Archive of Our Own ^beta

Odin had to suppress a chuckle as Daiki continued to radiate quiet disapproval as he discovered yet another avenue through which regular, everyday people were shafted by life: airport restaurants. The exorbitant high prices were clearly something Daiki hadn’t actually encountered before, which had Odin trying to imagine how his kid had conducted himself on previous travel excursions. Or more specifically, what happened when he traveled alone.

He probably brought his own food, for one. Used the public water fountains to fill a reusable container. And tucked himself into whatever corner he could find in order to minimize the need to interact with the general public. His kid's comfort level with people seemed to run towards a handful of specific sub-sets, none of which included stressed out families and white collar types with overly inflated egos. Which made picturing him having to cool his heels sitting at an airport gate entertaining as hell.

For this trip, though, they had a long enough wait that it was just good sense to have a meal before boarding. And since sitting out in the food court was an absolute nightmare of potential angles, hiding places, and distractions their enemies could use against them, they’d chosen one of the restaurants that graced these hallowed halls.

The food should be good, even if Odin had rather belatedly realized he’d set himself for mockery by letting Daiki pick. Still, the relative privacy more than made up for that.

“You were surprisingly chatty with our driver today,” Odin said as they waited for their order to come out.

Daiki raised an eyebrow. “I owed him. And not just because of the help he provided today.”

”Oh, so you didn’t enjoy talking shop? I couldn’t follow a word of it, mind you, but you both seemed rather enthusiastic about the subject matter.”

“He’s a specialist, it comes with the territory. But… it was good… thinking back to all of that again,” Daiki admitted. “Hm, it doesn’t come up a lot these days, even with the people I know. But those specific aspects of my… prior job training… were actually quite enjoyable.

”The original build team…” Daiki paused again, presumably trying to work out the best way to explain without using any words that would attract attention. “They were good. Good at their jobs and in general. Several of them went out of their way to add modifications to the capsule to reduce discomfort.”

Capsule… It took Odin a few moments to remember Miser’s comment in the car. Cockpit capsule. He wasn’t fully clear on what that meant, but ‘cockpit’ was clear enough. Which meant what his kid was saying was that the team who’d built the specific part of his Gundam had made it as comfortable as it could be. Which also meant that some of the CLO cultists had actually been able to vaguely see the kid underneath the monster they were trying to make. They hadn’t managed to rescue him from its vile clutches, but they’d at least tried to do something for him.

…. And admittedly, they probably couldn’t have done anything drastic. They would have been vastly outnumbered, for one. Between the cult-like veneration of the original Heero Yuy, the bloodthirsty desire for revenge, and the tsunami of money the Barton Foundation was pouring into all the Gundam projects, there would have been plenty of foul-minded folk ready to kill any attempt to disrupt the plan.

”You liked them?” Odin asked, and Daiki nodded.

”It was expected I would need to be able to facilitate my own repairs, so helping with the build work supported that goal. And… on the rare occasions I had free time… That’s typically where I chose to spend it.”

The simple phrasing hit Odin like a truck because the weight behind it…

Thank fuck his kid had had some kind of refuge… Not a great one, or one where the people who made the space safe had all that much power… But he’d had something.

An entirely unexpected wave of relief washed over him and Odin had to actually work to keep a look of quiet calm on his face. “That’s good… Very good,” he said, having to pause briefly to clear his throat. “By the sound of it, though, you didn’t feel the same about our driver when you first met him.”

Daiki shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t know him. Or his crew. And I wasn’t… in a great place then. Suddenly having the machine I thought I’d destroyed returned to me on top of everything else… It was a lot to process and I took those layers of distress out on the people who'd facilitated the repairs - at great potential cost to themselves."

That seemed to imply this happened after his kid tried to blow himself up, which also fit with the whole 'not being in a great place' sentiment. On the one hand, Odin wanted to know more about that incident and what had driven it. On the other hand…

The very thought of digging into that topic terrified him. He already had an inkling of the horrors lurking in his kid's past and learning the actual specifics… It frightened him. He did need to know. He wanted to know, and he wanted his kid, his son, to know Odin would listen to what he was willing to share.

And the fact that it would haunt his dreams afterwards was just punishment for what all he'd done, honestly.

"What about the rest of what you said there before we parted ways?" Odin asked… then had to pause and lean back as one of the waitstaff arrived with a tray full of food. He sighed softly as the various dishes were set down. Daiki was smirking at him, too, as he reached for a set of disposable chopsticks.

