Chapter Text
The elevator ride up to Addison's apartment is silent. Grey spins her keys in one hand and loosely clutches her helmet in another. Addison scratches an unburnt section of her forearm (a rarity these days) rhythmically, moving her fingers in the other direction when she feels a scar border. The bell chimes and the doors part in front of them. They walk down the hall wordlessly before stopping at Addison's door.
"Well this is me... thanks for the ride home."
Grey clears her throat, "Yeah, all good, I - I figured you probably didn't want to fly home after... our talk."
Addison smiles, giving Grey a small nod.
Grey's gaze flicks down to her lips - she swallows, "I should - I should get goi-"
"Do you want to come in?"
Grey's eyes widen - the ghost of a smile leaves her face as quickly as it arrives, "It's getting pretty late."
"Your hair is still covered in-" she gestures vaguely, "-from the fire."
"I have a shower, Addison."
"So do I. And you have roommates who'll probably want to know why you look like you just got into a fight with a lump of charcoal."
Grey snorts, "I guess you might have a good point there."
"I have a lot of those."
Addison opens the door, Grey follows her in.
"Just know that I am fully taking advantage of you for your shower. No other reason." Grey whispers as Addison closes the door, breath tickling the back of her neck.
"Sure. No other reason."
She hears a faint meow and the sound of her bathroom door opening. Grey clears her throat; Addison turns to see her dropping her henley (red, covered in soot) onto the tiled floor next to the shower, "You coming?"
"I thought you were just taking advantage of me for my shower."
"I am. It's just more efficient if we shower together."
Addison laughs, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you just wanted to see me naked."
"But you know better?"
Addison enters the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning into Grey, lips hovering ever so slightly over her ear, "I do. I know that you just want to see me naked."
Grey's lips taste like smoke and blue raspberry. She hums in contentment as Addison's hands press themselves into the small of her back, gently massaging tense, lithe muscles. Grey breaks the kiss and Addison finds herself whining, tilting her head to see Grey caressing her shoulder with her lips.
"You know I can't feel that, right?"
Grey pauses, facing Addison again, her brows raised, "Nothing?"
"Mostly just pressure. Delicate touches? Not so much." She faintly recalls an incident where she nicked herself on a sharp corner and hadn't realised until she bled through her shirt.
Grey's gaze softens, cupping Addison's face.
"I'm fine, really. Just go back to kissing me."
Grey laughs, kissing her before pulling away again, eyes fixed on her shoulder.
"What did I just-"
She moans when Grey's teeth dig into her skin, cold hands tracing small circles into Addison's sides. She smiles, fingers pressing deeper into a knot in Grey's back.
Steam has fogged the mirror completely when they finish, Grey's hair smelling of Addison's aloe vera shampoo. Her eyes trail around the curves of Grey's body: solid, lean back muscles marked by the silhouette of Addison's hands and angry red lines where her nails dug, the scar in the centre of her torso a pale violet. Addison keeps her gaze away from the mirror behind Grey - dread pooling in her gut at the thought of her damaged, feeble reflection.
Grey gently grabs a towel from the rack, wrapping it around her shoulders, "Like what you see?"
"I was enjoying the view, until you so rudely obscured it."
Grey chuckles, turning around with another towel in hand, offering it Addison.
"I'm okay, don't worry." Addison assures, lighting up before quickly extinguishing herself - a faint hiss filling the room as dry, shiny red hair falls back down to Addison's shoulders, steam lingering around her figure.
Grey smirks, "Neat party trick."
"Hey, these powers have to be good for something these days."
Grey steps closer, just on the boundary of Addison's personal space, "I can think of a few other things they're good for."
A grin, and a single step forward - chests nearly touching, "Really? Like what?"
Grey's hands stroke her shoulders, trailing down her arms before grabbing her hands, Addison smiles, leaning into the touch, "Like..." A thumb strokes her palm - Grey's brows furrow, "Jesus Christ, your hands are flaky."
"I light myself on fire, Grey. Not exactly good for your skin."
She rolls her eyes, "You should probably invest in like - a lotion or something."
"I do, it's under the sink."
Grey's brows rise - she turns and steps away, crouching down to open the sink doors.
"What are you doing?"
Grey stands with the red bottle in hand, flicking open the lid and squeezing a generous portion into her open palm, "Making up for being a dick today. And paying you back for all those times you stitch me up."
A smile takes over Addison's face, she nods, "Alright."
Grey is thorough rubbing the lotion into Addison's body, cool fingers massaging the crevices of dry, burnt skin ("My back? Really, Grey?" "What? You can't reach it." "My mobility isn't that bad." "No, it is." "Shut up." "Buy my silence."). Addison finds herself leaning into the touch on instinct, a sigh escaping her lips.
