Chapter Text
The Drifter, despite their consistent resting bitch face and general ‘spooky’ aura, had brought a unique kind of joy to the mall during that 'first' paradoxical year they spent among the Hex, a joy which was somehow absent in all regards that morning.
They didn’t do their usual trek through the mall, making sure to visit every corner to say hello. They just quietly padded their way from the backroom, to the food court, giving a small, almost dismissive wave to anyone they stepped past. They looked. Not good. Like they hadn’t slept possibly in days, but were trying to pass themself off as being put together. Burnt out to hell but putting on a brave face, hoping that if they didn’t say anything, no one would notice.
Instead, everyone did, eventually.
They were back and forth from their little apartment behind the clothing store to Lettie’s coffee setup in the food court three times before 10 am; Lettie almost thought it was Amir and set herself up to spook him from around the corner and scold him for not refilling the pot or putting the sugar away for a third time, before realizing that what was zipping away at speed wasn't a trail of lightning sparks, but that creepy, whispering pop of void energy that followed in the Drifter's wake when they wanted to get somewhere as fast as possible.
Usually they had a morning chat with Eleanor about this or that, as soon as the two night owls woke up, but this morning, nothing at all– They were eerily silent to her, like an empty space in her perception. She had half the mind to think that that thing from beyond finally got them, but that thing had void for eyes, where the Drifter– Still had just a flicker of it in their eyes. Very different. They had figured out how to close her out, entirely, despite the fact that they were usually alarmingly open about their feelings, to a degree that Eleanor had to tell them to ‘quiet down’ a few times on a few subjects sometimes while she was trying to focus; particularly about the Hex's one-man IT department.
Today, though? Nothing. Just solemn silence, like the moment after something died.
They didn’t show up for their usual ‘impromptu’ team lunch with Amir and Aoi. But that wasn’t that weird, right? Sometimes they got busy in their workshop and missed the time, that was fine.. So why was there this.. Lingering dread in the air, where usually the trio were going on about a show, or a game, or music, or whatever?
They did show up for their briefing at noon, but they were as distant as the year they came from, absent-mindedly twirling that cobbled together taser-knife of theirs on the table between them and the Hex, tired eyes behind blue-tinted sunglasses glazed over and staring into the middle distance over Arthur’s right shoulder.
“Drifter? Drifter! Did you hear anything I just said?” Arthur said, leaning over into their line of sight and snapping his fingers to try and get their attention. His tone was firm, commanding, but there was an underlying hint of concern, not just for the mission he was describing, but for the Drifter themself.
They jumped a bit at Arthur’s raised voice and the rumblejack on the table came to a scraping stop in the Drifter’s grasp. Looking back and forth between Quincy, Aoi and Arthur at the table, they cleared their throat, sitting up straight like a kid caught sleeping in class. “Y-yeah I heard you. Me and Quincy, tech rot outbreak, 1400. Should be back by 1500, little bit later if things are real nasty in there, Lettie on comms running the scrubbers.” They rattled off, gaze focusing on Arthur. “Anything else for me today?”
Arthur looked down at the scrawled schedule on a yellow notepad in front of him, and quick as a blade scratched out ‘Drifter’ on a later timeslot in the day with a bright red pen. “No, no just the one..”
The Drifter raised an eyebrow then dismissed it with a shake of the head. “Alright, if you’re sure.. I’ll go get ready.” They said, dragging their chair out from the table and standing up without another word.
As soon as they turned the corner and Quincy made to get up from the table himself, Aoi spoke up. “We should go check on them, don’t you think?”
Arthur shook his head. “If they want to talk about it, I’m sure they’ll talk, but I think it’s pretty clear they aren’t in the talking mood at the moment.”
Aoi rolled her eyes. “Quincy, could you keep an eye on them? While you’re out, at least?” She called out to Quincy’s back, as he made his way out of the food court and towards the arcade.
“‘Course, who do you take me for? Already on it!” Quincy yelled back over his shoulder as he stepped into the neon lights and incessant beeps of Amir’s favorite spot in the mall. “Amir? Amir! Oi, loverboy! D’you know what’s with space trauma this morning?”
Amir, who had been attempting, seemingly, to play every arcade machine at once, skidded to a stop, bumping a metal hip into the air hockey table and sending the puck coasting slowly towards one of the goals. After a couple of seconds of stunned silence, several games around the room all resounded into a cacophony of ‘Game Over’ jingles. “L-loverboy?! Wh–huh?!”
“Aren’t you and the drifter– I mean, the way I’ve caught them lookin’ at you– Y’know what? For once? Not my business today. Not gonna touch that.” Quincy held his hands up in a stopping motion, which did not at all stop the thoughts now racing through Amir’s head. “Lemme repeat that question; d’you know what’s up with space trauma this morning?”
