Clipped Wings

Agent Nashville. Pilot. Formerly. [RP blog for the RPG After Equinox]

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

[Escape Pods] We're Definitely Not In Kansas Anymore, Toto [Lincoln & Nashville]

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

"An order, huh?" Lincoln dredged up a slight smile. "I’ll do my best."

Nashville’s touch was at once both reassuring and irritating against his skin. Not that the latter really had anything to do with Nashville—his skin was just going over-sensitive. Honestly, if he felt like he had the freedom to do so, Lincoln would have been quite happy sitting down and staying down until he got some decent medical attention.

His energy was beginning to drop. He doubted he could keep up pain suppression for much longer.

Pity. He was out of practice. He’d held out for much longer, before.

"Pegasus and Libby will be here shortly, too," he said. Lincoln reached out, touching his fingertips to Nashville’s shoulder. "So, hey, I’ll have my pick of three A.I. to drag my sorry ass out of here."

The first drop of rain made him squint, and look up. The light shower that started actually felt damn good against his overheated skin, even if looking up did make him realize that the sun was starting to go down. Great. Shelter was going to get real necessary soon.

[groundednash]

Shit. It was raining. Nashville tilted his head up to the sky, squinting as the rain misted down against his skin. At the moment he was thankful he'd ripped off most of his armor. At least he got to feel the rain.

...Wait. His armor.

"Fuck, I'm such a goddamn idiot." Surging to the side, Nashville dug through his discarded armor for his pack. "I keep a medkit on me. After Adrian..."

Fuck. He'd just said his name.

Pausing, Nashville had to grit his teeth, forcing back a rush of emotions, of memories he would have sworn he'd buried and left behind. This was so far from the time for that.

"Just... Here." Nashville pulled out the pain suppressant injection. "This should keep you going for a while."

[groundednash]

First Contact (Nash & Peter)

A.I. Unit Pisces: ...My apologies, Agent.

A.I. Unit Pisces: I will be there as quickly as I am able.

Nashville: I'm going to leave Linc with you. We've got to find someplace better than this or he's going to die.

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

[Escape Pods] We're Definitely Not In Kansas Anymore, Toto [Lincoln & Nashville]

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

Lincoln didn’t want to sit down, because he was pretty sure if he did, he wasn’t getting back up again. But he had little choice, and by the time he even thought about telling Nashville to lay off, he was already sitting. Damn it.

"Well, who the hell else would I worry about?" Lincoln gave a faint smile, though he wished Nashville hadn’t taken the rest of his chest plate and his arm guards off. Now he’d have to carry them to wherever they decided they were going to make shelter, and it would have been easier to just wear them.

It was good, at least, to hear that Nashville’s A.I. was alive. Too many of them today would experience broken partnerships.

He kept his gaze on the side of the ship, waiting for Pegasus and Lyra. He’d seen Calvin, back at the escape pods. Peter and an unnamed A.I. were almost out of the ship. Was that it? He hadn’t seen any other A.I. Of two dozen A.I., that was who was left. And of more Agents, only a handful remained.

"Look, you know as well as I do that this goddamn tree through my side can’t be yanked until we’re somewhere we’re going to stay. And I don’t think here is where we’re staying for the foreseeable future.” Lincoln rubbed his forehead, then touched Nashville’s shoulder—and regretted it, because he was pouring sweat, and he’d probably just gotten some on Nashville. “Just—I’m fine, okay? I’m good for a while yet. I promise I won’t move more than necessary.”

[groundednash]

"Shut up." Nashville's tone turned harsh. "You're not fine. There is no goddamn point in lying to me anymore, Linc. I mean, Jesus fuck, the whole world just literally dropped from the sky. Your tough guy act is kind of going to waste out here."

Okay. He needed to get Lincoln comfortable. He was probably going into shock. Yanking off the remains of his own armor, Nashville tugged off his shirt. He used the edges of it to wipe the sweat from Lincoln's forehead, studying his face.

"You can't die." He said it calmly, fingertips lightly touching Lincoln's jaw. "That's an order." 

Right. They needed to figure out where they were and where they were going to stay. This was not a good spot. The wreckage wouldn't be stable for much longer.

