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Sol had just lit a cigar when the question reached his ears.
“Hey, chief, d’ya remember the first time we met?”
He chose not to reply at first. He took a slow drag, immediately feeling the smoke being scrubbed clean from his lungs. The Gear cells didn’t like the things that he tried to put in his body, but it hadn’t gotten him to stop trying to drink and smoke in spite of the sheer amount of ethanol and nicotine it took to affect him at all.
“Yeah, why?”
“Was it really as weird as I remember it being?”
Another pause. “The Holy Order Tournament?”
“Nah, nah, it was before that. Uh, after? Shit, time is weird…” Axl took a sip of his drink, staring out into the very beginning of a sunset. “You looked more like you do now than how you used to. Got the jacket ‘n everything.”
“I have no idea what you just said.”
“Gah! I dunno why I bother sometimes.”
That brought a smirk to the old man’s face. “What makes you ask?”
“Well, I remember it was something sorta like this.” Replied Axl. “Nice weather, pretty sunset...I mean, you did almost break my arm, but it definitely was a nice day.”
Sol snorted into his beer. “Aren’t you sentimental.”
Axl stretched out in his chair. “C’mon, can’t you reminisce with me? I figure you’d at least be able to remember.”
“Don’t like reminiscing on the past. Besides, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Wh- really? That’s weird…”
It was enough to get the man to shut up, at least for a couple of minutes. Axl drummed his fingers on the chair’s arm. “It’s all so friggin’ weird, man. Time’s always going the wrong way. Barely know when I am right now!”
The two of them were quiet again, watching the sun dip away beyond the horizon from their spot on the porch.
“Reminds me of that time in Annecy. Remember, the one with the marching band?”
“No?”
“Huh. Guess it must not have happened yet.”
That put a thought in his head. Sol wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask it. “That happen a lot?”
“Does what?”
“Things in the future. It’s 2178 right now, you see things that happen after that?”
Axl just shrugged. Did seeing that make him relieved or disappointed? “Dunno. I don’t usually remember to check a calendar. Usually too busy freaking out or trying not to get stabbed.”
“Fair enough.” He still couldn’t help but be curious. He tried not to sound interested. “Alright, I know you want to tell me all about it. So just get on with it.”
“Eh?”
“First time we met. I just know you wouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t want to talk.”
Axl went red. “Oh, shut it. I’m not that predictable, am I…?”
“Y’are. Now either say what you’re gonna or plug your noise-hole with another drink.”
“Alright, alright! Jeez.”
++++++
Axl was pretty sure he was having the weirdest trip ever. Not like he tended to use the harder stuff his sort-of-friends took on the regular, but it also wouldn’t have been the first time they’d slipped something into his scotch. It was their idea of a practical joke, watching him stumble around like a moron until he crashed and woke up with an especially awful hangover.
If it was that, then it must’ve been something stronger than normal. It felt more tangible than the others had. The landscape was vivid, but not in the sort of pastel-sherbert way some uppers were. Usually, when he was out of it bad enough, he wouldn’t even question where he was or how he’d got there because he was just too fuzzy to string a coherent thought together. But he felt lucid now, maybe a little buzzy and confused, but that’s just how he normally was whenever he had no idea what the fuck was happening.
This didn’t feel like London. Had those assholes seriously gotten him high and dumped him off on a train to the next county? Again?? They tended to complain about pocket change a hell of a whole lot for guys who had enough money to send him off to Cardiff for shits and giggles. Well, either way, he wouldn’t be able to get back at them for it if he didn’t actually make it back home.
He managed to pick up his feet- that was odd, he didn’t feel heavy or uncoordinated. What the hell was going on?
Wherever he was, it would have been quaint if not for all the dirt and grime everywhere. One of those places where it felt too big to be a town but too small to be a city. Buildings in rows just imprecise enough to be jarring. No paved roads, at least not as far as he could see. Though he supposed the fact that he could only see people walking around on foot meant the lack of street was less of an issue.
