Ring Them Bells

Soulmarks—and, particularly, multiple soulmarks—have been the chief way history’s greatest spies and turncoats are found out.

In response to this, beginning in WWII, scientists began developing serums, drugs, even skin-bleaches to mask or even remove soulmarks.

                                          Soulmarks & Spies: A Brief History of Soulmarks and Their Effect on Modern Warfare by Gwen Stacy

Today, a soulmark can be temporarily removed in a number of ways—weekly injections, patches that look just like nicotine patches for discretion, and, the method preferred by professional actors, spies, mercenaries, and the like—a trans-dermal implant. All of these are commonly referred to as SMIs--Soul Mark Inhibitors.

It’s all very simple. Whatever method you use will deliver into your body a hormone blocker specifically targeted to the hormone/protein compound found to trigger soulmark manifestation. Not only will your souimark fade away after a few days as your body re-adjusts your melanin production, but should you encounter your soulmate while on the hormone blocker, they will not manifest a full soulmark, either.

Letting your soulmark reappear is as easy as stopping your drug treatment, either by having your implant removed or stopping injections.

Of course, even having nosoulmark is a risk. There’s a long and colorful history of black-market tattooers during the Cold War, giving deep-cover sleeper agents permanent tattoos in order to divert suspiscion.

Thanks to modern technology, it’s much easier to have a temporary “soulmark” through the use of topical skin dyes or mid-derm tattoos. These options all have the drawback of needing to be touched up relatively frequently, which may not be an option depending on your mission. It’s up to you and your handler to decide if suppressing your soulmark or letting it remain visible is the right move for you.

There are no known side effects of soulmark suppressors.

Soulmark Suppression and Safety: SHIELD Informational HandbookChapter 3, Subsection 2

…

Kate is sitting as far away from Clint as she can while still being in the same room.

It’s what they do.

Clarification: it’s what they do when he’s come back from an extended mission where he’s had to use those stupid soulmark suppressors.

Clint’s mark on her is getting stronger with every hour, more defined and more purple from her right knee to her hip. She can see her mark on him (right arm, open and fine-lined and different shades of purple and plum) clearing, too. They’ve got maybe two more hours before they can touch without Kate feeling like she’s going to pass out, which is annoying since all she wants is to give him a hug, he looks like he needs one.

He’d shown her the official SHIELD paperwork about SMIs once.

No known side effects, her ass.

The thing is, soulmarks aren’t a one-way street. Suppressing your soulmark affects your soulmate as well as you, which is, apparently, not something a bunch of trigger-happy government scientists ever bothered to think about in the late fifties. The soulmate who is taking the suppressants feels fine. Their soulmark fades, just like it’s supposed to. No side effects, as promised.

Their mate? Well, Kate can tell you from experience that their marks don’t fade—they go a sick pea-soup grey, fading around the edges, sometimes almost vanishing—until the corresponding soulmate goes off the suppressors, and then they regain clarity.

Clint’s one of three, for Kate—all three of her soulmates have, at varying points in time, been on mark suppressors. Sometimes, all at the same time. Those are usually the worst, if only because from her left arm, across her back to her right leg, she looks like she’s in the last stages of healing from falling out of a window, all yellow-grey-green like an almost-gone bruise.

She and Clint share their soulmates; they both have a mark that goes from their left elbows to shoulders, and then a second mark flowing from left scapula to right hip, though Clint’s left shoulder is colored in—Kate didn’t realize it at first, because the color is so soft, a silvery dove-grey with dark shimmers. Kate is pretty sure that’s either Bobbi Morse, or Natasha, but Clint hasn't said, and she hasn't asked.

Kate’s only met Clint out of her three, though, and they’re the first people (it would seem) to discover that if you’re on a SMI and you touch your soulmate, you can make them violently ill.

Banner and Stacey tried to explain it to them, once—something about the non-suppressed soulmate’s body still trying to initiate some sort of chemical reaction, but not receiving all of the pheremonal support it needs? Kate had sort of lost track because the two doctors had gotten all starry eyed about what that meant about soulmate biology, and that the theory about soulmates being able to recognize each other on a basic, biological level wasn’t so theoretical--Kate’s actually part of a case study now (actually, Kate is the reason the case study exists, so that’s whatever).

The upshot is, If Clint comes back from a mission where he’s been on mark suppressors, depending on how long the mission was, and how long he’s been off of them by the time he gets to see her—they don’t touch. They just sit on opposite sides of a room.

Usually they watch Pushing Daisies. Kate doesn’t think Clint much cares for the show, but Kate finds it surprisingly applicable for her life.

And actually, they’ve gotten some good ideas from it.

…

“Okay, why am I meeting your ex-husband?” Lance shoves his hands in his pockets and hunches his shoulders forward. Ostensibly, it’s to guard against the cool damp of the air, but Bobbi knows it’s for show, that he’s pouting.

“Because you’re both my soulmates and it’s polite. Also, he met another of his soulmates a while back, and this is the first chance I’m going to have to meet her. He thinks we might match. Which means we might all match.”

“Bob, I haven’t seen my soulmarks in a year and half. I barely remember what yours looks like, much less the other two.”

“Hunter, don’t be an asshole.”

“I can’t deny who I am inside, love.”

“How very Mulan of you—Clint!” Bobbi presses onto her toes, bracing on Lance and waving. “Over here!”