"As soon as Peter gets here, I'm going to go find us a spot," he decided. "I just don't want to leave you alone."

[groundednash]

First Contact (Nash & Peter)

A.I. Unit Pisces: Er, yes, Orion and I salvaged what medical supplies we could.

A.I. Unit Pisces: And every human psychology text book I have read informs me that speaking about one's emotions is healthy and-- well. We can save for later. What is your location?

Nashville: Don't fucking talk to me about psychology right now.

Nashville: We're on the south side of the crash, near where the hanger used to be. Lincoln's AI is trapped inside, we're trying to save them.

[groundednash]

First Contact (Nash & Peter)

A.I. Unit Pisces: Oh, I-- hello. I was wondering when you would realize that our implant was online once more. You have been experiencing many emotions, Agent.

A.I. Unit Pisces: I am fine. My corporeal form was crushed in the hangar but my programming was sent to a spare form. Both Scorpio and Orion are also alive, but I have seen nobody else.

A.I. Unit Pisces: I have felt your distress about your brother. I am very sorry, Agent.

Nashville: Peter, please tell me you snagged a medkit somewhere. Lincoln is hurt pretty bad and I need… He can’t die, Peaches, okay? He can’t.

Nashville: I don't want to talk about my goddamn emotions.

[groundednash]

First Contact (Nash & Peter)

Nashville: Peter? I…everyone is dead, I assume you are as well. All the Pelicans are destroyed. And Richmond…

Nashville: Are you okay?

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

[Escape Pods] We're Definitely Not In Kansas Anymore, Toto [Lincoln & Nashville]

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

He felt like shit.

It was something that Lincoln was only starting to slowly realize. He felt too cold and too hot, his muscles felt like they wanted to start shaking. The pain, still held at bay, was starting to creep in around the corners, turning the entire side of his abdomen into a dull ache that had the potential for a whole lot worse.

Didn’t matter. He had work to do.

So he answered Nashville with a simple, “Right,” and aimed another shot where Nashville had pointed to. He hoped the guy was at least contacting his A.I. Lincoln had met him once or twice; Peter was a moody little sulker, and Lincoln still didn’t quite get how Nashville got on with him so well. They seemed polar opposites.

Then again, maybe the same thing could be said of himself and Pegasus.

Once they’d made a big enough gap in the side of the ship, Lincoln re-holstered his shotgun, folding his arms across his chest as he settled in to wait. He wasn’t happy that he had a giant chunk of the chestplate of his armor gone—who knew what was on this planet, who knew what they’d need to defend themselves from.

"Your A.I. alive?" Damn, he was down to shorter sentences. Lincoln lifted a hand, pressing cool armor plating against his forehead. "Is he with anybody else?"

[groundednash]

Nashville had seen injured soldiers before. A pilot had to be able to handle whatever was on his bird, at least long enough to fly them home. Well, there wasn't a home anymore. Or anything for Nashville to fly. But he could help.

Or...something.

"Okay, gorgeous, that's enough." He took Lincoln by the shoulders, guiding him back towards the nearest rock. "Sit. Now." It was the closest he came to commanding outside of a cockpit. "You're going to pass out and I am not hauling your pert ass anywhere."

Shit. Shit, he had no supplies. He had nothing.

[Peter, please tell me you snagged a medkit somewhere. Lincoln is hurt pretty bad and I need... He can't die, Peaches, okay? He can't.] 

"Hang on, Linc," Nashville muttered, crouching down in front of him. "Okay? You're gonna be fine."

Nashville started to take off Lincoln's armor, slowly, brow furrowing as he studied the wound. Shit. That was bad. "Peter's alive. He's with another AI and he's apparently almost out of the ship. Now stop worrying about other people." 

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

[Escape Pods] We're Definitely Not In Kansas Anymore, Toto [Lincoln & Nashville]

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

While Nashville had been freaking out, Lincoln had been keeping half an ear out for him, and the other half out for the conversation he was having with Pegasus. The A.I. was trapped in the ship along with Lyra, and they were currently in—

—the ceiling? Why did so many people on that ship feel the need to crawl around in the ceilings?

