Freelancer North [Dakota] (for_family) wrote in elsewhere_rpg, @ 2017-10-14 23:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | red vs blue: north, red vs blue: tex, red vs blue: york, tags for admin: year 01 |
Who: Freelancers North Dakota & New York (and later, Texas)
What: York is a lumberjack and needs a shave.
When: Oct. 14th, Afternoon
Where: Their room at the Inn, then outside
Rating: PG-13
Status: Log - Complete
New York had not shaved in two months, two weeks, and five days. Before then, he’d been using an electric razor to maintain his stubble.. But the electric razor had broken and so he’d just.. Stopped. Eh. And he’d gone from scruffy to bearded within the span of two weeks. Now? He had a nice, full beard, which was more auburn than his dirty-blonde hair. York didn’t care, it was sort of a ‘fuck you’ to Freelancer, who’d insisted York remain clean-shaven (why the fuck did Wyoming get a moustache!?). He’d been enjoying himself. Although.. Even the Golden Boy had to admit that it was starting to get annoying, but was unwilling to do anything about it. It was too thick now, he said, and impossible to shave. So instead of shaving, he’d just start to braid it when it got too long. Like a biker. Yep. That’d distract from his missing eye and the scar across his face. Even Harry had given him some light ribbing about the state of his facial hair. What?! He liked it! ... Okay, maybe he didn’t, maybe he was just too lazy to do anything about it. Don’t judge him. Currently lounged on his back on the bed in their tiny room, he was tossing a ball into the air and catching it, clearly working on his depth perception, (Delta clearly not helping..) as the ball hit him in the face every now and then. Fuck. His armor was neatly piled into the corner with North’s, pieces tucked in against one another and mixed, mingled, shin pads tucked into shin pads, so it all fit nicely. A beautiful mix of gold against the deep purple. Honestly, it worried him a bit that Texas was still out there, lurking around in her armor, unwilling to come around and be social, but he hadn’t brought it up. Texas was her own woman and nothing either one of them said could change her. But, he was really thinking they ought to go have a talk with her. “Ow-- shit.” The ball impacted with his face again. *** The Spartans were pack animals, by design. Being stuffed into tight spaces with multiple bodies was heaven in a closet… for the two soldiers. Maybe it was more uncomfortable for the Elric brothers (North had noted that Ed got up and left quite often when he thought everyone was asleep). How did he know? Because Theta stayed awake late into the night when he was anxious (he never really ‘slept’ but he did go silent for North’s sake, usually) and North had a tendency to stay awake with him until his AI calmed down. Sometimes they walked, sometimes he just laid there on the floor with his body pressed to York’s and talked to Theta who did his best to whisper in the night. But that was honestly neither here nor there, it was simply to say the room was packed more often than it was empty and both the Spartans loved it either way. When North stepped back inside their shared room he looked around then eyed the sole inhabitant, askance. Ed was gone (figured!) and Al had run off to see General Mustang for something, leaving the other Spartan and North alone. Having roomed together for a while now, North wasn’t surprised by anything York did, ever. He laughed when the ball dropped onto the other blonde’s face. “If you wanted a black eye, there’s a faster way to accomplish that in the shape of Texas,” North supplied. The two of them inside the tiny room, they looked even bigger and heavier than they really were. “I was gonna ask if you’ve eaten yet, but clearly you have,” York’s beard had evidence stashed inside it. He looked like some kind of wild man from a glassed planet. *** Blinking, York reached up and rubbed at his beard, then laughed. “That was breakfast.” He admitted, then laughed harder and rolled onto his side, reaching a long arm down to grab the ball that had landed on the floor, then he was settled on his back again and tossing that ball into the air. “Are you jealous of my manly beard, North Dakota? I’d challenge you to a beard-growing contest, but I’ve clearly already won.” A teasing smile was sent his way, but his free hand lifted and he curled his fingers some to indicate his friend should come over and stand closer, so he didn’t have to divide his attention between the ball and the blonde. “We need to go out some time, take a look around this place, just the two of us.” Without armor. Try to get a lay of the land, visit some of the places. Maybe check out that brothel. What? He was curious. He’d heard there was a ... man’s club? It was a nice word for a strip club. York had never seen ‘normal’ women mostly naked. He’d never seen any woman dance. It wasn’t so much that he was interested in getting worked up, or getting off.. More, he was genuinely curious. They didn’t exactly have those sorts of places. They’d been fighting a war, their planets were all devastated and war-ravaged, if they hadn’t been entirely glassed. Strip clubs weren’t a big priority. *** North obliged, stepping closer but not sitting down (they’d discovered their first day there that North and York’s combined weight was enough to break the frame of the bed, forcing Al and Ed to fix it if any of the boys wanted to sleep comfortably). He stood just within York’s peripheral, watching his friend toss the ball, Theta timing the pace before North snapped a hand out and caught it on its descent. He automatically lifted it well above his head. Being taller