Who: L. Tucker and Wash When: Wednesday Late Night Where: Freelancer Home What: Nightmares, Headlocks, Good Memories, and Ice Cream Cake Warnings: Language, PTSD, Innuendos Status: Completed GDoc
The good nights were starting to come more often than the bad nights. Granted Wash thought of the good nights as the ones where he just had insomnia that kept him from falling into sleep for more than a couple of hours or where he had normal nightmares that were easy enough to wake him up from and he was able to go back to sleep fairly quickly when whoever was in bed with him made him lie down and curl up again.
The bad nights were the nights where his dreams were mixed up with the memories that weren’t his, where he didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t, and he tended to get violent. Carolina and York were used to them and Wash hadn’t hurt them other than a split lip or black eye here and there. And one of those hadn’t been him trying to hit them it had been an unfortunate incident of someone leaning in as he thrashed backwards and Wash had head butted them without meaning to.
Tucker hadn’t been with him on one of those nights and it worried him sometimes. Wash didn’t want to hurt Tucker, even though he knew that Tucker could take a hit from him, so it was always in the back of his mind when Tucker stayed with him. That might be why tonight when he finally let himself fall asleep he’d dreamed of Freelancer and watching his team die over and over because of his choices. Carolina’s bright red hair made darker with the blood soaked through it, York caught in a grenade blast that blew out his whole visor this time, over and over, different scenarios meant to break down Alpha that had been shoved into his head when Epsilon was implanted.
They were dead and it was his fault.
***
While Tucker still couldn’t fully explain his entire relationship, whatever it was, with Wash, it was there. It was happening and he was okay with it. He’d gotten close with him back home and even more here in Madison. He’d even managed to find decent connections with York and Carolina. With the addition of Link and Charlie, even if he still gave her a side-eye, Tucker had formed himself a decent family.
And that was pretty damn perfect in comparison to most of the shit that went on back during his time. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great. People got hurt. People were lost. They were things that Tucker didn’t handle well or like. It was what happened when you got too comfortable, though.
He’d never admit it but Wash had had a point behind running drills and keeping them ready and aware of anything and everything.
Tucker had heard about Wash’s nightmares from York and Carolina. He’d been doing what he could to make things easy on him but had only once or twice tagged in to keep an eye on him during the night. They’d been the quieter nights with the other two insisting they would handle anything else. Tucker had protested in his own way and whether he’d finally made his point or they were tired of his bitching, here he was.
His arm had been resting on Wash, wrapped loosely around the other man’s chest. A pointer that had been hammered into his head. In doing so, Wash’s movements had easily awoken Tucker. “Shit. Wash? Hey, man. It’s cool, okay? Everything’s cool! It’s your old pal, Tucker!”
Remind him. Help him remember. More tips and tricks that Tucker either remembered from months ago or let go in one ear and out the other. He wasn’t a kid which he would argue until he was blue in the face.
***
It was always a toss up if it would be easy to wake him out of the dreams or not. Tonight Tucker’s voice jolted Wash out of the nightmare but he had no idea where he was, who Tucker was or even who he was at the moment. It meant in a panic Wash grabbed Tucker’s wrist and twisted it into a painful hold to keep him still then managed to plant a foot in his gut to push himself away. The kick might not push Tucker all the way out of the bed but it also let Wash throw himself out of bed and roll back into a sitting position on the floor so he could scrabble away until his back hit the wall.
That made him feel a little safer knowing that no one could come at him from behind but he had no weapons and there wasn’t any in reach so he was still vulnerable. The best he could do was to cover the port on the back of his head with one hand while he held the other up in a ‘ready’ position that might look more like he was warding someone off rather than being ready to defend himself.
Leonard. No, that wasn’t it. That was someone else. Everything was still blank and his breath was starting to wheeze a little with how tight his chest was.
***
“Fuck! Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck!” The trail of obscenities continued as Tucker did, indeed, go falling backward and off the bed. He hit his head on something, most likely the wall, but was thankful it wasn’t anything else. Like a weapon or sharp edge. No one needed that right now. Then again, he wasn’t Caboose. Or Donut. Or Simmons.
But, holy fuck, Wash could kick hard. Either that or Tucker was losing his hot guy muscle tone, which he’d also worry over later.
Picking himself up, one hand rubbing the back of his head and the other pressed against his stomach, Tucker had to take a moment and face the reality of what could happen to Wash.
