Chapter 1: 2x09, Supergirl Lives
Chapter Text
After returning from Maaldoria, med checks were required for everyone who had gone off-world—superhuman or not. Alex had cleared her own examination quickly, then settled in beside Kara, who was glaring daggers at Mon-El for revealing to the doctors that she’d been electrocuted by some sort of alien weapon, while she was put through as many tests as could be run with her bulletproof skin.
Though Alex wanted nothing more than to keep her sister in sight, once Kara (and Mon-El) had been cleared, the sisters split up; Kara went to check on the victims, while Alex did the same for her fellow DEO agents. The fact that Kara had Mon-El at her side only made Alex feel slightly better, so she quickly made her way to the other wing of the medbay, where her team was being examined.
Fortunately, most of the team was still in the vicinity, so Alex quickly conversed with each of them, doing a quick assessment of her own, before seeking out the department head, Dr. Amanda Kirby, for final confirmation.
She rapped gently on the door Dr. Kirby’s office, and opened it when she was told to do so.
“I assume you’re here for an update on your team?” Dr. Kirby said as soon as Alex had entered.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Fortunately, it’s good news. Alpha Team appears to have suffered no ill effects from their trip to Maaldoria. All their blood work and vitals are well within normal ranges, and they’ve been cleared to leave the facility at their leisure.”
Alex breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe her team when they insisted they were fine, but she knew they would say anything to speed up the post-mission evals, minimize paperwork, and get back to their normal lives. This time at least, it appeared all of them had been honest. “That is good news. Thank you, ma’am.”
“Except of course for Agent Schott.”
“What about Agent Schott?” Alex asked, her stomach clenching painfully in anticipation of what was surely horrible news. Of course, Winn, a civilian, had gotten into something when they’d—when she’d—left him alone on an alien planet...
“According to the computers, he passed every test we administered. The only problem is, I never saw him here.”
After Alex made sure Winn was alright, she was going to kill him.
“Going forward, we need a paper file for Agent Schott,” she stated. “Locked in a file cabinet with an old-fashioned key. No combination locks: I’ve seen him pick those.”
Dr. Kirby nodded, unfazed by the request. “I’ll see what I can do, Agent Danvers. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to file these reports.”
“Of course.”
After exiting Dr. Kirby’s office, Alex made her way to the first floor bullpen where she knew J’onn would be reviewing every result Dr. Kirby was filing while simultaneously coordinating efforts to get all of the victims returned to their homes.
“J’onn, I need to go,” Alex said without greeting. “But I will be back later to help with whatever you need.”
J’onn looked over at her and nodded. “Take care of Agent Schott.”
Alex didn’t bother asking how he’d known.
Winn was perched on the edge of the countertop in his bathroom, turned at the waist to examine the bruising that ran along his right side.
Until yesterday, he hadn’t been aware how many basic bodily functions required movement of his chest. The bones hurt, every breath burned, and he’d almost doubled over the first time he’d tried to pull on a T-shirt.
He started as he heard a knock on his door, hissed as that pulled on his side, and in his current state of exhaustion, almost banged his head into the mirror before he caught himself with his shoulder. He really hoped it was just his take-out, which he planned on shoveling in at a Kara-Danvers-esque rate then crashing. Hard. For at least eighteen hours. The DEO was just going to have to deal when he called in late tomorrow. After the day he'd had, he deserved at least that much.
Winn hadn’t slept much last night, jolting upright, soaked in sweat, as memories of staring down a gun barrel danced on the backs of his eyelids. If James had been just a second slower, Winn wasn’t sure he’d still be sitting here today.
Despite what was sure to be a repeat performance if he closed his eyes, Winn’s body was so desperate for rest that he was barely holding himself upright on the countertop. It took quite a bit of effort to lower himself to the ground without completely collapsing.
“Coming,” he called, yanking down the hem of his shirt and hissing as that motion too pulled at his bruised side.
On the way out of his bathroom, he stopped at his computer station to check who it was, and was surprised to find Alex on the other side of the door, a large silver suitcase in hand.
This could not be good.
If he revealed nothing and smiled his way through it, hopefully this encounter would be short and he could go to bed. Screw takeout. He wasn’t all that hungry anyway.
Winn forced on a smile, pushed his hair away from his face, and opened the door. “Hi, Alex,” he said cheerily. “What brings you to this—”
“You skipped your medical check." With that, she pushed her way into his apartment and kicked the door closed with her foot.
Damn it. Winn was banking on having at least another day before someone noticed.
“My test results say otherwise,” he said levelly, his smile never slipping from his face.
“Your fake test results. Dr. Kirby says she never saw you.”
Up until that point, Winn was pretty sure Dr. Kirby couldn’t have picked him out of a line-up if his life depended on it. It was both touching, but incredibly unfortunate giving the timing, that he was wrong.
Recovering quickly, Winn waved his hand at Alex. “I’m fine. Everyone else came back clean. I wasn’t exposed to anything they weren’t.”
“It’s protocol,” she insisted as she hoisted the suitcase onto the table and popped open the lid. “Now sit.”
“Alex… Alex, wait. Just wait.” Winn hurried over to the table, wincing as his side protested the quick motion, and waved his hands to distract her from her mission. “This really isn’t necessary. I’m fine. You’re fine. Nothing’s broken—” The rest of his protest died in his mouth as he saw her expression and belatedly realized that was the wrong thing to say.
“Why should something be broken?” Alex asked, her tone sharp as a razor wire.
Winn debated lying again, but that would most likely end up with Alex threatening him rather spectacularly with just her ring finger. The fastest course of action now was to downplay what had happened, enough to where he could get away without an examination.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Alex, but he hated doctors, hospitals and medbays in general. He’d seen, and been to, a lot of them after his dad had gone to prison (both psych and other), and more than a few times in grade and high school. Despite Winn’s best efforts, the winning combination of his father’s infamy, his own intellect, and his propensity to keep to himself, vainly trying to get through school without causing any incidents, had made him a target more than a few times. That that’d left him with both a deep-seeded desire to leave Newark at eighteen and never ever return, and a fairly decent grasp of basic medicine, which was how he knew his current set of injuries were painful but minor, and would heal on their own.
“The alien may have thrown me around a little bit before I knocked him out,” Winn replied, his tone as level as he could manage. “But I’m fine, really.”
“So you’ve said.” Alex pulled out the chair next to her and patted the seat. “Sit.”
“Alex,” Winn whined, drawing out the syllables of her name in a final plea to just get her to leave. He didn’t want to be examined and was fairly certain that if he sat, he wasn’t going to be getting up again, which was only going to bode worse for him when she inevitably noticed.
“Sit or I call J’onn.”
Damn her. “That’s low even for you, Danvers,” Winn scowled. Without another valid option though, he lowered himself into the chair.
After Alex took his blood and sent the portable machine spinning as it analyzed it, she turned her attention to his eye. “I don’t suppose you got this checked out yesterday?” she asked as she pulled on a set of latex gloves.
“No need. It’s not broken, and my vision is not impaired.”
He thought he might have offered too much information from the way she was now staring at him, so instead of shutting up and letting her form her own conclusions, he barreled forward, trying to make it better. “I’ve, uh, picked up a few things working with you all. It’s hard not to, given how banged up you all get on these missions of late.”
Alex still looked less than convinced. However, she did let the subject drop and tuned her attention back to Winn’s eye, which thankfully was far less swollen than it had been this morning. “A broken cheekbone is the least of my worries when it comes to eye injuries,” she said as she gently palpated from his cheek to his forehead. “I really should have dragged you to medical yesterday, but I was so distracted about Maggie staying—” She broke off in an instant and looked up at Winn, almost in a panic.
Winn quickly reached up and grabbed her hand, gently pulling it away from his face and clasping it between them. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, Alex. I’ve suspected for a while now. I’m really, really, really happy for you.”
Alex’s panicked expression morphed into one of shock. “You have?”
“Who do you think has to go over the phone bills you’re trying to expense?” Winn asked, before pointing at himself. “Seriously, though, four hour phone conversations are not normal. What even do you both talk about for that long?” He paused, then wrinkled his nose as he quickly added, “Actually, don’t tell me. I think I’d rather not know.”
“You’re not upset?” At this, Alex actually looked away, as if Winn could be anything but happy for her in this moment.
“Alex. Hey, look at me.” She did, somewhat reluctantly, looking as uncertain as Winn had ever seen her. “I could never be upset with you for being who you are.”
Alex nodded fast and repeatedly, her lips pressed tightly together and her eyes glinting with a hint of wetness. “I haven’t told anyone else,” she said softly. “Well, besides Kara and my mom, so can you…”
“Absotively posilutely. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you.” Without warning, Alex pulled Winn into a painfully tight hug, releasing him the second he yelped in pain. “What was that?”
So caught up in the moment, the truth slipped out before Winn could temper it. “Just some bruised ribs.”
In that second, any sign of their previous conversation and ensuing feelings were gone. Alex’s expression had snapped back to pure business. “Yesterday or today?”
The damage had already been done, so Winn preemptively winced as he responded, “Both?”
“Shirt up. Now.”
After Alex declared Winn's injuries superficial, his bloodwork normal, and had applied some sort of miracle salve to his bruises—which holy hell, he could pull in a full breath again and not feel like The Hulk was sitting on his chest—she packed up her suitcase, but didn’t leave.
Winn was fading even faster now, solely managing to keep himself upright by leveraging his elbow against the side of the table. And his takeout hadn’t arrived yet. Though, now that he thought about it, it was possible he’d never actually submitted the order. Not that he was that hungry anymore anyway. Sleep was his number one priority as soon as Alex left.
“Um, everything okay?” Winn asked, really hoping that answer was ‘yes’. He steeled himself though, just in case it wasn’t.
“I came here for another reason.” Alex took a deep breath then said, “I need to apologize.”
Winn blinked at her. “Huh?”
“For how I treated you at the clinic.”
That was so totally unexpected but Winn's brain refused to put the pieces together to understand why. “I don’t—I don’t get it.”
“I’m sorry for insisting you go with me to Slavers’ Moon. I know you’d programmed the tablet, but I was so worried about Kara that I literally couldn’t think about anything else, including how to get us home. So I made you come along. Then left you alone, after everything you’d told me.” She exhaled deeply then continued, “I shouldn’t have done that. I should have left Vasquez with you. But I was so worried about Kara, on another planet without her powers, I…” she trailed off with a shrug. “I’m sorry, Winn.”
Truth be told, it would have been nice to have had some backup on Maaldoria, given everything, but if Vasquez had been there, she would have just shot the alien, before Winn had had a chance to prove himself to, well, himself. “You were right though,” was all he said. “I needed to get back out there.” It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d seen Alex push for something she knew was right, and she had ended up being right. He couldn’t stay hidden in the van or behind a desk for forever. Not with how their cases were escalating of late.
“But not like that. Not without training, not without a weapon, and certainly not alone on an alien planet. You've always had my back, and I blew my chance to have yours.”
Upon seeing the pained expression on Alex's face, Winn learned forward and pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m okay. We’re okay. I knocked out an alien and didn't die in the process, nabbed some space dirt, and everyone got home in one piece. That's a win in my book.”
He felt Alex nod into his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him, this time much more gently.
“I’ll do better next time. I won’t go crazy. We’ll make sure you have some training—”
Winn pulled away in surprise. “What? No! No, no, no, no, no.” He’d heard stories of the DEO training regime and had seen how battered all the newbies, but especially Demos, had incurred during his first three months. “I take it all back. I’m perfectly happy in the van and/or behind my desk. I promise I won’t ever get out again. Ever! Just don’t put me through training.”
Alex either didn’t notice that he hadn’t said those things out loud before, or was too caught up in her new mission to care. With a deadly serious expression, she replied, “That is not negotiable. Here or with James, you need to be able to protect yourself. And really, you should have had to do it a long time ago.”
