Chapter Text
So, this is it. This is your life now. At least for the foreseeable future, and knowing Talon’s reputation, that future could be very very short depending on how you played your cards. It was a thought that was hard for you to not dwell on as you sat looking out over the cityscape from a Talon base. It felt so close, yet so far out of reach. You weren’t a prisoner, not in title anyway, but you also weren’t welcome to take your leave whenever you wanted, or, at all, really; not without mortal consequences at a minimum.
Your chest rises and falls with a sigh as you mentally retrace your steps to how exactly you got here. Hubris, mostly, looking back on it. Could you crack your way into Talon’s database? Sure. Did you? Yes. Did you think you’d instantly be caught and traced by their security? No. But regardless, that’s how it happened. It felt so stupid in hindsight, but doesn’t it always. The only saving grace granted to you was that someone, somewhere, also thought it was slightly impressive that you managed to do it on your own, and such skills shouldn’t be put to waste or snuffed out just because you got the better of them. So now those same skills are going to be put to work for the exact organization you were originally against, and you were given very little say in the matter. Many people think they’d be willing to lay down their life for a cause until the decision is staring them in the face and then, all of the sudden, morals start feeling very… flexible.
The hinges of a door creak from behind you, piercing the white noise produced by the city and ripping you from your thoughts. The railing in front of you bears your weight as you use it to hoist yourself up to your feet and you swivel around to face whoever decided to ruin your peaceful moment of shaming past-you into oblivion again. There were a lot of new faces in the base often, operatives coming and going, some coming in, never to leave again, or be seen again for that matter. In the short time you’ve been here, you’ve already caught on that this wasn’t a place for friends. “Friends” can snitch on you. Or be ripped away from you too easily. But something about this stranger softens you a little. He looks tired. No, not tired. To the bone exhausted and just as surprised to see you as you are him.
"Oh… I didn’t mean to startle you," he says, voice low but soft. "My mistake, I didn’t think anyone would be out here." He tilts his head slightly toward the moon before glancing back at you, finding a spot on the railing that’s a little less than a comfortable distance away. As he does, his face is easier to make out with the moonlight shining on him. He’s… handsome. And tall. And someone you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about like that in a place like this. And then your eyes go lower, tracing over his strong figure that's intermittently interjected with wires? Circuity? The details are hard to make out in this lighting, to pick apart the pieces of him, but once again, your curiosity comes to bite you in the ass and you realize you’re staring. He must realize too as he turns away from you, looking back up at the full moon that hangs indifferently above the two of you in the night.
“Not much of a talker I guess.” he mumbles mostly to himself, and you shake the thoughts from your head before you rouse yourself to speak.
“No, I do talk! I- Sorry, I was just caught off guard is all.”
He doesn’t seem to pay any mind to your response, the fleeting warmth in his initial words now almost completely depleted. The only form of acknowledgement that he even heard you is his next inquiry.
"You’re new. Shouldn’t you be inside?" He pauses and in the dead of the night you swear you can almost hear a mechanical whir softly hum beneath his ribs. It’s barely imperceptible, as if something deeper inside him is listening too.
"...But then again,” he adds with a chuckle, “so should I." He scans you again with a pair of striking eyes, but there’s no distrust behind the action, it doesn’t feel like he’s assessing a threat, not exactly, more like wondering about you.
“Worth asking though, what are you doing out here?"
You gesture to the view in front of you and give him an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, am I not supposed to be out here? I just wanted some air, I guess.” He seems harmless, but sometimes the most dangerous people come in the most subtle colors. You subconsciously shuffle a few steps to the side to create a little more distance between you and him. He lets out a quiet huff of amusement, his shoulders relaxing just slightly.
"Don't apologize" he murmurs, "this is better company than most people here anyway." You catch his fingers twitch, almost like he wants to gesture toward the night before you both, but he folds his arms instead, and his eyes flick to the space you created with your steps.
"...But if you keep backing up, you’re gonna trip over your own shadow. Talon doesn’t issue hazard pay, you know." There’s a ghost of humor in his voice as he looks back to your face with a tilt of his head.
There’s a pang of guilt in your chest when he calls out the space so gently. “Yeah, I reckon that’s right” you agree. “Guess I should do myself a favor and protect myself from my big scary shadow, huh?” You sit back down on the floor, leaning slightly against the support of the railing and you bring your knees to your chest before looking back up, first at the stars, then back to him.
He leans against the same rail with a quiet rustle of fabric as he looks down at you for a beat, then shakes his head in bemusement. "You don't seem like a Talon type... no offense."
