Chapter Text
Nautica poked him in the tire with her datapad. "You're moping again."
"Thanks."
"You said I should point it out to you! What's it this time?"
Skids settled his face in his hands, and stared glumly at the opposite wall.
"Swerve."
"Again? Lotty said you talked it out with him."
He let out a soft groan, and leaned sideways into her shoulder. "I did. Kind of."
"Then what's the matter?"
What was the matter? Swerve had followed him around until they ended up becoming friends, and then at some point they'd stopped spending as much time together with the new arrivals, and then Swerve started turning down his invitations, and then…
He still felt sick.
What was the matter?
"Alphabetically or chronologically?" he asked, and then thought the better of it. "Actually, if you don't want to hear me complaining for the next hour, you'd best tell me to shut up now."
"I've already finished," said Nautica, showing him the short story collection on her screen. She always kept one on the go to read while Skids was still catching up. "Besides, you've intrigued me. Let's go root causes first, then superficial ones."
"That's going to be hard." Skids rummaged quickly through his memories, trying to find some kind of beginning to it all. "Let's see…you know how I get bored."
"You've told me you do, but I haven't seen it."
"That's the thing, I drop something before I have the chance. Before that whole thing with the Dead Universe, I spent most of my time with Rung and Swerve. Then Getaway, then Teebs' gang, now you guys."
Nautica just laughed. He didn't know what he'd expected. "By that logic, Lotty and Thunders will be the only ones you talk to in two years' time."
"You're joking, but it could be true. I mean, I don't think I could be bored by you, but I might. Anyhow, I want to be around him, but…I feel like I'll just leave him again, or he'll feel like I'm only there because I have to be or—I don't know."
"That's never stopped you from talking to me, or Getaway, or Rung. There's got to be something else."
It was a fair point. Swerve was the only one he'd really fallen out of contact with. Except—no, even before, their meetings were always at the bar or in common spaces, never at their hab suites. The thing that had changed was that instead of spending time alone together, it was them and someone else.
"I don't know. Nope, wait, I do know. I know that everyone else has someone else, but he doesn't have anyone else he's really close to. If I get close, and then leave, he'll be hurt. Again."
"Your brain is working well enough to determine that that's not true, so I'm going to count that as your first stupid question of the day. You've got to remember, he's got Tailgate, and Rewind, and Bluestreak and all the regulars. Lotty says they're talking quite a lot now, actually. He's the only one in the medbay who knows anything about our culture." Nautica traced the patterns in his treads. "I hate to break it to you, Skids, but you're not that important."
She was right, he knew, but something about the realization stung.
"Aren't I?" he joked.
"Nope. Why not just tell him about your commitment issues? Firestar was quite upfront with me about the fact that we would not spend time together if we could help it."
Primus, he could imagine it. Part of him wondered if they'd had some sort of signed contract, or something else ensuring that they didn't have to tolerate each other any more than was necessary.
"Classic Firestar. I still don't know why you didn't find someone better."
He still didn't know why Swerve didn't find someone better.
"I didn't exactly have a choice, Skids. And she's not so bad, not now."
"You—yeah, I guess." Privately, he disagreed. Nautica could have had a dozen mechs on any given day, if she'd only asked. "Anyway, I don't want to be like Firestar. That's the point. I want to be a good friend, but…"
"I don't really understand, but I know what you're trying to say. Any other reasons why you're talking it out with me, and not him?"
"Getaway."
"Oh. But—you didn't know. There's no logic in blaming you."
"Nauts, that's a good point, logical, solid, but…Tailgate was his friend, Get—Getaway was my friend. That's enough of a link, for most people. Not to mention the fact that I'm a superlearner, and I still couldn't tell how far he was going to go."
"And that's—" Nautica punctuated it with a light tap of her hand. "—why you need to talk to Swerve again, if last time didn't sort it out. Tailgate, too. If you avoid them, are they going to think 'oh, Skids is feeling inadequate again'? Or are they going to wonder if you were on Getaway's side?"
"Ugh. You're right. I mean, I know he knows I'm on their side, but still."
"Does he?" teased Nautica. "Does he really? Are you sure? How can you be sure?"
"Nautica," he groaned.
"You told me to talk to Firestar. I'm telling you to talk to Swerve, and Tailgate."
"Again, Firestar's not the best comparison. But you're right. I just—" he waved his hands around, trying to pull some words out of the air that could describe it. "There's so much I've done, and so much I haven't done that I should have, and…"
"Oh! I think I've got it—you're self-flagellating."
"I'm what?"
"That awful conspiracy novel from a few weeks back. Remember?"
"With the creepy white mech who kept tearing off his plating and the weird theories about Primus?"
"Exactly! What the 'creepy white mech' does is self-flagellation." Nautica was making fun of him, wasn't she? "Self-harm done in the name of absolution for sins."
"You know I don't do religion."
"I do. But the word can be used in a secular context to describe excessive criticism or punishment of oneself in an attempt to make up for perceived wrongdoings. You feel guilty about Swerve, so you're wallowing as punishment." She elbowed him playfully in the side. "Have I got it? I mean, from what I know, I should be right, but I need you to confirm it."
"That's certainly a new analysis," he joked, "But you could be right. I'll have to think about it next time I read my biography."
The laughed, and Nautica picked up her datapad again, navigating to a short story anthology to pass the time while Skids finished this week's book.
It lasted about 5 minutes.
"Nautica?"
"Yes?"
"Are we thinking the same thing?"