"She shouldn’t have. She deserved a better death," Lincoln agreed mildly, his eyes on the ship. He wasn’t sure if he actually meant what he said. For all he knew, the ship and it’s captain had caused more harm than good. Now he wasn’t sure if he’d ever really find that out for sure. There was still so much unknown about the Director’s objectives, about the A.I., and …

The call with the UNSC fluttered across his thoughts, though Lincoln was careful to keep it well away from the implant connection.

He’d have to consider that later.

"My partner and another A.I. are in that wreck, and they’re trapped." Lincoln glanced down—he didn’t give much of a reaction as he checked his side. The pain was still being held at bay by sheer force of will and a hell of a lot of training, but he couldn’t maintain that forever. Nashville was right, he didn’t have much time before he’d need to admit defeat. So he’d just use what time he had. "Come on."

He started walking, hating himself somewhat for not being more sympathetic to Nashville and the loss of his brother. He was sympathetic, but now was not the right time to show it. There were still living people that needed help. Nashville could grieve later.

"They’re near the hangar, in the ceiling," he said, lips held in a thin line as he made his way around to the left side of the ship. By some fucking miracle, his shotgun was still holstered at his side; so he drew it out, looked at the side of the ship as he took a second to calculate where the ceiling would be above the hangar, and fired. The resulting hole he blew into the side of the ship was satisfying, in an odd way. "You got a read on your A.I. or not?"

[groundednash]

What the fuck. Was this guy a literal super soldier? Like did he have titanium in his veins or something? Jesus fuck, how was he even on his feet still? Lincoln was injured, bleeding, and he was still dragging Nashville's sorry ass around.

Like Richmond always had.

Take Nash out of a bird and he was nothing. What the fuck was he even supposed to do to help?

Gritting his teeth, Nashville pulled out his sidearm. Shooting the ship. That felt...incredibly wrong. Richmond probably would have given him a big speech on the irony of the situation. 

But Richmond wasn't here. Wouldn't be here. Ever again.

"What?" Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he looked over at Lincoln. His AI?

Peter.

Jesus, he'd forgotten all about Peter.

"I...I don't know." Nashville moved forward, firing off a few more strategic shots. 

Okay. The hanger ceiling. 

...Oh, God, his birds. They were gone, too.

[Peter? I...everyone is dead, I assume you are as well. All the Pelicans are destroyed. And Richmond...

Are you okay?] 

"Listen, you want to aim about six feet left. That's where the hanger ventilation shafts would dead-end. If they're coming through the ceiling, that's where they'd be."

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

[Escape Pods] We're Definitely Not In Kansas Anymore, Toto [Lincoln & Nashville]

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

And just what the fuck did Nashville think he was going to?

Reaching out, Lincoln put a hand on Nashville’s shoulder, stopping him from climbing the tree or whatever he thought he was going to do. It was a smart move of Nashville’s, he’d admit, getting to higher ground to scope out the scenery. But it wasn’t wise now.

"Nashville, listen to me," Lincoln said, keep his voice even. "I’m sorry about your brother. I really am. But now is not the time to get scatter-brained and go off and do our own things. There’ll be time for that later, but right now, we need to focus."

He looked back to the ship. From what he could tell through the implant, Pegasus was in there, along with another A.I. And if they didn’t get a move on, they’d get trapped, and they sure as hell weren’t going to dig their way out through a pile of solid metal that thick.

"I need your help."

It was a dirty trick, admittedly. But Lincoln was fairly sure that in a few minutes he’d need someone to lean on so that he could even walk.

"There’s people in there. And it’s not going to hold steady much longer. So we need to go help."

[groundednash]

Blinking, looking back at the ship, at the groaning, creaking pile of metal, Nashville couldn't help but laugh. This was what looked like half of a fucking starship. In the ground. In the fucking mud and the dirt. Starships weren't supposed to be like this. They were made to glide through space, not get caught in the gravity and muck.

"What the hell do you think we're going to do?" Nashville asked, quietly, staring at the wreckage. There was an almost manic smile on his face, a crazed, desperate grief in his movements. "Move the goddamn ship? Do you understand what just happened? This bird fell out of the fucking sky, Linc. It dropped down and... Do you know how many times that happens? Like...it doesn't, okay. It doesn't happen." Nashville paced away and then back again, another hysterical laugh escaping him, hand rubbing across his face.