"Am I boring you?"
"No, actually. Your hands are cool. It's... nice. Refreshing."
Grey hums, "You're pretty warm yourself. It's soothing."
"Soothing? Really? First time I've heard that about a resting temp of 104."
"You're a human space heater, Red. Take the compliment."
Addison cranes her neck to make eye contact, "Red?"
"I'm Grey, you're Red. It works."
A laugh, "Or I could - I don't know - call you your name."
A simper, "But where's the fun in that?"
Addison doesn't find it remotely funny - she smiles anyway; if only just to see the shine in Grey's eyes for a little bit longer.
Grey borrows an outfit from Addison's closet - damp hair falling onto the shoulders of a shirt with sleeves she fills out far too well.
"Thanks for the shower. And the sex."
Addison smirks, "I'm still kicking you out, you really shouldn't thank me."
"I've never slept over, you kicking me out isn't really surprising."
Addison considers taking it back: grabbing Grey by the wrist and dragging her back into bed with her - strong, cool arms wrapped around her fragile, scorched figure. She recalls the way she woke up to her smoke alarm going off the previous week and decides against it.
"Yeah, I just - I tend to..." She lights her hand ablaze as she gestures, putting herself out with the flick of the wrist, "In my sleep. It's not fun."
"Seriously? You think you're gonna wake up to the smell of burnt flesh while we're spooning or something?"
"We don't spoon but... yeah."
"You're being neurotic."
"I'm being realistic. I'm a hazard."
"You really aren't dangerous."
"Tell that to my nerve damage."
Grey shrugs, "Alright, I get it. I'll leave."
Addison nods gratefully.
She's dying in her dream. Or that's what it feels like, at least. A fire blazes everywhere she sees, sucking the air out of her lungs to fuel the inferno she's drowning in; she opens her mouth to scream and all that comes out is a whimper. In the distance she sees a woman with long, blonde hair, back turned to her. She reaches forwards only for the woman to dissolve into ashes. Red falls to her knees, the floor collapsing underneath her as she falls into the abyss, her body burning away.
When Addison wakes up she's lit - a hole scorched into her shirt and Milo hissing on the opposite side of the room. She coughs in response to the smoke in the room, quickly extinguishing herself before she opens the window, swatting at the air.
Addison sighs, "This is exactly why I wanted her to leave." She accepted that she was a danger to others a long time ago; she doesn't understand how Grey can't see it, too.
Milo purrs, curling up in the now-blackened spot of the bed in the shape of Addison's silhouette.
"And I forgot the Diazepam." She hadn't needed it in years, the daily activities of a superhero tiring her body to the point where her mind was more concerned with resting than with torturing her sleeping psyche. The prescription was new, retirement bringing an incendiary restlessness into Addison's sleep cycle for the first time since medical school.
Milo opens his eyes to stare at her.
"Don't look at me like that."
A huff, Milo turning his head to look away from her.
"And now I'm a crazy lady talking to my cat. Great."
She arrives at the office ten minutes early, the hum of her car engine filling her ears as she parks. She slides her glasses to the top of her head and cringes at the way her vision blurs, unable to distinguish the borders of the giant SDN sign in front of the building. She sighs, resting her forehead against the steering wheel. She sits in the car motionless, breathing deeply to steady herself. She hears a whoosh, looking up to see Golden Guy lowering himself onto the ground, cape fluttering in the wind and Addison finds herself fantasising about how she used to soar through Times Square; her daydream is ruined when she recalls the way her ribs cracked when she was thrown into a billboard.
She's grateful that the team is talkative. It makes for a good distraction - she'll take anything over being alone with her thoughts today.
"Have you guys ever noticed the Seattle vibe kinda... sucks?" Hard Head asks.
"It's the rain. Seasonal depression." Brainwave remarks.
"I love the rain." Virtue comments.
"I hate the rain." Brightburn remarks.
"But you're from Chehalis." Glacier observes.
"Yeah, but it's hard to light a fire."
"That sounds like a you problem." Golden Guy jokes.
"Well according to my shrink I have 'severe pyromania' and I'm 'lucky I have a job that lets me release my impulses' so it's technically-"
Addison clears her throat, "Guys. Respectfully, shut up and let's do our jobs."
Grey chuckles, "Who twisted your panties this morning?"
Addison rolls her eyes.
