#But whatever who cares about Curt mega? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smytherines · 1 month

Text

What we have as canon for Spies Are Forever is sparse. It's a spy comedy parody musical, it's ambiguous because that's all they have room for, leading to a lot of different readings that all have their arguments for or against. None of those are "correct" they're just interpretations.

So, keeping that in mind, we know Owen Carvour for around 10 minutes before the banana incident. A few minutes of that is him pretending to be another person, so I'll set that aside for now. Here are things Owen does in A1P1 in order of how I remember them:

Saves captured boyfriend from goon

Shoots goon in knees

Beats up a lot of goons

Reassures Curt's boss that the mission will be completed successfully, gets mildly insulted by a jealous Curt

Pushes Curt out of the way to shoot an armed guard that was aiming at him

Mildly chastises Curt for drinking on the job

Takes one swig after being teased and makes a face

Mildly chastises Curt for leaving a banana peel on the staircase

Agrees to four minutes on the timer

Attempts to re-lock the safety barricades to limit the explosion (I think?)

Gets cornered by goons

Building starts to explode, he finds out Curt set the timers for 3 minutes, they run

Slips, "dies"

Building explodes on him

The first part is the most ambiguous- when he's pretending to be a goon and Curt is being tortured. My personal read on it is that either Owen was already there for his own spy-related reasons and rescued Curt, or he somehow found out that Curt had been captured and went on a rescue mission. He does tell the goon to crush Curt's testicles, but I dunno immediately before that the goon tries to break Curt's fingers and gets his own fingers broken instead, so it feels like Owen is reasonably confident in Curt's ability to take care of himself? The worst thing that happens to Curt is that he gets tickled.

I do love the thought of Owen finding out Curt has been captured and packing a feather just in case he gets a chance to fuck with him. They don't establish who brought the explosives I don't think, but given that Barb doesn't say "use the explosives you already have" and that Owen spends so much time setting them, it was probably Owen?

Here's a list of things Agent Curt Mega does in A1P1:

Admittedly cool spy guy shit (breaking fingers, whatever was supposed to have happened with the pipe- its unclear to me)

Gets spotted by guard who hits the alarm

Talks to boss

gets annoyed that his boss likes Owen better, drinks, makes fun of Owen

Beats up goons

Eats a banana, leaves peel on stairs

Didn't wear rocket shoes because they didn't match his outfit

Ignores Barb explaining how the camera works to take the pictures they need

Suggests blowing the whole facility instead

Convinces Owen to try to beat their record of 6 minutes (Owen says to set for 4, I think)

Sets the timer for 3 minutes

Tells Owen they don't have time to do the safety barricade thing

Building starts to explode, tells Owen he lied, he set the timer for 3 minutes and they need to run

Tries to reach Owen when he falls, fails

Runs away before building explodes

What I'm saying here is that my read on A1P1 is that Curt sucks. Owen comes across as a decent enough guy, he comes off as a guy who cares about his partner and is looking out for him, and Curt is kinda the bad influence on him. Curt comes across as jealous and petty and egotistical, which is interesting because in so many pre-canon fanfics Curt is the pure precious babygirl and Owen is already a monster. I'm not saying it's wrong, I've read and enjoyed a lot of those stories and theories. It's just very interesting to me to see how the post-banana and pre-banana versions of Owen and Curt are sort of meshed together in a lot of fan imagination? I don't see it that way, but that's totally fine.

I wrote everything but this paragraph before the Mega bastards lore dropped. I already made a big big post about that, and it does sort of change my perception of Curt in some ways, but just on a basic level this is where I'm at

#cleaning out my drafts #spies are forever #tin can bros #agent curt mega #owen carvour #curtwen

22 notes · View notes

peterspideyy · 4 years

Text

chapter 15 | never look back

series masterlist

previous chapter ~ next chapter

————

“no. there’s gotta be another way.” thomas urged, walking to you all.

“like what? you’ve seen the building. she is our only way in.” gally replied.

she. teresa. when gally took peter, newt and thomas to the last city, he told them how the only way into wckd’s building, is her. sighing heavily, you don’t understand why your brother is getting upset with using teresa as our way in. she’s betrayed us.

“you really think she’s gonna help us?” thomas spat back.

“i don’t plan on asking for her permission-“

“am i missing something here,” brenda laughed, “this is the same girl who betrayed us, correct? same dick?”

gally chuckled, “i like her.”

“what’s going on?” brenda asked thomas. you looked down, unaware of the person sitting next to you, was about to erupt, any second.

“what you afraid your little girlfriend’s going to get hurt, hmm? this is obviously never been about rescuing minho.” peter shouted, looking at your brother. your eyes went wide at his sudden outburst, placing your hand on his, but he pushed it away.

“peter, what are you talking about?” thomas mumbled.

“peter.” you whispered, but he ignored you.

“teresa,” he stood up, “she’s the only reason, minho’s even missing in the first place, and now we finally have an opportunity to get him back, and you don’t want to because of, her?”

he walked forward, causing thomas to walk back.

“cause deep down inside you still care about her don’t you,” he whispered, hatred laced in his voice, “just admit it.”

“peter i-“

“don’t lie to me!” he screamed, shoving him against the wall roughly, making you jump at the sudden action, “don’t. lie. to. me!”

you rushed to your feet, placing your hands on his shoulder to calm him down. instantly, he dropped his arms to his side, his shoulders untensing, looking at your brother, “sorry.”

he turned around looking at everyone, before his eyes landed on you, “i’m sorry.”

before you could even reply, he walked away, gripping onto his arm, as he did so. your eyes watered, as you took in what happened. something has been off with him. the way he clings onto his right arm, all the time. the way he’s been getting…agitated. guilt started to overcome you, as you realised you should of been paying more attention, to the clear red flags.

thomas looked at you, “i’ll go and see him.”

“no,” you shook your head, whispering, “i’ll go.”

he nodded, as you followed where peter went, until you came to a roof. he was sat down on the edge, looking down as he fiddled with something. walking up to him, you sat down next to him.

“sorry about that. back there.” he mumbled.

“love, what’s going on?” you questioned.

he looked at you, “guess i can’t hide this anymore.”

you furrowed your brows, in confusion as he rolled his sleeve up to reveal, dark black veins, starting to pop up out of his skin. your face fell, and your throat started to close up, as you realised the one thing you wouldn’t have expected. he’s infected.

“no, no, no,” you shook your head, as your stomach started to do flips, “why didn’t you tell me?”

he smiled, “didn’t think it would make any difference. and i didn’t want you to worry. which is what you’re doing now.”

“peter, i only worry cause i love you. w-we can still fix this, though. we can get you the serum i-“

“we worry about minho first. not me.” he interrupted.

“no. peter-“

“y/n, he needs us. so if there is even a slightest chance that we can save him, we can get him out of there, then we have to take that. no matter what the cost.” he replied, before bringing his hand up to wipe away a tear which was falling down your cheek, which you didn’t even realise until the soft action.

“i will get you the serum, you hear me?”

he nodded, “okay. come ‘ere.”

he opened his arms up, making you shuffle closer to him. leaning your head on his chest, he rubbed your back, as you looked up at the last city, while you listened to his calm beating heart.

————

newt took the bag off teresa’s head, making her breath out heavily, as he walked back, sitting down next to thomas. she looked at everyone before freezing, eyes wide at the person who was supposed to be dead, all those years ago, “gally?”

“here’s how this is gonna go,” gally started, “we’re gonna ask you some questions, and you’re gonna tell us exactly what we need to know.”

she looked around, before landing on you, making you glance down.

