#littlefists

Felix’s knife tasted of metal, both from the blood that coated it and from the blade itself. Wash tried to pull his tongue away but there wasn’t anywhere for it to go as Felix pressed the edge of the knife against it. He wondered if Felix was going to cut swiftly or hack his tongue of slowly. He had a feeling, as the blade began to bite, Felix wasn’t going to make any of this swift.

The door to his cell opened with a slam accompanied with a loud “Felix!”. Felix whipped around, though he was still straddling Wash, pulling his knife out of Wash’s mouth. The blade didn’t cut through but it did cut down the side and a bit of his cheek and lip, surprising Wash into letting out a soft cry of pain and sputter blood down his chin. He opened his eyes to see Locus standing in the doorway. Despite being in full armour, it was clear that Locus was not pleased in the slightest.

“WHAT?!” Felix snarled, glaring harshly at Locus. His chest was rising and falling heavily, as if he had just ran a great distance.

“Get off him and get out here.” Locus’s words were curt, and he sounded a little disgusted with Felix. Wash recalled what he had said before, about not drawing out someone’s death, but it was hard to focus between the pain and ringing in his ears from when Felix kicked him to the floor.

Felix took a heavy breath and looked back down at Wash. His eyes glinted at the sight of Wash’s face covered in blood and he gripped Wash’s jaw again. “I’ll finish this later, Washy. You rest up now.” Despite his now calm tone, the grip on his jaw was nearly cracking and, as he leaned away, the pat he gave Wash’s cheek was closer to a slap.

Wash grunted as Felix roughly got off him, staying on the ground until he heard the cell door close and for a few moments after that, before finally managing to roll over onto his side to spit out a mouthful of blood. His stomach felt nauseous from pain and the amount of blood he had swallowed, but at least the blood was from cuts and a broken nose rather than internal bleeding.

It took him several minutes and twice as many attempts to get up into a sitting position, legs out in front of him, and he scooted back to get his back against the wall. It was cold, given his being shirtless, and Wash shivered. His blood, some of it still wet, was staining the ground in front of him, and he had created a trail to where he had dragged himself. Wash swallowed, unfortunately swallowing a little more blood, trying to keep himself calm. The wound on his side and the line down his chest hurt, especially when he expanded his chest to breathe.

Wash rested his head gingerly against the wall, wincing slightly as he put pressure on where he hit his head on the floor. He had to stay calm and in control. Couldn’t let Felix get any sort of pleasure out of seeing him panicked and scared. And even if Felix was only doing this for himself, there was nothing to say he wouldn’t start prodding for information, however inaccurate a panicked Wash might be. And if Wash kept his head, then there was no way he’d risk the Armies, Carolina, or the Reds and Blues. It was bad enough hearing his team scream at him over the radio before Locus had pried it off, let alone having to live with the knowledge that something he said caused them direct harm.

Wash closed his eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing of his wounds and head.

The next time his cell door opened, it was a medic and an armed guard. The medic roughly patched him up, dressing the wounds and making sure they were clean. The cuts inside his mouth had already scabbed up, but the medic did make a note of “no solids”, under his breath. Wash stayed still and silent the entire time, not wanting to agitate guard nor medic.  

It seemed Felix was serious about letting Wash heal, at least once, because the next few times his cell opened it was either to bring him some slop of food and water which had to be fed to him due to his hands being tied, or the medic changing his wounds. Several meals went by, though Wash highly doubted he was being fed three times a day, before Felix and Locus returned.

“Heeeeeey there Washy~” Felix nearly cooed as he stepped into the cell. Like before, he was helmet-less though still in his power armour. He sauntered up to where Wash was currently backed against the wall and grinned down at him. “How you feeling? Got some pep back in you?”

Wash kept his head down, avoiding giving Felix any sort of attention. Felix wanted a reaction, wanted Wash to fight and curse and scream. He knew Felix would hurt him, whatever he did, but it was satisfying watching Felix’s grin strain at the lack of acknowledgement. He did, however, take note of Locus leaning against the, now closed cell, door. Perhaps he was there to make sure Felix didn’t go too far, cut too deep.

Wash hoped that’s why he was there.

A pair of hands roughly grabbed him, one by his upper arm, the other clenching his hair by the roots, and Wash was hauled to his feet, pulled forward and slammed back against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. “I’d pay attention to me when I’m talking to you, Washy.” Felix hissed, hand going from Wash’s arm to squeeze down on Wash’s neck. Not hard enough to choke him, but enough that it was making it difficult for Wash to catch his breath properly. “It’s only going to be so much worse for you if you don’t.”

