Telephone
a/n: Doug sees a ghost on the way back from drinking with Frye. Sure, he could ignore it, but Doug has learned not to do that.
Swears, alcohol, dark places, courage. Misdirection. Spoilers to Blood Lobster (if you don't know the thing, pleeeeeaaaase finish it before reading, I love that horrible, amazing quest).
All the good stuff belongs to Monolith Soft. Case and Lila are mine, and I am paying for PTSD counseling and care for ALL OF NLA.
Doug hadn't planned on getting that drunk. Celebrating Ray and Janine's engagement would mean fun and a few drinks, and maybe a slight buzz on the way home. But stumbling and seeing things? That was Frye's fault.
Naw, that was Nguyn's fault. Rather, his choice of date.
No. It was his own fault.
Ray and Janine's news was news to almost no one, but that didn't make it any less good. They'd invited their team and some friends and eventually what seemed like half of the Harrier division over to the Italian-Cuban restaurant at the end of the Commercial District. All very casual and accidental, but when Ray stood up to make an announcement, every face was grinning before he'd said the first word. Janine's face was bright red and grinning the widest. It felt good, to celebrate something that didn't involve ammunition or explosions.
He should have had a few beers and been done. But Nguyn had arrived with a gorgeous date, tall and leggy and with hair the color of deepest space. She'd taken one look at Doug and turned her back on him. Still not forgiven, it seemed. Nguyn had shot his team leader a hard look. Doug had shrugged and kept drinking. He'd bought a round, then another. In between, he'd had a few shots with other friends, one even with Nguyn. He'd muttered quickly, "Old business, don't pay it no mind." No point warning Nguyn about his date, not least because maybe there was nothing to warn him about.
All in all, he'd behaved himself, although he was wobbling a little when he left the restaurant. The fresh air hadn't quite smoothed the edge he still felt. So it seemed like a good idea to go over to check on Frye when Doug spotted him on the far corner. Turned out, Frye had not just worn out his welcome at the Repenta Diner. He'd managed to get banned from the parking lot as well. Not officially, no, even the respected manager of the diner couldn't enforce that, but Frye had enough delicacy to know when to take a break. So now he was doing his drinking at a new corner, at least temporarily. "I'll give her a break until Monday," he explained, passing a bottle to Doug. "She'll be ready to put up with me by then. You know she loves me, her and her liquor."
When you started drinking with Frye, you knew what you'd get. Drinking with Interceptors in general, and Frye in particular, was always the same. Doug's numbed brain managed to come up with "relentless." They'd shot the breeze, comparing missions and kills. They'd complained about their teams, and Doug had told Frye the news about Janine and Ray. Which had given their drinking some added enthusiasm. To the couple! To the future of NLA! To love and the poor saps that still felt it! He'd known exactly where they were headed before he said his first hello, and Frye had no blame in it at all.
Now he was stumbling over curbs that weren't there. Luckily he only had to get a few blocks to his off-barracks apartment. He wasn't sure about the stairs, but that would either be okay or it wouldn't, and in any case that was a problem for later. The real problem was seeing things that weren't there. Curbs. Rain. Wait, the rain was real, his hands were wet, so was the pavement. People.
He'd peered blurrily around, as the pavement swayed a little, and saw somebody over by the fountain. That little creep, he wasn't there anymore, so Doug certainly didn't see him now. Best idea was to listen to logic and go straight home. Yeah, so, clearly, best ideas weren't part of this night. He looked a little harder, through the frankly heavy rain, and logic had to admit that even drunk eyes probably were seeing something real. A BLADE, dark regulation body armour, standing in front of the fountain, facing the Residential Area, keeping a watch on the street. Short light hair, pale skin, slim.
Doug shuddered. Who the hell had that much bad taste to stand there like that? Even if the Mediators needed somebody on that corner, they should have had the sense to plant them somewhere else. The other side of the street, for crying out loud. Or send somebody built different, so you didn't scare innocent wandering strangers. Drunken staggering strangers.
Doug wove a little closer, to see who was that far gone from tact. He was already across the street before he recognized the BLADE. He rolled his eyes and turned his head for a second. "Oh crap." He knew that figure, and she wasn't a BLADE. Not anymore.
"Hey, Case, what's up?" He tried not to slur the words.
