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Started September 21, 2021 by @CaseyJ group

tune

Elliot made a face when the metal one called him kid again, he was reasonably sure they were of a similar age, but he wasn't going to correct them, this was her territory and that meant they had the advantage in this conversation. At their mercy. When they introduced themselves, Elliot nodded, clearly memorizing the numbers in his brain, but mouthing the name silently 'Z', though his Government accent did add another syllable to the one letter name. He stared at the prosthetic hand before reaching out and clasping it, shaking her hand, the metal grip cold and firm.

This distraction proved.. Unwise. Elliot wasn't watching the angered man, a mistake he would have never made with a wounded animal, furious and looking for blood. He should have treated him the same. Letting go of Z's prosthetic hand, a different, but similarly cold metal chilled the gingers skin. The same gun pressed mercilessly to his forehead. Elliot didn't really react physically, his hand dropped and he stared at the older man, dead in the eyes. If he was going to hell he sure as hell wanted to make sure he was watching.

The trigger pulled.

The hammer slammed home with a loud click.

Nothing happened.

"Chet!" Z shouted as he fired the gun at Elliot. And she was relievingly surprised to find no bullet fired. That didn't stop them from getting angry, "What the heck are you thinking?!"

Chet was stunned. He cocked the hammer and pulled the trigger again.
Still nothing.
Something cold replaced the inferno of rage in his chest just then. Something cold and hard and lifeless.
Despair.
He'd held onto that nugget of anger for so long, that finally giving in and grieving was… it threatened to rip his soul apart.
He stepped back, frantically checking the chambers on the revolver. He pulled out the bullet he'd been saving for 6 years, holding onto for this man.

On close inspection, he realized what he'd done. He had fidgeted so much with the bullet over the years that he'd worn down the primer cap to uselessness. The firing pin of the gun hadn't been able to make enough contact to fire the bullet.

He could stab him. He could put a crossbow bolt through his neck. He could explode him in little pieces. If it came to it, Chet could beat Elliot to death with his bare fists.

But this… this felt bigger than just a malfunction. Chet didn't even know if he believed in God or the Fates or any kind of higher power, but this felt like Something telling him to let go.

Danny's face appeared in his mind, except smiling, laughing this time. He'd not had a memory like that in ages. Any time he'd tried to think of his brother, his dear little brother, he could only think of him in his dying moments.

The sudden memory cracked his resolve entirely. He stared at Elliot for a moment, before looking at Z, something inscrutable in his eyes.
"I… I don't know."

Elliot stared down the barrel of the gun, waiting for it to fire. The man pulled the trigger again and again, and he even vaguely registered the mans name 'Chet', an old word, and in his state of tired shock the meaning even flitted through his mind. It meant 'fortress', and Elliot felt like he was watching the walls crumble.

The ginger didn't know if he should feel sad or angry, the pity from before still burning a hole into his stomach. Right now he just felt.. Tired. Too much had happened, his body was exhausted. The only sleep he'd gotten was from briefly being punched unconscious. He simply couldn't keep going.

He should be dead so many times now, it almost felt like he was wearing out the words from how much he'd used them. Perhaps Elliot had a guardian angel watching out for him, or something else that wanted to see him suffer. Perhaps it was karma, though karma didn't save the world from dying did it?

Elliot couldn't watch the older man, he averted his gaze, almost embarrassed. This seemed like something deeply personal, an intimate moment of his mind that he shouldn't be watching. The exhausted sniper still hadn't moved, his head resting against the wall of a foreign shed, the ginger wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Even the self-hatred, the loathing, his constant companion, seemed tired. Curled up and resting in his chest. Eyes burned his skin and the words spoken struck him.

Elliot was uncomfortable, his skin was crawling with guilt and an uncomfortable feeling of shame. It wormed its way in, working its way to his core, an apple being infected by a worm. He should apologize, but it would do no good. It might make the man more angry. Instead, he did the only thing he could, he put his head back and closed his eyes, too tired to argue further, words were futile in a world of fire and ash.

Z could see… Something in Chet's eyes, and decided to file that away to deal with later. They could tell Elliot needed sleep and probably could be moved somewhere a bit more comfortable than laying against a bit of scrapmetal. She glanced from Elliot to Chet and her eyes stayed on Chet as she let out a sigh, "Alright then. I think this has been enough emotional turmoil for one day, and I need to figure out where I'm going to house all of you. I don't think there's enough room in my shack for the three of you. At least not without a bit of cleaning."

Chet swallowed hard, and nodded at her. "I can st-stay outside, I'm used t-to it, and h-he needs to h-heal." His tone was very quiet, and had lost all of the intensity. He wasn't sure what was making him stammer. His body felt weird, numb almost. He turned and walked out of the shed, stumbling without realizing he'd done it.
He found a pile of scrap outside and flopped down into the sand, leaning back on that pile, staring at the ground.
What's wrong with me?

Sean went back to wandering around the scrap yard, rubbing his knuckles which still hurt, he wasn't much of a fighter, more of a defense than offense. He sighed, he never wanted to leave the Gov, but he didn't want to be a part of it either, it's just…knowing what to expect is less stressful than not knowing what the next day might bring. Sure yeah he met..people..but he was sure Chet would shoot anyone who thought of serving the Gov, and Elliot was dealing with stuff..and Z…well she was a mediator…so Sean felt like he was just adding extra weight to their shoulders. He sat down with a huff, trying to keep himself from having a breakdown, something he had managed to avoid since the day he was kiddnapped.