Wash met Felix’s eyes. They were icy blue, opened wide and manic, and not for the first time Wash found himself wondering just how much of a grip Felix had on his sanity. During his time working with the Feds, he had been warned about Locus’s mental state, his cruel if efficient nature, how he saw himself as a soldier, a weapon, first and a person second. That was only reinforced by the stories from the News, once the two armies were joined together.

As he stared into Felix’s eyes Wash was fairly sure that, of the two, Locus was far the more human.

When Wash still didn’t speak, Felix squeezed down harder, causing Wash to cough. The strain on his mouth caused the wound in his cheek split a little, and he tasted blood.

“Felix…” came Locus’s warning growl. Felix made a show of rolling his eyes in response, glancing back towards Locus briefly, before his grip on Wash’s neck loosened. Wash quickly sucked in a breath as Felix grumbled, “yeah yeah,” before stepping back and throwing Wash back to the floor.

Once again Wash was unable to catch himself, hitting the ground hard. He groaned as his head rattled and the world spun, quickly shutting his eyes to stave off the dizziness and nausea, pushing his head against the cool metal floor. He felt the now familiar weight of Felix settle onto his back, a gauntlet wearing hand pressing down between his shoulder blades. “It’s a good thing Locus is here to keep you safe, isn’t it?” Felix hissed by his ear, almost masking the sound of a knife scraping against its sheath. He grabbed a fist of hair again, pinning Wash’s right side of his head to the ground. “Me, I’d rather leave you in blood heap, barely able to think, but Control wants you mostly coherent and able to speak. Lucky you.”

Something sharp pricked above Wash’s left shoulder blade and dig down, causing Wash to let out a muffled groan against the pain, gritting his teeth hard. “But,” Felix continued, dragging his knife down in a slow line before lifting it and starting again elsewhere on his back, “I think I deserve a little bit of fun don’t you? It’s been all work work work with these guys, and let me tell you, it’s just so good to let loose and enjoy myself. Keeps the mind fresh, as they say.”

He continued to cut into Wash’s back, his hand and weight keeping Wash steady, even as Wash’s instincts told him to squirm, run! The cuts he was making went from the left of Wash’s upper back to the right, Felix falling uncharacteristically silent as he worked. Wash kept his groans of pain muffled, though it was beginning to overwhelm him a little.

“There, perfect.” Felix’s grin was evident in his voice as he he lifted his weight just enough to roll Wash onto his back. “I’ll have to get you a mirror later. Wouldn’t want my handy work to go unappreciated.” He chuckled, sounding surprisingly good natured about it.

Wash found that to be very worrisome.

Felix’s eyes searched Wash’s face, that manic look still there, and he must have found something he was looking for because his grin grew wide as his eyes darkened. “You know, you look really good like this Washy~” he leaned down, bringing his knife up to press the flat side against Wash’s throat. “All bloody and flush under me. Shame about those freckles though.”

Wash did his best not to roll his eyes at the pointless comment. He had long since been insecure about his looks, and if Felix thought that was going to get under his skin-

“I wonder what Tucker would look like if I had him like this?”

Wash went stiff underneath Felix, only for a moment, but Felix definitely noticed as he threw his head back and laughed.

“What did I tell ya Locs’?” He turned to look over his shoulder. “Knew that get a raise out of him.” In a blink, Felix was bearing back down on him, face less than an inch away from his own. “You know, Washington, originally I was thinking of killing you first while I made Tucker watch, before starting on him. But I think it’d be so much better if I had you both strapped down in here, taking turns on each of you, forcing you to hear each other scream. What do you think? Think Tucker will break first or you?” The point of Felix’s knife was digging into his chest again, creating a new line of red pain. “Oh, I bet I could get Tucker to agree to anything if I promised to stop hurting you…”

Wash snapped his eyes to Felix’s again, gritting out a single “fuck you,” his body beginning to shake both from pain and nerves.

“Oh Washy,” Felix’s other hand cupped his face for a moment, “breaking you is almost enough of a reward on it’s own. I wonder if Control will let me have you when they’re done…”

The knife cut a thin line across Wash’s other cheek.

When Locus and Felix finally left, Wash did not move for a long time, other than quivering and sucking in breath after breath.

