mcsummers:
*The person who gives the best prompt and/or writes the best fic for this photoset will get it reblogged on this account*
“So you’re saying that thing that attacked my lab… It was an extraterrestrial.”
“Yes,” Agent Ay nods.
The corners of his mouth perk the slightest bit. Over four years doing this job, he hasn’t heard any pedestrian use that word without pronouncing it wrong. Until Hank McCoy, that is.
Then again, Hank McCoy isn’t an ordinary pedestrian.
“Mr. McCoy -“
“Doctor,” the man corrects without missing a beat, like he’s been doing it for a while.
“Right, of course,” says Ay. “Dr. McCoy. There’s something you should -“
“It killed them,” Hank says. “My frie- My colleagues. That - That thing killed them.”
Agent Ay takes in the man’s disheveled appearance. The picture Zed showed him portrayed a much more together person. Tragically unhip, maybe, with well-combed hair, unfashionably thick glasses, and a flannel-and-sweater combo that aged him a good ten years. Now, the sweater discarded after getting stained with bug juice and the glasses lost somewhere in the melee, Hank looks something approximating his own age. Like a scared twenty-one year old. The way Ay looked the first time he saw an alien, back when he was still Alex. Back when there was still a Scott…
This may not be the best time for Hank to learn the truth, but if Ay’s going to protect him he has no choice.
“Listen, Hank,” Ay says, reaching across the greasy diner table to touch the man’s arm comfortingly. (And not because he’s been fixated on that freckle on Hank’s neck for the last ten minutes. Not at all.) “I know this is difficult. But we need to get you out of here. Back to MIB Headquarters. Your life is in serious danger.”
“But why?” Hank demands. “Why me? My research is innocuous. Why would these aliens, as you so call them, possibly want me?”
Taking a deep breath, Ay answers, “Because, Hank. You’re an alien, too.”
(I don’t know, something about Lucas Till in that suit, the whole thing just came to me. Maybe I’ll write more later, but I need to get ready for the Gotye concert or my husband will kill me.)