The shift goes by slowly: A middle school talent show in need of judges (Hard Head and Brightburn, who both come back to the office covered in stickers), a broken down ice cream truck (Glacier refreezes a kid's snow cone, seeming very proud of herself), a car pileup (Brainwave to clear the wreckage, Grey Ghost to do triage), an explosion at the refinery (Golden Guy & Phantom, who stink up the building with the smell of gasoline) and a jumper (Richard seriously wasn't kidding about Virtue being a good crisis negotiator).
She watches the steam from her mug waft through the air of the break room, taking a sip and smiling when the coffee hits her tongue (for anyone else it would be scalding, for Addison it's just barely warm).
Brightburn and Hard Head stand next to the vending machine, chattering.
"Maybe she cools things down with her mouth. Do we know anyone like that? Freezing kisses?" Brightburn asks.
Hard Head shrugs, "Frostbite? But she's a blonde and like, really jacked."
Brightburn clears her throat, "Hey Addison - did you recently lose like, twenty pounds of muscle?"
Fifteen from a medically-induced coma, actually, "What the hell are you talking about?" Addison asks, taking another sip from her mug.
"There's a pool on which superhero you used to be. Winner gets seventy-three dollars, twenty-five cents and a Chilli's gift card." Hard Head supplies
Addison raises an eyebrow, "That's an extremely specific number."
Brightburn bats her eyelashes, "And that extremely specific number could be ours if you just gave us a tiny little hint. Please?"
She stares down into the brown abyss of her mug, considering it. She decides on honesty, even if it's a misdirection.
"Sure. These-" She uses her free hand to gesture to her forearm, sleeve rolled back to her elbow and displaying the angry, burnt skin, "are actually very ironic."
Brightburn furrows her eyebrows as Hard Head tilts his head, "That's... so vague."
Addison shrugs, walking to the door, "Well it's all you get. You'll just have to earn your seventy-three dollars and twenty-five cents some other way. I'll let you know if I work out how. Get it? Because we're at-"
A Twinkie flies at Addison head and her empty hand moves to catch it on instinct; the scar tissue near her elbow whining at the sudden extension.
"Good reflexes." Brightburn notes.
"This is mine now!" Addison huffs over her shoulder as she leaves the room.
Teddy's at her desk picking apart her food with a fork. Brainwave leans against the cubicle, laughing. Teddy looks lighter as she and Brainwave talk, happier. It's nice to see Teddy look so unburdened when she can remember the way she grieved Henry like it was yesterday. Addison sinks into her chair with a sigh, setting the mug down on her desk and fumbling with the plastic wrapping.
"Since when do you eat Twinkies?" Teddy teases, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. Brainwave snorts and leaves, giving Teddy's shoulder a brief squeeze.
"Brightburn threw it at me to test my reflexes - apparently there's a betting pool on my identity."
Teddy laughs, "Wait, really?"
"Really. You didn't tell Brainwave? Give her the easy win?"
"She never mentioned it. I doubt she'd want me to tell her, anyway. It spoils the fun."
"There's 'fun' in uncovering my secret identity?"
A shrug, "A little. It's almost like a puzzle."
"Except it's my personal life."
Teddy sighs, "But it's not anymore. Red Rocket is just as dead and buried as Blonde Blur is. We're just Addison and Teddy now, and that's okay. We don't have to be these big, strong, infallible heroes anymore. We can just be... us."
Her mind wanders to the previous night when Grey had cradled her face as she told her she prefers Addison to Red Rocket. She nods, "Thanks, Teddy."
"Anytime."
The rest of shift goes by rhythmically. She goes through the motions, turning over the last twenty-four hours in her mind on repeat: the pride that bloomed in her chest for the first time in months at the fire, the trepidation in her throat as she poured her heart out in the parking lot holding a Slurpee, the repulsion in her gut when the scent of burnt cotton filled her bedroom, the-
"Who's up for drinks?" Hard Head suggests.
Right. Her shift had ended. She had almost forgotten until the team started talking over each other on comms.
"Joe's?" Virtue asks.
"Obviously."
Addison sighs as she leans back in her chair, moving to take off her headset, "Good shift, guys. See you tomorr-"
"What's the matter? Too cool to get a drink with us?" Grey rasps.
"Yeah come on. We know you don't have plans." Brainwave teases.
"Relax. It'll be fun, we promise." Brightburn swears.
She laughs, bowing her head for her hair to cover her eyes despite no one looking at her (a habit formed in empty, cold Connecticut halls where she was never allowed to be vulnerable that she can't quite seem to break), "Yeah, okay. I'll meet you guys there."
She's deafened by the overlapping sounds of cheering. A smile creeps up on her face.