than everyone had its advantages. And it would never not be funny to watch the shorter people scramble for things, especially when those shorter people were York and South. “I’m not being seen with you in public with your face looking like that,” he insisted. “You’re starting to look like Bigfoot,” who North had learned from the wizard, Harry, were genuine supernatural creatures in the world. Crazy, huh? North had tried not to look too eager when he’d asked Harry to explain more. “You’ve got to be growing a colony of lice in there.” *** “Hey--” He was sitting up as his ball was snatched, then he was on his feet and reaching up, but he already knew he couldn’t reach. Sure, he was only five inches shorter than North (which put the top of his head at right about that blonder blonde’s nose. But, with his extra height in body came extra length in arms.. So the five inches in body became seven inches in total height with his arm stretched up like that, and there was no way York was reaching it without jumping. He refused to jump like a child. Instead, he bumped his chest purposely up against North’s and one hand grasped his forearm, pulling down, while the other hand went reaching for the ball, and it’d quickly become a struggle of strength, with both Spartans who had biceps the size of Ed’s waist. When Titans clashed, worlds trembled. Luckily, this wasn’t any sort of real fight. It was a grinning York struggling to get his grain-filled, soft, squishy ball back. “I don’t look like bigfoot, I look like James Bond.” Who, both were convinced, had been a real person. History was so fucked up. No one ever got it right. “And I’ve named all my lice, thank you very much, they’re not amused by your dislike of them and are planning a massive offensive into that pretty blonde head of yours.” Bumping further into him, in an attempt to catch North off-balance, York would attempt to body-bump him all the way to the wall so he could pin him there and keep him from using the strength in his legs, which York would be able to, if he wasn’t confined the way he was trying to do to North. *** North laughed when York prompted their struggle. It was very like every tussle he’d ever had with South, with a lot less kicking and punches aimed into whatever soft spots existed on a Spartan. She played dirty like every female Spartan in existence. “You are so gross,” he told York, laughing again when the shorter man chest bumped him, then hip checked him, forcing the taller Spartan to take a step for balance, though as he did he also lowered the hand holding the ball, bringing it in close against his chest like a linebacker, lowering his shoulder to brace against York’s impact. Then, taking a page out of South’s dirty plays playbook, he reached up with his other hand and grabbed hold of York’s beard. See? If you didn’t have it there, York, North wouldn’t have a handy facehold on your facehair. His own face was neatly shaven (though his blonde hair was longer than he usually kept it). North grinned. “Do you yield?” he asked, tugging on it. *** York’s hair had begun to grow far too long as well, his buzz-cut of less than half an inch having grown out to a decent inch or so of length. It even flopped a little in places. He’d kept the back neatly trimmed up, though. He’d been thinking about gel.. But he didn’t care enough for that. He wasn't trying to impress anyone. And that was a luxury they’d never had before. When his beard was grasped, he let out an unexpected yelp-- he’d never felt that before (he’d never had his hair pulled, either.. He’d never had hair!)-- and did his best to nod his agreement. Yeah, yeah, he yielded. Cause he certainly couldn’t talk, it meant his jaw would have to move and he was too shocked to try and move his jaw closed to speak, so the nod down and up again would have to do. Only when North let go did he reach up to rub at his jaw. “That was dirty..” He nudged his shoulder into North’s-- it was pretty hard, hard enough it’d have laid anyone else out flat.. But for the Spartans? It was a love tap. “It’s too thick to do anything with now..” A hand rubbed along the scruff at his neck. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered shaving that. He really did look like a wild man. *** Sibling privilege. That’s what it was, when North pulled out the most random tricks against York and even Wash. He knew exactly how to be an irritating big brother, because he was one by birth. He knew all the secrets to winning tussles. So he laughed when York yielded, even though the other man had actually yelped in surprise, and then reached up to ruffle that slightly darker head of wild hair. Still laughing at the nudge, North punched York on the shoulder and then dangled the ball out for him to take. Before he jerked his hand away again. Winking a pale blue eye, North tossed the ball back to York, “Head’s up,” since his friend was mostly blind and lacked a lot of depth perception. Nothing wrong with giving him a little warning before he got pelted in the face by flying objects. “You can’t keep growing it out, York, you don’t shower often enough and it’s smelling horrible.” Not exactly, but North could lie a little, see? “Let me shave it.” *** The ball was chucked at him and Delta-- kindly-- adjusted for him and he was able to catch it deftly. He turned the ball in his fingers for a few moments, staring down at it, before he looked back up at North. The smile had disappeared from his face as he thought, though it was brief. He was thinking about that ball. About the head’s up North had issued. A year ago, the taller blonde never would have given a heads up, he wouldn’t have needed to. Silly, really. York didn’t even