“we’ll start of simple,” gally carried on, standing up and moving a chair in-front of her, “where’s minho?”

she shook her head, looking at thomas, “you guys don’t seriously think-“

“don’t look at him,” gally interrupted, “why are you looking at him? look at me. he’s not gonna help you.”

you scoffed, glancing at peter who was starring at teresa, harshly.

“now, we know you have minho in the building. where?” gally urged.

she looked down, “he’s with the other’s in holding. sub level three.”

“how many others?” newt inquired.

“28.”

you all looked at brenda.

“i can make that work.” she smiled, looking at jorge, who nodded.

“no,” teresa spoke, “you guys don’t understand, the whole levels restricted. you can’t get in without a thumb print id.”

“that’s why, you’re gonna come with us.” thomas mumbled.

“well, i don’t know,” gally titled his head, “we don’t necessarily need her.”

he stood up abruptly, walking over to a table, “not all of her.” he picked up a scalpel, walking back over to her, “we just need her finger.”

“gally, back off.” thomas warned.

“are you squeamish? i guarantee you she’s done a lot worse to minho.” gally said, pointing at her, making you roll your eyes. he’s right. she probably has done worse to minho. but, despite everything she’s done, she doesn’t deserve it.

“that’s not the plan,” thomas spoke, standing up; taking the scalpel out of his hands, “back off.”

“it won’t make a difference. do whatever you want to me. you still won’t get through the front door. the sensors will pick you up-“

“we know,” thomas interrupted, “we’re tagged. property wckd.”

he crouched down by her, looking up, “you’re gonna help us with that too.”

he gave her the scalpel, making her look at him, before she nodded.

————

you sat on the edge of the couch, your hand on the back on your neck, as you pressed a tissue to where your tracker was, but it was removed by teresa, just a couple of minutes ago. you were starring at nothing in particular on the concrete. you were just, thinking.

tonight, you were hopefully going to free minho. finally, see him, properly, after six months of not being with him, since you were taken. you couldn’t bare to think, of what wckd has done to him. all the pain. suffering. he’s had to deal with, is probably horrifying. so, the fact, your going to save him, from that devilish place made you glad, beyond words could explain.

your mind then progressed to peter. you have the get the serum. you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if he get’s worse. or turns into one of those, monsters. you hate. despise that the world has done this to him. he doesn’t deserve to be infected. he deserves to be immune. he deserves the world, but instead the world repays him like this.

“hey,” peter’s voice interrupted your thoughts, “this is for tonight.”

he placed a wckd’s guard uniform on the couch by you, before sitting next to you on the other side, placing his left hand on your thigh, stroking it gently. you looked at him, catching a glimpse of his arm, before freezing under his touch. it was getting worse, and bigger each second. he noticed this, frowning slightly.

“y/n-“

you cut him off, by placing your lips on his. you felt him stop at the sudden action, before relaxing. you deepend it, silently telling him, how you were going to get him the serum. as well as freeing minho. you started to cry slighty, as you poured numerous of emotions and feelings into the kiss. pulling back, you breathed out heavily, as you leant your forehead against his.

“what was that for?” he mumbled.

“can i not kiss my boyfriend?” you giggled.

“of course you can. but, it was just out of the blue.”

you sighed heavily, opening your eyes to see him already deeply looking at you, “i need you to understand, that i will get you that serum.”

“minho first, then serum.” he replied.

you nodded, “i know minho is our priority, but i-i…you will get that serum. no matter what. j-just seeing your arm, made me remember the maze. when i was trapped in there for the night. in that moment, all i could think about was you. i don’t want to loose you. i never want to loose you.”

he nodded, taking in your words, “you won’t loose me, okay? promise.”

unbenknowest to you, peter didn’t agree with risking the chance of not saving minho, over saving himself. he thinks minho is way more important, than him. and he knows if he says this to you, you won’t agree. so, he keeps you happy, by kissing you passionately, ignoring the pain soaring through his body, as he allowed himself to feel every bit of love he has towards you.

“i love you, peter.” you whispered.

“i love you too, y/n.”

————

a/n- so, are you all okay? ahah! i think a few of you guessed it, but i didn’t want to spoil anything, but yeah. do you think peter will get the serum as well as saving minho? we’ll find out soon :)

————

taglist-

@dreamofaprilsblog @parkersbliss @missmulti @rubberducky-jrr @serasara809 @parkersdarling @euphoniumpets @whatthefuckimbisexual @parkeret @juliebean247 @used-avocado @justahockeylover @jjmaybankswif @annoylinglyaries @24kbucky @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @agent-curt-mega @5sosupernatural @pcterparxer

72 notes · View notes

gentlemen-of-lies · 3 years

Text

Gentlemen of Lies, chapter 11

An unoriginal pain in the A.S.S

Beginning

Previous chapter

Next chapter

————

It was late when Curt arrived back to America, too late to report to Cynthia, although he was sure she wanted to see him as soon as possible; a hunch that was confirmed when the driver of the car that was taking him back to his apartment handed him a note in Cynthia’s almost illegible handwriting.

See me first thing tomorrow morning, and try not to fuck anything else up :)

She always added a smiley face, and knowing Cynthia, it wasn’t to soften the blow, but if anything, it was to make the note more threatening. It worked. Curt couldn’t shake the feeling that the bullet wound in his leg wasn’t going to be the only injury he received from this case.

The driver didn’t stop right outside Curt’s apartment, for security reasons. Obviously Curt wasn’t well known enough as a spy for the A.S.S to take full precaution as he’d probably be dropped off at a hotel instead if that were the case. But his time in England had made himself known to a select number of agencies, so you couldn’t be too careful.

The walk was longer than Curt had originally thought and he’d been dropped off at a part of town that he wasn’t very familiar with— he’d only moved here a few months ago and hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know the place. It was nearly two in the morning by the time he arrived home to his empty apartment, but if anything, he was glad about it. He would have forced himself to stay up late anyway until he was so tired that he’d naturally fall into a deep and dreamless sleep. Something that was even more pressing now that he’d arrived home. His apartment was small, dark. Certainly a sight nicer than the hostel, but at least the hostel hadn’t been so lonely; here there was no one. Unless you counted the neighbours above and below him, which Curt didn’t, since he’d hardly ever spoken to them save for a quick hello when he bumped into them collecting the mail.

The point was, his apartment was the perfect environment for Curt’s thoughts to run wild, so he told himself he only needed to be here to sleep, and only sleep. Only when he was tired enough. Otherwise he’d have to resort to a stiff drink, and he didn’t think that was an option anymore.

————

The A.S.S building, or at least the one that Cynthia resided in, looked the same as always. The same drab brick on the outside, the brown wallpaper on the inside. Curt didn’t know why he expected the building to look any different, he’d only been gone a few weeks. But so much had changed in that few weeks that it was only natural to assume that everything else in his life had as well.

But Cynthia’s door was the same as ever. Same wooden sound when he knocked, same harsh voice calling “come in!”. She was on the phone when he entered. She was always on the phone.

“Listen, all I said was that her son looked like my aunt Dinah with that haircut, I mean who cares? It’s not like old Bessie’s your first wife...” Cynthia saw him enter and indicated for him to sit down, throwing him the finger for good measure.

“What’s that?” She continued on the phone. “She is your first wife? Well, good luck with that after the election, whatever the result, she’ll either leave you, or you’ll leave her for the White House secretary.” She let out a laugh only reserved for her own jokes, stopping abruptly as the recipient on the other end of the phone clearly didn’t see the humour in it. “Oh get over it like a man,” she ordered. “No wonder Dewey’s beating your ass. I gotta go.” Finally. “Yeah I’ll talk to you later, President Truman.” She put the phone down with a clatter, any smile on her face disappearing instantly into a scowl as she turned to him.

