Chapter Text
Wrench woke up to the sun pelting down on him, which was weird, because it was supposed to be night. When did Marcus’ car get so comfortable and bright? Was he dead?
Rubbing his eyes, he yawned and stretched out his limbs on the… couch? Was he on a couch? Peeling an eye open, he confirmed that he was, indeed, nestled comfortably into a nice plush couch.
He didn’t exactly remember when he fell asleep, but nor did he remember getting out of Marcus’ car and into this living room for that matter. Which meant that Marcus probably dragged his conked-out ass all the way into his apartment. The laundry list of things he had to apologize to Marcus for was pretty long already, he didn’t need to be adding anything else.
He sat up and pulled off the blanket Marcus must have draped over him, getting a better look at the room. A couple things quickly dawned on him:
One, Marcus was still living that bachelor life. Nobody else in their right mind, besides Wrench, would stand to have so much Devon von Devon staring them down at all times.
Two, he’d never seen this place before. All of Marcus’ collectibles, 80’s horror movie posters, and sci-fi memorabilia were still there. (Shit, a majority of the Jimmy Siska posters were signed too! Marcus had very wonderful and tasteful interior decorating.) But the bones of the place were completely foreign to him.
Which led him to point number three, there was no way in hell this was an apartment.
Marcus had himself a house. A whole damn house, and a really nice one at that. With vaulted ceilings, clean lines, and walls of windows that showcased the breathtaking view of the water shimmering in the afternoon sun, with the entirety of San Francisco’s skyline in the distance.
“Hoooly shit,” Wrench said aloud, completely bewildered.
He searched the rest of the house for Marcus. The living room and kitchen used a wide, massive floor plan, taking advantage of the view. Up the stairs were two bedrooms. The one with the door slightly ajar was filled to the brim with computers and monitors flipping through analytics and security footage. The other door was closed, but by matter of elimination, it had to be Marcus’ bedroom. The thought made Wrench’s heart do flips. Was Marcus awake? What time even was it?
He headed downstairs again and swung open a glass door that piqued his interest earlier. It led to a wide patio taking full advantage of the scenery. Below was just trees, rock, and water crashing along the shore. Taking a look at the house from the outside he now realized it was built into the side of the mountain. Glass and metal carved out of the landscape. Like that one movie with that one alien spaceship cloaking itself on a foreign planet or something.
He stepped up to the railing and leaned over, getting a better look at the skyline. The city was just as beautiful as Wrench remembered it being. No offense to London, but god, the Thames and the smog was just gross.
Marcus’ house was beautiful. Something about it didn’t sit quite right, though. He deserved the world, of course, but as an expert in escaping from your problems with terrible coping mechanisms, this felt far too familiar for Wrench’s liking.
The specific way Jordi said Marcus dropped about a ludicrous amount of crypto for their whole movie-stunt-filming-slash-date-thing never left his head. As long as Wrench had known Marcus, he knew he liked to play fast and loose with stolen assets from rich assholes, but… why like this?
Well, Wrench knew why. He knew exactly what the root of the problem was here. It was him.
Marcus was blowing crazy money on fancy cars and ridiculously beautiful houses, probably landing anyone he could ever want, too— all in an attempt to chase away the pain Wrench caused. That sinking feeling, tainted with guilt and regret, rose back up to the surface.
“One hell of a view, isn’t it?”
Wrench gasped. He whipped around to see his friend leaning against the patio door, wearing a soft smile. Marcus looked like he had just stepped out of the shower with the towel around his neck, and the simple white tank and grey sweatpants combo he had on.
“Jesus, Marcus!” Wrench glared at him playfully. “Give a guy some warning next time! You could have, like, totally given me a heart attack, or… I dunno, I could have fallen over into the water. Welcome home, Wrench— whoops! Now you’re shark-bait.”
“Don’t worry, if you fell, I’d catch you, man. Sorry for the scare, though. Didn’t realize you got up finally. I’ve been trying to wake you, but you kept falling back asleep.”
“Jet lag is cruel, man. Can’t remember the last time I slept that hard, though. I was out like a smashed lightbulb.” He barely slept in London as it was, too plagued with restless nights chasing sleep or waking up from fucked up nightmares to rest. “Uh, how long have I been asleep, actually?”
“A while. Well, you fell asleep before I even got you home and right now it’s…” Marcus checked his fancy-schmancy holographic watch. “Almost four. Damn.”
“What can I say? You weren’t lying about the couch. But now I feel terrible for making you wait on me.” More than you already have, anyway...
