Summary- Agent Washington was used to facing nightmares alone. But after joining Blue Team that has all changed.
[A/n]- Blue Team Fic! Just some good old comfort and Tuckington if you squint.
TW- nightmares, let me know if I missed anything
Running. Agent Washington was running with barely any air left in his lungs. He needed to get to her, she was walking away and no matter how hard he tried she was still too far. He had been here too many times before. Yet still he screams out her name. It was a guttural and broken mantra; “ALLISON!” over and over again. She couldn’t, no, wouldn’t hear. So why did he still try?
A sharp blue light flashed to his left and it was something terribly familiar. This is where the pain would start, where he knew he would wake up thrashing and screaming. This is the part that got him weird looks from Tucker and worry from Caboose. It has been months since the events of Sidewinder. They had let him into their base; into their ‘team’ even after everything and this is how he repays them? It’s not like the nightmares are new. Ever since Epsilon and all that happened when Freelancer was attacked, sleep wasn’t a luxury he could afford. Lost in his nightmares he swore he could hear his name being called over his screams of ‘No!’ and ‘Don’t leave’s. The voice sounded frantic, hurried.
Then finally, the feeling of being shaken hard dragged him out of the hell of a nightmare (Memories?). The lingering plea fading in his ears as all he could hear was the rushing of his blood.
“Don’t say goodbye.”
He shot up pushing his back to the wall, panic in his every move, wildly grabbing for the knife he keeps under his pillow. It was in his hand before he could comprehend the scene in front of him. Tucker sat in front of him, crouched so he was eye level with Wash on his bunk. Behind him in the doorway stood a tired looking Caboose. Tucker's features were weighed heavily with concern. Fuck. He didn’t mean to wake them. Wait, how did they get in here? The door was locked. Wash took a second glance at the door and to his surprise it had been kicked open. He took a minute to slow his breathing and looked at Tucker and all he could say was “I’m sorry,” and that had seemed to stop Tucker in his place. “I’m sorry I woke you two up. I’ll be fine, please go back to sleep.”
“Oh that’s bullshit! You wake us up screaming bloody murder like you’re being attacked and then expect us not to come running?!” Tucker stood abruptly, “And then we wake you and there's a knife in your hand. Dude what the fuck was that?” His voice had taken on this higher pitch, stress. He had stressed him out. Caboose moved in the corner of his eye and Wash’s grip on the knife tightened, then it loosened as reality came crashing back onto him. Looking at Caboose Wash started to get up. He needed coffee because there was no way he was going to be about to sleep after this. Tucker and Caboose shared a glance and backed up, allowing him to walk to the door. He made a mental note to fix it sometime today. He didn’t even know what time it was.
Walking into the kitchen he was aware of the two behind him, they seemed to be minding his space, he appreciated that. Looking at the clock on the stove it read 04:07. In all comparison to his usual 02:00 wakings it meant he had actually slept in. Turning back to Tucker he motioned towards the coffee pot, silently asking if he wanted some. Tucker shook his head yes and moved to grab the cups and sugar. This entire time Caboose hadn’t spoken a word but Wash could notice his constant fidgeting, like he wanted to speak but decided to observe instead. Wash took a breath and leaned on the island in the middle of the kitchen. He knew he’d have to explain eventually but he wasn’t even so sure he could. It wasn’t even his own memories that he saw. Sometimes he couldn’t even tell what was his or theirs. Sometimes he’d wake up and think he was back in Freelancer or prison again.
Lost in his thoughts he didn’t even notice that Caboose had moved. He felt a hand reaching for his shoulder and flinched. The hand withdrew quickly. Wash looked up from the hole he had been staring into the island counter to see a guilty looking Caboose. “Something you need?” is what he wanted to say but instead it came out a quiet “I’m sorry.” Caboose looked almost startled. “There’s nothing to say sorry for Agent Washington.” He said in a tired tone. “Sometimes I dream of the bad people too. Wash opened his mouth to comfort him but before he could get a single syllable out the sound of someone setting glass down heavily stopped him. Looking in front of him he saw Tucker staring directly at him. There were many different emotions swirling in his eyes: annoyance, tiredness, but more prominently concern.
“If I have to hear ‘I'm sorry’ one more goddamn time I’m going to throw this mug at you. You had a bad dream, shit happens. I don’t know why I let Caboose talk me into letting you stay all those months ago but you’re here now and we deal with our own.” Tucker’s voice was rising again now. “You don’t have to tell us shit but at least acknowledge there are others here for you and shit!”
Wash didn’t know what to say so he just took the coffee mug in hand and nodded his head. That seemed to be enough because Tucker took his own mug from the countertop and stalked into the living area. Turning his head to Caboose he wasn’t surprised to find that he had fallen asleep right where he stood. Deciding not to wake him up, Washington walked outside and sat against the front wall of the base. His coffee was too bitter, it did not nearly have the amount of sugar it would if he himself had made it. He drank it anyway, fearing the words that would come out if he had to face them again. He combed through the two soldiers' words and quickly realized no one had told him that they cared for him since he had met North. And then he had found himself caring for the duo and somehow also for the eccentric red team across the canyon.
After his cup had been long empty he decided it was time to start his day. Returning back inside he made his way to the kitchen once again. Caboose was gone, most likely back in his own bunk. Placing his cup in the sink he made his way to his own bunk, planning on fixing the door after getting properly dressed. Itching to put on the armor that had become his second skin. That’s when he spotted Tucker already fixing the door back in place, his locs tied back into a bun. The sight itself fixed a feeling he hadn’t known in a long time to his chest. He’d unpack that later. So instead he chose to say “Hey I was going to get that, but thank you.”
Tucker reaches to open and close the door as if testing his handiwork. “Meh, figured since we broke the damn thing down I might as well fix it,” he pauses, “Plus I was hoping your brooding would take longer.”
There was a moment of silence that overcame the space between them.
“I wasn’t broodin-”
“Oh yes the fuck you were.”
“Whatever.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Tucker started, “I probably shouldn’t have yelled at you. Nightmares take a lot out of a person. But yeah, like, we’re here for you and all that sappy bullshit. Now I really want breakfast before Caboose wakes up again. You want some?”
“Yeah sure. Just, let me get my armor on.”
“Bet. Give me twenty minutes.”
It was then that Agent Washington thought, maybe this wasn’t so bad.
Narvi was at the coffee shop. It was finally a good day outside, and Eloise was old enough to go out into the world without Narvi getting paranoid that she was going to catch every virus under the sun. So Narvi was a little overprotective, but today they were going to enjoy the sun.
And coffee was the best solution to everything. The blond walked outside with coffee and a food bag in one hand and a baby carrier in the other. One table was free, next to a woman but Eloise was generally quiet, so she took the spot with a small sigh. “Oh, what a day.”