actually know what his scar and eye looked like, his vision was blurry enough in his right eye that he couldn’t make out the details. Hell, he couldn’t even make out North’s face clearly. Sometimes, he was worried that he was forgetting what the other Spartan looked like, outside of being a pale face with blue eyes, a dazzling white smile, and hair so blonde it nearly looked white in some lights. He was distracted from the thoughts, though, by the suggestion he smelled and a smirk covered his face. “If you let me shower with you, maybe I wouldn’t get bored in there alone, and I’d shower more often.” A joke back for his friend, before the offer came. North would shave him? Really? No, he hadn’t used a real razor since he’d lost vision in his left eye. He’d always used an electric one. He’d tried a real one and had actually cut himself pretty badly. Bad enough he’d bled for half an hour. He hadn’t tried since. “You don’t have to do that, buddy, I can man up and shave my own damn face.” He laughed and rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. “But where will the lice live? Al would probably hate me for destroying their home.” *** Oh, no. North didn’t like the suddenly pensive look on York’s face, the way his stupid smile fell and his good eye looked defeated. York didn’t know what his face looked like, but North did, and the taller man was well versed in those expressions. He furrowed his brow, reached out to curl his fingers along the back of York’s neck and dragged the other man in as he leaned down to touch their foreheads together. They stayed that way a minute, until York ran his mouth and then North laughed again. “If you didn’t hog the water, I would,” he replied. “Tell you what, if Al’s so worried, we’ll move them into his pillow case and he can keep them for himself. With all that hair on your face I’m sure we can stuff another case and make a whole new pillow.” Pretty gross if you thought about it, but what Spartan hadn’t slept on weird things before? (Not facial hair, at least). He smiled encouragingly. “It’s no big deal, York, I’ll go get the razor from the barmaid,” that’s what they were called, right? “Come on, you’ll feel like a new man.” He elbowed his friend playfully. *** Rolling up his shoulders, York tossed the ball once more, then smirked. “Yeah, fine. But only to give you the satisfaction of ridding me of the only thing in my life that brings me joy.” Yeah right, even Roy was surely aware the beard was bothering York, who had bitched about it being hot with a beard, and had often rubbed a hand along his neck and complained that his neck was itchy, and had steadfast refused to shave, damnit. But Lord, did he want to now. He was done with it. The Spite-Beard needed to go away. He’d told the Director ‘fuck you’ via his beard long enough. “Thanks, man.” He couldn’t even bring himself to joke about it a second time, he was far too relieved at the prospect of the thing going away. Finally. “I’ll grab us a bowl of water.” Because they couldn’t take up an entire bathroom, so a bowl of water would have to do. Of course, finding a modern shaving razor wouldn’t be easy, it was far more likely North would end up with a barber’s straight blade, but York would trust him with a machete against his throat, so there was no issue there. And soon enough, he had the water, and some soap, and was settled in the chair near the window where there was plenty of light, tossing his ball lazily. *** “I’m sure you’ll find something else to obsess over in short order, York,” North replied candidly. But then they were in motion, blade collected, heated water found, soap enough to lather up York’s face and then both Spartans were crammed into the small corner with light shining through a grimy window. North dried his hands on a borrowed hand towel, taking up the straight blade with a sure grip. With York sitting, he was even shorter than North, who had to bend down to see properly else he cut his friend’s throat. Their lives together were a series of trust exercises, none of the other Spartans had such a blindly believing relationship (except North and South, after all), so York didn’t flinch and North didn’t hesitate when he lined up the blade and carefully began shaving away the thick hair. There was no rush, North certainly enjoyed the time spent, the routine motions, back and forth between the water bowl, a hand towel, and the skin of his friend’s face and throat. Harry was right when he claimed there was something fundamentally special about touching another human being. The connection between one soul and another. North was methodical, patient, and happily engaged in the work, slowly cleaning away the hair and watching his friend’s youthful visage slowly make its appearance again. He stopped looking like a wild man from the inside of Jumanji and looked more like himself. North wasn’t perfect, by any means, but it was enough. *** It was good enough for York, who would relax and help to tip his head this way or that, while his one blue eye remained settled on North’s face and the concentration there. His eye jerked a little now and then, indicating Delta was having a conversation with him, but York remained entirely still and silent, unwilling to cause his best friend to harm him unintentionally. But once North was done, York would lean to wipe his face off with the clean, damp towel they had, then grinned widely up at the taller blonde. “How do I look?” Young. At least ten years had dropped off of him. He no longer looked like he could be North’s father. It did, however, draw all that attention right back to his eye and the scar there, that was no longer partly covered by a beard. But, really, the