Disclaimer: Red vs. Blue belongs to Rooster Teeth, not me. I make no profit from this, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 24
York woke slowly in a warm, comfortable bed. He didn't open his eyes yet, just let himself drift on the soft music and scent of incense …. Who had he gone home with? He couldn't quite remember. His dreams had been full of strangeness - Connie and Maine fighting, North standing over him, asking if he needed help, but then - in the way that dreams do - North's hair changed from blonde to black and - wait.
York's eyes snapped open. The UNSC medic from the alley blinked big brown eyes at him from a squishy-looking chair positioned next to the bed.
"You're awake!" The young man beamed at him.
"Where am I?" York asked.
"My apartment. I was able to stop your bleeding, but you need to rest."
"You - didn't take me to a hospital?" York asked, confused.
"I - um - that is…," the man stuttered and looked away.
"Thanks," York said quickly, not sure he wanted to open that obvious can of worms. "It's Frank, right?"
"Oh." The man looked genuinely surprised. "Yes. You're welcome. I'm happy to help."
"I need to leave now," York said, rising from the bed.
"Oh no, you don't. You can't move yet," Frank scolded. "You need time to recover the blood that you lost, and you might tear your stitches. I worked hard on those," he said, gently pushing York back into the bed.
"Here. You need calories." Frank handed him a plate of muffins and a glass of juice. York heard a ping in his mind, and Delta spoke.
"He is right, York. I believe you are safe for now." York sighed.
"All right." As York ate, he glanced around the room, taking in the dishes of colorful crystals and a window box of herbs. His eyes froze when they landed on his armor stacked in the corner. "Where did you get that?" York demanded.
"Hmm?" Frank said vaguely, then saw where York was looking. "Oh, your armor? It is yours, right? I hope you don't mind. I followed your copious blood trail after I stabilized you, trying to figure out what happened, and I found it in that horrible apartment. Were you staying there? It didn't look like an environment conducive to recovery, so I brought your things here." Delta pinged him again.
"Everything is intact York. I believe he genuinely wants to help."
"I was worried that an unsanitary recovery environment was what happened with your eye. That should have been easy to fix if you had quick enough access to medical - it was a grenade, right? I guess you were stuck on the battlefield for quite a while."
"What? No. I mean yeah, it was a grenade, and I had immediate care, but they told me this wasn't fixable," York explained.
"What?!" Frank looked aghast. "Even I could have fixed that! And I - umm - nevermind," Frank cleared his throat and looked at the floor.
"You what?" York asked, setting aside for now the idea that Freelancer might have given him subpar medical care on purpose. It was just one more thing to add to the list.
"Nothing, it's nothing," Frank said, trying to hide his embarrassment.
"No, seriously, it's okay. You can tell me." York flashed his most charming smile. Frank blushed. York wasn't an infiltrator for nothing.
"Umm…" Frank fiddled with his glasses. "I don't actually have a medical degree. I - kind of got kicked out of school before I finished."
"Why?" York asked, making sure there was no judgment in his tone.
"I wrote a paper - a research paper - about the potential effectiveness of alternative medicines. And basically got laughed out of university." He paused, looking as if he was holding himself back before he burst out, "I just think we can't rule anything out until it's been properly researched, and it hasn't!" Frank insisted, then slapped his hands over his mouth as if he had spoken out of turn.
"I can see you're really passionate about this," York said kindly while making a mental note to get the healing unit back on as soon as possible.
"I value the sanctity of the Scientific Method as much as any scientist! And their sheer un-curiosity on the subject - I'm sorry. Listen to me carrying on. You need to rest. How about some herbal tea?" Frank snatched York's empty plate and glass and hurried away. York could hear him clattering around in what must have been the kitchen a moment later.
"York," Delta said.
"How you doin' D?" York asked.
"I am fine York. We are safe. You should continue to rest."
"Yeah, Okay." York let himself relax and quickly drifted back into sleep. Frank came back in a few minutes with a carefully brewed cup of valerian root but stopped in the doorway when he saw that his patient was already fast asleep.
"Oh. Maybe I'll just, soothe my own nerves a bit then," he said and took a sip from the cup. He came fully into the room and sank into his favorite squishy chair with a sigh.
