Chapter Text
After Epsilon shatters in Tucker’s head, Tucker doesn’t wake up for two weeks.
It might be the worst two weeks of Wash’s life.
When they landed, when they turned the corner to find all their friends alive, Wash had thought they’d been lucky for once. That he’d been lucky for once. For a glorious five seconds he saw his family stand strong and tall in the wreckage of those who tried to kill them. He thought they were safe.
Then Tucker let out a pale broken sound. Collapsed to his knees. And when Epsilon didn’t float out of the armor when Carolina asked for a status check, Wash knew what had happened at once.
It’s been years since Epsilon tried to kill himself in Wash’s head. Enough years to maybe forgive him. But looking at Tucker lying there on hospital sheets, damaged in ways none of them can fix, Wash is sure he will never forgive Epsilon for this. Even if Epsilon had no idea he’d settled in Tucker’s head instead of just his suit.
He told Carolina that. Point blank. It’s the reason he now has a split lip and a black eye.
Wash sighs and leans forward. Usually he’s not here during this time, the position of “Tucker Watch” occupied by Simmons. The cyborg couldn’t sit with Tucker today, like the rest of them he is busy with the new A.Is Epsilon left behind, trying to decide who can go with who while they sort out the whole process. Wash, long decided on his thoughts on A.I’s, was more than content to take his place.
That was an hour ago.
“Junior will be here in a week,” Wash says. There’s no response. “Now would be a great time to wake up; we still need a translator.” Still nothing. Wash leans his head forward against the bed rail. “Come’on Tucker, please.”
The world isn’t like the movies. Tucker doesn’t rouse at that. But within an hour, Wash is lucky enough to be there when Tucker opens his eyes.
“Wash?” Tucker says and Wash’s head shoots up. He calls for a nurse, screams for one really, and crouches over Tucker’s bed. Lets himself smile.
“Holy shit,” he whispers. “Tucker, I thought I lost you.” The realization that he used “I” instead of “we” won’t hit him for an hour later. Tucker shakes his head.
“Lost are you-” he winces, reaching for his head. Shuts his eyes tight. Mutters for a second.
“Tucker?” Wash says. He can hear Grey run into the room behind them, sprinting with all she has. “Are you okay?”
Tucker opens his eyes again. Smiles. “No, fine. Just a headache.”
Over Tucker’s right shoulder, a flicker of flame begins to dance.