Richmond's helmet clutched tightly still.

Closing his eyes, Nashville took a few deep breaths. Struggling to contain the sick jolt in his stomach, the gnawing panic that seemed to be driving him towards a razor's edge.

"She should have died with some dignity," he muttered, jaw tight. "Not like this. It's... She shouldn't have gone down like this."

Another slow breath and he nodded. "Okay, Mr. Hero. You've got a goddamn branch in your side. I'd say you've got three, three and a half minutes before you pass out. What do you want to do?"

[groundednash]

Aftermath [Escape Pod] Calvin & Nashville

[pfz-calvin]

The A.I. stared at the hand holding his own in a vice, ignoring the incessant urges to yank it away. If there was anything he had learned from the first attack on the Equinox, the human grieving process was highly individual and different from person to person. While one person may prefer to burden their grief in a silent, hard stoicism, others like Agent Nashville seemed all too desperate to share their grief and seek the necessary comforts of companionship.

Calvin was completely uncomfortable, but couldn’t deny how inspiring and reassuring the touch of a living person was in such a dire situation. 

He adjusted his grasp and gave the man what he believed to be a reassuring squeeze. 

At least someone survived… That was a good sign.

"Noah." Calvin paused, brows lifting in surprise. This was…touching but ultimately inappropriate. He may allow physical contact but he was not prepared to address Agent Nashvnille informally. 

"…My Unit has sustained damaged but I should be capable of scaling heights, sir."

Getting up, Calvin pulling Nashville up with him, leading him with a few cautious, calculating steps towards the nearby treeline, eyes never leaving the man’s face. 

[groundednash]

He felt like a kid, like some wide-eyed, snot-nosed brat, being lead around by the hand. And yeah, okay, while Nashville would be the first to admit he wasn't exactly leader quality, he was a grown ass man. A highly trained soldier. He was, on some level, good at this. At stress. At situations a normal person would find impossible. 

He was a soldier. This was war. He should be better than this.

"You're damaged," Nashville repeated dully. His free arm was wrapped around the helmet, fingers holding tightly to Calvin's. He didn't want to let go. 

He couldn't let go.

Calvin was his touchstone. A solid, unmovable object that held Nashville to the here and now. Where Nash felt like he could just scatter away in the next wind, in the intense, sharp pain of grief, Calvin was holding him still.

"You... We should take care of you." Swallowing hard, Nashville nodded twice, trying to sound decisive. "Yeah. Yeah, you should. Shit." His free hand went to rub through his hair; he aborted the movement when he realized he was still holding the helmet. "Um. Sit down or something, right?"

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

[Escape Pods] We're Definitely Not In Kansas Anymore, Toto [Lincoln & Nashville]

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

Nashville’s behavior wasn’t a surprise—their ship had crashed, and people would be dead, it was just a matter of finding out who and how many. Agents and A.I. both had made the ship their home, and losing that home was traumatizing.

In fact, Lincoln was tempted to freak out, too. He could feel it in the back of his mind, panic clashing with anger, wanting to be let out. But he couldn’t afford to do that.

He let Nashville push him down to sit, because perhaps he did need to sit for a few seconds, but the second Nashville started poking around, Lincoln grimaced, and grabbed Nashville’s hands. “That’s not important right now,” he said, trying to keep his voice low, calming. “It’s a minor injury. There may be Agents much more drastically injured. They have to be seen to first, and we need to find them, Nashville. It doesn’t matter if we may not be soldiers anymore. We’re still human and there’s still people that need help.”

He let go of Nashville’s hands, and stood, gritting his teeth. And it occurred to him, right then, that Richmond wasn’t around. That Nashville was holding onto a helmet that definitely wasn’t his.

Shit.

Lincoln wished he had the time to tell Nashville that he was sorry. He wished he had the time to talk to him. But the Equinox was shifting, looking like it was going to drop to the ground at any second.

As cruel as it was, there was no time to think of the dead.

"Come on," he said, as gently as he could. "We need to get moving."

[groundednash]

He wished he could sound that decisive. To tell Lincoln to sit down and know exactly what to do to fix him. To be in command, even about something as stupid as a minor wound.