But Marcus rolled it off with a shrug. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You’ve been through a lot, I get it. Want some coffee?”
“That’d be great. I die if I don’t have a constant intake of caffeine.”
Marcus pushed the door open and led Wrench back inside. He grabbed two mugs from a hanging shelf and poured steaming coffee into them. He dumped one with sugar, just like Wrench liked it. They met eyes as Marcus handed off the coffee and he smiled.
Wrench’s insides went on fire, but he shyly returned the gesture. He looked around the house again for a welcome distraction as he took a drink. “Okay, can we talk about this place really quick?! Holy shit!”
“It’s something, right?” Marcus grinned.
“It’s more than just something, it’s insane. Please give me your real estate guy’s number? Like, you know that Skye Larsen chick?”
“I mean, yeah, who doesn’t? How come?”
“This is ten times cooler than her place— oh my god, that reminds me, I never told you about her house! It was wiiild, dude, like it talked and it knew who I was somehow, and Skye has a hologram of herself? I want a hologram!”
“Wait, why were you in her house?”
“Uh… long story? She kind of helped me revive Aiden from his coma… which I was partially responsible for causing. I know, don’t ask.”
The incredulous look on Marcus’ face only grew more perplexed. “Wow. Sounds like you’ve been keeping busy.”
“Oh, you don’t know half of it.” Nor did Wrench feel like getting into it. That meant addressing the huge, oversized elephant in the room. He took another sip of his coffee and dropped the subject. “But seriously, that view of the city?” Wrench pointed out the window with a low wolf whistle. “Damn, Marcus.”
“Wait ‘till you see it at night. It’ll blow you away.” Marcus looked around the house, his smile slowly falling. “Yeah, I got this place a little while ago, but I never got a chance to show it off to you because...”
Marcus trailed off, but Wrench knew where he was going: because you ran away to do your whole stone-cold vigilante bullshit without a word to your best friend.
A cold silence spread, poisonous enough to taint whatever illusion of normalcy they were trying to hold onto.
Wrench stared into his coffee, feeling guilty.
Eventually Marcus’ voice broke through the doom and gloom. “Hey, since you were dead asleep before I got a chance to show you around, can I give you a tour? Then you can take a shower and get cleaned up before we head out if you want.”
He glanced up at his best friend and cracked a smile. “Are you kidding? Of course! One tour of Marcus’ weird alien house, please. Only you have to do it like we’re on an episode of MTV Cribs. I can take out my camera and slap some shitty editing onto it in post. Oh, and a shower would be nice, too.”
So they were back to pretending the problem wasn’t there. Wrench could deal with that.
The tour was thorough, with Marcus showing off the various high-tech bullshit integrated into the house when he bought it and how he tore their coding apart and weird stories he’d tracked down about the previous owners. Apparently, the lesbian art critic couple who owned the house previously held the most legendary parties in Sausalito. Marcus had some tough competition to beat but pulling off the biggest hack of the century had to be high up there on the badassery list. It was on Wrench’s, at least.
Afterwards, Marcus showed Wrench to the master bath and then he was off, giving Wrench some privacy. Much to Wrench’s dismay. Like the rest of the house, the bathroom was ridiculous. Fully decked out with a separate jet tub, fancy-looking sinks built into the marble, separate toilet room. Most of it looked hardly touched. The shower was impressive, too, with dark sleek walls and a tall skylight letting in natural lighting.
He did as Marcus showed him; he pressed a button on the side of the shower and a glass panel lit up. Stepping in, he toyed with the shower settings and hit start. A steady warm rain fell from a set of showerheads mounted to the ceiling.
“Oh, so this house is fancy fancy,” he mused out loud. “Does this mean your toilet can shit-talk me back?”
He laughed at his own joke as he pushed back the damp hair from his face.
All of this was making Wrench’s head spin. Maybe he was passed out on that plane and was still hanging thousands of feet in the sky. Yeah. That made more sense than… this. Showering in Marcus’ really nice shower, using his really nice soap, after crashing on his really nice couch in his really nice house…
After only having a dozen or so voicemails from Marcus to keep him company for over a year, being wrapped up in all of this Marcus was enough to suffocate him. In a good way. In a really good way. But it was overwhelming.
Though he was finally within arm’s reach of Marcus, it’s like they couldn’t be more far apart. Through texts, through calls… there was always this distance that he hid behind, using it as an excuse to not go into all the dark, dirty details for why he had to run away. What excuse did he have now for avoiding the truth?