"That short stories, as a genre, are better able to convey concepts but at heart don't have the length required to create characters that resonate with and entrance the reader?"
Well, that was actually pretty true, and one of the reasons he couldn't get into most data-light earth lit, but…
"You're being deadpan."
"Yes! Yes, I am, thank you for noticing."
"And that was sarcasm."
"Yes indeed."
"I can't believe you'd betray me like this."
"All right, all right, yes, I have a feeling we're both on the same page. Metaphorically."
"Yeah, I'm fairly far behind you literally."
"Literarily."
Skids had to laugh. "Good one. Bad one. Good bad one."
"Thanks."
They sat in silence for a moment more.
"Do you ever…sequels. That's it."
"We're doing a metaphor?"
"Yeah. You're my best friend, but it's a bit…"
Nautica sighed heavily, sympathetic rather than disappointed. "Too personal. I know how you feel. In fact, if we're doing this, I might give you my own later."
"Whatever you need, I'll try to help."
"I know. Go on."
"I've—I've read a lot of books. Some I like, some I don't like, some are fair enough the first time, but aren't good for a reread, you know? And when you find a great one, you want more. Except—you know the sequels are never as good as the original. So you're not sure…if you want more, or if reading more will…"
"Ruin it."
"I was trying to think of a different expression, but you're right. Like, Stars in the Heavens was brilliant, but Magma—it just didn't work."
"And once you've read the sequel, you can never go back. It could be better, it could pull you deeper—like with the Silicate Spark duology—or you could get bored and lose whatever relationship you had with the first book."
Honestly, he didn't know how he'd gotten by before he met Nautica. He'd had to finish his own sentences and complete his own thoughts, which was far too much trouble to be bothered with.
"Exactly. Schoedinger's sequel. You don't know what it'll do to you until it's too late."
"That's a terrible application of quantum mechanical theory, but yes, that works."
"It's a dilemma, then." Skids dropped his head in his hands, then leaned into the arm Nautica put around his shoulders. "So, any suggestions?"
"Are you the sequel or the reader in this scenario? Also, a dilemma is a choice between two equally unsavoury situations, not an equal risk of a good and a bad outcome."
"I stand eloquently corrected. And I'm not exactly sure which one it is, now that you mention it. Tell you what—you give me your embarrassing personal scenario in a metaphor, so we can both think about it."
"Sure. Give me a moment to come up with something suitable."
"Of course. Take your time."
She thought hard for a moment, biting her lower lip and resting her chin on her fist.
"Got it! Investing on the stock market."
"Huh, we haven't had one of those since before the war began. Civil war wasn't exactly good for the economy."
"Regardless, you know how it works. When a stock's value is rising, the temptation is to wait until the last possible moment to sell, because if it will be higher in the future, there will always be a better time."
He opened his archives quickly, dragging poor old Shocky's social studies from way back when. Whatever she was saying, it checked out.
"You think—you think that tomorrow, you'll do it. The next day. Next year. But then, you forget there's always the chance that the market will crash, and you missed your opportunity. So there's the constant feeling that if you do it now, it's not the best time, but if you do it tomorrow, it might be too late."
Her voice cracked on the last word, so Skids circled an arm around her waist and leaned further in.
"I know how you feel," he said, surprised by how rough his voice was.
"What do you think?"
"You probably know what I'll say."
Nautica sighed softly, then chuckled.
"You probably know I won't listen. Still, I'd like to hear it from you."
"If it'll help. I think, if you're on the up, go for it. I've—look at Cyclonus. He's cautious. Waited too long, took a loss. And he's a cranky old bastard, whereas you are a lithe, graceful, overqualified young thing. Plus, from what I can tell, you've been waiting for ages. It's as good now as it's ever been."
"Good point, but I'm actually 6 million years old."
Well. That was an embarrassing bombshell he was going to ignore for now, in case he realized he'd gone over a year not knowing his best friend was ancient.
"Either you're joking, or I'm going to remember you said that in three days and go into shock. Back to the point: you're going to wait longer, aren't you?"
"I'm not joking, and I don't know. I think I might have to borrow your metaphor, because I want it, I want more, but I'm not sure if it'll turn out how I want it to turn out."
"Fair enough. Now, what do you say to me?"
She looked him squarely in the eyes, like she was sizing him up more than anything.
"I say, borrowing my metaphor, you waited too long and you just barely managed to ride out the market crash. Back to yours, as far as books go—you read the first one, what, three years ago? Four years ago?"
"Yeah, four years."
"So, you know it front to back and you can more or less read the sequel summary on Autopedia. I think it comes down to a matter of faith. In theory, you know what it's going to be like, so if you still want it after that, you should read it. Alternately, if someone's not sure if they should read you, prove that you're worth it. Be as good. Be better. I know you can be, if you put your mind to it."
"Oh, Nauts, what did I do without you?"
Without breaking eye contact, she flashed him a grin.
"From what I have heard and what you have told me, you did everything you do now, just with different people."
"So I went about my daily business less enlightened and less attacked, makes sense."
He really should disentangle himself, but Nautica was pleasantly warm and she wasn't making any attempts at moving, either.
"Really, if you're going to be like that, we may as well do our banter in the bar."
"I'll buy you a drink."
"So, did you find the help you wanted?"
"Yeah. I think I know what I've decided."
Nautica nodded into his shoulder.
"Me too."
"Swerve's, then? It's been open for an hour or so."
"Let's! Drinks on you, since you owe me for hijacking book club."
"If you were anyone else, I'd argue."