( backdated to March 29th )


He's watching a movie with Colin when he sees the name across the screen.

"Who does she play?" Auguste asks, gesturing at it, and Colin looks down at him, smiles and says, "Peggy Carter. The one Captain America's in love with, and one of the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D. She's pretty badass, but, you know, Captain America."

They go back to watching, and while Colin's arm is comfortable around his shoulders and Auguste feels safe and warm tucked against his side, his mind has drifted away from the movie. On the television, figures are running and there are a lot of crashing noises, indicative of some sort of fight; Auguste's eyes are focused on the screen, but his thoughts don't follow.

He's thinking again about what he's thought about for weeks, months now; about his parents, about his lack of family with them and about this little family he's managed to create here, instead. What was it that Chase had said to him?

"Sometimes, the family you make is better than the family you were given."

He doesn't want his name.

Auguste has never liked being called Auguste de Saint-Meran. It's a long, pretentious mouthful, to be sure, but besides that, he hates the connection that still ties him to the parents who didn't care much for him. He carries the name, but he doesn't want to, doesn't want the reminder of their continued presence in his life.

They had never thought of him as anything more than a mild existence; he doesn't care to continue to be associated with them.

But he doesn't know how or what to change it to, if he even should. Auguste considers for a long time, waffles over his decisions, debates back and forth, goes through dozens and dozens of possibilities. It seems almost impossible that he should be able to come up with something that should be so very simple.

Any name, he thinks, as he scrolls down a website, eyes glued to the screen, just any name will do.

But it's surprisingly hard. He can't seem to decide what he wants. Nothing sounds quite right.

Nothing until he's watching that movie with Colin.

It's such a random name, one among dozens. But for some reason, it catches onto Auguste's mind, and he thinks about it later that night, after he's curled up in bed. He thinks of Peggy Carter, and her strength, her commitment. He thinks of Colin, of Nadia, Lorne, and even Chase, for a few minutes, before he banishes the thought of the barista boy away, not wanting to linger on that confusion for too long.

And it has a ring to it, this name that he's found. He doesn't know why, and he doesn't know how, out of all the names he's researched, that this one seems to stick with him, but it does.

The paperwork is extraordinarily tedious and takes several weeks to process completely - but when he signs his name Auguste Atwell for the first time, he feels, with a burst of pleasure and relief, that he is finally his own self.