He didn’t want to fuck up the last good he had with Marcus, that was the problem. But he’d already pulled the punches hard a year ago. After everything he did, he didn’t deserve to have this much of what he wanted— or if he should even be entertaining that thought at all.
It was a long, complicated story and Wrench hated every part of it.
Things had been fine before. They were good. Picture perfect, actually. He had a husband, a successful robotics company, and even if he’d left DedSec behind years ago, he still had his friends. Everything he could have ever wanted.
Sure, Zane had an anger problem, but it’s not like Reggie was some kind of saint, either. After a particularly nasty fight, Reggie thought about a way to get in Zane's good graces again.
Even if the guy was a filthy little weasel, Rempart’s whole speech about reaching the stars and pushing humanity forward had been awfully convincing. What was the worst that could come from one business partnership anyway? A whole lot, apparently.
What came next was a broken marriage, a brutal divorce, living in his car, being pushed out from his own business, and having his designs stolen right underneath his nose. But the final card that sent the tower crumbling was Marcus.
It was that fucking voicemail. The one about the guy he knew that drove monster trucks. Marcus didn’t say it, but it was obvious. Reggie had no chance in the world. That’s what did him in.
There was a lot that he regretted— fuck Rempart and fuck Zane, they were a match made in hell for all he cared— but taking out all his anger and frustration on Marcus was the one thing he wished he could take back.
But Reggie ran away instead. Became Wrench again. He’d been stupid. Angry. Violently self-destructive and out for revenge. When it boiled down to it, all he knew how to do was break things or run away from his problems, and he’d already wrecked through enough shit to get the point across.
He dealt with Rempart already, got closure for that little rat bastard ruining his life. Now he was left with a colossal amount of damage he needed to amend. He covered his face in his hands and groaned. When the moment was right, he’d tell Marcus the truth. All of it. It was the only thing he could do to earn himself a second chance. A redo. Otherwise, he’d be better off boarding a flight back to London.
After wrapping up in the shower, Wrench stepped out and mostly dried his hair. He put on the cleanest clothing he brought back with him, a plain black sweater and grey patchwork jeans. In the living room, he found his spiked vest carefully hanging on the back of a chair. He smiled. Had Marcus seen what he’d drunkenly written on the back of it yet? He wasn’t going to get his hopes up.
Speaking of which, he found Marcus outside on the patio, mid-phone call. Not wanting to impede more than he already had, Wrench busied himself by hoisting his suitcase onto the couch. He reached into one of the hidden compartments and pulled out his mask. Avoiding the spikes as he turned it around in his hands, he took a moment before slipping the leather and metal onto his face.
As the mask booted up, he started feeling more like himself. Sure, he might have hung up the Wrench persona a long time ago, but that didn’t stop him from missing the mask. He liked turning everything into a joke and compartmentalizing whatever the fuck he’s feeling are into easily digestible categories.
After Marcus finished the call, he rejoined Wrench in the living room. He’d changed into something more put-together— jeans and a dark grey button-up with a navy bomber over top. He gave one look at Wrench and he lit up like Christmas.
“Aw shit!” Marcus exclaimed. “Now there’s a face I haven’t seen in a while. Is that a new mask?”
“Sure is! Brand new and sexier than ever.” He winked and the mask followed suit. He loved the confidence the mask gave him the most. “Here he is, Wrench in the flesh! Did ya miss me?”
“You know it! Maybe we should steal a cop car? For old time’s sake.”
“Don’t even begin to tempt me, Marcus, because that sounds amazing. Can I get a raincheck?”
“You got it, man. Consider it a date.”
Wrench’s brain stopped working. Marcus, you have to stop saying things like that or you’re going to kill me, he thought. He hoped that if he thought loud enough Marcus might gain some skill in telepathy.
He cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject. “Hey, so. Um. What are we doing? I mean, like, today. Not existentially or metaphysically or romantically or… whatever other kind of ‘-ly’ thing you can think of...”
Marcus smiled affectionately as Wrench kept rambling on, which was awful and very distracting. “You mean like a game plan?”
“Haha… Yeah. That.”
“Well, you tell me. Anything in particular you missed while you were gone? From flamethrowers and sledgehammers to getting high watching movies, I’m down for anything.”
“Anything, huh?” Wrench clicked his tongue while in thought. “Uhh... weren’t we meeting Sitara and Josh?”