There was something in her expression that suggested arguing would be futile, and despite the pop of adrenaline her statement had given him, Winn didn’t have the energy to continue. “Fine. But I want it on the record that I’m doing it under duress.”
“As long as you can defend yourself, I really don’t care how you see it. We’ll start when your ribs heal. Four hours a day, five days a week.”
That sounded exhausting. “For how long?”
“Until you can beat me in a fight.”
“So for the next year, then.” He groaned. “Is it too late for me to go back to CatCo?”
Alex huffed out a laugh. “Are you going to be okay by yourself here tonight? I can stay if you need me to.”
Winn shook his head. “I have my security system and honestly, being back out there and taking out that alien did a lot for my fear. Besides, I’m just going to crash the second you leave, and at this rate, I won’t even have time to fixate on what might have happened.”
“You’ll call me though, if not?”
Winn looked up at her and nodded. “Always.”
Chapter 2: 2x14, Homecoming
Summary:
Spoilers for 2x14, Homecoming. There was only one way Winn could have gotten those bruises on his throat, and knowing who had inflicted them was killing Alex.
Notes:
I didn’t intend for More Than a Redshirt to be a multi-chapter fic, but there were so many scenes I wanted to see throughout seasons 2 and 3 that the plot bunnies refused to stop. This chapter is set during 2x14, Homecoming. It is marginally similar to the first one in the sense that Alex is once again checking on Winn, but really, the fault lies with the writers for giving us two angsty Alex-and-Winn episodes so close together. The next chapter will diverge from this pattern and focus on Winn and James, during 3x05 Damage, after Winn reminds James that he had a hand in building/augmenting Lex’s device.
Note: I reiterated a tiny bit of dialogue from the show in the first part of this chapter, because there wasn’t a great place to cut the first scene without it. I own nothing of it, not even the DVDs. So please don’t sue.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“How are they?” Alex demanded as she raced into the medbay, Kara and Mon-El not far behind her. Winn was sitting on the bed closest to the door having the back of his head examined while J’onn was lying, either resting or unconscious, on the other one. Winn didn’t look over when Alex entered, but when she reached out and grabbed his arm, he did turn his head slowly to make eye contact.
“How is he?” Alex asked Danielle, the tech who was currently holding a slightly spotted pad of gauze to the back of Winn’s head.
“He is right here,” Winn said with a wince. His right hand went to the back of his head, to hold the gauze in place while his left waved Danielle away. “And he is fine.”
Alex continued to look over Winn’s head, for the moment ignoring his assessment, until Danielle spoke up. “Agent Schott took a nasty hit to the back of the head and briefly lost consciousness, but he isn’t showing signs of a concussion.”
“That’s good to hear.” Alex tightened her grip on Winn’s arm in relief, then asked, “And how’s J’onn?” as she headed over to her boss’ bed and began reviewing his vitals. It was only out of the corner of her eye that she saw Danielle excuse herself from the room.
“He’ll be fine.” Winn winced again then gently said, “Look, Jeremiah got the jump on us. Down in the server room.”
Alex felt like she’d been punched in the gut. “He couldn’t have,” she breathed, before her brain raced to make sense of what she’d heard. It had to have been someone else: a double, an alien in disguise, a robot even. Not her father.
She looked back at J’onn, this time really seeing the angry, still oozing, cut on his cheek. “Even if my dad has turned, there is no way he could have overpowered J'onn.”
At that very moment, J’onn’s eyes flitted opened. “Yeah. That's what I would have thought,” he said in a voice more gravelly than usual.
“J’onn," Kara said with audible relief. "Thank Rao you're okay."
J’onn just rolled his head slightly so he could face Alex. “Jeremiah's arm, the one we thought had nerve damage, it's been enhanced. Cybernetically.”
“Like Hank Henshaw?” asked Kara.
Again, J’onn seemed to ignore the question as he looked up at Alex and shook his head. “Jeremiah isn't who he was. I'm sorry.”
“Not as sorry as Cadmus is gonna be.” Of that, Alex was absolutely sure.
The situation quickly devolved as they tracked Jeremiah to the woods and Alex was unable to pull the trigger when he was in her sights. Then, because she didn’t have enough to deal with already, her mom showed up at the DEO, disrupting Alex’s plan to check on Winn and J’onn. Given that her mother had come all this way though, Alex filled her in on what they knew about Jeremiah while dropping her off at a nearby hotel, before returning to the DEO, where she pulled herself together in the locker room while changing back into her uniform.
After checking in on J’onn and confirming he was suffering no lasting effects from his fight with Jeremiah, she wandered down to the server room where she found Winn sitting amidst a pile of parts, holding a laptop connected to the server racks by a long yellow cord with one hand while furiously typing with his other. From this angle, Alex was able to see Winn squinting at the screen, despite the fact his nose was only a few inches away. The gauze was gone from the back of his head, but a slim red line, almost perfectly centered on his skull, was still visible.
Alex lowered herself to the ground off to Winn’s side and slid a plastic clamshell containing a tuna fish sandwich and house-made chips over to him. Winn startled as the container came into contact with his leg and skidded to his left as far as the yellow cord would allow.
“Whoa there, tiger,” Alex said, holding her hands up to her shoulders to show she meant no harm. “It’s just me.”
Winn blinked at her in confusion for a moment, before recognition set in. “Jesus, Alex. You’re going to give me a heart attack if you keep that up,” he grumbled as he resituated himself in his original spot and rubbed at his upper left chest with the hand not holding the laptop.
“I didn’t mean to. I thought you heard me.”
Winn pointed to the ceiling, where the A/C unit was running at full blast, then to the servers which were humming happily. “Over all that? I’m human, not Kryptonian.”
“I’ll be louder next time,” Alex promised. Then she pulled a small bottle of Advil out of her pocket and slid it across the floor so that it crashed softly into the takeout container. “For your headache.”
“I already took four.” Winn put aside his laptop and dug hungrily into the sandwich. “My favorite,” he said around a very large mouthful of food. “Thanks!”
Alex hadn’t yet moved on from the fact Winn had downed four Advil, twice the recommended dosage. “Your headache is that bad, huh?” If that was true, he should be at home resting, not still trying to work on what Jeremiah had stolen from the mainframe… Not that Alex thought she’d have any luck actually getting him to leave. Not when Jeremiah was still out there.
Fortunately, Winn shook his head, but was unable to hide a wince as he did so. “I’ve had worse.”
“Myriad?”
Winn swallowed a massive mouthful of sandwich then said, “No. I, uh, was in a bad car accident when I was nine. On the way to Disneyland with my mom. Banged my head against the window. Couldn’t look at a screen for ten days, which was torture for a nerdy kid like me.” Winn paused for a brief second then added, “I never did get to go to Disneyland. You think Mon-El would like it? I could probably rope—”
Suddenly, Winn broke out into a coughing fit, which left him rubbing at his throat... which Alex just now realized was ringed in a rather distinct set of bruises.
God, Winn. If Jeremiah was able to knock out and seriously injure J’onn, a Green Martian, who knows what he could have done to Winn, who was, for all intents and purposes, a normal human.
Alex couldn’t let herself spiral on that now though. Later, yes, after she was sure Winn was situated, and she was back in the comfort and privacy of her apartment, but not now.
She rose to her feet and snagged Winn’s reusable water bottle from the nearby worktable. As she sat again, she started rubbing large circles on Winn’s back with one hand while holding out the water bottle with the other.
Winn took it with a shaky hand, popped the lid off, and pulled in a few short sips. When his chest stopped shuddering, he turned to Alex and gasped, “Thanks.”
“Was it your throat?” Alex asked, not entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.
Winn shook his head again. “Choked on the crust.” Then, as if sensing where this conversation was headed, he quickly added, “You’d think I’d have learned how to breathe and swallow separately by now. I am almost—”
“Can I see them?”
Winn reflexively shrugged down into the comfort of his hoodie, hiding his neck from view. “I’m fine, Alex. Really. They’re not that bad.”
“Please.”
Winn looked at her for a long moment, his expression almost pained, but then caved and pulled down his hoodie to reveal the bruises. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Alex felt her jaw clench as Winn barreled forward: “I shouldn’t have gone in there. Shoulda called you guys instead.”
“You did nothing wrong.” Alex ghosted her fingertips across Winn’s throat, unable to miss how he flinched when she did so. “It was his fault. Not yours.” The words were hard for her to admit, even though they were the truth. She felt tears working their way into her eyes, and forced them back. Not yet. Not until she was home, safe, and away from prying eyes.
Winn looked like he wanted to say something, but Alex cleared her throat first. “Did Danielle look at this?”
Winn nodded, his expression fracturing slightly. “They’re totally superficial, supposed to be healed in a few days. There’s nothing for anyone, especially you, to worry about.”
Alex very much doubted that was true, but she nodded all the same. “How much longer do you have down here?” she then asked, desperate to distract herself from the imminent breakdown looming overhead.
Winn shrugged, then returned to eating his sandwich more slowly, taking sips of water every few bites. “I’m restoring the backups of the drives that were damaged. We’re lucky he mainly shot out the monitors and not the server racks cos then we’d have been in some real trouble.” He looked at her and winced again. “Sorry.”
Alex waved off his concern. “Then what?”
“Well, when they’re all up and healthy, we can run a full scan and see what was accessed most recently.”
“How long will that take?”
“Uh, a few hours maybe? Depends on how long it takes to restore the drives.” He looked over at her then said, “But I can get Demos to do this if you need me to do something else.”
“No, but I don’t want you here all night alone either. You need some rest.”
“I’ll rest when this is all over,” Winn said, closing the plastic clamshell and holding up three crumby fingers in a Scout salute. “Hell, I might even go to Disneyland if J’onn will give me the time off.” He then paused, visibly considering it. “That’s not creepy, right? A single man going to Disneyland by himself?”
“No,” Alex said, laughing despite herself. “Not at all. I think you should go.”
“Maybe I will.” Without warning, Winn reached over and pulled Alex into a hug. “I’m sorry,” he said, head buried tightly into her shoulder.
It should have been fine. She should have been able to reach out and return the hug. She should have been able to keep it together for another hour. But somehow, Winn’s kindness was the straw that broke the dam holding back her tears. “I have to go,” she stated, pushing up from the floor as wetness danced behind her eyes and her nose began to run. “Please don’t stay here all night.”
“Alex,” Winn called as he struggled to his feet and tried to chase after her. But by the time he made it out of the doorway, she was long gone.
Notes:
I know this isn’t a happy note to end on, but given the seriousness of the episode, it would be wrong to force it here. It just felt like a missed opportunity for Alex and J’onn and/or Alex and Winn to really talk about what happened, instead of skipping straight to the 20th abduction in the next episode. But that’s what fic is for, right?
Also, head injuries are serious business. Someone should have been checking in on Winn that night, especially since he continues to rub at his head and neck for the rest of the episode. Hopefully, his fellow analysts caught on, but it would make more sense for Alex to, given that one, she’s a doctor, and two, she and Winn don't really have a scene together after the one in the medbay.
Finally, I’m forever bitter that when Maggie and Alex talk in the next episode, it’s not at all mentioned that Jeremiah hurt Winn too. It’s just two extra words. “He hurt J’onn and Winn.” I’m fine with him being a minor character (
no, I’m not, he needs more screen time), but you have to at least acknowledge what he does get, especially when it influences the major arc like this.Up next is 3x05, Damage, hopefully to be posted in the next few days. See you then!
Chapter 3: 3x05, Damage
Summary:
Chapter Three: 3x05, Damage. James forgot that Winn had a hand in modifying Lex's device during the Daxamite invasion.
Notes:
Up until the testing scene, it is not once mentioned that Winn had a hand in updating the Lex’s device. You know he would be feeling just as guilty about (potentially) causing the sickness of those children.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“I'm just saying that maybe this happened because of what she did.”
“You mean, what we did,” Winn corrected softly, from the far corner of the medbay.
James looked over at him. “What?”
