The hidden lot was alive with movement. Inside the VVaywards’ home, the scent of roasting meat, sizzling onions, and fresh bread filled the massive kitchen, mixing with the hum of voices, laughter, and the occasional clank of metal against metal.
Doc leaned against the counter, stirring a thick pot of stew, her piercings catching the glow of the overhead lights. Her black lipstick was slightly smudged from taste-testing, but she didn’t care. Mike stood beside her, sleeves rolled up, chopping vegetables with meticulous precision.
“This place runs on caffeine and chaos,” he muttered, dropping a handful of diced peppers and onions into a frying pan.
“And somehow, we haven’t starved yet,” Doc replied, smirking.
Across the kitchen, Whisper was balancing three trays of fresh bread rolls, her rollerblades gliding effortlessly across the floor as she dodged Knokout, who was trying, and failing, to open a jar of pickles without crushing it.
“Just give it here before you break the damn thing.” Will, perched on the counter with a cigarette barely hanging from his lips, plucked the jar from her hands, popped it open with ease, and tossed it back to her.
“Show-off,” Knokout muttered, rolling her eyes but taking a large bite of a roll anyway.
Raye, watching from the doorway, leaned against the frame with her arms crossed. Her dark eyes flickered over to Will, then away.
“Shouldn’t we be watching our backs instead of playing house?” she asked, but there was no bite in her voice.
Suicyde King, wiping his gauntlets clean, chuckled. “Even soldiers gotta eat.”
Setting the Table
By the time everything was ready, the long wooden table in the main dining area was overflowing with food. Mashed potatoes, roasted chicken, fresh greens, bread, soups, and whatever else they could scrape together.
Captain strolled in last, adjusting Her monocle as she took her seat at the end of the table. Her green hair still smelled faintly of engine grease.
“Well, well, a feast for the weary,” she mused, grabbing a roll and tossing it into the air before catching it with her teeth.
Mike clapped his hands together. “Alright, everyone sit. Now.”
Will was already sinking into his chair, pulling a plate toward himself while Whisper took the spot next to him. Knokout sat at the far end, keeping her distance, but the smirk on her face said she was enjoying herself.
Raye hesitated before finally sitting across from Will, her fingers drumming lightly on the table. She locked eyes with him for a brief second before looking away.
Doc sat beside Mike, her gaze scanning the table, a moment of quiet gratitude settling into her chest.
For a group of outcasts, fighters, and survivors, this was the closest thing to a family dinner they’d ever get.
A Moment of Peace
For a while, there was nothing but the sound of eating, drinking, and occasional bickering.
Will reached for the last piece of roasted chicken at the same time as Whisper, and their hands brushed. She gave him a look, half warning, half amusement.
“I saved your life once,” she teased. “Let me have this one.”
Will chuckled, withdrawing his hand. “Fine, fine. One freebie.”
Across the table, Raye smirked. “Soft,” she muttered, just loud enough for Will to hear.
Captain, watching it all, took a slow sip from Her drink, the faint glow of her monocle reflecting the candlelight.
“You lot are absolutely ridiculous,” she said with a smirk, “but I suppose that’s why we’re still standing.”
Doc let out a deep breath, pushing her plate away slightly.
“Just for tonight, no missions, no fights, no past,” she said, looking around at them.
Mike gave her a small nod. “Just us.”
For a little while, the world outside didn’t exist.
Just a group of warriors, misfits, and survivors… sharing a meal.