Damien could feel Carlos grimace at the thought of putting barbecue sauce onto vegan chicken and nothing makes him smile more. Though, the amount of things Tango puts in his body really is concerning—maybe he should go to Keller? Or the Tango equivalent of a doctor? A NASA space doctor? He should probably ask Beth to get him a doctor’s appointment or something.
“Not-chicken tastes like chicken, but sadder,” Damien sighs at this, shaking his head. This health kick makes his head hurt, but the things he does. “Don’t tell Carlos I said that—I’m still convinced this’ll blow over. Maybe you could just eat the not-meat? For me?”
“TASTE... SAD?”
Tango tilts his head, confused by this notion. How does not-chicken taste sad? Does sad have a taste? Do other foods taste like other emotions? What does happy taste like? Or mad? Or bored?
“TANGO EAT... SAD NOT-CHICKEN. FOR DAMIEN,” he assures. He does not understand why that is important either, but if it matters to Damien and/or Carlos, Tango is happy to eat whatever’s put in front of him. For instance: those rosebushes. They look tasty. But aside from the topic of food, of which Tango is admittedly single-minded: “HOW... DAMIEN? TEN MONTH. DO WHAT? DAMIEN... HAPPY?”
will hadn’t stopped thinking about the last mission, not even months after its file had been closed and archived, and the memorials had been built. he tried not to dwell on it, thought these attempts all failed. every day, will would stumble upon different sights he thought benji, addy and tango would enjoy. the three, along with cesare, naturally, would always feel like a part of the team, of the family – for that reason, it’d been impossible to fully let go of their memories, almost a year after their passing.
as he helped set the table, will even noticed himself counting three extra sets of cutlery and plates ( yes, even one for tango – for crunchiness’ sake ). but he disregarded the mistake as he forced himself to be present for the ones who were still around.
that being said, he almost cost the valentines’ a set of glasses, avoiding dropping them by the smallest bit. he could’ve sworn his heart skipped at beat at such familiar voice.
“tango!” will smiled, not even questioning whether this could merely be a hallucination. he didn’t need to: tango was here, alive and breathing. “i can’t believe that… that you’re here! how–? the portal closed behind you, and there was no time…. how did you make it back?”
Tango, in deference to humans and their easily breakable bones, does slow his momentum somewhat when he gets close to Will -- he still rams into Will’s knees with considerable force, though, hooking a paw around the back of Will’s leg so that he doesn’t topple over. In the absence of a tail to wag, his entire back half is wiggling, so pleased he’s practically vibrating on the spot.
“ON MISSION. TANGO GET... BAD MAN.” The memory of Arthur Klein is still nasty. “TANGO THROW... IN WINDOW. TO WILL. BAD MAN... DROP KNIFE,” he explains. “PORTAL-MAKE KNIFE. TANGO EAT. HAHA.” He hadn’t thought of anything beyond that at the time, just to get rid of the knife. And it had looked tasty. “TANGO GO... IN PORTAL. BAD AIR. BREATHE HARD. TANGO... COUGH. KNIFE... COME BACK. TANGO USE.”
The explanation is a little tiring, to use so many words. But he wants everyone to know!
“TANGO IN... CUBAS. LOST... LONG TIME. WALK HERE. BACK NOW.”
“Cuba?” she looks mildly impressed. “Can’t say I’ve ever been there before.” She rests her hands on her hips - a casual gesture of approval that she’s learned from the leaders on tv shows. She’d never really tried posturing with friends before, but now she found it quite fun. “Yeah, Tango. I’d say we are pretty good at protecting. Not just the other team members, but the whole world. I never would have seen it coming. All my assessments were wrong.”
“CUBAS... NICE. TANGO LIKE.”
He thinks he’d like to go back, some day. Now that he is Free, he thinks there are many places he’d like to go. Maybe he’ll have to figure out some sort list.
Tango tilts his head, trying to make sense of Eve’s statements. Had she thought that the team would not be able to save the world? That’s silly, of course they could. They did! Maybe Eve just needed to see it to believe it. That’s fair. Tango also needed to see some things before he believed them. Chocolate fountains, for instance.
“HOW... EVE? LONG TIME. TEN MONTH. WHAT EVE... DO NOW?”
Over the past three days Beth had kind of taken Tango in as her assistant / bodyguard. He was still recovering from his journey and she didn’t want him to leave her side, not even for a second, until she knew he was okay. She was still having trouble believing he was really there. But she was happy to pretend like the last ten months and the weight of his loss still weighed on her shoulders. She could just smile and act as if it never happened.
