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For the last three and a half days or so, Ava hasn't checked in at Alias Investigations. Granted, it isn't exactly a real job, she's not the sort of person who needs a keeper, and the people at Alias don't seem like the sorts who need to be reassured much. But the last time they'd looked for the missing girl, she'd been interested in looking at the soup kitchen. So it's a little odd that she hasn't checked in.
If you know why she's been missing, it's a little less odd. An altercation with one Winter Soldier has left her in the hospital for the past few days, and Peggy Carter was loathe to let her out knowing she was going back to a basement rather than an actual apartment. Ava was too stubborn to go home with the director, so here she is a few days later, limping back down the stairs with a small paper bag clutched in her hand.
She has a sling around one arm, bandages wrapped around her ribs beneath her clothes. But the impressive part is the multi-colored bruise along her jaw, meeting up with a definite wide line around her throat as well. "Sasha cat," she whispers hoarsely, giving the bag a light shake.
*
"Mrowr!"
The cat lets out a greeting, but doesn't come right away. Instead, Ava will be able to hear the little animal …purring?
In the darkness, she can just make out the outline of a figure on her bed and the smell of cigarette smoke. As she gets farther inside, there's a lit cherry from a cigarette and the eyes of her cat.
"Evenin', cherie. Y'look like shit, lady."
*
Apparently, being one-handed doesn't mean Ava can't reach for her gun. The moment she gets the sense that there's someone else in the house, she drops the bag and pulls a gun from beneath her coat, aiming it in the direction of that presence. That is, until she recognizes him.
Sighing, she lowers the gun, awkwardly tucking it back away as she leans down for the bag, wincing in the process. "Well, I picked a fight with someone bigger and stronger than me," she says ruefully, moving to the center of the room to pull the string on the single lightbulb that hangs from the ceiling. "I didn't exactly lose."
*
"Dun really look like you won, neider," Remy replies. He lets the cat go to greet Ava and puts a cigarette out in the full ashtray, dabbing it a few times to be sure that it is out. He's been here a while.
He gets up to his feet for a better look tilting his head toward the side of her blue face and reaching up to almost touch her, but doesn't want to hurt her face any more than it does already. "Who be goin' aftah my lil friend, Ava? And what fo' pray-tell?"
*
"I got in the way of someone else's problem," Ava shrugs, tilting her head to let him get a look without touching. "But the guy was wearing some sort of gas mask, blew up half a street, and was going after a pregnant lady, so I wasn't going to just run away, you know?"
She moves to sit on the edge of the bed, unrolling the top of the bag to pull out…looks like leftover fish sticks. "Sasha cat," she sing-songs, tapping her fingers on the bed to let the scrawny little cat know there's food. "He was too strong, though. And well-trained."
*
"My lil hero," Remy says with a grin as she leaves him standing there. "Sound like you gave 'im a run for 'is money. You nab him or he get away?"
Remy reaches into his pocket for the soft pack of cigarettes he carries in his trench coat. He expertly taps the closed edge of the pack lightly and a lone cigarette comes out of the opened part. There's a clink of a zippo lighter and he begins to puff away. "Been feedin' your cat de last few days. Noticed dat de water dish was bone dry. Figured you be needin' a hand."
*
"He got away," Ava shakes her head. "He-" She pauses then, frowning as she watches the cat eat. "I think he must have been part of the…"
She trails off, lips pursing. She's never been much for sharing, but there are things that are hard to explain without going into her past. "Thank you," she says quietly instead. "I was a little worried about her. Not much, she's a scrapper herself. But I didn't want to call anyone from the hospital in case the police tried to look into it."
*
"Secret safe wit me, Ava," Remy says as he exhales a poof of grey smoke and holds the cigarette between one gloved finger and one free. "Tell me more 'bout dis guy, hmm?" After a brief pause, he adds, "Don't you worry 'bout nuffin. Ole Remy loves cats."
