s15 shiz

[emps]

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[gettinglaid]

[Got you spoiled is what he doesn't say. He gets it, that confort having someone you trust next to you. His back arches into the touch. Tucker at least snagged a pair of boxers on the way; he isn't Donut.

The request gets a shrug. ] Wouldn't say no. It's your apartment.

[emps]

[ just a little spoiled. tucker arches into the contact and wash shifts, their shoulders bumping as he flattens his hand against tucker's back. ]

Not just my apartment anymore. [ at least, if tucker wants. is that too much to broach? wash is quiet after he speaks. ]

[gettinglaid]

[Tucker gives him another sidelong glance, more thoughtful this time. A breath before he leans into him.]

You sure? I could fill thks place up with a lot of stuff I'm having mail ordered.

[Retirement and you think Tucker won't rebuild his toy and lube collection?]

[emps]

[ tucker leans into him and wash doesn't hide the little smile on his lips. ]

Not like I have a lot to fill the place with either.

[ sad but true. ]

[gettinglaid]

[Yeah, the smile he was starting to get goes a little sideways.] Yeah, well. Maybe if the ship hadn't crashed.

[There's been so many what ifs going around his head lately. All the things they could've done differently.]

Pretty sure we could fill it up together. If you wanted to.

[emps]

[ they would have had to know that charon was crashing ships on chorus, though, and to not get on the ship with all the freelancer equipment.

wash gives a gentle sigh. ]

I didn't have that much on the ship, either. I was in prison before I was part of Blue Team, remember?

[ and that... tidbit brought back up, wash moves on. ]

I want to.

[gettinglaid]

[It's just the two of them. It's god knows what hour in the morning and no one else is awake. It should be fine. Tucker breathes in slow and leans his weight against Wash. Only because Wash is taller. That's all.

But how quiet and almost trembling his voice is probably gives him away.] Then let's do it.

[emps]

[ wash notices a lot about tucker. how quiet he is in general, but also specifically now. his palm presses in tight against the small of tucker's back, and he leans his head down a little to rest on top of tucker's. ]

Okay.

[ his voice is quiet. there's not much to say, aside from knowing he'll have to tune tucker's key card to open his door as well. this is just as much tucker's space as his own. ]

[gettinglaid]

[It's quiet; not the same kind of quiet he came out with, but a softer kind. It's easier. He watches Chorus above them, then takes in a slow breath.]

...Back in Freelancer, you were in a lot of fights. Right?

[emps]

We were in a few, yeah.

[ wash wonders where tucker is going with this - doesn't ask, waiting. ]

[gettinglaid]

[Tucker's making the effort to keep his eyes carefully trained forward, not at Wash, keep his ears working.]

... How'd you handle the aftermath?

[emps]

[ wash can see that tucker is trying to focus, trying to listen. it's a heavy question he asks, though. how did wash handle the aftermath?

he takes a breath, lets it out slowly. ]

At first, I didn't handle them well. Just tried not to think about it. Not something I recommend doing, by the way.

[ so wry. ]

I tried... talking to the other Freelancers, but no one ever really wanted to talk about it. Even North didn't seem to get it. So ... I would run. I'd run on the treadmills until I couldn't think anymore and then I'd try to sleep.

[ there's quiet after that, though. wash isn't sure he ever really found something that worked for him. ]

[gettinglaid]

[Tucker listens. It's the most honest conversation they've had in a while, and he thought maybe Wash would have some better answers than what he had.

Turns out they had the same answers. Not so different, really.]

Yeah, running's still not really my thing.

[So the other option is to Talk about it.]

[emps]

It wasn't always running. Physical activity just made it easier not to think about it.

[ ... he isn't advocating sex, by the way, but wash will admit he tried that too. for now he just keeps leaning against tucker. ]

I'm here, okay.

[ for talking, when he finally felt like it, or anything else he needed. ]

[gettinglaid]

[He's pretty sure he gets what Wash is putting down. And any other time, he'd joke about it. But now just... doesn't feel like the time. And it wasn't until Chorus that Tucker started noticing those social cues. He really has changed.

He takes in a deep breath, cross his arms over the railing and lowers his head so it's level with his shoulders.]

I don't... Really do the talking thing much either.

[emps]

You don't have to do it well.

