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York (badlocksmith) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-11-01 16:51:00

Who: York and Wash
When: Early October
Where: York’s Apartment
What: Talking, eating
Rating/Warnings: Low/None
Status: Complete


Wash hadn’t seen York since before he and Carolina had left for Yosemite. He was aware that York knew what had happened, and that he was aware of what was going on. He’d taken care of their apartment while they’d been away, watched Suda and made sure she hadn’t clawed up the furniture in her human’s absence. He’d also gotten them a few supplies, including a box full of children’s board games that had miraculously broken some very frigid and thick ice that had formed between the two Church siblings. York was a genius in his way, and Wash owed him.

He hadn’t been to York’s new apartment since the beginning of September when the former XO had dragged him away when Carolina had come down with the Grounder Sickness and locked Wash out of their apartment. And, Wash had been less than a good houseguest at the time. Pissed off and scared. He spent two entire days pacing York’s bare living room, muttering, drinking and snapping every time York tried to calm him down. He hadn’t deserved that, and Wash needed to apologize.

Part of the apology consisted of dinner. Take out since Wash didn’t trust a casserole in the van, but good take out. He had come up the stairs balancing the take-out on the box of games he felt he should probably return to the Amazing Cyclops. With his arms full, Wash knocked using his foot.

There was loud music playing on the other side of the door. If Wash listened carefully, he was bound to hear it. Come on Eileen was playing loud, the Dexys Midnight Runners version. It took a moment for York to answer the door, too. The music wasn’t paused before the door swung inward, coming out in a loud, 1980’s blast. York himself was sweaty, wearing work-out clothes and with a towel over his shoulder. He grinned his super grin, though, at the sight of his friend.

“Hey!” York had to practically yell to be heard over the music. “Come in!” And then he dug in his pocket for his phone to remotely turn the music down.

Wash squinted and pulled back a little at the onslaught of sound that came out of York’s apartment. Wash rarely worked out with any kind of music. When he ran, he ran in silence, he needed to hear what was going on around him. However, he had a certain appreciation for York’s eclectic taste in music. He was also going to have the chorus for Come on Eileen ringing in his ears for the next week.
“Hey, man,” Wash greeted once he could hear his own voice above the music again. “I brought dinner and your games back,” he indicated the box in his hands. “Clue Jr., was a hit.”

York would probably be the best man to run shot gun for a long ass road trip. Not only did he have the world’s most extensive knowledge of road trip games, but he could DJ like nobody’s business. He was grinning as Wash came in, motioning toward the box. “Lemme help you with that.” And then his grin brightened considerably. He’d heard that the trip was a success (maybe not the most fun in the world, but had served its purpose) and was glad that both Wash and Carolina were home safe and sound.

“Ah, yeah, I was torn between Clue Jr and Trivial Pursuit, the Disney edition.” It was a little bit of a tease. York knew about Wash and his friends-with-benefits relationship with the Disney princess. “Glad I went with this one. You want a cup of coffee?”

“Coffee’d be great, thanks,” Wash nodded as he came into the apartment. He let York take the box from him. Coffee still wasn’t exactly his drink of choice, but since he couldn’t have his drink of choice anymore, coffee was a reasonable enough substitute, so long as he didn’t drink too much. “Carolina won,” he informed York, nodding towards the box of games, “but that was no surprise for either of us. At least I stood a chance at a game of 20 questions about what a character looks like. I wouldn’t have stood a chance at a Disney version of trivial pursuit.”

He was quiet for a moment, kind of awkwardly standing in the middle of York’s living room, shifting from foot to foot as he stood there anxiously. “Thanks. Y’know, for watching the apartment and taking care of Suda for me. And…” he trailed awkwardly and rubbed at the back of his neck, “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

Of course Carolina won. That wasn’t very surprising. York probably would have done better than either of them at the Disney Trivial Pursuit, and he wasn’t even dating anyone from that world. Wash should start to learn, shouldn’t he?

“Hey, anytime. Suda’s a sweetheart. She slept with me most nights.” He wasn’t ashamed to admit it. York loved animals. York set the box aside on a counter as he made his way into the kitchen. The former marine’s kitchen was sparse, but still felt homey. He pulled a couple of mugs out of a cupboard and set them on the counter to fill them, but the hesitation in Wash’s voice made his hand still on the handle of the coffee pot. He turned to look at Wash. The Rookie. His friend. He set the coffee pot back into the machine and turned around to give the other man his full attention.