“Now listen-” began Curt, hoping to get in an explanation before she went nuclear. “I did the best I could, and if you look at all the facts I did my job perfectly, it’s not my fault that-”

“Okay first of all,” Cynthia interrupted, which wasn’t a surprise. “Shut the fuck up.” Curt refrained from sighing irritably, and sunk his shoulders into the back of the seat behind him. “Second of all, I hope you’re aware that I now have the entirety of MI6 breathing down my neck, because not only did one of their employees get blown up but so did one of their buildings.”

“That wasn’t my fault! The employee was a mole, and he’s the one who planted the bomb-”

“Susan!” Curt let out a silent groan at Cynthia’s refusal to listen to a word he said. She was now calling for her assistant, Susan. A curly haired woman who hardly spoke and was like Cynthia’s own personal puppy dog. Susan quickly arrived through another door behind Cynthia’s desk.

“Susan, tell Agent Mega about the message we received from Agent Carvour’s superior,” said Cynthia.

“Um, well, the man said that Curt had deliberately disobeyed orders, gone against his partner and had therefore put himself and everyone else in danger, leading to the preventable death of Mr John Lawson.” Susan concluded as if she were reading from a stenographic machine. Cynthia looked back at him, as triumphant a look on her face as was possible for someone who never smiled.

“Tell me again, Mega, how it wasn’t your fault.”

“Look, if I had just been teamed up with someone who wasn’t as stubborn as that idiot Carvour, I never would have had to go against him. Besides, if I hadn’t broken into Lawson’s house, no one would have found out about the bomb in the first place and he would have gotten away with it scott free. I honestly don’t know what you’re blaming me here for.”

“So it isn’t true that you deliberately stayed behind in the building, leading to Lawson attempting to shoot you, and therefore getting himself killed in the process.” Curt said nothing. It wasn’t as if these were new facts to him. God knows he’d played his stupid decision over in his mind thousands of times, driving himself half insane over it.

“Well?” Pushed Cynthia.

“Okay fine, I shouldn’t have done that. But if you think about everything in domino affects then everyone could be blamed for everything.”

“You’re a spy, Mega. Your entire job is a domino affect. One tiny decision can fuck everything up, and that’s not the kind of spies I’m willing to send on missions.”

“So what, I’m here to get demoted? Get fired?” He was saying this a little antagonistically, but truth was he was scared. He really didn’t want to get fired.

“Actually, you’re here to be assigned a new case.” Curt sat up in his chair. Of all the outcomes to this conversation, he hadn’t expected this one.

“Really?”

“Unfortunately yes. We may have found the group that Mr Lawson was leaking information to. Since you knew him and the case better than my other agents, I need you to follow it up.”

“Right.” Curt’s belated feeling at being given a second chance quickly started to disappear. He had been hoping to put the Lawson case behind him for good, not open it back up again.

“The group’s located in Leningrad. You’ll be going undercover as a new recruit, approved by Mr Lawson. We’ve written up some fake documents for you. Kendris will explain your role in more detail.” Adam Kendris, in charge of assigning missions along with Cynthia, although he did more of the leg work.

“Your goal,” continued Cynthia. “Is mostly to find out information that can be used against the group; their informants, employees, networks, stuff like that. But we’ve also gotten wind that they’re attempting to design new plans for nuclear weapons.” Cynthia stood up and tapped the ash from her cigarette into the glass ash tray beside her. She walked to the front of her desk so she was right next to Curt.

“If these plans exist, if this technology exists, your job is to destroy it. Whatever it takes. And if you fuck it up, so help me God, I will personally throw you out of this building with my own hands.” Curt didn’t doubt it. If anything the threat was tame for Cynthia. Which didn’t last for long.

“When am I leaving?” He asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I don’t even get a break before leaving?” Cynthia smacked him across the face. It wasn’t very hard, just a warning slap. But he still- regrettably- said “ow!” out of shock more than anything, and brought his hand to his cheek. Cynthia pointed a finger in his face.

“Secret agents don’t get breaks. We are on the verge of war with the soviets and you want to sit back at home and put your feet up? Those days are over, Mega. You’re leaving tomorrow.” Curt bit his tongue to stop any retaliation.

“Fine.”

“Now get out of my office. Susan, show him the door.”

“I know where the door is...” but he had to trail off as Susan purposefully led him outside the office and slammed the door in his face.

Looks like he was leaving tomorrow.

#gentlemen of lies #spies are forever prequel #spies are forever #tin can bros #tcb #owen x curt #spies are forever fanfiction #saf #starkid

5 notes · View notes

goblincas · 3 years

Text

Entry Level Angel | Ch 3

On AO3

Saturday, October 10th:

Charlie tapped Cas's shoulder, urging him forward as another breeze stroked past his skin— his still very desensitized skin. He swallowed, unmoving, eyes drilling into the scene ahead. After waiting another moment, Charlie flicked Cas in the bicep. He flinched out of sheer habit.

“Y’know, this is super important,” Charlie reminded him, using her fingertips to soothe the site of assault. “Like, for your own well-being. Hell, for your life, even. Not to be melodramatic or anything, but it’s not like we have any clue of the severity we’re facing, here.”

She was right, of course— Cas needed help, and he needed it more and more desperately, each passing day. He had almost certainly been cursed. Although, that was right about where the reasonable conclusions slipped off into the abyss, never to be heard from again.

However, if Charlie’s plan was to succeed, Cas was going to have to take some initiative, first. There was nothing productive about standing in place, waiting for the asphalt to swallow both his body and his oh-so stubborn will to live.

Christ, how did Charlie convince herself that she was the “melodramatic” one?

The brick wall ahead was tinged by an earthy green plaster, offsetting the tubular neon lights spelling out “Magical Books ‘n’ Goods” across an otherwise cramped windowpane. Damp autumn leaves clung to the chipping windowsill and the base of an oval-capped doorway. Cas could hardly see inside the low-lit shop, aside from the unassuming profile of a retail bookshelf.

Sure, it wasn’t an especially threatening setup, but he wasn’t exactly coming at the situation from the calmest headspace. Thus, there was an almost menacing ambiance filtering through the shop’s walls, clamoring in Cas’s direction. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been rendered motionless by fear, much like a toddler off to their first day of preschool. Nope, no need for personal responsibility or self-initiative, here. Not today.

Again, Charlie nudged him, although with more pressure than earlier. “Dude, I’m serious. I just know that if anyone’s gonna be able to give us a clue, here, it’s gonna be her. Listen; I get the nerves, okay? And, like, I don’t even expect them to go away when you guys meet. She’s great, but she’s still an acquired taste… if it’s not totally insensitive to say that about another person. But this is important, Cas. I care about you too much to be lax, right now. Got it?”

Cas huffed, blinking slowly. Processing. “What a beautiful speech,” he quipped, continuing to gather his thoughts. Charlie flicked him again, this time on his shoulder. “Fine, okay, I understand. I do. I’m going in.”

Eyes lighting up against the muted autumn backdrop, Charlie thrust a celebratory fist into the air. “Great! Let’s get going, then.”