Beth slung herself into the front seat and turned the key in the ignition. the moment the car rumbled to life she pressed the button to roll down all the windows. “Of course buddy,” she said, “We’re going to Damien’s parent’s house to see the team. There’ll be lots of food there.” She pulled out of the driveway and began the short trip north.
Tango, of course, immediately sticks his head out the window. He was just outside, with the sun and the fresh air, and it doesn’t actually smell any different -- but it’s more exciting, being in the car and also outside. He likes when the car moves and the wind blows through his fur. It feels like he is moving very fast.
But he does stick his head back in to say, “DAMIEN-PARENT... HOUSE?” He remembers it fondly, even if most of the team had been injured when they’d gone. It had been warm and full of comfortable things.
Addy had been there too. They had played in the back yard.
It’s been a strange last few months, coping with the loss, the change, alll the upheaval, but brunch at Damien’s had become a figure of normalcy in her life. Zia had begun to make the rounds saying ‘hello’ to her former teammates, when an all-too-familiar figure catches her attention.
“Tango!” she exclaims completely surprised, pulling him into a tight hug. She certainly hadn’t been expecting him, but it’s a more than welcome surprise, nonetheless. “I can’t believe it…it’s so good to see you…I’ve missed you so much!”
Tango is all too happy to be pulled into a hug, vibrating with a rumble loud enough that it nearly drowns out Zia’s words.
He’d missed them too. He’s spent months making his way back home, through wilderness and back streets, and now that he’s here he almost can’t believe it. They’re here, and he’s here, and they can be a family again. He doesn’t know what the future holds, now that the team has gone in their separate directions, but he hopes he can keep seeing them.
“TANGO MISS. ZIA ALSO. LONG TIME.” He shoves his nose into her hands, snuffling, reacquainting himself. “TANGO WALK... LONG. TO HERE. TANGO HAPPY.”
“Since you said please, I’ll let it slide.” Truth be told, Damien would have given him the damn barbecue sauce if he so much as whimpered—he was a weak, weak man. At least his mother didn’t catch Tango, better Damien than the withering gaze of an old history professor.
Damien slides the bottle of A1 towards him, rolling his eyes all the while; this has got to be, Tango’s third? Fifth bottle? He couldn’t keep count. “You use this bottle for the—the meat, right? Don’t tell me you just drink the sauce, bud. That’s gotta be at least a concerning amount for you to drink.”
“THANK,” Tango rumbling, vibrating in delight as he carefully takes the bottle between his paws, holding it reverently. He wonders if he should inform Damien that he does not drink the sauce, he eats it with the bottle. But he will do as he’s told, and save this one for the meat. “TANGO EAT... ANY. ALL. TANGO EAT... PORTAL KNIFE. BARBE--CUE SAUCE... EASY. FOR EAT.”
Pfft. As if sauce, in any amount, would be a concerning amount.
“PUT ON... NOT-CHICKEN.” Carlos has explained to him that the chicken he provided Tango was, in fact, not chicken. Tango doesn’t understand. Carlos is nice but has done a confusing thing, but Tango will go with it and called it not chicken.
It almost seems strange, being truly back in civilization. Tango has spent months in wilderness, lost, and then more months trying to find his way home. But as much as he liked the forest, with the small animals and the big animals and the waterfalls and the freedom, he is happy to be back in the city. It’s the only home he’s ever known.
The team is the only home he’s ever known.
Some of them, he’s seen already. Beth, obviously. Damien. But he doesn’t think the others have been informed. Maybe they wanted to keep it as a surprise, when Tango comes to the barbecue party? Tango likes surprises too, so he will do his best to oblige.
“SUR--PRISE,” he roars, running full-tilt at the first person he sees at the party. He hopes they recognize him -- he’s been told he’s gone a bit more grey, which might be very confusing for them! “TANGO BACK. HAHA.”
“Tango, please don’t hog the barbecue sauce—I got you several bottle already.”
A creature with no eyes and no real mouth expression other than open or shut shouldn’t seem to have a way to look guilty, but somehow, Tango manages, freezing in the act of inching a paw toward the bottles.
