Chapter Text
Your name is Janice Caroline Briggs, you are 8 and someone is hugging you, people have been doing that all day and you still don’t know why, you look at a clock and wonder why your mother isn’t home yet. Condolences, you wonder what that means.
**
Your name is JC Briggs and you’re sneaking out of the 4th house this week, you’re not in trouble, in fact you’re being polite and leaving before they wake up. This particular woman had let you stay the night on the couch as many usually do; you had made breakfast, ate and left the rest in their still warm oven with a note on the counter and a few credits (all that you could manage to spare) to pay for it. “And where do you think you’re going young lady” the woman says, leaning against the door frame of her room, her sudden appearance almost frightening you (suddenly you’re worried that you’re the one who’d awoken her).
“I was just going to get out of your hair” you gesture to the stained glass door and the world beyond, this house was one of the smaller, but nicer of the ones on this planet: the owner, a woman affectionately called ‘Aunt May’
“I’ll have nothing of the sort” you watch her as she walks over and gives you a soft hug, made softer by her robe “I can’t stand to see a young child living without a good home any longer.” You stared at her in confusion “I may be old, but I’m not blind yet. You’ll live here now dear, I have a spare room in the back with a nice sofa in it, nicer than this one anyhow.” She smiles warmly at you and takes the plate of breakfast from the oven, sitting down. You stutter a thank you and sit down with her out of politeness; little do you know that this woman will be the closest thing you ever get to a mother.
**
Your name is Janie, or that’s what she calls you as she hugs you tighter than you can ever remember her having the strength to do, she knows you only want to help people but ‘is this really the best choice’ you assure her it is, you tell her you’ll be fine ‘but you’re only 16’ she frets, you tell her it’s fine, you hug her back, you’re outside her house, in front of the stained glass door that had held you here almost a year ago, the one that so easily let you go this morning, the one that creaked closed behind the woman who had cared for you out of the kindness of her heart that whole time. She smells like flowers, like spring, she always smelled like spring and you would miss that more than anything you think “now you write me every chance you get young lady, anything you need, anything at all, I’ll put it in your care package for you and express ship it your way, you just write the word and I’ll do my best” you give a tearful nod and hug her again. She pulls away and holds you by the shoulders an arm’s length away “and for that stars sake dear, be careful. You’re like a daughter to me” that’s the breaking point for you, you almost sob but you know that won’t help anything, you just hug her again, say your goodbyes, hike your duffel bag onto your shoulder, and go off to the space marines.
**
You’re name is Private Briggs, it’s well past curfew and you’re sitting in an old storage room sitting on a crate next to Garrison with a bottle of whiskey (his choice). In your hand is a pen, and around your hand is his, he guides your shaky hands to make out the letters of the English alphabet.
When all twenty six characters are on the sheet he tells you to write something. Slowly, in neat overly cautious lettering, you write out four letters: Babe
**
Your name is Agent Kentucky and hell you like the way that sounds, no you love it, and that’s what you’re thinking when the director tells you to put your helmet on, something about how this is a serious procedure, someone says something about how you’ll probably choke, you think you hear someone else call him Utah.
With that you start your aptitude test, they put you in front of a table with a gun and tell you to shoot the target, you miss by about two feet, you try again, and again, you insist you can do this, they tell you to put the weapon down, you insist you can do this. You miss again and put the weapon down. Then they ask you to disassemble the gun, and this you can do. You take off your helmet and your gloves, it’s easier if you can feel the cold touch of the metal parts beneath your lithe fingers. You have the whole gun disassembled and reassembled in a little over a minute, even running better than before. You bomb most of your test after that, but manage to win a round or two in hand to hand combat by slamming your palm into one’s helmet so hard it sends them down and using the force from that to kick the other in the middle of their back, your celebration, however had caused you to go down in round three rather quickly.
**
Your name is Kentucky and you feel pretty useless around here. You were a mechanic, not even for the cars in constant need of repair, no, you repaired and improved guns, not so much to do all the time. Most of the time you wandered around the base, or wrote letters to Aunt May. That is until one morning when Florida (who frankly scared you almost as much as South did) asks you a question “would you like to give this to these agents?” he’s holding a list of names and a lot of muffins in a lot little baggies, you agree happily enough, and gain an armful of muffins, a piece of paper and an oddly comforting hug.
**
You’re Kentucky, or that’s what he says as he stiffly points to the infirmary, you shake your head and insist that you’re fine, this happens all the time, he growls at you and you trudge in. Kentucky is what the medic sighs as he asks you what happened this time and you tell him you’re not really sure. The medics name is Delaware and you’re pretty sure he sees you more often than most of the other freelancers combined, but you know he enjoys the company, even if he is really grumpy sometimes.
**
Your name is Kent and you just met your best friend, sure she looks scary, but she’s really nice and sure you’ve seen her before, Miss Arizona, she often missed breakfast, and so you bring it to her, but today you really talked, she called you Kent, and you think you love that more than you had Agent Kentucky.
