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Yeah idk how I feel about this. Found it in my fic folder and added a little bit, but eh. I think I had an idea for it and kind of lost it along the way. Anyway, just a little bit about Wash and rules, ~1100 words.
There’s a rule for everything.
He knows. He’s read the field manuals back to front, even though no one else has, because you never know when they’re going to come in handy, when some tiny little note ends up saving everyone’s ass, and he knows, because
( the parameters are set and the simulation starts and no matter how many times he’s seen her bleeding blood red everywhere it still hurts every single fucking time )
Epsilon doesn’t have any rules.
Epsilon remembers them, remembers being built and taken apart and built again and it hurt and he remembers every last one ( one two three four repeat simulation twenty-seven and increase output levels ) and he’d tried changing them tried to make him listen ( i was wrong this isn’t going to work you haven’t done it right you can’t bring her back make it stop please ) but the rules kept changing and
“Hey, Wash, are you coming?”
He jerks, looks up and his eyes are too blue, too clear and empty and he blinks and he’s ( someone else ) him again, if only for a moment.
“—Yeah. In a minute.”
He pulls his helmet on, snaps it shut, and slides his gun over his back, and the sound of his footsteps is enough to drown out the voice, for now.
Every time I read a fic by you involving Wash, my heart jerks a little. This style of writing fits him so well, and seeing him try to tear himself away from the memories that aren’t his is absolutely tragic. I love your work.
Oh, man, that’s really, really high praise, and I’m absolutely flattered. I’m really glad you like my writing, and I hope I can live up to it with more stuff!