9548/Long Distance Goodnight

Long Distance Goodnight
Date of Scene:	09 January 2022
Location:	Grand Central Station and Cael and Sara's Quarters: The Triskelion
Synopsis:	In which Jon says the nicest thing anyone's said to Cael in her life.
Cast of Characters:	Jonathan Sims, Cael Becker

---

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon's sleeping in Grand Central, to be on call should there be an emergency. Popping out for an hour or so in the morning to help Cael get up is one thing, being gone all night quite another. And in truth, he probably wouldn't be going back every day were she a patient or even most of his friends. But the early days of a relationship are heady and fraught and there's that liminal desire to be in each other's presence as often as possible--and besides, she probably /wouldn't/ get out of bed just now if not for him.

    In the evening, though, he calls her. He's got a little room to himself with Martin, a couple of cots shoved together and piled with blankets, and he's there now ready to wind down at least. Martin's out 'checking on people' which is probably code for giving him some privacy to call his... his... what even are they, anyway? To call Cael, at least.

    He leans back, sitting against the wall at the head of the cot, against a pillow, and dials Cael's number with the phone pressed to his ear. She's still 'Falcon Jr.' in his phone book but he's giving serious thought to changing that. What to is the question.

Cael Becker has posed:
    It doesn't ring for long before Cael's voice comes through. "Jon?" she greets him simply. "How're you holding up?" she asks - no doubt stealing the question from his own lips. It's not much to go by - just a voice, digitized and sent bouncing off a satellite, but she sounds alright - her voice steady, even, and calm.
    At the moment, she was seated in the snow outside the Triskelion, Bear nowhere in sight as she tossed a jingly toy from Redfox to retrieve, and maul. It was quiet, and calm - and cold - but she was bundled up against the chill.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon chuckles, something tight in him relaxing at the sound of Cael's voice. "Doing alright. The Chief showed up and gave me a hell of a surprise, and it's... made my head spin a bit, if I'm being honest. But things have been quiet, thus far."

    He hesitates a moment, listening to that jingly sound in the background. "Where are you? Not inside, by the sound of it."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Spending a little time with Redfox," Cael explains - taking the jingly toy back from the milky-eyed fox as he trots back to her. She rubs her hand over the creatures head - a smile playing over her features. "You know. Getting some air before I try to turn in. That sort of thing." She tosses the toy in her hand - a little stuffed squirrel with a jingleball at its core, and then tosses it again, watching the fox move over the icy ground, seeming to have no trouble navigating his pen, despite his lack of vision.
    "Glad the Chief had time to see you. I went and reported on the battle earlier - since I figured you were probably neck deep in... everything else."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I was able to give her a report. I'll be making my proper official report on the situation tomorrow, now that I'm, ahh... officially in charge. As in... 'Field Commander.'" Jon lets his head thunk back on the wall.

    "She /promoted/ me, Cael. I'm a full Agent now, same rank as Martin, and for the purposes of /this/ operation I'm a Senior Agent. /And/ they're giving me a /medal/. Bloody /hell/."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "'Field Commander,' huh?" Cael repeats - a note of distinct satisfaction in her voice. More seriously she adds, "Congrats, Jon. You deserve it - all of it, for everything you're doing. For everything you have been doing. I'm happy for you." She tilts her head back to look up at the sky - the sky as it //ought// to be, twinkling through the icy cold air.
    "What did Martin have to say about your promotion?" she asks - perhaps a hint of teasing in her voice.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "He gave me grief for getting promoted so fast. Something about 'I had to /earn/ this rank, /Jon/.'" Jon rolls his eyes. "As if I /asked/ for the bloody promotion. And anyway, he'll get his soon enough, dealing with this Archive business. I've told him more than once, if he wants to climb the SHIELD ranks he needs to drop his cover and take on more field operations... but even now he just won't give it up."

