daylight
chapter 2: can you spare any mercy that you might find
post DS2 AU Higgs x f!OC
Content tags: +18!, slow burn, angst, (kinda) enemies to lovers, dark and mature themes (mentions of death, injuries), Higgs is a bit pathetic and sad, redemption arc, Fragile is alive because I said so
Synopsis: The crew takes a much needed break in Capital Knot City. Tensions arise when it's time to decide Higgs' fate.
SERIES MASTERLIST
A/N: Tensions are through the roof! I thrive in slow burn angst <3
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Her assigned private cabin in the Capital Knot City’s facilities was probably the closest to a five star hotel room that Ash would ever experience, at least from her perception of a five star hotel, that she got from the records of the old world.
Her room, although pretty standard, was spacious and impeccably clean, and had all the amenities she could have asked for: snacks, energy drinks, and a shower with steaming hot water. The bed was big enough that she could sprawl on it, a luxury she hadn’t experienced since long before joining the crew of the DHV Magellan. She couldn’t exactly complain about the ship’s conditions, as she had definitely slept in worse places. But a little glimpse of the life of the upper class wouldn’t hurt her.
Ash entered the shower, allowing the hot water to run down her body and ease some of the tension on her shoulders. Her thoughts wandered back to the man that remained confined to a smaller, less luxurious cabin in the Magellan.
They had yet to have a proper talk with Die-Hardman; as it turned out, he had many pressing matters to attend to, and informed the crew — via Charlie — that he would be joining them as soon as it was possible. In the meantime, the crew was to enjoy the facilities of Capital Knot City’s underground complex.
For that reason, they deemed it better for Higgs to remain in the ship until they could properly explain the situation to the former President. And also for the fact that they couldn't ensure a safe transport from one site to the other.
Tarman had stayed in the ship, parked inside the distribution center, preoccupied with the many fixes that it needed in order to safely travel further on, and he offered to keep an eye on Higgs.
Ash had noticed that putting some distance between them and their prisoner had made Fragile more at ease, at least seemingly so. Perhaps the prospect of no longer having to care for a terrorist on board, brought by the promise of telling Die-Hardman what was going on, relieved some of her tension. Ash even managed to entertain some light conversation with her before they were guided to their respective private rooms, but she feared that small talk on the improvement of their food situation would be the most she would get out of the blonde woman.
As the artificial scent of vanilla from the shower gel invaded her senses and the water washed away the remnants of the day, she decided that she should visit the ship soon; that way Tarman could take a break and have a proper rest. Although he wouldn't admit it, the older man definitely needed it, and seeing as things were, Ash knew no one else would offer to take guard.
Ash dressed up and walked up in the direction of the parking lot, carrying a spare pizza that she was able to get from the facility's kitchen. She passed by Sam and Fragile's shared cabin, as well as Tomorrow's and Heartman’s on the way there. Rainy was caught up in medical examinations; Die-Hardman had left specific indications to the facility's staff to take her to a doctor, where she could be properly checked after the time spent on the Beach. Tomorrow, Ash and Fragile had given her reassuring smiles. Hopefully her child would be okay, although the nature of the Stillbaby Syndrome was yet to be deciphered.
Arriving at the ship, she immediately saw Tarman hunched over the beeping panel in the bridge. She smiled to herself, watching the old man covered in tar, completely focused on the task at hand. Upon noticing her, the small tar-cat sprinted to her, brushing against her legs and scrunching the little nose in the air at the smell of pizza.
“Nah nah, not for you, little one,” she said jokingly, and caressed the black cat in the middle of its ears.
“I see that I ought to clean up as well,” Tarman exclaimed, eyeing the pizza box in her hands. “You’re here for a… delivery?”
“I figured he’s probably hungry, like the rest of us. Like you,” she mentioned.
“You okay here on your own?” he asked. Tarman always had a sort of caring approach to everyone on board, seeing as he was old enough to be their father. It never came off as patronizing, though.
“Don’t worry,” she assured him, “I’ve had worse.”
Tarman gave her a small nod and patted her on the back as he walked past, tar-cat fast in his trail.
Ash moved on to Higgs’ cabin, not without passing by the armoury and grabbing a small handgun that she concealed on the back of her cargo pants. She didn’t believe that the terrorist would attempt anything against her, but it didn’t hurt to be careful.
With the gun secured on her, she stood in front of his room, and remembered her breathing exercises when she felt her heart rate speed up.
