#agent wasington

can i get uuuuuuh locington?

After the debrief, Wash finds them.

They’re tucked away in the ship, holed off in one of the engine rooms that is a little more stable than the rest. It’s a dark place, damp, and while the machinery has long failed, it still hums as Wash steps past the entryway into the main room. There’s a few ceiling tiles missing, most of them littering the floor, and one of the generators has rolled over entirely, nothing more than a collapsed pillar of this once great display of engineering. 

That’s where he finds them, tucked behind the pillar like school children hiding in the dark. Tucker’s still in Maine’s armor, only his helmet and gauntlets off, and Wash can see a crack in the faceplate where Tucker likely punched it. Caboose’s armor is off all together, it was too damaged in the fight, and he sits in only his under body suit, shivering in the cold.

It’s hard to tell who’s clinging to who. 

“He’s gone. He’s gone and he left-” Caboose is speaking at a rapid pace, voice high pitched and lost. His fingers are digging into Tucker’s armor, trying to grab for stability. It’s useless, Wash can tell, they’re both shaking too hard.

“That asshole. We could have done it. He didn’t have to. Not for me-” Tucker’s voice is more angry than lost, rage trying to fill the void that Epsilon left. Trying to light a fire in the dark space that he now has to live with.

Wash closes his eyes. Epsilon’s lost hurts, but not in a painful way. He was failing. He knew what was coming. He saved his friends. Wash’s family.

Wash walks forward. If they notice him approaching, they don’t mention it, and when he drags them both into his arms, neither resists. Caboose is the first to cling to Wash’s shirt, and soon Tucker follows. They don’t stop talking.

“He was my best friend-”

“I hate him so much, he was supposed to be here with us”

“I know,” Wash says. “I know.” He tilts his head up towards the hole filled ceiling. Past the remaining tiles, he can see the stars.

Wash knows A.I’s likely don’t have an afterlife. They’re data. But he sends up a prayer just in case.