The coppery head turned toward him. Her green eyes were blank, even for a drifter renowned for being disconnected. So disconnected that she'd recently tried to kill three former teammates in full daylight in the center of Division Drive. All because they'd been talking to another young woman. That had been the incident that had finally gotten her bounced from BLADE. If Doug had been there, he would have helped, and those guys would have been dead instead of hospitalized.
"It's Doug. Remember me?" He wasn't sure she would. They'd never teamed together. She hadn't worked with Harriers much, except the one miserable squad in question.
"Oh. Barret. You talked to me, once, after…" She turned away and looked back across the moat.
He followed her gaze for a moment. "Yeah. How's it going?" He'd checked on her once, yeah, after she'd come back the first time from fighting that dweeb nerd. She'd looked sad but okay, and she'd been put with a good team. Reclaimers. All were nice and two were actually smart. Steady work, and nothing regularly ugly. He hadn't checked on her after the second time. No need to. They all knew she'd gone back for the nerd, brought him back like he was still part of NLA. Hell, everyone had watched as she'd followed the stretcher with that traitor into the Mim Center … Doug stopped thinking about it.
"I couldn't sleep. Thought I'd come outside for a bit."
"You're wearing your gear. You back in BLADE?" He knew she wasn't, not yet. There had been some recent discussion among the division leaders, and according to Alexa, the Outfitters were getting heavy pressure to take her back in. She had skills with alien tech that were going to waste now that she was working as a civilian, refueling skells for real BLADEs to take out on runs.
"Oh. This." She looked at her gloved hands. "I grabbed the first thing in my locker, and it was my old vest. Then I kept going. I should get rid of it."
"Well, people are going to get the wrong idea, seeing you here like this. Hell, for a moment, I thought you were … uh …."
"I hadn't thought of that. Sorry."
"Anyway. You should get back inside. Me too. It's really coming down, huh?" He tried to give her a normal grin as the deck tilted suddenly.
"Yeah." She looked at him curiously.
"Ha ha, been celebrating some good news. Two of my team got engaged. I'm probably gonna regret it a little tomorrow, but it was fun today."
She nodded, seriously. "I'm going to head back to the Mim Center now. Good night, Barret."
"Take care, Case. Don't fall into the gel or anything."
"Same to you."
To his surprise, the stairs hadn't been a problem. He'd grabbed a towel, mopped off the worst of the rain, and crashed face first into his couch. No point going to bed. He knew what was coming.
It wasn't two hours later and he was sitting bolt upright, eyes wide, panting. That fucking dream, and he'd asked for it, like he always did when he got that drunk. Lao, and a gun, and one shot fired. Same dream in three variations. Short, medium, long. Case was in it as the extra, didn't really surprise him. His brain had started to grab whoever he saw last and put them in that slot. Didn't affect the pattern. First the gun was aimed at the extra person: short version. Medium version and Lao'd swing it towards Doug. But this time Lao had taken himself out, not the most common ending, but Doug'd seen it plenty. He'd get over it in a few minutes. Then he realized that something was different. For once, the third person hadn't been silent. Case had said that thing, that thing he'd thought himself a few weeks before, when the long ending had happened. That thing that had gotten him to finally talk to someone, seriously, about the dream and all the other crap.
"Too bad he only had one bullet." Her face had that same blank look as when he'd last seen her, but her voice had been disappointed.
Doug was on his feet, breathing harder than ever. Not good, not good. It should have been obvious, but he'd been drunk off his ass and even sober he wasn't great at cues. He fumbled for his comm device, and was pacing even as he searched for Case's number.
She didn't pick up.
Okay, okay, no need to jump to conclusions. He left a message, "Hey, it's Doug, remember, we met in front of the … uh, I was wondering if you got home okay. Call me. Please." He punched out a text on top of that. She'd get the message and call. She was sleeping. She was fine.
He was already dialing Gwin. The Interceptor picked up after the third buzz. God, he looked dumb when he was sleepy. "Doug, what the hell…?"
"I can't reach Case. I'm worried."
"What?"
"I saw her out in the rain, and I think we should look for her and…"
"Are you drunk? What do you need her for?"
"I had a dream and …" Well, that was a stupid way to put it. "Ugh, I'm worried.
