scott x hope oneshots

stupid lucky

As the ash fell from the sky, coating the smoldering crater that had once been the Avengers' headquarters, Scott stole a kiss.

For her, it had been barely a day. For him, it had been a harrowing week he hadn't completely believed he would survive. For everyone else, it had been five soul-crushing years. He should have been grateful but all he could feel was relief and that kind of feral glee that comes with revenge. If Thanos hadn't been ash, Scott would have pissed and danced on his grave. But that didn't feel appropriate at this moment. Not while they were still carrying Tony Stark's body out of the crater and Doctor Strange was still holding back an entire lake that threatened to drown them.

"Hey," Hope said in a hush. She ran a gloved hand along his jaw, drawing his eyes up to meet her own.

"Hey," he said and couldn't help but smile.

This time she kissed him.

They let the lake take it, fill in the crater and wash it all away. Eventually, the smoke cleared and the sun returned in a bright blue sky. Doctor Strange sat panting in the grass. Another sorcerer opened a portal to Wakanda, to New Asgard, to wherever the sorcerers were from. They trooped back in solemnly, carrying their dead. Scott wanted to thank them but he didn't know what to say and he didn't think he was the one who was supposed to do it. Hope watched them go too, hand clasped in his.

Eventually, the warriors were gone and just the ragtag Avengers were left standing. They looked lost. They had no home to be teleported back to. Steve, Cap, Captain America, looked shell shocked. Pepper Potts and that spider kid stood vigil over the body, silent, but still standing.

Over the hill, they saw the flash of blue and red lights and heard the screech of sirens. There was a hum in the air as if all around them, for hundreds of miles, people were shouting. Scott imagined he could hear it going 'round the world.

"Has it really been five years?"

Scott found it hard to speak. His mouth had gone dry but he turned to look her in the eye.

"Apparently. You guys left me in the Quantum Realm. It barely felt like five hours. Then, I got out and everything had changed."

She squeezed his hand.

"I'm sorry."

"No." He shook his head. He caught sight of the flying, glowing lady set down on the lawn. Thanos had blown her away but here she was without a scratch on her. He looked back to Hope. "No, it's okay. It's the only way I got you back."

Cassie greeted him at the door just as she had days before, reaching out to hug him, to touch his face, her eyes flooded with tears.

"For a second, I didn't think it was real. I didn't know if I could believe it until I saw the news. I mean, it's every kid's dream. That their dad will come back. I thought maybe I was dreaming." She spoke in a rush and Scott felt weak in the knees. But it hurt his heart that when he sank down, she was taller than him.

He wound up on the floor, legs crossed, big fat tears rolling down his face and he didn't know why. Were they tears of grief or rage or happiness? Something told him that they might have been all three and then some.

Hope put her hand on top of his head, casually, mockingly, but he could feel the tremor in her fingers.

"You remember Hope, right, Peanut?" He croaked out.

Cassie's smile was brilliant and so like her mother's that it stabbed at a part of him.

"Of course!" And it was so graceful in a way that he could never be. She accepted her father's on and off again girlfriend, the one who shrinks, like it was nothing.

He smiled because his little girl was still the greatest and wise beyond her years.

That night and for the rest of the week and until they completely ran out, there were fireworks over San Francisco. He hadn't been around for the world's grief. He didn't see what happened when half the world was ripped away but he was present for its joy. It was something to see.

Later, there would be complications. People would come back to find that those they had loved had died while they were away. Still, others would have moved on and found someone else. There would be pain and grief and problems with no good solutions.

But just in the aftermath, he saw grown men doing cartwheels in the park. He saw old people crying with joy in each other's arms. He saw children and parents, brothers and sisters, lovers and friends returned to one another. An ecstatic joy filled the air. One small get together spiraled into a block party into a parade which marched onto the freeway. People stood arm in arm and sang silly songs. The tribalism of the old world seemed extinguished, they were all citizens of the world. Being there at that moment was almost, almost worth it.

Scott sat on the front porch of Maggie and Paxton's place with Hope on one side and Cassie on the other and watched the sky light up every color. He was happy, he really was, but his mind kept skipping back to the things he'd lost and would never get back. Kept flicking back to how none of this was necessary. Without one bad tyrant, everything would be different but that was how it always went.

On the tv, which had been blaring nonstop for days now, world leaders were begging for ways to thank the Wakandans for their service, for the sacrifices their people had made on behalf of the people of the earth. Something told him it wouldn't last but it was nice while it did. The pundits were practically deifying Tony Stark. And little old Ant-Man wasn't worth a mention. Scott thought that was mostly okay.

One night, after the funeral, Scott lay with his hand over Hope's heart so he could feel it beating. Her skin was warm against his and he had kicked the sheets off his feet in his sleep. Someone a few streets down had started a bonfire and the smell of woodsmoke filled the room from the open window. He was counting the heart beats, inhales and exhales, the presence of being together in the same room. The sensation that she was wrapped tight in his arms and he wouldn't let her go, not for anything. A thought made his teeth clench and he fantasized about fighting off an army to keep her by his side. Deep down he knew Hope was a much better fighter than him. That in reality, he would wind up clinging to her leg if they had the luxury. But sometimes believing he had some control made him sleep better.

Hope shifted and gave a little huff of air.

"Why are you awake, Scott?"

He shrugged, knowing she would feel it.

"I don't know. I was scared. I'm still scared. I don't think I'll stop being scared."

She rolled over so that she could face him though she was only a shadow to him in the dark.

"It'll be okay. You know why?"

"No, why?"

"Because." He could hear the lilt of a smile in her voice even if he couldn't see it. "You, Scott Lang, are very, very stupid lucky."

"Is that so, Hope van Dyne?"

"Yes. Otherwise, how would you have ended up here?"

Then, she placed her hands on either side of his face and drew him closer. Her lips tasted like sleep and mouth and Hope. Maybe, he thought, she was right.