Wash didn’t look up at him at first. He couldn’t quite bring himself to, yet. So grey eyes stayed on the coffee pot in the machine as he searched for the words he wanted to say. Epsilon wasn’t helping, whispering at the back of his mind, reminding him of memories that weren’t his and yet at the same time may as well have been. He shifted again uncomfortably. “I’m sorry about everything,” he said finally. “Mostly for the way I’ve acted since you’ve gotten back...being drunk most of the time - well…all of the time.”

“You were sick,” York argued, frowning as he stared at his friend. “You’re getting better.” York finally turned back around and poured the two cups of coffee. His hand was steady, his brow furrowed in determination. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Wash, the only thing I need to know from you is how much cream and sugar you want in your coffee.” York gave him a grin over his shoulder. “I’ve also got some fancy, flavored creamer in the fridge.” He kept it around for when he had ladies spend the night, because they seemed to like that sort of thing.

Wash looked up from the coffee pot finally at the former XO. He didn’t look entirely convinced. He felt as though he owed York more than a simple apology. He hadn’t just been a drunk when York had walked back into his life. He had actually mistaken other people for him while his sanity had been in question. He had wondered for so long where York had been, what had happened to him, and if he had just followed orders and not stepped in front of that charge...if he had just been stronger when Epsilon had given up, he wouldn’t have been trapped in Recovery and could have joined York and Tex...maybe York wouldn’t have been alone. Maybe he could have saved him.

Wash sighed heavily. York was here now. Wash had a second chance to make things right. Nothing was going to keep him from doing that. “I’ll take the flavored creamer,” he said, letting his hand fall from the back of his neck. A small sheepish grin came over his face, “yeah..I know. I haven’t quite gotten the taste for regular coffee yet.”

York had a fucking smug-ass expression on his face as he silently moved to the fridge to pull out the sweetener stuff. “I’m not saying anything,” he claimed, though the grin on his face spoke volumes about how much he wasn’t saying. He handed the vanilla sweetness over to his friend. “You and your princess are perfect for each other. She’s probably ninety percent sugar.” York didn’t know Anna all that well, but she seemed to be super sweet.

Wash deadpanned at him as he took the mug. “Don’t look at me like that. I was drinking coffee to help keep migraines at bay,” he explained, “and it just kind of became part of my routine.” And routine was important to Wash, especially in a place like this. “The creamer makes it more bearable, that’s all.”

“We’ll have to teach you to appreciate good coffee,” York suggested, though he didn’t really care one way or the other. He wanted to have things in his place that Wash could drink--wanted it to feel comfortable for his friend. Soda, tea, coffee, water, milk, juice? Whatever his friend wanted, he’d make sure to have. “You brought dinner?” He asked, suddenly feeling hungry after that workout. Eighties music always made him work a little harder. Maybe there was something to be said for that Richard Simmons guy.

“Is that...something you can teach?” Wash asked, maybe a little skeptically. He thought after a year, he would have developed a taste for coffee. No such doing. Without sugar and flavored creamers (or maybe some of whatever it was that made sparkling lattes sparkle), Wash still found it hard to choke down. Still, it was the routine that mattered. Plus, who was to say that because he drank a cup every day that wasn’t what was keeping the migraines at bay?

“Dinner?” Wash glanced at the table where he’d placed the bag containing their take-out. “Oh. Yeah, man. Calzones. They know me pretty well at this local pizza place and they make a pretty fucking awesome calzone.” He looked back at York, “it’s a thank you for watching the apartment and sending the games. Hungry?”

“I think so.” York wasn’t too sure about that, though. There was a time when he hated the taste of beer, and he’d gotten over that. Mostly. Sometimes it felt like the first one was still kinda nasty. Depending on the brand, anyway. He nodded at the take-out. “Ooh, I love calzones! Yeah, I’ve been working out all afternoon. I’m pretty hungry.”

York grabbed some forks and knives and headed to the table with his coffee. They could sit and have some dinner, and York was bound and determined to make himself available to his friend. Whatever Wash wanted to talk about. York wanted to hear everything. “Is it weird being back?” He asked. “After your week away?”

Wash grabbed the take out bag and brought it and his mug to the table. A nice cold beer would have gone excellent with the calzone. Wash had quickly acquired his taste for beer and yet he still hadn’t quite gotten a taste of coffee. However, he’d have to be content with his coffee from now on.

He took one of the food containers from the bag and handed it to York. He hesitated a moment before answering him. He wasn’t really sure how to explain how it felt to be back. He hadn’t really been gone all that long, really. Just a week. However, that week had felt like an eternity, even if Wash didn’t remember everything. He swallowed hard. “Kind of weird,” he said after another moment of awkward silence on his part. “Well...actually, between you and me, it’s very weird. Like...everyone wants to see me and...well, honestly? I kinda just...want to be alone. A lot of things came up over that week. Things I didn’t want to think about or talk about. And now I can’t stop thinking about them. And I want to drink so I don’t have to think about them, but I won’t. I can’t.”