“Yeah, we are, but in a little bit. You were in the shower when I was talking with Sitara. Not to spoil anything, but she’s working on—”
“Let me guess, a surprise?” Wrench grinned under the mask. “Totally a surprise, isn’t it? What’s the surprise?!”
Marcus gave him a look, clearly annoyed. “That would ruin the point of it being a surprise, Reg.”
“Yeah, but you can tell me! I can even pretend I’m surprised later on so I don’t hurt Sitara’s feelings.”
“No! That’s fucked up. Besides, you know Sitara, she’d know that you’re lying.”
“You underestimate my acting skills. Come on, pleeeeease!” He stepped in close and looped his arms around Marcus’ neck, rocking him back and forth. “Please, please, please, please...”
“Are you five, dude? Fuck— fine, okay, okay!” Marcus let out an exasperated sigh and playfully pushed himself out of Wrench’s arms. “You get one hint.”
“Yes! You’re the best. Now tell me?”
Marcus grinned. “It’s a surprise.”
“Man, fuck you.”
Wrench’s mask flashed two annoyed dashes. Marcus laughed, and if the sound didn’t do something terrible to Wrench.
“Come on, Reg. Let’s get outta here.”
*
For as much as Wrench dreamt about going back home, when asked about anything he wanted to do in particular, he kept drawing a blank.
The memories of home had always been about visiting the MOMA and making fun of the art with Sitara. Watching movies in the old theater down the street from Marcus’ apartment. Tinkering on potential robotic schematics with Josh in his garage. Out-drinking Ray as the rest of the gang watched on in horror down by the beach.
They started off revisiting the heart of the city— or the heart of the city according to Wrench, at least. From the outside, the old Hackerspace finally got a facelift; Sitara ditched the game store above the old Hackerspace in place of an art studio she shared with her girlfriend. Below ground though, the area looked as much as Wrench remembered it.
Most of the tech was gone— DedSec’s HQ moving onto bigger and better places— but everything else remained unchanged. His bench was just how he had left it. Sitara’s art was thrown about everywhere. The old couch was falling apart, and the wall of TVs were half burnt-in at this point, but it was perfect. To be honest, Wrench half-expected a surprise party to be waiting for him, but nobody was home.
Wrench settled on checking out the tourist traps instead. Marcus was happy to oblige. Back in the day, it was a thing they’d do occasionally: getting high and touring the touristy areas decked out in ‘I <3 SF’ gear and pretending they didn’t know a thing about the city. Now, considering Wrench hadn’t stepped foot in San Francisco in over a year, how was he really different from any other tourist?
They wasted hours playing barely-functioning arcade cabinets at the penny arcade and making fun of all of the dumb trinkets at the kitschy tourist trap shops near the piers. Just before the sun was about to set, they found a quieter spot near the water and indulged in an over-abundance of food Wrench ordered from an assortment of food trucks.
Marcus kept checking his phone every few minutes, but he’d barely heard a word from Sitara yet. The most she’d texted Marcus was telling him to hold off for a little while.
Making the most of it, they walked near the water as the pink sky gave way to night. Wrench stared at the reflection of the city from the water and let out a soft sigh.
“Man, a lot has changed since I left, huh?” he turned to Marcus, question marks on his mask.
“A lot,” Marcus agreed. “When I think about how much time has passed, it hardly feels like it’s been that long. But it also feels like forever too.”
“Yeah…” Wrench kicked a rock at his feet. “How’s DedSec been doing here, by the way?”
“I mean… after the bombings, there wasn’t a whole lot we could do,” Marcus explained. “Most DedSec groups have gone dark or died out completely. We’ve had to lay low ‘cause Silicon Valley is constantly breathing down our necks. But I bet it’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through.”
At the time of the bombings, Wrench had been investigating why Rempart ditched the TOAN conference days before the bombings. He’d been minutes away from being blown to bits. And it definitely wasn’t the last time he’d brushed that close to death. But he wasn’t sure Marcus really wanted to hear about that.
“London is amazing, and you would love it, but it’s a fascist shithole right now,” Wrench said. “But I have been having a blast bashing Albion guards in the face.”
“Blowing up big robots, beating up baddies, working for the Fixers and alongside the Fox?! It's like you’re starring in your own Jimmy Siska movie, Reggie!”
“I know, right!” Wrench grinned, mask lighting up gleefully. “And not only was I working with the legendary Aiden Pearce, but I also totally beat him in a fist fight and saved him from a coma! I’m a total badass, I know.”
“Did he ever say thanks for me busting him out of that prison?”
