[Of all possible reactions he could have gotten, empathy and understanding weren't even on his radar.]
[The world had been aggressively unforgiving these last few years. Even when he'd taken down Freelancer, something that should've been seen as objectively good, he'd been brought up on bogus charges for destroying government property. Because they'd needed to nail someone to the wall and the Director was in hiding.]
[So he'd been staring down the barrel of a sentence that was going to eat up most - or more likely all - the rest of his life.]
I can live with it.
[He feels it was justified or at least that his options were limited.]
[But what he says next - and how he says it - is enough to communicate where he's at mentally. His next words are flat and hollow, and his gaze is blank and empty to match.]
But between getting blamed by the Freelancers that stayed on after you all left for AI implantation getting stopped, shot in the back by various people, and scapegoated for the project because of military politics, it just hasn't been my experience that anyone would be forgiving about anything.
[About anything.]
[And there it is. It isn't so much that he's trying to be hated so much as he thinks it's inevitable and is heading it off at the pass. Might as well get it over with instead of rebuilding a friendship only to have it ruined by these little revelations, as it's doomed to be.]
[He knows he should push North away. He knows that an old friend will be the one most likely to figure out something is wrong when it comes to Wash's relationship with Jorgmund. He knows that the last thing North deserves is another inevitable betrayal.]
[He knows all of those things and were he the same man he was at the cut off of his memories, he might have pushed North away.]
[But he's not the same man.]
[Wash's right hand twitches as if it has a mind of its own and he has a strange urge to slap himself with it. He doesn't, but the impulse is there. Then, for the briefest moment he sees himself - in his armor - standing behind North. The vision does a little head nod at North, as if to say "don't push him away." He gets a quick impression of people in a rainbow assortment of armor behind his other self, but then he blinks and the vision is gone, just like that, disappearing as quickly as it'd come.]
[He doesn't know what it means but he wonders if it has to do with what he can't remember, if it's related to the names that seem to always be on the tip of his tongue, or to the voices he imagines chastising him at times or pleading with him.]
[He is not used to people reaching out to him when he's in survival mode. But like he did once before in a time he can't remember, when he was handily forgiven and offered a place on a team he'd menaced, all in the space of a heartbeat - he accepts it.]
[He grabs onto the life preserver that's been thrown to him.]
Like I said on the transport...
[He searches for the words.]
It'd be nice having someone cover my six again. And I planned on doing the same back, even if you decided to stop talking to me.
[As much as he could with Jorgmund keeping him on a short leash, at any rate. Even so, he wants to use his position to protect North as much as he's capable.]
[It must have been hard watching South drift away. Even if North maybe hadn't expected the betrayal, it sounds like she'd gotten more estranged as time went on, if she'd been arguing over Theta.]
[Wash actually takes a bite of his sandwich, too, finally.]
[Looking thoughtful.]
Listen, I...don't want to push you away, either. But I also... I understand if you ever need space. Just...let me know.
[Full acceptance, instantly, doesn't seem fair to expect. And he wants North to understand he should take any breathing room he needs.]
I took most of what I needed already, since the last time we talked. I mean...I might need some more. But I'm doing better than I was at first. At first, it was like... I mean, you'd already implied my sister was dead. It's just that it's different...hearing all the details.
[ He tilts his head, contemplating it. ]
I will say... I'm glad you were honest with me. So don't think giving up all the details was a mistake. It'll take some time for it to all sink in and heal up, though.
[ He pauses, shaking his head to himself. ]
I can still barely believe that's really you, in some ways.
[He swallows and almost chokes, naturally. And then the corners of his mouth quirk ever so slightly at North mentioning when he used to eat through his helmet.]
[It feels...nice for someone to remember how he used to be. Like it makes it so not all of it - of who he once was - is entirely gone.]
Middle of the living area. They assigned me a... he's a weird one. My roommate.
And even worse - my bunk smells like pepperoni. Because the guy who used to sleep there? Decided that was what he wanted a secret stash of under the mattress.
[He presses his lips together.]
It's soaked into the bottom of the mattress. The pepperoni juices.
[Thanks a lot, pepperoni man.]
I guess it's to be expected; apparently, the nickname of the guy who used to bunk there was "Sticky Ben."
[Even with how serious he is now, just saying the nickname almost, almost makes him laugh.]
no subject
[The world had been aggressively unforgiving these last few years. Even when he'd taken down Freelancer, something that should've been seen as objectively good, he'd been brought up on bogus charges for destroying government property. Because they'd needed to nail someone to the wall and the Director was in hiding.]
[So he'd been staring down the barrel of a sentence that was going to eat up most - or more likely all - the rest of his life.]
I can live with it.