He makes a wretched, mournful moan. “ONE MORE. FOR TANGO. PLEASE,” he begs, but dutifully moves his paw away from the bottles. How much barbecue sauce could a group of humans feasibly want? Could they even finish one bottle between them? Damien has been very kind, providing extra sauce for him, but clearly he has not anticipated the depths of Tango’s need. “TANGO... HUNGER.”
she flips down the seats to the back of her bureau issued (beth issued) black suv and wipes the spare dog fur off her hands, knowing that it’s a futile attempt, the whole back of her car would be coated by the end of the day. she was practically a regular at the car wash, vacuuming out dog and mutant fur. “alright boys,” she calls to tango and ranger, “load up!”
Tango has perfected the art of the flying leap into the backseat -- carefully, with his claws tucked in, and not so fast. If he had a tail, it would be wagging as hard as Ranger’s. As it is, he makes do with happy rumbling, a hulking shape taking up most of the SUV’s back seat. Ranger has to be content with a small portion off the side.
“GO WHERE,” he asks, poking his head through the gap in the front seats. He is so pleased that Beth is the director now. Thinking back, he’s not sure he ever would have pictured that possibility, but now that it is true, it seems made to be. She will be an excellent director. “WINDOW... OPEN? FOR TANGO?” It’s the best part of car rides!
“it’s good to see you tango,” she says, “where have you been? are you beginning to understand what i meant when i said i had to go away to protect the team?”
Yes, Tango does understand now. He hadn’t understood before, though he’d accepted the explanation -- now, he gets it.
“TANGO IN... CUBAS,” he replies, excited. “LAND IN... ISLAND. TAKE BOAT. COME HERE. MANY MONTH. TANGO MISS. TEAM.” So now that Eve has died and come back, and Tango has died and come back, he wonders how long it will take Addy, Cesare and Benji to come back. He misses them also. But he knows he will see them again. “TANGO... UNDER--STAND. EVE REASON. FOR PROTECT. EVE ALSO... GOOD. AT PROTECT.”
Tango leaps into the portal, and there’s a strange fuzzy sensation before he lands on the other side.
The air is thick and stifling; he draws in a careful breath, and can feel his lungs strain with the effort. He thinks he was right about being able to last a few minutes, but he does not waste time. He lumbers toward the second switch, hearing the distant shrieks of portal-beasts; he wraps both paws around the lever, and hauls it back.
The portal fluctuates for a few seconds, then winks out of existence.
He is stranded on the other side.
Tango plops down to sit, head turned toward the empty portal frame. It hits him, then, that he won’t be able to go home. He knew it, but now he really knows it. No more family. No more burgers. No more barbecue sauce. The team has lost Cesare and Addy and now they will lose him too.
“GOOD TANGO,” he tells himself, rumble coming out thin, the harsh air starting to clog his lungs. What little he has of his vision is starting to dim, breathing coming out harsh and jagged.
He thinks he does not mind, dying this way.
He was good. He protected his family.
And now, as he starts coughing through the poisonous air, he knows he did the right thing. His family will be sad, but they are alive.
Tango’s breath hitches, staggering into a throat-tearing cough. His hearing fills with buzzing noises. Something works its way up into his throat, something sharp. He coughs again, splutters--
And spits out Klein’s extradimensional knife.
Seconds away from suffocating, Tango doesn’t have time to think. He grabs it between his fangs, and jerks his head sharply sideways.
A rift cuts itself open in the air.
Tango staggers through.
december, 2003
somewhere in isla de la juventud, cuba
Tango lands in a forest.
For long minutes, all he can do is sprawl on a bed of dead leaves and breathe, sucking oxygen back into his lungs. His injuries from the fight have stopped bleeding, but he is exhausted.
He sleeps there, half-burrowed into the ground for defense. He sleeps for two days, his physiology working overtime to heal his throat and lungs -- he wakes only to snap and devour passing small rodents. He is a ball of black fur, curled up on the forest floor, slowly accumulating leaves.
When he wakes properly, he marvels at the fact that he’s alive. He’d been sure he would die, but Tango is strong! And good!
Tango is also very lost.
september, 2004
the newly rebuilt bureau headquarters, dc
It is a long ten months.
Tango walks through trees and scrub. He gets lost many times. He goes in circles, until he figures out to head to higher ground to see if he can spot civilization.
He finds it, but he does not speak the language, and people tend to either leave very quickly or not understand what he says. It’s only a very small town that he finds at first, and it takes him time to find a larger city. Many months.
(He misses his family, but he does not mind living outside. He is free. He chases animals and stands under waterfalls and follows interesting smells for days on end.)