Another oddity that caught his attention was all the weird clothing. Some of it looked familiar enough, but a good chunk of the people wore simple, raggedy clothing that he was fairly certain nobody had genuinely worn in centuries. Maybe he’d accidentally wandered into a Renaissance fair?
Axl rubbed at the side of his head. This was just too weird. He didn’t feel weird, but something must have been weird in order for him to end up here, wherever 'here' was.
“Right, right, shit...get yourself together, mate, what’s the last place we were?”
His mind conjured up images of drinks and noisy people, as though that even remotely helped. It wasn’t like he had any other hobbies even if he could afford them. But none of it ‘clicked.’ He couldn’t find that moment that made it all made sense. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if he had passed out, but he felt like he still should have been able to. Had he gone out with Ripper again?
Wait...no, no that wasn’t right. He remembered, he’d been at that little forest hike Megumi really liked. He was certain of it. But that didn’t make sense. If he was drunk, or high, then he should have remembered at least going home first, shouldn’t he? That left a big empty gap in his head. Why did it feel so fuzzy...this still didn’t feel right.
In his distraction, he didn’t notice there was anyone around him until he bumped right into someone walking past.
“Ah, shit, sorry mate.”
The man didn’t look pleased. Axl took a hesitant step back. Despite his tendency to get into scuffles, he really didn’t like starting fights for no reason, especially with strangers. He had enough to deal with right now.
“You got a problem, pipsqueak?” The stranger growled, looming over him.
“Oi, it was an accident, didn’t mean anything by it.”
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of it. “Yeah, well, ya picked a bad time to get lost in my neighborhood. Got anything worth selling you wanna hand over, or am I gonna have to take it off your body?”
This was very quickly going in a direction he didn’t want it to. Reaching to his side, Axl wrapped a hand around his sickles and took another step back.
“Not lookin’ for trouble, here-”
As he blinked, the man suddenly lurched to the side, then flew right off the ground to smash into a lamppost several feet away. In any other instance, Axl would have taken the opportunity to run, but he was too stunned at the suddenness of it to do anything but freeze and stare.
A smoking fist occupied the space where the man had stood only a few moments ago. He followed it back to a muscular arm that had to be wider than his head, attached to an even meatier frame. Another stranger, even bigger than the first one, and a lot more intimidating. Maybe it was the scowl, or all the red leather, or the giant bludgeon he had balanced over his shoulder (on second thought, yeah, that last one was probably it)
“B-back off, mate!” That finally spurred him into action, recoiling and grabbing a blade. “Don’t get any closer!”
Strangely, the man replied with a low chuckle. “If I wanted you as a smear on the pavement, I woulda’ let that asshole do it. I don’t like wasting effort if I don’t have to.”
That...made a strange kind of sense. Axl didn’t put his weapon all the way away, but he relaxed his posture. “Guess I gotta thank ya for that timing. Couldn’t have been better.”
“Eh, that’s kind of a running theme.” He shrugged like that was supposed to make some kind of sense. “Getting yourself into deep shit again, huh?
Axl blinked at him, trying to will memories into his mind that probably weren’t going to actually show up. “Uh, sorry, don’t think I know ya? You one of Ripper’s mates? If I met ya at that rager over on Halsbury like a month back, I was completely blackout piss-drunk then, so I definitely don’t remember it.”
He was pretty sure he would have remembered a guy like this otherwise. The man’s hard features didn’t soften, but there was almost a glimmer of pity.
“You’re in a real fucking mess, huh?”
Understatement of the century, but he had no idea how this guy knew that. Did he really look that out of his element that strangers were just jumping at the chance to give him a hand? Because in that case, he was definitely nowhere near home.”
“Uh...yeah. Guess it’s just a weird day.”
“You have any idea where you are?”
“Maybe? Kinda reminds me of this place in Cirencester I went to once? Still pretty sure my arsehole flatmates decided to dump me on a train to nowhere for a laugh-”
“This is southeast Illyria.” The man said.
Axl stared at him. “The fuck’s ‘Illyria?’”