They don’t have him, he told himself, they don’t have Tucker. If they did, they wouldn’t just taunt you with him, he’d be in here. He clung to those thoughts, mindlessly repeating they don’t have him they don’t have your team you kept them safe until Wash slipped into unconsciousness.

**

The hands that Wash woke up to were gentle, not rough like the medics or bruising like Felix’s. His eyes cracked open, staring at the colourful blur in front of him. “Who-“ he choked before shutting his mouth out of instinct.

As his senses came to him slowly, Wash became aware of several coloured blurs. Teal, Blue, and Yellow. Sounds were reaching his ears now, and they sounded an awful like-

“Uh, Tucker, Carolina’s saying we like, gotta go. She doesn’t think the Reds can hold out much longer.”

The muffled, clearly indigent voice of Sarge came over someone’s radio, which was cut off with, “yeah yeah okay old man, Tucker come on!”

“Just give me a sec Kai! Wash, Wash are you with me?” Tucker’s voice was coming through clean, rather than filtered through a radio helmet. That would be because, Wash realized, that Tucker was not wearing his helmet.

“Tucker… Why the fuck aren’t you wearing your helmet…?” Wash tried to sound like a good, disciplined CO would, but his voice cracked too much for that. It had been a while since he used it and…

And they had come for him.

Tucker’s face split into a wide grin, though Wash noticed there was distinct fear in his eyes. “Yup, he’s good! Okay Wash, hold still…” The room was basked in a light blue glow as Tucker’s sword buzzed to life and brought down quickly between Wash’s ankles in quick succession. The metal rod keeping his legs apart was in several pieces on the floor, giving Wash mobility he hadn’t had in… Weeks? A month?

Tucker jammed his helmet back on and ducked behind Wash, undoing his hands. The ropes burned his wrists as they slid off, but the feeling of air touching them was grand enough Wash could forgive the sting. “Alright man,” Tucker helped him to his feet, “think you can run with us?”

“I-“ Wash began, uncertain as he stood on shaky legs, before he was cut off by the robotic voice of Freckles saying “TARGET ELIMINATED” three times in a row.

“Uh, Tucker,” Caboose held Freckles up higher, “I think we should be making with the running now? Like… Right now.” Freckles fired again, stating another two targets dead.

“Alright scratch that, looks like we’re carrying you. Caboose, hand Freckles to Sister and pick Wash up.”

“Okay! Freckles, you be good to Sister now okay?” Caboose quickly handed Freckles over to Kaikaina, who took Caboose’s place in the doorway of the cell.

“Alright you little BBgun, let’s do this!” She squared off.

“AFIRMATIVE.”

Wash, who was having a hard time registering the chaos around him, grunted as Caboose picked him up bridal style. “Agent Washington! It’s so good to see you again!” He was clearly beaming at Wash through his helmet, adjusting his grip on Wash so it wasn’t too tight.

“G-good to see you too Buddy…” Wash gritted teeth against pain, not wanting to scare Caboose.

Tucker’s sword was ignited again. “Carolina, we’re making our way back! We’ve got him. Let’s go people!”

His team took off running, with Kaikaina taking point, Caboose and Wash in the middle, and Tucker holding up the rear. As he bounced in Caboose’s arms, slowly starting to zone out from pain, Wash was aware of all the place he sore. His head was sore. His chest was sore. His back was sore. His wrists and ankles were sore.

But, as Caboose carried him to safety, as Kaikaina whooped for every enemy she and Freckles shot down, as Tucker shouted commands and took enemies down with his sword, Wash felt his heart soar.

**

One

Wash was placed immediately into emergency care once they reached Armonia, and nearly half the army wanted to see him. Dr. Grey was fighting to keep visitors out, though she allowed the Reds and Blues to visit during specified hours only. It meant Wash could recover in peace, without someone fussing over him or ranting about how they were going to rip Felix and Locus a new one or asking if he’d like them to sneak him a chocolate bar.

It meant that Wash was very lonely. No matter what he asked, Dr.Grey wouldn’t allow someone to stay with him after the first couple days. Tucker had protested that loudly, but in the end even he couldn’t force Dr. Grey to do anything she didn’t want to do.

“Dr. Grey, I’m doing fine…” Wash had argued after a few days of this, “they won’t be disturbing me- hell, I think I’d be doing better with some company.” Something to keep his mind off the events that happened, to make the time until he was released go faster.

Dr. Grey had only smiled gently at him as she looked up from her datapad. “It’s not just about you silly! I have many patients in my care, a lot of them dealing with very serious wounds or trauma like yourself. I understand that you would like to see them more often, but I have to think of the needs of everyone. Some people in here would not do well with all the extra noise!”