eye suited him. He looked like the Spartan he was. They all had scars. Holding up a hand, he’d wait for North to grasp it and help him to his feet before he nodded. “Thanks, buddy. I feel a lot lighter.” Haha, yeah, because he’d had ten pounds of hair on his face. “I think General Mustang’ll be pretty happy to see I don’t look like a wild man anymore.” A hand lifted to rub over his smooth jaw. *** “Ugly as ever, my friend,” North quipped. But it was no hard feelings, they both teased each other constantly about who was more handsome. It was a toss up, they were both fairly rugged, blonde haired and blue eyed. Hell, a number of women around Elsewhere had made advances on each of them already (North was oblivious, he’d thought they were just being nice). He helped his friend to his feet, took the damp towel from him and wiped away stray traces of soapy water from his cheek. There. He didn’t notice the scar on York’s face anymore. Okay. He did, but it was just a feature now like his nose and the false eye, nothing that tripped him up. Not like it used to, in the beginning. Now it was just a part of York. “Forget the General, I’m happy you don’t look like a wild man anymore. Now I don’t have the urge to hunt you with a spear,” he said and chuckled lightly. “Now go shower. You still stink.” He winked. *** “You could hunt me with a spear.. You’d never catch me, but you could try all you want.” He nudged at his friend again, but rolled his eye and would head to the basket where he and North threw their clothes. He’d snag a fresh shirt and pants, and some boxer briefs and would head out of the room. A shower sounded great, his face felt itchy and a good wash would be perfect. “I’ll be bored.” York reminded him with a glance back once he reached the doorway. “Not going to keep me company?” His eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t wait for an answer before he was slipping into the hall and heading a few feet down it to the bathroom, which he turned into easily. A shower sounded amazing. They hadn’t had luxuries like showers back home. Not often-- not until they got to Project Freelancer, after the war. And only when not on week-long missions. It was something York took advantage of as often as he could, and would continue to. Of course, he wouldn’t be in the shower long, he was, after all, a soldier. *** “Oh, next time,” North promised, grinning and shaking his head. True enough, he didn’t follow York out because he stayed behind long enough to clean up their mess (sweeping up hair and disposing of it), returning the straight blade to its owner, emptying the bowl of dirty water, and figuring out what to do with the provided linens. Speaking of which, that did send North into the washroom, because York needed a towel. They weren’t always given this level of luxury, so there was no reason not to take full advantage of it while they could. Towels were nice. They weren’t thick and soft, but they were still a given. It was good. After that, he waited for York to reappear. It wasn’t even awkward, waiting for him, Lord knew they’d seen every single Spartan they were trained with as naked as the day they were born. Not a single one of them was shy or the least bit modest. They’d never had a reason to be. *** It didn’t take long. York ended up in their room again not a full five minutes later, smelling like cheap soap and still mostly wet. He’d dried himself as best he could then gotten dressed. So that t-shirt, which was already a little tight (like he liked them), clung to him like a second skin, and the pants were damp in strange places. York didn’t mind. He was still toweling off his hair when he sauntered back in, and sent North a wide smile. Well, look at that. What a difference a shave made. “Hey, man, thanks for the towel.” He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten one.. But then he’d gotten out, and there it was, just waiting for him. North was a lifesaver. “Still enjoying my choice of baby-faced-ness?” He palmed his cheek, then ran his hand along his jaw as if to emphasise. “I look amazing no matter what.” He patted his own cheek briefly, then dropped his hand and moved to hang the towel up on the back of the door to let it dry. Fresh towels cost extra and Riza had refused to let the one-eyed man have a fresh one each shower, just because it ‘felt nice’. York hadn’t put up too much of a fight, he’d been in far worse positions before, after all. *** North looked up when York entered, he’d been flipping through their strangely connected network for messages from Georgia while he waited for his friend. Blue eyes met a blue eye and North smiled. “Look at that, nice and new. Now you look like you,” he said, setting his tablet aside. He often left it up and running, it wasn’t as if he was hiding anything from the others after all. You didn’t have a strong sense of privacy in the military anyway. What did North care if any of his friends read his communications? He spent most of his time talking to them anyway. So North pushed himself up from the bed, pat York’s shoulder and smiled more. “You wanna have a look around now? Maybe we should go find Texas and tell her to come take a shower, too.” She’d be even more wild out there on her own, left to her thoughts and her worries. For some reason she and Harry had been awkward around each other. North didn’t pry. It wasn’t in his nature to. It didn’t mean he wasn’t damned curious though. *** “Yeah, that sounds like a pretty good idea.” He admitted, toweling off his hair a bit more (leaving it to spike everywhere) before letting the towel hang from the hook entirely, and finding some socks. He plopped down onto the bed, wincing