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anothercontinuity2017-07-17 11:05 pm
agnominal) wrote in anothercontinuity2017-07-17 11:05 pm
Red vs Blue pt 2
Anything goes. Leave prompts, pictures, songs, or starters. Cross-canon, AUs, and everything else is a go.
Anything goes. Leave prompts, pictures, songs, or starters. Cross-canon, AUs, and everything else is a go.
He could see the tightness in those fingers, the strength, the barely contained frustration. Tucker could feel his heart being wrung out like a dishtowel; it wasn't fucking fair, Wash shouldn't be here, not like this. It was such bullshit.
And Tucker still felt like it was his fault; that wouldn't ever change, not in the deepening silence. And while some of the others wouldn't agree, he could feel it in the weight of some eyes when they turned towards him. They would never say it, but they didn't have to. The smile started to fade at the corner of his mouth, unable to shed this baggage.
But there was no way he was going to let Wash know how much he still hurt. He didn't need to worry about him; Wash only needed to focus on getting better.
Tucker looked in the bag instead of at his boyfriend. Maybe that was better. "There's some stuff from Caboose in here, too. And food from Grif; I didn't even have to steal it." He pulled out some swiss rolls and set them on the bed. "How are you feeling? Did they tell you how much longer you're stuck in the worst hotel ever?"
And Tucker still felt like it was his fault; that wouldn't ever change, not in the deepening silence. And while some of the others wouldn't agree, he could feel it in the weight of some eyes when they turned towards him. They would never say it, but they didn't have to. The smile started to fade at the corner of his mouth, unable to shed this baggage.
But there was no way he was going to let Wash know how much he still hurt. He didn't need to worry about him; Wash only needed to focus on getting better.
Tucker looked in the bag instead of at his boyfriend. Maybe that was better. "There's some stuff from Caboose in here, too. And food from Grif; I didn't even have to steal it." He pulled out some swiss rolls and set them on the bed. "How are you feeling? Did they tell you how much longer you're stuck in the worst hotel ever?"
How are you feeling? Wash's lips twisted faintly as he shrugged, lifting his hand to gesture briefly in the air in a middling sort of fashion. He'd felt better, for sure, but he was nowhere near needing to remain bed-ridden like they wanted. Already he was aching to be out of here and moving around, just to prove he wasn't...
He wasn't ruined. They hadn't gotten him that bad.
After a moment, he reached for one of the markers, blue, and popped the cap off. He was a little more dexterous now that the pain meds had been reduced and he wasn't in danger of dropping unconscious at a moment's notice, and he quickly scribbled out:
Another week at least. Gonna try for half that if I can.
The sign was promptly tipped in Tucker's direction.
He wasn't ruined. They hadn't gotten him that bad.
After a moment, he reached for one of the markers, blue, and popped the cap off. He was a little more dexterous now that the pain meds had been reduced and he wasn't in danger of dropping unconscious at a moment's notice, and he quickly scribbled out:
The sign was promptly tipped in Tucker's direction.
Tucker read it, then—
“Wash, dude, you were shot in the throat. You don’t have to be an idiot and push yourself.” Half that. Half that, seriously? He nearly died and now he thought he could get out of the hospital in a week? He couldn’t even talk and those bandages around his throat still had to be changed and—
You almost fucking bit it right in front of me!
Snatching up the red marker, he reached over and drew a line through the second sentence. “You stay as long as you need to. I’ve got shit handled, okay? You just get better.”
“Wash, dude, you were shot in the throat. You don’t have to be an idiot and push yourself.” Half that. Half that, seriously? He nearly died and now he thought he could get out of the hospital in a week? He couldn’t even talk and those bandages around his throat still had to be changed and—
You almost fucking bit it right in front of me!
Snatching up the red marker, he reached over and drew a line through the second sentence. “You stay as long as you need to. I’ve got shit handled, okay? You just get better.”
Wash's eyes narrowed at that, and he tugged the red marker back. That's his now, thank you. No take-backs. Reaching for the little dry-eraser attached to the side he quickly swiped away the words before hastily scribbling a reply, and thrusting it back at Tucker emphatically.
I am better. I'm not all the way but I don't need to sit in here for another week!
Lips settled into a rigid line, he stared back at Tucker. He should know, better than most, why he didn't want to spend any more time here than he absolutely had to.
Lips settled into a rigid line, he stared back at Tucker. He should know, better than most, why he didn't want to spend any more time here than he absolutely had to.
Hey! He had bought those, dammit, if by bought one meant stole them from the nurse's station when they weren't looking. Tucker watched Wash scribble, knowing what he was going to say before he even flipped it around, but he eyed the words all the same. Felt that stare on him. Was unmoved by the annoyance.
"Look, I get it, Wash; I know you don't like being here and I know why you don't like being here. Fuck, I don't like you being here, either! I tried sleeping at that hotel last night and--"
And it had been a fucking disaster. Two hours. He managed two hours, which was probably the most he had since Wash wound up in the hospital, and then he was up making coffee for two because he had forgotten how to make it for one anymore. Everything was awful. Everything was fucking wrong.