    He sighs. "It's just... it /is/ strange. You've been with SHIELD longer than I have... it's been a couple of /months/. And here I am, leading an entire operation. Feels odd."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "It's fine, Jon," Cael answers easily. "I'm still new - and I'm young. Barely a rookie at the Bureau - and yet somehow I end up assigned to the Avengers, and getting tapped by SHIELD? Imagine the shit that caused me back in the FBI," she remarks in a dry voice.
    "But you earned it. You've been doing the hard work, and taking all the stress and heartache for it." She smirks. "I'm glad Martin's giving you a hard time, though."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I'm surprised you aren't." Jon frowns slowly and then sits up. "Cael... did you have something to do with this? And don't lie to me or I won't bring you any of Daniel's promotion cookies when I come over in the morning and they're /good/. Seriously, the man's an amazing cook, have you eaten anything he's made?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "What makes you think I have //anyting// to with this?" Cael counters - with a tone of patently feigned innocence. Her smirk somehow gets digitized, and bounced off a satellite - to be delivered right to Jon's ear.
    "I mean, I //may// have said something about the optics of a recruit giving orders to SHIELD agents..." she adds with a level of uncertainty that doesn't sound even remotely genuine. There's a brief pause than she adds, "Nah. All I remember talking about was the fight, and the ear protection. You got those, right?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Cael Becker," Jon says in tones of utmost stern disapproval, "I am /very/ tempted to deny you promotion cookies. But... I shall relent, because I can /hear/ that smirk from all the way over here and honestly I like the way you look when you're teasing me." Ha, retribution.

    "Working on the ear protection, yes. Part of my first bundle of requisition orders. It' seems prudent, given what we know about Fairchild and angels both."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Good. Because you probably don't want to know how disorienting it is to fight an entire battle only able to hear the sound of the ringing in your ears, and //the voice of a monster//." Cael shivers at that thought, and reaches out to pet Redfox when he returns with his toy, her hands running over his head, and scritching behind his ears.
    "The Chief wanted to know how- what could have possibly happened to Fairchild to- well, to make her like this. Apparently she and the Chief know each other."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "She believes, Cael," Jon says softly. "She /believes/. As strongly as I do, maybe moreso. She called to Michael and he smote demons. He came to her in a vision. He told her he has a plan--and she believes it's a plan for salvation."

    He hesitates, then says, even more softly, "You don't have to have magic powers to control someone's thoughts, Cael. All you have to do is take someone who's scared and confused and tell them /exactly/ what they want to hear. I don't know Fairchild well enough to know her background, what she's been through... but Troia doesn't seem to think she's under control. And think of all the people who flocked to the Cathedral, convinced this was the promised day of salvation? To them, /we're/ the bad guys."

    A pause. "...I remember the look on her face, when I was hitting her with that negative energy. She was /terrified/. I... I never realized what it might do to a /person/ if I hit them with it. I don't think I will, again."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "He doesn't need to be in her head, actively pulling her strings, to- to control her," Cael answers - the tension in her voice ratchetting up instantly. "Just- just that feeling that he- It makes you want to do anything to keep it. To earn his approval. To be worthy of- of that love."
    There's silence for a few moments, and Jon can hear her taking deep, slow breaths. The kind that you count out to calm yourself when you feel panic rising.
    "Sorry, my fault," she mutters. "Shouldn't have brought up something like that over the phone." Especially with no Bear around.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Cael..." Jon says gently, "Hey. It's okay. Let's not talk about it, okay?" Because he could point out that that's what abusers /do/, and cult leaders, they offer love and make you desperate to keep it. But talking about it's only going to upset her further, so he deftly changes the subject.

    "So what've you been up to, today? Anything terribly interesting? How's the Triskelion holding up with so many of us gone?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    There's a few more deep breaths before Cael answers, "Oh, you know. Had a pretty normal day, really - other than meeting with the Chief. Umm... Saw Caldwell. Worked out, went to the shooting range... Played with Bear. ...might have let Alis tinker with a partially disassembled quinjet. You know, normal stuff." There's only a brief pause before she adds, "Honestly, Jon, the day went a lot better than I expected. I've been okay."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon smiles so widely it can probably be heard on the other end of the line. "I thought you might be. You're stronger and more resilient than you give yourself credit for, you know. That's part of what..." He pauses. Swallows. "That's, umm. Part of what I love about you." His cheeks burning can probably be heard on the other end of the line too.