Wash had stopped arguing after that. She was right, of course, there were others in here, who all had people visiting them during visiting hours. As much as he loved his team… well he knew first hand how chaotic and loud they could be, especially when they got each other going.

Though he understood it, Wash had complained about it once to Tucker, while Carolina was within earshot. He suspected that was why he woke up not only to the soft beeps and lights of medical equipment but to the soft glow of Epsilon “sitting” on the edge of his bed, kicking his little legs back and forth.

“Wha- Epsilon?” Wash startled awake, a hand immediately flying to his implants when he didn’t see Carolina anywhere.

Epsilon was sitting one moment the next he was standing in the air above Wash’s chest, arms folded over each other. “Would you calm down? You’re going to wake someone up, Jesus. I’m not in your fucking implants, I’m going through the electrical equipment alright?”

Wash slowly lowered his hand from his neck, though he was still on edge. “Then- what the hell are you doing here?” He hissed, leaning in close while being careful about his wounds. “Is everything okay, does Carolina need something?” For a moment, Wash feared something was wrong. The only times Carolina sent Epsilon to Wash was when she needed his attention immediately-

Except Epsilon was looking sheepish, arms going from being folded over his chest to awkwardly hugging his shoulders before dropping limply at his side. “Uh, no, Carolina didn’t send me. Not… exactly per say.”

Wash blinked. In all his time engaging with Epsilon, shy was never an emotion he had seen from him. Certainly not around Wash. “Then why exactly?” he asked, almost tempted to give Epsilon a hand to walk onto, as he had seen Carolina do so many times before.

When Epsilon didn’t answer him immediately, instead awkwardly gesturing with his hands and head, it dawned on Wash that it wasn’t just shyness Epsilon was feeling.

It was worry.

“Were you… Were you worried about me?” His jaw fell open, eyes widening slightly.

Wash could have sworn for a moment Epsilon’s avatar flashed pink as he sputtered indignantly, “what- no I wasn’t- no I’m not- Carolina was worried, okay?!” He turned sharply from Wash, shoulders hiked up to his ears. “I’m just keeping an eye on you for her.” He paused for a moment before looking over his shoulder. “And… For like Caboose and Tucker and Sister. They’re pretty worried too. So, Carolina and I figured, if we can’t get anyone with a physical body to keep you comp- to keep an on you, why not send the vastly superior, intelligent, and handsome AI unit instead?” Church looked away again, head tilted up slightly.

Wash stared at his tiny, glowing form for a moment, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile. “Thanks Church,” he said softly, holding back a chuckle as Church became indignant again.

“Oh shut up asshole.”

Things were quiet for a time, and Wash was finally beginning to feel sleep drag him down once more, before Church softly said, “Hey, just so you know- I’d never jump in your implants, okay? Not without permission or something.”

Wash isn’t sure if they’d ever get there, but he felt warm as he fell asleep.

**

Two

Wash was having nightmares again. They hadn’t been so bad in the infirmary, where the artificial sleep of drugs made him sleep too deeply for dreams. But now that he had been cleared and sleeping back in his own room, they came readily and Wash often found himself waking with a scream in his throat more than once a night, drenched in sweat. He spend his days exhausted, half remembered nightmares circling inside his mind, dreading the time when the sun dipped down and it’d start all over again.

One night he must have been screaming before waking up because he was quietly, violently shaken awake by Caboose, who was whispering, “Agent Washington! Agent Washington wake up!”

Caboose was lucky Wash had stopped sleeping with a pistol under his pillow and that the pain from straining upon sitting up stopped him from lashing out in panic. “C-Caboose,“ he gasped, trying to get his rapidly beating heart under control, “what are you-“

“You were screaming. I woke up first this time so it was my turn to check on you.” Caboose said matter of factly. It took time for Wash’s eyes to adjust, but he saw that Caboose was standing by Wash’s bed in his pyjamas, a large… something bundled up in his arms. “This time though, it sounded very bad, so I decided you needed some help! And I think I was right- I haven’t heard you scream like this since we rescued you from Side-Snow.”

“Sidewinder.” Wash corrected gently, then sighed. “Caboose, you should know not to wake me up like that, not by my head and arms… If you have to, grab my foot. I could hurt you otherwise.” Though Wash wished he hadn’t needed to at all. It was bad enough his nightmares were keeping him up, let alone disrupting anyone else’s sleep.

