Bleeding Out

Montgomery’s surprise at the fact that she’d thought of buying him something catches her off guard, in turn. Then again, this is the first time she’d actually mentioned her planned gift to the intended recipient. The rest were just drop offs at odd hours, when she didn’t have to see anyone react. She had not gotten around to delivering his before the illness struck.

But she’s not sure if she should have mentioned it at all, now. Was it a good ‘that was unexpectedly thoughtful of you’ surprise in his tone, or a ‘that’s really weird and creepy of you’ surprise? A sudden bashfulness creeps over her.]

Yeah, I did. Really. That’s not…too, um, forward, is it?

[Not that a book and a joke toy was really much to get excited over—it was just a friendly gesture, something she didn’t think too hard about at the time—but she could never tell where she stood in personal relationships. Were they actually friends? Was he just putting up with her, because the dumbest thing to do is piss off the medic?

Without giving him a chance to answer, Helena goes into default mode: painfully awkward babbling.]

Ah. I just figured, since we were given those black cards…I’d do a little shopping for a few individuals. Nothing extravagant. Just small things, mostly for fun. Or useful tools. Stuff to cheer people up, after… You don’t have to…um… It’s not a big deal.

No, no, it's definitely not, no...I just wasn't expecting it, that's all.

[And he honestly wasn't. When was the last time someone had bought him a present? Jeez...he honestly couldn't remember. It must've been for a birthday, but what one? He'd gotten that t-shirt from Caitlyn for his fifteenth, she probably got him something the next year too...]

Thank you, Helena, like...really.

[The thanks was sincere despite the fact he had no idea what she was giving him. His face relaxed as she started to ramble, and he couldn't help but wonder why she seemed to be uncomfortable and awkward most of the time - she was a good person, someone whose company he enjoyed compared to most on the ship, she was a hard worker and deserved that spot on the leader board... so why was she so insecure?]

Relax, Hels, I'm sure they loved them. Plus, it's not exactly common for someone to go out of their way like that for the Agents these days, so...it's a pretty big deal to them, I beat you.

The last time Olympia had tried cooking, it had ended up in a disaster. Not only had the cookies she’d been trying to cook come out more like misshapen lumps than an actual piece of food, but Candice had seen it as another chance to insult her. Since then, Olympia had avoided the kitchen like the plague. 

But in the days in between missions, when the halls were full of agents Olympia didn’t yet know and perhaps didn’t care to know, It was lonely and dull, training was always an option, and Olympia had done a lot of it…but she was starting to wonder if they’d ever get a chance to use that training, or if they’d just constantly be thrown into situations where pure luck decided whether they lived, died, or were crippled in cryo tubes. 

She was beginning to realize she needed something to do, outside of training. Otherwise, she’d go insane. 

So the agent ventured back to the kitchen, hoping that this time she could avoid meeting up with Candice and being mocked. As she entered the kitchen, the familiar surfaces of stainless steel greeted her eye. She always felt like a stranger in these kitchens, like she didn’t quite belong. A kitchen was no place for a soldier, but what else was a soldier to do in their free time? There wasn’t much on this bloody ship to interest people, even her teammates were boring. 

After she'd died, their kitchen had practically gone untouched. An occasional meal would be made in it, but nothing of the same quality ever made it past those doors. 

Montgomery rubbed roughly at his eyes as he looked in the fridge and cupboards, trying to get rid of the memories. The things he'd been running from his whole life were starting to catch up to him more and more lately, and that was the last thing he needed, especially since being part of the Project. He glanced between the eggs, milk and countless water bottles that were stored on the top shelf, as well as a bottle of wine that was clearly got the fact that if anyone touched it they'd get the cork shoved somewhere rather unpleasant, then realised that despite the fact he could name everything and knew what it was for, he couldn't cook for the life of him.