⁂

The inside of the witches’ specialty shop wasn’t too much unlike a run-of-the-mill small town bookstore, down to the effortless quirks of its layout. Mismatched shelves lined much of the back wall, creating a rich smattering of varying hues and grain around the secondhand spines. The air smelt faintly of chemical cinnamon, hardly able to overcome the musk of the place. Still, the witchy touches were anything but hidden; a line of tables ran down the center of the shop, covered in plastic-wrapped bundles of herbs, jars of unidentifiable glowing substances, and trendy rose gold altars. Wait, was that… an eyeball?

For his own sanity, Cas decided not to overthink it.

Before Cas had the opportunity to turn to Charlie for guidance, a voice jetted through the air, originating from god-knows-where. “Ah, hello there, dearie! Charlie, welcome back! And who is this you’ve brought along with you?” The thick, unmistakably Scottish sing-song seemed to reverberate out of the air, itself. Although hazy at the start, the sound was quick to crispen up.

Shifty eyed, Cas began to peer around the shop, only slightly disturbed by the disembodied words. Truly, it wasn’t as if he’d been expecting a day-to-day, streamlined retail experience. This was about in line with his expectations, so, whatever.

Charlie, bless her, managed to respond with near perfect nonchalance; this calmed Cas, yet somehow, also put him just a bit more on-edge. Well, then. “Hey, Ro! Where are you at? The back? I kinda, really need your help with something. Or, at least, my friend here sure does. Oh, Cas, introduce yourself!”

Cas side-eyed his friend, chewing his lip before replying slowly, seemingly to no one in particular, “Hi, I’m Cas. Um. Nice to meet… you? Yeah, sorry, who am I speaking to?” He was a human, for heaven’s sake; he wasn’t used to this, as expected as it might have been. Witches were certainly avant-garde, Cas could give them that.

Seconds later, a door was pushed open toward the back of the shop; it was encased on both sides by thinner, darker shelves, lined with stones and miscellaneous shiny and slimy tchotchkes. Cas swallowed, taking in the emerging figure.

The woman was surprisingly petite, yet carried herself as if she could crush Cas beneath her pinkie finger, alone. Red hair styled in fat curls poured over the shoulders of her simple black gown. Her eyes seemed to be faintly glowing, and Cas wasn’t certain he was comfortable with that fact, all things considered.

Nonetheless, Charlie was beaming in an instant, giving a short yet enthused wave of her hand. “Hey again, Ro. I know you’re probably busy, and I seriously don’t wanna waste any more of your time than I have to, so I’ll get right down to it. Oh, first— Cas, this is Rowena MacLeod, the spell-casting and lore dictionary, herself.”

Rowena let out a low giggle, the gleam in her emerald eyes only intensifying. Honestly, Cas was convinced that that “gleam” was more than simply a trick of the light.

“Yes, of course! Well, it’s very good to meet you, Cas, dearie,” Rowena said, her voice flowing over Cas like compound butter.

Cas gave a curt nod, unsure if he was meant to lead the conversation from there, but praying that he wasn’t.

To his luck, Charlie continued, “Like I said, I’ll get right down to… it. ‘Cause it’s kinda a lot. Unfortunately,” she said, planting her hands on her hips and entering an inadvertent power pose. “Cas here, just like the unlucky bastard that he is, managed to go and get himself mega cursed. And we have, like, no clue what’s goin’ on. So, first off, we’re gonna need a diagnosis, if you can give us one.”

Pursing her red-painted lips, Rowena hummed, squinting in Cas's direction. Cas fidgeted as the witch glided across the room, the floor creaking and whining beneath her leather heels. Moving in Cas's direction, she continued to scope the young man out.

“Hm? Ach, so… Cas, darling. Mind to expand in place of your friend? This is your tragic curse, after all. I’m sure your first-hand assessment will be more useful to me, here.”

Strangely enough, Cas wanted to contend. While Charlie hadn’t been the one experiencing the bizarro symptoms that past week, she was the witch. This was her specialty, her very domain as their backdrop.

Still, with trepidation, he replied. “It’s not anything bad, necessarily. At least, not painful. Just… very strange.” He sighed. Rowena leaned forward, tipping the weight of her body in Cas's direction. “I spilled hot coffee on myself and wasn’t burnt. No pain, either. I can’t sleep. I haven’t tasted food in a week. Oh, I haven’t slept in a week, either, so I definitely should mention that. Also, once, not too long after this all started, my entire abdomen glowed blue, before I was knocked unconscious for… a few hours, I believe?”

Cas held his breath, anticipating the sharp-eyed witch’s professional assessment. She continued to squint upward, claw-like hands finding their way to her hips.

“Well,” she hummed, after a moment of thought. “That’s certainly… concerning, to put things all too simply. Ah, and— you’re a human, correct?”

“Yeah, I am.” Although, frankly, Cas wasn’t so sure anymore. He certainly didn’t feel like a human, at that point. Surely, a “human” would have dropped dead of exhaustion by then, right?

(Although, it was more likely that Dean was going to be the one to kill him for neglecting his health and safety, if he ever found out. Assuming the curse didn’t get creative and take care of that first, of course.)

Rowena gave a delicate nod, loose curls bobbing with the movement. She straightened herself, leaning just slightly away, and Cas felt the concrete seeping from his own limbs. Wait, when had he gotten so tense?

“I see, I see. Hm…” She clucked her tongue, momentarily turning her gaze toward the tiled ceiling. “You are certainly correct, Charlie, dear. This isn’t a common ailment… how fascinating. That is certainly an unusual combination of, what sounds like, quite powerful and life-altering symptoms. Ach, well…” She trailed off, before reaching out a slender hand and attaching it to Cas's forearm. He lurched, but made sure not to pull away. As much as he loathed people touching him without a lick of permission, he reasoned that it was a sacrifice he’d apparently have to make.

God, he felt like a fucking lab rat, though. A genetic freak of a rodent, caged off from the rest of its whiskered brethren.

“I… have a bit of an inkling, certainly,” Rowena said, nails digging deeper into the flesh of Cas’s arm. She gazed directly into his eyes. “Infernal magic of some sort or another seems likely. Demonic in nature, maybe? Of course, draconic spellwork is still very much a consideration.”

Charlie drew in a breath between her teeth, reaching out from beside Cas and laying a hand on his shoulder. “Woah… not good. Why do you think that?”

To Cas's hardly containable irritation, Rowena let out another giggle, sleek as ever. “Well, you see, dearie, it’s really just a simple process of elimination. The more uncommon the spell or the curse, the more likely it’s outsourced from fringe magic. It’s as simple as that, really.” She drew back her hand, joining her palms together atop her heart. “Of course, we’ll have to do some further investigation to understand what, exactly, is the matter. Now, think of it like a fun little puzzle— in that light, your predicament will feel far less harrowing. Hm?”

As Rowena spoke and Charlie shifted her hand to clutch at the meat of Cas’s bicep, the front door to the shop was nudged open. Cas peaked over his shoulder, watching a golden-haired stranger hop on in— and promptly drift toward the corner shelves. There was no hesitation to his movements, his gait full of pep and bordering on enthusiastic. Still, he didn’t reach out to fiddle with any of the items; he simply stood in place, arms crossed over his chest, facing away from Rowena and company.

“Follow me to the back, now,” Rowena sung, re-seizing Cas's attention. “I’ll dash back out if I’m needed, but for now, privacy would be best.”

Charlie nodded. “Totally, I agree. Cas, you okay with heading back? Do you want me to come with? I can, if you want. Or not. Whatever you need, man.”

Throwing a final glance toward the apparent non-customer, Cas turned to Charlie, eyes pleading. Please. Please don’t leave me alone with her.