"I want you to go home, but I know Dr. Grey was talking about blood clots and more tests and shit. So, you know, maybe you should listen to her?" Not that Tucker ever did. Whatever, hypocrisy was okay when he did it. "I can get Junior in here if you want? To visit?"
"Look, I get it, Wash; I know you don't like being here and I know why you don't like being here. Fuck, I don't like you being here, either! I tried sleeping at that hotel last night and--"
And it had been a fucking disaster. Two hours. He managed two hours, which was probably the most he had since Wash wound up in the hospital, and then he was up making coffee for two because he had forgotten how to make it for one anymore. Everything was awful. Everything was fucking wrong.
"I want you to go home, but I know Dr. Grey was talking about blood clots and more tests and shit. So, you know, maybe you should listen to her?" Not that Tucker ever did. Whatever, hypocrisy was okay when he did it. "I can get Junior in here if you want? To visit?"
He didn't need to write a goddamn thing for Tucker to see exactly what he thought of all of that. Every last scrap of it. Yes, the danger was still there, but it shouldn't be taking him this long to recover.
One hand lifted to the bridge of his nose to rub, and something like a disgruntled growl left his throat before his hand dropped. The mention of Junior had him glancing up again, however, his brow knitting faintly.
Does he think Junior seeing him like this is a good idea?
One hand lifted to the bridge of his nose to rub, and something like a disgruntled growl left his throat before his hand dropped. The mention of Junior had him glancing up again, however, his brow knitting faintly.
Does he think Junior seeing him like this is a good idea?
Wrong, Wash; any other person would be in here for months with a fucking trach and one of those microphones you hold to your throat to speak. Tucker knew how lucky they were, how a few centimeters either way and he'd be burying him, not visiting him, but he also knew Wash well enough to know that he would never see it that way. He just wanted out.
And Tucker didn't blame him for that either.
The growl made Tucker blink once, his brow furrowed. He hadn't exactly known Meta beyond fighting (and subsequently stabbing him in the chest) at Sidewinder, but damn if Wash didn't sound a little like--
Nope. Not going there.
Tucker read the look, and that one he understood as if the question was spelled out on his forehead in Sharpie. "Look, I don't fucking know; I thought running into fight those assholes was a good idea-" no he hadn't; he hadn't thought of anything at the time "-and we saw how that turned out. But fuck, you look like you could use your kid in here, and he's going to have to find out sooner or later, right?"
Your kid, Wash. Yours. That was important.
"You know I hate you being here, too, right?"
And Tucker didn't blame him for that either.
The growl made Tucker blink once, his brow furrowed. He hadn't exactly known Meta beyond fighting (and subsequently stabbing him in the chest) at Sidewinder, but damn if Wash didn't sound a little like--
Nope. Not going there.
Tucker read the look, and that one he understood as if the question was spelled out on his forehead in Sharpie. "Look, I don't fucking know; I thought running into fight those assholes was a good idea-" no he hadn't; he hadn't thought of anything at the time "-and we saw how that turned out. But fuck, you look like you could use your kid in here, and he's going to have to find out sooner or later, right?"
Your kid, Wash. Yours. That was important.
"You know I hate you being here, too, right?"
He's right that it won't end. As much as Wash doesn't want people to come after the reds and the blues, it seems they don't have any choice about it. To be chased by the dregs of Freelancer and their past.
Wash wonders if it's him, sometimes, but they were just as involved in the end as he was. He tries not to dwell.
"You make it sound like that's my specialty." As if that isn't. He's lived when so many haven't.
Wash wonders if it's him, sometimes, but they were just as involved in the end as he was. He tries not to dwell.
"You make it sound like that's my specialty." As if that isn't. He's lived when so many haven't.
"How long have you been like this, if you don't mind me asking?" Nothing like a measuring stick to gauge his adjustment against. Maybe it's not the most healthy thing but; he wants to be able to measure...something. This isn't exactly something he can go to a physician about anytime soon.
"Decades. I was turned during the last great war on Earth. Before we even knew of the Covenant's existence." He'd been a soldier then, too. It seemed in his nature to seek out war, the chain of command, anything familiar from his life before.
His maker had known that. Tried to use that to win him back to his side.
Hadn't precisely gone his way, however.
His maker had known that. Tried to use that to win him back to his side.
Hadn't precisely gone his way, however.
That's- a considerable amount of time. Delta pings through the numbers and weighs what very little they know of Locus against what they know of the course of both wars, the military climate during and between both, and what they've seen so far. It's...puzzling, a little worrying, and no goddamn wonder he'd been trying to find something to do with his time.
No war on the horizon, not really, and all this? A way to fill his nights. "...so how long were you aware of the project?"