She tried to imagine what it would be like if she actually did have some special skills. Super strength was certainly her armour enhancement, but since she’d only had the opportunity to use it in training. She also had the ability to burn everything she tried to cook. Except for cereal. That just came out a tad too soggy. Yes, that would be her other ability. Burn the toast every time.

Augusta took the ball from him and felt their fingers brush. They just as coarse as she expected, something about the way he carried himself seemed like the kind of guy who had rough hands. Someone — like herself — seemed to have a past better left untouched. His shoulders told a story, she tried not to read too much of it as she lined the ball up for a shot. Bending over slightly, she pulled back to take the shot. She wondered how much he needed a win. 

"Yeah, sure, okay, man," her lips twitched up in amusement. On purpose her ass. 

But then, she spoke too soon, she cue clipped the corner of the white ball and went sailing into the nearest hole. She stood up and made a face. “Oh, you have to be fucking joking.” A hand fell to her hip and her head tilted slightly as she sighed. It wasn’t unlike her to have at least one bad shot, but one that bad was just an embarrassment. Augusta rounded the table and pulled the ball out of the corner hole, walking back over and holding it out to Montgomery. A look of disgust at the shot still clear on her face.

"I got cocky," she paused for a second. "That’s literally the story of my whole life."

And it was. For as long as she could remember she had allowed herself too much. In the end, it hadn’t landed her anywhere good. Twenty eight years old and she was already considered a lifer. Somewhere in the world, a girls her age were just finishing university, getting married, and starting careers. But here Augusta was, so close to the end she could almost taste it. It seemed like a waste.

“Seriously?”

She bit down in her thumb nail to keep a laugh back at the idea. Augusta had one dress that probably would have fit him just fine. Well, not comfortably, but fine. He wouldn’t be able to bend over, but that was the issue most women ran into in dresses anyway. That is, if she won anyway.

"Hey, you don’t know my wardrobe. I happen to have a dress that was just meant for you. Really,” her eyes flicked up and down the length of him. A smirk touching her lips, she tried to bite it down. Augusta cracked her knuckles. 

As their fingers made contact briefly, Montgomery couldn't help but wonder what power Augusta would have, given the chance. Those thoughts quickly vanished, however, as the cue ball once again disappeared from view. The Gamma whooped in delight, laughing as Augusta went around the table rather grudgingly to retrieve the ball. The good ol' walk of shame, as a couple of his pool buddies used to call it. His smile faded slightly as he caught Augusta's expression when she held the ball out to him, and he clapped her on the shoulder as he held out his palm for her to drop it into. "It's just a game, remember?" The comment was a bit unfair, seeing as he would've fought back if it was aimed at him, even if it was jokingly, but it was out there now. 

He threw the white ball in the air and caught it, then moved to put it back on the table when she spoke. 

"I got cocky. That's literally the story of my whole life."

There was something about that comment that made his freeze - maybe it was how raw and truthful it sounded compared to everything else they'd been throwing back and forth; maybe it was that she was finally giving him a better insight to herself, despite the fact she had no reason to do so; or maybe it was because he could relate so well to the statement. Everything that had gone wrong in his life that was on him was for that exact reason - he'd gotten cocky. He still was, but definitely not to the extent he had been in the past.

Montgomery scowled as Augusta started laughing and shook his head as he walked towards the table. Examining the remaining balls, he placed the cue ball carefully on the line and took his shot, hitting one of his balls, but not sinking it when he easily could have. Suddenly and despite the threat of having to wear a dress for fourteen hours, this game wasn't about winning any more. 

"I hate you."

"You’re dead to me."

"I trust you."

"I’m dying."

"I’m pregnant with your baby."

"I never really loved you."

"I want you. Naked. In my bed. Now."

"I’m proud of you."

She swatted the back of his knee lightly with her cue. “I don’t like you anymore.” But still, a sort of smirk danced on her face as she circled around to figure out her next move. Augusta leaned down to make her next shot, methodical in her choice. It was a big picture kind of game, and she appreciated that. She was kind of a big picture woman. They went hand in hand. She took the shot as he continued on speaking, kind of half laughing while watching the ball slide carefully into it’s hole. It wasn’t a risky shot, she was being careful. Too careful. 