You can’t help but laugh at his response in good humor, sad or not, it was true. “Ha! Yeah, I know. I’m fine with that though.” You reply, not making any attempt to hide your own amusement, probably cementing his opinion of you in his head but as you continue, you glance down at your knees and feel yourself scowl slightly “So, none taken. Actually, I think I’d be more offended if you thought I was the Talon type… uh… no offense either.”
The man lets out a snort at your response, the laugh sounding almost out of practice as it leaves him. "Fair point," is all he replies with as he casts a sidelong glance at you and you can almost hear the mental notes he’s writing about you in his head.
"So," he drawls, a hint of skepticism in his voice, "You ended up here... how, exactly?"
And you were right back to the train of thought you were in when he first came out. “Ah. That’s a funny story.” you start. It’s not a funny story. “Wasn’t really up to me I guess. Well, it was, I had a choice…” The floor below you has never looked so interesting before as you refuse to make eye contact through your answer. “Got myself in a tough spot and it sort of became a “Talon or nothing” situation I guess…” You trail off as you now look up at the sky, avoiding his gaze on the way up, before adding “like. Death, nothing, you know?” and an almost pained scoff escapes you on the last syllable. “Not sure if I made the right decision yet” You scrape up the courage to look back at him and try to give him a soft smile to lessen the impact of what you just dropped on him. The silence stretches for a moment longer before he lets out a measured exhale, letting his eyes fall closed.
"...Yeah. Been there," he mumbles, staring straight ahead, now avoiding your eyes that are locked on him. Then begrudgingly, "Wrong or right, you’re still breathing. That counts for something." His fingers tap against the railing and you rack your brain to think of an appropriate response but he speaks first again. "Just don’t let Talon convince you it was their mercy that kept you alive." The words are laced with something, something bitter, or hurt, or both. "You chose. That’s yours. Not theirs." After a beat he glances down at you again, brow furrowed.
“Yeah?” you ask half heartedly, not pushing him for more per se but in acknowledgement and recognition of his sudden demeanor shift. “Thank you for the wise words, I’ll try to remember that.” Then your mouth moves before your brain does, trying to lighten the heavy mood. You shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help but laugh just a bit as you speak your quip, wrong or not. “I like you, did you get that from a self-help book?”
The comment seems to catch him off guard, and his furrow deepens. He gives you a puzzled look, tilting his head again. There's an undercurrent in his voice, more weary than amused. "You shouldn’t go around saying things like that here, most people won’t find it funny. You know I could just be trying to gain your trust to use you, right?"
And with that sobering response, your mood drops slightly, but you try to power through by doubling down. “Well… maybe I’m just a really fast judge of character” you say, a proud look on your face while you cross your arms over your knees and chest before deflating slighting as you amend your previous statement with “…or bad.” You go quiet for a moment, this wasn’t landing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.” You look back up at him “and for the record if you’re just doing this to gain my trust… that would make you the bad person here. And I wouldn’t like you.” You can’t help yourself with the last bit, one for the road.
It’s faint, there for just a moment and then gone, but you see the amusement that flickers across his face. He opens his mouth to reply, then stops, seeming to bite something back and he averts his eyes from you again as the corners of his lips twitch. You actually got him with that and you give yourself a mental pat on the back.
He seems to take a moment to regain himself and he rolls his eyes at you, but the gesture lacks any real irritation, more like he's humored but too stubborn to give you the satisfaction of admitting it. He doesn’t let it show through his intonation as he reiterates his previous warning.
"You've got a bad habit of saying things you should keep to yourself. I mean that."
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know” You respond lightheartedly. “I wish more people did, honestly. But only if it’s nice stuff, if people have bad opinions of me, they should keep them to themselves, kind of like what you’re doing right now.” You say jokingly, completely aware of how silly and vapid your statement sounds. You throw out the last bit almost proddingly too, fishing for a response from him and his scowl is replaced by a look of mock offense.
"You think I'm holding back my opinion of you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. He pushes away from the railing, folding his arms, his exposed biceps naturally flex as he does and he fixes you with a look.
"You know what I think of you? I think you need to take this more seriously. I think you're far too trusting. Naive, even."
As he speaks, you sit up at attention, legs falling from your chest and now crossed as you straighten out, like a student looking up at their teacher, studying his features while he doles out his honest opinion of you. You nod along until he’s done and give him a pensive look for a moment before retorting. “Hm, that’s not as bad as I thought it would be. You think I should be more like you then? Walk around all brooding and frowny?”
He studies you right back, watching as you position yourself to better face him.
