Chapter Text
"Glad you got it out, AJ."
AJ? Alex sat up groggily, feeling like someone took a cheese grater to his stomach lining. Bride was sitting next to him, knocking back a bottle of champagne with her nose wrinkled at the smell.
"This stuff still tastes like shit, but I bet it'll be better than vomit." She rattled it to tempt him, the evening breeze trying to knock her hair from its usual stature. She had quite a few strands out of place, her lightning bolts askew, so she'd have to be pounding liquor nonstop to be drunk. "Come on. Apparently we circus animals have to stick around until midnight, and our carriage hasn't turned into a pumpkin yet."
He blinked, moving from his prone position and hearing fabric rustle. There's a blazer draped over him like a blanket, clinging to his shoulders as he grabbed the champagne. "How long was I out?"
"Three or four hours. We were supposed to mingle until we left to get one last screwup out of us, but since a certain Alexander James Sartorius disappeared off to the roof, G.I. and I have been going out in shifts to make sure the guards don't gut the building trying to find you."
He swallowed the champagne, sticking his tongue out at the feeling of it coating his sore throat. "Sorry."
"You must really be in rough shape to say that."
He laughed, echoing like a death rattle that shook his ribs. His chest cavity hasn't been this clear in weeks, his lungs so empty it stung like too-cold air. "I'll be fine."
"You sure? You practically puked up a tree." Bride lifted her skirt to adjust the tights on one leg, smoothing it over prickly stitches. "I didn't like dragging that thing to chuck off the roof, by the way. Your blood's all gummy."
"I'll bring it up with my GP next visit." He stood, feeling a pulse in his temple as spots clouded his vision and drifted off. "I guess that's it, then."
"You didn't die."
"I didn't die." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the state of his clothes. He must've burned off his shirt with the stress, although someone was kind enough to fetch and dress him in his vest with. It still shows off a lot of his skin, but if he rebuttons the suit jacket…
His fingers brushed more flower petals, and he tensed instinctively. He pulled the flower out of the breast pocket, carefully preserved underneath G.I.'s service ribbons. A green carnation, along with his cufflinks from his old shirt. The symbol for radiation next to something so beautiful made his stomach twist.
"He deserves better than me."
"AJ, you're both mass murderers incarcerated for life. I think you should take what you can get."
"Stop calling me AJ."
"Stop trying to talk yourself out of being alive. You got so up your own ass about being gay—"
"—not gay—"
"—bi that you nearly croaked. Now you haven't croaked, so you might as well keep going, right?" She popped her back as she rose. For a moment, it looked like she was going for a hug, but then Alex realized she was just taking the booze back and passed it off. "You love killing people. Stay with the Commandos and melt some bodies."
"Hm."
"I don't think your dead wife would approve of you taking a swan dive to meet her either."
"Well, aren't you sensitive to my plight," he sniped with a chin waggle, dripping with sarcasm.
"Yeah, I am sensitive. So I'm not bringing up how ridiculous it was to decide you'd rather die than say you want to—hm." Bride paused, grasping her chin in thought. "How would you shag him? I don't think you two have—"
"Okay thank you Bride I'm going now." Alex ducked away and opened the roof door, taking the steps two at a time. He kept running his hands down his sides to smooth out his clothes, tugging at the cuffs to the jacket. He's alive, and he could begrudgingly admit that Bride had a point. He wanted to have a relationship with the Commandos, truthfully, but as soon as someone reciprocated, he fled. It's embarrassing now.
He always thought Bride hated him and only kept up conversation to look good, but she went out of her way to comfort him multiple times and told G.I. what was going on so he could help him. She approached him with understanding, on equal footing, like a friend. Isn't that exactly what he wanted from her?
Weasel's never been the sharpest, and his communication skills are limited, but he clearly has a big enough heart to want to be by his side when he's hurting. Alex felt awful about treating him like a pest when he was ready to stay by him until the end.
And G.I. Alex paused at the door out of the stairwell, one hand on the door handle as he felt his heartbeat crank into double time. He thought his affection for him would be one-sided, purely because no one else would like him. He hated the thought of confessing his feelings, for it to just be a farce, some desperate plea from a lonely man with no other options who confused being safe around a robot for loving one. But even now, when he knows the others in their little group care about him, that G.I. isn't his only option…
He loves him, and G.I. loves him back, he's sure of it. Alex walked as fast as he could down the hallway, not wanting to run and look desperate, but still needing to see him. He saw the guards at the doorway of one of the ballrooms, waving as he pushed through them. They didn't look happy to see him after so clearly ditching the majority of the event. Ah, well. If they found him so intolerable, they could just try to shoot him. It wouldn't work.
Alex missed dinner, so they seemed to be back to milling about. He noticed a lot less people there than before, so the non-prisoners most likely had free reign of when they could leave. Skipping out on the part where he has to listen to politicians who have never struggled in their life talk about their accomplishments into a microphone was a huge plus to the whole almost dying thing. He tilted his head, standing on his toes to look for one person in the crowd. He can see one spot near a table with flowers where no one dared stand.
"Excuse me, sorry, nice to meet you," Alex muttered, pushing past people who immediately hopped back once they felt his heat. And after he put such effort into his pleasantries! He stopped when he found the large bubble of empty space, almost no one else occupying it. The reason for said bubble was G.I., his back to him as he spoke to someone who looked too scared to leave. The person looked at Alex, eyes bugging, and immediately scrambled off in the middle of G.I. speaking. The robot clicked his mouth shut, turning to see who caused the fuss.
