gunsforhire | Log: All The Small Things

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Log: All The Small Things

Who: Wash (OU) and you!
What: Wash has completed his first job as a mercenary and is out to celebrate it
Where: Out and about in town, picking up some better equipment, and then to the Eagle and Asp for a drink
When: Afternoon to night 29/11
Warnings: None so far

It hadn't been the most glamorous of jobs, but any notion of glamour had been beaten out of him practically the day he'd enlisted. The important thing was that his first job as a registered mercenary had gone well and that was the first step to being able to take care of himself without having to rely on other people. Sure, it would take a few more jobs before he felt comfortable, but it was a start.

That was cause enough for celebration, right?

His first step is to head out to a supplier to stock up on equipment. Nothing fancy for now, but enough to get him started. A good gun or two, and a solid combat knife.

There's other things that he needs, an almost overwhelming amount, he realises now that he has the money to start thinking about it. Clothes that aren't fatigues or armour, and there's so many different kinds that it takes him far longer than it should to pick out what he needs.

And once that's done, he heads to the Eagle and Asp for a drink. It feels appropriate somehow.

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Wash gives a short nod to that. "Yeah. Sounds good. Meet me by the checkout in ten minutes?" Everything else he needs, he is fairly sure that he can just pick up easily. It isn't as though he needs feedback on his underwear.

Delta nods and heads off, glad that he isn't being asked to give feedback on underwear. So he heads off to the register to buy his new scarf. Once that's done he has them remove the tags and settles the scarf back around his neck and is happy to have the protective barrier of a scarf restored. Then, of course, the only thing he can do is wait for...

He doesn't have this man's name.

Oh god what is wrong with him? How could he make that mistake again? God his life is a mess."

The rest of the clothing is easy enough to pick up. A few packs of socks and underwear and a leather belt. He grabs a pair of black gloves too. He misses wearing gauntlets and the temperature controlled environment of his suit.

He pays quickly and gets his purchases bagged up. That is a lot of bags. He doesn't think he's ever owned so many clothes at one time.

He spots Delta nearby and heads over to him. "Done."

Oh, here he is. Delta smiles and nods at him. "I didn't get your name. Or give you mine. I'm Delta... I'd offer my hand but yours seem pretty full."

Oh right, he hadn't introduced himself. So this is Delta. That is... not exactly what he was expecting. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. But Delta had always been the most... computer-like of them, except Gamma. The one who seemed the most content with his identity as a computer program. Albeit one that had been so attached to York it had intended to die alongside him.

"Wash. I'm called Wash. Nice to meet you."

"Wash?" Delta asks, shocked. Now that he thinks about it, he can see see something familiar about the man.

"You're..."

He's so confused. Washington should recognize him. They had talked relatively recently. What... was going on here.

"I knew you were familiar but... you don't recognize me?"

Should have lied. Should have gone with David, even if there's a squirming discomfort in telling people that name. It doesn't feel like his anymore. Should have made up another name.

He gives Delta a confused look, shakes his head. "No. Should I? I mean, I've only been here a month or so but I've usually got a good memory for faces."

"Huh?" Delta asks, so very confused. "But..."

This is all just... weird. "You're... sure?"

Because now that it's been said, he does recognize Washington's face, even if it's hard to believe. He wants to reach out and touch it and... Oh, well, he's figured it out.

"Is this just another ploy from Florida to fuck with me? Because I'm tired of that."

"I'm sure," he says bluntly. He sighs and sets one of his bags down before running a hand through his hair. He'd actually been enjoying himself and now that was fucked because of this world's Wash. And yes, he knows that's unfair but right now, he can't help but resent him.

He rolls his eyes. "If someone was that determined to fuck with you, their plan is full of holes and generally not very good." A chance meeting while shopping that relied upon Delta offering to help. That was ridiculous.

"I'm sorry," Delta says softly, looking away. "You just... look an awful lot like someone I know who is, coincidentally, named Washington. My life is just weird enough for something like this to happen, though."

He shakes his head. Maybe this guy is a mercenary who is trying to elbow in on Wash's life and he had the misfortune of running into the guy. That was... bad.

"I should go."

"I'd hope that no-one would look this exhausted," he replies, giving a wry smile. And he knows that his double doesn't. He's happy. He gets to have that.

"I thought we were going for a drink. You really have helped me a lot, and I'd like to get you that if nothing else."

"You do understand that it is quite alarming that you happen to look quite a bit like an acquaintance of mine and you claim to possess the same name, do you not? For a normal person that would be upsetting enough, but given recent family history and the current mess that my life is, your presence is either a truly cruel prank by a man I know because he is irrationally upset over my recent break-up, a ploy to take over the identity of my acquaintance, or you intend to cause harm to said acquaintance or to my family as you are a mercenary being paid to do so."