“Oh, boy.” His expression creased again, and the hand not holding the big bludgeony thing pinched at the bridge of his nose. “Cornerstone of the post-Crusades world, established 2170-something-or-other, I don’t keep track of the fuckin’ dates-”
“What?” Was this guy drunk too? What the hell was he saying?
It was a joke. It had to be. So why did the guy look so serious??
A manic laugh threatened to escape. “T-twenty one...y-you- you’re- Ripper put you up to this, didn’t he?! He’s pullin’ some stupid prank on me? Haha, it’s real funny, cut the shit now, okay?”
“I don’t give a shit whether you believe me or not, just don’t say I never did anything for you.”
Axl felt that laughter escaping, but he certainly didn’t feel happy. “Hahahaha- f-fuck, what the fuck, what the-”
The stranger rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna do this all day? Because if you are, I’m out.”
“This is bullshit, this is fuckin’ bullshit-”
“Get it together, dammit!”
The feeling of an arm wrapping around his fist definitely did the job of snapping Axl out of his panic, though part of that came from the fact that the man’s grip was far too tight, and it was hard to think when he felt like his arm was being crushed.
“Ow, ow, sonuva- ow!” He tried to pull away, but only succeeded when he was let go. “The fuck was that for?”
“It helped, didn’t it?” The asshole had the nerve to be smirking. But, loath to admit it, he wasn’t wrong.
Axl rubbed at his wrist. “Yeah, yeah. You always make new friends like this?”
“I think you already knew me."
“Quit your bitching already. Sounds like you’ve never been around here before, ‘n so far, your track record’s pretty shit too.” He gestured to the still-unconscious man lying at the base of the lamppost.
“What makes y’say that?”
Despite his acidic words, the man still gave him a roguish little smile. “C’mon, Axl, let’s get the hell outta here. There’s a bar near here, this round’s on me.”
“Because you knew my name.”
++++++
“Fuckin’ hell, if I’d’ve known that, I would have just left ya on the street,” Sol smirked.
“Why d’ya have to be so hurtful, chief?” Replied Axl, with his own smirk. “Seriously, though, I gotta thank you. I was a half-second from losing my fuckin’ mind right then. Coulda’ been a little gentler, though.”
“Eh, not my fault your bones are weak.”
The two men went back to their drinks, watching the still-glowing sunset with distant interest. A few pedestrians made their way past, not even glancing towards the two on the porch. This was the sort of situation Sol loved to find himself in. Quiet, unbothered, and getting shitfaced.
Of course, one of those had to be interrupted, and as usual, it was Axl’s fault.
“Wait, so what was your first time meeting me like?”
Sol paused for a moment, then shrugged. “Barely remember it at this point. Don’t think it was anything important.”
“I bet you probably had to save my ass. That happens way too much.”
“Wh- shit! What the hell…?”
“Eh, don’t really remember. I think you were just slacking off again.”
“Damn, those look bad...hey, hey, no need to be afraid, big guy! ‘M not gonna hurt you. I just wanna see how bad those are…”
“Haha! That sounds like me. Hope I wasn’t too much of a pain in the ass.”
“Easy, easy...I know it stings, but I promise it’ll help.”
“When aren’t you?”
“Oh, that was just unnecessary.”
“Let’s go back to my place, okay? I’ll get you all good and healed up.
Doesn’t that sound nice, chief?”
++++++
Frederick hadn’t woken up comfortably in about four decades. Maybe more. He knew exactly when his last good night of sleep had been, but considering the state of things he wasn’t the best at keeping track of dates.
Likewise, he wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious for when he found himself waking up in a pile of threadbare blankets. In his old life, he would have found it uncomfortable, but in this day and age, it was practically a luxury four-poster. Which meant something bad must have happened while he was knocked out.
He was put on alert immediately, back arched and claws out to try and intimidate whatever had had the nerve to put its hands on him. But his narrowed eyes found little of interest. Somehow he’d ended up in a little shack, practically empty but still standing. That much was hard to come by nowadays. Something like this had to have someone to belong to, yet there was nobody to be found. There was a lingering human smell, slightly faded, but he assumed it had to be the owner. And that was all he intended to see of them, whoever they were.
