my head. He rolls his eyes at me and my logical-ness,
"Yeah, well, just make sure you don't push yourself just yet. After all that coughing, I wouldn't be surprised if your lungs aren't quite ready to go back to the workout you were at before you got sick," the dots connect in my head as my brain checks what he's saying against the studying I've done. I nod in agreement,
"I understand; I have taken many health classes to be a CSI. I had to know how the body worked so I could determine how a person was killed in the first place. Those facts came in handy while I was shooting for Black." My tone flattens, and I speak with no inflections, so he can't tell the emotion behind them. He nods,
"Nerd,"
"And proud." My tone immediately lightens to teasing once he takes that dig at me. Some reactions are automatic; I've taught myself to react a certain way to certain things so I wouldn't be seen as abnormal. Sheldon noticed my change in tone and smirked at me,
"You gonna change this time or stay in those sick garments?" He continues to tease. I throw my shirt at him and look through my backpack for something clean. He lets out a very manly scream, and baseball dives away from my shirt. I chuckle at his childish antics and step into the bathroom to change. I glance at the bathtub and glare at its hold over me. Why do I have to be scared of this? Why can't I just not? Why can't I ignore this? The rational part of me questions while the knowledgeable part argues that humans are emotional creatures, and when something traumatic happens, it often affects the mental state. I know that, but why can't I just will myself out of this one? Or my claustrophobia? Why does fear triumph over logic? I'll have to study that when I get the time.
I finish getting ready and walk out of the bathroom, feeling more refreshed than I have in a while. I see Sheldon has picked up the room and everything is packed. I give him a confused look, "we're moving already?" He nods. Well, that's informative. Thanks, Sheldon. "Is someone on our tail or something?" I hate being so out of the loop. I used to lead the charge, and now here I am, not even knowing when and how we were moving.
"We're thinking about starting to go to air bnbs to help with the money."
I nod in understanding. I grab my bag. We robbed what we could from Patriarch Skyfold when we escaped, but that can only last so long. I've thought about being work for hire, but then I'd need a gun, and to buy a gun, I'd need money reserved for food, travel, and housing. As far as I know, the only weapons we have are knives, and that's because of Vivian.
"So, where are we heading?"
"Across town to a house we rented."
"So, why am I being kept in the dark?"
"Because we thought it through, we have all figured out how to block your powers. If Black ever figured out how to make another of you, he would target you first. No offense, but you don't understand what it takes to fight your commands."
I shrug, "about that, I fought off Siphon with a mix of being able to just ignore him and sheer willpower,"
He stares at me in wonder, "how?"
I'd typically find the utter shock on his face entertaining, but that has been trained out of me. Thanks, assassin training. I smile tauntingly instead. "Wouldnt you like to know,"
"I would, actually!"
A laugh escapes my throat. I seem to be doing that more recently. Sadness. I must be losing my touch. "I may teach you next time the occasion arises, but for now, we leaving?" he wipes the interest off his face and nods. We walk down to the lobby together. We check out and meet with the others. We pick up food at a fast food place and walk around. The scenery in Switzerland is truly amazing. I have never seen anything like it. The pictures don't do it justice. The mountains lining the horizon are gorgeous. We explore the old town square, and I admire the architecture. The difference in architecture between Switzerland's old buildings and old American buildings is astonishing. Swiss buildings seem so much more elegant.
We eventually make it to the house after eating lunch and watching the sunset. We unpack and choose rooms. I somehow got a room entirely to myself; I don't understand how but it happened. My lungs feel tight as I lay down. Interesting. I'll have to work on that. We got stuff for a grill out because we're American, and we found out they have a grill and thought of nothing better to do. I told them to tell me when they start. I know how to cook. My dad always brought me outside whenever he grilled, so I learned how to at a young age. I told them that, and they all got this really excited look? I don't understand why. It's just cooking. I rest for a few more minutes and try to get my lungs to expand more because I'm probably going to inhale some smoke. Mark knocks on my open door, and I sit up. Mark? That's new. I think this is the first time he's made it a point to talk to me.
"Hey, we're starting up the grill. None of us really know how to cook, so we've been living off microwave food and honestly kind of missing the meals from Black,"
"Really? It tasted like cafeteria food." I joke with him. I stand and walk with him outside to the grill.
"Yeah, well, anyways, when you said you could cook, we all got excited at the idea of real food."
"Ah, that explains the looks." I walk outside to everyone out there. I smile. They're all trying to act naturally and interact normally, but it's obvious they're here to watch me cook. The grill is turned on but open. I make my way over and close it, so it'll heat up. "Where're all the steaks?" I catch red hair blowing past me, and steaks appear on the outside table. I smirk. "How ready for this are y'all?" They all give me a slightly embarrassed look which says a lot.
"Most of us haven't had a good home-cooked meal in a good three years, and some of us longer," Michael answers. Oof. That's rough. I nod.
