bakerstreet | We can have a life together.

We can have a life together.

Being with someone can change your life. But what if you can't have your old life back? For your own sake, the sake of your relationship, or by no choice of your own, you have to leave the old you behind. It can go from anything to changing a behavior to changing your whole identity, and all of it can be difficult. One thing is clear, however; to continue where or as you'd lived before is not an option if you want to keep this person you care for in your life.

how to play;

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THERE WILL BE QUESTIONABLE CONTENT. Just because it's a shipping meme doesn't means everything's fluffy; in fact, more options than not have some unfortunate implications.

prompts;

Open Secret: You two have never specifically said who you are in this new place, though you've never denied it.
Witness Protection: To protect your lives, you must live under assumed identities.
Your Real Life: What you knew before was false. This is the actuality.
After a Tragedy: All your friends are dead. Your group is shaken. You saw someone you love murdered. The only other person you have left is the one you're with.
Second Chance at Life: After a brush with death, you've decided to do things right and actually live.
I Don't Want this Life, Dean: You don't want to continue in the family business - er, in your old ways set up by someone else, so you cling to someone who can give you a normal life.
Criminal: You did a bad thing and are wanted. For your protection and the safety of the one you lo...that person, you have to hide.

Turning Over a New Leaf: You're genuinely trying to become a better person and you can't do that with the reminders of your old home and old life.
Rehabilitation: Your lover is helping you get over your wounds, your traumas, or your flaws.
Blank Slate: You have to have a new life because you don't know your old one! All you know is the person you're with and the things they can tell you.
Partners in Crime: You two are rough around the edges, but you're reformed. Really, you just want a peaceful life!

Old Habits Die Hard: No matter what your life is now, you can't shake the need to double check the locks or hold your magic wand tight.
Guilt: You're guilty about your relationship, so you have to reside in hiding.
Through Elicit Means: You got with your partner through cheating and you want to keep that fact on the low.
Stolen Away: You stole your partner - from a bad situation or from someone cruel - so you have to keep your heads down
Taboo:
1. Incest: It's better for you to live where no one know's you're related.
2. Age Difference: You can always fake IDs and birth certificates.
3. Interspecies: There has to be somewhere that doesn't have the prejudices of your home.
Tyrannical Government: You're political enemies drawn together. Perhaps you're working to undermine the government, or maybe you've escaped from that place and are living in peace.
Pulled from the Darkness: Your previous life was so terrible, you don't want to even ponder it any more. End of story, it doesn't matter.
Dependent: You don't know anyone else in this new world of yours, or you don't know how to navigate it, making you dependent on your partner.
Protecting Them: You're with them and hiding them for their own benefit.
They Don't About Your Past:
1. Secret Monster: If they knew about who you used to be, they'd be disgusted and want nothing to do with you.
3. For Them: You're dangerous to be around, so you can't clue them in lest an old enemy or your own abilities come back and harm them.
4. Florence Nightingale: They found you and took you in to help you, no questions asked. You couldn't help but fall for them.
Using Them: This new life is just a sham. You want them to be your camouflage, maybe even getting others to believe you've changed.
Faked Turned Real:
Brainwashing:
1. One-Sided: You love them and want them to believe that things have always been like this. Can you be blamed for going about it this way?
2. Mutual: Both of you think you've always lived this life, thanks to outside forces.
Who Am I, Really?: You love your partner, but you feel like you're losing yourself.
WILDCARD

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It hadn't been that hard to find him again, honestly. Natasha knew him a lot better than she had the first time she'd tracked him down, and although he'd tried to throw her off and he'd been pretty smart about it too, finding people was part of what she'd always done. It was part of what she was, in some ways.

Most of the hard part had actually been losing her own tail, although whether they were following her, or following her in the hope of finding him, she wasn't entirely sure. Maybe both. She'd had to lead them around, though, through more than a few changes of identity and disguise, and it had taken time and effort. She just hopes it was going to be worth it, after all this.

She's dark-haired now, pulled back severely, and dressed conservatively in a dark skirt and a short trenchcoat. No children this time, no deliveries for him to be suspicious of, no attempt to hide her face from him; she's here because she wants to be, and either he'll answer the door because he wants to, or he won't and she'll leave again.