    "...Sooo, how's Bear, then? Good? Getting enough treats?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    There's a long silence on the line, as Cael can feel her heart thumping in her chest. Hearing those words was still powerful, even if they didn't fill her with the same uneasy fear as they had in the morning. When she does speak, though, it's words of quiet protest. "I don't feel strong - but I'm trying." She pets at the fox still sitting in front of her, grateful for his presence - a stand-in for Bear, and a welcome one.
    "Bear's good,t hough. You know him - nothing phases him at all, and I spoil him rotten. He earns it, though."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "He's a good boy," Jon asserts. "Umm... how's Caldwell? I mean, she has excellent credentials and a stellar record, but..." But he of all people is going to be /picky/ about who is treating his... a person he loves. "I mean... how do you get along with her? Getting a good rapport and all of that? Does she believe in magic?"

    A pause. "Of course, you don't have to tell me /anything/, that's confidential. Tell me to piss off if you like."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Fuck, Jon, you pretty much know everything already," Cael replies, rolling her eyes. That, at least, sounds more like the Cael he knows. "What exactly am I going to be bothering to keep from you?" She takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. "She believes what I've told her, or I wouldn't be seeing her. I mean, she's SHIELD. She knows shit gets weird. I still- fuck, I still have a hard time with the things I just //accept now that before, I never would have-" She lets out a sigh. It was still hard for her.
    "We get along alright. Not as well as I got along with you, but I guess we have a better grasp on that dynamic now, don't we?" she remarks in a dry tone. "She's been... patient with me. And she knows how to keep her fucking mouth shut, you know? She'll just let me sit in silence sometimes." Which may not always seem like the best use of a therapists time, but... sometimes Cael needs time to say the hard things.
    "So I think it's working out alright."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon's head thumps against the wall again. And again. And /again/. "Don't remind me, don't /remind/ me about our 'dynamic.' Wilson was right to call me out--I should lose my bloody license. Fuck. I'm so sorry, Cael, I..." What? Sorry he helped? Sorry he loves her?

    "Fuck," he repeats. "Well, I'm glad you get along. And I'm glad she's better than I am at letting you sit in silence. You need that, I think."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Jon... you didn't hurt me," Cael points out quietly. "And you've done me a lot of good. And neither of us... knew. You helped keep me sane that first week. Those daily calls... Who knows what would have happened otherwise, you know? I was in a bad place. I'm in a better place, and you're part of that. So don't be too hard on yourself - especially not now."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Yes, but... professional ethics exist for a /reason/, Cael. I..." Jon blows out a long breath. "I don't know. It just underscores the feeling I've been getting, that... I might need to close down my practice. I don't know... if I can..."

    He runs a hand through his hair and sits up. "I'm not a therapist anymore, really, you know? I'm /profiling/ Michael. I run around judging people and fighting monsters... I'm more of a supernatural cop than a therapist. And... that's what I /wanted/ to be in the first place. I wanted to work in the justice system, help criminals reform. I just... I was too soft for it. I cared too much." He sighs. "Still do, really. But it's different, now, being the Archivist."

Cael Becker has posed:
    There's a silence on the other hand as Cael considers her response. "You don't need to keep your practice open if you don't want to, Jon," she finally remarks. "But you also don't need to shut it down just because you feel guilty about us being idiots at... feelings," she says in a wry tone. "I honestly would probably still not realize that I- I mean, it was Alis that insisted I was falling for you. After I'd tried to comfort you, by kissing you on your forehead? I'd never done anything like that before. With //anyone//. ...ever. But- that's not the point," she adds lamely.
    "Shut your practice if that's what you really want to do, Jon. I mean, you're going to have to shutter it for now while we deal with all this shit, anyways. But after we're done saving all of reality... Well. You and Martin and Agnes should go to Thailand or something, and then you can come back and make that decision."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Ecuador," Jon says absently. "It was really lovely, and Quinto is the city in the world that's closest to the sun. Agnes would like it, I think. And Egypt, of course. She needs to see it--and I need to see it again, through the Archivist's eyes." He swallows. "Gran insisted I go there when I was young. She must have known I'd become Archivist if Sasha died without children. I wish..." He trails off. Silent for a moment.