when it squeaked, but not panicking because it didn’t break, and he’d tug those socks on, and the boots he’d managed to find that fit him. Then, all attention was back onto North. “She and Harry have been acting really strange around one another.. I mean, they had been. I haven’t seen them near one another in days. It’s like she’s trying to stay as far away from that church as possible, man. I tried to ask Harry what was wrong and he just about bit my head off. I wish I knew what was going on. York did pry. It was in his nature to. It didn’t mean he’d suck his friend into his insane ways, though. He wanted to find Harry and demand to know what was going on-- the wizard had even been a stranger to him, and that made York’s stomach turn. He didn’t want to lose Harry. Had he done something wrong? The very thought had his eye darkening some as he considered it, trying to pick out what he’d done to make the wizard think of him as an enemy. Fuck. *** “Who knows? They’re both pretty weird people,” North’s ideas generally settled on letting things cool down before you rushed in to poke them with sticks. He didn’t know Harry as well as York did, but it stressed him out to see his friend be so anxious. York was anxious, too. It was right there in his bright blue eye and the furrow his brows. In his sudden change of mood. Harry was distant and that meant York didn’t know what to do. “Hey, buddy, it’s okay. Everyone’s just trying to settle in here, right?” he said, offering an encouraging smile. “That’s all, things are stressful for everyone. No one expected us to be dropped into a new dimension. It was traumatic for all of us. Just give them some time, Harry will come around.” He almost promised. But there were some things not even North could say. ‘I promise’ was something he’d learned meant nothing around the same time all the other five year olds did. I promise. “Come on, let’s go find Texas and see what’s going on with her, maybe that’ll answer your questions about what’s going on with Harry. Maybe they broke up.” That would explain their behavior anyway. Right? What did either of these two know about relationships though. *** “Breaking up would imply they’d been a couple, man.” And they weren’t, not to York’s knowledge. Maybe Harry had said it a few times, but the blonde had been sure he was joking. Harry would have told him if he and Tex were actually girlfriend and boyfriend, right? Right. “And I’m fine, North.. You don’t have to coddle me.” He recognized when his friend was trying to make him feel better and he suddenly felt like maybe North was worried about him for some reason. Well, he didn’t have to be. Agent New York was fine, just like he always was. His hands pressed into his back pockets and he turned his head to look at the door behind him. “Come on.” Pushing up to his feet, he’d test out those new shoes, then head for the door. North was right, they should go talk to Texas. Maybe she could shed some light on the situation. It wasn’t like the relationship-challenged North and York were going to make heads or tails of the situation without some sort of an insider helping them. *** North shrugged. He didn’t know, whenever he and Texas spoke in the past it was never about her sex life or her love life. Or any aspect of her life that dealt with anything personal. He knew as much about Texas as General Mustang did Lieutenant Hawkeye. Which was to say, nothing at all. “I know you are,” fine that was. He agreed to the idea anyway. North followed York out, locking the door and closing it behind them. “I just worry about you,” bingo, York, you hit it right on the head. Your friend cared, surprise! “I don’t like when you’re upset.” He didn’t like being unable to fix it. York was the caretaker, but North was everyone’s older brother and in being the older brother, it was his job to look after them whenever they failed to look after themselves. And York definitely never took himself into consideration when he made his decisions. “Hey, do you know where Texas even is? I haven’t laid eyes on her since Ed went out to get Al,” she’d come back with the boys and then disappeared again shortly after. What was going on? *** “I’m not upset.” He sounded like a teenager. That had been pathetic. Shut up, York. “Come on, North.” He bumped into his friend as they headed out, closing and locking the door behind them. Once outside and he was questioned about Tex, York nodded his slightly damp head. “Yeah, Delta’s been keeping tabs on her location. She isn’t that far away.. About five clicks East.” No ground at all for the long-legged Spartans, who could run and turn it into a game if they wanted. York hadn’t laid eyes on her either.. But he had ‘a’ i on her. Hah. Get it? Yeah, he was funny. He knew. He cracked himself up. Once the pair finally arrived at the edge of the town, Delta would pinpoint her location and Theta would be able to pick her up, too. As they approached the woman in the dark armor, there was no helping it, Delta appeared between the two tall men and the woman who now towered over York, and stood the same height as North. “York.” Delta spoke up, illuminating the woods around them. “It is very good to see you again.” Now, North wouldn’t know that something was very wrong-- not at first. York did, though, because Delta wasn’t projecting himself, and he wasn’t saying those words. The look of disbelief on the darker blonde’s face would have to be the indicator-- and then there were two of the green AI, which would seal the understanding in. “You are Fragment AI Designation Delta, of Project Freelancer?” York’s AI would ask. “Indeed I am. You are me from a previous time. It is good to see you with Agent