There had been a time not long ago when she took too many risks, put herself and other in danger. She had survived the first eight years by sheer luck, in the other two years she had pushed forward in a different direction. She pushed herself to the edge, over the edge. Turned herself into a machine of efficiency, but then, there was always the bite of spice to it. The vivacious passion she had carried with her in her early days as an ODST. That felt like ages ago. She had been a different person then.

"See, you’re lucky you have the image of me heaving into a bucket burned into your memory. You know why? Because you’d just be too intimidated when I told you that this is post-workout me,” she paused for added effect and held up a hand as if to stop him. “I know, it seems impossible. I have incredible genetics. I am — in fact — superhuman.”

Augusta sat on the edge of the table and took another shot, this one bounced off the side and took it’s final resting place just on the edge of the hole. She tapped the table with her foot and the ball went in. A small smile played on her lips, a look of amusement on her face. She imagined it almost distracted from the dark circles under her eyes or the tired slump of her muscles. Two hours of sleep, that was all she had. And she considered herself lucky for it. Long ago she had abandoned the idea of a full night’s sleep, and by this point, if it weren’t for the split ends and the puffy eyes she might have said it was overrated. She yawned just thinking about it.

In the four hours since waking up panicked, this was the first time she could get the feeling of cold fingers against her back out of her head. Well, mostly, anyway. Every time she closed her eyes for too long she could almost feel them creeping up her spine. Augusta reached up behind her back and massaged the place where the creeping feeling lingered, as if to remind herself that nothing was there. The touch only alerted her to the aching muscles that spasmed slightly in her back. 

He leaned his forearms against the table as Augusta moved forward to take her shot, stretching his legs out behind him, then clapped rather awkwardly as another ball disappeared from sight. It wasn't anything spectacular, but half the Agents on the Equinox wouldn't have been able to make it. "You're not half bad, Agent." He was half-tempted to ask where she'd gotten so good, but the past was a no-go zone with him, so who was to say it'd be any different with Augusta?

Montgomery stood up as she spoke, narrowing his eyes as he looked at her, seemingly shocked at this revelation. "Well, damn, I never would've guessed. If I could look half as good as you do after exercising, I'd do it more often. And judging by the way this game is going, sure, I'll buy into the superhuman thing." He took a few slow steps towards her and bent down to her level when he was a foot away, studying her carefully. Obviously, he could see nothing out of the ordinary, but at this distance, the shadows under her eyes were a lot clearer. It looked like she was getting even less sleep than he was. "Tell me this - any more powers on top of the 'staying good looking post work out' thing?"

He took a step back as she walked around him to get to the table, about to protest the fact that she was taking two shots in a row, then decided it wasn't doing any harm as far as him winning went. There were eight balls left on the table now - they had three each to sink, then of course there was the cue and infamous 8 ball. If anything, the fact that there wasn't much on the table now made the whole thing a lot easier. Montgomery lined up his next shot. He managed to sink the solid red ball no problem, but he dropped his head and cursed when the cue ball disappeared with it. 

"Pool beats running any day of the week," Montgomery commented lightly as he walked round the table to retrieve the white ball, a slight grin on his lips. "I mean, you exercise you arms and your brain, which is definitely what a few of our fellow Freelancers as in dire need of." Cue ball in hand, he approached Augusta and held it out to her. "Just remember that I did that on purpose when you beat me, okay?"

Mr. Awesome would have to be earned. Sorry, sweetheart, but you’ll have to stick with Bear for now.

I’m sick, Bear. But I’ll live.

[He grinned, then, lopsided.] 

Fine. But I will earn it, just you wait and see...

Apparently we're all sick, but I don't have a cough like that. 

[The Gamma shook his head and rolled his eyes.]

