Chapter Text
Kilo stood on the porch of the cabin, steaming hot cup of cheap instant coffee in one hand, and the other hooked into the waistband of his loose sweatpants. The little home was clearly someone's fishing cabin, but had not been used in many years. From the pictures, documents, and letters strewn about the place, Kilo guessed that the owner was either in a nursing home, hospice, or dead. He prayed no middle-aged rich kids would bother to come claim it when their dear old father's will was finally read; it was making a nice little home for himself and November. It was situated deep in the woods, on top of a small hill with a sizable stream flowing below, filled with trout. The morning sun set the green canopy of leaves alight as they twinkled in the warm breeze.
Glancing behind him through the small living space, he could make out November's bare leg bent up out of the covers through the half open bedroom door. Kilo smiled, happy that his partner could finally sleep peacefully. In their months of motel-hopping on their hunt for the Soldier, November had been a chronically early-riser, no matter how late they had stayed up theorising, or following, or going over evidence. During their short imprisonment a the Avengers compound, Kilo had born witness to November's disturbed sleep first-hand, having to shake him awake from nightmares and watch him writhe and kick against some unseen threats. At the time, Kilo had thought it was the stress of being in captivity that caused his disturbance, but after the first few nights on the run, he knew better.
After miraculously surviving the explosion of the truck transporting them to prison, they had walked through the wilderness for twenty four hours straight to put as much distance between them and SWORD and HYDRA as possible. They'd eventually given in to exhaustion, fashioned a make-shift shelter, and collapsed into sleep underneath it. Kilo had hardly been surprised when hours later repetitive kicking at his leg awoke him, and he had turned to see November in the grips of another nightmare. Worried about the pained, half-muffled shouts alerting anyone nearby of their position, Kilo had clamped a hand over his partners mouth. He remembered the fear in November's eyes as they flew open, but unusually, as they focused on Kilo and their surroundings, the fear vanished and November relaxed in Kilo's grip.
"We got out," he'd stated hoarsely. Kilo had nodded with a small smile. Subconsciously, Kilo had know November was referring to their escape from HYDRA's employ, rather than their escape from the Avengers and SWORD. November had then tucked himself closer to Kilo and drifted off into a long, undisturbed sleep.
Since then, November had not had another nightmare that Kilo knew of (and he would know considering they were sharing a bedroom).
"Are you posing?" a sleepy voice asked.
Kilo, who had been distractedly gazing at the beauty beyond the porch again, turned to see a now fully-clothed November surveying him. Looking down at his shirtless self, one leg perched on a wooden chair, hand tugging down the waist of his pants suggestively, he smiled. He knew the expanse of muscles on his back must be tense and contoured by the sunshine, and that it must have been one of the first things November saw as he woke up.
"Only for you, princess," Kilo teased, winking at his partner as November came to stand beside him.
November scoffed, pulling the coffee mug out of Kilo's had taking a swig. "We need to start seriously preparing to leave," he said, ever the organised one.
"Ugh, I don't wanna," Kilo moaned, dropping into the chair he'd been leaning on and sulking. "I like it here. We can fish, we can hike, we're living the dream!"
"It's entirely too close to the prison, and we know HYDRA were around these parts only last week," November argued, referring to the agents that had been responsible for blowing up their prison transport truck. He pulled the other porch chair over so he was half looking at Kilo and half looking at the view. "I think our best bet is leaving the country."
Although they had never been told the location of the maximum security SWORD prison they were sentenced to, and not even the Avengers knew where it was located, it was clear by the maps of the local area they had found in the fishing cabin that they were still in the US, in a great expanse of nothingness in the mid-west.
"You're probably right," Kilo conceited. "I'll head to the little local town this afternoon, get some more food and track down the local crack-head, see if they know anywhere we can get fake passports."
"What local crack-head? You haven't even been to the town before, how do you know there'll be a crack-head?" November questioned.
Shaking his head at November's naivety, Kilo replied, "They're everywhere, man. That's a fact of life; everywhere you go there's crack-heads and cockroaches."
November laughed his full, erupting laugh that Kilo had grown to love. "Have you though about where we should go?" he asked.
Kilo considered for a moment. "One of those Caribbean islands, with sand and coconuts and tropical fish. We deserve a relaxing retirement, Nove."
"Do we?" November asked, suddenly solemn. He looked out at the trees, avoiding Kilo's eyes. "We're retiring from being terrorists."
"Don't tell me you're just now getting a conscience," Kilo groused, although this was a line of thinking that was plaguing him more and more recently. "The great November, HYDRA's finest agent, finally cracked."
"You were HYDRA's finest agent," November argued, finally looking at Kilo again with a small smile on his lips. "God, I was so nervous when we were put on this mission together."
Kilo laughed. "I had the ego, I had the kill count, but you had all the skill. I always admired you, Nove," he admitted softly. "And maybe we aren't good people. But they tried to imprison us and it didn't work, and no amount of guilt is going to make me turn myself in." He spoke with more conviction than he had.
November shuddered, glancing over his shoulder into the cabin, into the bedroom. Kilo wondered if he, too, was thinking about how he hadn't ever slept so well as he did next to his partner.
"Me neither," November finally agreed silently. "So, the Caribbean it is, then."
"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Kilo grinned. "Let's get drunk on rum! Oh, and we can learn to surf, I always wanted to do that. I hope the food is good, I-"
"Can I ask you something?" November interrupted. He was looking at Kilo like he was a puzzling piece of art, so Kilo agreed. "What's your name?"
Kilo felt his heart skip. It was forbidden at HYDRA to reveal your real name. When you join up, your whole identity is wiped and you're given a new name depending on the first letter of your previous name. In the division Kilo and November heralded from they usually used the NATO alphabet. There was such a high rate of turnover of agents that repeat names didn't really matter. Kilo had been teamed with many other Kilos in his career, but they were all long dead. It also served to confuse their enemies by having many agents named the same thing. Only the superior's were allowed to keep their names. Telling November his name would mean turning his back completely on HYDRA, which wasn't hard considering they'd already tried to kill them. But it would feel strange to use his real name again. It would signify the end of his career. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. And by telling November his name, it would mean trusting him completely. "Kaleb," he said, eventually.
November smiled wide and true. "That's a nice name." Kilo gestured for him to reciprocate and he sighed. "Nathaniel."
"Wow," Kilo mused. He felt like this was the start of something, like this was a different era to yesterday, and a bunch of tomorrows were unraveling before them. "I think it will take me a while to stop calling you November, Nove," he joked.
With another smile, November admitted, "Me too."
The two of them looked out upon the peaceful forest, content and safe, and most importantly together. And that's how they were going to be from now on. Not forgiven. Certainly not innocent. Not deserving. But together.
The end.