“What we did. Lena, Lillian and I. If you recall, I had orders from J’onn to help them quote seed the atmosphere with lead.” As he spoke, Winn made a flourishing gesture with his left hand, which started at his chest and ended up high above his head. It was a testament to the amount of time they’d spent together that James could tell just how agitated Winn was from this gesture alone.
“Winn,” he began, quickly trying to backtrack, “that’s not what I m—”
“Isn’t it though? You’re saying it was our fault that these kids are sick. And the worst part is,” Winn swallowed hard as he looked anywhere but James’ hospital bed, “you may be right.”
James tried to push himself upright, intent on comforting his friend, but instead of welcoming it, Winn took a large step back and toward the door. “Don’t,” he warned in a low voice. “Don’t make this about me right now. I—we have work to do.”
That was true enough, but James needed to undo some of the damage he’d caused when he’d forgotten Winn had had a part in augmenting the device. He remained standing, but didn’t otherwise attempt to approach Winn, who was hovering in the doorway, clearly conflicted about whether to stay or leave.
“Winn, listen to me. We all know you didn’t intend for this to happen, but—”
“But nothing.” The confusion snapped off of Winn’s face in an instant, replaced by a look of cold indifference. “I’m gonna go test the device,” he stated as he turned and strode out of the room. “I’ll let you know what the results are.”
James immediately turned to Kara, who looked as hurt as he felt for involuntarily causing his friend pain. “That wasn’t what I meant,” he said softly. “That device was invented by Lex Luthor, and it was jerry-rigged to do something it was never intended to do.”
“I know.” Kara reached out and gently squeezed James’ uninjured shoulder. “But you know the two of them. They’ll blame themselves if it turns out the device is causing the kids to get sick.”
“Shouldn’t it be more than just kids though?” James asked. “If it were truly lead poisoning, more groups of people, especially the elderly, should be sick too.”
Kara nodded thoughtfully. “Can you run that down? I need to see what the results of Winn’s test are.”
James straightened up and nodded. “Go. I got this.”
Later that night, after being visited by Lena, James walked into the DEO, carrying a bottle of Brown Boar Scotch. Since Guardian wouldn’t be fighting for the next few weeks thanks to the bullet wound in his shoulder, James knew he’d find Winn at the DEO, hard at work. It was his way of blowing off the steam of the day.
Sure enough, Winn was still at his workstation, rolling back and forth between three adjacent monitors.
“What a day, huh?” James commented as he unceremoniously dropped into a chair beside Winn and held out the bottle of scotch.
“Yeah.” Winn didn’t so much look away from his current monitor.
“Can you stop for a minute?”
Winn shook his head then pulled himself hand over hand down the next workstation, where he continued typing furiously. “I’m a little busy here, running through my calculations from six months ago. Trying to, you know, figure out how we were off by ten percent. I have all the simulations running and rerunning,” he gestured at the monitors, “and Demos is checking my math—”
James slid forward in his own rolling chair, then reached out with his foot and wedged it behind the wheel of Winn’s, keeping Winn from going any further. “Hey, man. Slow down for a second.”
“I can’t.” Winn tried to dislodge the chair by bracing his hands against the edge of the workstation and pushing back, but James slid closer and slipped his other foot behind a second wheel, thus locking Winn in place.
“Because you were wrong?”
Winn tried again to free himself and when he was unsuccessful, he turned to James, scowling and angry. “Because I was wrong by ten percent. Three whole orders of magnitude. That’s a big deal. Hundreds of thousands of people could have been exposed.”
“But they weren’t.”
“This time.”
James reached out and clasped Winn’s shoulder with his good arm. “I know you remember everything you said and did that day. Walk me through it. Was there any place you could have done something differently to not be off by ten percent?”
The anger evaporated from Winn’s face as he sagged in his chair, scrubbed his hand over his eyes and shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “And that’s the problem. Everything we had on that day showed a 98.96% bond to Daxamite cells. It was repeatable and consistent on multiple sims. And now, I can’t get anything but 89.88%.” He shook his head. “I can’t explain it.”
“Your math all checks out,” Demos piped up from the other side of the bullpen. “Again.”
Winn dropped his head against the back of the seat and groaned. “See?” he said, throwing up his hands in exasperation.
“Okay, that’s enough of this. Can you shut it down, Demos?”
The other agent smiled widely. “Gladly.” In the next second, all three of the screens Winn had been using went dark.
Winn whirled around to face James, his expression darker and more serious than James had ever seen it. “Turn them back on.”
“No, man. This, what you’re doing, it isn’t healthy. Nothing you can do now is going to change what happened.”
“But I can keep it from happening again! What part of that don’t you understand?”
“You won’t let it happen again. You’ll be more careful. You’ll quadruple check instead of triple, I don’t know. But I know you, Winn. You’ll figure what went wrong and prevent against it in the future. But not tonight.”
“He’s right,” Demos interjected.
“Shut it, Demos,” Winn snapped, pointing over his shoulder in Demos’ direction, “or I’ll ruin your credit score.”
Demos held up his hands as if to say, he’s all yours, to James, then logged off his computer and left.
“C’mon, man,” James said, kicking at Winn's chair to draw his friend's attention back to him. “Have you had a break at all today?”
“No,” someone called from the other side of the bullpen, but before Winn could fire off another threat, James slid to the left, blocking the unwanted responder from view.
“Let’s start with that.” James unwedged his feet from Winn’s chair and rolled back to where his chair had originally been positioned. “All this will be here in the morning. Besides, I think we should be celebrating the fact that it wasn’t the device that made all those kids sick, and the fact that L-Corp is already synthesizing an antidote for the hydro-whatever exposure.”
“Hydromorphic carbon nitrate,” Winn corrected, almost automatically, before asking, “And it works?”
James nodded. “Beautifully. Now,” he jangled the bottle of scotch in his hand, “I need food and to start in on this. Not necessarily in that order.”
Winn looked at the bottle and nodded approvingly when the brand met his liking. "You drive a hard bargain, Olsen, but I accept." Winn leaned over and began digging through the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet hiding under his workstation. "I have some glasses in here somewhere."
He was interrupted by his phone ringing. “Hey, Kara, what’s going on?” Winn asked, pinning the phone under his ear while continued to dig through the drawer. A second later, he sat bolt upright, almost banging his head on the underside of the workstation as he did so. “We’re on our way.”
The, he turned to James, his expression heartbroken. “We have to go.” He pointed at the scotch. “Bring that. Alex’s going to need it more than I do.”
When James and Winn arrived at Kara’s apartment, bearing pizza, potstickers, scotch and a wide assortment of ice cream flavors, Kara and Alex were sitting on the couch watching Singin’ In The Rain. Alex was curled up into Kara's side, sniffling into a wadded Kleenex.
“I’m so sorry.” Winn dropped the bags on the counter, then himself onto the couch beside Alex and pulled her in close. “What can I do?”
Kara, who had been pulled along when Alex leaned into Winn’s hug, shifted her grip so she was now holding onto Winn, with Alex wedged tightly between them. As there was no extra room on the couch, James sat on the coffee table, spread out their haul, then reached out and squeezed Alex's outstretched hand.
“Stay,” Alex snuffled, flipping her hand over so she could take James’ in hers.
“Sure thing,” Winn said, starting to rub wide, slow circles on her back. It was somewhat difficult, given how his arm was pinned into the cushion, but he managed. “We’re not going anywhere.”
Notes:
I refuse to believe Winn and James didn't show up for Alex after learning about her breakup. In my headcanon, Kara decided to get an early start the next morning instead, which allowed for a night of musicals and wallowing with people who love and support Alex.
Up next, we have a non-angsty one! After seeing how badly J'onn and M'rynn's coffee run goes (3x07, Wake Up), Winn volunteers to take M'rynn out for potstickers (and maybe the best ice cream sandwiches in National City). See you then!
Chapter 4: 3x07, Wake Up
Summary:
Tag for 3x07, Wake Up. Winn takes M’yrnn to sample some of National City’s best food.
Notes:
Finally, a non-angsty episode tag! It just seemed that Winn, in all his enthusiasm, would have been a much better candidate to show National City to M’yrnn. And so, that’s what we have here. Hope you enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Winn was standing outside of J’onn’s office, the fingers of his right hand tapping nervously against his left forearm. He’d been summoned to J’onn’s office via Agent Vasquez, but was standing out in the hallway, unable to make himself knock. He was fairly sure he wasn’t getting fired, but with his family’s luck, nothing was off the table. Also, if it were something mundane, J’onn would have come to the command center and spoken to him there, instead of summoning him here...
There was only one way to find out.
Winn sucked in a deep breath but before he could knock on the door, J’onn called out, “No need to be nervous, Winn. You’re not getting fired.”
“I thought you weren’t allowed to read anyone’s mind at work,” Winn retorted, taking J’onn’s statement as permission to enter the office, and popping open the door.
“I didn’t have to. I’ve been watching you pace up and down the hallway for the last five minutes.” J’onn pointed to the small glass bricks artfully placed on either side of the doorway, designed to let more light into the windowless office.
Winn held up a hand to object, then closed his mouth when he realized he couldn’t. “What did you want to see me about, sir?”
“I’m trying to compile a list of places to take my father in National City.” J’onn looked up at Winn and added, “You may notice I don’t get out much besides Al’s, but I want to show him a good time.”
Winn exhaled loudly as he felt his pulse finally begin to slow back to normal speed. “That’s it, Papa Bear? You could have just pinged me. You didn’t have to officially summon me up here. I’m pretty sure everyone thinks I’m getting written up. Or fired. Or maybe killed.”
J’onn’s glance briefly shot up to the ceiling before he returned to the matter at hand. “So does that mean you’ll help?”
“Sure thing.” Winn dropped into a chair, grabbed a pen from the holder on J'onn's desk, and began scribbling down ideas on a notepad.
It was hard to miss J’onn’s growing apprehension as the list continued to grow. “You know,” Winn began, momentarily putting the pen down. “I wouldn’t mind taking your dad to some of these places…”
“I couldn’t ask that of you.”
It wasn’t a “no,” so Winn barreled forward before J’onn adopted a firmer stance.
“Sure you can. I haven’t been to most of these places in a while, and it’d be nice to go back. We can start today, actually. I was headed to Mr. Li’s for potstickers, and can take him with. Just, uh, don’t tell Kara I went without her.” Now that he’d finally gotten J’onn to start using the office calendar, Winn knew J’onn had a lunch conference with the President to discuss the Thomas Coville situation, and therefore would be unable to object. Besides, the cafeteria food at the DEO wasn’t that great. There was no need to subject M’yrnn to that for another meal.
Still, J’onn considered Winn’s offer for a long moment, which Winn spent tapping his foot anxiously under the cover of J’onn’s desk. Finally, J’onn nodded and said, “I’d appreciate that. Thank you, Winn.”
Winn clasped his hands together in a victory pose and grinned. “You got it, Papa Bear.”
“'Boss' is fine.”
Winn just made a clicking sound with his tongue as he strode out of J’onn’s office. He headed straight for the agent’s quarters on the third floor where he knew M’yrnn was staying until J’onn’s offer on their new, shared apartment closed.
He knocked on the reinforced metal door and was quickly rewarded with a, “Come in, Winn.”
“Not you too,” Winn mumbled as he walked into M’yrnn’s living space to find the Green Martian sitting crosslegged on the floor. “Hi, Mr. J. How are you doing?”
“Just fine, Winn. Thank you for asking.”
“Good, good. Glad to hear it.” Winn rubbed the back of his neck then got straight to the point. “So, I was headed out for potstickers and was wondering if you wanted to join me?”
“Pot… stickers?”
Oh. “You eat them, in this case for lunch. They’re like little dumplings filled with… well, with chicken, or pork, or beef, and vegetables. Basically, they’re amazing and everyone should experience them at least once.”
M’yrnn did not share Winn’s enthusiasm and continued to look at him in confusion. “What are these dumplings?”