No war on the horizon, not really, and all this? A way to fill his nights. "...so how long were you aware of the project?"
"The investigation by Chairman Hargrove brought the project to my attention. As keen as he was to unearth the Director's sins, he was less than discreet in the documentation he pulled. It was easy to find you. To seek out what remained to see what would become of you."
Luckily, he'd happened across the right place at the right time, to save at least one of them.
Luckily, he'd happened across the right place at the right time, to save at least one of them.
Wash just nodded at that. Yes, he knew Tucker hated it. You only needed to look at him to see how this was wearing on him too, watching Wash lying in this bed and self-flagellating over how this was all so very clearly his fault. It hung around him in this haunted sort of way and Wash hated it, with every fiber of his being.
He didn't just need to get better for himself. He needed to do it for Tucker. It was the only way ever start letting this go, if he was ever going to.
Quietly, he reached out an arm for Tucker, and some of that frustration eased away. Come here, it's alright.
Even if it wasn't, not really, he'd make it so. Through sheer force of will if need be.
He didn't just need to get better for himself. He needed to do it for Tucker. It was the only way ever start letting this go, if he was ever going to.
Quietly, he reached out an arm for Tucker, and some of that frustration eased away. Come here, it's alright.
Even if it wasn't, not really, he'd make it so. Through sheer force of will if need be.
So, not during. A knot of tension in his shoulders eases somewhat- not that any one person swinging in to put a stop to it would've worked. Hell. It didn't really work when someone from inside the house was trying to change shit. He puts the list of names and sins he could (should) but won't hold against the remaining scragglers away for the moment.
"So how does a vampire ex soldier get into the mailing list of super secret military projects to poke around in the first place?"
"So how does a vampire ex soldier get into the mailing list of super secret military projects to poke around in the first place?"
"The Chairman wanted to hire me. I don't enter contracts lightly, so I researched the man and the projects he was entertaining at the time." One eyebrows arches ever so slightly. "You may be the best at what you do, but I've been able to manage through the years."
He's had to make do, to survive.
He's had to make do, to survive.
"Hire you?" That's- concerning. His attention flicks up from round two of 'digital lock testing module' and sharpens. "What the hell was he doing that he'd need to hire you? What's a businessman need with a merc?"
Nothing good, but- running the numbers on that has Delta combing through what few communications they picked up while on the run.
Nothing good, but- running the numbers on that has Delta combing through what few communications they picked up while on the run.
"...you don't just. Aquire planets-" Delta flicks from one process to another as quick as thought- they can't dig through Charon's business details yet but combing through backlogs of chatter? Doable.
"No. You do not. Particularly when they are inhabited."
And Chorus is inhabited. The population is locked in the midst of a civil war, however, and likely to doom itself in short order. The Chairman, so far as he can see, is simply being impatient on the matter.
And Chorus is inhabited. The population is locked in the midst of a civil war, however, and likely to doom itself in short order. The Chairman, so far as he can see, is simply being impatient on the matter.
"...that doesn't exactly sound good for the people living there." Not his problem, he shouldn't poke at it.
And yet, this is the same fuck that had the Director so paranoid in the past few months. The same guy poking at the corpse of the Project. There may or may not be a connection worth investigating. Maybe.
And yet, this is the same fuck that had the Director so paranoid in the past few months. The same guy poking at the corpse of the Project. There may or may not be a connection worth investigating. Maybe.
"They are currently concerned with killing one another, and little will deter them from that endeavor."
But now his attention is honed in on his fledgling once more. He's concerned for them. He may want to investigate further, or intervene.
That will be...unfortunate.
But now his attention is honed in on his fledgling once more. He's concerned for them. He may want to investigate further, or intervene.
That will be...unfortunate.
"He wanted you to nudge that shit along, didn't he?" One side or the other would leave survivors. Poking both ends would have them wiping themselves out, plausible enough deniability, leaving an empty planet to claim afterward. Some of what he'd picked up before makes sense now.
Locus's eyes narrow slightly, watching as York pieced it together. Naturally. Puzzles were his specialty, were they not? "He did. It would have provided a great deal of money, as well as an abundance of hunting. But I wanted no part in it."
And without someone by his side to convince him otherwise, he turned his back on what could have been a very lucrative contract.
And without someone by his side to convince him otherwise, he turned his back on what could have been a very lucrative contract.
"Doesn't mean he didn't find someone with fewer scruples to get the job done." The goal had been fuck with accounts- but it'd been a nebulous grouping of corporations. Having one in particular to aim at? Works a little better.
"...I believe he might have done so, yes. It would have been more beneficial to have two working in tandem, but he took what he could get."
Locus's eyes shift away as he straightens, moving towards the other end of the room to pour himself a drink. It won't do anything for the hunger, but sometimes old habits worked to some benefit.
Locus's eyes shift away as he straightens, moving towards the other end of the room to pour himself a drink. It won't do anything for the hunger, but sometimes old habits worked to some benefit.
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