Work Text:
Catch your flies with honey, got your baby doll eyes
A trophy heart that just won’t let you cry
See, you’re obsessive and you caress with such a flat-footed sight
So lonely cause you’re phony and your low is a high, ‘cause…
Huey's headquarter was quiet – It was always too quiet. The whirr of his computer and the soft cllicks of his mechanic legs were the only sounds that filled the eternal silence that always surrounded Huey. He was standing in front of her computer, his face illuminated by the glow of the monitor. His eyes were strained, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked through yet another problem that seemed insurmountable. Concentrated, his fingers moved on the keyboard, it had been a long day. Weeks, even, of sleepless nights. His body screamed for rest, but his mind refused to relent. He always been like this to himself. He couldn't afford to sleep.
Suddendly, a loud door creaking noise filled the emptiness of his office. Chaperone just stood there, and Huey didn’t look up, fully immersed in his task. He could feel her presence, even without seeing her. It was a strange thing, the way she could fill a room without saying a word. It was very common for her to appear out of nowhere, he was used to these interruptions; it was not as if he disliked them. Chaperone, however, was patient. She knew Huey well enough by now to understand that he wouldn’t stop for a little chat.
She stepped closer, her boots making deliberate sounds against the floor. She placed a mug of coffee beside him, the scent wafting toward Huey as a surprise. Huey’s fingers froze mid-typing. A brief moment of hesitation passed, and then his gaze flickered to the cup, then up to the girl.
"I didn’t ask for this." He muttered under his breath, though his tone lacked a real reproach. He was defensive, but quickly calmed down.
"You've been working all day. Weeks. Years, maybe." Chaperone said, settling back against the railing, sitting up and supporting herself with her arms. There was a confident smile on her face, there always was. It irritated Huey. "I can't force you to sleep, I don't think you'll listen to me either. I'd rather encourage your bad habits then."
He hated it. Hated how the work never seemed to end. Hated how, even now, he felt the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. No one actually trusted him, but he trusted himself. That's all he needed. But there was something about the calmness of Chaperone’s voice that unsettled him, something that made him question himself. He sighed, and finally broke the silence. "You think I enjoy this?" He motioned to his desk, the papers, the notes, and his monitor. "I can’t stop. Not when my life is in game."
Chaperone’s lips twitched upward into that confident smile again. She was unfazed by his answer, almost amused by his outburst. "I never said you enjoyed it. But you do it anyway, don’t you?" Her gaze softened for a split second, but Huey couldn't see it as they were covered by her dark glasses. "No one ever said the path to progress was an easy one."
It made Huey a little angry. Suddenly a young girl, just starting out in life, came to explain to him that life wasn't easy. "What the fuck does she know about life?" Huey thought in his mind. But he didn’t know why, but her words felt different this time. Maybe it was because, in some strange way, she understood. Even if she had not experienced the disasters of life and the horrible things that a poor man like Huey lived through. He hated how her words seemed to find a way into his thoughts. And yet, despite his irritation, he couldn’t shake the sense that she was right. Chaperone wasn’t just any girl that worked in the same base than him; she was someone who had been through her own share of dispair. He knew that much about her. She wasn’t just some idealist that thought that everything was pink and roses. In a way, she was like him, obsessed with progress, willing to sacrifice anything for it. He didn't know why he couldn't just dismiss her like he did everyone else who tried to speak wisdom into his life.
The silence between them stretched, thick and heavy, only broken by the sounds of the machinery surrounding them. Huey’s hands rested on the edge of the desk, fingers curled slightly, tension still lingering in his knuckles. Chaperone didn’t move from her position against the railing, but there was something expectant in the air. Like she was waiting, just like always. He didn’t want to admit how much her presence steadied him, how she was the one constant that hadn’t turned on him yet. It scared him more than he’d ever admit, the fear that one day, even she would look at him the way the others did. With suspicion. With contempt. Hate. But not yet, not now. He could not afford that.
"Why do you keep coming here?" Huey muttered, his voice low, almost too quiet for the room. "You could go anywhere on this base — why this room?"
Chaperone leaned back, her shoulders shifting, crossing her arms below her chest. "Because someone has to make sure you don’t... Die, or something like that." she said abruptly, like if she got slightly nervous by that sudden question. But then, her smile faded just a touch, her voice softer. "And yeah, I like being here." Chaperone admitted.
That confession sat between them. Huey turned his head slightly, glancing at her over his shoulder. The monitor’s glow still on his face, highlighting his glasses, shadowing the tired lines beneath his eyes. "You like watching me drive myself into the ground?" Huey answered. He wasn't expecting that sudden admiration.
"I like watching you." The words left her lips so easily, as a matter of fact.
Huey’s breath caught in his throat, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face. His fingers clenched tighter on the desk, shifting his gaze back to the front. He didn't want to have eye contact with her after she admitted that, he wasn't going to show that weakness. That led him to think that he never really had eye contact with her, since he had made those sunglasses for her so long ago, he had never taken them off. "You don’t mean that."