“Oh, I think I would have been just fine. I am very strong. But here!” And he thrust the bundle towards Wash. “This is my hugging blanket!”

Wash blinked slowly, taking it gingerly from Caboose. The material itself felt very soft and smooth, but there was a weight to the blanket Wash wasn’t expect and he left it fall into his lap. “Your… what sorry?”

“Hugging blanket!” Caboose repeated enthusiastically. “Dr.Grey had it made for me. See, she said that when I get very scared or upset, or if there’s too many things happening, I should wrap myself up in this blanket because it will feel like I am being hugged and she is right it helps me calm down when bad things happen. So I think you should use it.”

“Oh- it’s a weighted blanket?” Wash clarified as he unfolded the blanket to get a better feel for it. He remembered when the idea was first suggested by Grey to help Caboose adjust and stay calm at the base if no one was available to help him calm down. It had been a hit with him and Caboose could sometimes be seen eating in the mess hall with it wrapped around him.

“Hugging blanket.” Caboose corrected with a nod.

Wash smiled and shook his head. “Caboose… That’s very kind of you but I think you need this more.” He began to hand the blanket back to him, smiling at Caboose now. “I wouldn’t want to leave you without this.”

“Don’t be silly Washington, I am not going to be sleeping without it! We are going to be sharing beds tonight after all.”

Wash choked on his next breath of air, sputtering, “Caboose…! I don’t think- you really don’t need to do that. I’m fine really, thank you for checking on me but you should just go back to bed-“

“Washington,” Caboose said very softly and Wash fell silent. After a moment Caboose continued, “when Church went away, you took care of me.You made the bad thoughts go away, and made me feel very safe and warm. Well this time you are the one who is having bad thoughts. And I would like to help them go away please.”

Caboose was staring at him, the warmth of his eyes noticeable to Wash even in the dark of the room. Wash sighed softly and scooted over in his bed and pulled the covers back for Caboose to crawl in.

There were many assumptions Wash had made about Caboose and his sleeping habits and as it turned out they were all wrong. Caboose was not a loud sleeper, nor did he sprawl about the bed. He did squish up a little near Wash, it was a small bed and Caboose was not a small man, but he didn’t pull Wash in for a hug, or really touch Wash much at all, other than a small pat on the arm and a quiet goodnight.

The blanket did had a nice comforting weight as well. He could understand the term hugging blanket a lot better now and why Caboose liked it so much, and he could swear that all of Caboose’s warmth was transferring over to him. One of his thoughts as he nodded off late into the night was perhaps asking Grey if he could get one.

**

Three

Wash stood in the locker room of the training hall closest to his quarters, pausing as he went to put on his gym shirt. He had just had his bandages removed the other day, meaning all the scars Felix had left him were visible now. Some of they criss crossed across older scars, like the two down his chest or the few across his face, but others had been in entirely new places, like the one on his upper back. Wash hadn’t looked at that one yet. As Felix had been carving that one, there had been something different in his mannerisms than the other wounds he caused. Cold, quiet, rather than manic, rambling. He had taken his time, not just to make Wash suffer, but to precise. That made a portion of Wash nervous to see what Felix had done. Wash had a feeling he wasn’t going to like whatever it was.

Glancing over one shoulder than the other, he could just just see the pink lines beginning and ending the series of cuts Felix had made across his back. He couldn’t see enough to make out what it was, and would probably need a mirror to actually see it. Wash shook his head and sighed, slipping the t-shirt on all the way. No point in worrying about it now…

He had just finished pulling on his shirt when one Kaikaini Grif, already dressed in her gym clothing, walked in, her long wavy hair pulled back in a pony tail. Upon seeing Wash her entire face lite up and she let out an “Ow ow! Hot cop alert! Sup Wash?” She was next to him in an instance, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “You got the training block today too? Wanna help me work out?” she winked, giving him a little shake, “I can always use a spotter with my stretches.”

Wash pulled away, though he did nod as he did so. “Err, sure. I guess I can help out.”

Training with Kai turned out to be not so bad. He didn’t often train one on one with her, mostly just with the rest of the Blues, but this let him really get to know her limits and let him begin his strength training as Dr.Grey had ordered. She kept her conversation mostly clean too, only attempting to get him to “pop a boner” in her words two or three times.

By the time they were finished, both were sweaty, smiling, and overall enjoying themselves. Once again Wash found himself thinking quiet fondly of Kai. She fished her bag out from her locker, winking at him. “Well I’m going to hit the showers. Wanna join me?”