This time, Winn pulled out his phone and quickly googled an image of a potsticker. “They’re really good,” he said, showing it to M’yrnn. “Especially at Mr. Li’s. I’d be happy to take you if you wanted to give them a try.”
M'yrnn stared at the phone screen for another moment before saying, “I believe we had these on Mars, except they were filled with,” M’yrnn then vocalized a word Winn wasn’t able to translate.
"Could be," Winn replied—technically not a lie, considering he had no idea what whatever M'yrnn had said was. "But there's only one way to find out. If you wanted to go, that is."
“I should check with J’onn.”
“He actually suggested it, once he heard I was going there.” Again, it wasn’t exactly the truth, but it was a small enough white lie that Winn was comfortable telling it. “It’s up to you though. You only have to come with if you want.”
M’yrnn nodded, then pulled himself to his feet and grabbed his long coat. “I would very much like to try these pork-stickers. Thank you, Winn.”
Close enough.
At Mr. Li’s, Winn directed M’yrnn to a table, ordered two glasses of water to start, then pointed out his favorite items on the menu when M’yrnn looked a little overwhelmed at all the choices.
“You can also get a sampler platter,” Winn indicated the special in the upper right corner, “which lets you try three different types of potstickers.”
“That sounds wonderful.” M’yrnn then gently placed the menu on the table and bellowed, “One sampler platter please!”
Winn sucked in a quick breath then mouthed his apologies at their waitress. “Mr. J, that’s not how we do things here. You have to wait for her to come back to the table before you can order.”
“Oh… I am sorry, Winn.”
“No need to apologize. I didn’t explain how this whole restaurant thing worked,” Winn was quick to reply. “But when she comes back, she is going to ask for your drink order. If you want something other than water, that is.”
“Water is fine.”
“I don’t mean to be contrary, Mr. J, but it’s really not. Have you ever had a soda? Usually a brown colored bubbly liquid? Tastes like heaven?”
M’yrnn just shook his head.
“We have more work to do than I expected,” Winn muttered, before saying at a more reasonable volume, “Not to worry, we’ll have you try one today.”
When the waitress, Jessica, came back around and they’d ordered, Winn spoke up again. “Did they have restaurants back on Mars?”
“The idea, yes. The execution,” M’yrnn shook his head. “We used to take turns going around to our friends’ houses when we were tired of cooking in our own. That was about the closest we would get to your ‘restaurants’.”
“That actually sounds really nice.”
“It was.”
Then M’yrnn’s expression darkened briefly, causing Winn to quickly change the subject. “I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to this, but, Mr. J, have you had ice cream?”
About an hour later, J’onn was filling out an endless amount of paperwork when there was a knock on the door. Since he hadn’t looked up quickly enough to place his visitor’s shoes in the glass bricks, J’onn quickly used his powers to identify his father standing in the hallway. He was holding a takeout container, and his aura was vibrating faster than usual.
J’onn quickly stood and opened the door for his father, quickly examining him for any explanation for the disturbance to his aura. When he found nothing, J’onn pushed his concern aside temporarily and asked, “How was lunch with Winn?”
“It was wonderful.” M’yrnn held out the container. “We brought you some of the potstickers. Winn said these were your favorite.”
“Thank you, Father.” J’onn walked back around his desk and sat down, pulling two takeout forks and a wad of napkins from a desk drawer. “You can have some if you’d like,” he offered, placing one of the forks on the far side of his desk before he began to tuck into the potstickers.
M’yrnn sat opposite J’onn and pushed the offered fork away. “That is okay, my son. Winn also took me for… what were they called? Iced sandwiches?”
That would explain the rapid oscillation of his father’s usually very stead aura, especially since Winn had most likely spared no expense and taken his father to the fancier ice cream parlor. The sandwich cookies there were large enough and ice cream itself packed high enough to fill up even Kara. Temporarily. “Ice cream sandwiches,” J’onn corrected with a grin.
M’yrnn smiled warmly. “Whatever they are called, they are wonderful. It is surprising you do not partake of their rich and numerous flavors every day.”
“I would weigh three hundred pounds if I did.”
“It might be worth it.”
“You’re not wrong.” After eating the last potsticker, J’onn threw the takeout container away before he started to wipe off his desk. “We could do that every day if you wanted, Father. Go new places and try new food.”
M’yrnn reached out and rested his hand on J’onn’s, stopping it mid-sweep. “Do not make promises you cannot keep, my son. Trips like these every day would consume far too much of your time. A few times a week however…” he trailed off with a smile and a knowing wink.
J’onn nodded. “That is a bargain I believe I can keep.”
“Good.” Then, M’yrnn stood. “I believe I am going to go lie down. That ice cream sandwich is affecting me in ways I did not anticipate.”
“It’s called a sugar rush, Father. It’ll die down soon.”
M’yrnn looked rather sad at J’onn’s declaration, but a brief second later, he shrugged. “We can always rush again later. I still have fifty-one more flavors to try.” He fumbled in his pocket then pulled out a small stamp card, which indeed had a single hole punch over the flavor ‘vanilla’. “If I punch all of them, I receive free ice cream for a year. Winn seemed most excited about this prospect.”
“We can definitely work through your punch card, Father. Just don’t lose it, or you’ll have to start over.”
M’yrnn looked back in mock indignation as he pocketed the card. “For something as important as ice cream, my son, I assure you I will keep close tabs on it.”
Notes:
Hope you enjoyed a fluffier chapter!
Up next, should be 3x14, Schott Through The Heart, but Family by BecauseWhateverAtAll already exists and it's so much better than anything I had planned to write. So go read that, then join me back for 3x15, In Search of Lost Time. Working summary is "Winn can't make himself forget how easy it was to stick a gun into Demos' ribs and almost pull the trigger." Seriously, that's everything he's been worried about since Season One (snapping and turning into his father), and it doesn't get a second mention? Not in my headcanon.
See you then!
Chapter 5: 3x11, Fort Rozz
Summary:
Spoilers for 3x11, Fort Rozz. Brainy realizes that he might have underestimated the intellect of the DEO analysts.
Notes:
We’re taking a little detour to 3x11 on the request of cyclone-rachel from Tumblr. Hope you enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Agent Schott, may I speak to you?”
Winn looked away from where Kara was talking to Psi and found Brainy standing behind him, steepling his fingers in front of his chest. Winn felt a flash of disdain, that had originated earlier when Brainy had spat on everything he’d worked so hard for here at the DEO, rise within in him, but instead of acting on it, he took a deep breath, channeled Kara, and replied, “Sure, what’s up?”
“I have researched your Voyagers,” Brainy replied, tapping his fingers together, “and based on their location, the surrounding debris, and the position of it relative to Earth and the Legion ship, I can say with absolute certainty that your plan had less than .02% chance of working.”
That was not where Winn was expecting the conversation to go, and after the extraordinarily stressful day he’d had, it was the straw that broke the metaphorical camel’s back. “You know what, Brainy? I’ve listened to you rag on the DEO all day, shut down everyone else’s suggestions because we aren’t twelfth-level intellects,” Winn said that bit with exaggerated finger quotes, “and storm around like you own the place, but I didn’t say a thing, because we had a job to do. But now that everyone is back, I would formally like to tell you to shove off. This,” he swung his hand around to refer to the command center, “is one of the most advanced processing systems on our planet, and with it, we do a lot of good. I’m sure in the future you have bigger and better things, and apparently more processing power in your espresso makers, but right now, this is what we have. And today, it saved three lives, so you can stop looking quite so insulted by it.”
He’d probably gone too far, but once the words started rushing out of him, he hadn’t been able to pull them back. Now, though, as the anger and frustration began to subside, Winn let out a sharp breath to collect himself. “Sorry,” he said to Brainy, who had yet to say a word, but even to Winn’s own ears, the apology fell flat. He looked around, shook his head then pointed at the door. “I’m just going to go.”
He wasn’t at all surprised when Brainy didn’t follow him.
“I believe I have made a mistake,” Brainy announced to Mon-El back on the Legion ship.
Mon-El looked up from the diagnostics he was running from a side console. “With Winn?”
“Yes. And the rest of the DEO agents.”
“You did come on a little strong.”
“Insulting was the word Winn used.”
“The DEO is a pretty amazing place,” Mon-El said as he put down his tablet and leaned against the console. “I’ve seen them do some amazing things here, with a fraction of the knowledge and processing power we have in the future.”
“I’ve reviewed their last one hundred cases and in more than half of them, the statistical likelihood of their plans working are marginal at best. Under 5%.”
“And yet, how successful were they?”
“Very. A statistical anomaly, in fact.”
“Well there’s your answer, then.”
Brainy felt himself scowl as he nodded. It made sense, but not in the mathematical certainty he was used to. This was a different kind of sense, playing into his human side, which was uncomfortable for him to acknowledge. “I believe I owe them an apology,” he ventured slowly. “And I believe I would need some help since they don’t have dionah in this time.”
Mon-El chuckled. “Pizza makes for an excellent apology—enough for the whole command center though, not just Winn.”
“And how many pizzas is that exactly?”
Instead of responding, Mon-El pulled out his phone and motioned for Brainy to step closer. “How about I just help you order.”
Forty minutes later, Brainy walked back into the DEO carrying a tall stack of pizzas. With some difficulty, he slid them on the central station, careful to not tip over the stack as he did so. Then he stepped back, pushed his hair out of his face, straightened up and clasped his hands together behind him.
“Attention,” he said loudly enough to be heard across the room, as well as up in the mezzanine. “I have an announcement to make.”
Most of the analysts had already started eyeing the stack of pizza, but now they unhappily shifted their gaze to Brainy.
“I might have been a bit harsh this morning—”
“All day,” someone muttered from behind him.
Without turning around, Brainy amended his statement. “All day, some might say, in regards to your abilities here. It is hard for me to fathom a level of success with equipment such as this, but your results, today and otherwise, speak for themselves.”
As he spoke, he looked in Winn’s general direction. The DEO agent was still typing slowly at his keyboard, visibly listening but trying very hard to pretend not to be.
“And for that, I am…” Brainy took a breath and forced the words out, “sorry. I’m told that pizza assists with apologies, so I have hopefully ordered enough for all of you. It seems like a good deal more than you all should be able to consume, but I was assured that this would be the right amount.”
His peace said, Brainy waited for a reaction, specifically from Winn, who had now spun around in his chair and was sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, staring levelly back at Brainy.
After a moment, Winn exhaled loudly. “Fine. I accept.” Then he looked at the rest of the command center, realized they weren’t eating, and waved his hands at the pizza tower. “I don’t know why you’re all waiting for me. It’s free food. Knock yourselves out.”
The analysts were on their feet in a moment, tearing into the pizza at a rate Brainy couldn’t fathom.
“Don’t they feed you all in this time?” he asked incredulously as box after box of the pizza disappeared. At the rate they were going, Mon-El would be correct about the size of the order, if not having underestimated slightly.
“It is the end of a very long week,” Winn said as he walked over and stole three pieces off of Vasquez’s plate. She hissed at him, half-playfully, half-not, but didn’t retaliate. Instead, she grabbed three more from another pie before Johnson ran away with what was left of the box.
“I owe a specific apology to you,” Brainy said, grabbing Winn’s arm before he could head back to his seat. “For not enlisting your help earlier.”
Winn shrugged. “We got the job done. That’s all that matters to me.” He made it about halfway back to his workstation before his shoulders slumped and he turned around to once again face Brainy. “But, if you wanted to learn more about space history, I supposed I could find some time.”
Even at this distance, Brainy was able to see the spark of enthusiasm in Winn’s expression that he was trying to valiantly to hide. “I would like that very much.”
Winn smiled warmly. “Thank you for the pizza,” he said as he held up his plate.
“You are most welcome.”
