scott x hope oneshots

already home

The dust had settled, the world was restoring itself, people were laughing again, the celebrations had died down. This was two years later. It took two years of healing for Scott Lang to feel like he was finally regaining control of his own life again. What once had been nightmares were now peaceful dreams about the life he was yearning for, a life that he was willing to grab with two hands and fulfil. Life was short, it took a disaster to realise that. Now, he wouldn't let it go.

Returning to normality had been rough for not only him, but for those around him. Every day he reminded himself of how lucky he was that his family were all still here, alive and well. Others had lost people during the five year period. Scott was a very empathetic person and grieved for those he didn't know, people who had returned to find out their partners had moved on, that parents had died or that they didn't even have a home to go back to. He was lucky, he knew that, but that didn't stop the pain that lived in the pit of his stomach. He began to live in constant worry, checking that Cassie was safe every hour at night. He'd suddenly wake up, sweat dripping down his forehead and anxiety taking over his entire body. He'd rush into Cassie's room, find her asleep in bed and spend five to ten minutes with her, watching her breathe, checking she was alive. Afterwards, he'd return to his bed, their bed. He'd try his best not to disturb Hope, but still she seemed to just know. She'd roll over to face him, her eyes still shut tight as if she wasn't even awake. Her arm would immediately curl around his torso, and her fingers would rest on his lower back, the pad of her thumb moving in circles in an attempt to calm him. Sometimes she'd whisper an 'it's okay' or an 'I love you' and other times she'd remain silent. He'd keep his eyes on her until she fell asleep, often counting the freckles on her nose until his eyes began to droop and he'd fall into a deep slumber. He was amazed at how calming she was.

In time, things got better. Scott wouldn't wake up in panics and managed to spend entire nights without checking on Cassie or clinging to Hope. He was able to greet people on the streets again with a cheery 'hello' and go to his favourite taco truck without being reminded of that fateful day. He'd hear children's laughter as he walked through the local park, holding onto Hope's hand and relishing in the fact that this entire moment was made possible because of what they did that day. He could spend evenings with Maggie and Paxton, drinking wine in the garden and barbecuing food for them all to eat. Luis would often come with Kurt and Dave, sometimes Ava would come along too. He'd sit around a fire pit with Hope tucked under one arm and Cassie under another, laughing with his friends and family until everyone got a bit too tipsy and had to go home. He eventually went back to work with Hank, a place that no longer was filled with tension and pressure, but with gratitude and delight. Janet would always greet him with a tight hug and he'd feel like he was a real member of the Pym/Van Dyne clan.

Good news became great news, great news became amazing news, and everything in Scott's life became something he wanted to live for.

There was a time that Scott believed he would never get to tell Hope he loved her. He was stuck in that damn cell in Germany, cursing himself for being so stupid. Sure, he felt a part of something amazing but at what cost? He'd lost Hope, a woman that had been so stoic that he thought he'd never get to see what she was like stripped back. Then he did, and gosh she was everything. The way she opened up to him about her past when they lay in bed one night catching their breath. She'd lay on his chest and trace shapes across his body whilst telling him about the nights she'd spent crying with a pillow over her head, too afraid that her roommates would see how weak she was. She'd just wanted her mother, or even her father, to be there and hug her and tell her everything was going to be okay. Hope would tell him about the Christmases she'd sit at the window watching other kids go home with their parents, and her dad would always be the last one. He'd collect her with so much as a nod of his head and a, "hey sweetie" that would feel so inauthentic that Hope wouldn't even respond. She grew up thinking that her father blamed her and she didn't even know why. It broke Scott's heart to hear these stories but he never stopped her as it was clearly something she'd been bottling up for so long and needed to get out.