It was terrifying. Terrifying in that someone had done this to him and put him through something so horrendous. That familiar feeling of anger and hate was swelling much like it had when Tucker had met Felix. He just wanted to punch the everloving shit out of whatever it was that hurt Wash.
He didn’t rush over to Wash and he didn’t make any sudden movements. Tucker stood there, a look of concern on his face before he finally spoke.
“Wash? Hey, it’s cool, okay? It’s all good. You’re good. Try to, uh, take a breath, okay? It’s Tucker. Remember me? Lavernius Tucker? Super Awesome Blue Team Captain?” Tucker paused and took a cautious step forward.
“...Bow chicka bow wow?”
***
The hand he was holding up wavered and lowered a little as Tucker was talking to him. His voice was familiar, which helped, and what he was saying didn’t make him feel threatened so he could concentrate more on breathing and less on needing to be ready to fight.
He wasn’t in a hospital, that was what he’d been expecting. He was just in a room and it had his helmet on the dresser and his armor stacked neatly ready for use and there were no bars on the door so it wasn’t prison either.
It was the ridiculous catch phrase that finally broke through the confused jumble of broken thoughts. “Tucker?” That was Tucker. And he was Washington. Wash. And this was his room and just as quickly as the relief at remembering hit, it went away when he realized he’d completely lost it in front of Tucker. His friend would know just how fucked up Wash really was. Wash’s breath hitched in something alarming like a sob before he caught himself and took several breaths that didn’t help at all.
“God, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He vaguely remembered twisting his arm and using the other body to push himself out of bed.
***
Tucker was quick to literally bite his tongue as his knee-jerk reaction was to, indeed, tell Wash just how much that hold and kick had hurt. There was definitely some bruising forming, but Tucker knew he couldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
Shaking his head, Tucker instead made his way over to Wash and held out his hand. “You’re asking me if I’m okay? Dude.”
Maybe that wasn’t the best way to approach what had just happened, but while Tucker had the ability to give decent morale boosts, he could also put his foot into his mouth. Without trying even.
“Why didn’t you show me that hold thing? You’re holding out on me.”
Attempting to make light of the situation would hopefully work better.
***
Wash could have hurt Tucker and he still wasn’t sure he didn’t after seeing him holding his stomach when he got up off the floor but he seemed to be moving and talking without any problems so the iron band around his lungs eased up just a notch to let him get more air.
When Tucker held his hand out Wash jerked his hand back and pressed it against his chest like he was afraid he might do something if he was touched. There was a voice in the back of his head that sounded a lot like Epsilon telling him he was awake and he wouldn’t do anything stupid like hurting Tucker but Epsilon wasn’t there. They’d ripped him out of his head leaving the memories behind and that made the hand over the port to his implants press down a little tighter.
“I didn’t want to have to teach it to Caboose. Think of the broken arms if I did.” He was trying for light in return but it fell very flat and too serious. The adrenaline was dumping out of his system now which meant the headache was starting to pound in his head and the shakes were starting to make him shiver like he was cold. “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine.”
He wanted to give Tucker an out after what he’d seen. No one needed to be dealing with a mess like Wash was.
***
“Bullshit you’re fine!”
If Wash wasn’t going to come to him, Tucker was just going to go to him instead.
He was still mildly cautious with his steps before he settled down beside Wash. Sitting close enough that his shoulder pressed against Wash’s, Tucker placed a hand against Wash’s arm. He didn’t squeeze or tighten the hold. He wanted Wash to know he was actually there and okay.
“And, no. I’m not thinking about any broken arms with Caboose because that’s too damn terrifying.” Tucker physically shuddered at the thought.
There was another pause and Tucker moved his arm to wiggle its way around Wash’s shoulders. This time he did give a light pull to hug Wash closer against him. “You wanna talk about it?”
***
Wash didn’t do much to help when Tucker was getting closer. Mostly he just sat there and shivered as his body burned off all the excess adrenaline until Tucker touched him. He flinched slightly at the hand on his arm but it was warm and felt good so he didn’t move and when Tucker pulled him against him Wash stopped being quite so tense and leaned on him. He was still waiting for that moment where Tucker would realize he should run for it but for now Wash was okay with sitting there together even if he still couldn’t quite stop covering the implants with his hand yet.