Staying wasn’t an option, not even remotely. Frederick untangled himself from the blankets not-too-gently, leaving a few new holes in places where he was too impatient to figure out how to get loose. The fact that escaping from blankets took more than a few seconds should have been enough of a clue for him, but he was so distracted by his own brewing annoyance that he managed to get all the way untied, stand up straight...and promptly collapse as soon as he tried taking a step.
With his face mushed into the floor, he still managed a noise somewhere between a curse and a grunt. His failure suddenly made him all-too-aware of the fact that, firstly, he was utterly exhausted, and second, he didn’t realize it had been possible for his body to hurt so much. Sure, before he had been just as squishy and fragile as the next guy, but nowadays most injuries were fixed and gone within the hour. Whatever had gotten to him had done a bad enough job that he was still healing those wounds after however long he had been unconscious for. If he moved too quickly, he could feel them pull and start to open again.
So that had to be why he was here. Some do-gooding moron was stupid enough to drag a Gear into its house- Wait, hold on, why was he scaly? He was supposed to have his limiter, he remembered having it on!
When he felt for the place it typically was, Frederick could still feel the familiar block of metal. So it was still on him? Still there, but as his fingers ran along its surface, he found a long crack snaking through part of it. Cold panic welled in his stomach as he ripped it off of his face. Sure enough, it was still with him, but it had nearly been split right in two.
In a fit of rage, he threw it across the room. Any relief he could have felt from it was immediately muffled by the pain in his arm flaring again, and the realization that he was too weak to drag himself across the floor and retrieve it.
So he did what he typically did when he was out of ideas: sulk. It lasted him quite a bit of time, or at least felt like it did, and was only interrupted by the door to the shack finally swinging open on its own.
Some scruffy blonde idiot stumbled in, hauling a raggedy bag over his shoulder. To his absolute confusion, Frederick watched as they regarded him with an inexplicably friendly smile and wave. “Shit, hey! Good to see ya up.”
Frederick was on high alert, backing up to the wall and glaring the man down. Moving hurt, but he refused to show weakness. The arched back and outstretched wings immediately got the stranger’s attention. He raised his hands, weaponless and empty aside from the bag and whatever was in it.
“Oi, oi, easy there, mate. Y’don’t recognize me?”
Was he supposed to? The voice sounded distantly familiar to the one he recalled right before passing out, but that meant absolutely nothing. Frederick kept his stance.
“Alright, alright, chill.” In another puzzling turn, he suddenly lost any fear he had from the Gear’s presence. Instead, he moved over to the damaged limiter that had been thrown and picked it up.
“Don’t touch that!” Barked Frederick. “It’s mine!”
“Yeah, I know.” He replied, scrutinizing the object, giving it a small shake, but not returning it.
Adrenaline managed to get him to his feet and a couple of steps closer, but he collapsed again and landed in a heap. That finally got a reaction, with the man’s footsteps hurrying over to his side.
“Shit, chief, why’d you have to muck up all my hard work!” He said, helping him into a more comfortable position. As soon as his arms were free, Frederick swiped at him. “Jeez- !”
“Why did you bring me here?!” He growled. It didn’t make any sense to him. There had to be some reason he’d missed. Everyone knew what a Gear was, and everyone knew to be afraid of them. Maybe this was one of those wannabe scientists who thought cutting up gear corpses would help the war. Or, hell, maybe he was just being kept around for meat. Someone had to be crazy enough to give it a try, and wouldn’t that be just his luck.
Instead, the stranger just shrugged. “It’d be a dick move to just let ya die, wouldn’t it?”
And that was that. Stuck in some stranger’s house while his wounds healed. Something must have been fucking with his accelerated healing, because he quickly grew impatient waiting for wounds that slowly knitted themselves shut. He spent days sulking in the corner. It was too much for him. Being pitied and treated like an invalid. Scrounging the wastelands was preferable to being looked down on.