New York.” The other Delta offered up. And there it was. Undeniable proof. The Golden Boy was dead. “York. North.” Tex’s greeting was bland and offered no explanation. *** North hadn’t spoken to Texas since he’d arrived, really. She’d told him about York’s death and he had shied away from her after she answered his questions. Even so, reading that your best friend was dead was still not as harsh as being given undeniable proof. When they found Texas and Delta appeared, North stood impassively for the last few seconds of denial allowed to him, and then the other form of Delta appeared and that look on York’s face was the punch to the gut. He turned his head just slightly to watch York’s reaction, stepping in close to him to be there as he always was. He’d always been the last strength for their strongest member, so that York could crumble when he needed to. He was there just in case York couldn’t hold himself up now. He didn’t know why York wouldn’t be able to, but whatever the case… he wouldn’t--what? Let anything happen to him? York was a dead man. They all knew they’d end up dead somehow someway before they turned 30, but knowing and Knowing were different things entirely. North’s chest felt tight, he reached up to grip York’s shoulder. Theta appeared, he paused and looked between both versions of Delta. “What---oh,” understanding dawned on him. “... Hi.” And then he was gone again. North would check on him later, for now he hadn’t taken his eyes off the Golden Soldier. *** There was a brief flicker of sadness that crossed over York’s face-- it was only an instant, then it was gone and replaced by a surprisingly genuine smile. “Hey, D.” He came a few steps closer to be nearer to the older version of his AI. “What’s it like riding around in Tex? Bet it’s a lot different than having me, right?” “Agent Texas has no sense of humor that I have found.” Delta offered up. “She has mood swings brought on by the remnants of Omega, and does not share your taste in music. I find it disappointing, as I have truly come to appreciate Beyonce’s range of vocal talent.” Imagine that. “How long has Agent New York been dead?” York’s AI prompted, though he couldn’t manage to sound curious. He never would. “For nearly eight months now. I remained with him until he passed to ensure he was not alone.” One AI assured the other. “Thank you for that, I would not have wanted to leave him.” “I think that’s enough. Why don’t you retire now, Delta.” Tex pushed away from the tree she’d been leaning against, straightening up as her Delta vanished. The Delta over York’s shoulder remained put. The shortest of the three of them (right now, anyway, as Tex towered over him in her armor) turned his head to look at North with a smile. “Why don’t you check on Little-T, make sure he’s okay?” He imagined the AI needed his friend right now. There was no need to stand around and watch York like a hawk. *** North didn’t know whether York’s response hurt more or helped more. He seemed so casual and sure of himself and the situation that it was hard to look at him in anything other than admiration. Agent New York was damned strong. All the Spartans were, but North had to admit he wouldn’t have held himself together so well if it had been South he was learning about. Himself? Who knew. He didn’t put himself on high priority anymore than the others did. But watching York’s exchange between the dual Deltas, North had to lower his eyes and bring himself back under control. They were all trained in self discipline, in shutting off emotional responses because they couldn’t afford to be overwhelmed by them. They could remain rational and dispassionate in even the worst scenarios. Internally North was falling apart, but when York looked at him and smiled, North looked as calm as ever. Always the tempered, collected one, he half smiled and nodded slightly. York was giving him an out, he recognized a dismissal when he saw one. He wanted a moment alone with Texas and didn’t want North to overhear. That was fine. “I’ll yell if anything tries to eat me,” he said, and then he stepped away to let them have their privacy, Theta appearing in North’s upraised hand as he always did. York was right, Theta needed his friend, and North needed a moment to pull himself together. *** York and Tex would stand there together, alone, for a good ten minutes, while York glanced once in a while back at North and Theta, balanced in his palm. Eventually, Tex would walk off, leaving York behind to watch her go. He eventually turned back to face the taller blonde again, and if North hadn’t come back to stand near him, he’d head for North. When the two came close together again, York pressed the side of his body up against North’s chest-- it was the way the two of them always slept, with North lower, on his side, and pressed in against York, who slept on his back most nights. Either his back or stomach.. But most often his back. “We should take a walk.” He told his friend with an eerie sort of calm, his good cheer having faded some. *** North had managed to calm and reassure Theta in those ten minutes, bringing the little AI down from his anxiety and sorrow. It was remarkable how many emotions the little guy could feel, for being a fragment. Sometimes his human-like personality worked against him, if he were more like Delta he wouldn’t be so prone to upset. But North liked him just the way he was. The longer they were together, the more Theta grew. North was proud of him. In his peripheral (because North hadn’t and would never go so far that he couldn’t keep eyes on his unit) he saw Texas depart and watched York turn toward him. They met halfway and when the Spartans pressed