Ash entered the room and noticed the faint steam coming out of the small shower while Higgs was standing up, clean utility pants on and a black singlet on his hands. His eyes shone at the smell of pizza.
“Tell me that’s a Meat Lover,” he asked, immediately dropping the top on the bed and taking the box from Ash’s hands, opening it.
“I’m afraid a Hawaiian will have to do it,” she replied. Ash fought the urge to laugh at the way he stumbled against the bed, nearly falling on it in his urge to devour the pizza.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” he said, in the midst of swallowing half a slice down his throat, “and I’m a starving man.”
Ash took a step closer, assessing him: sitting on the bed, shirtless, she saw that his wounds were almost fully healed and the bruises that adorned his skin were slowly fading.
His face was washed, no trace of the dark winged eyeliner he usually wore, and Ash thought his eyes looked even more blue without the heavy shadow of the makeup. He also had trimmed his stubble and his long brown hair, grown past his shoulders, was clean and shiny.
She thought it was the most presentable — and human looking — that she had ever seen him.
“I see you've showered,” Ash said.
Higgs looked up, his eagerness to eat subsiding after having taken care of a familiar sized pizza in a matter of minutes. “So did you,” he said with a smirk. He grabbed the last slice to take a bite. “I see you're being well treated in the Capital, Miss Vanilla.”
Ash felt the rubor rushing to her cheeks. She took pride in not being an easily impressed woman, and it bothered her that his flirting was getting to her head.
“We get what we deserve,” she retorted while folding her arms. She also hated that she felt the need to be so defensive around him.
Higgs chuckled. “Oh no, we don't, or I wouldn't be here, eating this meal from the heavens while being watched by an angel.” He winked.
“Guess you're right,” she said, “maybe we've been too kind and we should have left you there.”
He flinched slightly, “wouldn't be the first time. Well, not you,” he corrected, pointing at her, “but your crew had no interest in saving this poor soul of mine.”
“We’re all still wondering if it can be saved.”
He eyed her, and sat back on the bed, pushing the empty box aside with a sad smile on his face. “It doesn’t matter,” he continued, “I’ll meet my end soon when I’m executed by your friends.”
Ash gave him a look.
“What? Think the UCA will create a jail for little ol’ me? The very same person that tormented, nuked, and cold-blood murdered so many of its precious citizens? You’re dreamin’, darling.” He sighed before continuing, “but, I must say, these last few days have been endlessly entertaining. Thank you very much for indulging.”
She rolled her eyes, “no wonder they left you there. You’re a bit of a nuisance, you know that?”
Higgs laughed, out loud and without malice. He stood up and walked slowly towards her, a smile on his face. Ash remained in her position: she was more than used to intimidation tactics, though she wondered if he was really seeking to intimidate her, or simply searching for any form of connection.
“Oh sweetheart,” he said, approaching her, voice low and filled with honey, “I wish we had met earlier. We could have had so much fun.”
He stopped then, standing right in front of her, head slightly dipped lower to study her face. Ash noticed he was tall before, but the way he towered over her was unnerving. There was that anxiety again, creeping beneath her skin and rising to her chest. But at that time it wasn’t anxiety alone, or fear; there was a hint of something else, something she wouldn’t dare name just yet, but it was exciting.
Ash unfolded her arms, reaching smoothly behind her to feel the handgun still strapped on her back, attempting to feel grounded and prepared for action if he dared to get closer or try an escape.
Up close, she could see the boyish glint of his ocean coloured eyes, the bright gold of his tattoos and how he briefly licked his chapped lips to moisturize them. His eyes drifted to the arm she was hiding behind her back.
“Damn shame,” he muttered. “Still I wonder, what compels you to try this hard for me?”
She scoffed. He really thought she was doing it for him, and for him alone? The ego that man had, she thought. She wasn’t doing it more to him than she was doing it for herself.
I can’t have another death on my shoulders.
Had he not listened to her?
Before she could even answer, Higgs chuckled, and turned around from her abruptly, raising a pointing finger in the air. “But! Whatever the reason, I hear the judges are deliberating! You should go.”
Without much time to process his words, Ash left the room, locking it, leaving a laughing Higgs behind her.
She sprinted back to the main facility, and arrived just in time to hear Die-Hardman’s incredulous voice:
“What am I to do with a terrorist?!”
Ash got in the room where the crew was gathered, trying to remain unnoticed but, obviously, all eyes drifted to her momentarily.
“No, seriously,” he continued, “You bring that man over here and expect me to do what with him?”
“There must be something you can do!,” Sam interjected.
