goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

Sitting up might be a bit optimistic. Wash ends up curling against York's side, face buried against his shoulder. "Can't call it that," he says quietly, eyes closed. "It's hard to say bad stuff about them." Harder now, even if the cycle hadn't been completed. Always took a while for his brain to settle down. "I'll be fine. Just... need to do better."

"Okay. Won't call it that." God, how deep did this conditioning go? York distracts himself by combing his fingers through Wash's hair, lips pressed against his temple. He'll fix it.

He'll find a way to fix it. "We'll figure something out."

"Sorry," he says, taking a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry. Shouldn't have dragged you into this. If I'd been stronger..." If he'd kept to the mission, if he'd been better in the project, if he'd never agreed to this...

Carolina returned, water and a medical kit in her hands. "Wash, let me see your neck."

He pulled away reluctantly and turned to let her see it. It looked a mess, blood dried around the ports.

"Not your fault. You didn't have a choice." No one ever really gave him much of one. York winces at the blood, kicking himself for not being more careful. "...does this happen often? To both of you."

Wash hissed when she started to clean the back of his neck. Spaceships, Spartans, powered armour, and they still couldn't fucking make antiseptic that didn't hurt like a bitch.

Carolina tensed, her hands stilling for a moment. "Only when necessary."

"How often is it considered 'necessary'?" This is not something he's gonna let go. Not when he's got his hands in Wash's hair and there's BLOOD on his neck and Hargrove had done this to them.

"This is the first time in... six months or so," Wash said quietly. "More often when I first got rescued by him. They said they... they needed to know I wasn't a liability. That I was a good investment."

Carolina doesn't look at either of them, cleans Wash's neck off with quick, efficient motions.

"...And you?" If Wash was with the rebels often and Carolina dealt with Charon- either she got it more often or less. Any number of times is too fucking many. "I'm gonna kill him."

Hargrove is a dead man.

"I told you. Only when necessary. I know how to follow orders." And now York was here and making things difficult for them. She looks at him sharply when he says that, straightens up. "You're getting in the way, York. I need Wash in top condition. I can't do that if you're screwing with his head."

"I'm screwing with his head." Flat. Hard. Dangerous. "You want me gone, you know how to make it happen. Like fuck I'm walking out on either of you when they're doing this."

"You're making things difficult, York," she says coldly, a sharpness to her words. Still, her hands are gentle as she finishes patching Wash up, and her fingers linger against the back of his neck. It's a touch that is almost possessive. "We didn't need you before. You're only here because Control thinks you might be useful."

"So you're fine with sitting back and doing what they tell you, with letting them do this to you whenever you dare to have an original thought or urge." Didn't need him? Robots don't need much of anyone and that's exactly what Hargrove is trying to do to them. "So I gotta sit back and let this happen till they put me in that chair. Till they fuck with me until I'm not me anymore and I"m an obedient little monster. Is that it? Because if that's what I got to look forward to you may as well pull the fucking trigger now."

"I need my number two back," Carolina says. "I need him sharp and committed and a good soldier." Not scattered and distracted like Wash has been since York showed up. He's all that she has left. The one certain point in her life right now.

"It's not like that," she adds, her thumb brushing against the port at the back of Wash's neck. She can feel him tense beneath the touch. "Can you really say I'm not me anymore. That Wash isn't himself?"

"When he was fresh out of the chair? No. No I can't. When any attempt to BE yourself is squashed out of sheer fucking terror of being put back in the chair? No. You're glassing a planet. The woman I knew, the woman I followed? Wouldn't stand for that. Not for anything. The friend I lost in the project? Wouldn't go with it. And that it took all of a few weeks for him to see the light and come back from that? Is damning and you know it." They aren't them. They're shades.

They're puppets.

"You need to not be here. You need to not be a part of some sick bastard's collection."

"Don't call him that," Wash and Carolina said, and after everything, it was more obvious that it was a programmed reaction. Wash gave a frustrated noise and pulled away from both of them, going to curl against the back corner of his bed, knees drawn up to his chest. He banged his head back against the wall a couple of times, eyes tightly shut. Fuck, he couldn't do it. He couldn't stop it.

"Wash..." Carolina began, reaching for him. She knew what he had to be feeling. He'd seen her in the same state.

"David." York corrects, slipping up to get his hand between Wash's skull and the wall. All he needs is a suit of armor- hell. All he needs is a port to connect Delta. They can work out the rest. They WILL work out the rest. "Babe- Hey."

He flops down onto his side next to him- leaving room for Carolina to do whatever, and tries tugging Wash away from the wall. "Don't do that."

He keeps doing it, like the physical pain will ease some of the feeling of the pressure in his skull. One more bang and then he hits flesh, York's fingers cradling his skull, pulling him away from the wall. He's fraying quickly, close to breaking. "I want it over," he says, voice harsh with pain. "I can't keep doing this. I can feel it in my head and I hate it and it need to be over. So finish me, or get Control to break me one last time and shove me in their Meta Armour, or just give me a gun so I can end it myself."

Carolina rests her hand on his shoulder, slides it down along his arm.

"Their what?" What. WHat the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck Delta starts all but screaming in the back of his head at the name and that has him shuddering, trying to calm down both Wash AND D and not managing either all that well. "their what? CLair what are they planning?"

The name seems to hit something in Carolina, and for a second there's a flash of hurt in her eyes, and her expression falters. "They recovered Maine's body," she says bluntly. "They want to recreate the Meta, the thing he became, as a kind of weapon. A berserker. Won't question orders. Just kill." She takes a breath, grits her teeth.

"..." Okay. New plan. Brand new plan. If they have the armor and the upgrades-

D, do you think you could-

Yes.

No question, no hesitation. Yes.

That could be the tipping point. He has to make sure he can keep them safe on the run for it. And keep them from digging into armonia. "He's been trying to get you both broken to do it."

There is a tight nod from Carolina. "Yes. They haven't said as much, but it's easy to make a guess. We have the AI ports already. It'll be one of us."

"Maine deserved better," Wash says, a vicious savagery in his voice. It's easier to feel anger for Maine than it is for himself. "They have him there, his armour, strung up like a fucking trophy."

"You all deserve better." And they'll do what they can to make it happen. He doesn't want to leave Wash. Can't. Curls close and extends an arm to Carolina, even. "C'mere."

Wash burrows his face against York's chest and curls close to his warmth. He thinks his mind's made up, assuming he can keep it that way. Fuck knows, they might drag him out and lobotomise him tomorrow.

Carolina looks at York for a moment, glances at the door. "I should go. I have orders."

"He needs us." Not just him. Both of them. It's easy to cling to Wash and pretend it's just them but- that tears them apart as much as not helping at all. It needs to be all of them. "Will ten minutes make you disobedient?"

The last thing he wants is to land either of them in that chair again. Ever.

Carolina hesitates for a moment before she climbs onto the bed next to him. She's still wearing her armour, still unapproachable in so many ways. "I can spare ten minutes."

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)