I climbed up onto the ship, anxious to depart. The sooner we left, the sooner the plane ride would be over. The last thing I wanted to do was to be trapped in one small cockpit with that dickhead for hours on end. The very thought of it made me cringe.

As the ship left headquarters, I took as much time as I possibly could in the store room, checking to make sure we had packed all the weapons on the supply list. We had. Even after I had triple checked the list.

We soon left Earth's atmosphere, and my heart sank. I knew Wash would need my help in the cockpit now until we reached a safe location to put the ship on autopilot. It could take hours until Command gave us the go-ahead to stop flying manually. Son of a bitch.

I entered the cockpit, and Wash was busy speaking into his headset. I sat down at the empty seat beside him, placing my headphones on as well and beginning to coordinate my side of the flight controls.

"…Exited Earth's atmosphere," Wash was saying to Command. "Steering controls all functional. Engine capacity at 100%. Oxygen levels stable, and all supplies…?" He looked over at me questioningly.

"All present and accounted for," I finished.

"Affirmative, Agents Washington and Eleven," Command responded. "Keep on your course, and we will contact you when it is safe to activate autopilot. Over and out."

The line went dead, and Wash and I removed our headsets for the time being. He stretched and leaned back into his seat, yawning widely. "It's about time you got back to the cockpit. Took you forever to count all our shit."

"Yeah, well, I just wanted to make sure we had everything. We really don't have any idea what we're getting into."

"I won't deny that," he said. He relaxed his muscles from the stretch. "Damn. I am not looking forward to this mission."

I glanced at him briefly before turning back to my controls. "I… I know. You and AIs… don't work well together."

"Tell me about it," he growled.

"No offense, but… I really can't believe they chose you for this."

Wash glared at me. I had struck a nerve. "You know why they did?" he spat angrily. "Because they think I'm a damn expert. Apparently, I'm automatically the go-to guy for AI problems because of my own past issues! They think I know everything there is to know about AIs just because—because—"

His voice faltered.

"And you!" he continued, glancing at me sharply. "You're the last person I should be paired up with! Don't they get it? When you're around, bad shit happens to me!"

"Oh, so everything is my fault now?" I asked. "That had nothing to do with me. It was just… just bad luck!"

"Well, for this mission, a bad luck charm isn't a good thing to have. Think about it. The UNSC formal… Hale almost died because of me. And you were there. And… before that… well, you know…"

Wash's voice trailed off, and there there was a brief silence in which we steered the plane moodily.

"The sooner we get to Blood Gulch, the better," I muttered.

"What," Wash said, irritated again. "Can't stand the presence of your half-crazed ex?"

"Excuse me?" I said to him. "Are you joking? Why would I have any reason to want to be around you?"

Wash said nothing, messing with the controls.

"I want to call them," I thought aloud. "I need to make sure the Blood Gulchers are all right."

"You are so damn focused on those guys," the ex-Freelancer commented icily.

I blushed slightly, shrugging.

He watched me closely, his face darkening at my lack of reaction. "…You banged one of them, didn't you?"

"Wash!" I gasped, outraged. "Why would you think that?"

Wash's eyebrows raised. "You're not denying it, I see."

"I did not sleep with any of them!" I snarled. "See, this is exactly why we can't work together. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Maybe I just think you're getting too attached to those guys… literally."

I stared. "What—what happened to you?" I asked him. He ignored me, continuing his steering of the ship. "What happened to the Wash I used to know? Now you're a complete douchebag. Ever since Project Freelancer—and we—ended, you haven't stopped being an asshole to me once. And then, to put the cherry on top, you decided to be a pervert at the UNSC formal! What the hell was that about? A completely new tactic to piss me off?"

I saw a flicker of some sort of emotion I couldn't read flash across his face. However, as soon as I had seen it, his expression changed to one of contempt. "Wha—what," he said abrasively, avoiding eye contact with me. "You didn't expect me to have any side effects?You expected me to be the same person after having my mind torn to pieces? After everything that happened with you?"

My eyes widened.

"This… this goes beyond that," I said quietly. I was nervous. This was the first time we had talked about what had happened… ever.

"You don't know that," Wash responded, gritting his teeth. "You don't know a thing. Things—things aren't that simple."

I glared at him. "Oh, all right. Not that simple. What an amazing explanation."

"My explanation is better than your lame attempt at pretending you didn't give one of those guys a blowj—"

"WASH!" I screamed, standing up suddenly. "You dick. You absolute, insufferable dickhead. I never should have agreed to this mission. I… I hate you!"

I stormed out of the cockpit, enraged. Just before closing the door leading to the hallway, I looked back at Wash. His eyes were locked on the chair I had been sitting in, staring wide and unblinking. His face was frozen in an expression of surprise… and hurt?

I slammed the door, stalking off to my cabin room. Wash was just going to have to fly the damned plane by himself until Command gave him the go-ahead to put it on autopilot. He'd manage.

Too infuriated to stand still, I began pacing around my small room.

What had happened to the Wash I knew so long ago? Before we had… ended… he had been such a decent guy. Even a goodie-goodie at times. His moral compass had been infallible. Now… with everything that had happened… he had changed. He was different. Now, Wash was just this tough hardass. No feelings, no care about anyone except himself.

That wasn't the way things used to be.

It wasn't the sarcasm. I was used to that. Back when he and I had been… happy… he had used his flirty wit to make me laugh for hours. Now, his sarcasm was stained with a bite of derision.

There was no doubt about it. Wash had turned into an absolute dickhead. The transition from gentleman to asshole had been instantaneous.

I knew that the catastrophe had something to do with it. That much was obvious. Yet… there was something else at play here. I was sure of it. Why had his expression of scorn flickered like that during our conversation? What was he hiding?

I suddenly felt a slight jolt in the ship as the engines adjusted—we had just switched to autopilot.

I sighed. We still had such a long way to go.

In every sense of the phrase.