SUNDAY MORNING, RAIN WAS FALLNG. The weather seemed to be mimicking the mood of everyone in the apartment, though the fear aspect was yet to be revealed. The dark clouds and the rain seemed to foreshadow the trials later to come, but the sun had to come out eventually.

"I knew you were from the 40's, but I didn't think..." Diana said, backpack in hand as she prepared to leave.

They had spent the entire night talking, none of them getting any sleep. There had been many a hot chocolate made that night, as it was a stressful time for the two men. Diana had just sat across from them, slowly growing more and more afraid for the two that she had grown so close to.

"I can't do this," he sighed, leaning against the doorframe, "I dodged this once, I can't do it again, not after all this time."

Diana frowned, looking up at him. "You said you were called Failsafe, do you have any weapons that came with the title?"

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "An outdated gun used in World War II. Like I said, I was a soldier, but this was all supposed to be reconnaissance in case something went wrong. I was a failsafe."

"Has Nicky ever made you anything?" she asked, glancing back at the man, "He said that he was supposed to be protecting you, but you never fought?"

"He made stuff back when it all started, but they're practically useless now," he sighed, also turning to look at the man who was fast asleep at the dining table.

"Well, he can come up with something new," she said, opening the door to leave, "Mention it to him. I'd stay and help, but I gotta go. But just..." she trailed off, unsure of what else to say.

"Thanks, kid," he whispered, squeezing her shoulder, "I will. Get home safe, stay out of the cold."

She smiled and left the loft, Rhett closing the door behind her. Once he did, he seemed to lose all the energy he had left, practically collapsing against the wood, locking all the deadbolts as he slid down, lying on the floor for who knows how long.

Time didn't care about him, so he didn't care about time.

When he finally woke up—he didn't remember falling asleep—it seemed to be even darker, meaning it was most likely sometime in the afternoon. Rising to his feet, he found Nicky still asleep, but now on the couch with a blanket instead of on the table.

He rose to his feet, picking up his forgotten phone off the table, checking for messages and the like.

He found Steve had sent him a flurry of messages detailing his night at the bar and Rhett sat down, reading through them all, frowning when he reached a story about a man who didn't seem to want to leave.

to: "Grant" (8:43 am)
Are you okay?

He waited for a response, chewing on his bottom lip. Steve hadn't sent any more messages after the one about the man, and to say that he was afraid was an understatement. After his explanation, everything just seemed more real than they had been before.

from: "Grant" (9:00 am)
I'm fine how are you?

Rhett couldn't help but worry. The words were similar to what Steve normally sent, but he couldn't escape the nagging feeling that formed, the idea that maybe the person he was talking to wasn't who he thought he was.

to: "Grant" (9:01 am)
I'm good. Have to work on my
lesson plan for the week

Pocketing his phone, he went to get his bag, deciding to work in the living room. As he set up on the coffee table and the couch, he heard Nicky stir, shifting around in the blanket, still clad in his outside clothes.

Rhett looked at him for a moment, waiting to see if he'd wake up. When he didn't, he just sighed and pulled the couch towards the table, leaning forward and getting to work; he knew it was bad for his back, but he had a lot of bad habits that he just couldn't quit.

He had a lot of things he just couldn't quit.

º º º

It was hours later when Nicky finally awoke, finding Rhett staring at his work, not moving. He sat up slowly, raising a hand carefully, snapping loudly, the sound echoing throughout the room.

Rhett startled, eyes darting over to the man, backing away out of habit. He relaxed once he realized who it was, looking away and avoiding all eye contact, as he had when they first moved in together.

"This really shook you up, huh?" Nicky said, grabbing the pillow he had been lying on, hugging it to his chest, looking at the other man.

Rhett took off his glasses, nodding and rubbing his eyes. "I'm so scared, Nicky. I can't do this again, I can't. It's been so long."

"Hey," Nicky said, moving to the ground next to him, pulling his hands away to look him in the eye, "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, okay? That's my job."

"How do you even know if you were trained well, there's none of you left," Rhett scoffed, pulling away and heading to the kitchen.