Instead he was staring up at the ship, watching as metal groaned and twisted. There were people staggering around under the trees, fire licking at branches and trunks, survivors all in the same daze. And Nashville couldn't move.

"I was going to..." He gestured upwards. "Find something, you know? To climb. To see from high up. I'm better from a distance. Fucking worthless on the ground. It was..." Nash paused, a broken laugh dragged out of him; he rubbed his hand across his face. "It was Rich - Damian - who was good with his feet on the dirt. Not me. I just..."

Shit.

Okay. Right. No more talking. Time to do something. Anything.

Taking the helmet, Nashville stared at it for a long moment. He couldn't climb with it in his hands, that was for sure, but he didn't want to leave it behind. In the end, he wound up pressing it into Lincoln's hands before he turned to the closest tree.

Luckily most of his armor was gone. Made climbing easier.

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

[Escape Pods] We're Definitely Not In Kansas Anymore, Toto [Lincoln & Nashville]

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

Fucking—

Ow.

Nashville had at least collided into the side that didn’t have a branch sticking out of it, but the shock of impact sent paint ricocheting through Lincoln’s bones. He scrambled to shove it away again, breathing deeply.

In and out. In and out, and mind over matter.

He didn’t know why Nashville was telling him to shut up. For that matter, he also wasn’t entirely sure why Nashville was hugging him. They had becomes friends, back on the ship, and Lincoln had even loosened up a little around him. But hugging was a bit strange. Perhaps it was the relief of finding someone else that was alive.

Lincoln cast an eye over the gathering of escape pods. Several Agents. A few A.I. Not nearly the numbers they’d had. Some could still be on the ship, he supposed, but he doubted a human would survive that impact.

As best he could, he wrapped an arm around Nashville’s shoulders, attempting to reciprocate the hug. He couldn’t raise his arm that high, though, not without twinges of pain threatening to make themselves known. It was a relief, at least, to know that he was alive.

"I—"

A sharp metal groan from the ship cut him off, the sound of it buckling echoing around the strange trees.

And then just like that, the implant switched back on.

Pegasus was alive.

"Nashville," Lincoln said carefully, "I know this whole situation sucks, but we’re going to have to get a move on. The ship is collapsing and there might still be survivors inside. Are you well enough to help?"

[groundednash]

"Stop it." His voice had an edge of hysteria to it, Nashville's teeth gritting together so hard he felt his jaw crack. "Just... Fucking stop it. We're not soldiers anymore. There isn't a Project or a ship or fucking anyone. So just..."

Richmond was dead. The thought kept beating against his brain, over and over again. Richmond was dead. His brother was dead.

There was blood on his hands.

Jerking back, staring down at his palm, Nashville muttered a hoarse, "No," before he grabbed Lincoln's shoulders. No, Lincoln couldn't be hurt. No, he could be bleeding.

No, he couldn't die. Nashville couldn't have the closest thing to a friend he'd made in years just up and fucking die on him too. Not after Damian.

"Sit down," he ordered, voice cracking. There was a chant in his head, a desperate plea sounded over and over. Help, help, help, please someone, help me.

But he tried. Fuck knew he tried. He pushed Lincoln over to a nearby log, he dropped to his knees in front of him, searching the wound like that was going to help.

Fuck.

"Okay. See, okay, that's not bad. You're going to be just fine. Everything's fine."

[undercover-agent-lincoln-blog]

[Escape Pods] We're Definitely Not In Kansas Anymore, Toto [Open]

Someone, Lincoln managed to think hazily, should have designed those fucking escape pods to watch out for asteroids.

All he could see was black and blue, blurs of color that he couldn’t quite figure out. The blue seemed to be sky, but what was the black? Something waving in the corner of his vision, one big blob. The grass he seemed to be lying on was solid, at least, even if his head was still whirling.

His escape pod had gotten clipped by an asteroid in the belt, tearing out a chunk of the side of the pod and sending it spinning. The force of metal crumpling inward had taken out a piece of his chest armor, but it had mostly protected him from any serious injury. But whatever GPS system the pod was equipped with had gotten damaged, and even though his helmet had still been secure enough to keep feeding him oxygen, Lincoln had known he was in trouble.

