After FILSS. Freelancer AI. Freelancer Integrated Logistics and Security System. FILSS, Phyliss. Kept us all in line, kept track of our bioreadings, kept us healthy. Kept us sane. Recommended rec nights so we wouldn't get too tense, you know?
[ Filss had been good people. He misses her a little. Wonders what happened to her. ]
You should be proud of me though. I didn't do a dumb. I didn't do TWO dumbs.
York, you're already a big dummy. [Said with all of the affection only an experienced brother can deliver.] I'm just proud there's no body to hide, all right? You were pretty conflicted when you left.
I didn't drive my own drunk ass home and- [ He snorts, fingers twitching in Malcolm's shirt. ] I didn't sleep with her. She wanted to! Hit on me. And she was all- Most of the time she was on the ship she was in armor or too angry to talk to me about some bullshit.
And it's been awhile since I've seen her last. Forgot she was hot. And they gave her these clothes that just- yeah. And she was hitting on me. And it's been awhile. Like not a long while but a while while. Since that night I did the last dumb while. So I thought about it.
[He does not know what to do with any of that.] I'm proud that you didn't both decide to drunkenly have sex if you weren't okay with it.
But you know it's no big deal anymore who you sleep with. All that was made pretty clear to everyone involved. And yes, I'm proud you got the bike to drive you home herself.
And I'm proud you didn't shoot anyone.
You need anything from me? [Besides, apparently, approval.]
North would kill me. Clair would kill me. DELTA would kill me. Been dead. s'not fun.
[ Drunk York is swiftly becoming sleepy York. Nosing in along Malcolm's shoulder...he smells nice. If D's awake enough to get it there's this low thrum of contentment. He's kind of missed passing out against Malcolm in the middle of the night. Platonicly. ]
So North's your buddy unless you sleep with his sister, then he's going to turn into an overprotective wolf on you? [That's an amusing mental image, really.
And he doesn't mind York passing out on him. Might nudge him to a bed first. Would Delta even mind if York didn't come to bed? Would York want Mal to join him? Malcolm's missed this, too, but he'll not say it.]
Yeah. We can get some water in you before sending you off to sleep.
You can still shoot your friends, boo. Maine and I were buds and he's the one that fucked up my eye in the first place.
[ And Reggie's the one that killed him, but he's not going to get into that. He's gonna curl up here and settle where it's warm and Mal smells good and nothing is dying, the director, or Project Freelancer. ]
Once we got everything sorted out, the two of us were fine. We get along all right. You've got some good people around you, York. And you're good people, too.
Signed up t'help people, fight the war, save lives. Killed a buncha people I was told were the enemy, never asked why. Never thought about what was going on till Connie got killed. m'just as bad as the director.
Y'wanna know how I made a living after the project? Instead've going back to the military I stole. Broke into places that had been abandoned cuz of the war, took what I needed, sold the rest. Told D it was okay cuz they were probably insured. The fuck kinda morality izzat?
You had to survive, and the places were abandoned. And before that, you were a soldier following orders. It's an age old excuse, but I find it valid nevertheless.
War...war turns everything upside down. Makes villains out of good people. Nothing is right, and only decades after will the historians decide the truth of things.
As soon as we started dying in live fire exercises- as soon as 'quipment started getting us killed I shoulda looked. Not like the encryption on the MOI was that hard t'crack. I did it t'sneak out with the guys all the time. Never thought about sneak'n in. Find'n out what was going on.
We were supposed t'be the best. Special. And I bought it.
Believe me when I say that I know the feeling. When you have someone who picks you out for something exciting, something that's going to change the world and save people, when he tells you that you're meant for something more, it's easy to latch on to that.
It doesn't mean you're not one of the best. You made it as far as you did when how many others failed?
They didn't fail- they were given faulty equipment that wasn't tested- Utah- utah was one of the best shots we had. Georgia was a better mid range combat specialist than anyone else. California- [ He could go on, think of every last one of them that died and hadn't needed to. That'd been fucked over. ] You know North's pretty sure he's dead? Doesn't know for sure but-
when he told me I couldn't believe it. Me with the bad eye and the jammed gun watching my flankt geting shot, that I get. But north was always so careful.
Shh, hey. Taylor. [To get his attention. Surefire way.] What's done is done. There's nothing to be done here and now to change what happened to any of you. It's how you move forward that matters now, and I think you're doing wonderfully on that front.
[ His head snaps up like it always does at that, the way Mal's voice wraps around his name he hears so rarely. It's softer now than the last time, gentle even and he doesn't know what to do with that. ]
It was easier to cope before I knew what happened after, you know? When I didn't think about what my dying did to everyone else. That day on the sofa, when we marathoned die hard? D remembered me dying....and I felt it. What it was like for him.