“Not really. I wasn’t dreaming my own memories.” Wash wasn’t sure just how much Tucker knew about things. He’d told Alpha/Church that he had the memories from Epsilon being implanted in his head but he didn’t ever really talk about the fact that Epsilon tried to tear himself apart in his head and how long and hard that recovery had been. “Usually it’s just variations of being in armor lock. I can handle those.” And by handle he meant he didn’t get violent and freak out. “I just...couldn’t remember. I thought I was back in the hospital, or prison, I just didn’t know where I was, or who we were.”
***
That was intense even if Tucker was fuzzy on the specifics. It was probably for the best, at least for now, if he stayed as such. He didn’t need any further ammunition to want to pummel someone into the ground.
“Okay, all of those things? They all suck. At least Grey knew what she was doing and what she was talking about.” Even if she was terrifying and could probably kill you without leaving any evidence behind. She was above and beyond Doc, though. Who was crazy.
“Hey, you know, why don’t you tell me something good, okay? Like something good for you or...something.” Tucker knew he wasn’t being entirely clear, but sometimes words were hard. He wanted Wash to tell him good things from his memory. Things that didn’t make anything hurt.
“Like, uh, ice cream. Everyone likes ice cream unless you’re one of those weird lactose people. Then you eat the fake ice cream shit, which okay just eat ice cream and take the pills that don’t make you shit your pants or something.”
He was getting off track.
“What flavor do you like? Do you like toppings? Cone or bowl?”
***
Wash tried not to think too much about Doc, he had that same guilty feeling about him as he did Donut after dragging him around the desert as a prisoner only to have him not seem to hate him afterward. He didn’t know how to deal with that so he just didn’t think about it.
Tucker asking about ice cream turned into Tucker starting to go off on a tangent which was so normal, including the awkward struggle for something that could be considered something ‘good’ to talk about that Wash was finally able to let his fingers slide away from the back of his head. He still felt exposed when he did it but it wasn’t as bad and leaning more firmly against Tucker helped.
“I like any flavor pretty much. And any way you serve it...although on Iris one time Donut made sure we had cones in his supply run and he may have traumatized most of us for life talking about his ‘oral techniques’ for eating it that way.” The things that Tucker had to look forward to. Wash tried to never tell him too much but random good (mostly good, Donut was weird) memories were okay. “Do you remember that time they put ice cream and beer in our supply drop not long after you brought me back to Valhalla?”
It was so frustrating how some memories were fuzzy and broken but others were still sharp. Most of the time the ones he could see the best were the bad ones because of the marks they’d left on him but not always. Wash remembered that day and he was glad it wasn’t fuzzy or broken. Simmons had been unhappy he’d been brought back with them after watching him shoot Donut and Tucker was still wary of him maybe accidentally deciding to put them through a wall or something with his paranoia but that day was the first one they’d all hung out together with Wash, half out of armor (Wash was half out of his armor the guys hadn’t even bothered to put theirs on) and he and Simmons had actually bonded a little with the disgust at watching Grif make and eat beer floats. It might have been the first time any of them had heard him laugh.
“Ice cream cake is okay too.” Thank you Charlie for introducing him to that after he assaulted her when she tried to wake him up from a dream.
***
“Could we not talk about Donut or his oral techniques?” Tucker nearly gagged at the thought and that was definitely saying something. It was Donut, though. It was enough to make him shudder.
He’d casually made note of Wash dropping his hand from his neck, which was a good sign.
“Yeah and then Grif ruined it like Grif usually does.” The Reds weren’t all terrible. They had been pretty helpful at certain points. Tucker knew he and the other Blues weren’t always the best to deal with, too. They were better, though.
“How do they even make ice cream cake? There’s, like, no cake involved. False advertising. No matter how good it is.” Tucker would still eat it, of course. There was no denying that. Especially if Wash wanted it. “I can get one tomorrow, but right now? Do we have any? Do you want one?”
He wasn’t keen on too much moving. Tucker was content to sit with Wash, hold him close, and make sure he was doing better.
***
“It was the first time Simmons really talked to me voluntarily. And yes, I will never eat any kind of float again after watching Grif.” Wash was pretty sure Sarge must have removed Grif’s taste buds along with most of his original organs when he did that surgery on him and made Simmons a cyborg.
Wash shook his head slightly and closed his eyes when Tucker asked if they had any ice cream cake or if he wanted one. The shivering had died down and he was starting to feel warm again finally but his head was killing him like it always did after something like this. “I just want to not move.” He and Tucker were around the same height so it was comfortable to just lean his head on Tucker’s shoulder and slip an arm around his waist to stay close.
