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ajremixA follow-up to In Silence are Born Ghosts.
Title: What Lurks in Emptiness
Fandom: Red vs Blue
Rating: PG-13 for one swear word? I am so bad at rating things.
Word Count: 611
Characters: Wash, Maine/Meta
Summary: Set before the end of s7. Wash goes to pick up his partner.
Wash would retrieve the Epsilon unit on two conditions, he said, and the Chairman grants them because he's more desperate than Wash is and they both know it. The second request is, once the unit is turned over, the UNSC will have nothing to do with Wash or his partner again. The first request has him being led down a hall to get his partner of choice.
They update him on his partner's condition, their words cold and sterile like the medical wing they're not taking him down. The halls are bare, doors thick with just slots for viewing and for food. Wash keeps his shoulders rigid and head straight but the further they go, the deeper and colder the ball of ice in his stomach grows. There are no doctors here. No scientists or caretakers, just guards that stand silently at their posts in the solitary wing. Wash doesn't know what they've done to Maine, but he's certain they've done nothing for him, either.
Upon arrival at one door, looking so much like all the others, one of the escorts launches into a speech about how Wash should act and signal once inside that Wash doesn't listen to. The door slides back and Wash orders Maine's armor fetched before he steps inside.
The door closes behind him with a solid, final echo that rings in his helmet. There, leaning against the wall like some discarded doll, is the man Wash once called teammate. Maine makes no move to acknowledge Wash, that there's someone there beside him. Everything about him is empty, right down to the angle of his head on his shoulder. The gaping space in Wash's brain that once held Epsilon aches and he can't help wonder to what extent he should multiply that to understand what Maine is feeling. He wonders, after the EMP silenced all the voices in his head, if there's anything left at all.
Wash pushes those feelings down and calls out, "Maine. Maine, I need your help for one last mission. After this, we'll..." he trails off, not quite able to form the words 'get you some help, fix what's wrong in your head, get away from all this bullshit and have our lives back'. "After this mission, we're free to go."
Maine says nothing- does nothing -and Wash bites at his lip and forces through a tight throat, "Meta." The man looks up and the only thing Maine-like in his face is the rough cut of his jaw and hard brow. Everything else is sunken in and sallow, shadows standing out like bruises that turn what was once a wall of a man into a broken creature. The distinction is so shocking Wash almost doesn't recognize him as human. It stings like a festering gut wound. Wash had to swallow every hurt and betrayal for years until he found the right time to let it all go, and now he has to relearn how to swallow it again. It sticks in his chest like a scream because he's the reason they're both here now. "We are going to find Epsilon."
At the name, something changes. Dark eyes light up so suddenly, so fervently, full of hunger and desperation and Wash almost takes a step back because under it all is a cold ruthlessness that is so like Maine but not that Wash doesn't know who it is still lurking in the Meta's head.
"Epsilon," and it isn't Maine's growl or the Meta's hiss, just a word with such longing it's almost like a piece of himself is missing. Wash hates that it's the last actual word he'll ever hear from the man again.
Title: What Lurks in Emptiness
Fandom: Red vs Blue
Rating: PG-13 for one swear word? I am so bad at rating things.
Word Count: 611
Characters: Wash, Maine/Meta
Summary: Set before the end of s7. Wash goes to pick up his partner.
Wash would retrieve the Epsilon unit on two conditions, he said, and the Chairman grants them because he's more desperate than Wash is and they both know it. The second request is, once the unit is turned over, the UNSC will have nothing to do with Wash or his partner again. The first request has him being led down a hall to get his partner of choice.
They update him on his partner's condition, their words cold and sterile like the medical wing they're not taking him down. The halls are bare, doors thick with just slots for viewing and for food. Wash keeps his shoulders rigid and head straight but the further they go, the deeper and colder the ball of ice in his stomach grows. There are no doctors here. No scientists or caretakers, just guards that stand silently at their posts in the solitary wing. Wash doesn't know what they've done to Maine, but he's certain they've done nothing for him, either.
Upon arrival at one door, looking so much like all the others, one of the escorts launches into a speech about how Wash should act and signal once inside that Wash doesn't listen to. The door slides back and Wash orders Maine's armor fetched before he steps inside.
The door closes behind him with a solid, final echo that rings in his helmet. There, leaning against the wall like some discarded doll, is the man Wash once called teammate. Maine makes no move to acknowledge Wash, that there's someone there beside him. Everything about him is empty, right down to the angle of his head on his shoulder. The gaping space in Wash's brain that once held Epsilon aches and he can't help wonder to what extent he should multiply that to understand what Maine is feeling. He wonders, after the EMP silenced all the voices in his head, if there's anything left at all.
Wash pushes those feelings down and calls out, "Maine. Maine, I need your help for one last mission. After this, we'll..." he trails off, not quite able to form the words 'get you some help, fix what's wrong in your head, get away from all this bullshit and have our lives back'. "After this mission, we're free to go."
Maine says nothing- does nothing -and Wash bites at his lip and forces through a tight throat, "Meta." The man looks up and the only thing Maine-like in his face is the rough cut of his jaw and hard brow. Everything else is sunken in and sallow, shadows standing out like bruises that turn what was once a wall of a man into a broken creature. The distinction is so shocking Wash almost doesn't recognize him as human. It stings like a festering gut wound. Wash had to swallow every hurt and betrayal for years until he found the right time to let it all go, and now he has to relearn how to swallow it again. It sticks in his chest like a scream because he's the reason they're both here now. "We are going to find Epsilon."
At the name, something changes. Dark eyes light up so suddenly, so fervently, full of hunger and desperation and Wash almost takes a step back because under it all is a cold ruthlessness that is so like Maine but not that Wash doesn't know who it is still lurking in the Meta's head.
"Epsilon," and it isn't Maine's growl or the Meta's hiss, just a word with such longing it's almost like a piece of himself is missing. Wash hates that it's the last actual word he'll ever hear from the man again.
