I had a singular review and that makes me so happy 3 I was thinking this was going to be short, like maybe 5 chapters, but now I'm thinking of continuing it after chapter 5. You all tell me what you think when we get there! Remember to review!
Lucid
Tucker was aware of dreaming this time. He was in a dank building held up by hundreds of separate supports. Somehow, there was lighting there, but only enough to see a couple hundred feet around him at best. Underfoot was straw, and the low ceiling scraped his dreads.
He didn't hear the soft footsteps, but rather sensed them. He turned to face the source of the reverberations, only to find himself looking into those steel eyes he'd thought of against his will all day.
"Wash," he asked. "What are you doing here?"
Wash looked him up and down before taking a step toward him. "You want me here Tucker."
Tucker took a step backwards, but Wash took a stride to match. "I'm not gay," he affirmed shakily.
His leader shook his head, rolling his eyes and tsking simultaneously. "It's not about gay or straight, Tucker. You want me. Admit it."
By now, Washington had backed him into a corner, literally and figuratively. Tucker wordlessly shook his head while Wash took another step. His hand came up to touch Tucker's chest, feeling his pounding heart underneath. Wash was at least a head shorter than him, but Tucker felt so small under his cool gaze.
And Tucker couldn't resist it anymore. He wanted this. "Oh Wash," he purred, falling into that touch again. He took a step forward, pulling the solid man into him. Their lips met.
"Tucker!" a voice called from far away. Tucker rolled over in his bunk, waving away the hands that shook him.
"Five more minutes," he pleaded sleepily.
There was silence for a short period, and then, "Tucker it's me."
"Ugh," he groaned. "What?" He rolled over, opening his eyes and finding himself face to face with none other than Washington himself. Surprise pulled Tucker away from his leader and against the wall on the end of his bunk. Somehow, finding himself so close to the reluctant object of his affection so soon after his dream made his heart pound more. Oh no! What if he talked in his sleep again? "Washington!" he spat angrily. "What the fuck, bro!"
Even in his panic, he managed to look his leader up and down in order to better appreciate the sight. For once, Wash wasn't in full body armor. He was wearing a loose gray shirt with yellow stripes on the sleeve, much similar to his Freelancer outfit. His pants were mesh, blue with the same gold stripe down the sides. It was like a mixture of his Freelancer and his Blue days.
It was still dark, which either meant Wash was here to wake him up on time (way to early for Tucker), or it was still sleep time. Tucker was inclined towards the latter, considering Wash wasn't in full body armor, or wasn't yelling himself hoarse at Tucker's lazy attitude.
So what was he doing here?
Tucker kept his back pressed against the wall behind his bed, but narrowed his eyes to get a better look at his superior. Wash really was beautiful, in his own way. He was super pale, like it was his superpower or something. Probably because the workaholic fuck never took his damn armor off. Seriously, he was as white as Tucker was black. In contrast to his paleness, his freckles were dark pinpricks on a worn face. Still, his most stunning features were definitely his eyes. Tucker had never seen eyes that captivating before.
Stupid fucktard, he thought to himself. Stop being homo for a second, would you?
Looking closely, Wash did not look entirely healthy. He didn't look sick or anything but rather…hunted? The bags under his eyes looked like patches of stained make-up. The lines on his face were rather pronounced (Tucker hadn't gotten the impression that Wash was that old.) There was a scar running down his one cheek that looked almost taut, as if the muscles there had strained far too long. Probably from frowning the way Wash did when he concentrated too much.
Perhaps a moon's worth of sleep and several bottles of alcohol would be suiting for Wash's, eh, condition.
"Sorry for the scare," Wash said, sitting (uninvited) on the end of Tucker's bunk.
Tucker snorted. "You don't scare me."
Wash made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. He looked exhausted. "You sounded scared to me. Caboose was worried you were having another nightmare."
Immediately his dread returned. "I was talking again, wasn't I?"
Wash nodded confirmation. "Yup." The end of that one word popped as he pressed his lips together and pushed the air out.
Not sure he wanted to know the answer, but knowing he had to ask anyway, Tucker murmured, "What was I saying?"
The smirk on Washington's face said all Tucker needed to know. "Geez Tucker, if I had known I was the star of your nightmares, I would have toned down the exercises."
"Wash," he said quietly, feeling the need to explain. He could hardly hear his voice over the pounding of his own heart. "It's not what you think."
Wash raised one eyebrow. "I don't know Tucker. You sounded pretty upset to me."