Bruce needed time. Well, he mostly needed to get away, he needed to be alone again, that much he has voiced before, even if only to one person - but after everything with Ultron, after Sokovia, he needed time too. Time to process his thoughts and his feelings, not only on the battle itself, but with regards to his teammates too, and most of all, Natasha.

He had been angry at first, admittedly. He wouldn't go so far as to say betrayed, but there was definitely a layer of hurt about the way she shoved him off that cliff, a crack to the trust he had built towards her that he had thought to be so solid. Now, though? He understands, in a way. At least he accepts it, sees why what she did was necessary, and he's moved past it. He doesn't want to cling to the bad thoughts. He much prefers the good memories, even if memories might be all they are now.

Of course that he's figured people are looking for him, and he realizes too that it's likely just a matter of time before he's found, even if he picks a remote little corner of the world to settle down for a while (he'll move eventually, of course, he doesn't want to risk staying in the same place for too long). But he doesn't expect Natasha to be the person to be knocking at his door.

It takes him a few seconds to figure out what to do. Looking through the peephole, he rests his forehead against the door, licking his lips and swallowing dryly. He almost ignores the knock, even though he knows she must have heard him on the other side, but eventually he takes a step back, reaching for the knob and opening the door.

"Natasha." Her name comes out a little strained, and he can nearly feel his heart stuck halfway up his throat. "You found me."

She doesn't show it all that much, because habit and training are still stronger than emotion most of the time, but- there's definite relief when he does choose to answer the door. She wouldn't have been completely surprised if the door stayed closed, or even if he opened it only to tell her to leave. Bruce is always angry, and what she'd done, she would have expected angrier than this, the open door and the faint catch in his voice.

She doesn't regret what she did back there, not in the way she does so many other things. She does feel a faint sense of regret for the aftermath of it, though, especially now she's looking at him.

Still, standing silent on his doorstep is definitely going to look suspicious if someone is watching, and after a moment she raises a polite smile, trained and polished and a thousand miles from genuine. Some things she can't risk, and drawing attention to them now... that's one of them. So although it's hard to look at him and speak in the polite tones of an acquaintance, if it keeps him safe, she'll do it.

"Doctor Banner. It wasn't that hard, not once I had the address."

She tilts her head slightly, one eyebrow raised, hoping he can understand there are things they shouldn't talk about out here. Inside is only slightly safer than outside if someone is determined, but at least it will shield them from casual observers. She closes her eyes for a moment, keeping herself professional.

"Are we having this conversation out here, or can I come in? I won't be long, if you don't want me to stay."

Manner of speech, really. He's not always angry, in fact his control comes more from the opposite: not letting anger or any other emotion get the best of him. And right now, despite everything that's happened, he doesn't really have a reason to feel angry, at least not anymore.

He's had years of practice after all, of training and learning how to let go of certain feelings. And anger only works as an acid poured into him. It's not something he likes much.

Her words and tone of voice are enough to make him realize that indeed, staying here with the door open really isn't the smartest move. Promptly, he nods, stepping back and holding the door open for her, gesturing inside.

"Come on in."

It can't be much of a surprise that the apartment is small and plain. There's an old bed by a corner, and a tattered couch pushed against another wall, mostly covered in clothes and some papers - clearly he hasn't made much use of it. There's a small kitchenette with a few old basic appliances by a corner, and a table and chair that look like they could break apart if something heavy enough were to be set on top of them.

But it works for him. He's never really needed much, and when the purpose is to try and hide away, the simpler the better. Once she's inside, he closes the door and turns to her, his arms crossing over his chest in an instinctively defensive way. He's not sure what to expect right now, but he tries to tell himself he's ready for any reaction he might get from her.

She assesses the apartment in one quick look; no-one waiting, at least. She's stayed in worse, in her time, too. Not much to lose if he has to leave fast, nothing that looks all that sentimental, but she's never really had that either. It's one of the things she thought they had in common, honestly, the shared knowledge that nothing lasts.

She assesses Bruce the same way, a quick once over to take in the details. He looks okay, or at least not visibly unhealthy. Defensive, but then she probably deserves that.

She approaches cautiously, the couple of steps she needs to take to be able to reach out, rest her hand on the back of his arm. She can fake almost anything, from attraction through to adoration- but anything with real feelings, anything that requires her to be genuine? That's harder. She was never meant to get attached to people.

