The memory had been fresh and repeating in Albert's mind when he started walking up to Jet's room, fuming. He kept replaying it, every part of it, the way Jet had leaped to his defense, arms spread out in front of the flames, ready to die if need be, the feeling of a rock dropping in his stomach as soon as he saw that mess of red hair suddenly filling his vision. Only Ivan's quick thinking and strong psychic capability had saved them; they'd teleported back to base, where they'd been whisked away for medical treatment.
At the hundredth reminder of what happened, Albert felt another swell of rage as he balled his fists and knocked sharply on Jet's door. He counted to five in his head and called, "It's me, 002. Open up."
There was some kind of irritated, disgruntled noise from the other side of the door, then a loud creak as Jet complied. Albert immediately walked in, receiving another confused mumble from the red-haired teen.
"What do you want?" he grumbled, rubbing his eyes with a yawn. "It's…nine in the morning. Mind letting me—"
"What the hell were you thinking back there, 002?" Albert started off, anger evident in his voice. Jet's eyes widened at his tone, and he backed up ever-so-slightly.
"Uh…what're you talking about, 004?" he asked cautiously.
"I'm talking about that stupid thing you did in the battle a few days ago!" Albert clarified, his volume rising with every word. "You jumped in front of me! You could've died!"
"That?!" Jet spluttered. "Well, I was just doing what was right, at the time. How could I have known 001 would transport us awa—"
"But no matter what would've happened, we'd both die! That fire was powerful and out of control. You can't shield someone from that by just standing in front of them!"
"Are you saying you wanted me to help you some other way?" Jet snapped, but the words were oddly lacking in fire. If Albert had been more clear-minded, he would've noticed the way Jet was starting to back up against the wall, the expression in his eyes wary.
"I'm saying you shouldn't have tried to help me at all! You could have died out there for no reason, and I won't...I can't allow that."
Jet opened his mouth to say something, and Albert abruptly raised his flesh hand, palm facing Jet, in a "i'm still speaking" gesture.
At the sight of the sudden movement, Jet flinched back so harshly his back bumped against the wall, arms thrown up to defend himself.
Immediately, Albert lowered his hand, stunned. Jet stayed in that odd position for a second, arms so tense they were trembling.
"…002?" he asked slowly.
Jet dropped his arms and straightened out; his legs had been bent as if he was going to collapse.
"002," Albert repeated. "Did…did you think I was going to hit—"
"Whatever," Jet said harshly. "s'just…reflex. From when I was in the streets."
004 stayed silent, a frown growing on his face. Something about that sounded strange, but he wasn't about to pry.
But that look that had been in 002's eyes the instant before he'd covered his face—a look of panic and terror—where had he seen that look before, on Jet's face specifically?
After an awkward attempt to close the argument, Albert left the other cyborg's room, trying to recall a memory that was just ghosting around under his consciousness.
It had been a long time ago, before they'd been cryogenically frozen. When the Black Ghost had shoved him, Jet, Françoise, and Ivan into trials, lasting days at a time, full of enemies and malfunctioning parts. Ivan was sleeping, as he had been for a while; Françoise had fallen asleep a while ago, complaining of a headache from her far sight and hearing powers. Jet had offered to do guard duty once again.
"002, you've been volunteering for guard duty every night. If you keep this up, you won't be able to help us fight."
"Whatever! I can handle it! Just let me—"
"No. Tonight, I'll do it. Get some rest."
Jet seemed to be extremely uncomfortable at the idea of sleeping near the others, but he obliged, going to the far end of the cave and burying his face in his arm.
Albert rolled his eyes, then turned his focus to outside their shelter. A dull ache throbbed in his knee that held missiles, and various parts of his body stung and itched.
Well, he thought miserably, at least I'll be able to stay awake.
Apparently, his cuts and bruises couldn't even do that one thing for him. After the stress of the day, he felt his eyes weighing down, head bobbing towards his chest after only an hour or so. He was just about to fall asleep when a sharp cry met his ears. He jumped up like a cat, whirling around to the source of the noise. Nothing had invaded the cave, so what—?
The cry came again, but this time it sounded like a word; one he couldn't make out. Albert slowly walked towards the back of the cave, and saw the first cyborg, the hot-headed one who rushed so carelessly into battle, curled up with his fingers scratching the stone. Albert winced at the sound of nails on rock, trying to focus on his face.
The sleeping teen jerked, curling in on himself, while words slipped through his lips. Albert was confused at his inability to understand them until he recognized the fast-paced accent of Italian. For a split second, Albert considered turning on his translator to understand the slurred cries, then immediately banished the idea. How cruel would it be to just sit and listen in? The guy was obviously in distress.