"Well. The grill needs time to warm up first, but after that, the first steaks should be off the grill in about five minutes." They look way too excited about food to be a group of assassins. I look at my surroundings. There's no fence around our yard, so I don't know how much land we're allowed to traverse. I don't see any neighboring houses, so the owner must have a lot of grounds. The mountains seem right in front of me as I look out. Almost close enough to touch. The moonlight shining off the snow gives it an ethereal glow that captures my attention. We are effectively surrounded by mountains, and it's beautiful. I breathe in the cool fall air and suppress a shiver. We're going to need some heavier clothing soon. That may be something we do over this next week.
I check the grill and find it's at the correct temperature for steaks. I smirk to myself and start preparing the food. I put the steaks on and skewer some vegetables for kabobs on the side. I flip the steaks, getting a beautiful representation of grill lines on the steak. I also finished putting the kabobs together and put them on the grill. We bought twelve steaks to cook in case we wanted extra or leftovers. Sheldon, it turns out, is more like the flags than I realized. He also has a fast metabolism to keep up with his speed. I've been told he's a black hole. I make an excellent twenty kabobs if people are still hungry after the steaks. Cooking for this many people is tiring but fun. There's an excited air surrounding me with the anticipation of fresh food. It smells glorious, let me tell you. My smell hasn't been quite right, and neither has my taste since I've been sick, but the smell of grilled meat somehow made its way into my brain, and it smells incredible. Mouth-watering food. I finish taking everything off of the grill and putting them onto plates. I glance around to find everyone has disappeared inside around the table. I chuckle and carry in the food.
"Wow, thanks for the help, guys." The excited chatter stops dead as I set the food in the center of the table. I laugh. Actually laugh at their reactions. They gave me a slightly guilty look then I swear I saw sparkling eyes as they looked at the food. "Go ahead. Dig in. Save me one of each." I threaten. In a flash, the majority of everything is gone, and I step outside to ensure I've gotten everything and the grill is turned off. I come back into them all, raving at my cooking. Ok, we'll. Keep in mind, raving for assassins is a total of two compliments and a lot of happy humming. I sit down in the open seat and bite into my own steak. Mmmm. The steak dissolves in my mouth. Perfect cook. That's it. I'm amazing. This steak is the best thing ever made. Sadly it won't last that long... we finish the food in under an hour and sit around the table with happy murmuring. After everyone has finished eating, we don't know what to do. We haven't had this much freedom in a long time... we decided to go with our cover and try to do something college kids would do. We gather in what seems to be the living room to watch a movie. There's only one couch. Grunty sits behind the sofa, so he doesn't block everything, and the girls take the couch. That leaves me, Sheldon, Michael, and Mark to sit on the floor. I remember something I used to do as a kid I collected all the pillows and blankets in the entire house and tossed them onto the floor in front of the couch. This earns chuckles from the girls, and I can only imagine them thinking about calling me a dork. I shoot them a playful glare, and the other guys catch on to my idea and set it up to something more comfortable for everyone than a pile. Sadness. I like lounging on piles. Surprisingly it was easy to decide on a movie. We didn't want to watch a spy movie for obvious reasons; comedy was out, and so was romance that just left action. We decided to watch the original Avengers, which I enjoyed because I'm a nerd. I enjoyed the movie as it gave a sense of normalcy to our current situation. It reminded me of old friends and popcorn. That's what we're missing! Popcorn! I get up and search through the cabinets to see if there's any popcorn around. Sadly there isn't. I check the time and find it's nearly 7:30. I think back; most places close around eight if I remember correctly. The nearest location is a mile away; I think I can make it. I go back into the living room to the front door, but Grunty holds out a hand to stop me. I look at the others who are watching me. Oh, right, I haven't said why I'm rummaging through the house.
"We're having a movie night; I want popcorn." The movie stops, and I look to see Miranda has the remote. She looks at Sheldon. Sheldon smiles like a maniac and speeds off. Pay for it! I telepathy him before he can get out of range. Grunty sets down his arm, and I stay standing so that when Sheldon comes, I can help cook the popcorn. I don't trust him to not get distracted and forget about the popcorn.
"Why did you think of popcorn?" Michael asks.
"Because old times-"
"No, why did you think of popcorn and not someone normal?" His tone changes to playful. Still. Ouch. I feel a smirk cross my features despite being called abnormal. I never liked being normal anyways. There are a few chuckles as the others look to see who will answer him.
"What? I'm not normal? I never noticed." I let sarcasm lace my tone. I think I've started a battle of wits. Ooh! We should do that movie next!
He scoffs at me with a playful glint in his eyes.
"You? You wouldn't know normal if it punched you in the gut."
"Oh, and you do?"
"Absolutely. I've been hit before."
"Must have been a painful realization that you had been touched by normalcy. I do try to live outside those standards."