Thankfully, his friend got the message. Blessed be

#my writing #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #A bit of a rougher chapter... but we're gonna work with it!#my post

1 note · View note

amazingmsme · 5 years

Text

Preventing Apotheosis Part 3

I know it’s been a hot sec, so here’s part 3! If you want to catch up, the first 2 chapters can be found in my preventing apotheosis tag!

Curt looked around for any sign of people nearby, but found none. The haunting wails sounded off all around them. General McNamera stood next to him as still as could be with his eyes shut. He tapped his shoulder, "What are you-"

"Sh! I'm trying to hear what direction is loudest. That way we'll know which one's are closest and work from there." A few more seconds and McNamera turned around and pointed down the road, "There, downtown. Makes sense, since it's closest to the crash site. Walker, Mega and I will head that way while Pierce, Ramirez and Morgan will take the northside and we'll meet back here at 23 hundred hours. The chopper will take us back." They split up and went their separate ways. Curt held his gun at the ready as they ducked between buildings. The farther they went, the louder the singing got. As they hid behind trash cans, they saw a group of people dancing down the street, twirling and leaping about. They waited until they were right in front of them before they opened fire, mowing them down before they could belt another note. John motioned for them to keep moving, so they pressed forward.

They ducked into an alleyway searching for anyone when a man stepped out from behind a fire escape. His eyes were glowing a striking electric blue, and he was missing an arm. The blood that was dripping from the wound which should've been red was the same piercing color as his eyes. Despite this, he wore a crazed smile on his face as he opened his mouth, letting out an operatic high C. They all instinctively reached for their guns, but two more people came up from behind them, knocking them to the ground. Mega grabbed his second gun and shot the man in front of them in the chest as McNamera spun around and punched an infected elderly woman in the face. Walker dove for his gun, firing at the third alien human hybrid as soon as it was in his hand. The aliens were still alive however and recovered fairly quickly, unlike the group they had massacred so easily. Music filled the air, and it seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. The old woman grabbed John in a choke hold while the other two pinned Curt and the other soldier to the wall. He had been in this position before and knew how to get out of it. He brought his knee up to the man's stomach, making him double over. Even though the wind should've been knocked out of him, he still managed to sing with the rest.

"Oh Mr. Gun Man, Mr. Military Brat, you shoot at us and think you're all that. But this is a new dawn, this is a new day. Welcome to the new age."

After freeing himself, he shot the alien in front of them before killing the woman choking John with a swift headshot. The commotion allowed Walker to escape and as they tried to run away, he shot them in the back, and they crumbled to the ground as the music came to an abrupt end.

"I'm not a military brat," Curt spat at the dead bodies before them. John gave him a look, "I believe they were talking, well singing, to me," he said. Mega furrowed his brows and his nose scrunched up a little.

"Relax Curt, I'm only messing with ya," he said and shot him a quick wink. He couldn't help but smile at him, but ducked his head down as soon as he felt heat rushing to his cheeks. He couldn't believe himself. He swore he wouldn't fall for someone in the field ever again after what happened with Owen because it would only end in heartbreak. But John was so good looking and strong: physically and mentally, and he had that same snarky, sarcastic humor that had drawn him to Owen in the first place. He had to keep his head in the game! Had to keep his eyes on the prize and get the job done! Then he could think about his love life. "Let's keep going."

They reached a school and heard loud singing and music blaring from the building. They tried the door, but when that didn't work, McNamera kicked it in. They followed the echoing voices through the eerily empty halls. He didn't know why, but empty schools always made him uneasy. It was unnatural. Once they found the source, John held his fist up signaling them to stay put and not enter. The three of them peaked in through the window and saw three teenage girls slowly creep and advance on two men who appeared to not be infected, but you can never be too careful. The shorter of the two tried to reach out to the girl in the middle, but the other man pulled him back. Once the song ended, he started talking, but they couldn't quite make out the words. John cracked the door and they all listened.

"I can't live in a world without my daughter."

"Bill, whatever you're thinking, stop it."

"I can't live knowing I'm the reason they got to her." He brought the barrel of the shotgun to his jaw, and the other man tried to wrestle it away. Bill begged for him to let him do it, but the gun was yanked from his hands and tossed to the ground. As his friend held his shoulders and spoke to him, McNamera noticed the middle girl step forward and pick up the gun, aiming it at the oblivious men.

"I won't let you die!" BAM!

The men jumped at the gun shot, the taller man whipping around towards them as the other rushed to the fallen girl. He scooped up her lifeless body and started weeping as they burst into the room.

"Get down on the ground, we're the army!" BAM! BAM! BAM! Walker shot at the remaining zombified girls before they ran out of the room and escaped. The man apparently named Bill didn't move from his spot on the ground.

"Alice! Alice no! Please wake up, you're gonna be fine, daddy's here," his words were strangled and choppy from the large lump in his throat. Tears and snot rolled down his face while his choking sobs filled the air.

Walker and McNamera walked up to the other man as he pleaded that he wasn't one of them, and Curt jogged to where they were, having been frozen at the sight. "Yeah prove it asshole we're the army," McNamera deadpanned as he knocked him out with the butt of his gun as Mega fumbled with his badge and whipped it out, "CIA- oh he's unconscious." He looked down at his hands with a frown and waved his badge out to the side aimlessly. Bill finally seemed to come somewhat to his senses and turned around towards them. He was still cradling his daughters face is his hands, and his face morphed from grief to rage.

"You! You killed her!" he screamed at them. Curt didn't like this. He wasn't used to dealing with civilians and "cleaning up." He stole things, tortured people, killed people, but they were always bad people with cruel intentions. These were normal people with normal lives, and it only just now dawned on him that they were supposed to kill them. And then he charged at them and General McNamera knocked him out with an elbow to the face. His body hit the floor with a loud smack that made Curt wince. John bent down and picked him up, throwing his limp form over his shoulder and motioning for Walker to do the same.

"Mega go kill those alien bastards before they leave the school while we tie them up. We'll be in the classroom across the hall."

"You're not gonna kill them, are you?"

"Those are my orders," John said matter of factly.

"So that's it? You just knock them out and kill them without another word?"

"It's better than if they were conscious."

"If they survived this long don't you think they deserve to live? Who knows what all they've been through, I mean you shot a man's daughter for Christ's sake!"

The General grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and used it to point at him, "That thing wasn't his daughter! Whoever she was, she was dead long before I shot her. And she was going to kill him anyways, so I killed her before she could."

"Why? So you can kill him instead?"

"That's not-" but McNamera couldn't finish his sentence and pressed his thumb and pointer finger against his temple. Curt didn't stop talking however.

"They're innocent people. We should be helping them," he pleaded. The last thing he wanted was for them to die.

"You may be used to saving the world, but my job is strictly damage control! Do you know the kind of chaos that would spread if people found out about what happened here? You can't even begin to imagine! Without P.E.I.P. hysteria will ensue, and I'm not willing to let that happen just so two meaningless people can live!"

"That's why we only threaten to kill them if they ever tell anyone!" He really didn't want to do this, and he wondered why Cynthia had to send him of all people. Because he was Curt Mega, one of the world's greatest spies. Or maybe because he had the worst luck.

"Damnit Curt, do you think this is what I want? I just follow my orders, I don't get to make them. Look, maybe we can come to an agreement, and we won't have to kill them, but I'll have to talk it over with my superiors." Curt nodded, "Okay."

#preventing apotheosis #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #tgwdlm fic #spies are forever #saf #saf fic #tgwdlm crossover #saf crossover #john mcnamara #general mcnamara #curt mega #agent curt mega #paul matthews #bill #alice #bill tgwdlm #alice tgwdlm

13 notes · View notes

dreamin-when-i-wrote-this · 5 years

Text

@diverseprotein suggested cold!