She can't help but fiddle with her sleeves as she walks into the bar - shame pooling in the back of her throat like bile at the thought of masked eyes looking from her to the SDN logo and feeling pity for her. Because now she's broken. Now she can't do the one thing she was good for - the one thing she was made for. Defective. Useless. She can't tell if she's relieved or disappointed when she realises no one is looking - nobody cares.
She spots Glacier & Virtue first - posted up near the dartboard. She realises Phantom is also with them when he says hello.
"You made it!"
"I did. By popular demand."
Virtue squints, gaze focused just above Addison's head, Glacier smiles, "Brightburn and Golden Guy are settling a bet with a guy who owes her money, Brainwave and Hard head are playing pool? I think? And Grey..." She pauses, head turning to scan the room, "Is over there."
Addison turns her head to the direction Glacier points at, seeing Grey at the bar.
Addison smiles, "I'll go say hello."
Golden Guy gives her a small nod when Addison approaches the table he's sat at, arms linked with a man in blue spandex. Brightburn grins with a wave ("Changed your mind on that hint?" "Absolutely not. But it's cute that you tried."). Brainwave and Hard Head ask her to settle an argument ("Is it cheating if you use your powers to manipulate the cue?" "Of course it is! Use your hands like everybody else!" "Oh please, you broke two with those mittens of yours last time we were here. It's a miracle Joe didn't ban you.").
Grey is trying and failing to catch the attention of the bartender, Addison walks over and stands besides her - Grey sighs dramatically.
"Buy me a drink, will you?"
"Well, isn't that cozy? What will HR think?" Addison jokes.
"I think HR would be more interested in how I lost my sense of taste last week."
"Really? Not about the bruise on my shoulder that matches your dental records?"
Grey laughs, "Hey, not my fault that you-"
A voice Addison can't quite place interrupts her, "Hey, Grey! I got a bone to pick with you!"
Grey looks over Addison's shoulder and groans, "Ugh, what do you want?"
Addison turns - the man in front of her is clad in a tacky, black costume with an obnoxious fire pattern stitched into it. She rolls her eyes.
He has a deep scowl set in his face, "In case you haven't noticed, this is a superhero bar-"
Grey's tone is impassive, "Wow, are you a superhero, Molotov? I didn't realise. I just thought you did shitty Guy Fieri cosplay for fun."
Addison snorts, "Molotov? Like the Premier of the Soviet Union?" She jokes.
Molotov seethes, "No, dumbass, like the cocktail." His eyes flick down to the warped skin of her forearms and grins predatorily, "I'm a fire hazard, doll. And from the looks of it your worst nightmare."
She swallows the sparks in the back of her throat that threaten to leak out of her mouth as a fury pools in her hands, knuckles aching to ignite.
Molotov turns back to Grey, "This is a hero bar, pipsqueak. You know, for real, actual superheroes. Not powerless crybabies who coast by on mommy's legacy and their pet geeks."
Addison's thoughts are invaded by the impulse to light him on fire. She presses her tongue into the roof of her mouth, fist clenched.
Grey stills - unnaturally so - gone is her usual sway or lean, replaced by a statuesque immobility and a clenched jaw, "Leave her out of this."
"Or what? You're gonna go crying to mommy? Oh wait a minute, you can't! Because she's-"
Addison claps sharply, hoping no one noticed the way her fingers sparked at the contact, "Okay, look! It's been a long day, we're all just looking to have a good time. How about I buy you a drink? Forget about... whatever this is supposed to be."
Molotov laughs, "You hitting on me, sweetheart? Cause I gotta warn ya, I'm way too hot for somebody like you to handle."
She really hopes her eyes aren't glowing right now, "Just - leave her alone." She utters, voice an octave higher than it should be.
Joe furrows his brows, sliding a whiskey over to the end of the bar at the woman in a cape standing behind Addison.
Molotov sneers, "Oh, no can do baby. You see, your friend here happens to be the biggest poser this side of the Space Needle and I just can't stand her-"
He doesn't get to finish his sentence. Addison interrupts him when she lights the glass of whiskey at the bar with her fingers and throws it in his face.
"You ever have a flaming shot before? Or is that too hot for you to handle?" Addison bites, breath blazing.
He swings at her - it's far too easy to dodge. The same can't be said for the headbutt she gets from the woman in the cape.
She reels, gums bleeding, "God, did I miss this." She laughs, guarding her face with her hands as a familiar adrenaline consumes her anxiety.