G.I.'s design was always elegant enough to speak for himself. The shell like honeyed glaze, the ruby lenses that acted as gateways to unspeakable intelligence, the face that was so simple, but held a warmth for those he saw as allies. He never stopped being a killing machine, and he never hid that fact, but it didn't overshadow the kindness in his voice. In his smile.
He's smiling at Alex. He would be underdressed in his olive suspenders, his tie too loose on his neck and the collar sticking up, but he's fully dressed with just that smile. He doesn't need the jacket that Alex wore to look perfect.
But Alex still wanted to return the favor. So many people took care of him tonight, and he had the itch to reciprocate. So, he stepped forward, resting his hands on his shoulders. "Hey, G.I."
"Alex." How did Alex ever convince himself G.I. was emotionless? There was an obvious depth there now, something it took experience to hear, but that was affection. The idea of not loving him was ridiculous. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine now." Alex smoothed out his collar, then tugged on the tie and unravelled it with practice. Touch that didn't make him choke was addictive. "You?"
"I'm feeling well. I am aware that I have much to learn, but that's exciting to me. I never thought I'd love someone."
"Well, I never thought I'd love again, so." Alex finished tying the complicated knot, making sure the false petals properly bloomed at the center of his neck. "So, in flower language, what is a green rose?"
G.I. fluttered his lenses, tilting his head as he thought about it. "Technically, they were not seen as an important distinction of flower in the Victorian era, when flower language was popularized. After this point in time, it gained the definition of spiritual rejuvenation and stability. it's often used as a gift for someone starting a new chapter of their life, such as at a wedding or after the birth of a child."
"Then I'd say that certainly works for your tie. And, um." Alex plucked the flower from his own lapel, holding it with a gentle spin between his fingers. "I know you were trying to tell me what this one is, and I do want to know."
"Green carnations. They were used a symbol of love between men. The exact reason behind it being chosen is unknown, except that it was popularized by a man who went to trial in the late 1800s for homosexuality, known as Oscar Wilde. He held the belief that nature imitates art, and that what we see as beautiful is affected by what art tells us is beautiful. That is why many green flowers, although they can occur in nature, are seen as unnatural in their meanings. So, while the green carnation originated as an unnatural flower symbolizing an unnatural love, both of these things are natural because humans made them and humans are nature."
"That's lovely, G.I. I love it." Alex reached for the vase on the table next to them, pulling out a second green carnation. He tucked one of them back into his lapel, and then the other he stretched to fit into the strip of fabric around G.I.'s hat. "And we match now."
G.I.'s twist in his mandible got goofier by the second, his face radiating a joy he's never shown. "I know that I'm not human, but—"
"I'm not human either, not anymore. But, we were both made by humans, and as you just said, that makes us nature, right?" Alex carefully rolled up G.I.'s sleeves, stopping them at the elbow and pulling out his cufflinks. "I'll keep the jacket, but I do think you'll look better with these."
"I believe people will be confused by you wearing ribbons of service when you have never been in the army."
"I kind of lost my shirt, so I need it to be fully dressed. Besides, maybe it'll be fun for them to freak out that you have hazard symbols on your arms." Alex pressed the cufflinks in, feeling floaty as he brushed up against G.I.'s forearms. "And now we have something from each other."
"I like that idea."
"I do too." Alex offered his arm. "You want to mingle so they don't cut the Commandos program?"
"I do not want to be pessimistic, but I doubt our appearances here have done anything to sway the opinion of these people."
"Yeah, that's kind of how politics works. They pretend to care to your face, but nothing you say will change their mind. But sulking on the rooftop hasn't helped us either, so we should at least try, right?"
G.I. nodded, but instead of linking their arms, he placed his hand on Alex's shoulder where the rest of it would be pressing into his back. Alex took that as a sign to move closer, tracing his fingers until they gripped the robot's waist. Well, he's a bit thin there, more than the shirt let on, so he drifted farther to what would be the hip bone. G.I. let out a pleased hum. He didn't know he could do things like hums to show emotion where his voice and face struggled. Alex had to keep that in mind, find every little way the robot could be happy where a human couldn't.
And when he turned to a person he'd never seen before, ready to greet them with a polite shake of his free hand, he was quick to gesture to the man beside him. "This is G.I. Robot, my partner." He couldn't help it, saying it over and over and practically parading G.I. through the ballroom. It's been so long since he had a partner, and it felt so good to have one he knew understood him. Someone who didn't insist on seeing how he could be if he was a better person, and instead met him exactly where he was and loved him for it. It's a balm on the wound of knowing he's never escaping his punishment, that no amount of good behavior or claiming to regret his actions would change that he killed people and liked it. He couldn't imagine G.I. imploring him to do the righteous thing in their current circumstances. He'd want to do what works.
And that wasn't what Parvin did for him, but that's a relationship that's been done for a long time. He doesn't need that anymore. He needs this. He leaned into G.I., turning with him and waving as Bride and Weasel rejoined the crowd just in time, the four-legged monster bounding forward with his tongue lolling. Long paws slammed into his chest, threatening to tip Alex over—
Until strong hands caught him from behind and held him up, G.I. watching him closely for a sign of distress. Alex laughed, squeezing the robot while his free hand rustled the fur on Weasel's head. He glanced to Bride, whose stitched lips turned up in a knowing smile. Oh, he was sure his wife would've hated this, seeing what he's become in her absence. He's a monster, surrounded by creatures just as bad as him.
But he loves living like this, and never wants it to end.