Sorry this took so long, I decided to ask for these suggestions just before my exams which wasn’t a good idea! But here it is finally. This was originally a completely different, incredibly angsty idea that I just couldn’t get right. But, this does somehow seemed to have created a College AU which I just might have to finish now...

Owen heaved a sigh of relief when his professor finally dismissed the class. It was his final lecture of a very long day and honestly he couldn’t wait to just go back to his dorm and sleep. Well, he probably wouldn’t get much sleeping done (as per usual) but it’s the thought that counts.

He reached into his pocket to retrieve his earphones and groaned at the realisation that they’d been forgotten. He rubbed his hands together in a vain attempt to fend off the February chill, already regretting not packing gloves today. This was going to be a long walk.

He loved acting and he didn’t regret taking the extra drama course at all. However, a two and a half hour class about the history and theory of performing arts was not the most pleasant way to end his already painfully long day. Not to mention it was completely off campus so he had a forty minute walk back to his dorm every week. He could take the bus but who has the money for that every week?

He was dragged out of his thoughts by the ringing of his phone. He frowned, but reached into his pocket to pick it up. He rolled his eyes when he saw the name but answered anyway.

“Hello, Curt. Are you dying?” he deadpanned. He really didn’t have the energy for his roommate’s bullshit today.

“Um, no, I’m fine?” Curt answered, seeming slightly confused at the less than warm welcome.

“Well then if you’re alright guess I’ll be-“

“No, Owen, wait!” Curt pleaded.

He sighed, but kept the phone pressed tight up to his ear. “Fine, what do you want?” he asked in a clipped voice.

“Okay listen, I need a favour from you,“ Curt started and Owen groaned.

“Of course you do, Curt. Do you ever, oh I don’t know, just fancy a chat with me?”

“Shut up, Carvour, you just tried to hang up on me when you thought I wanted a chat.” Curt’s voice was slightly snarky but lacked any real venom, so Owen decided to humour him.

“Right, what is it?” he asked, hoping the boredom was evident in his voice.

“I need you to buy me a blanket.”

Owen paused for a moment, sure he had misheard. “I’m sorry, you need what?” he asked incredulously.

Curt let out an exaggerated sigh. “Blanket, Owen, a blanket,” he said. “You do have those in Britain, right?”

“Yes, of course we do,” Owen huffed.

“Great, then you know exactly what I-“

“No, Curt.”

“Ugh, but I’m cold.”

“And that’s not my problem.” Owen had better things to do than run errands for his lazy roommate. “Now, I’ve had a very long day and I would appreciate it if you would let me have just 30 minutes of peace.” He went to hang up but Curt’s voice came blaring through the speakers again.

“Owen fuck off, you hate that walk. Also I’ve been using your earphones most of the day so I know you don’t have them.” Owen could almost hear the smirk on Curt’s face. “Talking to me is more interesting than anything else you’d be doing.”

Owen paused, trying to figure out how to respond to that. He knew Curt had broken his own headphones (he’d been complaining about it nonstop and it was driving Owen up the wall) but that did not give him the right to-

“And, it is your problem, actually,” Curt continued, moving swiftly on. “The reason this room is so fucking freezing is because you broke the damn window latch!” Actual annoyance laced his voice for the first time this conversation.

“Only because you started that dumbass frisbee game!” Owen retorted, face flushing slightly at the embarrassing memory. It had been very late (or maybe early?) and they’d both been very drunk; considering the state they’d been in, it was a wonder that a broken window and was the worst that happened.

“Hey, I didn’t force you to join in,” Curt replied, in a tone that was incredibly irritating because they both knew he was right.

“Fine. I’m sorry about the window, but I don’t even have any money on me,” Owen said. It was a barefaced lie but what Curt didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

“Yes you do, you always buy coffee on a Wednesday morning.” Curt’s answer was scarily confident and what was even scarier was that he was correct.

“First, how the hell do you know that.”

“Uh, cause you fucking told me? It’s your longest day of the week and you hate it.”

Oh yeah, he had told Curt that. Again, they had both been slightly drunk. Or at least Owen had. Curt always seemed to hold his booze better out of the two. He honestly hadn't expected the other to remember, considering he himself hardly did.

“Well okay, but I only brought enough money for my coffee.” The lie was beginning to unravel but Owen was determined to keep it together. Curt, it seemed, had other plans.

“Wrong again, you took your big wallet with all your cards in it, just to ensure you’re always prepared.” Again, he had complete confidence in his answer that kind of freaked Owen out. Why was he so damn observant?

“Curt, what is it you’re majoring in again?”

“Economics,” he replied simply. Owen shook his head in disbelief, despite Curt not being able to see it.

“You really might want to consider a career change.”

“Whatever, Mr ‘Political Science’,” Curt said, sarcasm dripping off every word.

Owen chuckled softly. “Touché”

“So, will you get me the blanket?” Owen groaned at his roommates persistence.

“No, Curt!”

Their bickering quickly veered away from just talking about the blanket and continued most of Owen’s journey back. He could’ve hung up at any time (in fact, he kept threatening to) but something kept him talking. Curt Mega was incredibly irritating and knew exactly how to push Owen over the edge, but even he couldn’t deny how clever and just downright entertaining he was.

“Look, Owen, I’m begging you at this point. I’ve kept you entertained all this time and I know you must be passing the shop right about now-”

“Curt, I said no,” Owen insisted, albeit with far less vigor than before. Curt elected to ignore him and continued talking.

“-but if you think about it, this benefits you as well since the room will be cold as shit for both of us…”

Owen sighed as he stopped at the end of the street. He could walk straight on and be back to his dorm in less than ten minutes or…

“... fine, I’ll get your damn blanket,” he said, turning and waiting for the crossing signal to change.

“Yes! Thanks dude, you’re the best!” Curt’s grin shone through his words and Owen wasn’t sure why he had to hold back a smile of his own.

“But you’re paying me,” Owen said. He wasn’t going to let him get free labour off him that easily.

“Hell no, you broke the window!”

“I guess there’s no blanket then…”

“Fine, fine I’ll pay it!” Curt said hastily. “God, you’re such a pain, Carvour.”

Owen smirked. “A pain who’s saving your cold ass.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Curt conceded.

Owen rolled his eyes as he crossed the street, staring down the Walmart in the distance him with distaste. If he’s being totally honest, the place confused and concerned him. Curt had dragged him in there a few times for supplies and they had not been pleasant experiences. He really missed a simple Tesco.

“I’m going to Walmart for this, you’d better appreciate me.”

Curt hummed in surprise. “Wow, Carvour, I really am a bad influence on you.”

“Oh sod off,�� Owen said with a smile. He swore suddenly, having reached the car park and subsequently nearly run over by some idiot in a Jeep.

“Are you alright?” Curt asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

“Yep,” Owen replied, his voice resigned. “Just your wonderful citizens trying to kill me. God, I love America.”

“Well you can’t say we don’t make an impression,” Curt laughed. “I’m just not sure it’s always a good one.”

Owen chuckled along with him as he entered the bustling shop. “Right, I’m in now and it’s busy as shit so I’m gonna have to hang up.”

“No, don’t leave me Owen,” Curt whined. Owen could practically imagine the other stomping his feet.

“Oi, I need to buy your ruddy blanket!”

“You go very British when you’re really trying to be angry with me,” Curt teased.

“Goodbye, Curt,” Owen laughed.

“Thanks, Owen,” Curt said, before hanging up the phone.