[ wash lets him fold himself forward, his hand still resting against tucker's spine, watching the curve of his shoulders, the almost defeated slump. ]

Or anytime soon. But I'm here, and I'll listen. Even if it's just to tell me how much it sucks.

[gettinglaid]

[There it goes, the deafening silence at the end of Wash's "much--". He thinks he's gotten a little better at not making it obvious when it happens, but even he can't do anything about the way his shoulders tense, just a hair, so he can look at Wash's mouth out the corner of his eye. Just to make sure he isn't still talking.

How much what?

Fuck. Maybe if he just. Stays quiet. Or maybe this is the way to do it. When he can't hear any response.]

...Be easier if I didn't still dream it. Just... All the noise and-- Then the nothing. [he's trying at least.]

[emps]

[ too bad, you're caught dead in it, tucker. wash feels the tense shoulders through his hand, and he catches tucker peeking out of the corner of his eye.

before he can call him on it, though, he speaks. dreams, the noise and then the nothing.

wash looks up a little, but keeps his mouth visible. he talks slowly, enunciating his words carefully. ]

I still have dreams about her. They just... come less frequently.

[gettinglaid]

[Tucker watches carefully, trying not to look like he is. But who the fuck is 'her'?]

Unless she's telling you to have a threeway with me, I don't see why you're telling the guy you just started dating that you're dreaming about a girl.

[There's some stuff that happened even Tucker never did get to know about.]

[emps]

[ wash flinches a little, so minute that if tucker isn’t looking, he might miss it entirely. then he lets out a sigh, turning to face tucker so that the other can hopefully read his lips. ]

Most of the Freelancers had AI, and I was supposed to be no different. Mine was Epsilon - Church. When they gave him to me, though, he broke down. They took him away, but not before I was left with a bunch of jumbled memories - Epsilon’s, and the man’s he was based on. The Director.

[ wash pauses, mostly to make sure tucker is following. ]

[gettinglaid]

[Normally he would be, this would be a missing puzzle piece to all the shit he got caught up in.

But he only catches three words: Church, Epsilon, and Director. But not much else. Fuck, he was going he wouldn't have to show his cards. Tucker sighs and shakes his head.]

Didn't catch it. Either way, I just dream about it and... I dunno, it keeps me up.

[emps]

[ well, at least tucker is admitting it now. thats something wash gives him credit for, even if there's a mild surge of frustration.

he looks at tucker, listening, and frowning, his hand rubbing before he lets go. he reaches up to tap his own ears.

he does want to share this. maybe it will help. and then he has an idea, and holds up a finger. ]

Sorry, but - hold on.

[ he disappears back into the apartment, returning a moment later with his tablet. ]

[gettinglaid]

[If he could figure out what the hell is wrong with him, they could fix this. as it is, he sighs in frustration himself, watches Wash go back inside and come back with... OH hell no. This is what he's reduced to.

Tucker bashes a face at the tablet but... whatever wash is trying to say must be important.]

...well. we'll try it.

[emps]

[ make faces all you want, tucker, but until they figure out what is up, this is what he can use.

wash only nods and his fingers begin to fly over the screen. it only takes a few minutes to type what he needs to; once he’s done, he hands the tablet to tucker to read the text on the screen. ]

I was supposed to have an AI like the other freelancers. I was given Epsilon. When he was implanted in me, though, that finally broke him. They pulled him, but he’d already left me something - his memories of the Alpha’s torture, along with the memories of the man he was based on, the Director.

The Director lost someone close to him. The entire project he was trying to remake her.

[ that, obviously, was texas. ]

I still have nightmares about it. About Church’s torture, and about losing her. Not just them, but losing the other freelancers too.

So, you can always tell me about this. I get it. And I’m sorry.

[ wash shifts a little as tucker reads, almost anxious. ]

[gettinglaid]

[He takes the tablet and. Boy that is a lot of information, but it's the last few missing pieces of a fucked up puzzle he'd mostly put together on his own. Some stuff fit, other stuff made more sense now.

The quiet is probably agonizing for Wash who just poured out more information about himself than Tucker had managed to pick up over the last few years, but Tucker needs to sort it out in his head. What that means for him, for Church (both Churches, the one he knew before and laughed with and probably-definitely-loved and the one that just died in his head), for Wash, for everyone they knew.

He finally takes a slow breath, keeps his eyes on the tablet.]

No idea what you're apologizing for, dude.