Delta crosses his arms over his chest and gives Wash a less than amused look.

"Considering that, would you trust you in my position?"

Wash shrugs, shoulders slumping a little. "I don't trust myself anyway so I can't exactly comment. And I won't- I'm not going to force you to do anything. I know what betrayal feels like." From both sides if he's honest with himself. Neither of them felt good. "But I've got no interest in hurting you or your family or taking over anyone's identity. And I really know nothing about any breakups. That's between you and your ex."

He looks away, sighs. "But whatever. Look, the smoothie shop is just up the street, it's broad daylight. My arms are full of shopping bags. It's crowded. You don't even have to stick around once I've bought your drink."

Okay, so... maybe the guy has a point. And perhaps he can accept that. If the man was going to kidnap him, well, Fuck it. Who cares. At last he nods a bit.

"Alright. I don't promise to stick around," Delta says. "But I won't help you carry the bags. I'm sorry, I just won't."

Wash relaxes, just a little. He does want to repay Delta for helping him. And he'd enjoyed talking to him honestly. It had been easy until he'd told him his name. Delta had always been the AI that he got on best with.

He picks up his bags so they're taking up both of his hands. "If it makes you feel safer, that's fine."

"Honestly, it does," Delta admits. "Though really, if you're anything like the Washington I know... well, I guess it wouldn't help me."

He's allowed himself this one moment, this smoothie. After all, the guy was nice. But Delta has to question why he found this man attractive when he hadn't considered...

Right, he hadn't met Wash until after Maine. Okay. He gets that. Or maybe it was just how lost he was. Delta can't help but notice that he's looked toward people who need help lately.

"He a soldier too?" Wash asks blandly. He's curious despite himself, about what other people might think of the other version of him. "Trust me, it's really hard to shoot when your hands are this full." He could do it if he wanted to, but anything that helped to set Delta at ease was a good idea.

"If only," Delta sighs. If only Maine and Wash and all of them were soldiers, not mercenaries. Then... Then he wouldn't be like this. "He's a mercenary. Paid killer. That seems to be what a lot of people are these days. I seem to be merc bait."

Which makes him look at Wash out of the corner of his eye before he heads to the entrance of the store to open a helmet storage compartment with his thumbprint and pull his helmet out to don it.

"Well, technically that's what soldiers are too," Wash replies. "You're getting paid to fight and kills and quite possibly die. Or worse." And once he'd believed they were protecting people, but when you've had your squad sent out to die because of fucking stupid decisions, you start to feel a little less favourable. "Trust me, I've seen enough bullshit there."

No-one had questioned why the Project had gone down, but they could blame him for destroying UNSC property.

He pulls out his own helmet and puts it on. Easier in some ways. Doesn't have to hide his expression.

"It's not that simple," Delta counters. "Soldiers and their families aren't targeted by other random soldiers, hunted down specifically to be cruel and terrible."

And Delta hates that difference. "Soldiers get to have families and loved ones and support them. Mercenaries... don't."

"Sometimes they are," Wash says quietly, and he can remember all too clearly York bleeding out after being hunted for so long, North dead, and South turning on him until he'd killed her. And Maine, always Maine become the Meta. "From what I've heard, at least the mercs here have the chance of having backup instead of relying on a chain of command that doesn't give a damn unless you have rank and influence."

He shrugs. "But what can I say, I saw my whole team killed because our CO was more invested in us as experiments than as people."

Oh... wow. Delta buries his face again at the thought. And to think, there were still people, his own brother, who thought they were some kind of experiment.

"I'm sorry," he says softly. "To compare my situation to yours is... well, it's wrong. Trivializes what you lost. Forgive me."

He stops at that, and shakes his head. "That's not what I meant. Things suck. They've made me a terrible person. But just because you've not gone through that doesn't mean other people don't get to feel shitty about what's happened to them." What he's been through doesn't justify what he'd done to the Red and Blues, to Doc. He'd been angry and selfish and self-obsessed. And he still is in so many ways. "I just meant... systems suck, in general. There are bad people inside every system. They'll hurt people no matter what because it's just who they are. But there are good people too. My team, we were caught in a really awful system. And it screwed us over. But they were good people and I wouldn't change having met them for anything."

"That makes you and I quite different," Delta informs him simply, moving forward immediately. He doesn't want to talk about all the things he'd change in his life.

"The world is an awful system. Life is an awful system. The one who win are the ones who know how to manipulate it to their own ends. The rest of us just try and survive."

He wouldn't be here if not for them. He wouldn't be who he is. And even when he's angry and hateful about them, when it hurts so much that they'd left him, he knows that beneath that he just misses them. He follows after Delta, catching up quickly.

"Pretty much," he agrees easily. "Because something in you is too stubborn and spiteful to stop surviving."

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