“Nnnooo…” Amir took up his place at a single cabinet now, trying to focus his mind away from–How Marty looked at him? At him ? How they look at him ? He was more worried that Quincy had caught him looking too long at them, not the other way around. There have been times that he felt those piercing, glowing eyes on him, looked over and the Drifter suddenly turns their gaze away, but he thought they might just have spaced out and ohcrapQuincy’sstilltalking–
“--like PROPER distant, y’know? I’m surprised they could rattle off His Maj’s orders back as well as they did, because they were gone gone. Nothing you can think of that would have ‘em like this? Did you text with ‘em last night?” Quincy spoke, leaning up against the cabinet to try and keep some semblance of eye contact with Amir.
“Nnno, we didn’t talk on KIM last night but I figured they were just tired; they were out until 2 in the morning with Eleanor, and the night before we were up until.. About the same time I think watching those bootleg copies of Sailor Lua Aoi dug up out of the back of the media store.. Why ask me?” He turned his gaze from the screen for a second to meet Quincy’s gaze. Frustration. Vague sense of disappointment. Exasperation. Okay, at least Quincy's normal today.
Quincy stared intensely at Amir’s curious, confused face for a second before rolling his eyes, kicking off the arcade cabinet and making his way out. “If you can’t see why I’d ask you of all of us, you’re a lost cause, Amir.”
Amir’s thoughts drifted (ha) out to that night before last, the last time him and the Drifter had spent time together, for any hint of what might be bothering them.. Curled up on a couch (why did Entrati furnish that room in like, 90% couches, anyway?), a bowl of popcorn between them that turned into 3 or 4 by the night’s end. Watching anime with varying qualities of unofficial subtitles; laughing at bad subtitle typos, yelling almost in sync at surprising moments..
Just. Just normal friend things, you know? Just normal. Just normal friend stuff. Very normal to have sat literally side by side, so close that whenever they got laughing, the Drifter would bump their forehead into his shoulder like an affectionate cat. (And oh sweet Lua that laugh of theirs..) Hands bumping into each other as they reached for the popcorn simultaneously, a spark of blue static flying towards their hand, a licking finger of the void towards his as they collided.. So, so normal.
Just. Guys being dudes things– Wait, was the Drifter a guy? It just now occurred to Amir the fact that he and the rest of the Hex just kind of.. Instinctively used neutral phrasing for them, the moment they landed– No conversation about that, no correction needed. Huh. Anyway,
Not a thing crossed his mind that would be upsetting to them, let alone something that would be haunting them like this two days later. The only time they even frowned that night, beyond in reaction to something in their show, was..
The credits rolled, and between the two of them sharing their favorite moments, the Drifter’s eyes hit the clock.
“Shit, it’s 2 am.. I’ve got to be up in like 5 hours..”
Amir checked his watch. “Ah crap you’re right, and I’ve gotta be up in 4.. Well, worth it, I say! I’m really glad you ended up liking it, even if I had to explain to fill in some bits, uh.. Aoi and I haven't been able to find most of the episodes, hopefully there’s a copy somewhere out there,” Amir gestured vaguely to the window, as he rewound the last tape and packed up to leave. “That didn’t get eaten up by techrot and turned into something that really wants to kill and eat us." He chuckled awkwardly, then realized he was still standing there, not leaving like he said he was going to. "Um. G’night, sorry not sorry for the lack of sleep tomorrow!” He waved, jogging his way down the stairs and down to the door, stopping as he heard the Drifter's voice from above.
"Amir?"
He turned around and looked up to see the Drifter’s gently glowing eyes looking down at him from the balcony with this odd sense of sadness to their expression, a soft frown turning back to a smile as they waved good night.
“Good night, Amir.. See you tomorrow.”
Did they. Did they want him to sleep over or something? Surely not, he was all hard metal and restless, nightmare filled sleep and they knew it and oh my god why did your mind go right to the two of you sharing a couch to sleep, Amir.
Amir?
“Amir!” Arthur’s voice raised up above the beeping of the arcade.
He shook himself out of the daydream and realized that for the past ??? minutes since Quincy left, he’d been ‘playing’ the demo screen of his game. “Uh, yeah, boss? Whatsup?”
“Lettie needs you to make a med run down to the southwest shelter,” Arthur said, handing a full backpack over. “ASAP.”
“‘Course.. Of course, can do, just uh.. Gimme a few and I’ll be out.” Amir grabbed the pack and zipped into his own little backroom to grab the rest of his gear, mind still playing the events of previous nights in his head. In text, in person, through smiles and laughs and even putting up with him telling them off, practically yelling at them over text to leave him alone when he was at his worst.. Ah crap this is gonna be on his head all day, isn’t it?