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The west side of the house is facing the mountain and therefore doesn't get much sun, but Bec doesn't need it to know he hasn't slept all night. The house is quiet, but the others are probably not sleeping, either – not after the sudden appearance of a dazed and barely standing Combine traitor right before sunrise.
And not just any traitor, no.
Bloody, you goddamn maniac.
Alive and in the flesh, laying down on the bed opposite of the armchair 2810 is sitting in. With the crooked and nonsensical stitches taken out and worn bandages replaced thanks to Cole and his surprising amount of expertise. And out cold, thanks to Victor and his quick reflexes.
Bec buries his face in his hands and groans. He should be thankful for how things are playing out so far, considering that he's alive at all, but it does little to ease the tension currently trying to crush his skull.
Things won't be peaceful when he wakes up.
No one was happy to hear the news on who they took in, least of all Cole, who had just finished diligently packing and bandaging the miraculously non-infected wounds half an hour ago.
"Are you serious!?" he hisses, unimpressed by the sunken look he gets in response. "You're still helping him after what he did to Victor? Are you out of your mind!? Or do you just not give a shit about what he has to say on the matter?"
"Quiet the hell down, Cole," Noelle cuts in, sitting across the table from him. "What else would you suggest – that we leave him outside to get up on his own? Wake him up and shoo him to go back into the mountains? I don't know, throw him into the lake?"
"Can't say I would've minded that last one," A-Twenty-one spits out. She's standing in the corner of the kitchen, arms crossed and about as cheery as the rest of the group. "And I'm sure neither would he," she adds, nodding in the vague direction of the front door.
"Alright, that's plenty," Bec grits out in response before taking a slow, deep breath. He needs to give a measured and reasonable response if he wants to keep the situation under control.
Not that it feels like he's keeping anything under control right now.
"You're right, Cole," he starts, glancing between the two objectors. "Victor has a right to say here. He knows that, I know that."
There's a metallic clinking behind him, and he turns slightly to see Nevena taking out a glass from the cupboard. She seems to have no interest in joining the conversation, contributing only a heavy sigh.
"Which is why I already asked him."
"Did you now?" A-Twenty-one comments, words dripping with suspicion and sarcasm.
"Yes. Believe it or not, I wouldn't have even told you what happened between them without his permission," Bec points out, matching her tone. She purses her lips, but seems to back down to give him time to speak.
"So what did he say?" Noelle asks on behalf of everyone else.
28 swallows and stares at the table, trying to keep his voice steady as he takes a breath. It still comes out shaky, if only slightly so.
"'Do whatever you want'. That's all he said on the matter."
A slight creak of the door pulls Bec out of his half-asleep state, and he perks up, rubbing his eyes to get the drowsy look off his face.
"Yeah?"
There's a small pause, before a familiarly distorted voice crackles to life, making 28's stomach tense up:
"Oh."
Okay. He has to navigate this carefully.
"Victor? What are you doing here?"
Right. A great question, he immediately chastises himself. Is it really that unexpected? But, God, he really didn't think it would escalate this quickly, and is he really going to be able to-?
"Should ask you the same thing," Victor deflects, now properly coming inside and closing the door behind himself. He doesn't look too good, even with his face hidden. His hair is all over the place thanks to the makeshift straps holding the mask in its place, and his posture gives away his exhaustion. Without the CP armor and generous amounts of drugs to prop him up, he's just like all of them — a tired, grieving survivor.
Unfortunately, the grieving part is exactly what can make him all the more dangerous right now.
There's seemingly no weapons on him, though. That's good at least. That's good, Bec repeats in his mind in an attempt to quell his rising anxiety. And the question is good, too – the kind that he has a perfectly understandable answer to.
"I'm here to make sure Bloody doesn't jump up and start looking for you as soon as he regains consciousness. I know damn well that he will try, despite his condition," Bec explains, trying and failing to maintain eye contact with Victor. "And no one wants that."
"Considerate."
The modulator does nothing to mask the venom in the infuriatingly succinct response, and 2810 feels himself twitch at the wave of some kind of bitter and ugly emotion that tries to rise up to it, intense enough to make him close his eyes and take a moment to breathe.
