Suppliant

Carol lounges nonchalantly in the doorway of Yon-Rogg’s new quarters. It's been all of an hour since she led him to this small, sterile room on the Skrull base. Her own quarters are nearby but he's not sure exactly where; she took him straight to his room and then flitted away to discuss something else with Talos. He hasn't had much to do since she left. It's not like he had many possessions to unpack. He passed most of the time lying on the smallish bed, trying to meditate and will his headache away. 

But now, Carol is back, wearing an easy smile and bearing an armload of water bottles and pain tabs. 

“Those electromagnetic headaches are a real kick in the ass,” she says lightly. “But at least you didn't crashland on a planet face-first right after.”

“There's always next time,” he says with a small shrug.

She snorts but is swiftly serious again. “I've tried so hard not to miss you.” 

She says it simply. Her neutral tone gives nothing away. It’s like she’s setting words out like plates on a table, waiting to see what he will place on them. He briefly considers how he should respond. 

“But you did?” he asks. Her brows twitch at his words. “Miss me?” 

She rolls her eyes dramatically but nods once. He fights to keep the smile off his face as his stomach flips at the confirmation. She’d missed him. In spite of everything and apparently, in spite of herself. But she doesn’t seem very happy about it. Hmm. Well, unflinching honesty has gotten him this far, he thinks. 

“I missed you too," he murmurs. “Though, I think you already knew that.” 

She smirks and pushes off the door frame to move into the room. The door slides shut as she takes the spare seat at the standard issue table. She sets the things she’d brought with her in the center and slides a single pack of pain tabs toward the empty chair across from her. She watches him in a detached way as he sits and obediently takes the pills. 

“Do you know which part I was angriest about for the longest time?" she asks.

There's a million possible answers, each one equally justifiable, so he just waits. 

"That all of this -" she gestures between them "- was a lie, too. I assumed that you'd been ordered to groom me in order to keep me compliant and attached to the Kree. But," she breaks off. He studies her face, watching the hurt flicker just under the surface. 

"The lies hurt, but the fact that they came from you," she continues, "I thought you cared for me. I thought I was your favorite. That I was special to you. Realizing a thousand-thousand moments between us were just part of the act and were actually nothing…” She trails off again, blinking against the tears in her eyes. She shakes her head a little. “That I was nothing to you all along, that was the worst part.”

There’s a tiny sniffle as she finally breaks away from his gaze and looks down at her fingers twisting in her lap. Her words cut him like a million knives. He can't blame her for reaching this conclusion. If their positions were flipped, he'd have thought the same thing. 

"You were not nothing," he promises fervently. “It wasn’t like that. You saw the emotion panel during - ”

“I know.” She waves her hand dismissively. “It’s just… after.. And until today, really.. What else was I supposed to think?” She gives a half-hearted chuckle as she plucks the empty pill packet from the table, fiddling with it to avoid his eye. 

She needs to hear him say the exact words, he thinks. It takes every bit of his restraint to resist the urge to reach across and take her hand in his. Instead, he settles for bending his head forward until he’s in her line of sight again and catches her eye. 

“You were my favorite,” he tells her, voice low and ardent. “You were my best friend. My only true friend, really. The circumstances that brought us together were full of lies, but the affection I felt, that I still feel, that was true. I swear it. From the very beginning you…” he searches for the right word, “bewitched me.” 

A small dent appears between her eyebrows while the faintest ghost of a smile plays at the corners of her mouth. 

“Helping the SI cage you,” Yon continues, “lying to you, hurting you,” he swallows thickly against the fresh wave of guilt. “It is my deepest regret, Carol. You had every reason to kill me 4 years ago and you have every reason to kill me now. But, because of restraint I cannot begin to fathom, you didn't and you haven’t.”

Her gaze flicks between his eyes, searching again as she had earlier. Then, a sudden flare of her old mischief appears. 

“Yet.” She arches one eyebrow and smirks wickedly. He laughs.

“Yet.” He agrees, grinning back. 

She looks away and juts her chin at the water bottle, a silent instruction to drink. He does, downing half of it in one go.

“If that mission on Torfu hadn’t happened… Would you have ever told me?” 

