December 22nd. Despite the pleasant cap to the evening, sleep was rocky for Jason. With everything going on with Va'ynna, and Aylena's latest bout of trouble potentially putting a Redrock contract in limbo, it was a night of tossing and turning.
#RedrockAgency – February 26, 2020
Jason wakes at around 3AM. The sun hasn't even come up yet. There's a small flurry of snow just barely visible thanks to Litae's light through the slits in the blinds. The first moments after a particularly rough dream are always disorienting. It's like being woken up with a bucket of cold water. Or being ripped free from a pod of yellow sludge. There's a short burst of panic before his mind has fully awoken
and he quickly turns on his side, Vasquez always his first concern, like a siren blaring in his mind. She's safe. Sleeping. Peaceful. He swallows at the lump in his throat, just watching her sleep for the moment. For a while he focuses on the pattern of her breathing which helps to dispel a bit of that lingering panic. Afte the cold sweats pass he finds himself merely staring at her, unable to return to the unwelcoming
slumber he woke from as the shapes from his dream continue to dance in his head. He presses a small, gentle kiss against her head before slipping out of bed as quietly as he can. Not wanting to wake her, he quickly pulls on the pair of black cargo pants he left in a pile on the floor and grabs his boots before leaving the room as quietly as he can manage.
Vasquez sleeps soundly, body drained after a long day, and even her dreams are pleasant for once, disconnected glimpses of potential futures, fuelled by her conversation with the Matriarch. The ghosts of the past find no purchase tonight. The corner of her mouth tugs upward a little as Jason presses a kiss against her head. She sluggishly turns in her sleep, arm grasping for the comfort and warmth of the familiar weight next to
her. Only it hits empty sheets instead. That's all it takes for her eyes to start stirring, eyes opening to the empty space next to her. There's a spike of panic and disorientation as her mind is catapulted back to a month ago. To an empty bed and endless dread. She reflexively sits up and scans the couch for Cynthia before realizing that the space next to her is still warm. Jason is home. He's okay. He's here. She
closes her eyes and lets out a long breath, tension gradually leaving her body as she leans back against the cold headboard. It takes a couple of deep breaths before her heartbeat calms and everything slots into place. It's almost Christmas. They spent the evening cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie. She reaches over to her omni-tool on the bedside table, checking the time. She frowns at the numbers and slides out of
bed, far from eager to try and get back to sleep without her husband. She slips on some socks and her sweatpants, tying her messy hair back in a loose ponytail to keep it at bay before leaving the room in search of Jason.
There's a glow of soft blue light slipping into the hallway through the open rec room door as the glow of the TV spills out from the otherwise-dark room. Muted voices can be heard from the low volume of whatever is on inside.
Vasquez quietly walks up to stand in the doorway, arms folded loosely across her chest as she takes a look inside.
Jason is sat at the table. Dressed in the same black pants he wore the night before and his boots untied. His Phalanx and Revenant are splayed out on the table in front of him, broken down to their base parts, each one neatly laid out for easy reconstruction. He's not the tidiest of people when it comes to-... well, pretty much anything. But a soldier's weapons command a certain amount of respect. He relies on them to take care of
him so he, in turn, takes care of them. The news is on the TV. Something about some big new movie premiering at the Citadel. Seems things have finally moved away from nearly 24-7 Collector coverage. Sure, there's still an abundance of it, but that was last week's news. Old news doesn't get views. Jason doesn't seem to be paying it any mind. Just background noise and a little light to work by as he uses a wire brush to scrub
out the barrel of his Phalanx, holding it with a dinghy old rag, Vasquez' presence behind him goes unnoticed.
Vasquez frowns by the doorway, silently watching Jason work for a little while before stepping closer. She offers a soft "Hey..." before coming up behind him, planting her hands on his shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze as she studies the dismantled weaponry laid out on the table in front of him.
Jason startles a bit as he hears footsteps behind him, causing him to glance back over his shoulder. The sight of Vasquez causes a heavy, tired smile to cross his lips. "Hey." he offers in turn, gaze slipping back to the barrel in his hands. "I didn't wake you, did I?" he asks as he slides the wire brush through the barrel again, giving it one final once over.