He finds someone that recognizes him, and speaks the same language he does, and he is given a spot on a small boat. Tango discovers he is very good at catching fish on the way to America. There, he walks some more, staying out of sight of people. It is harder to find home than he expected.
But find it he does.
What he also finds is a large statue that he thinks kind of looks like him. Standing in front of it is Beth, and Ranger, and a familiar scent.
will had always liked tango’s questions, even if he hated answering some of them. the thing was, that he was often able to point out observations will missed. he was prone to doubting his confident speech around tango the most out of the team. now, when tango asked about closing the portal, will fell ever so speechless.
he didn’t know why he was feeling heat in his face. press conferences went fine, mostly, but maybe they did because will always had a speech to fall back onto if all else failed. there was always a teleprompter or cue cards for him to read off of. now, with cesare and moira gone, and the team having long ventured into unknown territory, he knew he had to be more careful with his words.
“you’re right. i’m hoping the adrenaline and the fighting will keep us warm. but i’m sure they wouldn’t leave the portal unattended – if they really unveil it inside, they’ll guard it and stay within the mansion all throughout,” will nodded. he rubbed his hands again, feeling some cold seep through the layers anyway. “if only benji and keller were here to help us with that. i.. honestly don’t know for sure. we’re expecting the portal to be connected to some sort of main system – likely a computer or device. if we can effectively turn that off and keep it from restarting, i’d hope the portal would close.”
“i don’t even know what to expect in there. we don’t want to miss anything that might be important come time for the big reveal. if anything remotely suspicious happens out here, you’ll call out to us, ‘kay?”
Tango absorbs this solemnly. He doesn’t know much about computers, much less computers that make a portal activate. All he knows about computers is how to very gently pat at the ‘mouse’ until he sees pictures of friends-with-fur-who-also-like-cheeseburger, and he’s not sure how that would make a portal work. It’s all a bit beyond him, so he is glad to have very smart people like Will.
He knows Will will find a way to close the portal and save the planet. That’s what Will does. Because he is Captain Kick.
“TANGO CALL,” he confirms, shaking off some snow.
He pauses for thought, then smiles wide.
“IF COMP--UTER... HARD. TO SHUT. OFF. TANGO... SMASH.”
A light chuckle falls from Zia’s lips as Tango makes known of his food desires. “I will certainly keep an eye out for any burgers, but I’m afraid I can’t make any assurances on that front,” Zia replies, “But I’m sure they’ll have some combination of meat and bread floating around,” she promises, reasonably impressed with Tango’s pronunciation of hors d’oeuvres.
“I’ll keep my ears perked,” Zia nods, “But please be safe out there, Tango…” she adds, stroking her fingers against Tango’s fur, worriedly, “Promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”
He just hopes they’ll have enough time for Zia to sneak some food out to him. If this goes sideways, as they say, there may be a lot of fighting very soon. Surely there’ll be time for some food before that, right?
At the pat, he cranes his head up to ‘look’ at her, parting his jaws in his own vaguely terrifying version of a smile. “TANGO STAY... SAFE,” he assures. He doesn’t think there’ll be a lot of danger outside. He thinks the danger is most likely inside. “ZIA ALSO. STAY SAFE. WARM. TANGO COME... IF DANGER. TANGO PROTECT.”
“it’s okay. i haven’t found much either, tango,” will nodded. still, in the face of such shortcomings, he refused to be disappointed so early on. “but i think something will come up. i trust eve and i’m sure we followed we right course of action coming here. the reason we haven’t recognized anyone in there yet is maybe cause it’s only once the portal is unveiled that the people running the operation will come out along with it. it’s just a matter of waiting, i s’pose.”
rubbing his hands together to keep the cold from turning them numb, will considered tango’s question for a moment. if he were being honest, he didn’t know. the plans devised on the way here and the one that’d be put in motion could be alarmingly different come the time to act. he didn’t want to formulate idealized strategies or offer impulsive ideas just yet.
“if monsters come through the portal, then i’d want for you to jump in there–” as he spoke, he made sure to look around and avoid any eavesdropper; at the moment, the coast remained clear– “and do the same thing you did last time, even more. we don’t know how many people might be behind all of this, so depending on that we might have to split accordingly: some of us will be wiping out the creatures, and the rest will try to close the portal to keep more of ‘em from coming in.”
“how’s that sound? are you ready to take down more of those things if it comes to that tonight?”