"Definitely not. You in brooding and frowny would just look ridiculous.” He lets out another huff of amusement and shakes his head as if he’s picturing it in his head. You put your hands up in front of you in response, mimicking a placating gesture. “Oh sorry, I wasn’t trying to infringe on your patented look. Though, it’s a pretty common one around here.” You make a mocking frown for a moment and drop your hands onto your knees before returning to a more neutral expression and he takes the moment to once again remind you of your situation.
“…Although, a bit more skepticism wouldn't hurt you. You're a Talon captive, whether they’re willing to tell you that or not. You shouldn't be this…” he seems to search for the right word for a second “...chirpy." You now quirk an eyebrow back at him, almost as if he’s the naive one for saying something so obvious.
“Well, that’s kind of the whole point, isn’t it? Like you said, me and my happiness isn’t Talon’s, it’s mine. If I let them take that from me… what’s left?” You begin to slouch, feeling the weight of both his and your own words weigh on your heart and head. “Though, it’s only been a little bit. Give it a few months and I’m sure I’ll be able to go a whole conversation without laughing. If… I last that long.” You maintain the humor as you say it, but he doesn’t. Moments after the words leave your mouth, he crouches down in front of you, his elbows resting on his knees, catching you off guard. He’s just above eye level, leaning in and holding your stare, enough to make your heart thump just a modicum faster.
"Don’t." His voice is firm, all amusement evaporated from it. "Don’t joke about that."
His jaw visibly tightens before he continues, quieter now, but just as unyielding and serious. "You last. You keep lasting. Because no matter how bad it gets... Talon doesn’t get to decide when you stop laughing." Despite the severity and truth to his words, you can feel the heat creep across your cheeks from the closeness, the care in his tone, only worsening when he reaches out and taps your knee once, sharply, but you can feel the hair of hesitation behind it.
"...Even if you do sound ridiculous doing it."
It sounds like he’s speaking from experience. Your eyes fall to where his finger taps your knee and a repentant look takes hold of your face, quickly looking off to the side to hopefully obscure any indication that may have betrayed your flustered state. After all, he is right, you really shouldn’t be trusting him or anyone this easily.
So you break the pseudointimate moment. “Very poetic. If you ever want to quit this whole Talon thing, you could become a writer. Just saying” You say genuinely before more seriously saying “Thank you. Really.”
With that, his finger moves away from you as if caught doing something he shouldn't, and he rises smoothly back to his full height.
You feel your chest and posture flatten a little. Despite knowing better, you can’t help but be a little disappointed that he pulled away. You go to rise as well, feeling a little awkward in this position now. Without thinking, you put out your hand to request assistance in standing. He gives you a sharp look, eyebrow raised, and it’s difficult to tell if it’s due to the gesture or your previous comment, but he doesn't hesitate to reach out and take it anyway, wrapping his fingers around yours in a firm grip. With a single smooth movement, he pulls you to your feet while echoing you.
"A writer…" the beginnings of a disbelieving laugh escaping him. He shakes his head again, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You really do say the most ridiculous things."
You wipe away any dirt or dust from the seat of your pants before once again giving him a little space, or was it for your sake?
“Just speaking what’s on my mind. You were pretty good at it when you tried earlier, isn’t it freeing?” You retort to him.
"Freeing, maybe... but also incredibly stupid here," he replies, the words coming out almost more absently now as his gaze flicks over you for a moment, watching you dust yourself off. "...and lacking in self-preservation instincts." He concludes bluntly.
A shrug naturally tugs at your shoulders. “If that makes me stupid, I’d rather be stupid and free than… the alternative, I guess.” and you look up at the sky once more, feeling that you’ve taken enough of his time already.
"It's a dangerous combination” he says dryly, leaning back against the adjacent wall now. He follows your gaze upward, and you can see him studying the stars out the corner of your vision for a moment before he looks back down to you. You chuckle slightly at his riposte.
“You know… Talon wouldn’t have kept me alive or wanted me if I were just some random idiot, right? Not really their style”
"No… they wouldn't." He concedes, quieter this time before quickly moving on. "...Going to bed? You should, it's late."
The seriousness of your last sentence had already dissipated again. “I was thinking about it. After all, I doubt you came out here looking for a conversation partner.”
"You’re right, I came out here to be alone.”
“Hey, same, and then you intruded on me” you correct him lightheartedly “buuuuut…” you draw out. “I’ll leave you to it”. Before you turn to leave, you realize you don’t even know his name. He didn’t ask for yours, you didn’t ask for his. You rectify this before you take your leave, giving it with a “By the way” and he returns the favor as you begin to depart.
“Emre. Go, get some sleep, you’ll need it”
Maybe it was a mistake, to get a name, to have any kind of attachment to anyone, but at this moment as you walk away, it was hard to care.