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Pushing the Waters Back - Push/Avengers crossover
Title: Pushing the Waters Back
Fandom: Push (the movie) and the Avengers movie-verse
author: jebbypal
rating: Teen
summary: Cassie gets annoyed when she discovers Nick has a never-before mentioned twin. Or clone (Division, enough said). Or doppleganger. Either way, this is going to take a lot of alcohol.
warnings:
1) WIP and I'm dusting off my writing muscles
2) You know me, so you know to expect angst
3) Mentions of underage drinking, because it's a integral part of the Push mythos.
4) Unbeta-ed because of #1.
author note: So I've been trying to write Push fic for fleshlycherry for ages now. And earlier this year, when I finally saw Captain America 2, I told her I had a Push crossover bunny. Which I've started from several angles but haven't been happy with. But a new one was just birthed that I think is going to stick. So I'm starting out the new year by posting the start of it in hopes of fulfilling my often resolved New Year's resolution of writing more fic. You guys get to come along for the ride.
Cassie woke to reality by falling out of bed. The experience left her groaning from both pain as well as what she could imagine Nick would have had to say about.
That thought didn’t help her headache any. Which really wasn’t fair given that she hadn’t had a drop to drink since the day that Kira - how many times had she told Nick that Kira would be the death of them - pushed Nick into stepping off that bridge that spanned a river that Cassie couldn’t even remember the name of.
It all led to the same place – even when she did her best to force the visions to keep people safe, to stay one step ahead of Division, she’d never be as good as her mother was. She had one gift, one thing that allowed her to help their tiny band of mental misfits, and she wasn’t good enough at it.
So she left. And left the drinking and the demanding of her brain to give her just another look – a better look – at the future catastrophe that she needed to figure out a way around. And disappeared herself into the nearest nameless, faceless, mass of people-filled city she could find. And every time her gift manifested itself, she pulled up every piece of herself that a sniffer might find, and found a different city to drown herself in.
Good luck to all the Division precogs in fishing her out of ten different oceans’ of minds.
And it had been working for a good 3 years. Working long enough for the universe to amaze Cassie by allowing her to celebrate her 21st birthday. For old time’s sake, she’d bought a shot of the shittiest, strongest alcohol she could find at a local Chinatown dive and toasted to every memory she had of Nick despairing of keeping her underage self sober. Toasted to the memory of every time her drunk ass got Nick into a fight protecting her virtue. Or with other people who wanted to protect her virtue.
Which is how she now found it very unfair to wake up on second day of her 22nd year on this earth, hungover for the first time in 3 years, trying to figure out of the dream she’d just had about Nick was just the universe taunting her with her failures, or a precog of danger to his previously unmentioned clone or twin or doppleganger.
And she cursed her luck when she realized she was going to have to get drunk again to answer that question.
Eight hours, 1 art store buying binge, almost 2 bottles of tequila (and damn, is it unfair that her alcohol tolerance is still high after that long sober. Though it could have more to do with the extra 15 pounds or so of weight she’s put on since her last precog-necessitated bender), and Cassie has drawn badly a number of images of the future.
Page one: a man with a metal arm decorated with a red star reigning chaos on the streets of downtown DC. Though from the news blaring on TV, that one wasn’t so much of the future. That or she should have had the TV going during her bender.
Page 2: a lot of scary looking airships.
“Really, Cassie? That’s supposed to be an airplane?” Nick asked.
Cassie didn’t even need to stick her head out of the shower to look at the page he was perusing as he sat on the cabinet next to the bathroom’s sink. She was much too engrossed in the endless hot water in their Atlantic City Casino nameless hotel. Helping Nick win on the ponies did have its benefits. “Yes, Nick, it’s a plane. A plane with a very strong shade on it that Division is going to bomb out of the sky.”
“It doesn’t look like a plane. It looks like a UFO crossed with a rubber ducky. Why is it orange? I didn’t even know they made orange airplanes.”
“I didn’t see the name of the airline. That’s why it’s orange. And you are supposed to be finding out which airline it is because what you see on the page is all I got. Orange airplane takes off. Orange airplane burst into orange fireball. You want art, go to a museum.”
Page 3: Lots and lots of dead people. Which will someday require Cassie massive amounts of alcohol and an unadvised trip to a Wiper to forget.
Page 4: Oh, look the future changed, thank the fuck for whatever crazy person decided to attach metal wings to themselves. Cassie is never going to get used to superheroes no matter how many times Iron Man and the Hulk save the world. She’s just glad they stay out of her dreams for the most part.
Page 5: Nick’s clone falling out of the sky but not dying. But like his twin, he seems to have a thing about falling into bodies of water unconscious, so the future is still undecided on the outcome.
So now she needs to do a lot more drawing to see if she can figure out where he falls to save his life because that seems to be the only aspect of her precog that she can alter. At least, it’s the only one she can alter since she has 18 hours to figure it out from what she can tell and that’s not enough time to find a pusher or a mover strong enough to either a) mind control her way into whatever military installation the death airships will launch from and find the one that Nick’s clone is on, or b) have a mover stop Nick’s clone fall from said airship of death as it blows up.