    "I wouldn't be doing it just because of you," he says finally. "But almost everyone I might treat, now, is liable to be a friend. I... couldn't stop helping you, because the idea of abandoning you to your pain hurt me too much. But Wilson was right when he said I should've stepped back. SHIELD has other therapists. I can still help, do emergency work, do profiles. But I think..." He heaves a sigh. "I think I have to give that up, for this."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "And maybe you're right. Maybe you do - but like I said, Jon - this isn't the time to make that decision. I mean - tell me I'm wrong," Cael challenges him. No doubt he can imagine the stubborn, steely gaze she'd be fixing him with if they were in the same room. "Tell me you honestly believe you should be making big life decisions in the middle of //this shit//."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Maybe I should," Jon replies, just as stubbornly. "There's nothing like impending mortality to make one rearrange one's priorities. I'm going to /change/ in this, Cael, even if I somehow manage not to /die/. I'm already changing. If you'd told me two months ago that I'd be leading a SHIELD operation to defend Manhattan from an entire army of angels, I'd have laughed at you. If you'd told me that /four/ months ago I'd have been certain you were mad--not because of the angels, but because of /me/."

    He shakes his head, not that Cael can see it. "This isn't a... spur-of-the-moment thing anyway. I've been considering it since I became Archivist. 'Can I keep my practice? Can I /really/?' Once of the first things I did when I came back to New York was tell one of my former patients they /would/ have to be former because I'd be /working/ with them now. I've been on the way out anyway. Why linger, when it's become so bloody clear I can't /do/ this anymore?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    There's another silence from Cael's end - other than the faint jingling of a bell as Redfox tugs at his toy - until Cael tosses it for him, once more. When she does speak, it isn't for long. "Have you talked to Martin about this yet?" she asks simply.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Not yet, no," Jon says. "And... I should. And I will. I just..."

    He sits there, silent for a moment.

    Then, "Cael... it wasn't a mistake to help you. I don't mean that. Don't... don't think I mean that. I should have handled it... differently, but that's... not the point, really. I just..."

    He sighs. "If you were my last patient, it will have been worth it. Helping you, saving you... that's worth every penny I spent on my education. It really is."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I never thought for a moment you meant that, Jon," Cael answers - amusement coloring her tone. "I'm not as delicate as all //that//."
    She falls silent as he continues - and the ache she feels in her chest, the tears that spring to her eyes - it's the sort of ache that comes with healing. "Jon," she breathes quietly into the phone. "I love you." Because really, what else do you say after something like that?
    She wipes at her eyes with her free hand as she adds, "If you were here right now..." She trails off into silence, the only other thing heard is a shuddering breath, as she tries to wipe away more tears.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The tears Jon breaks into on the other end of the phone are quiet, because that's how he cries, usually. Silently, the sobs held in. But it's there in his voice when he replies, in a whisper, "I love you too."

    He laughs softly. "I'd very much like to give you a hug," he says. "Maybe a kiss. That'll have to wait for morning, though."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "That's the general idea, yeah," Cael agrees with a quiet laugh of her own.
    "I wish I could be there with you. I wish I could be more help right now. I- maybe I won't be out of things as long as I thought. Today went well. We'll see what tomorrow brings... One day at a time, yeah?
    "And you have Martin there with you. I'm- I'm counting on you to look after each other," she concludes.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "One day at a time," Jon agrees, sniffling a bit and wiping at his own eyes.

    "We'll be okay, Cael. We will. I... talking to Peggy helped /so/ much. It always does. I mean... look, maybe the /universe/ is ending, but what they went through, the SSR people? Peggy and Cap and Barnes? It was /brutal/. It was grinding. It was /all over/ the world. And they didn't have some neat 'over by Easter,' and they didn't have gods telling them how to win. But they did it. They persevered, and they built something great, in SHIELD. They saw so many people die, horrifically, and they made a better world out of that."