This is probably why he never sleeps near us, Albert thought, and for the first time he pitied the aggressive, rash cyborg.
Snapping out of his reverie, he reached out and gripped Jet's shoulder, firmly shaking it.
"Wake up," he commanded.
Terrible idea. The teen let out a wail and shot up, lashing out at Albert's face. He looked around wildly for a second, eyes wide in panic, until they focused on his surroundings.
"…Oh, shit," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He blearily focused on the man before him, who was holding his nose in stunned surprise (and pain). "S-sorry," Jet gasped. "I didn't—"
"Don't mention it," Albert muttered. "I just startled you, I guess."
"Uh-huh," 002 said, averting his eyes. "So, uh, why'd you wake me up? What time is it?"
"You were shouting out," 004 replied matter-of-factly.
Jet flinched again, and gave a mumbled curse.
"…Whatever. I'm awake now, right? Might as well take over guard duty."
Albert blinked in surprise.
"What? No, I've only been up for an hour. You should get back to—"
"No," Jet insisted harshly. "I'm staying up."
Albert frowned, understanding his urgency, yet not wanting to further sleep-deprive the redhead.
"I'm not tired," he continued icily, walking towards the entrance to the cave. "Just get some rest. I'll be fine."
I'll be fine.
The memory ended with those words left echoing in Albert's mind. Every time he closed his eyes, trying to sleep, he just couldn't get 002 out of his head. He kept wondering what tormented Jet so much; he claimed it was from life on the streets, and Albert knew that life had affected him harshly. Against his will, he recalled 005's words from long ago.
"002 tried to tell those children of his past," he had rumbled, looking at his hands. "He had cried at his memories. His old life must have been a harsh one."
He and 005 had agreed to not share Jet's moment of weakness to anyone; Albert hadn't witnessed it himself, but the thought of 002 crying was outlandish enough that it stuck with him.
I'm gonna get some water. Milk, maybe. Anything to help me sleep.
With that, 004 slipped out of bed and into the hallway. As he passed by Jet's room, he couldn't help but hesitate.
I wonder if he's dreaming now, Albert thought, and turned to walk away. As if on cue, a harsh cry sounded off nearby. Before he knew it, Albert was slipping inside the room, almost involuntarily. Jet was curled up in a tight ball on his bed, the sheets tossed around his body. He whimpered, his entire body flinching as if he was getting hit. Words occasionally fell from his lips, and this time Albert dared to turn on his translator.
"…I'll try harder next time! Please don't hit me!"
Albert immediately switched off the device, sickened by the words and himself. He reached out to wake 002, then recalled what happened last time. He pulled out his hand and backed away.
I don't want to startle him, but I don't want him to be stuck in such an awful nightmwAUGH!
Albert yelped instinctively as his foot bumped into something. Stumbling backwards, about to fall, he reached out for something to grab. His gun hand clanked noisily on a desk before he managed to regain his footing.
At the noise, Jet shot upwards, his eyes glowing strangely from the shaft of light coming from his window. There was that godforsaken look in his eyes again, as he gave a cry at the sight of a hulking shadow in his room.
"Luci, luci," he croaked in a voice that hardly sounded like his own, as if said without his consent. He fumbled for the lamp and instantly the room was lit up.
For an awful, awkward second, they just stared at each other, Albert's face getting redder by the second, before finally the storm hit.
"…What the hell are you doing in my room?!" Jet snapped, his voice rough and furious.
Albert opened and closed his mouth, trying to think of a good explanation, then decided the truth would have to suffice.
"…I heard a noise," he said weakly.
"Why don't you mind your own business?" 002 shot back, sitting up straight. "Who just barges in on someone's room because they 'hear something?!' You know I have—!" he stopped abruptly, as if realizing what he was about to say.
"…Nightmares," Albert finished softly. He stepped closer and noticed the way Jet subconsciously pulled away by an inch.
"Get out of my room," Jet commanded, his voice starting to crumble. "I-I'm warning you—"
"Jet," Albert said, calling the cyborg by his true name. "Can…can you tell me what your nightmares are about?"
002 jerked away in surprise, eyes widening. He opened his mouth, and Albert waited for the refusal. What Jet said caught him off guard.
"Whatever…just don't tell anyone. But first...when I talk in my sleep, am I speaking in English or Italian?"
Albert blinked, confused, then cautiously answered "Italian."
"Italian…I thought so," he murmured, narrowing his eyes. "I…only spoke Italian to my parents."
To my parents. A sinking realization hit Albert as he put the pieces together. A sentence Jet had once said long ago flitted through his thoughts.