“No, the ungrateful jerk. He remembered you though, so props to you!” Wrench pat him on the shoulder, mask flashing carets. “I can give you his direct number, probably? His nephew is keeping watch of Wrench Jr. while I’m gone, Sergei too, and… oh! That reminds me! Marcus, you need to meet Little Jordi. Aw, she is just the sweetest little murder robot—”
“Hold on… Little Jordi? As in Jordi Chin?”
“Yeah!! Yeah…” Wrench didn’t understand the horrified look on Marcus’ face, but then small pieces of last night came back into memory. “Oh, he tried to kill you, right? Riiiight… this is awkward now.” He sucked in a breath. “My bad?”
“You named one of your robo-kids after Jordi before me?! Man… that’s harsh. I must have really pissed you off, huh?”
“No! Absolutely not! It’s just that I’ve yet to meet a robot that meets your caliber of badassery and coolness! Also, I proposed renaming Wrench Jr. to Marcus Jr. after we retrieved him from Tidis but you said no, remember?”
“Did I?” Marcus stared down Wrench’s mask with an eyebrow raised. “I’ll take your word on it… for now. Marcus Jr. doesn’t have the right ring to it.”
“Exactly! You deserve a robot name along the lines of M-Tron 4000.”
Marcus stopped walking and stared at Wrench. Hard. Then he broke into contagious laughter. “I can’t even begin to describe all the ways in which that’s worse. Veto!”
“Fine! Marcus Jr. it is, until I workshop something better,” he smirked, circling back to the original topic. “But there’s so much in London I want to show you, M. And all of the badass shit I was doing! There were so many times I’d think ‘damn, I wish Marcus was here to see this’.”
“Well…” Marcus smiled wryly. “I might’ve seen a thing or two. You think the Pearces alone are tech-savvy enough to help you take down that big-ass MK-2 robot?”
“You mean…?” Wrench laughed, a little taken aback. “I always had a feeling. When Albion guards would get too rough and suddenly their comms would start screaming, I always thought it was just other DedSec.”
Marcus cracked a smirk. “Oh, it was. Just a little further off from where you were guessing.”
“So what, have you been stalking me on the streets of London?” Wrench leaned in close. “Do you have an exhibition kink, Marcus? Duly noted.”
“What?! Hell no, man! And consider it a preventative measure to make sure my idiot best friend doesn’t get himself killed.”
Marcus went quiet, staring out into the water. Plagued with guilt, Wrench thought he should say something to mend the wound, but Marcus beat him to it.
“So how long are you gonna be home?”
“Um… I don’t know yet. I was more worried about getting over here than… what I’d do when I got here. Plus, getting back into London is going to be pretty tough. So I guess you’re stuck with me for a little while.”
“Alright, good to know. Since you don’t have somewhere to stay right now, you’re always welcome at my place. As long as you need.”
Marcus smiled and Wrench felt his stomach twist around in knots. Marcus kept throwing gentle sucker punches, completely annihilating Wrench in the sweetest way imaginable. Too much to handle.
“… Thanks, Marcus,” he nervously fumbled out. “Um. I’ll… I’ll think about it. I’ll warn you, though— if living with Mr. Ex-Mistake told me anything, it’s that I’m a horrible roommate.”
“Yeah, you think I don’t know that? I don’t care.” Marcus rested his weight on Wrench’s shoulder. “You don’t need to say yes now, but the offer’s open whenever you want it.”
Internally, Wrench was on the brink of exploding. Maybe this was the time for him to say something. Maybe not the whole truth, but part of it? Or maybe not. Whatever. Marcus felt warm and it was making it kind of hard to think.
“You don’t know how glad I am to be back,” Wrench said while scooting away, for his sanity’s sake.. “Life has been… beyond crazy and there’s a whole lot I need to—”
Marcus’ text tone cut Wrench off mid-sentence; he pulled his phone out of his pocket, read the message, and grinned.
“Finally!” He met Wrench’s gaze. “Ready for your surprise, Reg?”
Wrench dropped the previous conversation like a heavy sack of rocks: gladly and without question. His mask flashed two delighted carets instead. “Hell yeah, dude! Okay, now, tell me— whoa!”
He didn’t have a moment to think before Marcus took him by the hand and started running further down the beach, dragging Wrench along with him. His legs struggled to keep up with his pace, kicking up sand as they ran.
“Hey, where are you taking me? Where are we going? Marcus?!”
Laughing, Marcus looked back to Wrench. “It’s a surprise!”