Damn it all…

"If you're referring to my comments about Mars, it's a viable option for him," Daiki said as he began eating. His chopsticks moved neatly and fluidly in his hand as he picked up a piece of chicken. "The trip only takes a few months right now given the relative location of both planets and the challenge of developing terrestrial colonies on Mars does lend itself to creating an environment for certain types of tools to be redeveloped and deployed."

"It wasn't just because of those that you recommended it, though," Odin said. He glared at the pair of slender wooden sticks in his own hand and made an awkward attempt to pick up a strip of beef. These damned things… he'd never really gotten the hang of them…

Daiki hummed softly. "From what little I know of him, our driver was always the sort to focus on work over politics. I don't hold his former employer blameless for what happened, but there were… additional stress factors at play no one else discusses. Mostly due to lack of direct exposure." A frown settled on his lips as he nodded slightly to himself. "It doesn't excuse his actions, but it can help explain the extremes. Likewise, the arc of recovery that followed once that stressor was removed goes far to suggest how extreme an influence that stressor was."

Shaking his head, Odin stabbed a piece of broccoli with one stick and used that to take his next bite. (Much to Daiki's simultaneous amusement and firm disapproval.) "I got almost none of that, kid," he told him.

"I'll expand on the matter later, then."

"I'd appreciate that. I still think my solution would be better."

"You're not going to Mars, Otou-san."

"Tch. What about that other thing, then?"

Daiki gave him a blank look for a moment before realizing what Odin was referring to. "The other matter is a vague idea I had some time ago. I didn't think it was something actually viable so I've never looked into what it would take to implement it, but… Our driver would actually be well positioned to provide aid in completing it. If we have time, I may send a message out to a few people to begin exploring it."

His eyes flashed with sudden amusement as he added, "I do have funds that could be re-deployed into a personal project, after all."

"Fuck, that nightmare," Odin realized with a groan. "Can you even use those funds without it being flagged?"

"According to the-" Daiki paused briefly and swept his eyes across the restaurant to ensure no one was in immediate ear shot. "Myself and the others all received blanket pardons encompassing a very generous time period. Which should mean I can use those funds without having to explain how they came into my possession."

"Should?" Odin asked in a faint sounding voice.

"Should. Verification of that is one of the matters that would need to be examined before I took further action."

"You'd better get confirmation before you do anything with all that," Odin warned him. "I'll be very upset if we all end up living out of caves because you accidently caused the financial apocalypse."

"It's just numbers, there's no reason for people to get that upset about it," Daiki murmured with quiet exasperation.

"And yet, they absolutely would."

"Tch."

"Eat your damned food, brat. Now where's that waiter, I need a goddamned fork…"

Daiki didn’t laugh outright at him, but he did look plenty smug when Odin abandoned the chopsticks and switched to Western-style utensils instead. Such a damned brat. Some things never changed.

Still, the food really was good, and the portions were large enough that even his kid ended the meal full. And unlike the meals they’d shared in the hotel, Daiki didn’t look downright sour and obviously discomforted by the time he finished. Odin could only assume there was a metabolic price to be paid for his son’s manufactured abilities. Thankfully, he seemed content with returning to regular sized portions, which was reassuring.

He swept his eyes across the never-ceasing flow of people outside while Daiki handled their bill. The sooner they got on their plane, the better. His skin was crawling right now. There were too many uncontrollable variables here. It was tempting to try and hit up one of the private lounges… but that meant having to trek through the terminal even more compared to just sitting and waiting at their gate; at least there they had options to run and fight instead of being trapped in a box.

This whole damned thing was such a mess… and contrasted wildly with what he thought would follow his final job. Nothing could have prepared him for ending up in such a madcap cross-country flight. And yet…

He didn't regret it. Not any bit of it. He'd spent years worrying about his kid, then ended up drowning in guilt when he discovered who'd grabbed him. This past week was the first time in a full decade where things weren't immediately awful when he woke up in the morning. When he wasn't chasing breakfast with liquor and booze multiple times a week.

Against all odds, his kid had found him. He'd figured out Odin's greatest, most horrible plan, and cast everything aside to reach out just for a chance at reconciliation. His son was brilliant, and wounded, and loved others with his whole being. Somehow, he even still managed to hold some affection for the loser of a hitman who'd once taken him in then threw him aside like garbage.