Tucker shook his head, his main of hair slapping against the crown of his head. "No I mean, it's just a dream, that's all. You know I can't control them."
One of those thick gray soldiers raised in a shrug. "It's not your fault, Tucker. We all have bad dreams."
"Right," Tucker muttered, looking at his kneecaps. "Fucking nightmare."
Wash tilted his head, looking at Tucker without blinking. "You know, you can always talk to me if you need to. I'm here for you."
He snorted derisively. "Yeah Wash, that is not gonna happen."
They sat in tense silence for a long while again. While Tucker was greatly appreciative that Washington didn't push the subject, he was beyond embarrassed that he'd 'out'ed himself directly to the man in his sleep. Like couldn't Wash just leave him be for one night? Because call it what they want, both men knew exactly what Tucker had been dreaming about.
"I hope Caboose didn't wake you," Tucker said slowly, just to ease the tension.
"What?" his superior said, shaking himself from his own thoughts. "Oh, no. I already happened to be awake, so it wasn't a big deal."
Tucker looked at him again, concern for his commanding officer overlaying his strict humiliation. "You should get some sleep, dude. You look like you could use it."
Wash laughed without humor. "I probably could," he admitted. "But I, I almost never sleep anymore."
"Why?" Tucker asked him, then added sarcastically. "Also having bad dreams?"
"Yes, I am, actually," Wash answered seriously. "It's been getting harder and harder to fall asleep lately."
"Oh." Tucker frowned, leaning out of his corner minutely. He was deadly curious to know what it was that kept Wash up at night. Was it a similar situation to what Tucker was currently enduring?
"Did I ever tell you I have a sister?" Wash asked suddenly, staring straight ahead without seeing.
Tucker shook his head. "No, you never told me that."
Wash smiled. "Yeah, she was a total badass. Like, she could really fuck you up if she wanted to. But that's Kansas for you."
Against his will, Tucker's interest was piqued. "Wait, she was a Freelancer?"
"Oh yeah," Wash said as if it was the most obvious thing. "Did I just say what a badass she was? She was involved from the very beginning. I think she was even recruited before me. She was drafted into some top secret unit. I didn't even know she was in the program until later on."
Tucker's brow furrowed. "Whatever happened to her?" he wondered aloud.
"No idea," Wash said. "From what I've been able to find out, she vanished into thin air after my…incident, with Epsilon. When they were removing the A.I. from the other agents. To this day, I have no idea why she left, where she is, or if she's still alive."
This revelation was quite personal. Tucker stared at his commander, curiosity filling him. Why was Washington telling him this? "Well, why don't you go looking for her?"
Wash smirked. "I'd never find her."
"Why?" a thought suddenly pierced him. "Do you think she's dead?"
"No," Wash said easily. "I think she doesn't want to be found. And Kansas always gets what she wants."
"Sounds spoiled," Tucker chuckled.
"Oh she was." Wash's pale face formed a pseudo smile that Tucker had never really seen before. It was kinda nice, actually. "From a young age she learned how to manipulate people into giving her everything. Not that we had much to give…" he trailed off, seemingly lost in memories.
Tucker felt real sympathy for the man. After all, he too had family he was worried about. Not that Junior couldn't care for himself, but still. "Sounds like you really cared about her. I'm sorry dude."
Wash looked at him, his face forming one of surprise. "It's all right. I'm sure she's fine. I just…" he tapered away again, staring blankly ahead for no more than one second. "I'll let you go back to sleep," he said abruptly, standing up. "You're going to need it for tomorrow." Wash through him one last smirk before leaving.
Tucker watched him go. That had been quite a conversation. He splayed out across his bunk, processing it. Why had Washington told him all of that stuff about his sister? What point had he been trying to make?
He wondered what Kansas looked like. Was she as pale as Washington? Did she have those same eyes? He suddenly wanted to meet her face to face, to see her and maybe get to know her. He formed a mental picture of her in his brain: short, pale with freckles, blonde hair and those gorgeous eyes. Like Wash, but a girl. Somehow, it didn't feel right. He couldn't find any attraction to the image. Maybe knowing she was MIA, or that she had family desperately missing her, ruined the whole sexual part of it. (Yet that didn't stop him from feeling that way about Washington).
Groaning to himself, he banged his head against his bunk-frame, pulling his pillow down over his eyes. Whatever the fuck was wrong with him needed to be done with immediately. Maybe he could follow Wash's plan and never sleep. That'd certainly stop the dreams.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when he was already drifting.