Here’s how it went down, for once you had work that was actually what you were here for, one of the other agents had actually brought back a broken gun, instead of using it to bludgeon someone’s skull in and toss it away (okay, they might have still bashed someone’s head in with it, but that’s not really your concern, point is they brought it back for once) and it was in pretty bad shape, a few dents here, and somehow a missing part, you can’t help wonder how the fuck they managed that.
Anyhow, a missing part means that you have to retrieve a part, luckily you think you know where you sat one of these the last time you were climbing the shelves, by the time this thought (and a lot of other off topic ones) has crossed your mind, you’re half way up a ladder, just one more shelf you mumble as you poke your head over the edge of it and nearly jump off the ladder when there’s someone up there. You grope at the shelf for a moment to regain your balance and curiously tap her on the head “are you alright” you ask, you hope you didn’t tap her head to hard.
‘I-I don’t like heights,” she says, you can hear the panic in her voice “I think I’m kind of… stuck.”
You hum in response and look around the shelf for a moment, and grab the part you were looking for off of a crate and sticking it in a pocket “Well we can’t have that then” you chime, wrapping your arm around her waist and hoisting her over your shoulder, you suppress a giggle at the noise she makes when you do.
As you climb down you wonder how you’re this strong, you don’t quite remember how, you give a mental shrug and reach the ground, sitting her down and checking to make sure the part is still in your sweatshirts pocket, it is, you notice her trying to thank you and do you best to pay attention
“Kent! Thank you Agent Kent.” Is what you catch of what she was saying, the name his you like a truck, you haven’t had a nickname that you hadn’t given yourself, you smile stupidly and repeat the name
“Kent” you say, your smile widening, “you called me Kent” you practically squeal and hug her before you know quite what you’re doing
**
Your name is Jane, and you are so excited about new underwear from Aunt May, oh, and chips! You expressed this with an unwarranted shout as you open the box in your room, read the note, and hang up the new trinket she had sent you, you make a note to write her back after dinner.
**
Today you are Agent Kentucky again, and as Agent Kentucky you are going to be implanted with an artificial intelligence unit, you think its name was Zeta, you’re lying on your stomach on a medical table, shaking, your mind is racing and the doctor asks you to try and calm down, so you do but your mind still buzzes with thought. A firm hand holds you in place from your shoulder, you feel a pinch, and then you feel sick.
You wake up some time later in the infirmary with a voice talking from a small purple hologram floating in your blurred vision, it asks for pain meds for you and you thank it once everyone has left.
Zeta was a good AI, quick and calculating, a big help when fighting. Zeta was Honesty, uptight, unwarranted, unbridled, honesty, but at the very least her voice was nice. The honest part gets on your nerves sometimes, not that you lie, but holy shit you’re not blunt about everything, and you most certainly don’t tell everyone everything always.
This first time you’re witness to this honesty was when one of the ship's regular crew had asked you how you were doing. You politely responded that you were fine, and that’s when she hoved over your shoulder like an overbearing parent. “Agent Kentucky is experiencing a recorded 20% deficiency in motivation today”
It was hard to smile like you always did when you were suddenly at constant threat of your true feelings being revealed.
**
It’s two or four in the morning, you don’t remember what your name is, all you can think is ‘Alison, Alison, Alpha, Alison, Alpha” you’re screaming you think, you don’t remember if that noise was there before, or even if it’s coming from your own throat, all you know is this happens far too often. You don’t think you are in your room, or anyone else’s for that matter, you’re hiding where you hope no one will find you.
Your name is Kent, you hope, you’re in your bed and you don’t know why because you don’t think you remember being in it, you try to think why that is but your head pounds and you roll over to see a small tray with some food, and a glass of juice with a smiley face sticky note on it, you smile and for once in a long time, it’s genuine.
**
Your name is Kent and you yell at Arizona to get out, you tell her to save her skin and run. This is what you signed on for right, to help someone.
Your name is Agent Kentucky and you watch your best friend turn tail and run, you watch from the ground where the screaming just gets louder “Alison” Zeta screeches in your brain, and suddenly she goes silent and the light coming from the door is blocked and your ears are filled with growling as you stand to face your death, you think you made a joke, something about his hair maybe, you let out a strangled laugh as he pulls the brute shot off of his back, you don’t think you remember much after that just how dark it was, just how you would miss everyone.
**
Once again you are Agent Kentucky, and once again you wake up to a bright light and a voice, and for a moment you think you’re reliving your integration with zeta, where was zeta, she was always the first thing you heard when you woke up and the last you heard when you fell asleep at night, you realize the voice is calling your name this time and you bitch about how bright the light is when you open your eyes, you stop. You were not supposed to be opening your eyes again, you ask if your dead and someone chuckles “no but you’d probably be better off if you were.” The bitter statement comes from the bed beside you.
You spend the next while recovering, not being able to sleep in when the lights went out at night didn’t help this process. You blink your eyes slowly in the dark for a very long time one night until a small purple blue glow finds its way to your bedside table, you mistake it for zeta for a moment and nearly scream until you look over at it to see a small mobile you had given AZ so long ago, you smile and fall asleep to it’s soft glow.