He’d kept a calm head as best he could. Waiting, trying to time everything perfectly. And as impact had been seconds away, he’d activated his armor enhancement. His vision had lit up with red as the energy surrounded him, temporary invulnerability shielding from the worst of the impact. But then he’d gotten thrown from the pod, the shield faltering as it absorbed too much damage.

He’d bounced down the side of a small hill, into a tree, and then rolled the rest of the way down, coming to a final stop on the grass.

It hadn’t been fucking pleasant.

Get up, Dhatri.

Just fucking get up.

Lincoln took a breath, grimacing as pain jolted through his side. He carefully picked his way to his feet, looking down. A goddamn tree branch, maybe an inch around, had lodged itself between his bottom two ribs. His blood looked dark against the t-shirt he’d worn under the armor, but the branch didn’t feel like it had gone in too deep.

What limited medical knowledge he had advised him that he shouldn’t pull it out, not until he had a medic nearby. So Lincoln took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. All Agents trained for stealth and infiltration were also trained in torture resistance, just on the off chance they got captured—and Lincoln had had plenty of experience. So he took the pain, and he filed it away. Mind over matter. Couldn’t use it too much, of course, because pain was a useful mechanism, but it looked like he had something of a walk in front of him.

He took his helmet off, tucked it under his arm, and took one step after another, making his way toward the wreck of the ship he could see. Panic threatened to make itself known, but he filed that away too.

Pegasus. Was Pegasus alive?

Focus, Dhatri. Just keep walking.

So he walked, and a mile later he spied the sight of an escape pod. A few of the Agents seemed to be gathered. Not nearly as many as there should be.

"Someone," he announced, his voice tight, "needs to tell me how many survivors we have accounted for right now, and what rescue resources we have."

[groundednash]

So, yeah, weeping like a little girl who'd dropped her ice cream? Didn't exactly do much in the long run. And Nashville couldn't let himself just fall apart. Mostly because he was still human, and, at the moment, his sense of self-preservation was still working.

For now.

Richmond's helmet carried under his arm, Nashville was ignoring the cut that tugged uncomfortably every time he moved his shoulder. Wasn't worth it. It'd heal or it wouldn't; at this point, Nashville couldn't bring himself to care.

He needed to find a high point. Someplace he could do a survey.

He was only good high up. Feet on the ground, head in the mud, he couldn't do a goddamn thing. He just... If he could get up, then he could do something.

That was what Nash was focused on. That was all he could focus on. Because if he thought about anything else, he might just fall apart.

The familiar voice, though, pulled Nashville out of his stunned, slow thoughts. For some reason, he'd never considered the fact that Lincoln might be alive. And yet there he was. Walking in. Gruff and commanding and...bleeding.

But alive.

He'd take it.

Launching himself at Lincoln, Nashville wrapped his arms around him, holding on tightly. "Shut up and stop being so goddamn perfect," he muttered. "Just... shut up."

[groundednash]

Aftermath [Escape Pod] Calvin & Nashville

[pfz-calvin]

Even as Nash thanked him, turned, and sat with that battered helmet, Calvin remained stock-still and gave the remaining mountain of wreckage a once over. It was still too hot to distinguish any specific thermal signatures and far too deep to sense for movements.

His eyes flickered to the helmet cradled in Nash’s arms. If an armored soldier could not survive this, then any further scavenging was a waste of time.

That twinge of unfamiliar hope went out.

Calvin stood quietly next to the mourning man, unsure what to do with himself. With the Equinox destroyed, the Project all but disbanded, and Concord dead, he had to dig hard to figure out what his new purpose was, if any. 

I am A.I. Capricorn. I was created to serve Project Freelance and protect it’s Agents at all costs.

Ah.

With one more glance to the pile, Calvin sat down beside Agent Nashville. It was uplifting to the Unit to have some use left, even if he would most likely have to force it upon the begrudged, near-traumatized human.

He sat silently for some time, fingers bracing his knees. He wasn’t quite familiar with this type of environment, at least at first glance, but he was certain it wouldn’t be terribly hard to plot out a plan of action from this point onward. 

He just needed to get the Agent moving.

"Agent Nashville. We need to locate a form of shelter for you before nightfall."

How long was the normal day cycle on this planet? There was no use sitting around a pondering about it.

