goneawaycomms | Agent North

Someone who knows the principles of time travel or whatever. Problem is you have to be careful how you try to correct the multiverse, because you don't want to create a paradox.

[ More dumbfounded blinking. ]

Where the fuck did you hear this?

Wash told me.

[ Yup, he's on speaking terms with Wash, despite him having killed her back where they came from. ]

He kind of has some elaborate ideas about us faking our deaths when they're slated to actually happen, so we don't mess up everyone else's idea about us being dead.

I... hold on a second. What the fuck.

[ She sits herself down on the edge of one of the beds and rubs her face, processing the information he's just dumped at her feet. ]

Okay, first-of-fucking-all— you know he claims he fucking killed me, right? I'd be faking him killing me, apparently, in that grand fucking plan, and second, what. the fuck. I— so, what, I wouldn't even get to fucking chose to not do... what I did, you'd just have to fake it?

Yeah, details haven't been sorted out. It's kind of all completely hypothetical at this point anyway.

[ He shrugs. ]

I'm not really counting on it. We'd have to somehow upend Jorg and take over, before anything like that could possibly happen. I'm just living for now.

Right, living by getting into potentially deadly fights.

[ She groans, leans back until her head thunks the wall. She immediately regrets that and sits back up, rubbing her head. ]

Whatever. If that happens, it's not like I'm gonna say no to not getting a bullet in the face. But I'm not gonna rely on something so batshit either, let alone when it came out of Washington's mouth. I can't fucking believe—

[ —that he's still talking to Washington, knowing that. Only, she can, and even she'd feel like a hypocrite for finishing that sentence when North's still talking to her when she all but killed him. ]

I believe him. Or at least, I believe he believes it.

[ Obviously not what she meant, but she doesn't rush to correct it. ]

Yeah, whatever. We'll see. I'll believe it when I fuckin' see it. Until then...

[ She sighs. ]

Be fucking careful, Drew, I mean it. I know this is rich as fuck coming from me, but one of us is supposed to be the fucking sane one, we don't need both of us doing reckless shit. Especially when we're not always able to watch each other's backs.

[ He shakes his head slightly and sighs. She knows he doesn't back down from certain things. ]

Yeah. I'll do my best.

Your best better be damn fucking good. You can help people without putting yourself at risk of dying, Drew, that's... all I'm fuckin' asking. And you know I don't usually ask fuckshit of you.

[ There's that hint of vulnerability in her eyes, like when they talked before. She doesn't know if she could take him dying again. Once was hard enough, even if it was her own fault, even if she pretended it didn't bother her until recently. ]

[ He turns his head to look more directly at her. ]

You don't. So I'll remember.

...thanks. Love you, Drew. You pain in the ass.

[ She reaches up to lightly punch him in the arm. ]

I'm not fuckin' helping you put any shit on those damn burns if you have to, by the way. You can fuck off to York's for that shit.

[ She caught enough whilst waiting to come in to yell at him to use that as teasing ammunition, trying to alleviate the serious tone she's still not used to. ]

[ He laughs. ]

I think he'd be a lot more gentle with them than you would be anyway.

He's a pretty good nurse, honestly.

Oh yeah?

[ It takes some real restraint not to take that opening for a 'playing doctors and nurses' jab. It's right on the tip of her tongue before she stops herself and settles for a subtler, dry: ]

Is it the bedside manner or the lockpick's hands?

[ He can't help laughing again. ]

Little of both, I think. But yeah. I'll go to him for treatments. I'm supposed to put this on like four times a day.

[ ...oh my god. He's doing it again, isn't he? She squints at him, for a moment, cogs turning over the scene she arrived to... and barely resists the urge to roll her eyes. If this stupid idiot has started crushing again, here of all places, she might just lose her mind before it ever gets through his thick skull. Or, she could be mixing up the signs, because he and York have always been like this, but... ]

Four times? Oh yeah, count your fuckin' blessings that he's here and not just me or you'd be putting that shit on yourself, no matter how much you'd have to contort.

There's only a few spots I can't see, but it's fine. Between him and me, it'll get done.

[ He figures the ointment has had a chance to soak in or dry up or whatever it's supposed to do, and he reaches over for his shirt. ]

I'm going to sleep like a rock tonight.

No fucking kidding. Be concerned if you didn't after us getting woken up and this whole shitshow.

[ She idly kicks him in the shin, just to be a pest. ]

[ He kicks back, but not very hard or very effectively. ]

I probably won't even wait until bedtime, to be honest.

Guess when you do I'll either help with clean-up if it's still going or go waste some time until I'm ready to pass the fuck out too so I don't disturb your beauty sleep. Or you can go to York's, I guess, whatever.

[ She shrugs, slightly. It's easier to be a little less grumbling about the room situation when him going to York's isn't a part of avoiding her, anymore, just them being them. ]

Thank you, I appreciate it.

[ He's gotten used to having broken-up sleep patterns over the years, but he's glad to know she'll do her best to avoid waking him on purpose.

He leans harder against the wall and sighs. ]

What a day.

[ South slides to actually lay down, splayed lazily and half-off the bed, and sighs too. ]

Yeah. What a fuckin' day.

[ He lets his eyes slip to half-mast as he lazily leans there. Soon, he'll lie down. ]

So what'd you do over there? I guess you've been busy.

Bunch of fuckin' detective work. Searching one of those 'reward suites' [ she pulls a face ] from top to fuckin' bottom with that strange pink girl and Kerrigan. You saw what we broadcast, but I swept that place like three times over.

Not exactly, y'know, as intense as a fuckin' monster fight, but...

[ She shrugs slightly, then seems to remember something and sits up, plucking a couple of small bottles of alcohol from her jumpsuit pocket to hide somewhere in the room. At the same time, she pulls out a little handful of candies she grabbed on the way out and tosses North a couple with a dry: ]

Ta-da.

[ He chuckles, trying to catch at least a few of them. ]

Rewards, or spoils?

[ He looks at the wrapper of one, opens it, and tastes it. We lets out a low whistle. ]

Wow, this is gourmet shit.

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