It must have been pity. Some kind of sick, twisted pity that this asshole (he knew his name now, but he didn’t care) was keeping an eye on him like he actually gave a shit. Frederick reluctantly ate what he was given, but never lowered his guard. As soon as that happened, he just knew something would come to take him off-guard.
“That thing of yours got busted up pretty bad, how’d you manage that?”
He didn’t so much as lift his muzzle from the ground. Axl had been trying to do something with his broken limiter for hours, pulling pieces out and putting in new pieces he must have scavenged somewhere. Frederick had already deemed it a lost cause. He knew full well he’d have to make a new one from scratch as soon as he could make it back to his lab.
Axl noted his silence and went back to work. “...well, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. I think I’ve got it mostly fixed.” He said, twisting a screw into place. “Had to replace a couple parts, but I think it’s just about good as new.”
Frederick scoffed. He knew full well this idiot had no idea what he was doing, and any tinkering on the limiter was useless at best.
“Sure. Have fun.”
The rare bit of conversation immediately got his attention. “Eh? Well, thanks! Sounds like you’re doing a little better, yeah? Figured you’d already be all fixed, ain’t Gears supposed to heal quick? Maybe you’re just weird, I dunno. Dunno where ya came from.”
“Surprised y’ haven’t asked too many damn questions. Figured you’d be curious.” The Gear huffed.
He shrugged. “Eh, I can guess a lot of it. And anything I can’t, prolly ain’t my business.”
“I don’t fuckin’ buy that. You’re well enough that you’ve got a house. You hafta want something from me. Figured that’d be enough an excuse t’ badger me.”
Something about that was apparently funny, based on the little laugh Axl gave in response. “Oh, I’m just as lost as you. I just happen to have a shack. So I’m happy to share it, mate. That’s how we get through shit like this. Folks helping each other. Speakin’ of which…” He held up the limiter, finally screwed shut.
It didn’t look like much. As such, Frederick wasn’t expecting much. He still took the device as it was handed to him, eyeing the unexpectedly clean smithwork- hold on. Everything about it seemed immaculate. As he’d said, practically as good as new. That...that was impossible. How could he have fixed it? He’d made the limiter from scratch, he should have been the only person on the planet who could have fixed it. Yet here it was in his palm, whole again, emitting its faint, calm aura.
He tried not to show his confusion, merely strapping it back into place. “Why’re you helping a Gear? Don’t you know what I could do to you?”
Axl remained unshaken. “Yeah, and a regular human could shove a knife in my ribs just as easy and steal all my shit. If you were gonna rip out my guts and eat my spleen, I woulda’ figured you’d do that days ago.”
He had a point, and Frederick hated that he had a point. He glowered and went back to sulking.
“Besides.” He continued on, “I know you’re not such a bad guy.”
That got his anger to flare up again. “How the fuck can you say something like that? You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
“I know you’re lonely. And you’re in a real bad spot, ain’tcha? I think that’s all I need to know.”
It seemed a vague enough answer that he’d probably just guessed, but something about it made Frederick feel unexpectedly vulnerable. He typically responded to that by doubling down on the aggression, but he couldn’t find any to bare.
Ever the enigma, Axl didn’t take his hesitation as an opening to coax more information out of him. Instead, he offered another one of his warm, inviting smiles.
“Besides. I’m sure I’ll get to know more about you if you decide to stay a little longer. I’d be happy to let you.”
++++++
Axl cocked his head to the side. “That’s it? I just dragged you on another drunken bender? And I didn’t even realize you didn’t know me?”
“Funnier in hindsight.” Sol shrugged. “But yeah, nothing exciting. Just drinking, ‘n making a break for it when neither of us could pay.”
The man sighed in dismay, clearly displeased with Sol’s mundane story. “Damn, why do so many of the times we bump into each other end up with us drinking? Maybe I need more hobbies. Finally not slipping off every couple weeks, maybe I could actually manage one. Knitting or some shit. Always thought knitting was cool.”
The sun was starting to vanish, and the sky was dotting with stars. A few doors down, a dog began to bark, and its owner shouted it quiet.