Odin didn't deserve that kindness, nor that love. But since Daiki was offering it up, he couldn't help but greedily accept it, selfishly claiming him as family when he really didn't have any right to. And here they were now - desperately trying to stay one step ahead of their pursuers in hopes of getting to the one thing that might give him a chance at freedom after all of this.

Because Odin felt beyond certain he knew what his kid wanted now: he wanted him, present and close, enough to remain an easily reached touchstone in his life. He wanted something vaguely like what they'd been, once. Perhaps it could even possibly be considered 'family' now that Odin didn't have the same demons in his head anymore and had stopped lying to himself about how much he cared for his kid.

A line from an old (ancient, really) movie passed through his mind: So let it be written, so let it be done.

His kid wanted to have a father, and he wanted that father to be Odin. So be it. And to hell with how shitty he was at it.

Just then, a figure passed by the entrance to the restaurant, casually scanning the crowd of faces milling about the concourse and Odin felt his blood run cold. He knew that face.

"Problem," he murmured, and Daiki's head jerked around at once. "Some new friends outside. Better trained ones than the last. They won't start anything in public, but they're definitely on our trail."

Daiki nodded minutely. "They're probably at every major travel hub nearby now. We'll need to take evasive action."

"Our flight isn't too far off now… we could try to wait them out." Odin's eyes wandered over to a drunk business man sitting at the bar paying his tab. They were about the same size, actually…

"Traffic around the airport is too snarled for us to make a viable escape right now. If we can evade them long enough…" Daiki let out a soft hum as he weighed the pros and cons. "It's worth attempting. Our travel options at our destination are a bit better than here."

"Let's see if we can put on some new faces, then."

And after transferring some items from Odin's bag into Daiki's and leaving his precious violin case in his son's hands, Odin fell into step behind the drunk businessman leaving the restaurant.

A change of attire should do the trick.

“Our friends are still with us?” Heero wrote on the small notebook he’d picked up days earlier alongside the reading glasses now perched low on his nose.

Odin glanced briefly at the notebook as Heero tilted it towards him and nodded minutely beside him as he continued perusing one of the glossy promotional booklets found in the briefcase he’d liberated earlier. The cover showed a number of sporty looking people making use of small, flashy looking water craft. It seemed the person whose suit he'd borrowed had been a traveling salesman of sorts.

“Where?” Heero wrote.

One of Odin's hands darted down to borrow his pen so he could quickly scribble a note of his own: ‘Three in total, five and eight rows behind us.’

Damn. That many? It would be hard keeping an eye on them all.

It was hard not to scowl, and even harder not to turn around and glare. He could all but feel the eyes staring forwards towards them. Well, joke’s on them. Heero and Odin knew about their tail, and that the details of Heero’s appearance couldn’t be well known enough yet for them to ID him - even as just “Suzaku”. (Which he still needed to ask Odin about… good grief, but that name was just...)

As far as outside observers knew, including their unwanted tail, Heero and Odin were complete strangers. They weren't paying the slightest bit of attention to each other (supposedly) and hadn't even boarded the plane at the same time. Sitting side by side seemed like a mere coincidence. They couldn't be more different, too, what with Odin wearing a rumpled suit and carrying a briefcase full of sports booklets and sales reports. (He’d begun studying them the moment he'd sat down in his seat; he an expert by the time they landed.) Heero, meanwhile, looked the part of a student or young tech worker busy keeping his head down as he scribbled stuff down in a notebook.

(They had time, so he'd decided to go ahead and start poking at that idea he’d vaguely mentioned to Miser. And found it expanding in scope at quite a rapid pace as he started actually thinking through the logistics of everything. To his dismay, he was realizing he might end up needing to draw up an actual formal business plan if he couldn’t figure out how to claw this project back down to a more reasonable size. Even his ill-gotten fortune might not be enough to see it through, depending on how the design work and prototyping went. And the price of Gundamium alloy certain wasn't going down anytime soon.

(Still… Heero's eyes drifted towards the open window and lingered there as he savored the sight of the Earth's curvature. He adored supersonic flight and the pristine smoothness that accompanied being at such high-altitudes, without a doubt. It had been so long since he'd been the one with his hands on the controls as he soared in that space between land and space. Maybe a business plan wasn't a bad idea; having an active cash flow and industry-level access to different manufacturers could help speed production up by a considerable measure…)

Turning to a new sheet of paper, Heero started to outline a new plan.