Notes:
This scene ties in nicely with the conversation between Kara and Mary in Schott Through The Heart, specifically this line: “He's always the one with some crazy idea that no one else would possibly dream of.” Brainy will soon learn Winn is the exception, not the rule, and maybe even come to appreciate the work of the entire DEO, even with their limited processing power.
Up next, 3x15, In Search Of Lost Time! See you then!
Chapter 6: 3x15, In Search Of Lost Time
Summary:
Tag for 3x15, In Search Of Lost Time. They find Winn at a bar, trying to drink away the memory of sticking a gun in Demos' chest and tightening his finger on the trigger.
Notes:
Winn is being a little overly dramatic here, but he’s drunk, and just had what arguably could be considered one of the worst days of his life, so let’s cut him a little bit of slack.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You egotistical little son of a serial killer.
Winn tipped his head back and downed what was left of the scotch he was nursing. As he lowered the tumbler, he tapped twice on the bar to signal he wanted another. Sarah, the bartender from a planet Winn hadn’t yet found on the DEO’s maps, poured him another double before heading off to tend to her other guests.
Today had been the literal embodiment of Winn’s worst nightmare. For years, he’d worried that one day he was going to snap and turn into a homicidal maniac like his father, that he’d go from being totally normal to crazy in just one night. But then, he’d found out that his dad hadn’t been normal. That he’d been abusive and controlling and mean Winn’s whole life. That Mary had been trying to take them to a domestic abuse shelter, and that his father had actually run them off the road. He’d caused Winn’s concussion and his mother leaving and his less than stellar stays in the foster care system.
Yet learning all that somehow was chipping away at the enormous weight on Winn’s shoulders. His father had been a horrible person long before he murdered six people, and Winn had worked extremely hard every day to his father’s polar opposite: to be a good man, a hard worker, a supportive friend, and to generally be above reproach of the stain his father put on their family name. In the days since his father’s funeral, Winn found his fear that he was going to lose his mind and one day turn into a killer diminishing—fractionally. He had no build-up, no signs, no fits of rage. Knowing the truth about his father now, it was unlikely, and statistically almost impossible, that that would happen to him.
But then today had happened, and Winn stuck a gun into Demos’ chest with the intent of pulling the trigger. He’d been so close—had felt his finger tightening. There had been a part of him deep down that was screaming that this was wrong, but it was lost in a wave of rage so powerful, Winn’s head was still aching. He was lucky Demos was a trained agent and had been able to disarm him before he’d fired off a shot; otherwise, he wasn’t sure… well, maybe it was best to not head too far down that path tonight. He wasn’t sure he could handle the implications.
Winn took a long pull of the scotch, then swapped the tumbler for the rag-full of ice Sarah had fetched for him when she’d seen him rolling out the shoulder Alex had wrenched while throwing him to the ground. He pressed the makeshift ice pack against his shoulder as his thoughts continued to wander.
After everything he’d heard from his friends the last few years—how he and his father were worlds apart, what a good person he was, how he’d forged an incredible life for himself—all it had taken was one psychic anomaly for none of that to matter. The distance he’d tried to put between himself and his father was gone in an instant, leaving Winn powerless to do anything but watch as his body acted on murderous instinct.
All the good he’d tried to do in the world would have been forgotten if Demos had been a second slower, or if Alex hadn’t showed up when she did.
That thought was churning Winn’s stomach. Or maybe it was the copious amounts of alcohol in his system and the lack of real food.
“Winn?” a soft voice asked. “Are you alright?”
Winn blinked a few times to focus on Sarah staring at him in concern from the other side of the bar.
Yes, of course, was the answer on his tongue, but what came out instead was a small, “No.”
Sarah’s expression fractured and she reached out to rest her hand on Winn’s, squeezing gently. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Winn dislodged her grip then picked up the tumbler, brought it to his lips, and winced as the motion tugged on his sore shoulder. “I honestly would rather just forget about the whole thing.”
“Okay.” Sarah’s expression was tinged in sadness, a sadness Winn’s troubles had put there, but she just nodded and left him alone.
He pulled in a shaky breath through clenched teeth, trying to ground himself. He wasn’t sure where to go from here. The rest of the analysts, almost the rest of the DEO, had seen him practically snap—and that was before everyone had been affected later on. They’d seen him stick a gun in Demos’ chest and almost pull the trigger.
Winn had no idea if they’d want to work with him again, now knowing just how quick to rage he could be.
“That’s not true.”
It was harder this time, but Winn managed to pull himself out of his haze to find Sarah once again standing in front of him.
“Wha’z not?” he slurred. And damn, he was really drunk. Just how long had he been sitting here since she’d been over last?
“You being quick to rage. You’re one of the most levelheaded people I know.” Then she winced and shrugged lopsidedly. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but you were talking very loudly.”
Oh God. As if his day hadn’t been bad enough already.
Winn let his head thunk down to the bar. “Can you call me a cab?” was what he meant to say, but what came out was an entirely different combination of syllables.
Sarah seemed to understand anyway, though, for she said, “I already called your friends.”
Winn’s head shot up from the bar. “No! No, no, no, no, no.” He reached out for her side of the bar, trying desperately to grab her hand. “Not’y friend. Justa cab.”
“It’s too late.” She pointed over his shoulder and Winn whirled around on the barstool, having to grab onto the edge of the bar to stay upright.
Sure enough, Kara, Mon-El, Alex and Demos were standing in the doorway, wearing their street clothes and staring sadly at him.
In the next second, Winn felt anger rising in him. He didn’t need their pity. Not tonight, not ever.
“It’s not pity,” Alex said as she approached.
Dammit, he really needed to stop saying stuff like that out loud.
“It’s family,” she continued as she pulled him into a hug. Winn wanted to resist, wanted to stay mad until they’d sorted out this pity situation, but his body was reacting without his brain’s advice and was leaning into Alex’s embrace. “And showing up.”
Winn sagged against her fully now, all the fight gone from his body. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into her side. “So sorry.”
“There’s a lot of that going around,” Kara said, coming up on Winn’s other side and wrapping her arm around the part of his shoulder that hadn’t made it into Alex’s embrace.
“Bringing up your dad was low,” Demos spoke up, hovering awkwardly a few steps away. “If I could take it back, I would.”
“Twas almost true,” Winn mumbled, then winced as Kara swatted his shoulder.
“You don’t get to talk that way about yourself,” she said firmly. “Drunk or not. Especially not after today.”
“C’mon, man,” Mon-El said, holding out his hand. “Let’s get you home.”
Winn’s brain couldn’t understand what was happening. “How do you all wanna be ‘round me?” he slurred, hoping they’d understand. “After what I almost did?”
“That wasn’t you,” Alex replied, shifting her grip on him so she and Kara could lift him to his feet. “Besides, we all did things we weren’t proud of today.”
The silence that followed spoke volumes, and somehow that resonated with Winn more than anything else his friends had said up until that point. He nodded sadly, seeing the truth in everyone’s expression, and leaned more deeply into Alex and Kara's hold.
"Can we go home now?" Alex asked again, pulling him in a little closer.
Winn nodded, then allowed himself to be helped out of the bar by his friends, who despite everything, had shown up. For him.
Notes:
Up next, 3x16, Of Two Minds.
See you then!
Chapter 7: 3x16, Of Two Minds
Summary:
Missing scenes for 3x16, Of Two Minds. Winn doesn't bounce back from being infected by Pestilence quite as quickly as the episode made us believe. If I did this correctly, everything you saw in the episode canon should still hold. I just added the missing scenes about his and Alex's recovery.
Notes:
Note 1: Here are the symptoms of Pestilence, as detailed by the episode: high fever, struggles breathing, weakness, eventual organ failure. It’s also painful enough that Alex starts Winn on some heavy-duty analgesics. Yet Winn, who was sick for the entire episode, is fine at the end? I’m not buying it. Also, Kara, a superhero/alien, who was infected for .2 seconds, admits the sickness made her feel weak; imagine then how it impacted our poor humans.
Note 2: In 3x17, Lena said she’s been working with/on Sam for three weeks, which they started in 3x13. That means, in a span of three weeks, Winn has lost his father, reunited with his mother, almost killed Demos under M’yrnn’s spell, and now almost dies. The poor guy needs a break.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In all his years on this planet, Winn could safely say he’d never felt worse than he had at that very moment. His head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, and every single thought sent a bolt of pain lancing through his eye sockets. Either something very heavy was sitting on his chest or he was wearing some sort of iron armor, because his ribs and lungs burned with every shallow breath he was taking. And the rest of his body… at this point, getting rid of it and just starting over seemed like a better idea.
He heard someone talking, but it was muffled, like they were in a fog, or very, very far away. He concentrated hard, almost groaning with the effort, but was able to hear two very familiar voices talking—familiar was as far as he got though. It would take far too much energy to actually identify them.
“…leads on any of the Worldkillers?”
The who?
“No. We’re scanning…results yet.”
Scanning?
“Keep at it… find before… damage.”
Winn had no idea what was happening, but amidst the haze, he was certain they needed him to do… whatever they needed him to do. Which meant he needed to clear his head and get up and help.
He took as deep a steeling breath as his aching chest would allow, then lifted his head off the bed. His body protested the motion with such a vengeance that Winn almost cried out.
Or maybe he did, based on the muted shuffling sounds that quickly approached.
Then, someone was standing over his bed. “Winn? You with us, brother?”
Winn forced open one thousand-pound eyelid to see a familiar face above his.
James.
“Hey,” Winn croaked out.
“Hey yourself.” James reached out and grabbed Winn’s hand in both of his own, mindful of the cord trailing from his index finger. “How are you feeling?”
Winn considered it for a second. “I’ve been better.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” James replied around a relieved chuckle. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”
If this was ‘okay’, the bar must be set pretty dang low.
“How long was—” Winn was cut off by a cough ripping its way up his throat. He folded in half, limbs twitching wildly, as it turned into a fit. He pressed a hand against his chest, begging for it to stop, while his vision darkened around the edges and his ribs felt a second away from cracking.
“Hey, hey! Winn, stay with me. Stay with me!”
Winn was trying but holy hell. It was like his lungs were trying to exorcise themselves from his body.
Then, there was a purple straw being stuck in his face and Winn sipped at it desperately. He was pretty sure he ended up spraying most of the cool water over the bed, but it did seem to help him stop coughing.
Spent, he sagged back against the tower of pillows, struggling to bring air back into his lungs.
James’ face appeared in his tunnel vision, and suddenly Winn felt his hand being pressed against something solid and warm. “Breathe with me, okay? In and out.” Winn felt his hand moving up and down as James spoke.
Then, James’ face disappeared and Winn’s hand dropped down to the bed and someone was lifting his head and sliding something on his face and he could breathe again.
He sucked greedily at the oxygen flowing into his mouth, which almost set off another coughing fit. It took everything that he had left, but he swallowed it down; he was not up for a repeat performance, thank you very much.
The spots in his vision eventually cleared and Winn felt his chest slide back into rising and falling at its normal rhythm. He blinked hard and found James once again leaning over his bed, looking more afraid than Winn had ever seen him.
“Don’t you ever do that again,” James said raggedly as he dragged his hand along the back of his head. “Ever. I mean it.”
“Sorry,” Winn gasped out.
Then he saw a flash of red and J’onn phased into the space next to James.
“I heard the code,” he stated. “How are they?”
They who?
“Despite the most recent incident, it looks like Agent Schott is responding well to the cure,” a female voice outside of Winn’s peripheral vision said. He was too tired to turn his head to find out who it was.
“And the most recent incident?”
There was a lot of medical-ese thrown around, which Winn wasn’t able to understand. He tuned back in when the woman’s words starting making sense again. “He seems to be breathing much better with the oxygen mask. We’ll keep a close eye on him for the next few hours as the steroids kick in.”
“And Agent Danvers?”
Alex?
“What happened to Alex?” Winn demanded, struggling to lift his head from the pillow, but James’ hand pressed against his shoulder, keeping him flat.
