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

[ 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?

Before, you were being kept in a glass cage that you couldn't see. They're going to want you back, now, and they won't repeat a mistake like letting you run around freely.

You're helping me because you don't want them to get their hands on me.

[ AVOIDS THIS QUESTION ]

You shouldn't want them to get their hands on you either.

Or is it because you're afraid of what'll happen if they do?

...

If they have you back, they will find some way to continue their experiments. They'll find ways around any laws or penalties and find a new group of guinea pigs to -- [ and he snarls ] -- enhance.

Or they'll dangle you as bait for the Meta. Or terminate you entirely, after all these difficulties.

It'd be a lot easier to just kill me yourself, dude.

I had considered that.

Unless you don't know how.

I don't, and I'm not going to change that.

I don't want to kill you.

Uh huh.

[ lsmdflskj HE RECOGNIZES THAT TONE ]

[ very slowly and patiently ]

I'm not. A murderer.

You can't seriously be pulling that shit on me, Mr. I Shot My Partner In The Face.

My partner is Epsilon.

Agent South Dakota, on the other hand, was a murderer and a criminal, and I wasn't about to leave Delta in her hands.

Edited 2009-10-05 03:37 (UTC)

Whatever you say, man.

Look, you can knock that off anytime. You've been inside my head.