Chapter Text
Wash sighed for what felt like the billionth time that day. Today was not going well.
First, he’d had to practice hand to hand combat earlier that morning.
With South.
Normally, hand to hand combat practice was horrible. He was the team’s resident weapons specialist, not a fucking karate expert like everyone else seemed to be. Fighting South, of all people, was the just the icing on the cake. Icing that felt like a black eye and bruised ribs. Speaking of icing—he should probably drop by the medbay and grab ice. Everything hurt like hell.
After thoroughly getting his ass kicked, North had offered to help him improve his aim with a couple of his least favorite weapons—the sniper and the shotgun. Normally, Wash would be fine with that! He loved a chance to learn something new (anything but hand to hand combat), but North was obscenely proficient with both weapons. To top it all off, the aforementioned black eye didn’t help at all. He could barely see out of his left eye. Aiming became nearly impossible.
The Director ended up getting a little pissy with him because his scores were incredibly low.
And now, York had taken it upon himself to make fun of his black eye and low scores. All Wash wanted was lunch—he’d even gotten chocolate pudding, and he really wanted to enjoy it. But no. York was insisting on being an ass.
“Hey, Wash!” York singsonged, “Do you need help finding your plate? Y’know, since your beautiful black eye messed up your vision so much.” York tried to slip Wash’s tray away.
Wash slammed his arms around his tray before pulling it back. “Stop trying to steal my pudding!” His voice was beginning to squeak, and South snickered at him. Great.
“I’m only trying to help!” The tan agent held his hands up in surrender. The bastard was trying not to laugh.
Wash scowled. “Leave me and my food alone.” He slid a few inches away from York, who sighed dramatically.
“I try to help my friend, and this is what I get for it.” York waited a moment for Wash to respond before giving up and turning away, probably looking for someone else to bother.
Wash, honestly, almost wanted to cry. He’d had a rough day and wanted to go to sleep already. He didn’t have anything planned for the rest of the day—well, actually, his other trainings had been cancelled because of his swollen black eye. The Director had seemed so disappointed. Wash just wanted to go back to his bunk and curl up in a ball and ignore the world around him for a few hours.
He barely noticed Maine until the giant sat next to him. He didn’t bother to greet the bigger agent. Maine was pretty good at picking up on his moods and would leave him alone, hopefully. Wash dimly registered York turning his teasing banter over to Maine—something about allergies or an allergic reaction. Wash was too focused on the last few spoonfuls of chocolate pudding, and which book he’d like to read when he got back—
An incredibly loud noise assaulted Wash’s ears. Before Wash could think, he was moving. He jumped up, onto the bench, over the table, and flung himself to the ground. He covered his head—why had he taken his helmet off?!—and waited.
The cafeteria was completely silent.
Wash was too afraid to move. What the hell had happened? It sounded like an explosion, right next to his ears. Why weren’t alarms going off? Why weren’t people running?
And then—York. York was laughing. Hysterically.
Wash gingerly moved his arms away from his head and neck and glanced back at the table he’d sat at a few moments before. York was slumped over the table, laughing so hard his whole body shook. South started to laugh along with him, although it looked like she had been startled out of her seat as well; she sat on the floor a few feet away from the table. Maine—
Maine. Maine looked suspiciously guilty. The giant freelancer had a red nose and a box of tissues in front of him. The crew in the cafeteria started moving again.
“Is everything alright?” A voice behind Wash nearly sent him flying again. He whipped his head around and looked up. Carolina was glancing between the four of them, concern evident in her eyes. She wordlessly held her hand out to Wash and helped him to his feet. “What happened?”
York attempted to speak, but couldn’t get anything out through the laughs. Carolina glanced at Maine before raising an eyebrow at South. Wash gingerly jumped across the table, back to his previous seat, and ate the last spoonful of pudding.
“Maine did it!” South managed between gasps. “He fucking sneezed! Wash went flying!” South stood up and yelled, “Did anyone get a video of that?!”
Wash turned to Maine and glared. Maine smiled a little sheepishly and shrugged. Sorry, the giant seemed to say.
“You sneezed?!” Wash squeaked, “That sounded like an explosion!”
Maine’s smile grew a little, but the giant just shrugged again. Wash heard another laugh and turned to see Carolina’s shoulders shaking. She had a hand over her mouth, but her eyes crinkled at the sides.
“Oh, come on!” Wash said, “Stop laughing! He scared me!” His voice squeaked higher and higher, making the other agents laugh harder. Wash scowled. “Whatever,” He growled. He picked his tray up and deposited it neatly on the stack by the door before leaving, the other agents’ laughs growing more distant.
He slammed the door to his bunk shut and sighed heavily. Again. He changed into sweats and a T-shirt, and then curled up in his bed with the covers over his face. He was going to ignore the world (mostly York) until tomorrow morning, when he had to start training again.