"No," Z quickly responded following Chet outside after manhandling Elliot onto her bed. They saw Chet laying on the sand and let out a long sigh, "Get up. I have spare bedding somewhere. No one is sleeping outside tonight, at least none of you three."

Chet was deep into a thousand yard stare, sitting hunched on the ground. When Z spoke, he barely responded. A slight grunt was all he said.
What is happening? I don't even know what I want out of this situation now… without that chip, he's kind of a different person… but he still admitted to killing Danny.
Danny's face flashed through his mind, talking animatedly about something he enjoyed.
And what's up with that? Why can I suddenly remember things about Danny that I've been trying to remember for years but couldn't?

Z let out another long sigh as she walked over and crouched down in front of him. They snapped their fingers a few times in front of Chet's face, "Ya with us buddy?"

He reacted like she'd slapped him, flinching hard. He stared at her for a second, before shaking his head to clear it. "Yes, Z. I'm sorry, yeah, I'm-… I'm here." He looked down. "Did you need something?"

"No, well yes, I need you to come back into the shed. I'm not gonna let any of you sleep outside tonight, it gets cold in the desert you know?" Z told him letting her voice be softer given Chet's extreme reaction. They offered a hand out to Chet as they stood up, "Now come on. I'll show you where you can sleep for the night."

Chet took the offered hand and stood up. He followed her back into the shed. "I'm sorry I flinched so bad, I didn't realize you were there. And thanks… I've slept out on the sand before but its not my favorite." He looked around. "I thought you said you didn't have room, though?"

"I said I needed to make room," Z corrected him as she led him back into the shed. They began to move around some of the extra scraps and eventually made room for two of the mattresses they knew were out in the yard. She glanced back at Chet before grabbing some of her extra blankets and giving them to him, "Here. I'm going to get one of the spare mattresses in the yard and then you can get to sleep alright?"

Chet nodded slowly. He was not fully aware of his surroundings, still halfway stuck in his head. Her words didn't quite register, for a moment.
He suddenly looked up at her, very confused. "Sorry, you're gonna put us all in here? I literally just tried to shoot Elliot in the head! Sean is thinking about going back, I'm clearly a little trigger happy, and Elliot likely doesn't feel safe around me." He started to head back out. "I should definitely sleep outside."
The switch in his head from calling the ex-Guv 3110 had happened without him really realizing he was making that decision. The guy was Elliot, not a number.
And Chet was confused by his own feelings on the matter. Everything for years, had led to this moment, and now, it seemed like he was processing the catharsis of having shot the guy, despite the fact that Elliot was very much alive. He also wasn't sure what to think about the guy now, whether to give him a chance, or just say 'good luck' and hope never to see him again.
Some weird part of him felt a strange responsibility towards Elliot, as if there was some way he was responsible for making sure Elliot survived in the new world he found himself in. As if, since it was Chet's fault he couldn't go back, it should be Chet's job to make sure he had something to live for.
Which was a ridiculous notion. I think. I hope.
And besides, Z seemed capable. Sean was semi-helpful. Elliot would be fine.

"That's why I'm here. I'll stop any of you from doing something stupid," Z retorted before she stepped out of the shed and into the yard. Their feet went on auto-pilot as they walked through the scrapyard heading towards the mattresses. She spotted two in decent condition and picked one up to bring it back to the shed.

Sean eventually fell asleep, sitting on the ground leaning against scrap. He didn't want to go back…but he didn't feel welcome, his whole life he was sent on dead end missions because he was just in the way. He was always forced to be alone, because he was annoying and distracting. He'll even the Refuge, the one 'safe place' got tired of him. None of that helped his self doubt. Not that he would let anyone know, he would probably just sneak away during the night, not like anyone would miss him. At least that's what his mind told him.

Elliot layed on the mattress, his conscious mind slowly slipping away from him, he knew he needed sleep, but nagging thoughts kept popping into his head. He could quietly hear Chet and Z talking, and he wondered if he should be worried about the man who wanted to kill him, and probably still did, being under the same fragile roof. Instead, the red head felt an odd sense of calm wash over him, he knew he'd survive until the morning at least. Maybe it was all his strange coincidences leading to him still being alive, but.. For the first time that Elliot could remember, he felt safe. It was an odd feeling, he wasn't sure he liked it. It felt so at odds with how he felt about himself, he didn't deserve to feel safe.

With the pounding in his head gone, it was somehow easier and harder to think. The silence both refreshing and disturbingly new. He'd left behind his life's work at the Compound, his years spent studying plants and animals mostly wasted, unless someone else could manage to decode and pick up his research notes. Highly unlikely. Elliot felt a yearning to hold his rifle, though he had no idea what these people had done with his pack, and hew knew it would be far out of his reach. It would have been something to tether him to his old life, even if it was a reminder of the things he'd done. What he had to do.

The ginger sighed, finally putting his mind to getting some actual rest. He knew he needed it, spending the last few days sleep deprived wasn't doing wonders for his performance, his supervisor would- His supervisor wouldn't do anything.. Maybe mark him down as missing and then dead. Elliot breathed out slowly through his nose, trying to get his breathing in a smooth rhythm. A soldier could sleep anywhere and this was certainly one of the more comfortable places he'd had to camp out.

Tomorrow would have tomorrow's problems. He'd have to face these people, even the ones it hurt to look at. There were so many words that needed to be spoken, that still hung in the air unsaid, but that was for tomorrow. Elliot's last thought before his mind finally slipped into restful oblivion was that he wouldn't have to get up for roll call in the morning. It made his shoulders relax.