York nodded, listening. He settled into his chair, accepted the to-go box, and opened it to start cutting his calzone into pieces with a knife and fork. Because York was a knife and fork kind of guy. He gave Wash his full attention, though, and only went after the food absent-mindedly. “Your true friends will understand the need for space.” In the past, York knew that he wasn’t there for Wash when he should have been, but that was never going to happen again. “Do you think you’re going to have to talk about those things? The things that came up?”

Wash didn’t start eating. The calzone looked delicious and smelled wonderful, but he hadn’t had much of an appetite since coming home. Even less so now. He looked at the food in front of him hard for a moment. He remembered, albeit vaguely, running out into the woods while at the cabin. Only, the woods hadn’t been woods. The alcohol soaked connections in his mind had been drying out and in doing so had created waking nightmares for him. He didn’t remember everything, which was probably just as well. But he did remember coming up onto the bodies of his friends. He remembered that too clearly. As though it had been a part of the Dreams, some memory of a different life that didn’t quite belong to him, but somehow still did. He remembered seeing York first. How his armor had been charred and burned like Wash figured it must have been after he had “recovered” York on that island…

Wash closed his eyes, but he couldn’t escape himself. “I don’t know,” he answered after a long moment, then was quite another long moment. “I saw things, while I was detoxing. Hallucinations.” He swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure if Carolina would tell York or not, but Wash sort of thought York had a right to know. “You were there. So was North and South...Maine and Connie…”

There was no way that York was gonna press any of this. He wanted Wash to be comfortable, to talk about the things he needed or wanted to talk about, and not feel any pressure to do more than he was ready for. York was a friend, an ally, an ear and a shoulder. He wouldn’t put his relationship with Wash into jeopardy for any reason. When his friend started to talk, York listened intently. He didn’t say anything at first, wanting to let Wash get it all out. But then there was a long pause, and he nodded.

“What were we doing in your hallucination?” York asked, carefully.

Wash grimaced, but pressed on. “You…all of you were dead,” he said. “I’d been trying to get to you. Like…I thought there was a mission and that it had gone wrong. You weren’t reporting in, the radios were silent. And Carolina was just standing there like she didn’t hear anything. Well, she didn’t hear anything. It was all in my head. Then I thought I heard my friend Gale out there and I just…ran out of the cabin trying to find you all. And when I did, you were already dead. And so was Gale, and Anna and Stefan…everyone. I was too slow, I couldn’t save anyone.”

York nodded. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. Our imaginations can be cruel sometimes.” He couldn’t imagine what his own imagination would come up with if their positions were reversed. Too many Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies with Heather, too much violence in his real life and in the Dreams. It fuelled a really sick imagination. And if he was hurting that badly?

“But you know it wasn’t real. We’re all here, and we’re fine.” York insisted. “It’s not your job to protect us,” he added. “It’s our job to protect each other.”

“You were counting on me,” Wash said. “All of you were.” He rubbed at the stubble on his face with a sigh and then looked over at York. What the other man had just said sounded a lot like something Wash had told Stefan not so long ago, that they had to take care of each other. He felt of pang in his chest.

“Yeah…” he said, though it sounded more like a tired sigh. “I just wish I had done more on my end. In the Dreams, here in this world. I wasn’t there when you needed me. If I had been. If I had just been there...” Well, there was no guarantee that anything would have turned out differently. However, that didn’t stop Wash from thinking that he should have been there. “I’m here now,” he said, “and I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Because sooner rather than later York was going to need him to be.

“Good.” York wasn't going to argue it anymore. They needed each other, that was plain. Neither needed to say it--to rephrase it by bringing up the past and shifting blame around--they just needed to accept it. They were a family. Dysfunctional, sure, but a family all the same. “I'm not going anywhere, either. I've got my own place, a car, a job, a girl. Kinda.” He tossed Wash a grin. “And you and Carolina. Why would I ever leave?”

Wash smiled faintly. “Be it ever so humble,” he agreed. Despite everything that had happened, the things they had been through, together and a part, Wash really was relieved that York was there with them now and that he was there to watch Wash’s back. It was never going to be like it was when they had served together, but it didn’t have to be. They were building something new. New lives better than their old ones. That was the idea.

Wash finally started eating the calzone in front of him. “So, when am I gonna meet this girl of yours?”

York laughed. “You're as bad as a teenage girl, Rookie,” he teased before starting in on his calzone, too. “Soon, I hope. And I think you're gonna love her.”