Owen was shocked by the sincerity in the other’s voice, but he brushed it off with a smile. God that guy…

“Oi, Mega!”

Owen slammed open the door and threw the folded blanket at his roommate. Curt squawked as it hit him in the chest and bounced to the floor, nearly dropping his laptop off his bed. He reached down to retrieve it with a wide smile.

“Thank you! You have no idea how much suffering I have gone through, what took you so long!” Curt lamented, unwrapping the blanket immediately and running his hands over it.

“Hey, that place is scary and confusing as hell. Just be grateful I got it at all.” Owen sat down on his own bed, spying his earphones sitting back on his pillow. At least Curt didn’t break them, he mused. He dropped his bag on the floor with a bang that startled Curt out of his fixation with the blanket. He looked up at Owen with a frown and he held his hands up in a weak apology.

“Where’s yours?” Curt asked. That was not the question he’d been expecting.

Owen shrugged. “This was the last one.” At Curt’s continued frown, he quickly tried to reassure him. “Honestly, I don’t care that much, I’ll live. I just want to sleep anyway.”

“That’s not fair though, you bought one for me.”

Owen shrugged again and flopped backwards on his bed. They shared a brief moment of silence which was all too soon broken by Curt.

“Come and share it with me,” Curt said quietly.

“I’m sorry, what?” Owen asked, his voice full of disbelief.

Curt groaned, seemingly embarrassed. “You heard me, come on. We can watch a movie. And bring your pillow.”

“Fine,” Owen conceded, heaving himself off the bed with a grunt. He really didn’t have anything better to do tonight.

“What do you wanna watch? I was about to stick on Die Hard but I’m sure you don’t want to watch it again,” Curt said, moving the pillows around so they were layered in the corner of the bed.

“I’ve never actually seen Die Hard,” Owen admitted. The way Curt looked at him god have thought he’d grown another head.

“You’ve never what now?” He asked, eyes wide.

“You heard me,” he smirked, throwing Curt’s own words against him.

“Right okay we are watching this now!”

They curled up against the pillows, the blanket draped over the both of them. Between the small laptop screen and one blanket, they were forced to practically sit on top of each other, but neither boy addressed it. Owen didn’t understand why Curt had needed the stupid blanket at all, the guy was like a damn furnace.

At some point (he had failed to notice exactly when), Curt’s head had come to rest on Owen’s shoulder. Judging by the deep breathing that followed, Curt had managed to fall asleep. Owen had to drag his gaze back to the film but I find smile now rested on his lips.

He found himself floored by the sudden change in their dynamic. Just days ago, Owen would have scoffed at the idea of the two of them doing anything together other than frostily reside in the same dorm. In fact, he probably would’ve hung up the phone as soon as it became clear his roommate wasn’t dying. But Owen couldn’t lie, he definitely preferred this. Maybe the two of them being friends would actually work.

Owen stiffened and his breath hitched as Curt snuggled closer to him in his sleep, twisting round and lying a hand on his stomach. He slowly let himself relax, reminding himself that Curt was asleep. He looked back at his roommate, trying to ignore the heat that had risen in his cheeks at the domesticity of it all.

Friends, huh?

#spies are forever #saf #tin can brothers #curtwen #owen carvour #agent curt mega

22 notes · View notes

amazingmsme · 5 years

Text

Preventing Apotheosis Part 2

He arrived in Clivesdale, checking in on the radio to check if the runway was clear for landing. He hopped out of the jet and opened his comms, "Barb?"

"Curt?"

"Just checking in, I just landed in Clivesdale and I see no signs of that General guy. You sure he knows I'm here?"

"I'm sure he's well aware." Curt turned around at the new voice and was face to face with a man in an all black military uniform. He also wore a black hat with his hair pulled back in a ponytail and his face was locked in an intense stare. Curt leaned into his watch, "Gotta go, I'll check in later."

The man held his hand straight out in front of him, "General John McNamera, special unit P.E.I.P. We call it Peep." Curt took his hand and shook it, "Agent Curt Mega, CIA."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance Curt, though I wish it were under better circumstances. Who knows how many of those poor bastards on that island are infected by now..." he squinted his eyes and took a drag from his cigarette. Why did everyone around him have to smoke? Don't they know how bad it is?

"So uh, you've seen this kind of thing before?" he asked, hoping to finally get some answers. John nodded, "P.E.I.P deals with these kinds of things. After Roswell, the government decided they needed a unit to keep tabs on all things that fall from space and make sure no one knows about it. I've dealt with things from crashed space ships to meteors like this one."

"My boss told me people were singing and dancing because of this, do you know anything about this?" He took another hit and blew out the smoke, "Yes... whatever these aliens are, they've tried to take over our planet before. They're like a hivemind, that's how they can all sing and dance in harmony, but other than world domination we can't figure out what the hell they want."

"Well you said it yourself, didn't you? World domination?"

"If only it were that simple. It's like they want the whole world to be one giant musical..." Curt couldn't help but shudder. Yeah it might not sound bad, but when you imagine everyone on earth being forced to sing and dance against their will, the picture is quite frightening.

"So how do we stop it?" he questioned.

"Once we arrive, we shoot all the infected we find. If we leave even one they can and will find their way to the mainland, and it'll only spread from there, so it is of utmost importance that we keep this contained, which is why the bridge is closed. No one is allowed in, or out as of right now. Except for us of course, we're the damn military," he offered a smile. Curt didn't expect for it to be so genuine, and he definitely wasn't counting on the way it made his heart flutter a bit faster. "We'll check for any civilians that are alive and uninfected and make our way back. We'll come back in about a month to make sure none we didn't miss anyone and by then, it's usually safe enough to remove the meteor and the dead bodies."

"Is it possible to remove the meteor now? I mean, if that's what's causing all of this, wouldn't it be best if we-"

"Are you insane? We can't get that close to it unless you want to join them, and I'd rather shoot you dead where you stand than have you turn into one of them." Curt didn't know what to say... Looks like getting samples from the meteor was out of the question. "Whatever it is can spread through the air the closer you are to the source... usually one of the aliens have to kill and infect you, but if you waltz up to that giant rock you'll come back singing, no doubt about it. I saw it happen..." General McNamera trailed off, and Curt understood all too well that look in his eye. It was a look he had seen in the mirror many times; it was the look of unmistakable guilt that could only come from letting your partner die. He didn't push for details and waited for him to recover because it's what he would want if their positions were reversed.

"We go and make a clean sweep. No survivors, we can't risk word of this getting out to the public."

Curt cleared his throat before he spoke, not trusting his voice, "I'm supposed to grab some samples so..." he trailed off. John rolled his eyes and took the cigarette out of his mouth, using it to gesture with, "Fine, you can grab some DNA from the ones we kill, but make sure not to touch it." Curt nodded, "Way ahead of you," he said pulling out the pen Barb gave him and clicked it three times. a mechanical pincher extended from the pen, opening and closing on demand. McNamera leaned back, eyes wide as he examined the tool.

"Cool. Just keep your weird spy do hickeys to yourself unless I ask." Curt obliged and put the pen in the front pocket of his suit. "Alright then. I'll go grab the rest of the unit and we can head over there." The General lead him to where the others were, and an officer walked up to them with a sour look on his face.

"General McNamera."

"Yes Private?"

"The boat isn't starting."

He let out a noise that was a mixture of a sigh and a grunt and rubbed his temple. "May I ask why the hell not?"

"It seems like a piece of the meteor from last night broke off and struck the engine before it sank beneath the water." Curt perked up, perhaps he could get a meteor sample after all.