Vasquez meets Jason's smile with a faint one of her own, leaning down to press a kiss against the top of his head as he turns back towards his work. "No... the bed just felt empty." she says, voice little more than a quiet murmur. Her hands remain where they are, rubbing his shoulders as she just watches him clean the barrel for a moment. She doesn't ask why he's up. After more than two years of sharing a bed, there's hardly any
Jason gives a small nod, briefly focused on his work until he's satisfied that it's as clean as it's gonna be. Setting the brush aside, he gets to work on wiping the barrel down with the dinghy old rag. "Sorry. I just-... uhh-..." he trails off briefly, not particularly wanting to get into whatever's troubling him. So he doesn't. "One of those nights, you know? Woke up and just couldn't get back to sleep." he says warily, feeling
the need to explain himself rather than sit in awkward silence. There's a heaviness to his tone that betrays his words. "Didn't wanna wake you so-..." he continues, lifting the barrel and turning it towards the television so he can use its light to peer down the barrel and make sure everything looks to be in order. "...figured I'd go ahead and get a start on my day until you got up and I could take a shower." Satisfied with
his work, he sets the barrel down and brings his hand up, clasping it over Vasquez'. The touch provides him little more than a gentle pressure, but it's better than nothing.
Vasquez lets out a quiet sigh, nodding in acknowledgement of his initial comments. Her hands remain where they are, doing her best to provide a comforting presence. "It's pretty early. Sure you don't want to come back to bed...?" she asks softly, tilting her head a little to study the side of his face. There's no pressure behind the question, just an offer, now that she's awake too, and he wouldn't be left alone with his thoughts
Jason gives her hand a gentle squeeze, thumb brushing back and forth over the backside of it as he absently scans over the parts strewn across the table. A bit of guilt settles in as he fails, once again, to voice his troubles. After all that talk about opening up to one another and leaning on each other, it still doesn't come easy for him. There's a few moments of silence as he struggles with it but, ultimately, shakes his head.
"Uhh-... no. No. You go ahead and get back to bed. Think I'm just up at this point." he says, propping up that heavy, lopsided smile of his that he so often uses to blanket whatever is bothering him. "Besides, I've already got all of this taken apart. Can't just... leave it like this, you know?"
Vasquez nods faintly, her expression understanding, but she makes no move to leave. Instead she gives Jason's neck a squeeze and slips off towards the kitchenette to pour herself a glass of milk. It has a greenish tinge on account of being spacecow milk, but she's adjusted to that by now. She digs around the cabinets until she finds a box of cheap, mass-produced gingerbread cookies probably shipped in from off-world in bulk for
the holidays. She takes a seat next to Jason, offering a small smile, the look on her face almost shockingly soft as she studies him. There's gentle concern in her vivid brown eyes, and old memories. "I'll keep you company."
Jason winces to himself as Vasquez steps away, that pang of guilt in his chest only sharpening. But his expression quickly turns to one of confusion when he realizes Vasquez is on her way to the kitchenette. As she pours herself a glass of milk it becomes clear that she has no intention of leaving, a fact confirmed by her words when she rejoins him. He offers another weak smile and a small nod of his head. "Yeah... alright." he
says, gaze slipping back to the parts on the table as the man on the television drones on, his words barely audible at the low volume. Jason runs a hand through his hair, rustling his serious case of bedhead before returning to his work in silence.
Vasquez lets Jason work in silence for a while, busying herself with opening up the box of cookies, taking one and eating it in a couple of bites as she watches synthetic hands run through a routine they know by heart. It brings out memories of long lonely nights of doing the same, aboard a corporate spaceship, or in a barren apartment. The repetitive, familiar action and the comforting weight of the steel that had kept her alive
for years the only thing keeping her from snapping. Her attention shifts to the heaviness in his eyes for a moment and lets out a quiet sigh, reaching over to place a hand on Jason's lower arm, interrupting his work. "Talk to me...?" she asks, thumb tracing a joint in his arm as she studies him.