"Because of a dream? You're waking me up because of a dream?!"
"She was in her gear. For real, not the dream. It wasn't okay."
Gwin's face darkened momentarily. Then he shook his head. "Look, I'm sure she's out of her gear and sleeping. Like I wish I was."
"You've worked with her. You gonna help me look?"
"No. Go to bed, Doug." The line went dead.
Doug stared at his device. The next number he punched with more deliberation. Case's current boss, Lila Brown, manager of the refueling station and sometimes girlfriend of a certain large engineer.
"Brown. What you need?" A sour and suspicious face peered at him.
"Um, Lila, this is Doug Barret."
The woman in the display narrowed her eyes. "I see. What do you need? Something wrong in the hangar?" There was a complaining rumble in the background. Doug uncharacteristically cringed.
"No. Uh, I saw Case a while back. Something was wrong." No point mentioning the dream again.
Her attention was instant. "What happened?"
"She was standing by the fountain. You know, the one in the Commercial Section."
"Yeah, she goes there sometimes," Lila answered slowly.
"She was in her gear. Full gear."
"Ah. Gotcha. Give me three minutes."
Doug laid his comm device flat on the kitchen island and pulled out a mug. It was hard to make coffee while keeping one eye on the small rectangle at all times. It wasn't two minutes when it buzzed. He had it open before the chime ended.
"Yes?"
"She's fine. Someone's with her, been with her for hours. She's okay."
"Are you sure?"
Lila twisted her mouth with remembered bitterness. "I asked Eleonora. Directly. I got no pride when it comes to my crew. She's fine."
Doug's eyes closed in relief. Lila kept on talking. "I'm not giving you the details, so don't ask. But I'll make sure there's someone on her in the morning, until she gets into my station, and then we'll watch her. We did this kind of thing on the Whale, for more people than I'd like to say. Myself included." The speculation in her glance was almost tender. "You want me to call someone for you?"
Doug stared back, then shook his head. "I'm heading for the hangar, soon as I clean up. Might as well start my day."
"Well, have fun with that. I got three more hours of sleep left." Another rumble in the background seemed to argue about the accuracy of that statement. Lila give a sudden bright smile and Doug fought a blush as they said goodbye.
Coffee, shower, anti-hangover pill (because mims had their advantages and Doug had no problem with that). Hangar, paperwork, team, mission. He was headed to Oblivia before he saw Case, but he'd wouldn't forget to ask Lila later. Or ask Case directly. And he'd talk to Nara again, about the dream and Case and stuff, because he didn't need someone else making these kind of calls about him.
xc2xc2xc2xc2xc2xc2
"Hey, Case! Just so you know, Doug was worried about you." Gwin caught up to Case in the corridor.
"Huh?" Her face was still tired.
Gwin rubbed his hair into even wilder floppiness. "Woke me up last night, asking where you were."
"You could have told him."
"He was worried. About the gear."
"Oh. The gear." She passed a hand weakly over her outfit. "This really was an accident."
"He thought maybe, you know, maybe you were …"
She interrupted him. "And I don't have any weapons. They took those away. Not even a knife."
"Still…"
"Gwin, I have a plan. If it gets too bad, I'm giving up and letting the Mim Center deal with it. Don't worry."
"That's supposed to make me feel less worried?"
Case managed a smile. "If you see me in NLA, I'm okay."
Gwin didn't look any happier. "Can I buy you breakfast first?" he asked.
Case nodded. "Any day of the week."
"Today?"
Her smile became unforced and perhaps a touch evil. "Did you get paid recently?"
"No." Gwin felt a grin growing on his own face.
"No problem. We can see how much damage we can do to your credit rating. Just let me go change into work clothes."
a/n: Shameless plug time! Doug's dream: Dances with Saltat/3/Threesome. Janice and Ray: Modern Bromance/3/Tyrants and Kisses. Nguyn's date: Modern Bromance/4/Things were confused in his bed. The horrible Harrier team: Noctilum Picnic/1/Picnic Punch, The Great Skell Robbery, and probably Rosalee and Lucky/3/Talent Night at the Repenta.
This is why I can't work on Duna and Wolf. I'm too worried about the mental health of NLA, and can you blame me?
May I add: playable Nopon!
Squeeeeeeeeee!
I swear I will main that character.