“Perhaps lock him up,” added Tarman, with a tired look on his face. It seemed he didn't have much time to rest, being dragged into the impromptu meeting.
“Or set up a court to properly judge him for his crimes,” Ash said.
Die-Hardman rubbed his face in his hands. He looked absolutely exasperated at the crew’s decision of bringing along Higgs and expecting him to take care of that problem.
Fragile looked the most distressed at the prospect of not getting rid of him that easily. She took a step closer to him and yelled, “you don't understand. You have to do something!”
Die-Hardman sighed, placing his hands on his hips. He looked sincere as he said: “look, I get your point. We should be rebuilding and what not but, right now, I can’t possibly take that burden off your shoulders. It’s far too early to reintroduce a justice system in the UCA, we don’t have capacity for that.” He turned around in his step, throwing his hands in the air, “we’re not even sure that’s the way to go. Should we continue to waste our resources on that? It wasn’t doing any good in the old world. Maybe this is not the way to go forward. I’m sorry to say this, but,” he paused before continuing, “you should have left him there.”
“Then kill him!,” Fragile cried out, desperate. “You can order it! Get the military to do it!”
Sam reached his hand out to Fragile in an attempt to calm, but she brushed it off. Out of the corner of her eye, Ash saw him flinch at her aggressiveness.
On the other side of the room, Tomorrow and Rainy remained silent.
“I can’t order his death.” Die-Hardman shook his head, “and this story can’t leave this room.”
He looked around the room, eyeing each one of the members of the crew.
“I’m about to get reelected President and I can’t deal with a scandal like this, got it?”
When the crew remained silent, he repeated his question, more sternly, pointing his finger: “got it?”
The crew nodded silently, except for Fragile, who remained still, brooding. She eyed Ash, and the latter could feel the venom in the way she looked at her.
“Now, I don't care how you solve this issue, but solve it,” the former President continued, “and about the mission I briefed you on…”
Fragile interrupted him, “we stay here until tomorrow and then we leave for Edge Knot City. We'll keep you updated.”
The professional facade of the commander couldn't fool Ash, especially when she knew that the hate she was trying to conceal was directed at her, too. She sent Ash a look that screamed “this is your problem, you better solve it” before she stormed out of the room.
Ash kept tossing and turning in the comfortable bed of her assigned room, unable to sleep as her mind kept recreating the events of that day, from her visit to Higgs to the reunion with Die-Hardman.
She was conjuring all the different scenarios that their arrangement could go through, and none of them seemed to have a happy ending. The way she saw it, either someone was going to kill Higgs, or he would escape before they got a chance to.
Higgs.
Higgs, Higgs, Higgs.
Why was he the sole object of her thoughts lately?
Certainly it could only be because she felt responsible for that whole situation, guilty even — but only to an extent. It was true that she advocated for them to spare his life, but it had been a decision of the crew and she couldn't be expected to carry that burden by herself.
Still, it was obvious that Fragile was blaming her for the state of affairs they were in, and Sam would support her no matter what, even more then that they were together. Tarman, although empathetic, wasn’t someone who actively looked for conflicts; and Heartman certainly wouldn’t contradict his long time friend, Sam. As for Tomorrow… together with Fragile, she was probably the one that had the most against Higgs, but still seemed to have some kind of respect for him and, being close with Ash, would probably support her. Rainy could be on her side too.
The odds weren’t in her favor.
She lay on her back, wide awake, eyeing the ceiling of the pitch black room. Although the smell of vanilla still lingered in the air, other feelings, which she couldn’t seem to get rid of, assaulted her senses and prevented her from having a proper rest.
The heavy dizziness of a steam filled room after a hot shower.
The mouth watering taste of a freshly baked meat pizza.
The intoxicating smell of chiralium.
The deepness of those ocean blue eyes.
What compels you to try this hard for me?
She punished herself for not being quick enough in her answer, replaying the scene over and over in her head and the million ways that she could have gotten back to him. She should have disregarded it, she should have put him in his place and crushed the remnants of the ego that that man still had. She never had a problem doing it; throughout her career, she had to deal with men with big egos on the daily, and she would seize every opportunity to make sure they understood she wasn’t easily intimidated by it.
Why was it different with him? And why did the fact that it was different with him made her excited?
Ash sighed, turning to her side for the nth time that night. She looked at the handgun in her nightstand: she had forgotten to put it back in the armoury, and couldn't possibly bring herself to go back there after the talk with Die-Hardman, so she decided to keep it for a while.
It couldn't hurt to be careful.
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