“Alex was infected as well,” James explained, “but they got her the cure and now we’re just waiting for her to wake up.” James then pointed with his free hand off to Winn’s right. “Slowly,” he cautioned.
Winn did as he was told and very slowly rolled his head to the right to see Alex lying on the bed next to him, propped up against an equally massive amount of pillows. She had a matching IV in her arm but was breathing regularly without an oxygen mask or cannula.
“We expect her to make a full recovery as well,” the female voice said.
Winn watched Alex take another few breaths before he slowly rolled his aching head back to center.
“Did we get her?” he then asked, looking at the space between James and J’onn. “Pestilence?”
They both shook their heads. “Not yet,” said J’onn. “But we will.”
Which only reinforced the fact that they needed him.
Time to rejoin the land of the living.
“I want to help,” Winn stated, slowly sliding backward until his lower back rested against the pillows. This way, he was (mostly) sitting up, but his body hadn’t revolted in the process. In fact, it ached slightly less at the change in position, and unlike earlier, Winn didn’t feel the least bit lightheaded.
“Absolutely not,” J’onn replied. “Brainy and the rest of the analysts have it well in hand.” He reached out and clasped Winn’s knee through the blankets. “All you need to do is focus on getting better.”
“But the Worldkillers,” Winn protested.
J’onn’s hand tightened gently around Winn’s knee. “The rest of the team will figure it out. You just rest.” Then J’onn turned to his right. “Let me know if there are any changes?”
“Yes, sir,” the female voice said, before J’onn phased out of the room.
The second he was gone, Winn shifted his entire body so he was looking at James. “How long has it been?”
“A few hours since Kara, Mon-El and Imra brought back Pestilence’s DNA and Brainy manufactured the new cure.”
“And we don’t have anything yet?!” Winn shook the pulse ox off his hand and then used the same one to pull the oxygen mask away from his mouth.
“Hey! Stop that!” As he spoke, James’ hand landed firmly on Winn’s, keeping him from removing the oxygen mask entirely.
Winn struggled to dislodge James’ grip but failed miserably. “The longer we wait, the further away they’ll get. We have to find them now!” His chest was heaving again, but he didn’t feel like another coughing fit was imminent, so he persisted.
“Do you not remember nearly passing out from a lack of oxygen?” James demanded. “You’re sick, Winn. You can’t be out there.”
“The steroids are helping, aren’t they?” With great effort, Winn turned to face the female voice, whom he now recognized as Doctor Amanda Kirby.
“They appear to be,” she said. “But we won’t know for sure until the IV is done.”
Winn nodded triumphantly, winced when that quick motion rattled his brain, then looked back at James. “I’ll stay until the IV is done, but then I want out.”
“No! And Dr. Kirby agrees.”
“I most certainly do.”
“Let me rephrase,” Winn said, forcing every ounce of energy he had left into his words. “I am leaving when the IV is done. Are you two going to help me or not?”
James looked at Winn for a long moment, then exhaled loudly and let his head fall against his chest. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
If he’d had more energy, Winn would have thrown on his most winning smile, teeth and all. Today though, he settled for lifting the corners of his mouth slightly and hoping it would suffice. “I learned from the best.”
James muttered something incomprehensible—and probably not very flattering—under his breath then turned away from Winn. “Doctor?”
“I strongly advise against it,” Dr. Kirby said after a beat, her gaze alternating between the two of them, “but if Agent Schott is going to leave regardless, I’d rather take out his IV so he doesn’t blow a vein trying to do it on his own.” She then turned her full attention to James. “He should be under supervision for the next few hours. I’ll release him if you promise to stay with him and bring him back if his condition worsens.”
Winn looked hopefully at James, who nodded somewhat unhappily. “I promise.”
His enthusiasm was mirrored by Dr. Kirby who made some final notes on her tablet then slipped it into the holder beside Winn’s bed. “Call me when his IV is done,” she said as she left the medbay.
James sank into the chair next to Winn and dropped his head into his hands. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t feel nearly as shitty as I did when I woke up,” Winn said tentatively.
James looked up at Winn, exhaustion etched into the lines on his face. “No, Winn, it really doesn’t.” Then he straightened up slightly and said, “And just so we’re clear: Worldkiller invasion or not, I will drag your ass back here if I hear so much as a snuffle. Got it?”
Winn nodded. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
"Are you sure you're up for this?" James asked twenty minutes later.
In that time, Winn had managed to sit upright and swing his legs over the side of the bed. His vision was still slightly blurry around the edges, his head throbbed in time with his pulse and his insides ached fiercely. However, he was feeling heads and tails better than he had right after waking up, which he could only assume was due to whatever had just finished flowing through his IV. He suspected the feeling wasn’t going to be permanent, but he’d take it while he could get it.
He turned his head and fixed a slightly blurry James with what was assuredly a not-very-convincing smile. "Absolutely.”
“You’re full of shit,” James stated, just as Dr. Kirby walked back into the medbay.
“I assume you’re still dead-set on leaving, Agent Schott?” she asked as she pulled on a set of gloves.
“Yup,” Winn replied, holding out the arm with the IV in it so she’d have easier access.
"You need to be drinking lots of water," Dr. Kirby instructed as she pulled out the cannula out of his forearm and swapped it for a cotton ball. She motioned for him to apply pressure to the spot then lifted his arm above his head. “Also something with electrolytes every few hours. You should eat a good meal as soon as possible.” She then handed James a bag and a bottle. “Cough drops to be consumed as needed, and cough suppressant to be taken every 3 hours. I want to see him back here before my shift ends for a check-up.”
“He’ll be here,” James promised.
Dr. Kirby nodded, then looked back at Winn. “Please, just…” she sighed, clearly suspecting her request was going to fall on deaf ears, “…be careful.”
“I will do my very best,” Winn said solemnly. It must have been a good enough response for Dr. Kirby nodded and once again left the medbay.
The second she was gone, Winn very slowly pushed himself off the bed. By the time he was relatively upright, he wasn’t at all surprised to find James was standing by his side, holding his upper arm for support.
“Can you stand on your own?” his friend asked.
“Let go of me and we’ll find out.”
James opened his hand slightly and to both of their surprises, Winn’s shaky legs bore his weight. "Nothing to it,” he said with a grin that he hoped was becoming more and more convincing as time passed.
Unfortunately, James’ expression said otherwise. He didn’t vocalize any concerns though, and just motioned for Winn to lead the way out of the medbay.
“Where are you going?” he asked when Winn shuffled in the other direction.
Winn chose not to respond and focused instead on keeping himself upright. When he made it to Alex’s bed and leaned harder against the foot rail than he should have had to, he said, “If I can beat this thing, Alex, you can too.”
He brushed his hand against hers, then turned and continued his slow walk out of the medbay, James just a half-step behind him.
Thankfully it wasn't too far to his desk and Winn all but dropped into his favorite chair, sweating profusely and breathing hard. He had only been infected that morning but in that time, Pestilence’s sickness seemed to have really done a number on his internal organs.
As he struggled to regulate his breathing, he heard James ask, "Are you sure you're alright, man?"
At this point, lying was useless—he’d caught a glimpse of himself in the many reflective surfaces on his way down here and had seen his pale complexion and the dark circles under his eyes—so he went with the truth. "Good enough, considering.”
He held out his hands for the bag of cough drops and upon receiving it, popped one into his mouth. Then, he pulled in as deep a breath as he could manage, stretched out his arms in front of him, feeling the burn in even that small motion, and logged into his computer.
“You know you can leave,” Winn said to James. “I’m not going anywhere.”
As he spoke, he pulled up the security feed for the medbay, where Alex was still unconscious but stable, and the adjacent conference room, where Kara was lying under her yellow sun lamps, since both beds in the medbay had been occupied. Winn had learned that Kara had been scratched from James while waiting for his IV to finish, along with the fact that the Legionaires hoped the lamps would offset the fact that Kara’s cure was oral and not intravenous… Actually, once they turned down Winn’s old bed, Kara could be moved back into the medbay. It would probably make for easier monitoring. Winn made a note to ping Daniel, the med tech, about it later.
“Not a chance.” In his peripheral vision, Winn saw James drop into the chair next to him, and pull out his phone. “You’ve been signed out into my care, and I take that job very seriously. I am about to order food though, so what sounds good?”
Winn considered that for a moment, then said, “Thai.” He took one last look at Kara and Alex, then reduced the feeds to the bottom corner of his monitor.
“Alright, Demos,” Winn said, staring up at the massive array of screens affixed to the wall. “Fill me in.”
“Agent Schotttttttttt!”
Winn winced as he heard J’onn’s bellowing and angry voice echo through the command center.
“You are supposed to be in the medbay.”
Winn turned around in his chair as fast as his brain would allow. “I was needed here.”
“No, you were not, and you disobeyed a direct order in doing so. I told you your team had it covered and yet—”
“I don’t want to intrude,” Brainy said from where he’d been working on Winn’s other side. “But Winn’s prior experience with the Worldkillers has most certainly been of use in tracking their current location.”
J’onn fixed Brainy with a positively murderous expression. “Go on.”
“With his help, we were able to augment the work he did to protect you all from Purity’s screams and create a tracker for that specific frequency. Which is running now.” Brainy pointed to the array of screens which showed the city being scanned in methodical waves.
To his credit, Winn just sat silently, knowing anything he could say at the moment would only make the situation worse.
J’onn turned to face James. “And you’ve been keeping an eye on him?”
James nodded. “He’s actually doing much better, sir. And,” James looked down to check his watch, “he has his check-in in twenty minutes.”
Winn groaned internally, but kept his face as neutral as possible for J’onn, who had now turned to face him.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said quickly. “But I couldn’t just lay there with the Worldkillers on the loose.”
J’onn let out a long breath but then, he nodded. “We will discuss this later, Agent Schott. For now, you can fill me in on what you have.”
Winn took a sip of apple juice to calm his throat, unwrapped another cough drop, then began. “In addition to the tracker Brainy mentioned, we’re scanning all available feeds for the Worldkillers, and calculating probable vectors based on the direction they left Silvermine. They have to have a base of some sort which is keeping them out of sight. Hopefully we can identify it.”
“That’s good work,” J’onn said after a moment. “Now, Brainy and Demos can take it from here while you go to your check-up, understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
J’onn reached out and clasped Winn’s shoulder gently. “I’m glad to see you up and about,” he said softly, before he turned on his heel and left the room.
“That went about as well as I could have hoped,” Winn said, carefully spinning back to face the wall of screens.
“Nope,” James said, standing and holding out his hand to Winn. “Check-up first.”
Sometime later, something poked Winn's shoulder, jolting him into consciousness.
"Wha'?" he slurred as he lifted his head and stared at his unfamiliar surroundings. Slowly, his vision began to clear and he recognized his workstation at the DEO, and the fact that his cheek was smashed into his keyboard. Apparently he'd fallen asleep while working.
"Sorry to wake you, buddy,” James said. “I know you need it, but I thought you’d want to know that Alex is awake.”
“Huh?” Winn so eloquently ground out. In the next instant, his brain reminded him of the Worldkillers situation, and Winn lifted his head as quickly as he could manage so he could look at James.
“She is? Kara too?” As he straightened up, he felt something slip down from his shoulders and turned from the waist to see a blanket pooled around his lower back. The hell had happened here? The last thing he remembered was sipping at the tea that had appeared out of nowhere while he waited for results from his and Brainy’s tracker.
“How long have I been out? Do we have anything?" he asked as he pulled the cup of tea closer and sniffed at it. It smelled like lemon and when he sipped at it again, it tasted normal, which suggested he'd fallen asleep on his own volition, not that he'd been drugged.
“One question at a time. Yes, yes, two hours, and not yet.”
It took Winn a second to pop back the conversation stack and connect his questions to James’ answers. “Two hours?”
James nodded and slid over a new bottle of water. “Speaking of, it’s time to drink some more.”