“They’re communal showers Kai.”

“Yeeeaaaah but do you wanna join me?”

“No thank you Kai.” Wash chuckled, a little weak. Dammit did she have to be so pretty, Wash thought as he turned to pull his shirt off.

There was the sound of Kai dropping her bag with a gasp of “That fucker!” and Wash stopped, shirt half pulled over his head. He’d forgotten about the scars.

He pulled his shirt off the rest of the way and slowly turned, balling the shirt in his hand. Kaikaina was standing a few feet away from him, hands clenched into fists and she was practically shaking with anger. “Well,?” he asked, all the humour and joy in his voice gone, “what’s there? I know he did… Something there. I haven’t looked yet, and Dr.Grey never told me what was there other than the fact it’ll scar. So what is it?”

It took Kai several moments to answer, her face scrunching up in what looked to be equal parts frustration, rage, and sympathy. “It’s… his name. That asshole wrote his name.”

Wash took a slow breath in, wringing his shirt in his hands. Logically, he knew it was no different than any other scar, but the idea of Felix acting like he owned him… “Wow. He really is a sick son of a bitch isn’t he?” And Wash threw his shirt against the way with enough force that the fabric hit the wall with a soft ‘thwap’ and fell limply to the ground.

Kaikaina was suddenly beside him, arms around his shoulders, and was attempting to guide him towards one of the benches. “Okay, it’s okay Wash, you just come sit down now,” she said softly.

Wash set his jaw and dug his heels into the ground. “Kaikaina, I’m fine,” he began, rage and frustration bubbling in his stomach as he fought against lashing out at Kai. She was just trying to help, he understood that, she didn’t serve him snapping at her-

Kai snapped her perfectly manicured hand in front of his face three times, cutting him off. “Now you listen to me, Mr Agent Wash Washington!” she scolded, now jabbing a finger into his chest, carefully avoiding a scar. “I am the motherfucking Queen of “I’m fine but I actually mean I’m having a breakdown I’m drowning oh god please help me”, so you are going to sit your ass down on this bench and we are going to have a heart to fucking heart.”

Normally Wash wouldn’t agree with any sort of forced helped, but looking at Kai, her face enraged not at Wash but for Wash, tears in her eyes, softened his heart and he allowed her to sit him down.

Kaikaina went from stern and tough to soft and gentle in a moment, rubbing her hands up and down his arms. The movement and pressure, to Wash’s surprise, worked. He slowly un-tensed, slouching a little on the bench.  “Alright Wash,” she spoke gently, squeezing him gentle, “I’ve got no idea how this feels. I mean, I get that it probably fucking sucks. Felix is a sick mother fucker. But…” she hesitated, biting down on her lip, “but those marks don’t mean anything. They’re just dumb new scars.” She suddenly perked and squeezed him closer. “Hey- if they’re really too upsetting, we could get you a cover up tattoo!”

Wash paused mid-deep breath, letting it out quickly as he turned to face her. “Tattoos? I… I guess. I never considered one before. Don’t really have anything important I’d like to have permanently etched onto my skin…” he glanced at her. “Do you have any…?” He’d assume Kai was the type to get a tattoo, but Wash couldn’t spot any on her currently exposed skin.

Kai smiled, lifting up the sleeve of her shirt to reveal a tattoo on her bicep. It was black ink, intricate geometric patterns that formed the shape of waves circling around her arm. “Yeah, I’ve got a few! Figure this one is the safest to share right now.” She winked at him, and Wash felt  himself flush wondering where those other tattoos were.

“It’s so simple… I didn’t think you’d be the kind of person to get something so… quiet.”

Kaikaina gave him a look. “You making assumptions about me Washington?” Wash flushed again, causing Kai to laugh. “Aw, I’m just teasing. But yeah, this is a traditionally done tattoo in my culture. All mine are. Grif’s got a couple too, but he’s also got a geeky-tattoo.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I bet we can find something to cover up your back. Maaaaybe…” she grinned at him, patting his shoulder, “Tucker’s full name?”

The fact Wash’s first thoughts were ‘that wouldn’t be so bad’ shocked him into letting out a loud laugh, which caused Kai to laugh with him. It was silly, that something so silly could make him laugh, but warmth was blossoming in his chest as Kai continued to work her magic. She could make anyone smile.

The two of them didn’t move from the locker room, their laughter echoing down the hall.

