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“Who the hell are you?” Locus. Soldier. Killer. He knew who he was. He wasn’t going to let a prisoner on a ship get under his skin and eat away at his nerves like this. He knew who he was and there wasn’t a damn thing that inmate could do about it. He could show him he was ruthless. He could show him he was uncaring. People had potential and that man’s potential was dwindling with each second. Who the hell was he? He had been talking! That was his moment and he had a very specific set of guidelines to follow as he went through everything he needed to say. The prisoner had thrown him off, had deviated from the script that he had written in his head and it had been jarring. A sudden stop. Throwing glass to the ground and watching it shatter around him. He flexed his fingers in frustration.
He was the person who intricately planned your death. He was the person who needed to find more intricate tools for the sake of stripping your soul from your being at such a stupid question. Locus grit his teeth, knowing that prisoner shouldn’t have been one to survive the small purge of the dead weight. If the guy survived, he was going to show him just exactly who he was. He would be your judge and executioner just for having the nerve to---
Locus almost jumped out of his skin at the gentle hand on his shoulder. He stretched out his jaw, looking up at Felix to feel how tight his muscles were as soon as he focused on them. Felix withdrew his hand when he saw the severity of the tension on his face, and Locus squinted when he could tell that Felix was thinking about something. Felix nodded toward the direction of Locus’ bunk, not saying a word, but also not touching beyond the initial hand on his shoulder. There was more that they could say in their private areas of the Tartarus that were more easily conveyed. Helmets got in the way. Helmets kept both of them from properly communicating. Helmets managed to keep Felix from reading the intensity on Locus’ face that so many others would have written off as brooding was really underlaid with guilt. So without the helmet now following the mission, Felix could tell there was something wrong. His partner understood him far better than anyone else.
“Is something wrong?” Felix sat down on his bed, patting the spot next to him. Felix reclined at the end of the bed, waiting for Locus to sit. He paused for a few moments, then sat over by the head of the bunk. Locus shook his head, pulling his legs up onto the bed and setting his feet on either side of where Felix was sitting.
“So, nothing’s wrong, but you aren’t talking to me.” Felix set his hand on Locus’ boot, pressing on the armor. When Locus didn’t pull away from the stimulus, he let go. “Normally after a mission like that, you’re more inclined to tell me that I need to stop talking. This one must be bigger though. So what’s wrong?”
Locus thought for a moment. When the moment stretched into minutes of trying to form the words, Felix took the cue and crawled over the top of him. He laid himself down on Locus’ body, weighing himself onto him in a way he knew had worked in the past. Locus had something to focus on when his mind wouldn’t stop racing. He breathed out a sigh of relief, bringing a hand up to place on the back of Felix’s armor. He shook his head. Felix waited patiently.
“If you won’t tell me what’s wrong, I’ll have to guess. Are you okay with that?” Felix asked and was met with a firm nod. “Did it have to do with the mission earlier?” Locus nodded slowly, bringing his hand up to pet over Felix’s hair, soft from the lack of product in it from today. His helmet hair would have been too horrific from the mission. He smiled softly at the thought.
“Is it because we went and hired those prisoners to kill the inhabitants of Chorus?” Felix smiled as Locus shook his head no, brushing his hand over his dreads. “Good. We’re supposed to do that. Is it because we picked out that one guy who knows the Freelancers for help?” Locus shook his head no again. Felix wet his lips and wanted to keep himself calm, waiting a few minutes before asking the next question. He brushed his fingers over Locus’ head and shoulders, keeping his movements slow so he didn’t startle him and make the entire thing worse.
“Buddy, what is it? You don’t normally go quiet for this long?” Felix scooted himself up along Locus’ frame, concern growing more as Locus continued to not talk. The shift in pressure from Felix moving up made Locus a little more responsive, helping him turn over when Felix laid onto his back and reclined back against Locus. When he didn’t receive an answer, he frowned where Locus couldn’t see. “Okay, I know it was on the Tartarus. I know it was after we took out everyone who could have kept us from taking the ship. Was it one of the prisoners?”
Locus laid there for a moment, circling his arms around Felix’s waist now that he had shifted, pressing his face into the back of his neck and nodding slowly. At least he found the source of it.
“Was it Price?” Felix frowned at the shaking again, thinking through again at all of the things they had heard and said. Felix still remained surprised that Locus had waited so long to go non-verbal at this point. Usually it was immediate. This time had taken close to an hour before he even had trouble and started to shut down for the sake of it. Felix initially wrote it off as Locus just being quiet, which wasn’t unusual for him. When the HUD screen display popped up with a written message from inside his helmet from Locus with the simple message of ‘help’, he knew he had to get him somewhere to actually help, calm him down and make everything stop moving so fast.
“Locus,” Felix asked when it hit him, “was it right before I took the microphone so I could sweet talk those assholes into joining us? You paused there. What was it what he said?” Felix tapped his finger against his lip for a second, lost in genuine thought. “Something like ‘who are you?’ or ‘what the hell do you want?’ No. ‘Who the hell are you?’” Locus nodded again, tapping his hand against Felix’s that still lay rested near Locus’ arm.
“Ahh okay, there we go.” Felix shifted on his spot laid against Locus, patting his hand against the arm that had signaled him to the series of unfortunate events that had led up to where they were now. “You know who you are though. You’re Locus. You’re a soldier and a damn good one at that. You shoot first and take names never. Why? Because fuck ‘em. You haven’t needed to take names since we met, and you don’t need to do it now. You know what? If that son of a bitch didn’t die when we purged the Tartarus of all the deadweight, I’ll see to it personally that you can ensure his execution. That sound good?”
Locus squeezed him from behind, nuzzling his face into the back of Felix’s neck.
“I thought so too. So which guy was it? I know you usually plan out what you’re going to say if it’s a big thing like that, so really the only thing I can think of is the asshole who interrupted you.” Locus nodded behind him again and Felix rubbed the back of his head into Locus’ shoulder.
“Is it because he questioned you?” Locus shook his head and Felix followed up. “Is it because you didn’t know how to react?” Locus nodded this time and Felix clicked his tongue in knowing. “I mean, that’s why I jumped in. Make the joke and let people direct it to me so that you could gather your thoughts again because I know how much you rely on knowing exactly what to say. Kinda how I rely on knowing exactly how people will act.” Felix reached back and pet his hand against the side of Locus’ head, fingers bumping over the dreads.
“All right then, so I’ll find out if that fucknut is still alive and if he is, then you will be the one to ensure that he never speaks again. I know you tell me to shut up all the time, but that guy? I’ll give you my knife to cut out his tongue if that will make it even easier. Don’t even have to waste a bullet because he’ll just drown in his own blood. Does that sound good to you, partner?” Felix leaned back, pressing most of his cheek to Locus’ as he nodded.
“Good.”