Written for the kinkmeme prompt: Chuck doesn't want to be Herc's co-pilot. Chuck trains for years. He gives his whole life to the PPDC. And, when he finally gets his chance, it's as a co-pilot to his father. Give me fic where Chuck angsts over this, where he's torn up and reluctant to take the job and resents the fact that all roads lead back to Herc. Besides, no teenager wants to reveal all their secrets to their dad, right?
I am still working around a writer's block here so have some angsty!Chuck because nothing puts me in a better mood than seeing Chuckles here feel sad.
XXX
all roads lead to this
XXX
He imagines he can run.
Run and never come back. (Run and never look back.) Run until he can't remember that he is his father's son, and then maybe die in exchange for his mother, who has every right to love the man this way.
Chuck hates that he is his father's son, but never more so when he is told who his co-pilot is. Kodiak Island is a desolate place, and that suits him just fine. But seeing his father here, again, reminds him just how much he resents this life.
The two of them are standing across from each other, the Kwoon empty, the two of them stripped down to their tanks. Chuck keeps his hanbō tucked close to his body, controlled in ways he has never allowed himself to be when he steadies his stance for a fight.
"I don't give a fuck what they think." He tells him. "We're not drift compatible."
But it's an argument for arguing sake. That much they both know when he knocks his father's feet from beneath him and has the man landing in the middle of the Kwoon's mat in quick succession, Herc's hanbō extended just so to the hollow of his throat. And endurance is the only thing that keeps them still, Chuck swallows and he can feel the wood against his skin.
Herc speaks.
"We are what we are, son."
Chuck barely bites back what comes to mind next, a vicious, silent I am not your son, dad, I can't be that takes his all to swallow back down. Chuck steps back, stumbling and shoves his feet into his boots before stomping out of the Kwoon in a whirlwind of devastation.
He has worked so hard all his life, got so far, just for everything to come back to this, to him. It isn't supposed to be like this. But there are things that Chuck understands and there are things he can never wrap his head around, this is neither of that. This is a fact of life because Chuck's life always comes down to a man that goes by the name, Hercules Hansen.
(What he doesn't know is that it is very much the same for Herc.
What Chuck doesn't see is that Herc falls back, allows himself a moment to smile through the pain of being thrown so simply on to the mat in one smooth motion. Like he knows him before he's ever even been inside his head. That's compatibility for you.
What Chuck can't imagine is that Herc's entire world is just that. A son that hasn't called him dad in years.)
He doesn't want him in his head. He can't have him there, beneath his skin, digging up all the dark, and lonely nights on this wasteland excuse of an island where all he has is yearning, and a bone deep kind of self-loathing that only ever seeps further in. There isn't a way that he can explain that he can't do this (not without a soft I love you like this when he reaches out and knows that he can't let go).
But the world is coming to an end, he can't not do this.
Chuck Hansen steps into the Conn-Pod the next day, drive suit heavy, just as his father turns to glance back at him with a soft grimace that may have been the man looking proud. Like he's always imagined, Chuck is not an unwilling sacrifice if it means they can win. They step into the rigs, one foot before the other, and lets the voices from LOCCENT guide them into their first drift.
And this is just another thing he is willing to give to save a world that is bigger than his own.
XXX Kuro
If this made you feel too sad, just imagine that Herc totally returns his feelings, eventually, slowly, and it's glorious when he does.