close, the taller blonde immediately wrapped his arms around the shorter, touching his cheek to that stupidly long hair. “Okay,” he said, but he didn’t move to begin walking at all. Not yet. He wanted a minute. A very long minute, where he and York could just stand there. *** York tilted his head towards North, to rest his temple against the taller man’s chin, letting out a slow breath. Both of his hands came up to curl around that impressive bicep, as if he planned to do a chin-up on it, but he just held, because in this position, there was no other way to return the embrace but to hold onto that bicep. Minutes passed. Eventually, the shorter man lifted his chin so he could look up at North. “Let’s walk. D, can you give us a few minutes?” The answer was unheard, but Delta closed himself off. York, for the moment, was alone. Clearly, he expected North to do the same, to talk alone, just the two of them, for a short while. *** Drawing comfort from each other where they could, North was reluctant to break apart, but he allowed York to dictate the moment they should. He gathered himself together, put to rights, and turned to fall into place beside his friend, not going far enough that their shoulders wouldn’t touch. “Theta, log off,” North mirrored the request for Delta to lockdown, “We won’t be long,” he almost promised him, but couldn’t in that moment anymore than he could promise York earlier. Theta acknowledged the request and shut down. The eerie silence grew louder. Together, the soldiers walked onward into nothing. “That’s a lot to take in,” he said quietly, blue eyes finding York’s somber face. *** But that smile returned once North announced it was a lot to take in. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t surprised. I can’t say I was disappointed, either. I’ve been dead since I left Project Freelancer, my body just hadn’t gotten the memo yet.” He’d been alone. Utterly and totally alone. It was something North had never been in his entire life. But York had been hiding out on a dead, glassed world, without another living soul for hundreds of thousands of miles, for over half a year. And North had never come after him. Wash had never come after him. Texas had. Now, he hadn’t really wanted his friends to show up, he wanted them to be happy wherever they were.. He knew North was with South and that Wash was still probably safe with what was left of Freelancer.. He didn’t have an AI, after all, so Maine wasn’t trying to kill him. York had been left. It was better that way, better him than them. Delta was safe. Tex was safe. He hoped to whatever God people prayed to in the olden days, that North and South Dakota were safe. He knew now that they weren’t. North had a right to know. “Are you alright, Buddy?” *** North listened, he supposed he couldn’t find fault in any of the Spartan’s responses to death. It might seem macabre but when any one of them told you that you (or one of them) were already dead, it was really to acknowledge the fact they already anticipated the end. Maybe not the why or when, just that it would inevitably be their time and there was nothing to scream or cry about. It was just the way things were. The hurt came for those that were left behind. York quietly accepted his death. North did not. Like the wizard had said, pain was for the living, the dead didn’t feel it. North pushed a hand through his hair, “I guess so,” he said, then stopped before he said honestly. “No, not really, but what can I do about it? ... she told me about you when she and I both got here,” he admitted. “There just wasn’t a good time to sit and talk about it.” They’d naturally prioritized everyone else and saw them settled before they’d ever once stopped to worry about themselves. Man, they were screwed up. *** North already knew. He just hadn’t time to tell York. York wouldn’t let that happen this time. Slowing their walk, he paused and turned to face North. His hands came up, caught hold of that pale face and held him there. “Tex says you were killed less than twelve hours after me. She says South escaped.” She hadn’t told York that just a month or two later, South had been killed. North didn’t need to know his sister had died, or that she’d been the one to get him killed. No one needed to know that. The shorter blonde kept North’s face trapped there, held stationary so his gaze couldn’t escape. “Guess you couldn’t live without me, huh?” He joked lightly. *** They stopped, North met that solid blue gaze with his own, his lips parted in mild surprise. He seemed confused by the words, not understanding anything York had just said. He died? Oh. Okay. Just like that. Like they’d always knew it would be. No fanfare. Just the cessation of life. The confusion wasn’t because of that, though the news did suck. No one wanted to know they were dead even though everyone already knew they would die one day. South escaped, that was the good part. Great. But- His pale brows furrowed. “Who is going to look after her?” York didn’t have that answer, of course, but she was always North’s first concern. Always. If he was dead then she was alone in the world and she’d never been alone anymore than North was. She’d do something stupid. She’d be angry and volatile and unchecked. Who was going to watch over her and be there when she needed it? Who was going to fix her mistakes? Why the hell had he died on her? He was her older brother, he was supposed to be there for her through everything. Oh, damn, she was going to be so broken. All of that flickered through his eyes in the length he stared at York. North didn’t know when he raised his hands, he’d spiraled off into his instant worry for his sister’s wellbeing