Punisher ⋆ Rick Flag ✓

Alternate: One Day

   

alternate ending ───────── one day!

 Elina Alman can remember the way her ears rang as she stumbled out of the basement of Jotunheim. She remembers the smell of smoke and something distinctly mineral-like. There'd been a heavy weight on her back as her knees crashed to the ground in front of Robert Dubois, inevitability cracking one of her kneecaps from the pure heaviness she'd carry as far as she could. Cleo had been the first to be at Elina's side, her words muffled, almost sounding as if she was underwater. Cleo, with the help of Dubois, helped to carefully lift Rick Flag's unconscious body from Elina's back. Elina remembers the sun—the way it shined painfully through the once gloomy sky looking over Corto Maltese—she didn't think she'd ever make it out of that basement. It had been quite the miracle she had—especially while carrying a full grown man on her back while she herself was injuried in more ways than one, and even more so surprisingly when Elina managed to get herself and Rick safely out after the ceiling had collapsed on top of them. Robert crouched down in front of Elina, only to find her eyes elsewhere. They were trained on the bleeding body just a few feet away—Peacemaker was dead. Robert gently tapped her. "You alright, Alman?" Robert questioned.

Elina had looked back to the sky and nodded, feeling as the warm sun slowly orbited to shine on ber face—her eyes welling up with tears. "I been fuckin' better, Dubois." She had quipped. Elina doesn't remember much of what had happened afterwards—she definitely doesn't remember a giant starfish storming the city. The next thing she can clearly recall from that day is waking to the feeling of her body rocking back and forth slightly, the straps of a stretcher holding her down. Elina could see Harley and Robert, and Cleo and Nanaue. In that moment, Elina can feel peace. She knows if she doesn't make home—she's a little thankful her final moments are spent like this, in a plane with her friends, instead of the basement of Jotunheim.

A month had passed since Task Force X's involvement in Corto Maltese. It was safe to say that healing was a lengthy process—but, Elina's started to grow comfortable to the gray hospital walls that surrounded her. It was a little lonely at first—well, disregarding the guard that watched her for most of the day. As if the power dampener, the handcuffs, and the taped box on the floor outside her bed wasn't enough. It was all because of Waller—but one day, the box was gone when she woke, and the same guard came to remove the collar and cuffs. Apparently, someone had blackmailed Waller into finally letting go of Elina. And that someone had finally knocked at her room's door. Rick Flag—walking with crutches under his arms, looking blissfully alive.

That's when the two reconnected (finally). It was slow at first—catching one another up on how their recovery was going, what they planned on doing after they got out of the hospital. Elina had no plan—hell, she didn't have anywhere to go. Gotham? Yeah, but she was kind of a public menace around there. But, that's just everyone in Gotham. Elina informed Rick about her planless ideals—and much to her surprise, he made an offer. We could go somewhere. Together—somewhere new? D.C. seems kind of in poor taste for me now—I have no real place there now. Somewhere. Together. With Rick Flag? Together? Elina had replied, a little dubious. Rick nodded confidently, watering it down with a shrug of his shoulders. Elina had smiled. I'd like that.

And that's what landed them in Blüdhaven. An electrified city—it never slept, and Elina liked that. It wasn't cold or dreary like Gotham—Elina appreciated it. And they went together. For a long time—months and months without a visible end, Rick Flag and Elina Alman slept in seperate beds, bidding their goodnight's and ducking their opposite ways. They were glorified roommates, honestly. They made small talk over coffee, sat on opposite ends of the couch—they came together, but, their invisible string was severed as soon as they stepped through the door. But, as months grew into a nearing anniversary of Task Force X's infiltration in South America, the nightmares surfaced and Rick Flag and Elina Alman were being pulled together by their mended invisible string. Neither of them commented on the nights were a knock would awake them, light padding of feet across hardwood floorboards, and the presence of another person in your once cavity filled bed.

It became routine—no longer were they sitting so far away, as Rick liked to joke there's longer room for the holy spirit. They never really spoke on anything, they were bad at making things official. When Rick's family commented about his new girlfriend at a dinner, that's when it really hit the two that they were in fact together. So, the two made it official. Which was weird to say for the both of them—they were dating. It thoroughly freaked Elina out.

Life in Blüdhaven was healing. Like most cities in America these days, they had a vigilante guarding their city—a masked hero going by the name of Nightwing. On her late night store visits, catching sight of the hero made her wish she'd do something good for herself—get back in the game. But, legally, this time. Fighting crime, not eliminating it. But, no matter how much she wished for a beacon of heroism to grace her—Elina stayed true to her promise to Rick Flag. If you're retired, I'm retired. But, Rick Flag is a little unpredictable these days—especially when he himself pitches the idea of fighting crime to her while sitting in their small dining room. Elina had looked up from her food to her partner—then to the various framed photos decorating the walls of their home. With the shake of her head, Elina hummed. I've got such a life these days—I don't wanna go messing it up, Flag.

Elina Alman was certain she would have died in the basement of Jotunheim with her new lover in her arms—now, she held him tightly through the longer nights, as if he'd disappear when she opened her eyes. Luckily for her, Rick Flag never left her side. A very early retirement had been a little hard on him—their days had blurred together at first, mostly just talking one another through an extensive history of their otherwise boring lives beyond West Point and villianism. As more time passed, they found things to do. They were creating a life—a life together, most importantly. Before Rick Flag, Elina Alman didn't have much of a family. It'd been quite literally ended one by one and she, besides her very old grandmother, was the last of the Alman bloodline. But, Rick Flag gave her what would be most important to her—love.

Elina and Rick came a long way—their relationship having almost been cut far too short—devastatingly so. They went from bidding what was almost their final words to talking about possible outcomes, what they saw in their future together. Rick mentioned an army of children—to which Elina said one day, Rick, one day. Because she was allowed to say that now. She got to go to sleep at night knowing that there was a ninety percent chance she'd wake the next morning. It wasn't like that a long time ago—but, Elina Alman loves to know that if the world came to a devastation in two days, she'd have one more with Rick Flag. One more day would be enough, Elina knew that for sure.

emma speaks!
not what i had in mind for the alternate ending but its not too bad! again, ty all sm for all the crazy love and support on this fic! it's been amazing and wonderful! i love you all!