“Can we see them?” Winn asked, unscrewing the lid somewhat unsteadily and taking a long drink. The cool water felt fantastic going down his parched throat, and to his great surprise, his body was aching significantly less than it had been before he’d fallen asleep. Maybe there was something to the whole ‘turning it off and on again’ thing after all.
“Kara is off with Imra, and Alex is being examined by Dr. Kirby,” James reported. “But after that, I don’t see why not.”
Before he could respond, Winn heard a very recognizable set of footsteps approaching and turned slowly in his chair to see Kara and Imra heading toward him, fully suited up.
“Winn, welcome back,” Kara enthused as she laid a hand on his shoulder.
“You too.” Winn wanted to stand and hug her, but that felt like a bad idea in his current state. So he grabbed her hand and pulled it across his chest, hugging what he could reach tightly with both arms.
Kara seemed to understand what he was going for and leaned forward, so she could wrap her other arm around both of his.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said, tipping her head so it rested against his.
“Against all odds,” he quipped, then patted her arm twice and released her.
Naturally, Kara then asked about the Worldkillers and Winn set about answering her questions, with Demos and Brainy filling in the details he was missing.
Then the tracker went off and Mon-El, Imra and Kara phased to L-Corp with J’onn, and Purity and Pestilence showed up and absconded with Reign, and Lena was taken into custody.
“Hey,” James then exclaimed. He sounded so surprised that Winn tore his gaze from the feed of CSI going through Lena’s lab, to find Alex shuffling slowly into the command center, hands held out to balance herself.
James was on his feet in an instant, offering Alex his chair. She dropped into it without protest, which was truly a sign of how horrible she must have been feeling.
“Does Dr. Kirby know you’re down here?” James asked.
Alex shook her head, her brow furrowing as she did so. “I got—”
“Tired of lying in the medbay while the Worldkillers are loose.” James shot Winn a long-suffering glance. “There’s a lot of that going around.”
Winn made a face at James as he scrounged up an unopened bottle of apple juice and held it out to Alex. “Drink it,” he said. “It helps.”
Alex looked less than convinced but she cracked open the seal and took a sip. “Thanks, Winn.”
“Also.” Winn popped open his bottom desk drawer and lobbed over a bottle of Advil.
Alex managed to catch the bottle before it hit the desk and unscrewed the lid quickly, swallowing at least three than Winn saw. “I’m a doctor too,” she reminded James, who was watching the exchange in appalment.
James shook his head quickly, like he couldn’t understand what had just happened, then looked over at Winn. “When did you take those?”
“When you went to pick up the Thai food,” Brainy said as he entered the command center from the walkway under the screens.
James whirled around to face Brainy. “You knew?”
“It was only 1.5 times the recommended dosage, and it did not interfere with anything Winn was given intravenously, so I deemed it alright,” Brainy reported. “Was I wrong to do so?”
“No,” Winn said quickly, while James just scrubbed his hand down his face and exhaled loudly. Then, he looked over at the two recovering DEO agents, before glancing up at the ceiling as if to ask for patience and pulling out his phone.
“What do you want to eat, Alex?” he asked.
“I’m not hungry,” she replied, eyes glued to the wall of screens. “But thanks.”
“It wasn’t really a question.”
“What did you get?” she asked Winn, who felt the tickle in his throat building and quickly popped another cough drop.
“Thai. But we ate it all.”
Alex made a face then turned her attention back to the city scan. “Whatever you wait,” she said to James as she took another sip of apple juice. “I’m flexible.”
As James stepped away to place the order, Alex reached over the aisle and grabbed Winn’s hand.
“I’m really, really glad you’re okay,” she said.
“Me too.”
And even though Winn still didn’t feel like standing, he rolled his chair over to Alex so he could give her a proper hug.
Sometime later, J’onn walked back into the command center to get an update on the search, and was quickly shushed by Brainy, who held a finger to his blue lips. Brainy then pointed to the workstation closest to the array of screens where Winn and Alex were slumped over in their chairs, heads pillowed against their arms on the workstation, both fast asleep, their adjacent hands overlapping slightly. Based on the pile of takeout containers next to the trash can and the bottles of water in front of each of them, J’onn knew they’d been well cared for by the rest of the team, but specifically James, who now stood and walked over to where J’onn was standing on the opposite end of the command center.
“Any chance you can move them without waking them?” James asked.
J’onn nodded. “There are adjoining rooms on the third floor that they can have for the night.”
James nodded, then quickly pursed his lips to hide the beginnings of a yawn.
“I’ve got it from here,” J’onn said, clapping James’ shoulder. “Go get some rest. Catco is going to need its CEO tomorrow to break the news about the cure, and the impending recoveries of the major and his staff.”
James nodded. “Thank you.”
“No,” J’onn replied, as he took another look at his sleeping agents. “Thank you.”
Notes:
There will be one more chapter of More Than A Redshirt set in 3x23, Battles Lost and Won. Winn and his mother’s relationship is rocky at best, but he can’t leave for the future without talking to her. Brainy and the jar of dirt he gifted Winn will play heavily into this as well.
Final notes: 1) Winn waking up wrapped in a blanket is a callback to 3x15, where he says he hates being cold and has very thin skin. Even though James wasn’t in that scene, you can bet it has come up while they're Guardianing late at night, so in this fic, James goes out of his way to make sure a sick Winn (and Alex) are plenty warm.
2) The one idea I wanted to work into this chapter that just didn’t fit, was Alex overhearing Winn’s conversation with James about wanting to do something more. Honestly, though, it fits better a few episodes later when he leaves for the future, that she gets him a plaque that says either “Better than Steve” or “Elon, who?”
Chapter 8: 3x23, Battles Won and Lost
Summary:
Missing scene for 3x23, Battles Lost and Won. Winn and Mary’s relationship is rocky at best, but he still wants to talk to her before he leaves for the future. Featuring Mon-El, Brainy, and Winn's jar of dirt.
It's sappier than the rest of the chapters, but it felt like the one piece of closure Winn needed yet. Hope you enjoy!
Notes:
A/N: We’re going to skip over 3x22, Make It Reign, because any tag I would write for it would end up a lot like the bar scene from 3x15 (Chapter Six). However, before we move on, I have a few questions, most critically, where was Demos’ gun throughout the episode? You know, the one Winn stole from him in 3x15? Also, I take issue with his death scene. Wouldn’t the Worldkillers have changed targets once they saw him throwing the blood into the air? And Kara just standing there yelling, “No,” instead of trying to somehow protect Demos… And just, the lack of J’onn. “I’ll get him if the situation becomes dire.” Alex, the situation already is dire. One of your team is dead and three dark Kryptonians just arrived from Argo City.
Suffice it to say, I was not happy with that episode, Bob. Not. Happy.
However, it paved the way for the beautiful finale that was 3x23, Battles Lost and Won, where our Protector of the Stars gets the recognition he deserves.
Final note: in regards to some of the things Winn says and does in this chapter, it doesn’t mean he’s totally forgiven his mom. I think they could get there with time and conversation, but they haven’t had a lot of either since Senior’s death. With Winn’s imminent departure and him not being sure if/when he’ll ever be back though, he’s going with his heart and saying what he feels is right.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“How much time do we have before we leave?” Winn asked Mon-El as they approached the Legion ship. As excited as he was to actually see the future (specifically how his design had ended up working), right now his heart was heavy with the knowledge that, in just under six hours, he’d be in a totally different century than his friends, or more appropriately, his family. There’d be no more game nights at Kara’s, no late-night Guardianing with James, no hangouts at Al’s with his fellow analysts or the rest of the Superfriends. The only people he’d know in the future would be Mon-El, who he actually liked; Imra, who he hardly knew, but they’d fixed the Legion ship together and she had helped save his life, so she couldn’t be that bad; and maybe J’onn, though Mon-El said he couldn’t confirm or deny that until they were actually in the future.
“Not long,” Mon-El said, not looking up from his watch where he was paging through some sort of data flow. “Imra is running the flight checks now.”
“But like, in measurable units, how long is that?”
“Ten minutes, maybe?” Now Mon-El looked over at Winn in curiosity. “Why?”
Winn pulled in a deep breath as he looked around the corridor, stalling while his brain struggled to string together his thoughts. “I think I need to say goodbye to my mom,” he finally said. “That’s weird, though, right? Like, we barely know each other. It’s only been a few weeks since I found out she wasn’t dead, and we’ve only talked on the phone, like, twice.” He took a deep breath as he scrubbed a hand down his face. “We’ve been on our own for twenty years, so it shouldn’t matter if I just go, right?”
“Winn. Hey.” Mon-El reached out and clasped Winn’s shoulder. “If you think this is something you need to do, go. We can wait an hour.”
“Thank you.” With that, Winn slipped out of Mon-El’s grip and headed back to the DEO to find someone to fly him to Chicago.
“Thanks for the lift,” Winn said to Kara, once she’d landed beside him on the cracked sidewalk. She was still dressed in the suit she’d been wearing when they’d said their goodbyes, the suit he’d made her three years ago, with the sewing machine he’d borrowed from his neighbor and the Kevlar-esque material from the dark web. If he’d had more notice about his move to the future, Winn could have designed her a new suit to last the next few years with the fancy tech available at the DEO. Yet somehow, there hadn’t been time or a reason to, given how well the original was holding up.
“It’s the least I can do,” Kara said, drawing Winn back to the present. Then she turned on her heel to face the house they’d landed in front of. “This is it?”
Winn nodded, then shrugged. “This is the address she gave me.”
The house was small and not in the best neighborhood, but it was kept up well enough. The windows were clean, the roof in one piece, and the porch rail devoid of any spiderwebs.
“Want me to come with you?”
Yes.
“No,” he replied, “but thank you.”
“Okay.” Fortunately, Kara didn’t look as disappointed as Winn thought she might. She smiled warmly at him then hovered about six feet in the air. “Call me when you’re done,” she said before flying away.
Alone once again, Winn straightened his shoulders, scaled the steps, and crossed the slightly rickety porch. He paused there, outside the security door, took another steeling breath then knocked on the frame.
“Coming!” his mom’s voice shrilled from inside. Winn heard her footsteps approaching and quickly ran his hands through his hair to tame the windblown look he was definitely rocking. As Mary fumbled with at least three separate locks, Winn tugged down the hem of his half-zip and straightened it over his shoulders.
The inner wooden door opened a few inches and Mary peered out.
“Winn!” she breathed, quickly unlocking the security door and flinging it open. Winn barely stepped back in time to avoid being hit by it.
“How are you? Are you okay?” Mary scanned the area behind him suspiciously. “Are you in trouble? Is it Jacqueline?”
“No, mom. I’m fine. I just… I just need to talk to you.”
“Oh.” Mary stepped back from the doorway and made a flourish with her hand. “Then come on in.”
The inside of Mary’s house was much like the outside: small, but clean. The door opened into the living room, with a dining room adjacent and a kitchen behind it. A small hallway disappeared off to the left where Winn could see the doors to a bedroom and bathroom. The décor was cozy but not grand: blankets were draped on the couch and loveseat, a doily covered the middle of the glass coffee table, and a few nature prints were hung on the walls.
“Your place is nice,” he said, when he was finished looking around.
“Thank you.” As she spoke, Mary made a shooing motion with her hands to usher him further into the house. “It’s a long way from National City. You must be thirsty.”
“Water would be great.”
Mary nodded then disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Winn hovering awkwardly in the dining room until she returned. Upon finding him still standing, Mary gestured at one of the empty chairs around the small dining room table, placed one of the two water bottles she'd fetched in front of it, and said, "Sit, sit!" while taking a seat herself.
As he did so, Winn caught a glimpse of a framed picture on the china cabinet base behind him. It was of him and Mary from at least twenty-five years ago. They were both standing on the ground, but Mary had bent over slightly to wrap Winn in a tight hug from behind. She was leaning forward so their cheeks were pressed together, and little Winn was smiling so widely his eyes were scrunched closed.
“That’s my favorite picture of us,” Mary said.