**

Four

Wash had been spending more and more time with Tucker as of late. It started off with Tucker eating with him at every meal, sitting next to Wash, their knees almost touching. Then, once Wash was cleared to exercise,  Tucker would join him almost every time. He’d make sure Wash got back to his room alright at night and was the first person Wash saw in the morning. Normally, that kind of babysitting would irritate him. But Wash found… he didn’t mind it so much with Tucker. In fact he was rather liking it.

So when Tucker said “night Wash,” and turned to leave Wash’s doorway, Wash didn’t think it was so weird that he reached out and grabbed Tucker’s sleeve, tugging him back. But then Tucker turned, giving him a questioning look, and Wash felt his tired confidence leave him in one breath.

“Err,” Wash dropped Tucker’s sleeve and taking a step back. “Night Tucker.” Except now Tucker was reaching for his hand now and he was holding his hand and he was walking into Wash’s room and closing the door softly behind him and Wash was fairly certain half his brain had shut down as Tucker pulled Wash against his chest. For a moment it was just the two of them, breathing softly, then Wash was backing up again, leading Tucker over to his bed. The two of them sat down, Tucker’s arm wrapped around Wash with a hand on his waist and Wash’s slowly putting his head on Tucker’s shoulder.

Wash realized in that moment how much he fucking needed this.

It was a while before either of them spoke, and it was Tucker who spoke first, breaking Wash’s heart in the process.

“We should have found you faster.” Tucker’s voice was steady, quiet, but his eyes were downcast, his hand gripping down on Wash.

“No, Tucker,” Wash was speaking just as softly, sitting up straight. After a moment’s hesitation, he put his hand on Tucker’s chin and lifted his head up. Tucker looked frustrated and mad, though his face softened upon meeting Wash’s eyes. Wash’s hand moved, slowly, from Tucker’s chin to the back of his head, pressing their foreheads together. “Tucker… You came right on time…”

He felt Tucker stiffen and relax, his eyes closing as he leaned into Wash’s touch. His free hand also came up, hesitantly combing through Wash’s hair, well away from Wash’s implants. Wash relaxed in turn, tingles running down his spine from Tucker touching his hair.

“Shit man…” Tucker muttered, pressing closer against Wash. “When’s the last time someone played with your hair?”

Wash closed his eyes, remembering the feeling Felix wrench and pull him about by his hair. “… Too long.” He answered slowly, as he lowered his head to rest it on Tucker’s chest.

Tucker seemed to grow more confident as he played with Wash’s hair, still keeping his hand away from his neck, his fingers massaging gently into Wash’s scalp. “Well that’s a shame. Cause I think you’re melting in my arms and it’s pretty much the cutest shit I’ve seen. After Junior of course.”

Wash let out a tired chuckle, leaning into Tucker’s hand. “Hey… think you could… just keep doing that?”

Wash must have been more tired than he thought, because he could have sworn he felt Tucker press his lips to his head. His whole head felt warm was he blushing?

“Yeah man. Whatever you need.”

**

Five

Wash was on the floor of the pelican, a medic leaning over him and bandaging the various cuts and slashes that covered Wash’s entire body. It was possible that several of his ribs were cracked or even broken, and some of the wounds had become infected. Anytime the engine shuddered or chugged, the resulting turbulence would crack Wash’s head against the metal floor, causing his world to spin and threatening to knock him out.

Wash didn’t care about any of that. His gaze was focused on Caboose, Kai, and Tucker, all waiting to be by his side the moment the medic pulled away. He watched Caboose cry big blubbery tears, Kai bite down on her manicured nails, Tucker tug at his dreads, all exhibiting stress and exhaustion now that they were safely on the pelican and on their way to Armonia.

“That was risky…” Wash choked out as the three of them rushed to kneel by him. Kai took a hand, Caboose went to hug him before Tucker pulled him back and he instead taking his other hand, and Tucker kneeled by his head, keeping it still and safe from any further bumps.

“Well fuck yeah that was risky, but did you see us?” Tucker’s voice shook as he attempted to sound brave. “Fucking badasses saving your dumb ass from a bunch of assholes.”

“You could have been hurt-“ “Yeah,” Caboose sniffled loudly, rubbing at his nose and eyes, “but, Wash, you were REALLT hurt. In fact I think- I think you got a lot more hurt than any of us.” And he broke into tears again, sobbing out apologizes for not coming sooner.