He paused halfway there when he heard the small sound that emitted from Nicky, small and hurt. He turned slowly, sighing. "I'm sorry, that wasn't fair."

Nicky was still on his knees, his hands balled into fists, eyes unfocused, staring at the couch, memories dancing past his eyes. It was a wonder how he was still so full of life, after everything that happened to him.

Though the same could be said about Rhett, it seemed.

"I'm scared too, Rhett," Nicky finally sighed, not moving from his position, as if in front of an unseen figure, praying for mercy, "I'm terrified."

"Diana said to come up with something new," the blond man said, moving to sit on the dining table, keeping an eye on the other man.

Nicky laughed shortly, scoffing, "That's 'cause she has no idea. Like I said, we don't use weapons."

Rhett sighed, knowing where this was going. "Nick, it worked just this last time...maybe—"

"We can't always put the safety of the people in the hands of giant weapons!" he cried, jumping to his feet and turning on him.

Rhett stood as well, looking at him calmly. "Nicky..."

"I screwed up once, I can't do it again. The last time was different, she was up against tech. We're not. We don't need it to level the playing field, Rhett, you're just batting with a blindfold, plain and simple."

The blond man laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head. "You just had to use the baseball analogy."

"You don't play anymore," Nicky pointed out, "Not since Steve. Honestly, I thought that's all you two would do."

He rubbed his face. "I don't think I could handle it. I don't, not again. Not after all this time."

Nicky sighed, patting the couch. "All you have is time."

Rhett's gaze snapped towards him. "I don't think so. Not anymore, Nicky. I don't know how he—" he choked, taking a deep breath, "We can't just sit here, afraid and helpless. You said it yourself. You didn't arm us with tech, but you armed someone else. You did something."

"Well, someone was after me then," Nicky said, leaning against the couch, arms crossed, "What do you want to do?"

Rhett opened and closed his fists. "I need something. Anything."

Nicky worried on his bottom lip. "I'll...I'll come up with something. In the mean time, check your phone, it's lighting up."

As Nicky retreated in his room, reaching out to squeeze Rhett's shoulder on the way there, the other man pulled out his device, seeing messages from Steve.

from: "Grant" (1:24 pm)
Do you want to go to cafe
again tomorrow?

from: "Grant" (1:25 pm)
I know you're working today
so not today

He worried on his lip, frowning at the words. Maybe he was being paranoid, but he didn't trust this, not then.

to: "Grant" (1:49 pm)
I have another plan. Meet me
at my school at 3:30

from: "Grant" (1:58 pm)
Okay. Brooklyn Elementary right?

Rhett breathed a sigh of relief, slumping against the table he was leaning against. That eased his worry significantly; he had told Steve where he worked, so he would at least know. However, that didn't mean that it wasn't common knowledge if one looked up his name.

But it was enough.

Later that night, after Rhett had finished his work, he decided to actually eat dinner, cooking ramen for both himself and his roommate. Said man, after smelling the aroma of the food, entered the larger room, frowning slightly.

"You okay?" he asked, and Rhett didn't blame him for asking; he usually only cooked if he was upset.

"Not any better than before, but not worse either," he replied, turning off the stove, grabbing the bowls, handing one to Nicky.

"I'm working on some stuff," the other man said, a promise underneath his words that Rhett didn't need to hear to understand. "Just...you know."

He didn't need to hear those words to know what he said. He set down his bowl and pulled the man into a hug, just holding him close, listening to his breathing and his heartbeat, reminding himself that he was still alive and that was enough for him.

"We're not thirty-five yet," Nicky mumbled, laughing, "I could still find someone."

"Shh..." Rhett whispered, tightening his grip, "I won't let you."

A running joke between the two was that, if they weren't in steady relationships by the time they were thirty-five, they would try being in a less-than platonic relationship. Platonic partners, the two figured that doing the things romantic partners did wouldn't be much of a change to what they were already doing.

Rhett always figured that it was just an inevitability, but he could hope. But he didn't hope too much, of course, or else he wouldn't care so much.