"You can relax, if you think I'm here on official business. No-one knows I'm here, unless they've gotten much better at it than they were."

She hopes no-one knows she's here, anyway. She keeps that out of her voice, giving as little away as possible for now.

"This is- personal. I took a little leave of absence, off the books."

He should be expecting just about anything, any kind of reaction from her, and yet it's only when her hand reaches out and rests lightly on his arm that he realizes he only really prepared himself for a negative outburst. The gentle and careful touch throws him off his balance, his eyes falling to her hand and arm, then moving up to her face, looking admittedly surprised.

It takes him a few seconds and an actual conscious thought process for his arms to unwind a little, some of the tension seeping away. He takes a deep breath, tries to clear his mind somewhat before he says anything at all.

"That's good to know."

He means it. It's a relief that no one's trying to get to him now, that this meeting isn't just a reprise of the first time they met. A small voice at the back of his mind still tells him there's no reason he should trust her, but he finds that despite everything that's happened, his trust in her is still very much there. Weakened, wavering, but there nonetheless.

"Why?" The single word comes quietly, cracking a little, his expression turning into something more pained and less guarded. "Why are you here, Natasha? You know-- I can't go back. I can't be part of the team again."

"Someone told me once to run with it," she starts, one corner of her mouth turning up slightly. Surprise isn't so bad, as reactions go. She can work with surprise, especially when he relaxes a little. "I'm running with it. Or maybe to it."

It's not enough, though, she knows. But it's always hard to open up, even to the few people she considers friends. She compartmentalises her feelings, a necessary skill for her usual line of work, but not really helpful here. For a moment, she runs her fingers along Bruce's forearm, careful as always, taking a little time to think what to say.

"I'm not here to make you go back. Even if I wanted to, I don't think there's anything I can offer that would make you want to, and I'm not going to even try forcing you." It comes out dryly; if she was enough, he'd have stayed to begin with. She's definitely not trying to trick him back to the team again either, because force or trick, if he doesn't want to be there he'll never stay. "I told you, this is... personal. I wanted to see you, that's all."

See him, talk to him, work out if there's anything left of their tenuous connection to salvage or if it's too splintered and warped to ever have a chance to mend.

He almost smiles at the words; almost. But the most he can manage is a twitch of his lips, tired and making it almost look like it's been a long time since his muscles have worked themselves into a positive expression. There's still a certain ring to it, though, hearing the words coming from her. Pulls him back to the memory in Clint's house, of all things, all of them aching inside and out, feeling their wounds exposed more than ever before. Something about missing their chance. Didn't they?

Running with it. Makes it sound a whole lot easier than it really is. But then reality's always been cold and raw and unpleasant more often than not.

His other arm moves, hand lifting and very slowly reaching for hers, his own fingers hesitant as they brush over her knuckles. God, he's missed her. And he's hating himself a little more for that, too. "You're seeing me now," he says, his voice nearly a mutter, eyes lifting to her face again, lips pressing hesitantly before he asks. "How are you?"

It's more than just a casual question; he does want to know how she is after everything, how everything turned out in the end. He's read some news so he has the gist of the events, but no idea how it's affected the team at large - if there's still even a team to speak of.

(OOC: I am all right with all choices except for number 14. Everything else is free game. And if you wish to know about the difference between this Soushi from the original version, then please read his profile and expect some end of series spoilers as well.)

[Edna had always known that there would come a time she couldn't keep living the way she had. Her family had always been isolated-- at least, as far as she knew. Their bloodline was that of the Mizuchi, something she didn't understand until she was old enough that her brother could explain it to her. Even so, she never felt like he'd been completely honest with her. What she understood was that because of their bloodline, he wasn't just the normal person she always saw. There was also a part of him that was the Mizuchi-- a serpent-like dragon and water deity. As a child she'd almost thought of it as just some story. However, as her brother changed, she had seen it for herself. There was something that made him different. He was the only family she had, and more than that... she loved him. That's why even as he began to change-- she'd stayed by his side. But in the back of her mind she knew... she knew that one day something would happen. He was being corrupted... by what, she didn't know. There was still so much she didn't understand about that one thing that made them so different.

But eventually she had to get out of there.