Molotov shakes his now eyebrow-less head, charging at Addison - Grey sends him tumbling with a kick. Another of Molotov's friends starts yelling obscenities before his mouth is quickly frozen shut and he trips over an invisible barrier. Addison turns to see Glacier give her an anxious nod, Brainwave raising her drink in toast. Virtue taps him on the shoulder and he crumples to the floor. Molotov raises his hands to shoot at Addison, jaw dropping when nothing happens - Brightburn laughs when Hard Head pins him to the ground. The woman in the cape punches her square in the jaw - Addison slaps her, hearing a sharp hiss as she tries to shake off the punch. She moves to kick Addison until her leg is grabbed by a now visible Phantom, Golden Guy standing on the other side of her.
And then everything goes to shit. She can't remember at what point between the obscenities, multicoloured energy blasts and blood spatter it does, but they all end up kicked out of the bar, bruised and bloodied - Molotov & Friends aren't far behind them, looking far worse for wear. The cool night air tickles her sore, split lip as they limp over to the ever-convenient 7/11. The cashier looks at them wide-eyed, a faint squeak escaping his throat. They all split up, grumbling as they buy their items and sitting outside in the parking lot.
Addison hisses at the cold pressed against her quickly bruising eye.
Grey withdraws the sealed lemonade popsicle from Addison's cheekbone, smirking, "Come on, don't be a baby."
"I'm fine, Grey. I've had way worse."
"That's not a brag."
"Never said it was."
"You phrased it like one."
Addison laughs, hissing at the sharp pain in her cheekbones, "It's just a bruise, seriously. You, on the other hand, look like shit."
Grey shrugs, the bandages Addison wrapped around her usually gloved knuckles already stained red, "This is my normal, relax."
Phantom groans as Glacier splints his nose, "Hey, can you guys like, give us a warning next time you start a fight? I wanted another drink."
Brightburn laughs, taking a bite of her steaming hot dog, "It was with Molotov, who cares?"
"I've been wanting to kick that guy's ass since day one." Hard Head adds, stealing a piece of liquorice from Virtue's bag ("Hey!).
Addison nods, "He is... a piece of work."
Brainwave hums, "Understatement of the century. Takes balls to pick a fight with him though, guy's tough."
Golden Guy sips on an Arizona Ice Tea, "Yeah, what kind of hero were you? Sentinel? Those were some crazy moves."
"Yeah, seriously. I mean, we all now this Addison chick's a front." Hard Head comments.
The team look at Addison expectantly - she tilts her head, sighing at the way the hair in her face filters out the outside world, letting her collect her thoughts. She looks down at her bruised, burnt knuckles, opening and closing her hands slowly - her gaze flicks over to Grey, who simply nods.
"You're right. 'Addison' is... a mask. One I haven't worn in a long time. She's the one who sits behind the desk, biding her time and dreaming of the day she can get back in the fight - even though she never will. Because the real me... I have no idea who she even is. I thought I did. But now I don't know. I didn't tell you because I think I just wanted to... bury it all. But the difference between this team getting by and this team really succeeding is trust - and trust is based on truth. So the truth is... I'm Red Rocket. Or well, I used to be Red Rocket."
She notices the way Brightburn & Hard Head's jaws drop, gaze flitting to Addison's hands and back up to her face. Golden Guy and Brainwave's eyebrows shoot to the top of their foreheads but otherwise stay silent. Virtue and Glacier's eyes widen the way Addison imagines they would when putting together the last pieces of a puzzle. Phantom chokes on his drink.
"So... does anybody have something they'd like to say?"
Grey shifts in her peripheral, "Yeah..." She peels off the domino mask, wincing as the adhesive stretches the skin around her eyes, "I'm Meredith."
Addison smiles, "It's nice to meet you, Meredith."
Glacier clears her throat, "Lexie."
"Alex."
"Cristina."
"I'm Jackson."
"Izzie."
"My name's April."
"George."
Cristina laughs, rubbing her eyes, "So what now, dance it out?"
Alex scoffs, tearing off his cowl and running hands through his hair, "Please no. Think I'm concussed."
"At least your nose isn't broken." George grumbles.
"George, you phase through stuff - how did that even happen?" Izzie teases.
The rest of the team chatter away, leaving Addison and Meredith in their own little bubble three feet away.
"What happened to Grey & Red?" Addison whispers.
Meredith smiles, "Maybe sometimes I don't want to just be 'Grey'."
"Sometimes I just want to be Red."
"I could always scream it when we're in the throes, if you want."
A giggle, "No, I should... I should probably get used to just being 'Addison' now."
Grey moves her hand closer to Addison's, interlocking their pinkies.
"Good. I like Addison."
"I think I'm starting to like Addison, too."