dappered | (no subject)

(no subject)

[ So.

It'd been two days since Wash left Church in that empty city. Two days of blissful quiet (except it was never completely silent, not in his head, not with the echoes that Epsilon had left and the whispers that Wash still heard sometimes when he was on the verge of sleep) and he put them to use, moving fast and efficiently and reminding himself darkly the entire time how much Church hinders him, how he was operating with much less efficiency when he had to babysit, etc.

How could he possibly expect to go after the Director with the ultimate AI as his partner if his partner was a bitching juvenile manipulative little bastard. Who thought that abusing his trust was okay. Who thought that doing things like--

( kissing him, he remembers, the pressure of his mouth, his taste, the softness of his throat under Wash's fingertips )

--like that was acceptable. No big deal. Just proving a point, bitch.

It's almost enough to make him not want to go back, when he reached the crest of a cliff and suddenly recognizes the scenery. A shallow lake, a valley surrounded by mountains, one Blue base, one Red base, and one crashed black ship.

Valhalla. Which, now that he'd been reminded about it, did have some unverified accounts of dead zones and abandoned outposts attached to the file he'd glanced through. Valhalla was situated where it was because of this and now apparently occupied by the remnants of the Blood Gulch teams, and while it was a huge relief to have concrete proof of where he was (still not how it happened, still nothing to explain his jailbreak and Church's miraculous physical form, and the only theory he has getting progressively uglier), it meant he had some decisions to make now. The Meta and the recording devices inside Freelancer Command had seen Church's A.I. form, however briefly. Church needed to be kept hidden, needed to be kept safe, and Wash had no intention of waltzing back into a jail cell. It's not ideal, but they can hide here. Or around here, in the caverns that run underneath the cliffs. And know, at least, that their closest neighbors aren't going to jump at the chance to turn them in to Command.

Church doesn't see it quite so rationally. Church points out, in the tone of voice reserved for deepest atrocity, that what is being suggested is really the same thing as going to a place that is close to Caboose.

Wash privately winces along with him at the thought, but remains adamant. Blah blah hiding place, blah blah fugitives, blah blah finding Epsilon, blah blah just get your fucking gear and stop arguing.

Wishful thinking. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, this still fucking sucks, but at least now I have something that won't make me goddamn miserable.

Where to now, asshole?

[ Typical. Tell Church 'don't draw attention to yourself, don't make contact with ANYONE just yet' and what does he do but waltz into Blue base and start making off with equipment.

Not that he thinks Caboose is likely to do anything about it, even if he caught Church doing it (and hadn't, apparently, because Wash hadn't heard any screaming) but it's still Church flat-out ignoring everything Wash is telling him (has been telling him since day one) for his own goddamn good.

He just bites his tongue on the automatic reprimand and moves ahead. ]

The caves. We'll be able to supply ourselves from Blue base and I doubt our old buddy Sarge will bother to conduct exhaustive recon of this area. With the dead zones nearby it'll be a safer refuge than running blindly out into the sticks and hoping nobody thinks to scan the region for heat signatures.

[ Beat. ]

And don't call me an asshole.

I wouldn't call you an asshole if you weren't an asshole. Asshole.

[ (Just count to ten, and don't strangle him. ) ]

Church.

Are you fucking coming?

Church.

[ Look at me when I'm fucking talking to you. ]

-- What?

I need to know that you're going to take this seriously. [ Yeah he's looking at your sniper rifle you brat. ] You and I are wanted fugitives, you can't just go wandering around whenever you feel like it.

[ More to the point, he doesn't want Church around that ship, or Tex's armor, or to find Epsilon before Wash did. ]

You're fucking kidding me, right, dude?

Do I look like I'm kidding?

[ WHY DO YOU MAKE EVERYTHING SO DIFFICULT CHURCH ]

[ Wash follows in silence after a moment, though, the lights from his armor providing at least a little bit of illumination. He really needs to see about getting Church some armor. For protection. Not because it's harder to look at him with a human face rather than a blank helmet, and it's harder to watch the expressions of disdain and contempt that accompany every word out of his mouth.

Absolutely not. ]

[ It's not that Wash likes looking at him. He wishes he could stop, in fact, and he wishes that his eyes didn't automatically drift to Church whenever he wasn't paying absolute attention to keeping them fixed on something else. He's got more control than that. He ought to have more control than that.

He walks right past Church, acknowledging the silence as simply the moment between bouts of bad temper. Asking if the Blue (former Blue) finds that sniper rifle heavy will just inspire more complaints, asking him if he'd let himself get seen by Donut will do the same.

Instead he begins explaining, as if he'd been asked, as if he absolutely has to say this sort of thing out loud for himself.

Or for a partner who is no longer here. ]

The location I had in mind is further inside. According to the data I was given by Command about this outpost, there should be some developed areas of the caverns that were formerly used as storage, fortified bunkers, and practice grounds. Some of them may still have power, or we'll have to repair whatever's left and leech from the above-ground bases. If we're very lucky, there'll be left-over equipment. Hopefully enough to put together a new suit of armor for you, or we'll be stealing Caboose's.

All right.

[ That earns a glance back, although Church's face is difficult to see in the darkness. ]

...really? No objections?

Yeah, I'll just pick that dick waving contest with you back up when I'm in a better mood.

[ Awkward silenceeeee. ]

...

I--

[ Yeah what, Wash. Finish that sentence. ]

Come on.

[ Wash simply looks at him for a moment, the line of his back as Church moves ahead, and then follows without a word. Even if Church doesn't know exactly where they're going and it would make more sense to have Wash in front.

He doesn't need to constantly hear the sound of his own voice. If Church wants to be left in silence, Wash can do that for him. ]

It must be nice, being able to think whatever you want to think and making decisions for everyone else, huh? I mean, you've pretty much got me all figured out. The only thing I really know for sure about you is that... well, I don't think we even want to go there.

Anyway. How the fuck long are we supposed to walk? It's like this thing goes on for goddamn ever, and it's not exactly the most homey or welcoming of spaces. I'm not feeling the wet and dirty vibe.

[ Church isn't even to the end of his first sentence before Wash seriously considers muting his helmet. He doesn't understand how these people-- ALL of them, seem to thrive on bickering and insults and doing their level best to drive each other insane. It was no wonder they all hated each other and couldn't work together long enough to even change a lightbulb. Wash certainly didn't get along with all of the other freelancers but every one of them had been trained to be professional, and didn't Church get it that this only what was necessary, not because Wash enjoyed ruining peoples' lives on a whim. ]

If that was some kind of roundabout, socially inept version of asking me to share personal information, you forgot to say 'please.' And it's classified. Also I'd like to remind you that these decisions I'm making for you are just as unpleasant for me, and I'm not complaining because they also happen to be necessary.

We'll get there when we get there. If you'd rather not trip and fall on your face, you should walk behind me considering I have the map and a functioning HUD.

Edited 2009-10-03 23:31 (UTC)

Listen, Wash, what you think is necessary and what I think is necessary are two completely different things. If I wasn't sure your perkly little freelancer self wouldn't hunt me down like some fucking stalker in desperate need of therapy, I'd be long gone by now.

[ Tightly. ]

I'm well aware that I can't restrain you against your will if you choose to abandon that body and take off.

But believe me, the Meta can.

...and so can the Project.

I had no issue avoiding that shit before, right?