Till he gets sent back. Till I do. You're only here until you're not and- [ He cracks a low laugh and it's like glass fracturing, head thudding back against Malcolm's shoulder. ] won't even remember me then.
You don't know that. [It's sharp and clipped, and he gives York a little shake.] You don't know any of that. Maybe we're stuck here forever. Maybe if you get sent back, you can do something. Maybe if I get sent back, I'll remember every single conversation we've ever had.
Things can change. I know that sounds optimistic for me, but time is a delicate matter.
There's no back for me Mal! I died. I'm gone. I'm dead. I bled out in my suit and D knocked me out so I wouldn't have to feel it. There's nothing to go back to.
[ His usual tenor's dropped to a low, exhausted whisper. ]
I'm....I'm done. Here's all I got left.
[ He was better about it before Delta showed up. Before Carolina. Before most everyone started dropping in like bad memories and stirring it all back up again. His hands go tight in Malcolm's shirt and he squeezes his eyes shut, forehead to Malcolm's throat. He's not looking up. It'll hurt.
But he's so damn hopeful and that's- that's rarer for Mal so he peeks. And his chin's doing this. Thing. That's sad. And small. And sad. ]
Hey- don't. Don't look like that.
[ He's allowed to be a sad mess. THat's all he's ever been, a sad little fuckup. One hand unfastens from Malcolm's shirt to reach up and rub against the weird knot of sad on his chin, trying to wipe it away with his thumb like he would tears. ]
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[ Filss had been good people. He misses her a little. Wonders what happened to her. ]
You should be proud of me though. I didn't do a dumb. I didn't do TWO dumbs.
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And it's been awhile since I've seen her last. Forgot she was hot. And they gave her these clothes that just- yeah. And she was hitting on me. And it's been awhile. Like not a long while but a while while. Since that night I did the last dumb while. So I thought about it.
But I didn't. You proud of me?
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But you know it's no big deal anymore who you sleep with. All that was made pretty clear to everyone involved. And yes, I'm proud you got the bike to drive you home herself.
And I'm proud you didn't shoot anyone.
You need anything from me? [Besides, apparently, approval.]
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[ Drunk York is swiftly becoming sleepy York. Nosing in along Malcolm's shoulder...he smells nice. If D's awake enough to get it there's this low thrum of contentment. He's kind of missed passing out against Malcolm in the middle of the night. Platonicly. ]
Water? In a little bit. This is nice.
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And he doesn't mind York passing out on him. Might nudge him to a bed first. Would Delta even mind if York didn't come to bed? Would York want Mal to join him? Malcolm's missed this, too, but he'll not say it.]
Yeah. We can get some water in you before sending you off to sleep.
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[ And Reggie's the one that killed him, but he's not going to get into that. He's gonna curl up here and settle where it's warm and Mal smells good and nothing is dying, the director, or Project Freelancer. ]
D didn't wake up?
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Delta's fine. I checked up on him.
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He likes you. He really does.
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Y'wanna know how I made a living after the project? Instead've going back to the military I stole. Broke into places that had been abandoned cuz of the war, took what I needed, sold the rest. Told D it was okay cuz they were probably insured. The fuck kinda morality izzat?
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War...war turns everything upside down. Makes villains out of good people. Nothing is right, and only decades after will the historians decide the truth of things.
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We were supposed t'be the best. Special. And I bought it.
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It doesn't mean you're not one of the best. You made it as far as you did when how many others failed?
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when he told me I couldn't believe it. Me with the bad eye and the jammed gun watching my flankt geting shot, that I get. But north was always so careful.
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It was easier to cope before I knew what happened after, you know? When I didn't think about what my dying did to everyone else. That day on the sofa, when we marathoned die hard? D remembered me dying....and I felt it. What it was like for him.
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Things can change. I know that sounds optimistic for me, but time is a delicate matter.
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[ His usual tenor's dropped to a low, exhausted whisper. ]
I'm....I'm done. Here's all I got left.
[ He was better about it before Delta showed up. Before Carolina. Before most everyone started dropping in like bad memories and stirring it all back up again. His hands go tight in Malcolm's shirt and he squeezes his eyes shut, forehead to Malcolm's throat. He's not looking up. It'll hurt.
But he's so damn hopeful and that's- that's rarer for Mal so he peeks. And his chin's doing this. Thing. That's sad. And small. And sad. ]
Hey- don't. Don't look like that.
[ He's allowed to be a sad mess. THat's all he's ever been, a sad little fuckup. One hand unfastens from Malcolm's shirt to reach up and rub against the weird knot of sad on his chin, trying to wipe it away with his thumb like he would tears. ]
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