*
Ava shifts a bit on the bed, leaning back against the wall and crossing her legs. "I'm from Russia," she begins, absently stroking a finger along the back of the cat's ears. "And there, my parents were scientists. They worked for something called the Red Room. There is KGB, and then…And then, deeper in the darkness, there is the Red Room. And even deeper still into the Red Room, there was OPUS. They were OPUS."
She keeps her eyes on the cat, as if it's easier to say the words without meeting his eye as well. "The Red Room taught many things. Mostly they taught girls to be spies. To be more American than the Americans. To be ready when called. But there were other parts, like my parents, too. But when I fought with him, he used words that are meant to- If my parents-"
Frowning, she stops again. There's just no way to explain it without her whole story. "There is conditioning in the Red Room. To make sure that the girls are obedient. To control them. OPUS was a slightly different program. My parents were working on a machine, a program, a system that could link one mind to another. No need to even spy. Link an operative to someone you want to get information from and you just…look in."
*
"And dis guy is one of dem? Or you are one of dem?" Remy says with another exhale as he looks down at the cement floor and kicks at the metal drainage cover with his boot. "Sounds like some s'rious shit."
*
"It is complicated." Apparently. Ava tucks her hair behind her ear, choosing her words. "The people who ran the program, they split up my parents. And they used me as a subject. For OPUS. But there was a woman who had escaped from the Red Room. She came to shut everything down. Except in the fight, they used the OPUS program. They linked me and her. That is where I first learned many of my skills."
She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Anyhow. This man, he fought like I do. And when we were fighting, he tried to use some of the trigger words on me. I'm not Red Room, or not the same way this woman was, so it didn't…exactly work. But when he did, I remembered everything they did to her to instill that programming." She hangs her head. "I was…incapacitated for a few moments." Screaming, retching, wildly arcing electricity. But "incapacitated" works.
*
"Tings always complicated until you make em less so," Remy says ominously. He's not sure he believes all this scientific mumbo gumbo, but he believes that she believes it, and that's what matters to him. "Y'need anything, chere? Sometin' t'eat? Sometin' t'drink? Ice?"
*
"I think I may need to find an actual apartment," Ava smiles faintly. "If I'm going to be really doing this? I don't like being on the books somewhere. I don't like having a real address. But it might be time to have a place that's a little bit more…secure than this." She pushes a hand through her hair, looking around the place. "But right now? I think…I'm mostly all right. How are things on the Charlotte case?"
*
"Well, sure if you ask Jess she might let ya stay at her pad a while. I could move to de floor, or you both might get super fun and decide to share a bed. Dats my vote," Remy says with a grin. "Charlotte? Not sure. Jess be takin' de lead on everyting. Think she's freezin' ole Remy out a lil bit till things blow over between us."
*
Ava quirks a brow at the last, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "What did you do this time?" she asks, reaching into the bag she got the fish sticks out of to pull out a roll. Apparently she was squirreling away the hospital food. She's resourceful, at least.
*
"Tole her how I felt," Remy says. "She ain't reciprocatin', if you get my meanin. Put a cramp on errything." He shrugs and chuckles a bit. "Guess dats what happens when a good ting is ruined by feelin's and dead ex-wives."
*
"Oh," Ava says softly, lips twisting in a sympathetic grimace. "I'm sorry. That must be…" She pauses then, brows furrowing. "Wait, but you're still staying on her couch?"
*
"Beats payin' rent. And I admit I kinda like de drama. She's a feisty one, dat Jessica." Remy chuckles. "I stay on dat couch, stay on dat bed," he says nodding to Ava's bed. "Least when you're not in it. And a couple of other couches and what not. I know a lot of folks."
*
Ava does not look convinced. "You know," she says. "If you didn't mind splitting the rent, we could probably share a place. Not to steal your drama, but it might be a little less…awkward. And it would save me from needing to find someone to share the bills. Just…an option."