Cassie hates her life right now. And not just because she’s going to have risk alcohol poisoning to figure this out.
Fandom: Push (the movie) and the Avengers movie-verse
author: jebbypal
rating: Teen
summary: Cassie gets annoyed when she discovers Nick has a never-before mentioned twin. Or clone (Division, enough said). Or doppleganger. Either way, this is going to take a lot of alcohol.
warnings:
1) WIP and I'm dusting off my writing muscles
2) You know me, so you know to expect angst
3) Mentions of underage drinking, because it's a integral part of the Push mythos.
4) Unbeta-ed because of #1.
author note: So I've been trying to write Push fic for fleshlycherry for ages now. And earlier this year, when I finally saw Captain America 2, I told her I had a Push crossover bunny. Which I've started from several angles but haven't been happy with. But a new one was just birthed that I think is going to stick. So I'm starting out the new year by posting the start of it in hopes of fulfilling my often resolved New Year's resolution of writing more fic. You guys get to come along for the ride.
Cassie woke to reality by falling out of bed. The experience left her groaning from both pain as well as what she could imagine Nick would have had to say about.
That thought didn’t help her headache any. Which really wasn’t fair given that she hadn’t had a drop to drink since the day that Kira - how many times had she told Nick that Kira would be the death of them - pushed Nick into stepping off that bridge that spanned a river that Cassie couldn’t even remember the name of.
It all led to the same place – even when she did her best to force the visions to keep people safe, to stay one step ahead of Division, she’d never be as good as her mother was. She had one gift, one thing that allowed her to help their tiny band of mental misfits, and she wasn’t good enough at it.
So she left. And left the drinking and the demanding of her brain to give her just another look – a better look – at the future catastrophe that she needed to figure out a way around. And disappeared herself into the nearest nameless, faceless, mass of people-filled city she could find. And every time her gift manifested itself, she pulled up every piece of herself that a sniffer might find, and found a different city to drown herself in.
Good luck to all the Division precogs in fishing her out of ten different oceans’ of minds.
And it had been working for a good 3 years. Working long enough for the universe to amaze Cassie by allowing her to celebrate her 21st birthday. For old time’s sake, she’d bought a shot of the shittiest, strongest alcohol she could find at a local Chinatown dive and toasted to every memory she had of Nick despairing of keeping her underage self sober. Toasted to the memory of every time her drunk ass got Nick into a fight protecting her virtue. Or with other people who wanted to protect her virtue.
Which is how she now found it very unfair to wake up on second day of her 22nd year on this earth, hungover for the first time in 3 years, trying to figure out of the dream she’d just had about Nick was just the universe taunting her with her failures, or a precog of danger to his previously unmentioned clone or twin or doppleganger.
And she cursed her luck when she realized she was going to have to get drunk again to answer that question.
Eight hours, 1 art store buying binge, almost 2 bottles of tequila (and damn, is it unfair that her alcohol tolerance is still high after that long sober. Though it could have more to do with the extra 15 pounds or so of weight she’s put on since her last precog-necessitated bender), and Cassie has drawn badly a number of images of the future.
Page one: a man with a metal arm decorated with a red star reigning chaos on the streets of downtown DC. Though from the news blaring on TV, that one wasn’t so much of the future. That or she should have had the TV going during her bender.
Page 2: a lot of scary looking airships.
Cassie didn’t even need to stick her head out of the shower to look at the page he was perusing as he sat on the cabinet next to the bathroom’s sink. She was much too engrossed in the endless hot water in their Atlantic City Casino nameless hotel. Helping Nick win on the ponies did have its benefits. “Yes, Nick, it’s a plane. A plane with a very strong shade on it that Division is going to bomb out of the sky.”
“It doesn’t look like a plane. It looks like a UFO crossed with a rubber ducky. Why is it orange? I didn’t even know they made orange airplanes.”
“I didn’t see the name of the airline. That’s why it’s orange. And you are supposed to be finding out which airline it is because what you see on the page is all I got. Orange airplane takes off. Orange airplane burst into orange fireball. You want art, go to a museum.”
Page 3: Lots and lots of dead people. Which will someday require Cassie massive amounts of alcohol and an unadvised trip to a Wiper to forget.
Page 4: Oh, look the future changed, thank the fuck for whatever crazy person decided to attach metal wings to themselves. Cassie is never going to get used to superheroes no matter how many times Iron Man and the Hulk save the world. She’s just glad they stay out of her dreams for the most part.
Page 5: Nick’s clone falling out of the sky but not dying. But like his twin, he seems to have a thing about falling into bodies of water unconscious, so the future is still undecided on the outcome.
So now she needs to do a lot more drawing to see if she can figure out where he falls to save his life because that seems to be the only aspect of her precog that she can alter. At least, it’s the only one she can alter since she has 18 hours to figure it out from what she can tell and that’s not enough time to find a pusher or a mover strong enough to either a) mind control her way into whatever military installation the death airships will launch from and find the one that Nick’s clone is on, or b) have a mover stop Nick’s clone fall from said airship of death as it blows up.
Cassie hates her life right now. And not just because she’s going to have risk alcohol poisoning to figure this out.