What’s worse are the Gamma’s reasons for being wary. Because it means they disagree on a very delicate, very controversial subject.

She wants to say this: They are superior. They are stronger, faster, ultimately smarter in the intellectual sense—better than humans. They recalculate and adapt. They don’t get sick. Their bodies can be repaired effortlessly. Painlessly. They can exist without a physical form, and be put into new ones when the old models fail, essentially achieving virtual immortality. Tell me, how is that not superiority?

But that’s an unpopular opinion; many, if not most, of her human colleagues would never admit to being less or weaker than their own creations. They think themselves gods, when they should be scared, if they had any common sense. Were it not for their present war against the Covenant, a common enemy who would destroy both of their species without discrimination, would the A.I.s even really need humans in the future?

Instead, she bites back the response. Withdraws. Helena doesn’t want to get into this with him, not now, and probably not ever if she can help it. Fear of loneliness and isolation is a powerful form of censorship. She shrugs, feigning innocence. Playing dumb.]

He talks a lot. But he’s also prone to changing his beliefs. Frankly, he’s no more dangerous or unpredictable than anyone else on board, human or A.I. You know how many incidents between agents I’ve had to clean up after these past few months? Too many. Lot of brutes, you are.

[Her wry smile is tight, forced as she blatantly breezes past the topic, heading straight for the jokes. For safety. She doesn’t have it in her to argue, to lose any more people, least of all by pushing them away.]

And the more he thought about it, the less he honestly blamed her. Sage was far from perfect, he would admit that, but if anyone had come to him and made the sort of statement he just had, they'd be getting an earful. Getting shouted at would be better than the silence though - it was easier to deal with.

So maybe complaining about the 'superior' rant Orion had give him wasn't the best angle to go off. Montgomery had admitted to himself that the A.I.s were, and anyone could see that. It was the way Orion had said it, like he was going to stage a revolution and take over the Equinox, then do who knows what to the Agents to figure out what 'real emotions' were. 

Montgomery opened his mouth to say something along the lines of 'Have you heard the guy go off on one of his rants?', but quickly changed his mind. Instead, he smirked slightly in regards to her finishing statement and ducked his head.]

We're just lucky we've got someone so willing and capable on board to fix us up. I'm sure if you just left someone to bleed out in the hallway, the rest of us would learn a bit of self-control.

[It doesn't take much to see that the smile is fake - Helena was obviously one of the Agents who needed a bit more practice when it came to the whole 'lying about your feelings' thing. It was the fact that he'd put it there that made Montgomery's stomach drop.]

Damn, that would've been good - just think of how impressed you'd be with my vocab the next time we talk. You...got me something? Really?

Augusta was a hell of a lot mellower than Leyna ever had been. She was more of an embodiment of everything she had wanted to be. An idea rather than the reality. Strong, unbreakable, always fast to smiles and laughter. Leyna hoped that the longer she kept it up the closer it would come to being a reality. 

He clapped and she did a mock courtesy, pulling the ends of her baggy shirt out like the edges of a dress. It threw her right back to high school, every courtesy after every dance recital. She rolled her eyes at the memory. When she was eighteen she had traded leotards for drop pods. It was a decision she had never regretted. 

Her smile widened as he moved forward, she opened up her hand towards the table. Offering him to give it his best shot. She made a note not to embarrass him too much, he seemed like he was going through a tough enough time as it was. “Why not do both, eh? And who says you’ll win…” Oh god. The lines on this guy were unbearable. And yet, he managed to make them work. He permeated a smoothness, even with snot running down his face, and even looking like he had just risen from the grave. She wasn’t sure if it made him attractive, or annoying.

As he moved to set up his shot though… Well, she certainly wasn’t complaining about the view. Or, she wasn’t complaining until he executed a pretty excellent shot. She put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. Competition after all. She wasn’t sure if she liked this or not. But still she took her cue and rounded the table, taking in the whole picture. She was good at objectivity, it made her good at playing the boards. Never play her in a game of monopoly, the strategy was strong with this one.

