hexaflexagons | [psl] Time Travel Twins PSL

South draws in a breath between her gritted teeth, because the thing is, she knows about the Meta.

Command keeps her updated. Tells her when there’s been another attack and where it happened. Usually, it’s miles away—the last update they gave her, the damn thing was miles away, too far to be actively tracking North and his stupid lightbulb. Now Washington’s saying they’re being tracked by someone else and there’s no one else he could be talking about, but how does he know before she does?

Fuck. It’s too soon. She’s not ready for it to come for them, she doesn’t have enough info on how to beat the damn thing.

“Stop being cryptic and start talk—”

She catches North’s movement in her periphery, then, and she huffs a breath out her nose. “About fucking time, North!”

South spots him first, and Wash's helmet jerks a little, finally locating him--and the raised gun.

It's no less than Wash expected, what with him holding South at gunpoint, but it means the situation is changing again, and Wash runs with it. His own gun rises to switch towards her gut instead of her kneecaps (where the armor is softer, more flexible), and Wash takes a step to the side, trying to put them both in his view.

"Nice of you to join us, North."

Theta's not in view, but that doesn't mean he's not there.

North takes a step forward to equalize the triangle, keeping his gun trained on Wash.

"Just think how much nicer it would have been," he replies dryly, "if you hadn't pointed your gun at my sister."

Funny how a single sentence can stir so many mixed feelings.

She wants to snap at him that she can take care of herself. She wants to snap at him for only caring now she’s in physical danger. She wants to snark about how oh, if someone else is pointing a gun at her, it’s a problem, but if he blows out her knee with a sniper round, she’s meant to just forgive him and move on?

But she also can’t help her satisfied smirk at him backing her up like this. She can’t help how good it still feels to know that even if she’ll never come above that stupid little lightbulb, she’ll come above almost anyone else, even if it takes a gun in her face.

“Two against one, Washington. If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

Wash--hesitates, helmet shifting as he eyes the guns.

Whatever chances he's weighing, he must not like them, because he cuts to the chase: "You're being followed."

He looks from South to North, focusing on him. "I've had four recovery beacons go off in as many weeks, and each time I've found the same thing: a dead freelancer, and an empty AI storage."

North doesn't move, but he notices Wash's shift in focus, and he knows why it's happened. He pauses, then abruptly places his pistol on its mag clip. He doesn't want to risk Theta, and he realizes very quickly that Wash is here to help them. He remembers what happened to Wyoming just before the Project dissolved, and although he's never become aware of exactly what happened to Maine, he knows it must have the same source as this.

He steps closer.

"It wasn't Tex," he says. "Right?"

Ugh, for fuck's...

South does not lower her gun. Nope. Not a fucking chance. Not when he knows about her being Recovery, not when he could blurt that out at any moment and fuck her.

She knows already it isn't Tex. And she can't say a word, because she's not meant to fucking know, so if she contributes to this line of the conversation? She'll just fuck herself, instead.

She also knows that Washington just uttered the magic fucking words to make North listen to him. Any risk to that AI in his head and there we go, she's back down to the bottom of the priority list. God fucking dammit.

Whatever chance she had of her plan to get him separated from that thing working is gone.

She doesn't say a word.

"No," Wash replies shortly. "... Tex is gone."

He makes no sudden movements as he lowers his own gun, returning it to its clip. If his helmet tilts towards South in the process, well. It's her move, now.

"The thing coming after you is completely different. It's strong, and it has at least four AIs and their freelancer's armor enhancements. I know none of you have any reason to trust me," He lifts a quelling hand. "But the last thing I want is for that thing to get any stronger."

"Same here," he says, and looks at South, then gestures for her to put her gun down. "We've always known that the Project isn't the worst threat we have after us, but we don't know enough about how to deal with it, or even what it is."

She really doesn't want to lower her gun.

But now North is waving her down and if she keeps it up, she's just going to get shit for it, so with a violent huff she lowers it, but doesn't put it back onto her back. If she can't have it trained on him, she's at least keeping it in her hands. Fuck you both.

"What he said," she grumbles, knowing full well Wash probably knows it's a bald-faced lie.

Wash's helmet shifts, and the look he's sending her is lost behind the cover of his visor. (Yeah. He's sure she's real lost.)

"Well," he says, shrugging it away deliberately. "I might know a thing or two. But how much I share and why is going to depend on what exactly you both plan to do after."

He's looking at North while he talks, but now his helmet tilts towards South.

"What we should plan to do is get the hell out of here," South says, and for the first time she risks taking her eyes off Washington to give her brother a very pointed look. "If this thing's really taken that many AI, the hell else are we supposed to do? So long as you insist on keeping Theta on us, it'll keep coming. No amount of information is gonna change that."

It's cheap, coming from her, even if the others don't know it—her own plan very much involved fighting the damn thing. But call it a last ditch effort to drill sense into her stupid brother's brain. He won't give up Theta, fine, but they can't just keep running in place hoping it won't catch up to them. They need off this stupid planet, somehow.

He won't agree. She knows he won't agree. But it's what she thinks they should do, anyway.

Edited (bit of wording) 2021-08-13 23:57 (UTC)

"I'm not abandoning Theta, South," he says. Really, that she would suggest such a thing now just reinforces everything he learned about her during the breakdown of the Project, things he wishes he didn't have to know about her. Things that, sooner or later, could lead to one of them being killed.