[groundednash]

He heard Calvin - was that this one's name? He vaguely remembered, but Nashville couldn't seem to grab hold of anything solid at the moment - talking, but it was all just a buzz. Just words that slid past him, puddling at the ground, melting together into nothing at all.

Staring down at the helmet in his hands, Nashville found himself wondering if it'd hurt, when Richmond died. If he'd had time to think, to realize, to know. Or if it'd just been one second of normal life, fighting, planning, anticipating, and the next--

Whatever came next.

God, Rich was gone. Damian was gone. Just like that, he'd gone from a brother, a soldier, alive to nothing at all. Nash wouldn't ever hear his voice again, wouldn't ever be able to tell him all the shit he'd kept from him. All the stuff he'd never said, it would die inside his throat, now. There was no one to tell it to.

He was alone.

Somewhere along the way, Nash's hand had stolen over to cling desperately to Calvin's. Somewhere he'd started crying, head bowed, forehead pressed to the shattered remains of Richmond's helmet. 

They should go. Calvin was right.

What was the goddamn point?

He wanted to hate the AI. To blame them. But even that anger didn't stay, washed away in the overwhelming tide of grief.

"Noah." It was whispered; the first time he'd used his real name since getting enlisted in the Project. "My name's Noah."

Forcing in a shuddering breath, he looked up, jaw tight, teeth grit together. He rubbed his free hand through his hair, leaving it standing all up at ends, his eyes red and skin blotchy. "Okay. Okay, yeah. I just... We need to get up high, so we can see what the fuck we've landed on. How're you at climbing trees?"

[groundednash]

Aftermath [Escape Pod] Calvin & Nashville

[pfz-calvin]

Pity?

Was that what he was feeling now as he watched Nash continue to dig through the wreckage? No. Calvin felt pity for no one and wasn’t about to. This event had affected them all, whatever was left of them, and he wasn’t about to dole out sympathy just because one of the deaths hit particularly harder. 

If one of them were stupid, it was the Agent who had followed a loved one into a Project that ensured a fiery death.

How was this a surprise?

But as Nashville spat vile words back at him, Calvin was left to his own comparable reality. 

As often has he had assured himself of the coming day, the realization of death hit him hard. Watching Nashville, Calvin allowed that one moment of understand and pity flow past the floodgates of his emotion. They clenched his throat in a tighter vice than the cooling pod two hundred feet off and propelled him forward to Nashville’s side. 

"I am not entirely worthless," He murmured as he pulled a metal beam free with his good arm, face hardening as he thrust it to the side and continued to dig past the debris. 

The least he could do was indulge the human’s hopeless task and look for signs of blue armor to indulge his own.

[groundednash]

He wanted to cry. Some huge part of him, some overwhelming pain, wanted nothing more than to curl up on the black sand and weep. Because even hating the AIs was not going to bring Richmond back.

This was futile. He knew that. He just...couldn't stop.

Looking over at Calvin, something breaking in his expression, Nashville simply nodded. Perhaps he should apologize. Perhaps another time, when his voice wasn't caught in a tight lump, when he had more to him than broken sobs. For now he was barely holding himself together, the ragged parts of himself drawn around him like a tattered cloak.

They searched, side by side, through the wreckage. Bits of armor were there occasionally, but nothing Nashville recognized. 

Until he did.

Until he found a helmet.

Just a helmet. Nothing more, nothing to bury or mourn or grieve. A helmet, half burned, visor blackened, lying under a large chunk of metal.

But it was Richmond's. 

It was Damien's. 

Sinking to his knees, holding onto the helmet shakily, Nashville stared blankly ahead.

"Thank you," he managed, voice rough. "For helping me."

Damien was gone.

Nashville wished he had died, too.

[groundednash]

Aftermath [Escape Pod] Calvin & Nashville

[pfz-calvin]

Blue. So much blue.

The harsh, screaming impact of the pod to the planet echoed repeatedly in his mind. Calvin had expected to have awoken in of the other replacement Units the ship had at its disposal, or at least died, as the pod closed around the small crew.

Instead he was left to witness everything as his systems shut down into safe-mode. He watched as the walls closed around Agent Denver with such a sheer strength that his armor splintered and crushed, killing him in a merciful instant. His system was beginning to cut off his consciousness by the time the pod had stilled in movement and the roaring crunches settled into nothing but silence and burning metal.