She moved to line up her shot and glanced up at him before hitting the white ball. ”I was saying lucky shot,” as soon as the words escaped her, she connected with the ball and nicked the corner of a striped ball that rolled lazily into the hole. Gus straightened up and leaned against her cue again. 

The fact that she followed up his applause with a curtsy made the situation all the better, and he made note that when he was in a mindset like he had been the past few weeks, he would beeline straight in the direction of the Agent standing before him. She wasn't any work to be around, unlike most of the people he had some sort of relationship with on the Equinox. Well, either her or Nashville. He almost questioned what the eye roll was about, then decided against it. Keep it light, keep it informal, keep it not awkward....

He'd seemed to shock her slightly with his flawless shot and that caused him to chuckle. "Rule number one of the Equinox: never, and I mean ever, underestimate anyone, especially when it comes to seemingly random skills." The comment was said to add amusement more than anything else, but there was a lot of truth behind it. "Pretty much all I'm saying is don't be surprised when you walk into the kitchen in the middle of the night, expecting it to be empty, only to find one of the Project's toughest baking cupcakes in a flowery apron."

Montgomery narrowed his eyes as Augusta stepped forward confidently, lined up another shot, then carefully watched her technique as she shot a ball straight into the pocket. Maybe he'd finally found someone he could play what other deemed as stupid, waste of time games with... "Is that so?" He raised an eyebrow as he stepped forward and went around the opposite side of the table, examining the table before him. His eyes widened slightly as he spied the perfect shot - well, it'd be perfect and pretty damn impressive if he managed to pull it off - then glanced up at Augusta mischievously. "Check this out." He positioned himself in such a way that the cue ball would hit one of his own that was near the centre of the table, rather than one that was practically sitting at the corner and was seemingly the logical choice. His cue hit the white ball with a satisfying dink and it rolled forward, steering the one in the centre towards the corner. It collided with it and fell into the pocket, and a second later, the second ball slowly rolled forward and disappeared too. 

I’d be lying if I said I’d never once given thought to venting him, but… [Shit, that’s cold, isn’t it? Thank goodness the neural link is down—for whatever reason, though this time was most likely intentional—otherwise she would never admit to it.] Every partnership has its ups and downs, right?

[And that’s all she’ll say about that. How she handles her A.I. is her own business, as the way he works with Sage is his.

Predictably, he doesn’t reply with any further words of agreement—but he doesn’t outright protest her points, either. That’s as much as Helena expects, and it’s still better to have said what she did than nothing at all. Perhaps selfishly so, though part of her would like to believe that her perspective has given him something to consider. Even if he won’t share his feelings—and that’s valid, she doesn’t usually vent like this, either—at least he’s introspective enough to have them.

Nevertheless, she doesn’t mind his obvious deflection. Humour is a working antidote to the mode of despair she’s been living in for far too long. It’s easier on both of them, and they’ve been through enough already, so she just goes with it.]

For your sake, better I possess that than misanthropy, or negligence. Wouldn’t that be fun, if you heard the medic say ‘oops’ while they were poking around inside you?

Yeah, I guess they do.

[He didn't voice the fact that the only time he'd wanted to airlock Sage was before she had even been implanted, a feat that would've been impossible, seeing as out of all the places on the Equinox, the labs were pretty much the most secure. Well, it was likely that the Director's office was even more so, but the challenge of breaking into it had never appealed to Montgomery...]

But don't you think he's...jeez, I don't know, dangerous? And I'm not just saying that cause he knocked me out or whatever - it was the way he was speaking before all that, about how A.I.s are 'superior' and all that.

[He didn't want to vent to Helena about her A.I. or force his opinions on her, or even think about Orion in general, but since they were on the topic, he figured he might as well go for it. It wasn't like the atmosphere in the room could get any dimmer, after all. 

But it could always get lighter, even if it was forced or faked.]