**
Your name is Kent and you’ve spent the past who knows how long searching for your best friend, a woman who thinks you’re dead, you’re about to give up when you come across a flyer for a race featuring a woman called Arizona Ryder, and decide to give it one last chance.
Your name is Kent and you finally found her, and it’s all you can do not to tackle her into the ground because while she feels great now, AZ is in pretty bad shape, you take her back to her place and put her in bed, there’s time for a reunion in the morning.
**
You’re Kent, she’s Arizona, and them, and they’re a rebel army. You can’t believe you found your way into another war, but here you are, meeting your new squads, you can’t explain why but you keep your helmet on for this, maybe you’re nervous to meet them. Suddenly you’re glad for it because one man of AZ’s squad takes his helmet off and you can feel your face heat up as he formally introduces himself but you don’t hear a word he says.
**
His name is Peppers, he’s younger than he looks, the stick up his ass having aged him poorly. But he’s sweet, you’re sitting in a field with him waiting for some sort of surprise that he promised you and talking. He tells you that this isn’t his home, that he left his home and his many brothers (so many brothers) to travel and had crashed here.
At some point in your conversation, little lights had risen from the ground, floating and drifting in the air like a thousand tiny stars. “They’re called fireflies” He laughs at your look of wonder. The two of you run in that field for hours and it’s one of your favorite memories.
**
Your name is Captain Kentucky and for once the mission is a success, you lead your team back to the rendezvous point, information in the hands of your lieutenant, you can’t help but think that AZ’s squad sounds awfully quiet when they should be celebrating. As if on cue, the com crackles to life. You began to grin, you hoist your gun to rest on your shoulder, and wait. The com is quiet, you ask what’s going on over there, no one answers for a moment, and you stop. You almost have to speak again before Peppers comes on “This is Lieutenant Peter Peppers speaking,” his voice is stiff, not unusual for him but it still makes you worry “Captain Kentucky, do you copy?” you tell him that you’re right here, Only static for a moment before Peppers tries to speak. “Captain—” he pauses you hear him take a shaky, staticy, breath, you wait ,feeling helpless when that’s all you can do, and in no way prepared for what comes next “Captain Arizona is dead.”
You drop your gun and break into a full sprint, you never liked running. You break through a ring of people, you shout for AZ, Arizona, Natalie, Elizabeth, anyone, as you lurch towards her stilled body with a gaping hole. There’s a hand on your shoulder now, you don’t know who’s it is, you don’t care, they lead you back to the ship and someone pats you on the back solemnly. You know that you lose people, this is war, not everybody makes it back, but if either of you were supposed to die; it was you, not her, never her.
Condolences… You wish you’d never found out what it meant.
**
You don’t care what your name is, and you don’t care that you and he never had a ‘real’ relationship before this because now you have him pinned to a wall, fists balled into his shirt, and your lips pressed fervently to his. The way he pushes back is nice but you wish he didn’t treat you like you were going to break. Even if you felt like you where.
You fumble with your door and stumble inside, passion put to good use for a night.
**
You are captain Kentucky, war hero, or the people you’re letting out of these cells sure seem to think so, you’re on your last block, the last cell and then it’s done, it’s over, but you’re not prepared for when a familiar face, an old friend, comes out, bruised and battered, and one armed, you bear hug him, almost crushing him, asking him how he’s alive but you don’t really care as long as he is, you pick him up, he makes a bad joke, and you cradle him back to base. Glad that out of all the people you’d ever known, Delaware was the one to come back.
**
You’re Kent now, just Kent, and damn are you happy about that. You and Peppers (and sometimes Delaware) have a bar on a ‘nice’ little planet; you’ve got a garden out back and an apartment up top and people around all day. You miss your best friend some days more than others and peppers is there to tell you everything will be fine. Life is going pretty good right about now, Peppers family is due to come visit in a few days and they remind you of The family you’d always wanted.
**
You’re agent Kentucky and you are dreaming, but you don’t know it yet, you dream of the meta coming for you, you dream of that thick black darkness only penetrated by Zeta’s glow, you dream of Zeta screaming, and of AZ’s dead body cradled in Peppers arms, sometimes the dream changes to where you are the one standing there, you are cradling your best friends body, but there is not a ring of people in this one, just more bodies, the ones of other freelancers and the ones of Peppers and Delaware.
Suddenly you’re awake and screaming and then you are being helped. You vaguely register Peppers as he picks you up, puts you back on the couch and lets you lean your back into his chest and holds you, humming softly. He doesn’t know what you dream about, all he knows are the screams, the names, and that he cares enough about you to hold you tight.
**
Your name is Kent, you’ve had a lot of names over the years but this one had meant the most to you by far, you don’t know what happened, you don’t want to know, all you can think of is how you’ve seen this sort of think inky darkness once before, but this time, you don’t think you’re going to open your eyes from it.