He turns toward Wash. Wash seems to be talking about making a bargain. North wonders what kind of trouble he's gotten himself into. "What do you need out of it?"

"I wasn't—" she starts, but cuts herself off with a frustrated grunt, tearing her eyes away from him to focus back on goddamned Washington. Protesting the misinterpretation is pointless. She's told him to give Theta up too many times in the past for him to believe her.

Maybe she should just leave on her own, anyway. Turn on her heel and leave him and Washington to whatever plan she's becoming sure the latter is here to drag them into.

Yeah. She should leave.

She doesn't leave.

Watching them fight is a little like knowing they're standing on train tracks and seeing a light in the distance. The only comfort is that it's too far off to be an immediate problem, at least for now.

North turns to him, and Wash returns the favor, ignoring South's bitten off protest. (What does Wash get out of this? It looks suspicious for Wash to want something with no strings attached, but the strings here aren't ones Wash wants to trace.)

"Let's just say we take this thing out, you keep your AI on you and protected, and we never speak of this again. How's that sound?"

His eyes slide towards South without his helmet moving.

North doesn't trust like that, at least not anymore. Wash is still the person they know is working for Command. He's still the one they left behind when they defected.

"Sounds too good to be true," he replies. But his desire to be friends again with Wash takes him over enough to cause him to take another step in Wash's direction. "Tell me why you'd help us without getting anything in return."

Outwardly, Wash doesn't immediately react. Inwardly, Wash is cursing as he scrambles for a response. Can't let it happen again, can't get there too late to make things right, he can't do this alone--

"I'm Recovery One," Wash snaps, more testily than intended. "And I can't recover any of you later if the Meta's gotten to you first."

Damn. That wasn't a great one, but he's gone and said it now, and he has to run with it.

Wash slices a hand through the air. "Once it's done with its targets, there's nothing left. How do you think it reflects on my record when every time I'm too late?"

The words taste sour and bitter, and for a moment Wash holds his breath, wondering if he's just lost both of them.

Oh, my god, he’s a fucking idiot, is her first thought. It’s the first thing about this encounter that almost makes her want to laugh instead of scream.

“Dude. How the fuck is that supposed to reassure us that you’ll let us go and we’ll ‘never speak of this again’, huh? Not gonna look great on your record if we bail with the lightbulb when everything’s said and done either, is it?”

(And it won’t look great on her record if Washington reports back that she’s with North. Much as she hates to say it, it’s becoming clear the best case scenario for her here is a deal with this asshole where they agree not to say a word, but that was a piss poor attempt at assurance.)

North had been giving too many concessions, he realizes, stepping closer and lowering his gun the way he had. He reaches for the gun again, but doesn't pull it out.

"Sounds like the kind of situation where it would look better if you could bring us in unharmed, doesn't it?"

Shit. He's messed up: his argument was the kind of thing that might've worked with the Sim Soldiers, once, but it definitely doesn't fly here. And now... Wash mentally takes stock of his own weapons, looking from twin to twin. He doesn't reach for any, but he's too still to be casual.

"Command doesn't even know I'm here," he tries again. "They can't count it against me if no one says anything, and--calm down." He raises a hand towards North, trying to think Freelancer. How can he gain their trust, like they're back in--

... He really is an idiot. Since when were they were ever truly a team?

"Look." He'd better not screw up this time. Otherwise he'll be facing the Meta alone. "We don't trust each other, but if we can't come to some kind of truce, the Meta is going to destroy everything. We can't face it by ourselves, not when it's growing stronger with each Freelancer it kills!"

“Destroy what, Washington? The fuck is there even left to destroy? Yeah, okay, it’ll come after us for Theta—but if we can get far enough away,” she glares over at her brother again, “then why the fuck would we risk our asses in a fight? If it has as many AI and units as you say it does then the fuck guarantee do we have even three of us is enough?”

Cheap, again. She still very much planned to fight it, but her plan was never to win, it was just to survive. To get out of there. With Theta in its grasp, it wouldn’t follow them anymore.

This is different. It sounds like Washington is talking about defeating the damn thing outright.

“Pretty weak argument, if you ask me.”

"As weak as saying you'll run when I've already proven to you that you're easy to find?" Wash's fists are clenched at his sides, and he really, really wants to shoot her.

"If it wasn't for me, two of you would be dead by this time tomorrow. You can't run forever, and if the Meta's strong now, then he's only going to be unstoppable in the future."

She takes a little bit of satisfaction that she's riling him up. Not that it's that much of an achievement, working up the guy they only struck Article Twelve off the record of because they needed the manpower.

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Washington." She turns back to North again, gesturing vaguely at Wash. "North. C'mon. Please tell me you see how insane this is, too."

In other words: please, for the love of god, back me up on this one.

North is standing still and tall. He's rolling their arguments through his mind, discussing them with Theta.

"Theta wants to know if you have evidence," he says. "That what you're saying is true."

"Evidence of what part?" Washington shoots back, then pulls up short: one, half of what he's saying has no evidence because it's from the future. Two, it doesn't matter what he has or doesn't have, if he loses them now then it's all over.

"I have the case files for the last four recovery beacons," Wash immediately follows, spreading his hands. "The fact that I'm here is evidence enough that you're not as stealthy as you think you are. As for the Meta..."

He's so far in over his head, and he's still digging. "I have information on its strengths and weaknesses. But I can't share any sources for those without compromising them in the process."

Lies, more or less. Well--at least it's nothing new from being back in this time, is it?

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