that he hadn’t paid any mind to the fact he’d settled his hands over York’s. He blinked and looked at him. They were both dead men. Twelve hours. What the fuck had happened? North exhaled a breath. “Damn.” *** “Wash.” York answered almost immediately. “Wash has her. He found the two of you, he’s with South now. Wash is still alive.” And York looked so very pleased for it. “Come on, buddy, he’s gonna take care of her.” A thumb rubbed along North’s high cheekbone and he stepped in closer, pulling his friend’s face down a bit so he could press their foreheads together. “South’s okay. Wash has her.” Reminded again, those two mismatched eyes closing down as he just let himself be close to North. One of his best friends was dead. But another was alive. It was a bittersweet moment. “And I’ve got you.” Right here. Right now. York had his friend and everything was going to be okay. Maybe this place was Hell. *** It had been a long time… a damned long time, a lifetime, since anyone had uttered those words to a Spartan. I’ve got you. No one had said that to any of them since they were stolen from the lives they’d left behind. North had South, and South had North. And now York had him. North closed his eyes and pressed his forehead in against York’s, finding comfort there where he always did. It didn’t kill the pang of worry and pain in his chest where his sister lived, where his friend lived. Where York’s death burned. It didn’t cast it all out, but it made it easier to bear. York had him, and he had York. So North nodded minutely. “Okay,” he said, and in saying it chose to believe in the moment. If North had a fatal flaw, it was his trust. But he believed in his friend. South would be okay with Wash, and North and York would be okay here with each other. They were already dead after all, they may as well enjoy living here. *** They had one another. No one had ever ‘had’ York before. North hadn’t said the words, but the way he leaned, the way he held, that was enough. With mismatched eyes closed, the tanner of the two men tipped his chin up. The Spartans brushed noses briefly. Their lips passed over each others, just for a fraction of a second. “Okay.” York repeated quietly, his breath impossible not to feel against the more delicate skin covering the purple soldier’s lips. Then, he was pulling away slowly, his hands releasing North’s face and instead taking the other Freelancer’s hands to give them a squeeze. Then they dropped away entirely. “Let’s finish our walk. Come on out, D.” He knew that Theta would need to be given access to North again soon, lest he get too scared. This was the only way he knew to show North it was okay to let his AI out again. Lead by example. *** They were strangely intimate for a pair who had no idea what “intimacy” really meant. They had ideas, sure, but what did any of the Spartans know? Some of their number had figured it out, most of them hadn’t. Their lips brushed, North and York had never questioned their closeness, but before the thought could formulate entirely in North’s mind York was pulling away. The feel of York’s breath would linger on his lips which felt strangely nice the same way every other aspect of their closeness did, but a second alarm sounded in his head so that everything else fell away. “Wait,” he insisted, catching York’s hand again. “What happens to Theta?” Texas had Delta. That was good. Delta hadn’t adhered to protocol. But what about his own? He couldn’t be left behind, but neither Wash nor South were good for him. Maybe it was better if he did self destruct. *** That had York hesitate and he looked down at their hands before looking up at North again. “South has him.” It wasn’t a good thing. She was too harsh. Too brash. Too uncaring. She saw Theta as a program and a tool and nothing more. It would have been better for Theta to self destruct. “But Tex is trying to get him back.” It wasn’t necessarily a good thing either but.. This Tex.. somehow, this Tex was different. But it still didn’t spell anything good for Theta. “Are you alright, buddy?” North didn’t look good. York couldn’t blame him. *** South has him. “Okay,” The writing was on the wall on that one. They both knew South. South wasn’t a good match for Theta, but … but at least Theta wasn’t alone. North could justify that all day in a bid to lie to himself. Don’t think about it now. There was nothing he could do, he didn’t have any control and he never would as a dead man. Was he alright? “No,” he said, honest, “but I will be. There’s only two choices after all,” as there always had been. It was to give in and break down or it was to keep on going. So he’d keep on going. He looked down at their joined hands, squeezed York’s fingers lightly then let him go. “Theta, you can come out now,” he said aloud, and smiled when the AI reasserted his presence in North’s brain. “Don’t be anxious, bud, Delta, York and I are all good.” It was fine. They all had each other. *** Separated again, two independent people. York had found that he liked night time the best, when North pressed against him and they became one person again. This being apart thing wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. His hands pressed into his pockets. “Thanks a lot for giving us a moment, Little T, I really appreciate it.” York couldn’t see the AI, but he knew that Theta could hear him. That was all that mattered. “Back to work, then.” They needed to give this place a proper once-over and figure out exactly what they were dealing with. Everything else could wait. Their friends and companions came first, and they needed to be informed and protected. That was something North and York could help with. And they would. |