Nicky finally wriggled out of the man's grip, grabbing his bowl and getting himself some ramen, grinning at him with the wide jaw grin that Rhett knew better than the back of his own hand.

"Plans for tomorrow?" Nicky asked as they two ate at the table, trying to avoid the looming topic that was threatening to ruin their day more than it already had.

"Steve's dropping by the school and I'll come up with something that we can do," Rhett sighed, rubbing his eyes, not wanting to tell Nicky about his worry; it would do neither of them any good.

Thankfully, Nicky didn't ask, instead saying, "You're not going back to that coffee shop anymore, huh?"

Rhett shook his head. "Nope. No way, not until this is all cleared up. In the meantime, we'll go play baseball or take a walk or—"

"Rent a hotel room and have some fun," Nicky finished, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking. Rhett scoffed and threw his fork at him, the younger man shouting in protest, laughing.

"You're two consenting adult men, there's no shame," Nicky continued, ignoring the way Rhett was kicking his leg in an effort to get him to stop, "If I were you, I'd be all over that. You read the fanfiction, I'm surprised you haven't tried. I would."

"Yeah, but you're too gone for Sam Wilson to," Rhett scoffed, putting away his bowl, rolling his eyes.

"They're best friends, we're best friends, we could have double weddings," Nicky cried, throwing up his arms, "It's destiny."

"I think you've been hanging out with teenagers too much, find some friends your own age," Rhett said, grinning at him from the kitchen, "Normal ones."

"Normal is only a setting on a washing machine," Nicky scoffed, exaggeratedly rolling his eyes.

Rhett blinked. "Wow...do you have any other slogans from, like, Hot Topic?"

Nicky laughed, throwing his head back, and Rhett just watched him, smiling softly. This was what he liked. Making jokes and references with his best and possibly only friend in the world that he had come to call his own, not having to worry about what might be after him, just happy and okay being what he was, nothing more, nothing less.

It took him a while to figure out who he was in this world, he wasn't about to let it get taken away. None of it.

º º º

It was after school and Rhett was clutching the pair of scissors in his hands like a weapon, which wasn't the best sign in the world. He was trying to cut out papers for the craft he had planned for the class—due to budget cuts, the art teacher had to be let go, meaning that it was up to the homeroom teachers to figure out what to do for art—and his eyes kept drifting over to the clock, pausing his work.

When the clock struck twenty after three, the door opened, and Rhett hated to admit that he nearly jumped, his grip tightening on the scissors. He nearly fell out of his chair with relief when he saw the familiar—or rather, familiar, but different enough—face of Steve "Grant" Rogers.

"You okay?" Steve laughed, noticing the various reactions.

Rhett swallowed and nodded, waving him over. "Yeah. Hey, sorry, I just didn't want to go the cafe again, and I got caught up here, do you still want to go somewhere?"

"I'm fine just staying here if you need to," Steve replied, sitting down in one of the too small chairs, standing up immediately, "That is going to break, is there another..." he trailed off as Rhett dragged over another chair right next to his desk.

"Thanks," Steve said, sitting down and settling into the chair, "What are you doing?"

"Getting a craft project for the class," Rhett began, going on to explain about the budget cuts and how they lost the nice art teacher who always encouraged the kids to follow their dreams and be kind to others.

"That's a shame," Steve commented, picking up one of the various pieces that the kids would be connected with brads so the limbs could move, "You seem to be holding up fairly well."

Rhett scoffed. "No need to be polite. Honestly, there's only so many websites I can go to before they start to get repetitive. Some teachers are inviting in the kids' parents if they have something hands on and interesting, but none of the kids really have any parents available or willing."

Steve hummed, grabbing the spare pair of scissors and a paper, getting to work cutting as well, delicate and careful despite the rough, callousness of a soldier. "I'm sure everything will work out."

Rhett paused for a moment, just watching him work, shocked by his actions. After Steve merely glanced up at him and smiled, the teacher decided just to continue working, appreciating the extra help immensely.