Now's not the time to bicker over this. Not now, not ever. He has more of a right to be upset than me. Let him. I'll need to deal with Bloody later as it is.
"Why are you here?" he pivots instead, repeating his initial question as soon as the irritation subsides enough for him to speak without it seeping into his voice.
Victor seems to freeze up for a second. He stares at Bec; then at Bloody's lanky frame; then seems to just glare out of the window. There's barely any body language to note, but 28 still feels his gut twist in knots.
"Nothing now," he finally answers, before turning around and grabbing the door handle. "Going to sleep. Your first watch today," he adds, tone almost mechanically mundane, before leaving. And with another creak of the hinges, he's gone.
Bec waits ten, twenty, thirty seconds, hearing him ascend the stairs and go to his room. Finally, when the house once again falls into silence, he exhales and rubs his temples, fighting against his body's refusal to relax.
He needs to rest now, before the sun rises proper, and the inevitable troubles catch up with him.
God, it's going to be a long day.
***
"Fffffuuuuuuuuccccckkkk…"
A raspy groan in the corner of the room drags 2810 out of his frankly awful sleep, its effectiveness enhanced tenfold by the surge of anxiety it elicits from him. His feet try to launch him out of the armchair, but he steadies himself, getting up as calmly as he can.
"Bloody?"
"Ugh…"
Bloody cracks one eye open, gaze finding Bec's face almost immediately. His features are stiff, pain accentuating the sharp edges, but a smirk still finds its way onto his face, joyless and bitter.
"Come to gloat about how you were right, 28?"
The number is not unexpected but still grating.
"You know I ditched the codes a long time ago," he reminds, turning away to pull up a chair from a small desk near the bed. "As did many people - you included, at least in part."
Bloody responds with only an unimpressed stare. Bec sighs and sits down, using the quiet moment to steady his nerves.
"And they don't mean anything at all now."
Bloody twists his lips at the reminder and turns away from the window:
"Still haven't answered my question, Bec. Or, what, do you think I don't know your game by now, Mr. Peacemaker?"
Bec grits his teeth. God, I hate when he gets like this.
Okay, no, that's not necessary right now. He needs to be the voice of reason.
"No, I'm not here to gloat. I'm here to…"
Now that's a good question. What is he trying to achieve here? Neither Victor not Bloody are happy with his yet unspoken but obvious insistence not to fight, but he still has to somehow prevent them from doing that.
Victor doesn't seem to be actively planning on murder, at least.
"It hurts. I know how."
Bec grits his teeth at the memory and focuses his gaze on Bloody, who's visibly growing more impatient by the second.
"I'm here to make sure there won't be any more unnecessary deaths — not while I'm around."
Bloody barks out a laugh, immediately grimacing in pain but keeping up the mockery in his tone:
"Unnecessary, eh? Maybe to you, but-"
"Not to me, not to anyone," Bec cuts in sharply. "You included."
The grimace on the face across from him turns to a scowl.
"And since when did I give you permission to decide for me, huh?"
"Since you got yourself messed up beyond belief," Bec points out, gripping the bridge of his nose. "I know getting shot isn't fun, but what the hell possessed you to stitch up the bullet wounds? The kits have a bunch of gauze specifically for this purpose! Not to mention — why did you even go up into the mountains in the first place? What was the plan there?"
Bloody groans in frustration and rolls his eyes, not letting him finish.
"Right, fuck, quit mothering me, will you?"
Bec opens his mouth to continue chastising him but ends up just silently closing it, caught off-guard by the jab.
There's a moment of silence between them, before Bloody changes the topic:
"You look right messed up as well, by the way. What happened?"
Bec reflexively puts a hand up to the bandages on his face and purses his lips.
"Dropship crashed. Not even sure it was an accident, but it doesn't really matter now."
"Damn shame," Bloody mutters, stare fixated and distracted. After a second, though, the bitternness returns to his eyes.
"Anyway. If you're here to ask me to "please not kill Sixty", you're outta luck," he says, almost off-handedly for the finality of his words.
Bec bites his lip.
This is going to be difficult.
