Chapter Text
Before you knew it, everyone was out of the cell to deal with some bollocks you didn’t hear. The captain, leaned closer to Gaz, murmuring something while his eyes stayed on you. After a moment of tense silence filled only with whispers, Gaz nodded and the captain left. Only the captain. That’s when you knew another round of questioning was coming, this time from Gaz. You took a deep breath to prepare for whatever bullshit inquiries he had about you now— and whatever memories that would resurface in the process.
“Why wasn’t I informed?” His first, firmly delivered question. You shrugged.
“That’s the station’s job. Maybe they didn’t inform you because they pity you,” came your fast response. You knew it wouldn’t take long for this to turn into a back and forth argument.
“Formalities are the station’s job. You knew my contact—”
“I didn’t save it.”
“You could’ve told me something! A ‘hey, I defected, bye’ would’ve been completely fine.” Gaz, in all his frustration, paced around the room as he said this.
“Would it, though?” You shot back sharply, eyes locked on him. “Would you really have preferred it if I had sent you a simple, vague message about my rogue status and then completely cut you off? ‘Hey I defected’ doesn’t sound very fine, Garrick. In fact, if I sent that message and you thought it was ‘fine’ that I went rogue, it would sound a lot like you just don’t care.” A beat of silence as you both glared into each other’s eyes— his sharp but still confuzzled, yours defensive and unblinking. It remained like this for what felt longer than just a second, until Gaz finally gave up the staring contest and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“How long has this been going on?” Came his next question, delivered with more exasperation than firmness this time. Your eyes narrowed. You didn’t like that tone. It sounded like he was lecturing you on missed classes or confronting you— like you were some cluesless teenager who knew nothing about what you were doing, and he was ‘taking action’ by being the responsible one. Gaz was responsible, you didn’t doubt that, but that didn’t mean you weren’t.
“Longer than you’ve been thinking,” you gave a non-answer in spite of his tone, keeping your patience steady, but beneath the surface, he was a stove-top just asking for the pot of water to boil over.
“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he hissed in return, head dipping down. “This isn’t a game.”
“None of this has ever been a game, and I haven’t been treating it like one!” Despite the patience you were determined to keep, you couldn’t stop yourself from raising your voice a little. Just a little. “You’re the one who thinks anything ‘unofficial’ is a laugh in the face because you’re too stuck up your rank as a sergeant to realise—”
“For one second, could you stop bringing work into this?!”
“It’s always been about work, Kyle! Open your fucking eyes, why do you think I defected!? Everything I do has some kind of correlation towards the officials, you should know that, or have you forgotten after 4 years of not seeing my face? Huh? Or maybe, in order to get it in your fucking head, we need to address our relationship—”
“Don’t.” His tone was firm again, suddenly defensive in the exact way that made you confirm that it had been on his mind, whether he’d admit it or not. It made you smirk, only subtly. “... For fuck’s sake, you don’t need to bring that up.” But despite his obvious defensiveness and desire to avoid the topic, you weren’t gonna back down from it now— not after seeing the slight cringe on his face when you mentioned it. You didn’t even know if it was intentional or not, but it sure didn’t help with the bubbling fury rising inside of you.
“Yeah? We never really settled that, did we?” You pried, letting your eyes narrow as he took the words in. Your voice had dropped lower now, settling on trying to make him crack, even if just a tiny bit. You weren’t giving up now.
“… Did you want it settled?” He asked in response.
“Mm… it sure would have been better than having to think about it for weeks on end after you left.”
“I didn’t know how—”
“You couldn’t try, maybe?” There was that louder tone now. “You chose to leave me hanging because ‘you didn’t know how’?”
“We made an agreement, it was supposed to be-...” You didn’t cut him off this time, the words simply died down on his tongue, leaving his mouth hanging slightly ajar, waiting for words that never came. You took the chance, the chance to say the words he was so afraid to say, to ask what he avoided bringing up.
“Was it casual?” There was the key word, the question you both had been seething to ask the other, the question you both had been asking yourselves whenever you remember each other throughout the years. You couldn’t deny the obvious desire you and he had to find out the answer, but it was better said than done. No one actually wanted to answer it, and so, the both of you had lingered. Every single day after you two parted ways, you’d think of it, and he’d think of you, yearning for an answer to a relationship without needing to take action. But you knew answer without action was just some impossible bullshit crap. So, Gaz stalled as best as he knew how to.
“You know what it was supposed to be,” he said, stepping closer as if he was threatening you to continue. But continue you did, tilting your head up to look at him when he got in your space.
“What it was supposed to be, yes, but what about what it was?” Well, that sure made him shut the fuck up. From down the holding cell’s hall, you could hear other soldiers yell orders through the door— a sound you hadn’t heard in quite a while, and a testament to Gaz’s silent thinking for an answer or simply another deflection. “Answer the question, Garrick.”
When his mind could conjure none, he sighed and dipped his head forward. “You couldn’t just let me forget about the whole thing, could you?” Gaz hissed, baring those teeth of his, a telltale sign of his frustration, if it wasn’t already so prominent.
At his comment, you let out a sardonic chuckle. “Forget? If I couldn’t forget it, neither should you. It goes both ways, these ‘casual exchanges’.” You watched as Gaz glanced at the cell door, then back at you. “Besides,” you continued. “You wish you could forget, pretty boy.”