He laughs. Aha! I win. He broke first. I also hear a few other people chuckle at our banter.
"Only you would actually try to stand out."
"I never try to stand out; I try to be different."
"Same difference," Mark cuts in.
"Not really; standing out means drawing attention to myself. Being different is something subtle that makes me not normal." He rolls his eyes at my response, and I feel Sheldon come back into range. He runs up to the door and walks in, holding a couple boxes of popcorn. I walk over and take a box from him and open it. The glorious smell of plastic and cardboard. Sheldon tries to snatch it back from me, and my football instincts kick in. I tuck the box in my arm and use my shoulder to cover the rest of my body. My stance widens, so my center of gravity is secure, and I won't be easily moved. He bumps into my shoulder and bounces off. A smirk crosses my face as I turn to go to the kitchen, only to find Mark in my way.
"What? Is it a big deal to make the popcorn or something?" He smiles at me and tries to grab the box from me. "If it's that big of a deal, steal from Sheldon!" I dodged his grab and turned around him only to bump into Michael. "Why?" He grins and tries to grab the box as well. "Traitor!" I duck under his arms, kick his knee out from under him, and look up to find Vivian Miranda and Delilah standing between me and the kitchen. Someone grabs me from behind, and I elbow whoever's behind me. Vivian takes the box from me and saunters into the kitchen. The grip around me tightens. Delayed reaction to the elbow much? I stomp on the foot nearest to me and elbow until the grip loosens enough. I break the arms off me and turn around to see Mark rubbing his stomach. "Why am I being attacked?!"
"Because you cooked dinner. So you get to relax why someone else cooks popcorn."
"It's just popcorn?" The confusion is evident in my tone. I try to catch my breath after the fight for popcorn, only to find my lungs tight. I start coughing, and Mark pats my back. I catch my breath but find myself wheezing. I try to breathe so it's not noticeable, but the surprised look of the others tells me I'm not getting away with hiding it.
"Why are you coughing?" Delilah's southern accent rings in my ears. I shrug in response,
"I was sick for so long because of the pneumonia or whatever I had; it makes sense my lungs aren't going to be up to par," which means I won't get to exercise like I want. I catch Sheldon's eyes on me, and he gives me a look somewhere between pity and "are you going to tell them?" What is he referring to? I look away and try not to make eye contact with others. It always makes me feel uncomfortable and awkward. They are all surrounding me. The realization hits me like drowning did. My claustrophobia causes my chest to seize, and I step outside of all of them so I can breathe. They let me move, so I don't feel claustrophobic. I only move further into the living room so I can see all of them, and they can see me. Vivian peeps in from the kitchen,
"I heard coughing; you good?" She pointedly asks me. I nod. She goes back into the kitchen. Oh, is he referring to the panic attack? I mentally facepalm. When you're a delayed processor. I seldom really process what goes on in my life immediately. It takes a while before I finally remember it and allow my mind to tuck it away correctly. There have been moments where I forget altogether and don't process at all, but that's a problem for another time. Right now, I need to ignore Sheldon's sharp gaze and focus on the smell of popcorn wafting through the air.
"Your lungs are still messed up? I thought once it was over, you'd be ready for action again." Miranda states. I shrug.
"I had a lot of water in my lungs that I had to cough up; it was painful. My lungs aren't back entirely to how they used to be because of it. It's normal." I let a casual air control my voice. The others nod, and Sheldon gives me one last pointed look before going into the kitchen to help with the popcorn. We have a lot of food, so I'm guessing we will stay here for a few days; I'm happy to cook meals. Maybe ill just have to sneak and cook so they won't scold me for being near heat. I don't understand why they are like this and why they can't just leave me alone, but whatever. Whatever makes them sleep better at night. I sit back on the pallet all the blankets and pillows turned into, and the others also move back to their spots. I notice mark rubbing his chest, and I smirk to myself. I could have easily mind-controlled them, but that would have ruined the fun. Finally, after hours and hours of waiting, we get our popcorn. Or at least that's how long it seemed. Sheldon and Vivian pass out the popcorn bags, and we return to watching the movie. A couple movies later, I feel something bash against my head. What kind of person would interrupt "Infinity War"?!

(3558 words)

IM SO SORRY!! I got caught up with school and life and totally didn't procrastinate this. I stinken hate writers block. It's aweful. I at least have a start to the next chapter so hopefully it won't take as long to get out! I made up for making you wait by making this chapter fluffy. I hope this is fluffy.. fluff isn't something I'm good at for Keaton. But hopefully you can tell he's happier and more relaxed than he was in the beginning. I'm going to try and keep making his tone more relaxed and he should start noticing things and pointing out details in the room soon so more words for me yay. Please comment on anything you'd like to see me out Keaton through! I have a few plans for later on but until then feel free to give me random prompts!

Please don't kill me.