kittencafe | York's Interdimension Basket of Washes

David nods slightly. "We don't use those anymore, remember? Because we're hiding. PFL wants what's in my head. Florida wants to kill us. See? Just use my name. We use names, Miles. Even Delta uses our names."

Their fourth, in a lot of ways.

"This... isn't home?"

So Project Fucked Up is a thing in that world. And what's in his head... Epsilon. Or his memories at least. Has to be. ...Maybe this is a world a lot like Other Wash's, only that York and North went back for Wash, they escaped together and formed a threeway relationship. Plausible.

Florida after them though. That's fucking terrifying.

'I'll call you David if you want, but I'm still not Miles. This is... yeah, it's not your home. The planet's called Adaptive. Not sure if you'll know of it or not.' Other Wash had never heard of it before.

Well... that news means one of two things. Either this is a full psychotic snap, which he isn't discounting, or something has actually happened. Either way this isn't a memory. And when it isn't a memory it's... easier.

David stands a little straighter, walks with a little more confidence. "So, if this isn't the middle of an overwhelming war against Covenant forces and you aren't Agent York of Project Freelancer, why do you have a SPARTAN Mark VI helmet?"

At least he's not calling him a liar or on the verge of tears anymore. Looking a bit more confident and a bit more like the other two Washes who could have him pinned to the wall by a knife in his hood if they wanted.

'Because I'm York, also knows as the Thief of the For Hires, a mercenary group based on a planet that has toxic clouds that will kill you in seconds. Everyone here has helmets to filter the air. Mine's a standard Charon Mark VI, and I know the designs overlap a lot. Though I think mine would be a bit small for a Spartan.'

"It's a smaller, female SPARTAN design," Wash notes. "It's based on the same style and... Wait... Is the war here too?"

He's not ready to fight. He doesn't have his armor, and the EMP's been stripped from it, and he doesn't have Epsilon. David knows he can fight, and he's not bad, but he's also not good enough to go without the armor while he's still got Epsilon-splinters in his head. They just won't crystalize into those moments of clarity anymore.

"And... I'm guessing from your shock, you're not involved with another me, or North, or Delta here."

'The war between the Spartans and... Cov-- Covenant? Thankfully, no. But a Spartan fell through the portal you just came through several months ago so she told me about it.'

It sounds like he's finally starting to believe him. Or at least consider the possibility that York isn't lying.

'We're not. I mean, we're friends, good friends. Actually, the you in this world is my best friend. But we're not together together. ...Wait, Delta too? How is that possible?'

"Direct neural stimulation of sensory processing, leading to the artificial creation of sensations ranging from direct release of hormones that register as pleasure, to phantom sensations across your skin. There is also a degree of mental possession, where either Miles melts into Delta a bit, allowing active sharing of physical sensations that Delta processes through Miles's brain, or Miles stepping back mentally and Delta overtaking active control of the body, complete with the sensations it receives," David explains.

Well, really, it's relaying Delta's verbatim 'simplified' explanation to him not too far back. "We're teaching him about human concepts such as love, lust, and pleasure. He's... a very eager student and partner to us all."

Oh.

Holy shit.

'That's uh... Fuck, I don't even know how to respond too that.' Other Wash told him he and Delta shared a mind which took enough getting his head around as it was, and now this Wash is telling him Delta could also manipulate and even control his body. That's a whole other level. Several levels. 'That's some serious sci-fi shit right there.'

And Delta was getting in on the relationship? Damn. Little green fragment making a life for himself apparently.

"Theta doesn't want involved, and Nic glares at us whenever we talk to... adultly for the little guy," David provides.

Not that he operates under the illusion that Theta can't dish it out. He knows Theta well enough to know he picked up quite a bit from South.

God, it's so weird hearing him use real names like that. Though he has to wonder if Nic is North's real name here, since his isn't Miles.

'Yeah, that makes sense. Theta's like twelve here, and I heard he's quite t-shildlike even as an AI.' And North's so protective.

"He's not a child," David says immediately, his voice hard. Theta isn't. He's been through too much, knows too much. Hell, they all have and do.

'I said "t-shildlike",' he defends. 'And I'm going off what someone else told me, I've never met him myself. The AI version of him, that is. They're human here and he's definitely a t-shild.'

David ignores the comment. This isn't his York. York would understand. He would know. The question is how he's supposed to get home. If he isn't there how does he protect his lovers? They'll worry about him too much.

"Where are we going?" he asks abruptly. make a plan.

'We're going to get you a helmet,' he says. 'The clouds are low at the moment, and if you're gonna be here for any time, you're gonna need one.' They'll try and get the portal capable of reversing the teleportation as soon as possible, but for now...

"Helmets are safe," David allows. "I want one."

'There should be plenty here,' he says, leading the way through the corridors.'Got a color preference? Grey and yellow accents?'

Those colors seem... unsafe.

"People might find me if I wear that," David warns him. "Leonard Church wants my head."

Not here they won't. They just might confuse him with the native Wash.

'Just to clarify, is that The Director or Alpha?' he asks. He's guessing the Director, but better to make sure and avoid confusion.

"In a lot of ways... I am the Alpha," David mumbles. "I am Leonard Church. I am..."

So many things. So few of them David anymore.

He winces.

'Wash. You're Wash, Washington. I'd use your real name but I don't know it. Regardless, you're that as well.' He's fresh from Epsilon, isn't he? He doesn't have the hardness in his eyes that Other Wash does, just the exhaustion and pain. 'It takes more than memories to make a person.'

"David. I was named David once. Now..."

York can't understand it, the way the memories overtake him. There is no comparison, no parallel. He opened himself to them and they are tearing him apart.

'David,' he repeats, trying it out. Is that his Wash's name as well? Is Nic North's? 'Struggling with the memories?'

"You couldn't possibly imagine," David answers.

And bless the fact that no one else in the world could.

'I probably couldn't,' he agrees, sighing. 'But I'll try to help anyway. What's the biggest blanket and pillow nest you've ever been in?'

That one David doesn't have to think about. It happens every night.

"Six pillows, four blankets," he provides instantly. "Two pillows for each of us, blankets for warmth."

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