goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

"I got a lot to make up for." He couldn't save his team. He couldn't stop what happened to the Alpha. Couldn't keep Delta safe. But this? This he can do. This he WILL do. "This is what I signed on for back at the beginning. What I was TOLD I was joining the project to do. I got these skills...I got them to help people."

Not a crazy bastard. He can't imagine how many of the mooks he shot down back then had no idea what they were doing or why it was happening. Not a one.

"So that's what I'm gonna do. And you? You'll do what you do." Before he'd claim a no judgement zone. Pat Wash on the back and say it was okay, they all get to be assholes. But now? Now he's judging. A lot. "Maybe because you kind of are being an asshole."

He is speared, caught like a rabbit in the lights of an oncoming car. It hurts more than he'd imagined to hear that. To hear it from York. One thing to tell himself that he doesn't care, that none of it matters to him, and another to have York slap him in the face with it.

And he doesn't even know half of it. If he knew, Wash thinks now that York might very well just shoot him. Treacherous ground.

"Fine,"he grinds out after a moment, everything in his posture defensive. "I'm an asshole. I'm a- a monster. If not giving a fuck is how I survive, that's how I'm going to do it. It's better than the alternative." Which was seeing everyone you cared about die over and over again. "I'm not David anymore. I'm not the rookie. I'm- I can't be him anymore."

"If you're that apathetic, David- " And it's not fair to use the name after he just disavowed it but York has never really been one for playing fair. Not in shit like this. "Then what's the point of surviving? You think I didn't try that? You think that it actually works worth a damn? Wake up kid! Shit happened. People we cared about died. Not giving a fuck doesn't change anything- all it does is leave you hollow. I've had more than my share of that. You grieve. You move on. You make connections."

Says the man that's been avoiding everyone on the way home- just so he COULD get home. Then again pretty much everyone around him had been trying to kill him.

So.

He feels justified in this.

"And sometimes those people are gonna die too. And then you push on, you do it again, because that's what humans do."

"Maybe I'm surviving just because I'm too much of a coward to put a bullet in my head," Wash snaps back. He's shifted into a fighting stance without even thinking. It's been a while since an argument like this didn't come to blows. Why would this one be any different? "There is nothing left. I hollowed myself out a long time ago Taylor. All that's going to happen here is you're going to watch them die. And it will kill another part of you. And then you'll run. Like you ran away from the Project, and from Carolina."

He takes a breath. "So don't act like you're so much better than I am. At least I'm honest with myself."

"Third time's the fucking charm, kid. The project wasn't the first time I lost everyone. And even if they all die and I somehow live, again, I'm gonna keep trying. Because I refuse to become the fucking hollowed out mess of a man that the director was." He snarls, stepping forward. Not swinging. Why lash out with a fist? What's the point of that?

"The project was broken and she was DEAD. I WATCHED HER FALL!" Last thing he fucking saw before he had to get North out of there. Before they had to leave. The engines were going up and the whole damn thing was going to blow if they didn't get the fuck out and he tried. He tried to get to her. To talk to her. To save her.

"Hell, maybe this time I'll finally fucking die with them like I was supposed to. Instead of this fucking bullshit."

York is right up against him, doesn't leave him much space to move if he needs it. Doesn't leave York much room either and Wash can reach one of his knives quickly enough to buy himself some breathing room.

But York doesn't attack him, not physically. It's a surprise actually and shows on his face. "Yeah You sure about that? Thought that about Maine too and look what happened." What had come back hadn't exactly been him, but it had been his body. He's not sure the person he's working with is really Carolina either, but she's alive.

"Maybe you will. And I'll be the one left to fucking remember you."

"But it wouldn't bother you at all. Because you don't care." Carolina's dead. There's no other explanation. He'd looked everywhere and sure, he looked for wash too but he'd been buried deep. Carolina? The director would've flaunted. Shoved into the front lines to prove that his way work best. The woman was never all that subtle.

But she's dead. Dead and gone and never, ever fucking coming back and it's just them. Him and this man with Wash's face and voice and it's all wrong.

he'll stay. He'll stay, he'll fight, and he'll die.