Jason continues to work in silence as Vasquez' focus remains on the cookies, as if worried that talking might cause his worries to spill out of him. Just an assembly line of cleaning and reassembling parts with a practiced precision. It's a familiar comfort. But that pang of guilt in his chest only seems to worsen, silently berating him for his inability to get past that barricade and just tell her what's on his mind. It's not
like she doesn't know something's bothering him. She wouldn't be here with him at nearly four in the morning if that was the case. But pride and embarrassment are powerful motivators. Fortunately, so is fear of disappointment. A fact that hits him hard and fast as he hears his wife's words, his actions halted by the hand on his arm. They promised each other they wouldn't do this anymore. This song and dance where they
pretend everything is fine. They promised that they'd talk to each other. Lean on one another. Said that they were going to be better. They had to be. He can't just let that become more lip service. "I-... uhh-..." he begins, swallowing as he studies the Revenant's reciever in his hands that he was in the midst of slotting the barrel into. "...It was just a bad dream." he says, the words sounding ridiculous to him even as
they leave his lips. It causes a sheepish snicker to escape involuntarily. "I know it's stupid, but, I don't know-..." he tries and fails to dispel a bit of that embarrassment that ride the words, letting out a deep breath, "...Guess I just couldn't get back to sleep." He finally looks her way, the smile that forms even heavier than before. "You don't need to stay, Linda. Really I-..." he gives a small nod of his head,
"...I'll be fine." Nightmares aren't exactly uncommon for him these days. After everything that's happened, going to sleep feels like navigating a minefield some nights. Where he's left alone with his darkest thoughts. Where his worries- thick and smothering- finally catch up to him. Where all of that baggage finally starts to pull him down.
Vasquez ' gaze falls down to her own hand as Jason speaks, eyes following her thumb as it traces the shape of his cybernetics. She shakes her head faintly at the mention of it being stupid, a small, tired smile crossing her lips as she looks back to his face. "I can't sleep without you." she says softly, giving his arm a squeeze before pulling back to take a sip from her glass, eyes never leaving him. She angles the box of
gingerbread cookies his way. "Besides, I've spent enough nights on my own in a dark room, doing unnecessary maintenance to know that it kind of sucks." she adds with a small shrug, tone turning a bit lighter as one corner of her mouth tugs upwards a little.
Jason's smile seems to lighten a bit as Vasquez speaks. Her final statement even gets a small snort out of him and he reaches out to grab a cookie for himself. "Yeah..." He pops the cookie into his mouth, gaze tilting back to the disassembled parts on the table as he chews. It's an old habit not uncommon amongst soldiers. When you're cooped up on a ship, half a galaxy away from whatever problems may be troubling you- half a galaxy
away from being able to do anything about them- it can be maddening being stuck in your own head. So you keep your mind busy by being productive. Put your focus into something else. Something that requires just enough brainpower to keep you from dwelling on whatever it is that's keeping you up. "Guess I thought they'd stop." he says. "After the news about the Collectors?" he clarifies, shooting a brief glance Vasquez' way,
but his eyes bounce off of her, turning right back to his Revenant as he begins to lock the barrel into place. "Guess I just thought-..." he trails off, merely shaking his head instead of bothering to finish. It was a stupid sentiment. Why would the dreams stop? After everything they've been through? It's not the sort of thing you can just turn off. Not something you can just sweep under the rug once it's over. Not after
Vasquez sighs, nodding faintly - not that she shared his hope, but she understands it. She watches him reattach the barrel as she considers her response for a moment. "I... I don't think they ever will." she admits with a small, apologetic shrug. "I, uh..." she hesitaties, gaze falling down to her glass for a moment. "I still dream about Elysium sometimes, you know? Torfan..." a small shake of her head. "Even though though that
was long ago. Even though... so much shit has happened since. I don't think any of it ever goes away. It just piles on. But..." she draws in a breath, searching for the right words as she realizes she's sounding a lot more negative than she's meaning to. Her gaze returns to Jason, studying his face. "...but it doesn't matter." she says firmly, sucking in her dry lips and licking them. "Because it's over. It is. And we're