*
"Not a bad idea," Remy says tilting his head. "Suppose I could just find a place to sleep when you bring a man into de house. Also, I sleep in de nude, so we'd better get ourselves a two bedroom."
*
"I don't generally bring men home," Ava smirks, raising a hand to continue before he can. "You're just that special, Remy. Besides, if I did, it would be a good way to tell if he wasn't worth the trouble. I'm never going to be some white picket fence housewife. Best they be aware of that early."
*
"Ah ain't gun be no white picket housewife neider. Had a white picket fence. Had a house, once upon a time. Down in Nawlins. Big ole wheepin' willow in de front yard. Dose days are gone now, tho." Remy looks sad for the first time since she's known him. "And dats okay."
*
Ava tilts her head slightly, watching him. "It's okay to be sad about that, too," she says quietly. "I can barely remember when my parents were even together before they died. But I know they loved each other. I know they loved me. I'm sorry about your ex-wife."
*
"T'anks, kiddo. We din get 'long to well, t'be honest. She really drove me up a wall. Dat bein' said, I wish she'd be still around. Ain't no good in it, no good at all," Remy says. He drops the cigarette on the concrete floor and looks to her. "Where you wanna live? Got enough for a down payment and couple mont's rent."
*
"I've had some things saved up," Ava nods. Though just where she's keeping what's no doubt cash she has hidden away is up for grabs. Some bolthole somewhere. "I'm not all that picky, though. As long as it's still in New York, of course. Wherever we can find something affordable where people don't ask too many questions, I guess."
*
There's a pang in Remy's stomach that makes him want to blurt out Hell's Kitchen. But he knows that another place would be better for him. Probably for Jessica too. "Maybe Harlem? Ain't no one askin' no questions in Harlem."
*
"You don't think we'll stand out there?" Ava quirks a brow. It's not a no, she's just being as cautious as she ever is. "What about M-Town? Or is that a little too on the nose?"
*
"May have a point, chere," Remy says. "Bit o' apprehension at movin' to de Mutant Town. Burned a lotta bridges in dat part of town. Still do a lot of business dere." And a ton of people know he was in jail for torturing a cop, too. We all have our skeletons.
*
"Well, there's always Brooklyn here. Or Chinatown. Though we'd sort of stand out there. But I do speak Mandarin." Ava leans back against the wall again, letting out a slow breath as she stretches to one side. "Maybe we just shop around and see what we find, wherever it turns out to be?"
*
"Sound' like a plan," Remy says, still not sure that this is a good idea. How is Ava going to react when there's a stream of women coming out of his room? Or when he has to pack up and leave? Remy has never really worried about the future. Why start now?
*
Well, as long as he properly vets them. Besides, he probably needs someone to make sure the women he brings home don't go crazy and throw all his stuff out the window. "I'll keep an eye open," Ava nods, taking a bite of the roll. "I need to go back to that free clinic in Harlem. The last time I went, I was going to have someone look at some scratches from a fight with a vampire and before I could even see a doctor? They'd been healed. Someone there's got powers."
*
Remy nods, "Lemme know what y'find. Gun grab my stuff from Jess' place, prolly sometime when she not home. Sound like a pretty good doctor."
*
"I don't think it was a doctor," Ava shakes her head. "A nurse. Maybe just a receptionist. Anyway, I'm going to be pretty useless for a while if I don't see about getting it rushed." She shifts, pulling the sling from her shoulder and rolling up her sleeve to show her upper arm where there's a livid handprint bruise. "The doctor said there were a whole bunch of small fractures and I should try not to upset it for a bit."
*
"Aww, hell, chere," Remy looks pained as he inspects her arm. "Y'need me to go out and get some painkillers?" He has connections. All sorts of connections.
*
"He tried to put his knee in my face and ended up putting a six-inch dent in a car door, Remy," Ava points out, voice low. "I think I came out all right. It's okay, though. The hospital sent me home with a few things. I don't want to take too many pills anyhow. I get all fuzzy, and…if I don't focus I could lose some control over my powers."