But he'll do it without bothering this merc.

"So quit pretending to give a damn." He shoulders past Wash and heads deeper into the caves, shoulders tight and jaw set. Brave new world, times change people and-

Fuck everything.

He thinks about grabbing York, stopping him however he can. Doesn't. Lets him walk away. Should have let him walk away yesterday in the canyon. Should have ignored him, pretended to himself that it was just some asshole in a stolen suit. It might be York, but York is someone he knew in a different life. He has to remember that.

He doesn't head back to the base. There's a Fed outpost a few miles away. Small, insignificant really. They're trying to spy and failing but that's still a liability. What if they notice something out of the ordinary?

That won't be a problem anymore.

When he heads back to the base it's with a pack full of ammo and whatever he could salvage from the outpost while still destroying most of their tech and records. The rebels are so excited when he dumps it off at the armoury. They really are kids and not a one of them has ever considered that they're being played. Oh no, Agent Washington always comes through for them in the direst moments. It's pathetic.

It's easier to be aloof now he isn't interacting with York, even down to taking his rations out back to his bunk, picking at them between practising knife tricks that Connie had taught him once upon a time.

Five days and two more rounds of solo recon later and it's almost like he's got a routine. Sleep till he can't. Avoid Wash. Run around the perimeter, check supplies, check in with Kimball. Avoid Wash. Run drills till the kids need a break, send them on said break. Avoid Wash. Do hand to hand drills with kimball who's not a fighter and suddenly Avoiding Wash is a lot harder.

But they need a proper demo and Kimball is more of a distance fighter than a hand to hand fighter and she could use the lesson too. That more than anything else has him knocking on Wash's door in the middle of the day, stripped down to a tank and drawstring slacks, sweaty for the earlier workout.

It's easier to slip back into his old routine when York is so determined to avoid him. Wash interacts with Kimball and the rebels only as much as strictly necessary (the betting pool about him and York has died down - he thinks they're disappointed). They're better off with York anyway. He relates to them better. Actually wants what is best for them. Wash brings back trinkets, enough to get his job done. Reports in to Carolina.

They still don't know what to do. He doesn't think she's told their boss. He wishes he could talk to her and not just the her that she is right now.

He misses Connie. She'd smack him upside the head. And then stab him. And then fix this.

The knock on his door is a surprise and there's only one person who would dare.

He's been working out, sweaty and stripped down to the waist when he answers the door.

He just looks at York, dead-eyed, tamping down any flicker of affection he might have felt. They're not friends. He's a monster, York is part of a job.

"Mission?"

"Drill. Hand to hand. Kimball's more of a ranged fighter though she is picking up on Connie's tricks really well. You might wanna go over the rest of them with you, I only ever learned the first...five?" he shrugs and jerks his thumb back over his shoulder. "Need someone that actually knows what they're doing so I can teach them not to die."

He nods sharply and goes to pull on a t-shirt. He slips a knife into a sheathe that sits at the small of his back, just in case. He really hates going unarmed these days. "Alright. Let's show them how it's done."

"Just show 'em how to fall without hurting themselves. You'll be doing a lot of it." And there's no malice to it. No gloating. Just a flat statement of a fact like Carolina used to toss at them before practice. Make friends with the mat, you'll spend plenty of time there.

"Sure," Wash says, utterly bland. There's not even any point fighting right now. His pride isn't so fragile that he'll take hitting the mat as an insult. "Lead the way."

Lead he does without further comment, back to the mats where Bitters and Smith were attempting a grapple and not doing all that bad. "Smith- knee lock and pull to the left."

Bitters had half a second to try to figure out what the hell that was before Smith looped his leg around Bitter's and yanked back to the left. Of course he didn't know how to land it just yet so they go tumbling. "Good hustle guys. Line up, we're gonna give a proper demo."

Jensen may or may not squeed. York opts to pretend it has something to do with watching them work and not the dead rumor mill.

