Carter picked his head up, brushing his braid back as he took note of the stopper. He knew he should be jumping at this, to immediately want to go back there, but… he just didn’t want to. He didn’t want to keep chasing after a fantasy that would never come true. Carter looked his Jackson, taking a deep breath before mumbling softly, “Before we go in to investigate… would you want to… do you want to…” Carter leaned in, pure exhaustion from trying so, so hard from the past couple years showing in his eyes before saying, “… do you want to kiss me?” Just one simple kiss before they had to go investigate a fruitless room.
Jackson felt his breath hitch in this throat. He shouldn't, in case Arria was back there but, "Yes." He breathed, placing a light, soft kiss onto Carter's lips. It was quick, not like the kisses Carter and Arria used to share. He pulled back, "One last investigation." He mumbled, kisses Carter's forehead before leading him into the backroom.
Arria had slammed himself into the glass multiple more times. People moving backwards in case he broke the glass. He knew he wouldn't, but it was fun seeing them scared. Scared like he had been. But the fear had been replaced by anger, bitterness and pure hatred. The guard came rushing in, stopping in front of the take and telling him to stop, just as Jackson and Carter walked into the room.
Arria didn't even noticed, to focused on taunting the guard as he swam up, arched and slammed into the glass again, making the bruises on his arms deeper, "Come on! Punish me again you idiot! Or are you too afraid to do it in front of all these people? Come on, hurt me." He called out.
Carter soaked in the quick kiss, craving the comfort more than anything. Craving any kind of comfort, really. He was sick of droning on with this hopeless lifestyle. “One last investigation,” Carter repeated softly, an agreement. This would be the end of the hopelessness, the empty rooms, the failed missions. Carter was ready to… to move on. Carter walked in, staying close to Jackson. He was ready to be done, to go home after they’ve looked at the room.
But then everything changed when he saw that glass tank. When he took a second to recognize who was in it. A tiny, strangled sound came up from his throat, so quiet that only Jackson could hear. That was Arria. Arria. Carter’s legs moved without command as he stumbled into action, leaving Jackson’s side as he went to the front of the tank—pushing passed the guards without much care for consequences, and he pressed his hand to the sides of the tank and just looked in disbelief. “A-Arria?” A whisper so quiet, Carter almost didn’t believe it came from himself.
Arria looked from the guard to Carter. Carter. Most of the anger faded from his face as he sunk down to Carter's level, though a thread of it was still, "How did…?" He shook his head and dug his palms into his eyes. Not crying, he couldn't cry, just checking to see if this was all an illusion, "No. No you can't…" He swallowed. He hadn't felt another emotion is so, so long. And yet it was real. He was standing in front of the tank, in person. This was a dream, yet it felt real. Yet the pain in his arms from banging into the glass was real and the pain in his heart and chest were real. Three fucking years. Three years of being tortured, shown off and isolated from the rest of the world and now he decided to show up? Now he decided to put a plan in motion that could save him? And… Arria finally noticed Jackson in the back of the room, looking at Carter with a look that Arria used to give him. What was left if his heart broke into even smaller pieces. He could recognise that look anywhere. His jaw tightened, fists clenching as a way to keep his anger in check. Under difference circumstances it was a look that could make anyone melt but not now. He should have known it was too good to be true and was honestly glad that Maria had taken the ring Carter had given him. Because right now he wanted to throw it in Carter's face and tell him to fuck off.
Carter still stared, his hands shaking ever so slightly. Arria was right here in front of him, alive and real. All these years of searching and Carter finally found him. There was so many scars and bruises, he looked so different but he was real. Arria was right here, and Carter was right here, they were were right here. They were together. Carter stared for another moment before he fumbled to get his hidden dagger that was strapped to his calf. He yanked it out, and didn’t hesitate as he stabbed it into the glass—not cared what kind of damage the knife took, he just needed it to break. He just needed to get Arria out, no matter how messy it got. Deep down, Carter knew he wouldn’t be able to handle getting this close and failing.
