Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for reading. Also, thank you for sending me your feedback/review/comments. I really appreciate it. I wish you a great day.

Edited. Thanks, Murder Junkie :)

Echo
Chapter 6

He woke up to coldness. It blew over his cheeks, his arms and chest, fading away as it neared his waist. A contrast to the warm, uniform softness he was lying down on, his back sinking into the mattress underneath. He wanted to move but his body seemed un-ready. Unhurried. There was a pleasant throb in every nerve as currents flowed through him, coating the rawness he could feel in his wires. He shifted his legs on the mattress. Slowly, his system pulsed as he stretched, feeling both lazy and alert at the same time. He opened his eyes and saw the blanket around him. A whitish cloth with a blue patch on a corner. It... wasn't his. This mattress wasn't his. This ceiling wasn't his. This room... it wasn't his. Harkness inhaled a long breath.

So, last night did happen.

Of course it did. He didn't have a great capability to imagine a lot of things. And he certainly didn't imagine that. Or Butch...

Harkness turned his head.

Butch wasn't here.

The space next to him was empty but there were traces of warmth in the mattress. A faint indentation where a body could have lain next to him. Butch wasn't anywhere in the room.

He should probably go... find him and... talk.

Harkness lifted himself up, flipping the blanket off him as he did so. Right. He was still naked underneath the blanket. At the other high table, his pants were draped over one of the bar stools but he didn't see his shirt anywhere. The floor was rid of his clothes. He swung his legs off the mattress and the table. His bare feet touched the ground. Looking up, he spotted his boots standing by the now-closed door; no sign of Butch's boots. He walked to them. He didn't know what to think of the deep ache that was still pulling onto his every step, or the way the ache felt good. His system didn't seem exhausted, even though he felt like he had drained all his energy last night... last night. Forgoing his boots, he opened the door and peeked out into the corridor.

The 'Tunnel Snakes rule' message greeted him from the opposite wall. Other than that, the bow was quiet. Very quiet. To the right, the kitchen was dark. No one there. To the left, both doors that led to the stairwell were open and he could see through to the entrance. The front room was empty as well. No Butch anywhere. He might be in the lower deck where the storage was.

He re-entered Butch's room, feeling a little out of place here. When he took his pants off the stool, something dropped onto the floor. It looked to be a piece of paper, torn off a page in one of Butch's books. Harkness put his pants on and tied the drawstring into a tight knot before he picked up the fallen paper. He unfolded it to see Butch's familiar handwriting.

stay here tin man.
i'm in rivet city.

Bullshit.

Harkness grabbed a folded shirt from the table and pulled it over his head as he jammed his feet into his boots. He hoisted his rifle which had been on the table – how the hell was this here? - over his shoulder and rushed outside, remembering at the very last moment to slam the door shut. He stepped out into the bright sunny yellow of noon. 12:16, his system helpfully supplied. It would've been more helpful to wake him up 7 hours earlier like it usually did. He had missed the first shift. The soles of his boots slapped on the metal path as he returned to Rivet City.

Damn Tunnel Snake. What the hell was he thinking going to the city on his own? Didn't he realise -

"Decided to return?" Lana's voice shot through his thoughts. He jerked his head up to see her smile, the one she always gave him when she was relieved to see him. He slowed down to a halt in front of her.

"Didn't know you had bridge duty today," he replied. He caught the way she eyed him and recognised that look. This was a mixture of second-in-command Lana and friendly Lana. Just Lana who wasn't an android hunter. Just Lana who had been worried about him. He took note of the other two guards on duty with her, Riki and Mel, having a conversation as they leaned over the bridge railing. They nodded at him in greeting.

"I could use the fresh air," Lana said, tapping the stock of her rifle into a rhythm as she waited for him to answer.

"Sorry I'm late. I ...overslept." At his confession, she tilted her head. Her smile turning teasing.

"So I heard. Barber told me."

"You saw him?" Where did he go? And what the hell did she say to him to make him answer her questions? "Did you threaten him?"

"No, I didn't." Her eyes widened as though she was affronted. "But if I did, it'd be justified. He was very evasive."

"He would be evasive about the weather."

"Well, you'd know." She laughed and shook her head. Harkness glanced at the other guards. Their lack of attention towards them was good. It meant that they weren't the hunters hunting him. Their lack of attention towards anything other than each other wasn't so good, though. He wondered if he should tell them to stop slacking and keep their eyes on the bridge. He'd let Lana deal with that.

"Any strangers on the ship?" he asked.

"Some Steelers came over from the purifier to stock up this morning around nine," Lana answered, squinting as she recalled the information. "No one else."

"Right." He walked away and grasped the handle to the stairwell door. "Get some rest, Lana," he called out as he entered the city.

As soon as the door shut behind him, he felt trapped. Cornered. Dread weighed down on him. His system noted the door on the left that led to the middle deck; the stairs ascending to the upper deck; stairs descending to the Muddy Rudder. It listed every possible place any hunter could be hiding. Calculated all the paths to get around the ship, to get to him, to get to Butch. Fuck. He had to find him. He had to get to the Muddy Rudder. Because where else could the barber be?

Suddenly, the door to the middle deck swung open. Harkness faced it. And all the words he had planned died on his lips. He hadn't expected his system to seize him like this.

Butch's eyes were wide as they stared back at him, lips parted but not saying a word. He still had that bruise on his brow from his errand yesterday. But his jacket - he wasn't wearing his jacket. The parted lapels of the 101 jumpsuit revealed a white shirt underneath, framing his collarbones. Butch stood there speechless until he visibly shook himself and slammed the door behind him with a bang.