"This certainly isn't how I expected to get a handsome man into my bed."
xxx
Sister sighed, exhausted, as she punched in the code Grey had given her to the building. She had led the huge Freelancer on a hectic chase through the back alleys of the city before finally ducking into a transportation hub and buying a large yellow suitcase, stripping her armor off and stowing it inside. She then sat at a coffee shop next to the terminals for an hour, looking bored, before finally making her way back to Grey's building. Sister had enough practice at being unremarkable when she was still home at school, even before she'd been given pointers on it by professionals. A murderous Freelancer wasn't looking for a bored teenager. They were looking for a threat.
Sven was standing on the ramp to the albatross talking to Cody when Sister came in. Neither man looked happy. They looked up when they heard her footsteps. Cody's expression relaxed immediately when he saw her, while Sven just looked resigned.
"You're back!" Cody exclaimed with relief.
"I'm back," Sister sighed. She stopped a few meters from them, not sure if she was ready to finish the conversation she'd walked out on before.
"Kaikaina, I have made contact with Rick," Sven started.
"Don't you dare," Sister hissed with narrowed eyes, cutting him off, "tell me that you told him where we are."
"No. Better safe than sorry," Sven said. Sister relaxed slightly. "But I am going back to the Staff of Charon."
"WHAT?! Sven, that's suicide!" Sister shrieked.
"That's what I s-said," Cody agreed. "Like you s-said, S-Sven. Better s-safe than s-sorry. I'm not going back there to get team-killed. And Tomoko can't be moved yet anyway." Cody looked back and forth between Sister and Sven's scowling faces a couple of times. Then he realized what was about to happen. He backed away slowly, not wanting to be in the middle of the argument.
"Kaikaina … if I was in danger, would you try to help me?" Sven asked quietly.
"That's what I did, Sven," Sister insisted. "That's what I'm doing. Do all the times I've helped you mean nothing?!" Sven made a frustrated noise, and his scowl deepened.
"Of course they do. I am grateful, Kaikaina. But surely that means you understand - Rick has been my closest friend, not just my commander, for my entire life. I already lost Connie. If Nate is making his move, I am not leaving Rick in the viper's den. I must help him."
"Then tell him what happened, and tell him to get out!" Sister demanded.
"Nate is his brother … and we work for powerful people. Rick will need proof beyond doubt. All you have is a guess, Kaikaina, even if it is a reasonable guess."
"Ugh!" Sister threw her hands up and began pacing back and forth, unable to keep still with all the angry energy coursing through her. "You can't help anyone if you're dead! And you are more likely to get dead if you go in alone! It's simple math - even I can do it! Is it really worth risking your life, Sven?"
"Is your brother worth yours?" Sven asked quietly. Sister stopped pacing and spun to face him again. "You have been far less careful with yourself this past year than I am being now, considering I have trained for situations like this for most of my life." Sister clenched her fists, hating the knowing look in Sven's eyes.
"It's - It's not the same," She begged, feeling powerless as tears began running down her cheeks.
"It is. You know it is," he said. A few quick, powerful strides left Sven standing in front of Sister. He brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. "I know what I am doing Kaikaina."
"Sven, please don't," Sister begged, sobbing.
Sven hoisted a bag of gear that Sister had hardly noticed before, and paced quickly to the door. She reached out, but he was gone before she could think of a way to make him stay.
A long moment passed where Sister felt cut off, adrift, before all the tension she had been holding snapped like a rubberband. She screamed and kicked the yellow suitcase that still contained her armor as hard as she could. It toppled slowly, hitting the ground with a plangent blow that echoed in the otherwise silent warehouse. She clenched her fists and breathed deeply through her nose as she processed the pain in her foot - focusing on that had to be better than the turmoil in her heart.
"S-sister?" Sister heard Cody's quiet, apprehensive call, and something occurred to her.
"Cody, what about your boyfriend?!" she blurted, roughly rubbing the tear tracks off her face. Cody shrugged, obviously trying to look casual, and failing.
"My contract was up, s-so I was thinking of leaving anyway. I was gonna ask him to come with me, but …."
"If we can send a secure message," Sister began.
"Yeah," Cody said. "Maybe." They stared at each other for a long moment. Cody had just as much reason to leave as Sven, and yet he stayed. Why? Sister couldn't understand what the difference was, but it felt important.
"Thank you," she said in a cracked whisper. Cody just nodded.
"Sorry to interrupt," came Doctor Grey's all too casual voice. He didn't sound sorry at all. "But Miss Tomoko is awake."
xxx
When York next woke he felt much better. He could hear Frank puttering around in the kitchen again. He carefully extricated himself from the sheets and stood. He stretched, testing his body carefully, and felt the pull of stiff muscles and healing stitches. York peered out the bedroom door, spotted a bathroom, and headed for it eagerly.