[He feels it was justified or at least that his options were limited.]
[But what he says next - and how he says it - is enough to communicate where he's at mentally. His next words are flat and hollow, and his gaze is blank and empty to match.]
But between getting blamed by the Freelancers that stayed on after you all left for AI implantation getting stopped, shot in the back by various people, and scapegoated for the project because of military politics, it just hasn't been my experience that anyone would be forgiving about anything.
[About anything.]
[And there it is. It isn't so much that he's trying to be hated so much as he thinks it's inevitable and is heading it off at the pass. Might as well get it over with instead of rebuilding a friendship only to have it ruined by these little revelations, as it's doomed to be.]
no subject
[ North pauses, purses his lips together. Considers how he's going to put this.
When he speaks, it's slower, more contemplative. More to-the-point. ]
Listen, Wash. I'm upset. Theta's upset. I think that's only natural after everything you've told us.
And we don't hate you.
If you think you can handle that, we're not going anywhere.
It's just that if you're moving away from us, we're not stopping you.
[ He pauses again, taps his fingertips against the table. ]
Ball's in your court, friend.
no subject
[He knows all of those things and were he the same man he was at the cut off of his memories, he might have pushed North away.]
[But he's not the same man.]
[Wash's right hand twitches as if it has a mind of its own and he has a strange urge to slap himself with it. He doesn't, but the impulse is there. Then, for the briefest moment he sees himself - in his armor - standing behind North. The vision does a little head nod at North, as if to say "don't push him away." He gets a quick impression of people in a rainbow assortment of armor behind his other self, but then he blinks and the vision is gone, just like that, disappearing as quickly as it'd come.]
[He doesn't know what it means but he wonders if it has to do with what he can't remember, if it's related to the names that seem to always be on the tip of his tongue, or to the voices he imagines chastising him at times or pleading with him.]
[He is not used to people reaching out to him when he's in survival mode. But like he did once before in a time he can't remember, when he was handily forgiven and offered a place on a team he'd menaced, all in the space of a heartbeat - he accepts it.]
[He grabs onto the life preserver that's been thrown to him.]
Like I said on the transport...
[He searches for the words.]
It'd be nice having someone cover my six again. And I planned on doing the same back, even if you decided to stop talking to me.
[As much as he could with Jorgmund keeping him on a short leash, at any rate. Even so, he wants to use his position to protect North as much as he's capable.]
I just...got used to working alone.
[To being alone.]
no subject
There you go, Wash. That's the right way to think about it.
[ He finally picks his sandwich up to take an actual bite of it. ]
I'm still processing it, but I knew I didn't want to push you away. It's rough, you know, having someone trying to make that choice for you.
no subject
[It must have been hard watching South drift away. Even if North maybe hadn't expected the betrayal, it sounds like she'd gotten more estranged as time went on, if she'd been arguing over Theta.]
[Wash actually takes a bite of his sandwich, too, finally.]
[Looking thoughtful.]
Listen, I...don't want to push you away, either. But I also... I understand if you ever need space. Just...let me know.
[Full acceptance, instantly, doesn't seem fair to expect. And he wants North to understand he should take any breathing room he needs.]
no subject
[ He tilts his head, contemplating it. ]
I will say... I'm glad you were honest with me. So don't think giving up all the details was a mistake. It'll take some time for it to all sink in and heal up, though.
[ He pauses, shaking his head to himself. ]
I can still barely believe that's really you, in some ways.
no subject
Saying it's been a rough few years is a bit of an understatement. I had to adapt. I had to be certain things to survive.
[His voice finally, finally thaws a little, loses some of the clipped coldness and brittle tension.]
But hopefully not everything has changed.
[As if proving his point, he suddenly crams half the entire sandwich in his mouth - classic Wash, for just a second.]
no subject
At least you weren't wearing a helmet when you did that. Try not to choke on that.
[ And now on to other business... ]
Where do you bunk here?
no subject
[It feels...nice for someone to remember how he used to be. Like it makes it so not all of it - of who he once was - is entirely gone.]
Middle of the living area. They assigned me a... he's a weird one. My roommate.
And even worse - my bunk smells like pepperoni. Because the guy who used to sleep there? Decided that was what he wanted a secret stash of under the mattress.
[He presses his lips together.]
It's soaked into the bottom of the mattress. The pepperoni juices.
[Thanks a lot, pepperoni man.]
I guess it's to be expected; apparently, the nickname of the guy who used to bunk there was "Sticky Ben."
[Even with how serious he is now, just saying the nickname almost, almost makes him laugh.]
no subject
That sounds...interesting.
[ He looks down at his sandwich. That story had just put him off his food. Great. ]
Actually, that sounds revolting.