Kai wrapped her other arm around him and pulled him in for a hug. “Besides Wash, we couldn’t just like leave you. Not after all you did for us…! You wouldn’t leave any of us behind.”

“I… Didn’t want any of you… If they had gotten you…” Speaking was really hard, Wash was realizing. He shook his head slowly, “I did it to keep everyone safe-“

“Wash,” Tucker said sternly, softly, his hands reaching down to cup Wash’s head and face, “there was no fucking way we were going to leave you to that, okay? We’d never leave you behind. We’ll always come for you, not matter what dumb hero shit you try to pull okay?”

Wash looked around from Kai, to Caboose, to Tucker. Everyone was blurry around him, and Wash wasn’t sure if that was from all the bumps his head had taken or the tears that were falling from his eyes. “I’ve got a good team…” He managed to say, reaching a hand up to clumsily pat at Tucker’s hands. Kai and Caboose’s hands joined him, and all of Blue team were gently holding hands.

“Hell yeah you do,” Tucker smiled at him. “Best fucking team in the whole god damn galaxy.”

The blindfold itches, butWash makes no move to remove it.

He’s still not sure ifthis is a dream or not, if he’s really free of the bumps and ridges of themetal box that had been his prison for weeks on weeks. This could be anotherhallucination, more vivid and fullbodied than any of the others he’d had. Itcould be some sort of fever dream, the smell of something more than hisunshowered self, the feeling of new clothes against his skin, the taste offresh food on his tongue.

He could be imaginingthis.

But as more time passes,Wash finds himself slowly starting to believe it.

This is real;the soft cotton of the blindfold around his eyes, the ungiving firmness of the hospitalbench that he sits on, and the warm, real presence of other people all aroundhim, even if he can’t see them.

Carolina squeezes hishand. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Wash rasps. She’snot wearing her armor anymore—he can feel the raised lines of her scars. It’skilling him not to be able to look at her face, to be able to reassure himselfthat this isn’t some kind of cruel trick on Felix’s part, stealing his friends’voices to gain his trust. But as the hours drag on, the paranoia fades.

Tucker presses againsthis other side, a warm, comforting presence. If it’s a trick, it’s a very goodone; they even got the scent of Tucker’s shampoo right. “How long do you haveto wear that thing?” He asks. Fingers tap against his temple, right above theblindfold.  

“For a few more hours, atleast!” Grey says, cheerful as ever. “Light hurts a lot right now, much betterto give him time to adjust slowly!”

Wash nods. The room he’sin now is large, large enough that he can’t hear the echoes of every movement,and it’s exhilarating, knowing that he can stand fully without hitting hishead, can walk, can run.

He shouldn’t; he’s not ingreat shape, as Grey keeps firmly reminding him, but he could.

“How did you find me?” Heasks again. Tucker’s taken possession of his other hand, rubbing his thumb overWash’s knuckles. Wash squeezes back, nearly giddy at the human contact. They’rehere, they found him, it’s allalright now.

“Your armor,” Carolinasays. “We recovered it when we took a pirate base not far from where they’dstashed you. We traced Felix and Locus’s footsteps from there.”  

Wash nods. He startlesslightly when someone touches his head, but relaxes as he recognizes the largehands. Caboose has hugged him so often and so hard that Wash nearly cracked afew ribs, but Wash didn’t even care, he was just so glad to be out of that box.

Carolina pauses. “Wethought you were dead, when we saw that armor. But Epsilon decrypted a messagefrom Hargrove. Wash… he wanted you alive.”

“I know,” Wash says. He’sthought about that long and hard. “I don’t know why.”

“Well, it doesn’t fuckingmatter now,” Tucker says, too loudly, but his grip on Wash’s hand is like iron,and it’s comforting, grounding, and most of all real. “Felix and Locus are fucking dead, and Hargrove can fuckingsuck a dick.”

Wash can’t take itanymore, yanking his hand out of Tucker and Carolina’s grips and yanking offthe blindfold, because it’s been weeks since he’s seen his friends, and he needs this, he needs to see this.

“Wash!” Carolina andTucker yell altogether, but the light only stings, doesn’t burn like when they’dpulled him out of the box, and Wash feasts his eyes hungrily on the familiarinfirmary, on the worried Grey, rushing towards him, still in her armor, beforeturning around, first to his left, to see Tucker, his face framed with hisdreadlocks, his expression terrified, and then to Carolina, with Caboosehovering over her shoulder.

Caboose is grinning.Carolina looks thoughtful.

Real.This is real.