Winn had no recollection of that picture being taken, but the happiness that was emanating from it was causing a lump to form in his throat. He cleared it loudly and shifted his gaze to the only other framed photo. It was much more recent, of Mary and a man who seemed to be about her age.
“Who’s he?” he asked, looking back at his mom.
“His name is Paul,” she said, picking absently at the label of her water bottle. “He works at Ace Hardware downtown. He’s divorced. Has two kids about your age.” She put the bottle aside. “I should have told you sooner, I know, but there never was the right—”
“Are you happy?” Winn interrupted. That was really all that mattered. After all they’d been through, together and separately, it was actually the only thing that mattered.
Mary’s response was instantaneous. “Yeah, Winn, I am.”
“Good,” he replied, feeling a small weight lift off his shoulders. His mom had Paul, Paul with two kids and a job at Ace Hardware. She had someone who made her happy. She wouldn’t be alone after he left.
To the future. In a complete reversal of his new revelation, a lump once again formed in Winn's throat and he felt wetness begin to build behind his eyes. He bit down on the corner of his tongue to try to get it to stop. He was not about to break down here, in his mom's house, in front of the pictures of little him and Mary’s new boyfriend.
Thankfully, the pain radiating through his tongue seemed to do the trick, but in that time that had passed, Mary had rounded the table and was now seated on the chair next to him. “You’re scaring me,” she said softly, staring at Winn with eyes that, even after all these years, could see right into his soul. “Are you okay?”
Winn nodded then looked back at the photos if for no other reason than to get away from Mary’s scrutinizing glance. “Yeah, I just… it’s just…” It was as good a time as any to drop the news, so he turned back to her and said, “Mom, I have this really great opportunity, for my career and my life, and I…” he swallowed hard. “And I’m going to take it.”
Mary frowned slightly. “If it’s so great, why do you look so sad?”
“Because…” Winn dragged his head in a vertical circle, trying to make the next words out of his mouth sound less insane. Coming up with no way to achieve that, he just went for it. “It’s in the future.”
He risked a glance over at Mary, who was staring at him in a combination of shock and disbelief. “The future?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. Apparently, in the future, they need my help. And I didn’t think I was qualified cos the problem,” he held out his hands, palms to the ceiling, and let out a soft whistle, “it’s way beyond what I know here. But…” Winn quickly pulled the plastic-encased design out of his jacket pocket and slid it over to Mary. “This is something I’ve been messing with for a while. I haven’t figured it out quite yet, but apparently…” He took another deep breath, almost unable to believe what he was going to say next. “Apparently it’s groundbreaking and it saves a lot of lives.” His throat tightened again, unbidden, and he had to swallow hard to continue. “I guess someone else figures it out, actually, but somehow I still get credited for it.” He pointed at the design. “That’s from the National Archives in the 31st century.”
“Oh, Winn,” Mary said, barely more than a breath. Then she was leaning forward and hugging him. Originally taken aback, Winn froze, but as he realized what was happening, he wrapped his arms around her.
“You were always such a special kid,” she said, her voice rough with unshed tears. “So smart. Light-years above your peers. Your elementary school only let you skip one grade, otherwise you could have graduated even earlier.” She pulled back so she could see his face, then gently rested her hands on his cheeks. “I’m so proud of you, Winn. For becoming the man you have. That’s all you and your fight and your kind heart. I’m not at all surprised that your work so positively impacts the future.”
Winn hadn’t cried in years: not when his father had tried to kill him, not when he’d stared down the barrel of a gun held by a criminal, not when he’d been dying from Pestilence, and not when his omnidirectional shield couldn’t save Demos. But now, despite the way he was gnawing on the side of his tongue, upon hearing everything a scared little foster kid whose father had killed half a dozen people and his mother had abandoned, had ever wanted to hear—that he was important, that he mattered, that he’d broken the cycle and not turned into his father—the tears began to fall.
He desperately tried to swipe them away, but was intercepted by Mary who leaned forward, pulled him into another hug and squeezed him tightly.
“I should have told you sooner,” she mumbled, and as close together as they were, Winn felt Mary’s own tears dripping down the side of his face. “You deserved to know how special you are. How proud I am of you.” She pulled in a shaky breath. “I just wish I’d gotten a chance to know you better.”
“Me too, Mom.” Winn soaked up the hug for another moment, then pulled away. As he sat back in his chair, he sucked in a deep breath and scrubbed his hands under his eyes, mentally instructing his brain to stop manufacturing more tears; he’d had enough of them today, thanks. “But about that. I have something for you.”
He grabbed his design and slid it back in his jacket, swapping it for Brainy’s jar of dirt, which he handed over.
“Dirt?” Mary questioned, turning the jar over in her hands.
Winn couldn’t help but smile at her confused expression. “Future dirt. From the 31st century. Which is cool in itself and all, but this specific jar has a bug in it. The electronic kind,” he was quick to clarify. “That can be heard from the future.”
At this, Mary looked up sharply.
“I can’t answer back, but, if you wanted…” Winn trailed off with a shrug.
Mary reached out and grabbed Winn’s outstretched hand. “I want it. Thank you, Winn.” She gave the jar of space dirt one more look then put it on the table. Letting her hands fall back into her lap, she asked, “Now, when do you leave for the future?”
Winn glanced down at his watch and saw that, factoring in the flight back to National City, his allotted time was almost up. “Now, pretty much.”
Mary’s face fell, but before Winn could fire off an assurance, she was on her feet and walking into the kitchen, where she fetched a box of Kleenex, hand sanitizer and a waste basket. “Up, up, up,” she said, making the motion with her filled hands. “You can’t go to the future looking like that, and we can’t have you missing your flight!” She paused. “Is it a flight right?”
“Yes.” Pulling a Kleenex from the proffered box, Winn blew his nose and lobbed the tissue into the trash can. “And you know you can’t tell anyone about this, right? I broke, like, eight official orders just coming here to tell you.”
“Winn, I promise I won’t say a word,” Mary said, crossing the first two fingers of her right hand for good measure. Then, as Winn sanitized his hands, she eyed the jar of dirt again. “How long do the batteries last in that thing?”
Now it was Winn’s turn to pause. “I… honestly have no idea. But if they ever go out, you can call the DEO, and ask for Brainy. He can fix it.”
Mary nodded sadly, for a reason Winn didn’t immediately understand. When he did, he felt almost worse because he couldn’t offer any reassurances about if or when he’d be back.
“I’m gonna miss you,” was all he said.
“Me too.” Mary pulled her top lip through her teeth, then said, “But you have to go! You can’t be late on my account. The future needs you!”
“Okay, mom.” As Winn turned to do just that, his eye caught the twenty-some-year-old photograph of him and his mom. For the last day since he’d decided to leave, he’d been snapping as many pictures as he could manage, of the DEO, of his friends, some posed, some candid, all of which would be going with him to the future, along with his things and every historical book he could find on such short notice. Winn hadn’t planned on taking a picture with his mom, but at that moment, it didn’t seem like he could leave without one.
“Just… one more thing,” Winn pulled out his phone and activated the front-facing camera. “We need a new picture. That one over there can’t be the last one of the two of us.”
Mary’s hands flew to her face, rubbing under her eyes then over her hair, as she frantically shook her head. She opened her mouth to protest, but then closed it and nodded, as the weight of his words sunk in.
“You should have taken it before we both started crying,” she grumbled, as she stood next to Winn and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, interlacing her fingers on the other side. Then she leaned in, so their faces were almost touching, and when they were both smiling, Winn snapped a handful of shots. Both their eyes were a little swollen still, but in the backlight from the kitchen, it was hardly noticeable.
“See,” Winn said, holding his phone out to Mary. “You look great.”
Mary stared at the photos critically then looked up at Winn again and nodded, her eyes misting slightly. “Thank you.”
“I’ll text it to you,” Winn promised as he felt his emotions threaten to return. “So you can put it up.”
“I will. Now go,” she said, waving at the door, “for real this time. I don't want you to be late.”
“Okay.” His piece said, Winn had every intention of walking straight out of his mom's house, but the closer he got, the more strongly he felt something pulling him back. He paused with his hand on the door handle, looked over his shoulder and said, “I love you, mom.”
Tears began falling from Mary’s eyes yet again as she replied, “I love you too, my special, special boy.”
As the door closed behind Winn, Mary added, softly, to herself, “My protector of the future.”
“Kara,” Winn called, once he was standing on the sidewalk outside his mom’s house. "I'm done. Come get me."
In the time it took for him to text the slew of photographs to his mom, a red and blue blur whooshed to a stop in front of him. Kara was breathing hard and smelled vaguely of smoke.
“How did it go?” she asked as she waved her hand in front of her face to dispel a grey cloud.
“Fine,” Winn said, drawing out the last syllable. “Did you have fun while I was in there?”
“Stopped two bank robberies and a multi-car pile-up,” Kara said proudly.
“Making you a states-wide hero now.” Winn was shooting for an easy quip, but his attempt fell woefully short.
Kara noticed, because of course she did, and stepped slightly closer. “Was it really okay?”
“Yeah… I promise.” Winn took one last look at his mom’s house and asked, “Can we go back to National City now?”
Kara nodded, wrapped her arms around Winn, then took off into the air.
Once on the Legion ship, Winn found Brainy configuring a holographic something from his-soon-to-no-longer-be-his chair. Mon-El and Imra were nowhere to be found.
“I never did thank you for bugging that jar of dirt,” Winn said, startling Brainy out of his work.
Brainy's brow furrowed. “That was… not the reaction I was expecting. My calculations had it at 96% certainty that you were going to be upset.”
Winn walked over to Brainy’s chair and poked at the hologram, causing it to flash red. Brainy shot Winn a sour look then slammed his palm down through the hologram to make it disappear.
“I gave it to my mom,” Winn then said, before Brainy could speak. “The dirt. So she has a piece of me here.”
Brainy stood, turned a crisp 45°, then laid one hand on Winn’s shoulder. “That was very honorable of you.”
“It felt like the right thing to do.” Winn made a clicking sound with his tongue then asked, “Also, hey, how long do the batteries in that jar of dirt last?”
“Hundreds of years. Future power is extremely efficient.”
“Oh.”
Brainy didn’t understand a lot of the 21st century, emotionally or otherwise, but somehow, this he picked up on right away. “However, if you’d like it to require some maintenance in a few years, that can be arranged.”
Winn stared at him in surprise. “You can do that? Wait, wait, I can do that?”
Brainy nodded, his fingers steepling in front of his chest. “As long as you don’t disturb too much or stay too long, it is possible to return as often as triannually in times of peace.”
Winn had trouble getting his mouth to work. He could come back. He could see his friends. This goodbye wasn't permanent. “Th—tha—thank you. I’d like that,” he finally stuttered out.
Nodding, Brainy looked around the ship one last time. Then, he stepped back so Winn had clear access to his old (new) chair. “It sticks a little, going into hyperdrive. Ease up a little when you hear it start to rattle and you’ll be fine.”
“Copy that.” Then, possessed by the spirit of the moment, Winn turned around and hugged Brainy, who was as stiff as a board in his grip. “Take care of them, okay?”
Brainy nodded into Winn’s shoulder as his arms slowly came to wrap around Winn. “Always.”
Just as they pulled away, Mon-El stepped out of the nearest corridor. “Are you ready, Winn?”
Winn took a long look, not dissimilar to the one Brainy had just taken, around his new home for the near future and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Notes:
And that’s the end of More Than A Redshirt—that is, after I decided it was going to be a multi-chapter fic. It was so much fun playing in the Supergirl sandbox, and getting to interact with all of you. Thanks for joining me on this Winn Schott appreciation journey!
Side note: I had so much fun delving into these characters that I already have a few thousand words written for a full Winn-centric fic. I’m not sure when it will be finished, but it should be whumpy and Superfriends-y and a lot of fun when it’s all said and done.
Thank you again for all your prompts and support!
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