Only the shallow breathing of Agent Augusta, whose torn armor pinned him inside the metal coffin, and the distant crashing of the ship followed him into darkness.

And when he awoke, he was alone with nothing but blue sky and the cooling metal around him. 

Calvin stayed laying there for some time, gazing up past the large tear in the ship toward the azure expanse. He kept his mind focused on the thin clouds that drifted slowly and aimlessly instead of his lost purpose. He knew from the moment he had woken up that F.I.L.S.S. had disconnected from him during his unconsciousness and Agent Concord couldn’t be reached.

The Project was over.

He was a cloud. He was just as aimless…

Calvin closed his eyes against the glare of midday light, a movement that sent reports through his head of his current state of affairs. His left shoulder had disconnected from the base unit and remained dislocated beneath the synthetic skin. The still armor of the dead Agent on him had done a number on the skin of his abdomen, tearing particularly deep through his collar to reveal the working system below. However, aside from that, he was lucky.

He just didn’t feel that way.

The Unit was near content to remain pinned in the pod for the rest of time when the sudden sound of screaming and yelling echoed into his pod, releasing a sensation he couldn’t quite put to term. After a good bit of awkward shifting, Calvin managed to remove the bloody, twisted armor from over himself and pulled out awkwardly. He looked down to his broken arm and scorched, bloody torso with a wave of tired irritation before following the voice out of the pod.

As strange and foreign as the surroundings were to him, Calvin paid no attention as he stumbled down out of the ship and moved across the littered clearing at a snails pace. Around him was everything he knew and probably everyone he knew… Perhaps he should go back into the pod.

But his feet took him to Agent Nashville and his hard, unsympathetic gaze settled on his back. 

"Your efforts are fruitless."

Agent Nashville was a cloud.

[groundednash]

Of course it was fruitless.

Nashville had known that from the beginning. From the moment that damn pod had crash landed, from the blood that streaked his armor, half gone now, Nashville had known. Richmond was gone. Because if there was even a piece of his brother still living, Nash wouldn't be the one screaming his name, overturning bits of metal as if he'd magically find him waiting under one.

Richmond would have found him. Before Nash had even managed to open his eyes, Rich would have found him. That's who the guy was.

And he was gone.

But the last thing Nashville needed was some goddamn hunk of fucking wires telling him that.

"Shut up." The words came hoarsely. Nashville was struggling to turn over half of a pod that was charred and burned, the thing obviously having split apart upon entering the atmosphere. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. You're a goddamn piece of metal, you worthless stupid machine. So shut up."

They were the reason. The AI. He'd figured out that much. They were why they'd been hauled out into the ass end of the universe, they were why Richmond was gone. Why the ship was in pieces.

Why Nash was alone.

And he hated them. God, did he hate them.

[groundednash]

Aftermath [Escape Pod] (Open)

This wasn't how it was supposed to end. All the death he'd seen, all the blood and explosions and the Covenant ripping through soldiers like wet paper, Nashville had never once thought it'd end like this. 

And yet here they were. The Equinox was in pieces, half of it slaughtered across the ground, escape pods barely making it to the surface intact. His arm had gotten cut somewhere along the way, but that was hardly the first thing on Nashville's mind.

Richmond had been all the way across the ship when the Covenant had rammed them. Nashville had been on the comm with him, talking about... Fuck, what had they been talking about? Nothing. Something stupid. He'd bitched at Nash to clear the channel, Nashville had told him to pull the stick out of his ass, and then...

God, was that really the last thing he'd said to his brother?

No. No, he refused. Richmond was not dead. He was too ornery and stubborn to be dead.

Staggering out of his escape pod, Nashville barely looked at their surroundings. He was far too intense on searching through the few other pods, scanning faces just as battered and stunned as his own.

Rich wasn't there.

Turning at a run, Nashville made his way to the nearby wreckage of the downed Equinox. Fires were still burning, the random bits of metal twisted and hot enough to scald his hands. Nash didn't care. He was digging through scrap metal, shouting Richmond's name, over and over again. Frantic.

He had to be there. He had to be alive.

There wasn't another option.