Work Text:
I’ve tried to come up with reasons why you haven’t responded. The simplest answer is that my messages have yet to reach you, but… is it possible you don’t know it’s me? Have the code name and the shifting voices thrown you off? Would you recognize me if you saw me, catch a glimpse of me beneath the gloves and the goggles? Or has it been too long?
I’d like to think you’d recognize me anywhere, no matter what my hair looked like or how much chainmail I was wearing. But I have been changing, old sport. My hands are calloused beneath my gloves, my face is scarred, and my soul will never be the same as it was so many years ago. I shift. I am everchanging. I am never the same from moment to moment.
I know I told you I’m disguising myself for protection, and I am, but I didn’t tell you the whole truth. The truth is that this disguise is more me than I ever was back when you knew me. Sure, I can never let anyone here know who I truly am, but what if who I truly am is simply a series of disguises? Sometimes I worry - sometimes I wonder that I’ll never know.
The disguise of Radio is a good one, though. You can disguise yourself as yourself when nobody knows who you are.
Anyway, the most important part of this message is this: I am building wings of titanium in an abandoned parking garage - wings that, with luck, will lift me from the roof and carry me far away from the city and the life I used to have.
I know not to have false hope. I am no Icarus. But maybe you’ll see me before I can reach you by radio, and I’ll be soaring out of the shadowsky, starlight glinting off the metal, and you’ll know me at last.