A/N: I'm not dead!

Keep in mind, this is when the Meta first attacks Wash. Delta likely didn't know he survived until they next encountered South.

I feel something for the Dakotas, being a twin myself. I think sometimes we just look at North when we blame South, but trust me, she can't be okay after that. I feel both these characters are pretty broken right now.

A much better version of the cover image can be found on my tumblr, birdinatree, or on my DA, demented-doodler.


Delta can't help but feel offended when he's paired with South so soon after York's death.

She had done enough to insult AIs, and now he was learning that she had let not only Wash die, but her own brother as well. Maybe he could respect her desires, but not her methods.

So he fought. He wanted to make sure she understood what she had done. He shared his memories; of short conversations in the Pelican with 479-er, of teasing a green Wash, of "drinking" with York on the run… He replayed York's final moments a few times, but he could hardly stand it. He had to wait for her little, unprotected moments, so there wasn't always an opportunity.

And then one day, she entered a small, abandoned bunker. Immediately when her thoughts turned to finding supplies, a strange memory flashed before her eyes. Well, one eye, the other was blank as she saw herself – no, York running up to keep pace with North and Wash, clapping the latter on the back with a thud she could feel

They're all dead, Agent South.

She slid down the wall, ripping off her helmet. Her breathing was heavy, and she choked back sobs but let the tears flow. She leaned her head back against the wall, gritting her teeth as he made her remember, and she forced herself out of it.

She let Delta in.

The AI was surprised at the feelings he had access too. Yes, he had seen her memories, but she had remained so guarded…

A chasm of emptiness opened up in him as he naturally tried to understand.

North… North I shouldn't have… What do I do now? I can't do anything...

There were her frantic thoughts every time she remembered that he was gone, that she would never see him again. He saw how she tore herself apart trying to figure out just where to go next. Sometimes she was almost ready just to go turn herself in.

It was all about somehow surviving and maybe even living, finding a way after what she'd done. There was no one to rely on anymore, no one she should take care of or let take care of her.

She had never really had time to grieve, just to understand what she had done.

And there would never be time for her to move on.

Delta closed himself off from her again, and let her be alone.