"What the fuck are you doin' here?" he demanded, walking fast to Harkness. "You want the Insti-tute to get you or somethin'?" he hissed. Butch made about to grab his arm and Harkness snapped.

"You shouldn't be here," he stated, tense all over again.

"What? They're huntin' you. What do they want with me?"

"Don't you think they won't recognise you?" Butch frowned in confusion.

"What're you talkin' about?"

"You're the one Zimmer hired." Butch paused. "You're the one who gave him the android component, the information no one else had. Don't you think they won't want to know more? Especially if they think I'm still in operation?" Butch looked over his shoulder as though those hunters were hovering behind. Then he turned back to Harkness and leaned towards him.

"I can handle them," he said gently, like he was trying to calm Harkness down.

"No, you can't," Harkness said because it was the truth. "You're going back to the bow."

"Fuck no," Butch protested, getting riled up.

"I'm taking you back to the bow."

"You ain't takin' me nowhere-"

The door to the midship deck swung open again. Bullshit. Harkness stopped short of pulling the rifle on Vera.

"Harkness," Vera called, sounding cheerful. She strolled to him with a huge smile on her face, Angela following close behind her, both oblivious to how on edge he was feeling right now. Vera couldn't be the hunter, could she? She barely knew how to shoot a gun. The same went for Angela; she wouldn't hurt a bloatfly unless it was dead. Moreover, for approximately four months now, she was distracted with the priest-in-training Diego. From the blush on her cheeks, he guessed that they had probably been talking about Diego. "I didn't realise you're having a day off," Vera said. What made her -

"I'm not having a day off," he told her. Her smile wavered.

"I see." Her eyes lowered and Harkness followed her gaze to his armour... only it wasn't his armour. It was Butch's shirt. Right.

Right.

"We're heading to Gary's. You're welcome to join us if you want," she invited them. "I'll see you later, Harkness. You too, Butch." The women walked past and exited through the door behind them. Harkness could hear their footsteps moving away. Then it was quiet again. Harkness unclenched his hands off his rifle. Crossed out two more people from the list of potential hunters. How the hell was he going to do this?

"Hmmm," Butch hummed next to him. Harkness saw that he was closer. Staring at him with his dark eyes like he could see past skin and skim his metal. He raked his eyes over Harkness and said in a low voice "You look good in my shirt." Heat prickled up his neck at the comment.

"Mine was gone."

"It's in the laundry room..." Laundry room? "...hanging next to my jacket."

"What happened to your jacket?"

"You," Butch answered simply, smirking, showing a sharp canine. "And me."

Right.

Of course.

Butch peered at him again, eyes roaming over his face, darting down to his lips, his shirt. "You okay?" he asked in a whisper and Harkness let out a long breath, letting himself take this quiet moment to calm down.

"I'm fine."

"Yeah? You were really... out of it, y'know, last night." Harkness didn't answer, feeling heat blooming across his chest. Feeling a deep sense of embarrassment, awkwardness and... something else. A mixture of things he didn't understand. "You remember? What happened."

"I don't forget," he replied as he met Butch's gaze. "Are you... alright?"

"Yeah." A corner of Butch's lips tipped up into an amused smirk. He did seem fine. Unbothered. Calm and relaxed. He supposed... Butch had done this before, then. Should he wonder about this? Had things changed between them? Or stayed the same? They stood staring at each other until the smirk on Butch's face faded and he turned serious. "I'm not goin' back to the bow. Pinky's not too happy with me right now," he said. "Besides, we gotta get to the bottom of this, right?"

'We' he said. And Harkness realised that he should have expected this. Should have seen this coming. He should've told Butch about this. Because Butch was a part of this no matter... No matter if Harkness shared this with him last night. Because Butch had been a part of this from the moment he took that job from Zimmer. The moment he took that job from Pinkerton. The moment he found out about Harkness and involved himself in this. Seeing the determination in him, the tension set across his shoulders, Harkness couldn't deny that he didn't know Butch would be this way. He knew that the Tunnel Snake would stay here and they could end up either arguing semantics or figuring this out.

"Alright," Harkness said. "But we do this by my rules."

"Oh, like you know better?"

"Yes, I do." Harkness patted his pockets in the hope of finding a cigarette even though he knew they were in his other pants. "First of all, the bridge tower is out of bounds. Private Jones has a good memory. If anything happens, he'd remember if you visited." Butch cocked an eyebrow as he listened. "If you find anyone or anything suspicious, don't annoy them, don't poke them, don't provoke them, don't piss them off. You tell me. Got it?" Butch scowled, looking about to protest again. Harkness straightened up. "My main concern is the safety of everyone on this ship, including yours."

"Is that it?" Butch asked. The truth was, Harkness had other concerns but he doubted Butch would agree to anything else. Plus, listing things like 'Don't steal anything' or 'Don't make a mess' would just give the Tunnel Snake ideas. Harkness nodded. Butch ran his fingers through his hair. "So what happens after?"

"We compare notes." Get to the bottom of this.

"At Gary's galley? Around..." Butch glanced down at his pip-boy. "...six-ish?" Then he looked up at Harkness expectantly. There was a hint of a smirk on his lips that was... It made him think about... Harkness adjusted his shirt, feeling constricted and exposed all of a sudden.

"...sure." Butch's smirk widened.

"See you, then." Butch brushed past him. "Chief Harkness," he added, his name sounding like coaxing in his mouth. Had Butch always called him like that? Butch climbed down the stairs without a backward glance at Harkness, the '101' on his back moving further and further away.

Alone again, Harkness stared up at the upper deck. He needed to gear up. He needed to change to his armour before confronting android hunters... and everything else.