kittencafe | York's Interdimension Basket of Washes

Things happen.

This is a universal fact that David has long since come to accept. No, more than that. Bad things happen. Have not the last months of his life been an exploration in this concept. Wasn't PFL properly summed up, long before everything went to hell, in those words?

Bad things happen. Like you walk towards your apartment door in some grungy old building on some shitty backwater planet far from where anyone would ever look for you. Bad things happen like you know you're walking towards your apartment door and then you're tripping over your feet and counting the fibers of a carpet that does not exist.

There was no carpet in his apartment, except in the rarely used bedroom. His feet are always cold, which is why he wears socks. Doubly true since Eon because the kitten liked to play with his feet and the tiny extra protection of socks always helped. But this isn't the color of the carpet in the bedroom, so David, formerly Agent Washington of Project Freelancer, stares at the fibers for a while and wonders just what memory he's falling into. Because clearly, it's the only rational answer.

Either that or he's finally gone well and truly insane.

A call comes through from one of his friends watching the trnasponser. Someone's come through, and it's another Wash. Great timing! Giving Holly instructions to take care of him until he gets there, he leaves the current two Washes in the nest, under supervision since he doesn't trust them to not get out yet, and drives quickly to the casino.

When he gets there, he hurries inside, wondering how shitty a hand this Wash has been dealt and hoping it's not too bad. Soon see. He rounds a corner and finds Holly talking quietly to the young man who's just shifted worlds.

This isn't real. None of this is real. None of it can be real. For one thing, Leonard Church never knew a woman that looked like this, has never been in a room that looks like this. Nor has David, or Agent Washington, or Epsilon. The only one that has ever been in a room that glowed with faint blue light cast from a...

No.

No no. No nono no no nononono no.

noononononnononoono

David rushes from the woman, finds a corner to put himself in. Back to two walls, minimize angles of attack. He pulls his legs up to his knees and tells himself the only thing that makes sense.

"It isn't real. I'm not here. They can't hurt me. They can't hurt me. I'm not him and she's dead and this isn't real."

Holly looks up as York comes in, her expression worried. York's gaze darts from her to the man in the corner and, okay, that wasn't a good start for hoping things were non-shitty.

'He started jabbering a few minutes ago,' Holly says softly, trying not to startle him. 'He hasn't stopped since, I don't know what's wrong.'

'Thanks, Hol. I'll take it now,' he says, and once she's gone, he slowly moves closer to the new Wash. This is really not good. Poor guy.

'Hey. Hey, Wash. It's me, York. Can you hear me?'

York?

The name, the voice, it's perfect. That's safety. Here an anchor to pull him from the grips of Alpha's memories. He doesn't want to live the torture. Don't make him live through the torture in full, terrible detail.

David is up and throwing himself into York's arms immediately, burying his face in his boyfriend's neck.

"Miles," he whispers, his voice raw with emotions ranging from fear to love to simple fatigue. "Miles he won't stop making me remember what happened. You've got to help. It won't stop. I can't make it stop anymore."

Well, that's a reaction. York doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around Wash despite his surprise. He's thin. Definitely thinner than both the other Washes, he should know, he's hugged both of them. That's also not a great sign. And that's not all.

'I'm--' not Miles. He doesn't finish it though. Let the guy calm down a bit first, then explain the situation and hope he doesn't freak out too much.

'I've got you,' he says instead. Comfort, that's what this Wash clearly needs. And a blanket nest. 'You're safe, I promise you're safe. Let's get you out of here.' The room is a bit creepy with the transponser in the middle. Etheral, but in a kind of freaky way. best to get Wash out of sight of it.

"Where's Nic?" David asks, following as he's told. Because it's an easier question than 'where am I' because sometimes the echoes of a fragment get him into weird places in the city. But surely if Miles found him then Nic is looking too.

If only he could ask Delta. The AI would know immediately where Nic was.

That is a question he would love to answer, but he has no clue who Nic is. Or Miles, for that matter. Is he Miles? Wash certainly seemed to think so, but it seems strange that his counterpart wouldn't share his real name. Unless Wash was mistaking him for someone else? But he wouldn't have reacted like that if he didn't recognize him, right? So that means that not only does his counterpart have a different real name, but he's told Wash what it is.

'I don't know, sorry,' he admits as they get out of the room. 'But I'm sure he's safe. Are you gonna be alright?'

"No," David whispers. "No I'm not. Just... take me home. Please, love, I just want to go back to sleep and..."

Well, when he says 'never wake up' his boyfriends get very concerned. "Can I borrow Delta tonight? Just to make the dreams go away? He's good at interrupting him. Though I guess Theta is better at making them happy."

"Love"? Okay, this is... complicated. And that talk about Delta and Theta. That's got to be them as AIs, right? Humans wouldn't be able to make dreams happy. God, that's weird that they can do that. He keeps forgetting the AIs were integrated the agents' brains.

So this Wash is from a world a bit more similar to Other Wash's than this one. And has really bad nightmares? Definitely poor guy.

'I... Okay, please don't freak out. I'm not Miles. Or I am, I think, maybe. I'm York, but my real name isn't Miles. You fell through a portal, that's what the glowy thing was, and this is like an alternate reality-slash-universe thing. I promise I'm not going to hurt you.' He loosens his grip so Wash can get out more easily if he wants.

It sounds like miles and looks like Miles and yet there is total bullshit coming out of his mouth.

"It's not April, and it's not funny," David warns him, his voice low and not quite a growl. Not too much of angry Maine or Omega in it. They aren't even all that prominent in his memories, so they aren't easy to tap. "Don't lie to me, Miles. Tell him it isn't funny, D."

York sighs, running his fingers through his hair with his free hand. 'Yeah, Delta's not... in my head. He's an AI in your world, right? He's human here, they all are. Look, you can t-sheck the back of my neck if you want, I don't have the - what are they called again? - neural implants.'

Please don't let this go too badly.

Edited 2015-12-24 14:05 (UTC)

It's official. He has finally lost it. This is true insanity.

David shakes his head and pushes York away from him.

"Stay away from me. You're not York. You're a liar!"

He lets him go without any resistance and sighs. This is what he'd been worried about, now it's a matter of trying to convince him of the truth.

'I am York. Just not your York. This is another world, I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it's true. And I'm a terrible liar, you should know that.'

This is beyond crazy

"Stop," he pleads. Why do people keep hurting him? "I want Nic. Where is Nic?"

He keeps his distance, though he's aching to comfort this version of his friend.

'I don't know who Nic is, I'm sorry,' he says. 'Is he one of the... Freelancers? We haven't got onto first name basis here.'

David can't help but feel exasperated to hear that voice ask that question.

"He's our boyfriend," he reminds York, voice sharp. Because already it's Miles again at his side, being stupid. When was Delta going to step in?

'"Our"?' he repeats, unable to help himself. There's a universe where he's got two boyfriends. Nice. But who would the third... oh. 'Holy shit, it's North, isn't it? You, me, well Miles-York, and North.' Oh wow.

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."

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