She didn't have a plan- or even a place to go to. It was crazy, probably, but it was the only choice she had. On top of that... she had a bad habit, born from years of solitude. To cover up her social awkwardness, she found herself teasing and tormenting the people she met. That's why she thought that she'd be stuck living this way... on the road with her umbrella and whatever she could carry with her. She needed to find a way to help her brother, if it was even possible. That's why she had no choice. Curled up with her legs against her chest, she finally found sleep that night leaning against the wall of a shop on the street corner.

Until morning, when the gentle bump of someone passing by woke her. Naturally her reaction was to hone in on that person and--]

You're pretty big for a bed bug.

[Bed... okay, she doesn't have one. But there is a "pest" here waking her up. Although she really wished she could just keep her mouth shut.]

[A light chuckle will escape his lips at the description.]

"Big", yes, I've been described as such many times beforehand. However, it is the first time any one has compared me to a bug. Good work over finding a clever way to greet someone especially after rudely being awakened.

[He understood the reason she referred to him as a bed bug because he has technically awakened her from her current one. Even though she did not have a bed, he did not allow the amusement of it go by him.

Leaning before her, Soushi's expression will slightly change from amusement to some concern for the young girl's appearance and situation.]

Are you able to stand? It's unusual to stumble upon someone by my mother's store. No matter how good the sales are for her clothing design. How long have you been here for? The store doesn't open until....now, I suppose. [As he was the one in charge of looking after his mother's precious local businesses as she was currently overseas with his father for fashion week. It was fortunate the small girl was found by him or else the employees would demand for her to leave instead of worrying about her. Somehow, he feels she has a long and unusual story because no one, not even the homeless, would rest in a spot as high class as his mother's store. They usually go elsewhere. Either this young girl needs help or she isn't accustomed to living alone.] Ah! I do apologize for awakening you without warning, but I was worried if you were hurt in some way. I didn't wish to touch without your consent.

[This guy worked here? Crap. She'd stayed here too long... she didn't expect anyone to be here this early. Or was it just that she'd lost track of time? Looking him over she definitely doesn't get the sense that he's someone she has to fear. 'Polite' seems like an understatement with this guy. Like trying to hid half a cup of sugar in your coffee. She hadn't expected him to find amusement in that. Most people found her off-putting and not without good reason. She didn't try it. She didn't know how to be any other way. Friends... she'd never had them. It was just her and her brother. And now... just her.

Because she was always travelling, she'd found herself in another place she didn't know anything about. And a high class one that didn't really suit her. Although her clothes were far from what you'd expect from a homeless person- and clean to boot- it was hard not to question someone who chose the streets as the place for their nap time. The only reason she still looks that way is because of the amount of care she put into keeping it that way. These clothes, these shoes, these gloves... they were all gifts from her brother. Things she cared about dearly. No matter what her life had become, she wanted to be able to maintain these last precious reminders she had of why she was doing this.

Yet again her response is almost instantaneous, a wry smile on her face. To be fair though-- this guy made it easy.]

If you say 'Lady Edna, please let me help you up.' I may just let you.

[If he really does it then she'll know she was still sleeping. Or had walked right into Oz.]

[He'll silently observe her with keen interest due to many reasons other than her mysterious precense by the store. By simply watching her mannerisms and state of her clothing, he can already tell that she does not mean any harm. She was someone with a candid personality, but hides it behind a facade to protect herself with. Her clothes suggest great care and good hygiene as she didn't offer any odd ordor nor her clothes did. For someone without a home, she was energetic and wasn't jaded by the harsh environment nor the current society. The short overview about her personality began to remind him slightly of his mother's character traits whenever she felt flustered or defensive.

What would his father advice him to do whenever she offered remarks similar to the way the young lady before him offered?

Without having to consult with his memories, the answer came almost naturally to him. He'll slightly lean forward, offer his right hand, and give her the most polite and gentle smile that he can offer her.]

As you wish, Lady Edna. [Without warning nor reason, sparkles will surround him as his gaze shows his genuine interest in assisting her.] May I be given this great honor-- no, pleasure to help you back on your feet? My only wish is to make absolute certain that you are unharmed in any way; otherwise, my heart will continue to ache with great pain. [Now he looked like a kick puppy as he does imagine the pain Hatchiko must have felt over his missing owner.]