"Ahh, this takes me back," Odin suddenly said beside him.

Heero paused and let his head turn just enough to peek at the man… but found Odin angling more towards the woman sitting beside him in their small row of seats. She blinked, startled at being addressed.

"I used to be able to take my kid with me on business trips," Odin explained. "There was one flight that I always find myself thinking back to whenever I'm traveling. My kid was seven, see. He'd been reading before then, but by this flight, it had really just taken off."

"That can happen," the woman said, nodding at him.

"Right, and he was reading everything he could get his hands on-"

What was happening right now? Heero did his best to keep his eyes fixed on his page even as he just… listened. To his father reminiscing to a stranger about him.

"-and you know, once flights get over a certain length, you're just glad they're entertaining themselves." The woman laughed along with Odin and actually turned more towards him as he continued to speak. "So there I am, fourteen hours into this flight- we were heading up to the L2 cluster, actually. Pure happenstance, that."

"I didn't know there was a market for jet skis in space," the woman said in a voice that almost sounded… playful?

Odin chuckled at that. "Oh, this is just something I picked up recently. It's been quite fun, though. There's such a thrill in taking to the water, don't you think? I enjoy getting to share that kind of… thrill… with others."

Something about this conversation was setting off a number of alarm bells in Heero's head and he wasn't quite certain why.

"But as you say, there isn't much of a call for jet skis in the colonies. We were on other business, the details of which don't matter much right now. What does matter is how my kid was picking up and reading everything he could get his hands on. If he didn't have a book, he was reading a pamphlet. The back of boxes. Dictionaries. Safety notices and anything he could find that had print in it."

"He sounds quite precocious!"

"He was. And still is, in many ways," Odin said in a smug voice. "But the problem with that little habit… is that he truly would read whatever he picked up. Aloud."

"Oh no- what did he find?!"

Odin dropped his voice down and leaned in towards the woman a bit more. "As it turns out, whomever had been in my kid's seat before our flight stuck a rather… salacious work… in the space liner magazine. Which he found… and started reading… at full volume."

The woman's hands flew to cover her mouth as she gasped. It was all quite unnecessarily theatrical, Heero thought.

But also, what? He'd done what?

"I'm trying to get some shut eye when I suddenly hear my kid's voice piping up to share some absolute filth with the rest of the shuttle. He doesn't have a clue, of course, what he's reading. And from a technical perspective, he was doing quite well with some of those terms given how wildly unfamiliar he was with them-"

They shared a delighted laugh. Heero, meanwhile, found himself wanting to just sink down into his seat in embarrassment. He'd done WHAT?!

"Needless to say, everyone noticed. People were turning around, and standing up in the aisles, the flight attendants were called- It was a whole thing. I half-expected to be greeted with handcuffs when we reached the colony. It was insanely stressful. I had to explain all of it, first to the crew, and then later on to my son-"

… something about this was starting to ring a bell. Some vague memory was stirring in the recesses of his mind, something centered around looking up at a ring of shocked faces, feeling something being plucked out of his hands, Otou-san had had to do a lot of talking…

Oh. Oh no, this really had happened, hadn't it?

His face had gone red despite his best efforts to not listen in and Heero only belatedly realized he was digging his pen into the notebook in such a way that it was creating a rapidly expanding ink blot on the paper.

"-know what I could have really used after all of that, though," Odin was continuing, "is a chance to just… relax. And enjoy some nice, light-hearted thrills-"

The woman let out a peel of delighted laughter as Odin transitioned smoothly into a sales pitch for a product he'd only just begun learning the ins and outs of. And he did so well that Heero's blush hadn't entirely subsided by the time the woman started filling out an order form.

His father, Heero concluded, was ridiculous. It didn't take long before Odin turned that fine-tuned charm on some of the other people sitting around them and he didn't doubt for a minute that Odin wouldn't be mailing in the forms he'd soon be collecting so they could be processed as true bills of sale. He committed fully, and completely, when he did shit like this. "Chester Franks" was about to have the greatest sales day of his life.

Oh well. At least it provided some minor entertainment while they drew closer to their destination (even with the embarrassing childhood stories suddenly being bandied about). They'd have a lot to deal with once they landed, after all.

In the meantime, Heero needed to start drawing up a list of questions to send to Miser soon. The man had been a crew chief in the past, after all. He'd have a much clearer idea what kind of equipment and personnel Heero was going to need.

And perhaps he'd even be interested in helping with the whole thing.