"Alright Wash." He turns on his heel, hands out. "Come at me."

They'd got better. Five days and York has actually taught them stuff. He tries not to feel happy about that, he doesn't think it sticks. He can't help the small half-smile that curls his lip when he watches Smith down the other soldier. It's a good job that York's done.

He stretches for a moment then faces York. They're not aiming for a real fight right now, so he opts for a charge that's much clumsier than he normally would have gone for, closer to what the rookies would probably do.

York keeps himself on the balls of his feet, light and ready. When Wash is in range he doesn't grapple, doesn't play around, simply goes low to jam his shoulder into Wash's solar plexus, shoves forward and up to flip him onto his back. Easy as breathing- even if Wash is more dense than he used to be. Kid's been eating his Wheaties.

The applause he didn't see coming.

"Need to see that again?"

It knocks the wind out of him a little, but not half as much as he knows it could if York was really trying to hurt him. Or if Wash was untrained at this. He falls back, turning it into a roll that keeps him from hitting the mat full force and lets him push himself back up to his feet easily.

When the applause comes, he just stares at the rebels for a moment, caught off guard by the sheer enthusiasm for this basic training exercise.

"One more time Wash. I'm gonna slow it down so they see what's happening so hang onto me if you need it." Momentum and Velocity do a lot of the balancing work for them, but this way they can actually see what he's doing, how he's doing it, and manage to replicate it.

"Like I was saying. You go in low. Shoulder to the solar plexus- knocks the wind out of them. Who can tell me the biggest benefit of a flip like this?" York motions to Rogers while Wash gets his wind back in him.

"Don't have to let go of your primary fire arm, sir!"

"That's right. Which means on the turn-"

"You put two in the chest, one in the visor!" Jensen calls out- her sheer enthusiasm for killshots is a little unsettling until you realise it's all about efficiency. He can encourage that. "That's right Jensen. And if you got a partner behind you, they get 'em instead."

He turns back to Wash, loose and braced just like before. "Alright Wash. Ready?"

Wash nods, settles back into a fighting stance focussing on York, although he keeps half an eye on what the kids are doing. Rebels. The rebels. Not kids. They're a job, not friends. They are definitely learning. Sure they probably won't ever be Freelancer good, but they've got a hell of a lot better chance of surviving this way than they would otherwise.

He doesn't respond to York, just heads for the other man, a little more slowly, ready to grab hold of him if they need to slow it down.

Just like before he goes in low, presses his shoulder into Wash's solar plexus and starts to lift at half speed. His hand actually has to slip out to grab wash's hip so he won't flip over too early, but other than that? Same motions as before. "It's all in the follow through. If you brace low when they come at you hard, you can use their momentum against them."

Once again he's on his back on the mat, albeit at a rather more sedate pace than last time. After the hip grab, he should probably have expected the muffled giggling and murmurs among the rebels. He gets the feeling that that betting pool is back on.

"Alright. We'll come back to that when I'm done borrowing Wash. Next lesson. What to do if someone pulls that trick on you." Which is a little more difficult but hey, they can pick it up if they drill hard. And they have nothing but time here. No hurry.

He offers Wash a hand back up, eyes still on the platoon. His platoon. "How do you think that works?"

"Uhhh...use your feet like a ninja?" Palmomo offers, actually raising his hand to talk. Jensen snorts and supplies "Use your momentum and flip them instead of flipping?"

Wash took York's hand, letting the other man help him up. The temptation is there to flip him just to be an asshole, but it would be too familiar right now, and unfair when he's trying to teach, even if it would probably get a laugh out of the kids. His kids. Wash can see the way he's looking at them, all protective. The way that he used to look at Wash back in the project. He might have kicked Wash around on the mats, but he'd learnt.

"Good idea Jensen," he says, giving her a nod.

The fact that Wash actually SAID something to one of them had the whole group go quiet and wide eyed. York's managed to humanize himself to them a bit- Wash? Is still kind of an enigma.

York helps him up and steps back so he can be the one doing the rushing. "Ready when you are, Wash."

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