He took care of his necessities and showered with practiced military speed. When he came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel he intended to get back into his armor immediately, but the smell of fresh coffee drew him to the kitchen. Frank was just putting a dollop of cream on top of his cup.
"Hi," York said, leaning against the doorframe casually. Frank's head snapped around, and cream slopped over the rim of the pitcher. Frank cleared his throat and blushed furiously. He stared. His - patient - was standing in his kitchen in nothing but a towel. How long had he been standing there?
"Coffee?" Frank asked weakly.
"Don't mind if I do," York replied with a wink and grin. He moved closer, taking the cream pitcher from Frank's hands gently. He fixed a second cup of coffee the same as the first, handed it to Frank, wiped down the counter, and sat down at the kitchen table. Frank followed.
"What's your name?" Frank finally asked.
"I can't tell you that," York said apologetically. "For your own safety."
"Oh … What can you tell me?" York took a long sip of the coffee before answering.
"I can tell you thank you," he said.
"Well, that's more than I usually get," Frank said with a shrug and a sigh.
"You rescue bleeding strangers in alleys often?" York asked.
"Well - no - that is - I mean I just -," Frank looked down and gripped his mug tighter in lieu of wringing his hands.
"Relax, I'm teasing you," York said, brushing his fingers across Frank's knuckles. "But seriously, thank you. If people don't thank you for saving their lives you need to find some better people Frank."
"Yeah…," Frank said shyly, finally looking up from his coffee. Brown eyes met grey for a long moment.
"I have to leave," York said flatly. Frank wilted a little.
"Oh. But - wait, no," he said as York drained the coffee mug and stood up. Frank followed York back to the bedroom but spun around to face the hall when the man dropped the towel and began putting on the armor undersuit.
Far too soon York was peering out the front door, checking that the coast was clear. Frank stood behind him, still gripping his coffee mug tightly. He never knew what to do with his hands.
"You should stay," Frank urged, finally working up his courage again.
"It's not safe," York replied shortly.
"I can help," Frank insisted.
"Not safe for you," York added.
"Oh."
York turned back to Frank and held out a hand. Frank peeled one hand from his coffee mug and shook it.
"Thank you. Now, this never happened, understand?"
"I - yeah, okay," Frank said, dejected.
"Take care, Frank," York said with a grin before putting on his helmet. Then he was out the door and gone. Frank leaned on the doorframe and watched him go. He let out a breathy sigh.
"Wow…."
xxx
Grif woke from his light doze when the interplanetary transport touched down at the base. He looked over at Sarge in the seat next to him. The man was still sleeping. Grif gave his armor a light slap.
"Up and at 'em, old man. We're here."
Sarge snorted and snapped awake.
"Let me at 'em!" he shouted. Grif sighed. "There are no enemies right now, Sarge. We're just checking in at our new base."
"Oh. Right. I knew that," Sarge hedged.
"Uh-huh," Grif sighed. He heaved himself up and watched out of the corner of his eye as Sarge did the same, making sure he didn't fall. The man was still having issues with balance occasionally, as well as hearing loss from damage to his inner ear. The ship's ramp lowered slowly and Grif let Sarge take the lead as they exited.
"Sargent Sarge and Private Grif, reporting for duty," Sarge said with exaggerated enthusiasm to the captain who was waiting for them. Grif tuned out their conversation immediately. They were given a quick tour of relevant locations on the base, and they dropped their things at their designated bunks before being escorted to a group of warehouses near the landing field.
"You'll be on guard duty for all of the buildings in the three hundred range. You operate in groups of three and rotate through pre-set paths and schedules you'll find in your email. I've just sent you the relevant information," he said, tapping his datapad a few times.
"Understood sir. We'll be the best guards you've ever seen," Sarge insisted.
"Uh-huh," the officer said, attention still on his screen reading some new notification. He was utterly uninterested in the newcomers before him.
"Who's our third?" Grif asked after a moment.
"Hmm?" The captain finally looked up.
"You said groups of three. Where's our third?"
"Oh. Right. He's around here … somewhere … Where did that kid go? Ah - there he is, harassing one of the computer scientists again. What's his name again?" the captain was mostly muttering to himself at this point. "Oh, that's right - SIMMONS! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"