The glass cracked and Arria swam back slightly before pushing against the crack, holding to help at least a little. For once, his efforts did, as the crack expanded and spread. He hissed, bruises stinging but he didn’t stop. A bad idea, it was a bad idea and he knew it. All this water and all these people. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t spend another minute in this tank, he’d die before that even happened. Even if Maria or someone stopped them on the way out he would not go back in that tank. It took a couple more attempts of stabbing and pushing before the glass broke, sending streams of water flooding the room. And Arria was hurled right out of that broken tank and straight at Carter.
Carter stumbled back a little as the water hit him, but he was fueled by pure adrenaline at this point. He caught Arria, but just barely as he felt a couple glass shard lodge into his forearm. He stumbled backwards, holding Arria to his chest as he shouted, “Jackson!” Carter stumbled away from the tank, towards the exit and towards Jackson. He clothes were soaked, and he kept nearly tripping as he dragged Arria, but he didn’t let himself look back. He didn’t let himself stop to see where the guards were, to look for danger. Carter couldn’t afford to stop now, he just needed to get to Jackson, to get out.
Jackson looked over, worry lining his features as he noticed the glass in Carter's arm as he ran over to them both, "Give me Arria! You can't carry him with the glass in your arm babe." He didn't even realise the slip up of the pet name, not in the commotion of everything. Arria noticed, didn't mention it but heard it, holding onto Carter just a little tighter. Guards were starting to fill the room, trying to escort people out and also try and get to the trio, although Jenny and a few others were holding them off.
Carter didn’t protest, he passed Arria over to Jackson. He looked down at his arm, long glass shards jutting out and blood beginning to drip down his arm. Carter didn’t let himself dwell on it—he’d need stitches, but they could sow it up when they got home. Carter still had his knife out, but the edge had gotten chipped from the glass. It’d still be enough to defend himself and Jackson and Arria. He heard a familiar woman’s voice -Maria- shriek from across the room, but didn’t dare look back as he sprinted for the exit.
Jackson followed, carrying Arria bridal style as he ran after Carter. They just had to get out, get to the boat and get back to the base and everything would be okay. Well, hopefully. Would Carter leave with Arria or stay with him? He shook his head, getting rid of the distracting thought and focused back on running. They weaved through the different displays and people, the entrance of the door so close. The three burst through, shouting and gun shots could only just be heard from inside the building now, and Jenny and few others came rushing out towards them, and the boat.
Carter felt the adrenaline begin to wear off as he ran, stumbling a little because of his wet clothing getting caught, and he tumbled into the boat as soon as he got there. He scrambled to get the motor started, feeling like every action was too slow. He could hardly focus on one thing at a time, there was too much stuff going on in his head. Arria. Arria was here, they were saving Arria. Finally.
Jackson ran onto the boat, practically throwing Arria onto the decking before rushing to Carter's side to help get the boat started. Arria hissed slightly, landing right on his bruises. He glared at the back of Jackson's head before slowly shifting himself to the side of the boat, looking over the edge at the water, at the ocean. The boat rumbled as Jackson managed to get it into gear, the rest of the team on the boat as they sped off. Arria didn't move, still looking over the edge of the boat.
Carter let Jackson take over, grateful for the other man. He sunk down onto the floor of the boat, all he energy sapped. Gosh, his arm hurt. He didn’t notice it until now. Carter slowly opened his eyes, looking at all the blood covering his forearm. Maybe Jackson could help him sow it when things settled down. Carter slowly turned his head to Arria. “Hey,” He mumbled, exhaustion clear in his voice and in his eyes.
Arria swallowed, "Hi," He said quietly. He didn't look over to Carter, eyes trained on the water. His heart felt heavy, his mind, too. He just wanted to go home. Go anywhere. He just wanted to get away. Away from whoever this Jackson guy was, "How are you?" He lifted his gaze, turning to Carter. He looked empty. No exhaustion, no anger, no happiness. Just empty, and he felt it.
Carter took a deep breath, but his chest felt tight. “I’ve been… okay,” He mumbled softly, reaching up back behind his head to take out his hair tie and to let his braid come undone. “It’s been… it’s been a long time. You look different,” Carter said softly, clearing his throat and busying himself by looking down at his bloody arm. He’d rather feel sick by looking at his blood-covered arm than look at Arria and feeling the tightness in his chest.