“Just...man, really makes you feel like you haven’t done anything with yourself.” Said Axl. “Like, I gotta do something cool by myself, yannow?”
Sol said nothing, and his companion took that as a sign to keep chattering. “I mean, I guess I’ve done some stuff. I’m prolly overthinkin’ it. Anyway, guess I’ll try and remember that for if you ever act like- I mean, if you haven’t actually met me yet! Dunno if I should fuck with time too much, but maybe I’ll do something a little less boring. What do you think?”
“You’re a lot of things, but definitely not ‘boring,’” he grunted. “Idiot, maybe, not boring.”
“Fair enough!” Axl said, responding to the insult with a little punch to the shoulder.
With a dry laugh, Sol went back to his drink. It suddenly felt even more bitter in his mouth.
“I’m going out there.”
“Are you kidding? That’s a Megadeth! You’re still hurt, how can you even think about trying to fight that thing?!”
“It’s gonna tear through the whole countryside unless someone stops it.”
“...No. I’ll go. You stay here.”
“WHAT?!”
“You’re injured, Freddie. Gear or not, I’ve got a better chance than you do.”
“No, you-...W-wait, how did- ?”
“Hey. Let’s get some drinks after this, okay?”
“What are you-”
“Drinks. I’ll buy your favorite. First round’s on me!”
“No, NO! Don’t you dare go out there- !”
++++++
There’s so much blood. There’s too much blood. He’s seen so many dead bodies already, why does it still make the bile rise in his throat? Why hadn’t he done anything? Why had he been so stupid,-
Idiotic sonuvabitch hadn’t even managed to kill the damn thing, just wound it into running off. They could have both stayed inside (they couldn’t have), tried to keep their heads low until it passed (it wouldn’t have worked), and go unnoticed until it was long gone (it would have noticed, damn things could smell a human from miles away). It was so, so stupid, none of this should have happened, Axl had nobody to blame for his own recklessness.
None of it changed the fact that Frederick had his body in a vice grip, pitifully dragging the both of them towards the safe little shack but only getting so far as the doorway before his damn legs gave up again.
This was why he didn’t care, why he didn’t get attached. This was a war. Even so far away from the front lines, people died. He was supposed to know better, why did this one idiot, with his annoying optimism and snorting laugh and warm, unconditional kindness change anything at all. None of it meant anything. He shouldn’t care.
“Haha...don’t start cryin’, Freddie…”
He felt a trembling hand brush his. It jarred loose the shaking breath he’d been holding, and Frederick immediately knew it was only downhill from there. If he could box it all away, everything would be fine, but now it was spilling through his fingers and slipping away before he could grab it.
Axl was still smiling. Equal parts of him wanted to throw the man’s body as far as possible and scrub the feeling off his skin until it turned raw, and hold him tighter like that would be of any use at all. No matter what, Frederick refused to cry.
“It’ll be fine, chief.” He rasped. “I...this’s just the first time.”
“What are you talking about?!”
“Last time for me…”
“I don’t understand! How did you know my name?! Who are you?!"
“Had to end...sometime…” He laughed through the blood pooled in his throat. “Wish it coulda’ been...later…”
Just insane babbling from the shock and blood loss, it had to be. Frederick was still haunted by questions he didn’t have the answers to. Why had Axl regarded him as an old friend? How had he known exactly how to fix the limiter? They spiraled in his mind along with the million other thoughts running rampant and making it impossible to think straight.
For a moment, his voice turned desperate. “Please...don’t go…”
Axl didn’t respond- what response could he even give? All he did was hold his hand, and even then, Frederick felt it slipping.
“Get goin’, chief...see you...soon…”
That was the last coherent thing he could make out. Anything beyond that was incoherent slurring, or a wet gurgle. It was an unpleasant way to go, death twitches going slower and slower for what felt like an eternity until they finally let him go.
Frederick felt his hands drift towards the man’s half-exposed ribs, instinctively moving to try CPR. He stopped them. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t change anything. Axl was just another body now. Just another person he couldn’t save.