Chapter Text
Jaeger didn’t recognize the construct he woke up in, but he didn’t sense any immediate danger. He could change it to his liking, easily, but he didn’t. There wasn’t any need to. The room was soft but clinical with basic colors but comfortable furniture. It was strange but not completely unwelcome.
Jaeger pushed himself up from the bed he was in, orienting himself. He did change his clothing. The medical hospital gown didn’t suit him, and he banished it in a second, replacing it with something much more practical.
“I should’ve known firewalls wouldn’t stop you.”
The sudden voice made Jaeger jolt upright and jump to his feet. He spun, bringing his fists in front of his face and taking a fighting stance. There was nothing in the construct he could use as a weapon and when he tried to grab at the code and wrench it around him, it refused to cooperate with him. It made him panic, but what was worse was that he recognized the face that met him as he turned.
“Kovacs?” He should’ve hid his surprise better because the damn soldier laughed almost sadly. Laughed at him.
It could’ve been anyone wearing Kovacs’s face, honestly, but something in Jaeger’s mind told him that this was actually Kovacs and not some imposter.
Neither of them were wearing armor, and Jaeger couldn’t decide if that made the situation better or worse. Kovacs wore clothes that fit the room, muted and comfortable and nothing like Jaeger had ever seen him wear. Jaeger wore clothes that fit himself.
“What’s going on?” Jaeger snapped. He didn’t like being laughed at. “Answer me!”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Kovacs asked, instead of answering the damn question. He had a look in his eyes, like he pitied Jaeger.
Jaeger didn’t want to answer the question until he got his own information, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking back. He frowned, trying to piece together the fragmented events. It was all in bits, and Jaeger didn’t like it when he couldn’t find a coherent timeline. Someone else taking over his body? It was a violation he didn’t like. It was a boundary that he never let anyone else cross.
“Easy, easy,” Kovacs said. He didn’t move across the room, but he held up a hand as if that would comfort Jaeger.
Jaeger braced a hand against the wall as his head swam. He was disorientated. And that alone was foreign enough.
“What. Happened,” Jaeger repeated. He ground his teeth, wanting Kovacs closer so he could grab him and . . .
“Something that we never accounted for,” Kovacs said.
He didn’t elaborate.
“Where am I?” Jaeger asked.
“A construct.”
Apparently that was information that Kovacs was willing to give up freely. A construct. Where in the Settled Worlds, Jaeger didn’t know, but he wasn’t sure that it mattered. He pressed a hand against his head to settle his thoughts. He reached out tentatively, trying to find anything in the construct to grab on to, something that he could manipulate.
There was nothing.
Even his clothes were off limits to him now.
“You know we accounted for that,” Kovacs said. “You should know that, Jaeger.”
To hear his name spoken by a traitor was like a knife twisting in his gut.
“Why?” Jaeger asked instead.
“You’re in stasis,” Kovacs said. “Don’t worry. Harlan doesn’t know where you are. Doesn’t even know you’re still alive, I’m pretty sure.”
“Pretty sure?” Jaeger said. He scoffed, trying to regain his dignity. He hadn’t been at the mercy of someone else’s construct in a long time, and it made him sick to his stomach. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
Kovacs just smiled and laughed softly. He stepped forward for the first time, turning the chair next to the bed just enough so he could sit down. He folded his hands in his lap, and Jaeger hated how goddamn comfortable he looked. But he couldn’t bring himself to sit down, no, that made him too vulnerable. And maybe that’s why Kovacs had done it.
“We’ll spin you back up.”
Jaeger froze, looking up at Kovacs and trying to gauge the emotions crossing his face. He was stone cold though, and Jaeger almost regretted all that training he had drilled into his soldier. His soldier.
“Not anytime soon,” Kovacs said. He heaved a sigh and that was the only tell that he was more exhausted than he was letting on. His shield was up a moment later, unreadable and distant. “I--we don’t trust you enough for that just yet. That’s going to take time.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jaeger said. He didn’t care if the truth made him weak. It felt good to admit it, even though it was exactly what Kovacs wanted. Jaeger had no idea what was going on and his lack of memories wasn’t helping.
“I’ll tell you someday,” Kovacs said.
There was that pitying smile again, like Jaeger was a child that didn’t understand what was going on and was too dumb to explain it to. It made Jaeger’s blood boil, but he put a clamp on his emotions, not about to be shown up by his own student. He remembered when he looked at Kovacs the same way, hundreds of years ago. It felt like another lifetime ago, and that’s exactly what it was.
“For now,” Kovacs said. “You need to focus on healing.”
Jaeger wrinkled his nose before he could stop himself. Healing? From what? He didn’t have any of his memories, and maybe that’s exactly what Kovacs wanted. Maybe that’s what they all wanted. Jaeger wasn’t sure who “they” was, but he knew there was someone out there, watching this conversation. The construct could be broadcasted on every television on a planet and he would never know. He knew that much about constructs.
“One memory at a time,” Kovacs said. With a wave of his hand, a bottle of pills materialized on the side of the bed closest to Jaeger.
Jaeger eyed it distrustfully. Kovacs couldn’t be stupid enough to think he’d coperate just like that. He should know better. Jaeger should know better. He should’ve been smart enough not to land himself in a construct he couldn’t control with an enemy.
He didn’t want to think of Kovacs like that. It hurt to think of Kovacs like that.
“Whenever you want,” Kovacs said, nodding at the bottle of pills. He pushed himself to his feet. “I’m not going to rush you.”
Jaeger had no idea what he was talking about, but the bastard disappeared, leaving the construct before Jaeger could ask any questions. And Jaeger was stuck.
He slammed a fist against a wall, but he couldn’t manipulate it like he normally did and not even a crack appeared. That was frustrating and just reminded him where he was. He scanned the room, looking for anything he could use, sifting through the code, but the firewalls were too good.
Probably made by Kovacs.
Jaeger hated to think that.
He lunged to the pills, as if they would disappear, and snatched them up. It wasn’t full, like he had originally thought. Instead, there was a single white pill inside, rattling against the plastic. Jaeger ripped the cover off and tossed it aside, tipping the pill out and into his hand.
It was unmarked, with no lettering or stamp to tell him what it actually was.
Jaeger still didn’t trust it but he didn’t have much other choice.
He tossed it into his mouth, taking a moment to figure out how to swallow before getting it down.
The vision hit him like a bullet to the brain because that’s exactly what it was. There had been a fight, one between him and Kovacs, and it had ended with a bullet to his brain. They had fought after everything, but it wasn’t Jaeger in his body. No. There was something else there, at the front, preventing him from remembering. Jaeger shuddered without meaning too, falling forward onto the bed as he re-lived a life that he didn’t remember.
And this . . . thing . . . this thing hated Kovacs. Wanted him dead. No wonder Jaeger didn’t remember. These feelings were so far from his own. If this thing let him copilot, let him remember, he would’ve stopped it in a moment. But this thing . . . . didn’t let him. Like it knew. Like it knew about him and Kovacs.
A soldier.
No.
A mentorship.
Not enough.
A son.
Maybe even more than that.
Jaeger could never do that to his son. Could never do that to someone that meant that much to him. Kovacs had to know that. Out of everything, Kovacs had to know that. Didn’t he?
Didn’t he?
When Jaeger pulled himself out of the memory, he had collapsed face first on the bed, boneless. He had tears streaming down his face. He wiped at them quickly, overly conscious of the fact that someone was probably watching him. This goddamn construct. Jaeger clawed at it, trying to do something. Anything.
His fingers slipped across the code.
He was still crying.
Kovacs was probably watching. And Jaeger could do nothing to stop him.