"No, I'm not here to ask you," he sighs, and Bloody raises his brows in doubt.
"I'm here to tell you that you're not going to kill him."
Bloody scoffs.
"And why the hell would that be?"
Bec swallows and stares down at him, grim and desolate.
I have to do this.
"Because you owe me."
There's a beat of stuffed silence. Bloody's eyes dart around, searching Bec's face for any kind of proof that he didn't just hear that. Finally, he croaks out:
"You… You're serious, huh? That's how you cash that in? For a guy you barely even know?"
"Yes."
"…You really have changed your ways, then."
He doesn't sound pissed now — just downright disappointed. Bec isn't sure which one's worse.
"There's more to it," he objects. "I'm just making things fair."
"Oh, am I supposed to believe the bastard finally figured out how idiotic his spur of consciousness over some random rebel was?"
"That-"
Bec pauses, realization washing over him.
He doesn't know she wasn't just a stranger.
Of course he doesn't, why the hell would he? It's not like Airwatch would have told him "we're sending you and your new partner to kill his loved one, by the way". And Victor most definitely wouldn't have.
Does it fall to him to break the news, then?
No. Let Victor decide if he wants to tell him.
"I don't know. But I do know he won't try and kill you — unless you try to kill him first, anyway."
Bloody eyes him with suspicion for a moment.
"Am I supposed to believe that? You're way too trusting, 28."
"It's not about what he told me. Think about it — if he did want you dead on the spot, he would have taken the opportunity back when you stumbled out of the forest barely on your feet," Bec offers, trying to convince himself almost as much as he's trying to convince Bloody.
For all he knows, it might not even be a fair assessment of what Victor thinks; hell, maybe he was planning to kill Bloody, back when he was unconscious and somewhat isolated, and Bec just got in the way…
For all his doubt, however, the argument seems to be compelling enough. Bloody sighs, staring straight ahead of himself again.
Both of them say nothing for a few minutes, until Bec gets his pyrrhic victory.
"Fine. I'll leave him be for now."
"For now? Until what happens?" Bec asks, anxiety welling up again at the prospect of another phase of the argument. But Bloody just shrugs — as much as his current disposition allows him anyway.
"You said "not while I'm around". Who knows, maybe you end up going your way, and I mine. And if that happens, our agreement won't mean much anyway. So I'll kill him then."
Once again, there's that unhealthy flame in the icy blue of his eyes that makes Bec's stomach churn.
"But not before that," he says quietly, barely managing to keep the fear and hope out of his voice.
"But not before that," Bloody agrees, seemingly placated.
Alright. Finally.
"I'll go get us some food," Bec sighs. He gets up and turns to the door — just in time for a very persistent knock to come from the other side.
"Bec? Are you there?"
"Yeah?"
He opens the door to see Cole. He's disheveled, like he just got out of bed, and visibly agitated.
"You've gotta go outside," he blurts out, out of breath. With a sharp inhale, he starts elaborating, not giving Bec even a chance to respond.
"Someone came here, I think maybe the owners of this place? They said they're from a town north of here, and I think some of them are locals, but Nevena went up into the woods to look for something useful, and they're suspicious and think we're with the Combine and are demanding to see everybody we have here-"
"Hey, hey, hey," Bec finally interjects, placing his hands on Cole's shoulders to hopefully ground him. "You go wake up Victor, I'll go out there and talk to them. It'll be fine, alright? No one will get hurt."
Cole nods a few times, the tension in his round, boyish face subsiding, if just a little bit.
"Okay. I'll do that. And?-" he peeks behind Bec's shoulder to check on bloody and frowns again, this time more in contempt rather than anxiety.
"He's in no condition to be upright. Leave him be and go get Victor, okay?"
"Yeah." Cole nods and bolts for the stairs, while Bec turns to glare back at Bloody, who has already propped himself up on his elbows.
"And you stay where you are. I'll handle this."
The response is frustratingly predictable.
"Like hell I will — what if those bastards are-?"
"If they have any bad intentions, then you'll just get yourself killed. Stay."
That seems to compel Bloody.