    He takes a long breath in. Lets it out. "If... if they can do that... then we can do this."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I guess that's one way of looking at it," Cael answers quietly, and thoughtfully. "I never really looked at it that way." She smiles wryly as she adds, "I mean, I never really much reflected back on stuff like the World Wars or anything like that. Though I guess I've run around with Cap 'n Barnes enough that I maybe should've." Still, given ho wlittle any of that applied to //her// life? To her experiences? It was no real wonder she'd paid them so little heed.
    "...there is something I want you to do for me, though, Jon. That thing you just said to me, a moment ago? ...text it to me. Or better yet, write it down and mail it to me, yeah? 'cuz I think that's something I really want to hold onto."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I'll bring it tomorrow," Jon promises. "Along with... hmm. What do you want for breakfast? Or should I surprise you again?" There's a lighter quality to his voice.

    Suddenly he laughs. "I should, ummm... you... hmm. I should ask how much you like, ahh... big gestures? I have impulses toward the... theatrical, in case you hadn't guessed. And I know you haven't /done/ this before, but surely you have /some/ idea of whether you'd like to get, I don't know, flowers."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Uhh... Flowers are nice I guess?" Cael answers - sounding a little surprised, and perhaps even baffled by the question. "I mean - I guess I don't really see the point in them," she admits. "But they're nice enough. Umm, right now, though, all I really want is that- what you said, because I don't think anyone's ever said anything even half as nice to me. And I just think it might be nice to... read sometimes, you know?" When she's feeling low.
    "And honestly - I'm not too picky about breakfast as long as it comes with with coffee. Pancakes, waffles, eggs, sausage, ham - whatever. I don't know that I've ever run into a breakfast food I didn't like."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon chuckles. "This is why I'm /asking/, Cael. There's no /point/ if you're just going to give me a funny look if I show up with flowers in the morning. But... hmmm. Noted." Oh, great. He has an /idea/ of some sort. This will surely end well.

    "I should think about sleeping," he says. He /is/ starting to sound drowsy. "Have to write that out for you and get up early and... lord. So much to do."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael's delaying - she knows that. She likes hearing his voice. ...and she dreads going to bed. She doubts she'll sleep well in the least.
    But neither of those are good enough excuses to keep Jon from his sleep, and she knows that.
    "You should," she agrees quietly. "I'll see you in the morning." She holds to her phone tightly, taking a deep breath in, and letting it out slowly before she adds, "Goodnight, Field Commander Sims. Sleep well."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Dammit, Becker," Jon mutters. "Don't rub it in my face like that. /Field Commander/. Whose bright idea was /that/?"

    A pause. "Oh. That's right. It was /yours/." Another pause, then, "Thank you. Really."

    He yawns, and sighs. "Mmm. G'night, Cael. Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "All I told her was that you shouldn't be a Recruit anymore. The rest I can't take any credit for - that was all Carter," Cael answers with a laugh. "But you deserve it."
    She stares down at the ground, phone still to her ear as she adds a quieter, "Goodnight, Jon."
    She disconnects the call, and stays where she is for a while, until the fox comes trotting back to her. After a few pets, she murmurs to the creature. "Sorry, Redfox. Guess I oughtta head to bed." She's fairly certain she'll spend of the night in restless, nightmare-filled sleep, and the other half staring at the ceiling in sleepless dread, but she has to at least try to get some sleep.
    Hands shoves in her pockets, she lefts Redfox's run locked up behind her, as she makes her way back to the Triskelion, and her temporary quarters.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon swipes at his phone to end the call and sits there staring at the entry for Cael in his phone book. There's something better than 'Falcon Jr.' for her, he's certain. She makes him think of birds, though, and fire, and for a moment he considers something like 'Phoenix,' the way she gets back up after being knocked down. But he can't make it work right. Not quite.

    Then he thinks about the little bits of color that peek out through her hair, the way he felt, so much when he first saw it, that it was /her/ in a way he couldn't define. Bright and brilliant, in-your-face. He smiles. He knows /just/ what to input.

    "Caetzal"

    That done, he closes down the phone app and opens up an audiobook. Like any good millenial, he's going to play some mindless game on his phone while he listens to an audiobook to wind down before sleep.