If it wasn’t for his head he could probably sleep just like this but that wouldn’t really be fair to Tucker to sit on the floor most of the night. “All the good things, other than here, I mean back in our world, almost all of my good memories start after Sidewinder.” After they basically adopted him, told him he was the ‘dad’ of Blue team and took him back with them.
***
It wasn’t terrible, the floor, but it wasn’t warm and cushy. It would probably be better for Wash in the long run, too. The last thing Tucker wanted was for Carolina to hear he’d had Wash sleeping on the floor. He couldn’t help that even the smallest thing terrified him when it came to her.
Tucker got it, though. He could be protective when he wasn’t trying. Especially when it came to Wash.
He ran his fingers gently through Wash’s hair before tilting his head to press a kiss against his forehead. “You know what else is good? The bed. It’s warm and stuff. And soft. More good stuff.”
***
Carolina was just as protective of Tucker as she was of the rest of their family. It was just that Tucker’s mouth tended to rub her the wrong way. And Wash knew he was spending too much time with Tucker because his mind just supplied the ‘bow chicka bow wow’ after he thought of anything like that..
“Okay. Probably shouldn’t sleep on the floor anyway.” Wash really didn’t want to move but he forced himself to let go of Tucker and push away from the wall to get to his feet before he offered Tucker a hand up. They had to pick up the pillows and blankets that had ended up scattered when Wash did his maneuver to escape but it wasn’t too bad.
Usually when Tucker stayed with him Wash slept on his back and there was an arm over his chest but this time he waited until his friend lay down then lay down on his side and went ahead and completely invaded Tucker’s space by laying his head on his shoulder and putting an arm around his waist to keep himself curled up against him.
Wash just wanted to be as close as he could. Tucker had been the one to declare he was in love under the dome’s weird period they went through but Wash loved him like he did York and Carolina and he thought maybe he did even back in their world in some ways. He just didn’t want to say anything because he was still waiting for that other shoe to drop as Tucker had to deal with his being completely fucked up mentally and emotionally.
“I’m sorry I kicked you.” He sighed a little. “And used that arm lock on you. Are you sure you’re all right?”
***
Cuddling, spooning, whatever people called it hadn’t ever been Tucker’s thing. It was always a one and done - more if it was good - and he was on his way.
This was nice, though. Another good thing that Tucker was adding to his own list.
Shifting a bit to lean into Wash but also keep an arm wrapped around him to keep Wash close, Tucker just shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Any of it, okay? You know what kind of crazy shit I’ve been through?”
That was a dumb question because Wash knew. He knew more than Tucker did.
“I lived with fucking Caboose and had to deal with Donut. I’ve been through some shit, so I’m good, Wash. I’m definitely okay.” Nothing to the level that Wash had been through, but Tucker knew mentioning Caboose and Donut would hopefully make Wash laugh. Smile at the very least.
Tucker felt himself flush as he curled into Wash. Those feelings hadn’t gone away with the Dome. He still had a lot of love and affection for the guy. A fact that he was still tackling at understanding but accepted. There wasn’t a reason not to considering it was Wash.
“Is this where I’m supposed to say something romantic and stuff?”
***
“I know that surviving Caboose is pretty much a badge of honor.” Tucker did manage to get a smile out of him. Wash missed Caboose even though keeping up with the other blue soldier was not something he’d be capable of right now. And the idea of what destructive craziness Caboose could get up to in a place like this...where there were dragons and superheroes...scared the hell out of Wash.
He didn’t mean to but the question made Wash let out a startled laugh and then he had to cough and try to cover that he’d laughed because he didn’t want to be insulting but it didn’t really help hide the amused glint in his eyes when he lifted his head to look at his friend. “I’m not sure that’s really in either of our wheelhouses Tucker. I think we should just stick with talking to each other like we normally do.”
***
"Yeah, yeah." It wasn't really their style to be romantic. Tucker had never been and he couldn't remember if Wash had ever been. Maybe one time? Long ago in a galaxy far, far away. It was hard to say.
Adjusting the blanket and snuggling under it with his Wash-shaped pillow, Tucker felt oddly at ease. Even with the prior 'oh shit' moment under his belt, he was okay. He could handle it again if need be. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe that was that growth thing people were always referring to.
"Try and sleep this time or else I'm telling Carolina," Tucker poked lightly with a low grumble against Wash's mess of hair. He had a good feeling they'd make it through until morning.