“Well, at least he’s not taller than you,” Lance grumbles before plastering on a smile and waving. Clint and the woman cross, and Bobbi notes both the obnoxiously purple shirt she’s wearing, as well as the noticeable lack of physical contact.

“You must be Clint,” Lance says, offering his hand.

“You must be Lance,” Clint takes the offered hand and squeezes. Hard.

They stare at each other, gripping each other’s hands for a minute.

“Well, as fascinating as this macho-macho man-off is,” the woman with Clint says, frowning and knocking her shoulder against his. “I’m Kate Bishop, by the way.”

Bobbi rolls her eyes and offers her hand to the woman, smiling as she says, “Bobbi. Bobbi Morse. So, can I take it you’re the other Hawkeye?”

Kate reaches to take Bobbi’s hand, then stops, pulling a face, wrinkling her nose in a way that looks a lot like someone trying to decide if they want to throw up. “Ugh. Um.” She pulls back, a hand on her stomach, looking decidedly green, and—oh, Clint.

The girl draws away farther, shaking her head a little, and Bobbi hisses, “Clint, did you get that girl pregnant?”

“What? No! I mean, I don’t think so? Kate?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” she waves her hand at them. “I’m just—“

And Lance tries to be a gentleman for once, reaches over to guide her to a bench, with a “Have a seat, sweetheart, you don’t look too well—“ and the minute his hand grips her elbow, she doubles over, head practically to her knees, shoving him away.

“Katie?” Clint’s at her side, but not touching her, what the hell is that even about? Bobbi shoves him out of the way, starts to haul her to the bench that Lance had been aiming for, only to get the exact same reaction and damn little Polly Pocket’s got some upper body strength, other Hawkeye for sure.

Kate’s collapsed to a sitting position on the slightly damp grass, head between her hands. “All of you? Ugh, fuck all of you. Fuck all of you and the spy-plane you came in on.”

“Would someone care to explain to me what the hell’s going on?” Lance unsurprisingly finds his voice first.

“Back up, like, six more inches, all of you,” Kate kicks her foot at them. “Ah, yeah, that’s better.” She takes a few deep breaths and Bobbi glares at Clint (what? He mouths at her. Do I need to put you in a headlock? she mouths back)

“So,” Kate looks a little less pale as she leans her head against the seat of the bench. “What do you guys have, anyway? The implant or the patch?”

”Pardon?” Lance says, just as Bobbi says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I hope you guys lie better than that in the field,” Kate rolls her eyes. “So. Patch or implant? Your soulmark inhibitors, guys, come on.”

“Really?” Clint looks at her with something like awe.

“Yes really, why else do you think I’m sitting on cold wet grass trying not to hurl? Though I’m sure the doctors will be interested to know that if both soulmates are on inhibitors, neither one of them experiences any negative effects?” she tilts her head towards Bobbi.

“Seriously,” Lance says. “What the hell?” He reaches for Kate, probably because she looks pretty miserable, and he’s actually just a big softie, but Kate holds up a warning hand.

“Seriously, dude, do you want me to ralph on you? Ask Clint, I’ve puked on him twice because he thinks he’s being nice when this happens.”

“It’s true,” Clint nods. “Trying to help will make it worse, and then she’s madder at you for longer.”

“Why do you say it like that? It makes me sound crazy. Nobody likes puking, Clint, of course I don’t like it when you do things that make me get sick.”

“Okay, I’m still confused,” Lance looks from Clint to Kate and back, and Bobbi’s glad he asked since it means she doesn’t have to.

“Soulmark inhibiting drug side-effect,” Kate says, shrugging.

“They don’t have any known side effects,” Bobbi shakes her head. “That’s the point.”

“They don’t have side effects on the person taking them,” Kate crosses her arms over her chest. “They do, however, have side effects on their soulmate. Proximity makes it worse.”

“Okay? So we’re—soulmates? But how can you tell we are if we’re on SMIs?” Lance has his hands firmly tucked under his arms, which is kind of cute, like he’s actively got to stop himself from helping Kate up or touching her.

“Because when you and Bobbi touched me I felt like I was going to throw up and that my head was going to pop off. It’s how I feel when Clint’s on ‘em—it’s not a feeling you mix up with others. I’m sorry, I never really caught your name?”

“Lance Hunter, sweetheart.”

“Lance,” she looks at him. “Bobbi,” she smiles up at all three of them, then frowns. “Well, I don’t see the point in standing up, since I’ll still be the shortest person in the group.”

“That’s exciting for me,” Lance grins at her, offering her his hands which Kate glares at until he pulls them back. “Now Bob has someone of a more ideal height to use as an arm rest.”

Clint looks over at Lance like he’s seeing the sun for the first time, pointing at him and going “Yes.”

“If anybody’s interested,” Kate braces her hands on her knees and stands up, “given all the information that’s come to light in the past year about SMIs, most organizations that require their use are doubling or tripling the amount of paid soulmate leave of absence they offer, since it takes time for the drug to detox out of your system, and you can’t really touch your soulmate before it’s gone.”

“I’m so glad I work for SHIELD now,” Lance grins.

..

It takes a month and a half for the drug to leave Bobbi’s system; almost three for Lance.

During that time they start a multiple-soulmate apparel company. They do a pretty good business in t-shirts and wedding invitations.