"I learned to trust nobody except myself! I didn't even trust my own parents!"
"My dad," Jet began darkly, "wanted me to be perfect. A perfect little son, who fulfilled all his needs with no flaws…and of course, I couldn't do that. School was so hard and confusing and I didn't—I would get so stressed knowing that if I brought home a bad grade, he'd—"
002, Albert thought, dismayed. He started to sense where this was going as Jet continued with his story.
"And my mom, she…didn't hurt me, but my dad was cruel to her as well, and she left…one day she just ran away and never looked back. I don't blame her for it, but…she just left me behind with him…and I can't help but—"
Without warning, tears started falling down Jet's cheeks. He pressed his hand to his face, taking in a shuddering breath. "God, he'd kick me until I would pass out and b-beg for him to stop, he'd tell me I was worthless…"
"Jet," Albert breathed, moving towards his bed. He didn't really know what he was going to say or do until Jet reached forward and clutched his arms, drawing 004's chest forward until it was pressed into Jet's face. Albert felt wetness seep through the fabric as he awkwardly hugged Jet back, keeping him close.
"I'm sorry," 002 whispered into the red shirt. "I-I can't even…talk about it without becoming such a mess, I-I'm really worthless, aren't I…"
"Jet," Albert said sharply. The redhead flinched in his arms at his tone. "Jet," Albert repeated, this time much softer. "I won't have you calling yourself that. You're not worthless…you've saved our lives countless times. Without you, none of us would be here…I love you, 002, and your past can't change that."
It wasn't until Jet had completely frozen in his arms that Albert realized what he'd just said. His face went red as a beet and his grip tightened as his mind raced to come up with a cover-up.
"You…love me?" 002 breathed, pulling away and looking into Albert's silver gaze.
"L-love," Albert stuttered. He thought about it; the way his mind buzzed and ached when he didn't know where Jet was, that anger and fear that had sprung up when Jet tried to sacrifice himself for him, that oddly familiar, giddy feeling of being near the guy…
"God, I am madly in love with you," 004 said in wonder. For a second, 002 just stared at him, and Albert felt his face flush even more. Oh, God, he must be so creeped out I need to get out of here—
And then Jet laughed, tears still falling from his wide cognac eyes.
"R-Really? You love me too?"
Too. That word rang around in Albert's head as everything started going fuzzy. Son of a…I'm gonna start crying too, now aren't I…
"I love you too, Albert," Jet breathed, leaning back in to hug him, draping his arms around 004's neck.
"C'mere," Albert said lightly, unable to keep the huge smile off his face. Jet leaned away, and his eyes glowed, from happiness or tears or both 004 didn't know as he leaned back in.
"Can…can I kiss you?" Jet asked softly, his hands fiddling with Albert's shirt.
"Go right ahead." Their faces so close he could feel Jet's warmth radiating off of him.
It was gentle, sweet, and warm like honey; they didn't go too far or anything, keeping it soft and careful, then pulled away.
Jet breathed deeply, eyes still closed.
"…Holy shit, can we do that again?" he whispered. Albert laughed, bringing their faces close again.
"Good idea, Jet," he said softly, eyelids slipping shut.
"I like it when you call me 002," Jet murmured when their faces were an inch apart.
"Really?" Albert was caught off guard once more. He liked being called Albert, sometimes; it made him feel more human, more than just a number.
"It's the name," he said, voice dropping so low only 004 could hear, "my only family has called me."
"…Okay, 002."
"Thank you."
They kissed again, this time taking more liberties; taking a step, then taking another, until they pulled away for a split second to catch their breath; they met eyes, grinned, and then went in again, this time giving it their all, until finally they were light-headed. Jet pushed his head into Albert's shoulder, humming softly.
"Thank you, Albert," 002 said, his words muffled by the fabric. "You really helped."
"I bet," 004 teased, smoothing down Jet's hair. It was soft, like a blanket. "I know it'll take more than a kiss to solve anything. But I'll help you, okay?"
"Mm."
They were silent for a while, standing in their odd little position, until Jet spoke.
"…Albert?"
"Yeah?"
"Can…can you stay with me tonight?" his voice was small, nervous.
"Of course," Albert replied without hesitation. "Move over."
Jet smiled, separating himself from the other cyborg before scooting to the edge of the bed. Albert hopped in, and returned Jet's grin before reaching for the lamp.
"…What'll everyone say when we walk out of the same room?"
Albert made an "I-dunno" noise as he pressed against Jet, curling his arms around the other warm body in the bed.
Françoise smiled softly as the noise died down in the room next to hers.
"Those two scamps," she murmured, taking her hand away from her ear. "It was about damn time."