He sighs deeply and slides the water bottle back and forth on the table between his hands as he thinks of how to word his answer. 

“It makes me feel better to think that yes, eventually, I would have. Probably.” 

“Probably?” She pulls a face. 

“I wanted to. Every day. There were so many times I nearly slipped.” 

“But the Supreme Intelligence forbade it.” 

He nods. “Plus,” he winces, "I was a coward.” 

She rolls her eyes again and shifts in her seat, changing the cross of her legs. “A little but it's not like you had a choice. It would probably have killed us both,” she sighs. 

“That’s true. I didn't want to lose you. Not just in death.” He pauses, suddenly unsure. “Would you have stayed on Hala? Once you’d known?” 

She tilts her head as she considers it. He’d wondered about this for some time. Of course, he hadn't known the details of her life. He wouldn't have been able to tell her about her friend and her little girl. Or about her parents or any family. But would the memories have come back on their own? Would she have gone to seek out answers for herself? 

 Knowing her? Probably, he concludes. 

“I guess it depends on what version of the story you’d have told me,” she murmurs. 

He nods. An uneasy beat passes between them. A million different ways the truth could have come to light flit through his mind. Somehow, the way it all played out is one of the most painful ways he can imagine. 

“You should hate me,” he says matter-of-factly. He doesn’t mean in a pitiful, self-flagellating way, but in a simple, objective way. 

She holds his gaze, unflinching but for the slight wrinkling of her nose. 

“I've tried,” she says. “Turns out, I’m not very good at it.” 

She chuckles and his stomach swoops again as he laughs with her. She looks down at her hands which are still fidgeting with the pill packet. She sighs softly and glances past his shoulder at the clock on the wall.

“You should rest.”

Yon nods once, knowing a dismissal when he hears it. 

“Thank you,” he says and gestures to the tabs and the water. Then he ducks his head a little in a slight gesture down at himself. She smirks, knowing he means, thanks for not killing me where I stood. Thank you for this second chance. 

She goes to leave but pauses at the door, as if she’s unable to stop herself. As if the next words tumble out against her will. 

“You really were proud of me,” she whispers. 

In the slanted light from the hallway, Yon sees the tears that she’s pretending aren’t there. 

“Absolutely, I am.”

He falls asleep thinking only of the radiant, watery smile she’d given him in answer.

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There’s still hours until dawn when he hears a soft knock on his door. Carol briskly steps inside when he opens it to find her on the threshold. He looks at her questioningly. 

“I can't sleep,” she tells him. 

He almost laughs. “So, you want to fight?” He wonders if there’s even a gym or similar space where they could spar on the base. There’s always outside, he supposes. 

But instead, Carol shakes her head and shifts her weight in a nervous way. 

Well, that’s a first, he thinks.

“Talk?” he tries again, brows furrowed. 

Again, she shakes her head. She bites her lip, suddenly a little timid. Well, he’s absolutely lost now.

“Can you hold me?” she asks, not quite shyly, but certainly not as fearless as she usually is.

The question surprises him to a huff of delighted laughter. This, he thinks, is much more preferable to kicking the shit out of each other. He turns, smiling broadly, and extends his arm in invitation for her to climb into his bed. 

“Come here,” Yon tells her as he slides in beside her, motioning for her to come closer. She absolutely melts, nearly going completely limp, as he tugs her into the circle of his arms and tucks her head under his chin as she rests it in the space under his collarbone. He basks in the delicious feeling of holding her in a way he’d only dreamt of. He smiles up at the ceiling as she hums contentedly while all of the tension in her muscles dissolves as she settles against him. His eyes drift closed, pleased and comfortable.

“This is not at all how I thought the day would end when I contacted you this morning,” he whispers into the darkness. 

“Me either,” Carol giggles. She softly nuzzles against his chest, pressing even closer to him. “I'm glad you're finally here.” 

He's pushing it, he knows, but it just feels so good to have her in his arms like this. He turns and presses a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, letting his lips linger for a moment against her hair. 

“So am I,” he murmurs. Moments later, they drift off, peaceful and whole. Entwined with her, it’s the best sleep he’s had in nearly ten years.