"Where is the boat?" The soldier pointed off towards the water, "Right off the edge of that dock sir."

"Thank you." He was about to walk off in that direction but a strong hand gripped his arm and pulled him back.

"Just where the hell do you think you're going?"

"I'm just gonna check the damage and see if there's any pieces left from the meteor fragment. The more data I can collect the better." General McNamera's grip didn't falter however, and Curt jerked his arm from his grasp before walking down the pier. He heard footsteps behind him before they fell in time with his own and John was at his side once more.

"I might as well go with you and see how fucked up she is," he said referring to the boat. The soldier sure was right about the engine being damaged. A dent large enough for Curt to crawl in left the boat inoperable and the metal was bent and torn away revealing the innerworkings that still sparked and sizzled. Curt noticed a small rock at the bottom of the boat and pulled out his pen and a collection tube, picking it up and looking it over. It was about the size of his palm and had small pores scattered all throughout. It was a deep chocolate brown color but when held in the light had a metallic blue hue to it. He sealed it away and put it in his bag before turning towards a less than amused General.

"It's just a tiny sample, it won't hurt anything Mac," he said, patting his shoulder. He shrugged his hand off and scrunched up his nose at the nickname.

"Just be careful. Well, we clearly can't take the boat anymore, so it looks like we'll have to take the chopper. We won't be able to take as many soldiers now, but I suppose if we need to we can always make two trips."

"Or take two helicopters," Curt suggested. John flashed him another smile, "I like the way you think."

The ride to Hatchetfield was mostly quiet, as it was too hard to talk over the sound of the whirring blades and it put unnecessary strain on their voices. Before they landed, everything seemed normal, but once they touched down, it all changed. It was like a ghost town: the roads and buildings were all deserted and empty. He noticed a few broken windows and smears of blue on the ground and walls of some of the shops. In the distance, heavenly voices sang an ominous tune, and it seemed to come from all directions. The helicopter whirred to life once more, leaving them to carry out their tasks. Oh God, what had they gone into?

#preventing apotheosis #spies are forever #tgwdlm #saf #spies are forever fic #saf fic #tgwdlm fic #curt mega #agent curt mega #general mcnamara #john mcnamara

18 notes · View notes

amazingmsme · 5 years

Text

Preventing Apotheosis Part 1

This is the first chapter of my Spies Are Forever/The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals AU/crossover where the events of SAF took place in modern day and Curt gets sent on a mission to gather information on a strange meteor that fell in Hatchetfield and report back to HQ. But will Curt and his new partner be able to make it out alive?

Curt finally felt alive for the first time in four years. After getting back in the field, he swore he would never let himself slump so far into a depression like that ever again, even if he had to see Owen die before his eyes for a second time. Especially since the Owen he shot wasn't the Owen he had once known. No, his Owen was a lighthearted suave spy who always got the job done. He was sarcastic, funny, brilliant, there weren't enough words to describe how great he was. But the Owen he had faced wasn't that same man, not anymore at least. The Owen he knew had died when he fell off those stairs all those years ago. His eyes were cold and harsh and held none of the lively warmth they once did, and he was a complete sadist. He was going to torture him until he died, and he wore a sadistic grin the whole time. Not to mention the countless number of people he had killed. God, he had slaughtered so many young girls... Curt had no choice when he pulled the trigger.

He felt his work phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out, looking at the screen. One new text from Cynthia that read, "Get your ass to my office now." He knew she probably wasn't mad at him, that's just the way she talks. Plus if she was angry, she would've used way more curse words. So he didn't feel too nervous when he walked into her office.

"Sit." He did as he was told, much like an obedient dog. "I have a new mission for you. Just came in this morning, and we still don't have a lot of information, but that's where you come in. Late last night a large meteor fell in the town of Hatchetfield, Michigan and there've been a few reports of some of the residents breaking out into singing and dancing. Apparently this isn't the first time something like this has happened, so you're gonna be teaming up with someone who's dealt with this before." She handed him a file to flip through as she continued talking, "His name is General John McNamera and he works in a special division of the military known as P.E.I.P. Basically what they do is they go to these meteor crash sites and stop whatever the fuck is going on from spreading, and make sure no one else hears about it." She leaned back in her chair to prop her feet up on the table and took a drag from her cigarette. "I want you to get some samples from that damn space rock so Barb can run some tests on it. And anything else that seems like weird alien shit or whatever."

Curt blinked a couple of times, "Excuse me, did you say aliens?" He fought off his laughter because he knew from experience that laughing during a briefing would end in an ass kicking. She narrowed her eyes and took another puff, blowing the smoke in his face, "Or whatever. We still don't know yet, but based on the other events that have happened, it seems like it might be the case. Now I've been to Area 51 and I know that there's different kinds of these space bastards, so I need you to help me figure out what the fuck we're dealing with."

"Wait you've been to Area 51?"

"Yes."

"So aliens are... real?"

"Jesus Curt you're supposed to be smart! Do you honestly believe that we're the only planet with intelligent lifeforms? Give me a fucking break," she rolled her eyes, bringing the cigarette up to her lips and inhaling deeply, "Honestly I thought your clearance level would've meant you were informed about the existence of extra terrestrials, but clearly I was wrong. Although I'm sure your little "early retirement" brought that to a screeching halt, so no wonder you're out of the loop," she couldn't help but chuckle to herself. Curt looked down at his lap, feeling embarrassed. Cynthia noticed and stopped laughing and gave him a gentle smile, "But to answer your question, yes aliens are real. You're gonna need to fly out as soon as you stop by and get the necessary gear from Barb and not a second later. If you can't manage to get a sample from the meteor, get some air samples and if you can, try to get DNA from the affected citizens. General McNamera will meet you at the Clivesdale airport and you'll take a boat to Hatchetfield since the bridge will probably be closed and going by water will be your best bet. "

"Alright, and you said that people were... singing and dancing? What, like a musical?"

"If we knew we wouldn't be sending you, that's kinda the point of this mission."

"Sorry, I'm just trying to understand this."

"We all are Curt, so get the hell out of my office and head down to the lab, Barb's waiting." Curt followed her orders and headed straight for the lab, smiling widely when he saw Barb.

"There's my favorite little scientist! What cool stuff do you have for me?"

Barb looked up at him dreamily before shaking herself out of her love induced state, "So I have some foldable collection tubes that fit in your pocket, a taser phone, a couple of poison dart rings, a pen that's actually an extendable grabbing arm for gathering samples without having to touch them, cufflinks that turn into a shield, a keychain that shoots acid, a few extra guns because you can never have too many guns, especially in our line of work, and I made a special gas mask bowtie just for you 'cause I heard the air might me toxic!" She finished her rambling and shoved a duffle bag into Curt's hands.

He ruffled through, examining some of the gadgets, "Wow, thanks Barb! You never cease to amaze me," he said. She practically swooned, but he was too busy to notice. Even if he had she doubted that he would've done anything other than pat her shoulder at the most. He looked back at her then at his watch, "Well, if that's all then I better get going. Cynthia said I had to leave as soon as I got my things."

"Oh! W-well be careful!"

"I'm always careful, how do you think I got to be the world's greatest spy?" She just shook her head as she watched him leave. Curt Mega sure was something else.

He went to the hanger where the jets were kept and after checking that it was ready for flight, he climbed into the cockpit and took off down the runway. He had the coordinates set and followed the path until he reached his destination.

#spies are forever #saf #saf fic #spies are forever fic #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #tgwdlm fic #curt mega #agent curt mega #cynthia houston

42 notes · View notes