still here." Her hand reaches for his knee under the table, seeking to offer a touch not dulled by cybernetics. "Maybe we're a bit messed up..." she admits with a shrug, eyebrows furrowing slightly before correcting to "Okay, maybe we're a lot messed up." with a tired smile. "But we're together. And no matter how much shit we've got behind us, we've got a future to look forward to. Neither one of us has to deal with this
Jason's gaze remains fixed to the weapon in his hands, but his work comes to a halt as Vasquez begins to speaks. Her mention of Elysium causes his expression to darken, well aware of the sort of feelings the name alone conjures up for her. But she's not wrong. It doesn't just go away. It piles on and continues to do so until it slowly wears you down. But as her tone shifts, he finds himself tilting his attention her way, his blue
eyes seeking hers out. It doesn't feel over. Not with the fresh images conjured in his mind. A dark forest of sharp, spined trees, littered with that lifeless, dull glow from hollowed, empty sockets. That feeling of helplessness as the people he cares about are dragged off and there's nothing he can do about it. The touch against his leg helps to push those thoughts aside. Helps to remind him that it was just a dream, and
he's quick to bring his own hand under the table to envelope hers. A reinforcement of her words. They are still here. After everything. They survived. The lucky ones when so many others weren't so fortunate. The much-needed levity brings out a semblance of a smile and the correction cements it, even getting a small snort out of him. As she finishes speaking, his gaze shifts back towards the parts spread out in front of
him. A coping mechanism from a time long past. "Yeah..." he agrees softly. Sincerely. He lets out a deep breath as he settles against the backrest of his seat and gives her hand a gentle squeeze, eyes turning her way once more. "...I know."
Vasquez nods as Jason agrees, that soft, tired smile lingering as she studies him. She turns her hand to interlace her fingers with his and give his hand a firm squeeze. "Good." she says simply, scooting her chair closer before letting go of Jason's hand, bringing her own up to his neck instead, thumb brushing gently back and forth across the edge of hairline as she studies him. After a little while her gaze turns to the partly
disassembled Revenant on the table. "Pretty sure this counts as work..." she muses, a small smirk crossing her lips as she looks back to him. There's lingering concern and sadness in her eyes, but her tone is gentle and a bit playful. In the middle of the night, in the relative privacy of their unconventional home, with only Jason there, it's so very easy to be soft. "Come back to bed." she suggests again, nodding in the
Jason gives a low snicker as Vasquez calls him out on violating the 'no work' pact. The offer sounds tempting. The comfort and warmth of the woman he loves is a much better coping mechanism than tearing down and cleaning weapons, that's for sure. He leans a bit heavier against the hand on his neck. Just like he's always able to lean on her. She's become his rock. His smirk resurfaces, as tired as his eyes. "That sounds-..." he
begins, giving a few small nods of his head, "...Yeah. Sure." Drawing in a breath, however, his gaze turns back to the mess on the table. Can't just leave all of this out. "Just gotta-... get all this cleaned up." He sits up a bit straighter in his seat, casting a challenging glance Vasquez' way. "Whaddya say, Chief?" he asks, adding a little emphasis to her nickname as that familiar lopsided smirk begins to resurface.
"Gimme a hand? I know you've been out of practice for a bit-..." he challenges, "...but ya think you can still manage to put one of these together?" he asks, shooting a small nod of his head towards the disassembled Phalanx.
Vasquez smiles as Jason agrees, although the words that follow causes her to let out a quiet snort, amusement in her eyes as her hand withdraws. She straightens up in her seat, rolling her shoulders and cracking her fingers. "Please... you've seen the schematics for my gun. I could assemble this peashooter in my sleep." she fires back through a grin, settling in to help wrap things up.
Jason seems to gain a little bit more of his usual energy as Vasquez lets the confidence flow. "Big talk." he snaps back, "Well, put your money where your mouth is, hotshot. You've got half a minute. You pull it off, you pick the movie." he challenges, lopsided grin spreading across his features as his troubles seem to melt away in the presence of Vasquez.