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. ]
[It's a bit of a tic, a pull, a tightening of his face when he's trying to swallow back emotions. He blinks at York's odd attempt at comfort, almost laughs, a sickly mix that he instead chooses to fight. He tries to work it out of his face with a smile, a little forced one.]
Well then stop saying bloody upsetting things. If here is what you have, then we'll be here to help.
M'sorry. 'course you'll remember me. Probably find a way with that big ole ship to find us and get us out, yeah? Fix everything. That's what you do, Mal. You fix things.
No. Gotta get up to Delta. He has nightmares. Can't leave him t'them alone, y'know?
[ Standing is hard, but he can lean on Mal which makes it less hard. Except Mal's shorter so he's snuffling into his hair and it tickles and he's giggling. ]
In that they're few and far between, yeah. But he's got his shit, I got my shit- and now we got a bridge and sometimes shit I"m used to sleeping through wakes him up, or shit he's used to not being scared of terrifies the fuck out of me-
We're okay but. It makes things ahrder sometimes. We're dealing.
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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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Well then stop saying bloody upsetting things. If here is what you have, then we'll be here to help.
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How about we get you some water to drink and we can keep being depressing tomorrow, hm?
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[ Standing is hard, but he can lean on Mal which makes it less hard. Except Mal's shorter so he's snuffling into his hair and it tickles and he's giggling. ]
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But. Yes, you should go to Delta.
[They can shuffle to the kitchen, and York can have a whole water bottle to take with him. Can sleepy drunk York tackle stairs?]
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We're okay but. It makes things ahrder sometimes. We're dealing.
[ Water. Water, water, beautiful water. Tasty water. Stairs are... ]
I'm gonna need help.
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[You're still leaning all over him, loser.] I'll drag you up if I have to.
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[ He slings one around his shoulders, holding himself up. Kind of. ]
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