"Why would I lie to you, Huey?" Her voice was low, intimate in the quiet room. "Of all people." She walked just behind him, close enough that he could fell her body warmth against his back. Her gloved fingers hovered just above his shoulder before settling there, her touch surprisingly delicate. He stiffened, not because he disliked her touch, but because he didn’t know how to react to it. Affection wasn’t something Huey had a lot on his life, not without strings attached, not without some hidden agenda. But Chaperone didn't seem to have one. She never didn't seem to actually hate him. Maybe he was being the problem here.
"You’ve been working too hard." she murmured, her fingers curling slightly, giving a slight squeeze. "You need a break." Huey wasn't umcomfortable. It wasn’t discomfort, not exactly. It was unfamiliarity. A touch without malice, without demand. He had forgotten what that felt like. The room felt smaller suddenly, the machinery’s hum faded to a distant whisper compared to the closeness of her body against his back. He wasn’t used to someone standing so close without it being a threat. Even his own wife had kept her distance by the end. "I come here because you’re the only one who doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid playing scientist. You see me. Like... I'm pretty sure you see me as inmature, but... You still see me, I don't know." Chaperone continued, slightly awkward by her words. She wasn't one to express her feelings, and she felt slightly weird by doing it. She couldn't find the words.
His fingers grabbed tightly the desk. He wanted to push her hand away, not because he didn’t want her touch, but because wanting it felt dangerous. But now she was here, and she wasn’t leaving, and it terrified him how much he didn’t want her to. "See you?" Huey’s voice was quiet. "I see a stubborn, reckless girl who’s too smart for her own good." His gaze stayed fixed on the monitor, unable to look at her even as the words slipped out. "And too damn loyal to someone like me. I'm only... Useful. That’s all I am," he muttered. "Useful. Until I’m not."
"Useful…" She repeated softly, almost to herself. The word tasted bitter on her tongue. She could understand him now, clearer than before. Huey’s whole existence had downed into that one concept in his head. Usefulness. She wondered if he realized how much of himself he had already surrendered to that idea, how much humanity had been carved away because of it. But Chaperone wasn’t the type to pity. She wasn't going to comfort him or try to make an epic salvation from his self-inducing madness. Her fingers slid from his shoulder, knuckles brushing the back of his neck for just a moment before she pulled away completely, her arm falling to her side again.
"Is that all you want to be?" Her voice was lower now, the teasing edge replaced by something quieter, raw, even. She liked him, but she was too self-conscious. If she didn't like something about him, she was going to say it out loud. "A tool? Something to be used?"
Huey’s jaw tightened. His hands trembled slightly, his eyes fixed on the monitor. "It’s not about what I want. It’s about what I have to be."
She took a slow breath, trying to ground herself. This was always how it was with him. Step too close, and he recoiled. Give him too much space, and he drifted even further into his own abyss. And yet, no matter how frustrating he was, she always found herself coming back. She told herself it was habit, or responsibility, or just keeping an eye on the most unpredictable member of the team. But it was never just that.
Huey gave a humorless chuckle, rubbing the bridge of his nose beneath his own glasses. "You’re young. You don’t get it yet."
"Right. Because you’re the only one who’s lost anything. The only one who’s been left behind, ever." Her brows lifted behind the shades. She was actually defensive for the first time, not being careful with her words, landing with a crack in the quiet headquarter. Huey flinched, but she didn’t let up.
Huey’s head dropped slightly, his hands flexing on the edge of the desk. He looked up, finally looking back, turning his head toward her. "So what?" he muttered. "What do you want me to say? That you understand me? That we’re the same?" That silence returned, thick and trembling with all the things neither of them could say. For a moment, Huey could almost convince himself it was just the machinery humming between them, but it wasn’t. It was her breath, steady and low. It was the weight of her body so close, not touching, but there. Present. And it scared the hell out of him.
"Why?" Huey whispered, not looking at her. "Why do you keep?-..."
Her hand caught his jaw, startling him into looking at her. She wasn’t smiling now, she wasn't doing it for a while. But now Huey could see it. The glasses made it impossible to read her eyes, but the rest of her expression left nothing to the imagination.
"Because you’re not just useful to me," she said. "You actually fucking matter to me."
"I-" His throat closed around the words before they could escape. He wasn’t ready to believe her words. He wasn’t ready for what it would mean if she was telling the truth. But she didn’t wait for him to figure it out. Her hand fell away from his face to her sides again, turning her back to him, her expression flickering back to something more neutral.
"I'm not asking you to believe what I say." She said, stepping back toward the door. "But I’m not gonna repeat it every day until you understand it. It's your problem." She paused, bending down to approach the ladder so that she could leave the room, glancing back at him over her shoulder. "I'll be back tomorrow. Try not to completely ruin your life by then."
A loud sound was heard, the loud thud of boots hitting the floor after having descended the ladder, leaving Huey alone in the quiet once again. Again, the room empty. Not even with her words echoing in his ears or his thoughts, and not with the ghost of her touch still lingering on his shoulder. He is not going to accept that type of feelings. Those thoughts were haunting the room, but he wasn't about to let them pass his cortex.
He didn’t know if she was right. He didn’t know if he deserved it. But for the first time in a very long time, he wanted to. He wanted to feel that warmth.
He took a sip of the coffee Chaperone had left for him, quickly spitting it out as it had already gone cold.