*
"Losin' control bother you, huh?" Remy can't help it. It's natural. "Well, okay den. If dere anyting ole Remy can do you just let him know, hear?"
*
"It can be a little showy," Ava smirks. "And you know how I feel about drawing attention." The little cat finishes up her meal, rubbing her head against Ava's knee with a put before hopping off the bed to trot over to Gambit for his donation to the cause. "I will, I promise. Next time I'll call you to check on Sasha cat."
*
"Well, if we be movin' in togetha, you should know de cat is very fond of me," Remy says with a grin. "Mostly on account that I keep some kibble in my pocket." He drops a couple of bites for her on the ground.
*
"She's a clever cat," Ava laughs low, even if it makes her wince. "She knows who she can get food out of." Though given how scrawny she is, that's a short list. "Thank you, Remy," she says with quiet sincerity. "For checking."
*
"Course, love. You'd do de same for me," Remy says, givin' her a wink. "Imma stop by de ole place and grab my stuff. Y'mind if I keep it here durin' de interim?"
*
"Feel free," Ava gestures around, smile flickering. "Could even pull another cot down here if you want. I promise not to be weird or anything."
*
"Babe, I promise ya you ain't seen nothin' weird, yet," Remy says as he tilts his head and gives her a look. "But I ain't gun get in t'all o' dat."
*
Ava quirks a brow, amused. "I am not afraid of weird," she points out. "Only letting you know that it should be…relatively quiet. So. If things get too uncomfortable with Jessica, you have an option."
*
"Tink I make it more uncomfortable den it needed t'be," Remy says with a grin. "What can I say? Found de first bird who couldn't find me irresistible. First time for erryting."
*
Ava shakes her head with a faint smile, keeping her commentary to herself. "I'm going to go to sleep," she announces, carefully shrugging out of her coat. "I need to rest so that I can heal. You can stay if you want."
*
"Yeah, prolly should get a wink," Remy replies as he shrugs out of his coat. "Were dat cot at?" he asks, lookin' around with his crimson and black eyes. "Bet you'll be glad to be outta here."
*
The last comment gives Ava a moment of pause as she looks around. "Not really," she admits. "It's not much, but…it's all I've really ever had that was mine. But…I can't be afraid of change. Cots are upstairs, in the closet to the right. There's a spare blanket over there," she nods to a ratty thing folded on top of the newspapers. Probably how she gets through the winter.
*
"Aiight, lemme head upstairs a spell and grab one." The Cajun hops up the stairs two at a time and pulls down a cot before he reaches for the blanket upon his return. "Which side of your face should I throw things on when you start snorin?"
*
"Put the pillow over your own head and save yourself the trouble," Ava smirks as she pulls her shoes off, setting them aside. The lying down part is a little more complicated, given her ribs, but she's too stubborn to ask for help with that.
*
"I get it," Remy says as he adjusts himself and looks up at the cracks in the ceiling. "Y'want ole Remy to live with you so you can smother him, den take all his money."
*
"I'll be filthy rich," Ava mumbles into her pillow with a sound suspiciously like a laugh. "I can quit this life of aimless begging and soup kitchens and…What do rich people do anyhow? Breed horses?"
*
"Breed horses and head to the Hamptons," Remy adds. "All of your wildest dreams will come true. Just you wait."
*
"What do they do with the horses?" Ava mumbles, pulling her blanket up over her shoulders. "Money makes people strange, Remy. Maybe I won't smother you for yours."
*
"Dey make dem have sex, Ava," Remy says shaking his head. "There a lotta sick bastards in dis world."
*
"That's what breeding means," Ava snickers, pulling the blanket up over her head. "I just meant, what do they need all the horses for? Probably best not to know," she yawns. "G'night, Remy."
*
"Night, Ava."