Arria snorted, "It's been three years," He deadpanned, "Of course I look different," He shook his head a little, hair falling in front of his face, "And so do you…" He wanted to jump over the side of the boat, "You should get your boyfriend to look at your arm. Looks pretty bad." Saying it out load made everything worse, and he subconsciously went to fiddle with where the ring used to be, only finding nothing there.
Carter tensed up ever so slightly at the tone, and when Arria finished… “I’m not- he’s not- we’re not- we’re not that,” He stuttered, shaking his head. Being honest… Carter didn’t know what he and Jackson were. He didn’t know what he and Arria were anymore either. Carter didn’t know what anything was anymore, it was like the world had shattered and rebuilt itself, but none of the pieces were where they were supposed to be.
Arria rolled his eyes, "Oh I'm sorry, I just assumed since he called you babe you were together." He couldn't look at Carter. There was something going, he could tell, he wasn't an idiot. He was so alone. He knew, physically, he wasn't. But Carter had moved on, or was in the process of moving on and Arria? He didn't have anyone anymore. He wanted everything to go back to the way it had been, but he knew it wouldn't.
Carter looked away as if he’d been physically hurt or slapped. Everything was so… so messed up. He didn’t know what to do. He glanced at Jackson, but didn’t dare look at Arria again. Carter didn’t have the energy to fight. All these years of searching, of sneaking into Maria’s events, of staying up late at night doing research to try to get a hint of Maria’s next move, of days were he just broke down from the hopelessness… all for what? For this? Carter expected to be happy, but he was the opposite. He felt more hopeless than he had when they hadn’t found Arria.
Arria clenched his fists, relaxing them a moment later. He looked back out over the water, contemplating jumping in and just swimming away. He couldn't do it. Couldn't stay here when Carter clearly didn't really want him anymore, when he had eyes on someone else. He was broken before but now he didn't even know if he could ever put the pieces back together again. He'd be better off dead at this point. Carter would be better off without him.
Carter cleared his throat, “We had salve for your bruises at the base,” He said softly, but didn’t look at Arria. It was the least he could do, even if Arria might… even if he might hate him now. Carter’s heart felt too heavy to carry. He glanced at Jackson again, praying the male -or even Jenny- would interrupt, would distract him from the pain in his heart. What had happened? Why had this uncrossable space grown between him and Arria? Carter had wanted to marry him, but now Carter felt like a stranger.
"Don't need it." He replied. It was obvious he did. The bruises were so deep, black and purple all the way down with his arms with a few littered along his torso and back. But he wouldn't take anything that had come from Jackson, not when it was partly his fault they were so distant now. He knew it was mainly Maria's fault, but if Jackson hadn't come into the picture… maybe Carter would still love him.
“You do,” Carter disagreed softly, but didn’t look at Arria. “At least go… go see someone, at least Gallion or Herla or Mulir.” He let out a soft sigh. Would he ever see those guys again? Would he ever even go into the ocean again? Right now… Carter didn’t think he’d ever have that opportunity again. Carter felt like something between him and Arria had broke so badly it was unfixable.
Arria looked to Carter, "I said I don't need it. This isn't the worst I've had to take in the past three fucking years," He shook his head, running a hand through his hair a moment later. At this point he felt like he was on the verge of tears, he could feel it. Everything he had bottled up for three years was surfacing but he wished it wasn't in front of Carter, "And if you want me to go I can. Stop the boat, I'll jump out and you'll never see me again. You can… you can have a better life with whats-his-face. It's obvious seeing as how you can't even look at me and you're looking right at him."
Carter’s heart broke. It just snapped in half, right there. “I don’t want you to go, but it seems like that’s all you want to do. Maybe I can’t bear to look at you because I don’t know what to say to fix things.” Carter knew he needed to shut up, he needed to shut up right now. Nothing good was going to come out of his mouth, and he knew he’d regret every syllable he spoke, but he was so, so stupid. “Maybe I’ve been trying to find you for three years, without a break, and I come to find you like- like this. Maybe I’m sick of feeling this unending hopelessness, and when I finally find you, you- you aren’t even grateful,” Carter spat and immediately regretted the words. He dug his nails into his knees, biting down on his tongue to keep himself from shattering what he just broke.