"I want to make one," Steve said, setting down his scissors when they were just more than halfway finished, looking around for colored pencils or markers.

Rhett snorted, setting down his own scissors and stretching out his hand as he went to get Steve some of the colored pencils, telling him to get the brands from his top dest drawer. It would save him time from having to make his own for an example, at least.

He continued to cut out the rest of the parts, glancing over at Steve every few moments, unable to keep from laughing as he caught sight of the concentrated look on the other man's face, treating the coloring of the paper like it was a bomb threat.

"You're distracting me," Steve groaned, pulling away from where he was hunched over on his corner of the desk, popping his back and stretching, Rhett trying not to stare. The solider sighed and gave him a loose smile. "You want more help?"

"I'm good," Rhett replied, stretching out his hand, "Thanks for the help, this got done a lot faster. And you made it a lot less boring."

"D'aw..." Steve drawled, Rhett scoffing and smacking his knee on impulse, reeling back immediately, shocked by what he did. Steve just laughed, pushing him back by the knee.

The two continued to work in silence, the only sound being that of their breathing and the scissors slicing through the paper, as well as the occasional rustle of the box of brads that Steve was rifling through, poking careful holes through the paper.

"You know," Steve said, as he fiddled with his finished product, helping throw away the fallen pieces of paper, Rhett setting the groups of pieces aside, "I could be the art teacher."

Rhett raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? Y-you would do that?"

Steve shrugged. "If they don't have to do an extensive background check or any real digging, I think it'd be fine. After all, any art teacher would know that the kids should cut out the pieces after coloring them."

Rhett rolled his eyes, feeling his face grow warm. "There was an incident with scissors so we try not to let any of the kids get too close as much as possible."

Steve gave him a look that let him know that, while it might have been true, he knew that it wasn't the whole truth. "Okay. Well, if you ever need an art teacher, just call, I don't do much."

"Thanks, Steve," Rhett said, thinking over the offer, "I'll bring it up." He sighed and stretched, checking the clock; they had been sitting together for almost two hours.

"You wanna go for a walk?" he asked, both standing, trying to stifle his yawn.

Steve caught it, however, and smiled, shaking his head. "Go home and get some rest, Rhett. We'll go when you're less tired."

"Sorry," the other man said, smiling bashfully, "Hope this isn't a let down."

"I got to stay with you, didn't I?" Steve said, and Rhett was glad he was leaning against his desk because his knees had gone weak as the other man glanced up at him, his head ducked.

"Y-yeah, I guess," he whispered, and the two just stood there for a moment in the darkness of the classroom and Rhett had to wonder how his life had led him up to that point.

Steve cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away. "I should, uh, let you get going," he said, jerking his thumb towards the door.

"You can come over again if you want, just relax 'til work," Rhett offered.

"No, it's okay, I'll leave you be," Steve said, "But thank you, I'll text you later."

Rhett wanted to argue and insist that Steve not stay alone in his apartment, but stopped himself; it wasn't in his place.

So the two men left the school together side by side, neither speaking, but neither needing to fill the space with words.

As Steve left one way, Rhett wondered what he could say to him. There was so much to say, yet nothing at all.

"Hey, Steve," he called out, glad no other people were around to catch his slip.

The blond looked over his shoulder. "Hm?"

"I'm glad to have you around."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 12.08.17 )

I planned on cutting the chapter short, but I did the math and while I have 57 updates (give or take) before Infinity War, I don't think that's enough, so I'm just trying to do what I can, you know?

Rhett and Nicky are platonic partners and I love them so much. Also, I forgot to mention, Nicky isn't getting with Tony. I feel as though, in another timeline, they could have, as they are really similar, but Nicky is going to be Sam Wilson's love interest.

Also, that one line about the normal being only a setting is a reference to something that I can't recall back to, but it's a hilarious back and forth that I needed to have them reference.

I wasn't sure if the way I incorporated Steve being the art teacher was okay, if it was too soon or what, but I think it was alright and it'll be a little bit before he actually does come in, so we're all good, I guess.

That's all I have to say, I think, so thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!