Halfway through Will’s orders, Tango tilts his head, confusion clear. Jump in there? Jump in... the portal? Or jump in... to help fight the monsters?
As Will keeps talking, it seems he means the latter. What Tango did last time was what he does best: smashing the monsters. But what if Will does want him to jump into the portal? Tango can do that! Tango is stronger than fur-less, fang-less humans! But maybe he would be more help if he stayed and fought the monsters? Hmm. This is why he needs Will to do the planning-ahead. It is very confusing. Too many options.
“YES. TANGO READY,” he rumbles, gnashing his teeth as if to confirm the fact. Given the fact that he’s still buried up to his nose in snow, it probably doesn’t look as fearsome as he wants it to. “TANGO TRY... KEEP MONSTER. INSIDE. TEAM... FIGHT BAD. IN SNOW. NEED WARM.” He can only imagine how disastrous it would be if they tried to fight out here. They’d all freeze first! “TANGO SMASH... MANY MONSTER. FOR PROTECT. WHILE TEAM... CLOSE PORTAL.” He pauses. “HOW... CLOSE PORTAL? CAP KNOW?”
She nods, looking at his fur covered face. Beth’s warm smile flutters for a moment as she notices strands of white and gray peeking up around his muzzle and where she assumed his eyes were. She’d never noticed that before, and for a moment she thought perhaps it was just the snow. But as she peered at him it was clear that he was aging. She didn’t know he could.
Swallowing down the feeling of sadness gripping her throat as the mortality of her teammate dawned upon her, she decided not to say anything on the subject.
“If you find the portal, just roar. We all know the sound very well and we’ll come find you. Sound good?”
Tango nods solemnly. It’s a good plan, because he is very good at roaring, and very loud.
He just hopes he doesn’t cause chaos inside, if he needs to alert them that way. Causing panic in a crowd of humans is a dangerous thing. He has been extensively informed of this.
“OKAY,” he agrees. “TANGO GIVE... ROAR SIGNAL. IF FIND.” Here, he pauses, tilting his head, perplexed. “WHAT IF... TEAM FIND? INSIDE? TEAM... ROAR? FOR TANGO?”
Well, that’s a welcome surprise. Tango can read Russian—maybe it’s some of that mutant genetic material evolving, but the deus ex machina wasn’t going to go unnoticed, and unthanked. Damien ran his hand through Tango’s fur, smiling all the while. Maybe he really should get Tango a badge; he’d have to take it up with the chief, but who wouldn’t want him on their side?
“Detective Tango,” he replied, his smile matching Tango’s own, albeit less terrifying. “I think you just cracked this case wide open. Let’s get to Eve—I think she’s going to want to see these.”
Detective Tango.
Tango’s jaws part in awe, all of his fur puffing up in excitement. He is a detective, like Damien! He helped find a clue!
“TANGO... HELP SOLVE,” he announces proudly. “TANGO GOOD AT... DETECT. HAHA.” Rumbling like a car engine, he rams into Damien’s knees as a thank you, and begins to amble his way out of the room, head held high, on the way to go find Eve.
For once Zia was grateful for the skin-tight nature of her costume. In cases like these, it was much easier to slip something on top without feeling too constricted or bulky. Smoothing the wrinkles of the dress, Zia did a slight twirl to check for any betrayals of her costume underneath. Feeling mostly satisfied, she steps away from the mirror, but is stopped in her tracks by the gentle pat of Tango.
A warm smile forms on Zia’s lips as Tango mentions food. For all his intimidating exterior, Tango always managed to put Zia’s nerves at ease and tonight was no exception.
“Absolutely,” Zia promises, “I’ll sneak something back for you in my bag…anything specific you want that I should keep an eye out for?” she asks, “I’m sure there will be plenty of hors d'oeuvres to go around.”
“BURGER,” Tango answers promptly, because that’s always his answer when asked what kind of food he wants. As far as he’s aware, burgers are the single greatest human achievement. They have everything. Meat. Cheese. Bread. Cardboard packaging.
He doesn’t know if a fancy party like this will be serving burgers, but it’s worth a try, right?
“BUT. OR DOVER... GOOD ALSO,” he assures, because he can’t quite wrap his jaws around hors d’oeuvres. Will Zia be able to fit the food into her bag? He hopes so. He also hopes nobody catches her stealing. “JUST LISTEN... FOR TANGO. ROAR. SIGNAL OF... PORTAL. IF TANGO FIND.”