"Whatever," he grumbles out, but lays back down, wincing at the movement.
Bec sighs in relief:
"Thank you," and heads for the front door.
A-Twenty-one and Noelle are already outside, standing in front of a group of four.
"…supposed to believe that? City-17?" a woman asks, her speech accentuated with a heavy accent.
"Why the hell would we lie about that!?" Noelle exclaims in exasperation. "There's an uprising happening there right now — people are fleeing, lots of them!"
"And yet we haven't seen anyone else around?" a young man retorts, the burn scar covering his chin and jaw stretching out along with his incredulous smirk.
"City-17 has several entrances. Some people went south, some west, some east," A-Twenty one points out. "I really don't understand why you're all so suspicious! We just took a stop here to recuperate and help our injured, why is that a problem?"
"That's not the problem. Combine is the problem — them and their methods. They get us to trust you, then get information about us from you, then enslave us as well!" The girl on the left points at her, growing more and more agitated as she throws out accusations. "You say you defected, but we have no reason to believe that!"
"Alright, everybody settle down," Bec calls out, stepping down from the porch. "I'm Bec, and I'm one of the tr… people who were under Combine. Noelle and Cole — the boy is inside right now — are civilians. There's also Nevena, a local woman, she went out to forage a little while ago."
He turns to the only member that has stayed silent so far. He looks to be well up in years, thin grey hair combed back and a permanent frown etched into his dry, wrinkled face.
Hopefully I'm right that he's not one of the relocated people.
"Maybe she'll convince you we're not here to cause any trouble."
"I'll believe she believes you're fine. But even she can't know for sure," he shoots back, eyes sullen and distrustful. The words do little to ease Bec's nerves, but the unmistakable accent offers him a bit of hope still.
"Look, I get it, but even cops get shot on sight if they're caught helping people escape!" Bec offers, gesturing back at Noelle as he takes a few steps towards the group. "Besides, the Combine doesn't send people far out from City-17, and-"
"Stay where you are," the man cuts in, supplying his demand with a pistol pointed at Bec's head.
"Alright, I'm staying," he immediately complies, slowly raising his hands just enough to show off the lack of holsters or weapons. "We don't want any trouble with you, believe me."
The woman who was arguing with Noelle opens her mouth, but looks past Bec and points at the front door.
"Пази се!"
Bec turns his head around just enough to see Victor standing on the porch, rifle trained on the old man.
"Put the gun down," he demands, blunt and evidently indifferent to how his actions are perceived.
"Shit! So we were right!" the younger man shouts, drawing his own gun.
Bec tries and fails to come up with something to calm everybody down.
Goddammit.
"Victor, quit it, we were just talking!" he beckons over his shoulder.
"I noticed."
Unsurprising but equally unhelpful, Victor doesn't move an inch.
"You say you're no longer Combine, but then why the hell is this guy wearing that fucking mask?!" the girl screams out, looking nearly hysterical now.
"He's- it's-" Bec stumbles, feeling the panic rise up to his throat.
I fucked up I fucked up bad how do I fix this I need to fix this-
"Каково по дьяволите правите тук, а?"
A small figure exits the woods, parting the bushes in front of her with a tree branch taller than herself fashioned into a walking stick.
"Nevena!" Noelle calls out in relief.
The old man checks both his younger companion and Victor before cautiously turning his head to look at the new arrival, who is grumbling angrily to herself:
"Не мога да те оставя сама дори за миг..."
As soon as the two make eye contact, however, his face drops, and he lowers the gun completely.
"Ивка... Ти?"
She looks him up and down, seemingly taken aback as well, and calls back:
"Чавдар, ти мръсник. Разбира се, ти оцеля."
"Some English, please?" sounds from the house. Bec turns around to see Bloody leaning out of the window next to the entrance.
"Goddammit, Bloody, I told you to stay where you were-"
"Alright, alright, everybody inside," Nevena urges, completely unfazed by the still hanging tension. "And put the guns away already — така да, като малки деца," she adds, shaking her head as she walks towards the house.
Amazingly, everyone follows her demand without question, and Bec can't help but let out a long, shaky breath.
Okay. We'll be okay.