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Steam hissed sharply through the air overhead, the train wheels going takatakatakatak as the train itself barreled uncontrollably down the incline. The last curve they’d bent around had had a rock face going up on one side and a steep cliff going down on the other side, and Tango had no doubt the next would as well–the sun had set hours ago, though, and it was far too dark outside now for him to see his doom approaching ahead.
The conductor laid dead on the floor of the engine, not far from where the redstone circuits were heating the water into steam to power the train itself. The throttle was jammed forward–the gauge of how much the train could take before the engine itself began to fail was steadily pressed as far as it went, all the way into the red.
Gem peered through the small pane of glass bolted into the door to the walkway on the outside of the train, blood stains slowly crawling up the sleeves and hems of her dress, hair tangling wildly as strands of it fell from her braided bun. A flicker of moonlight cut through the window on the side of the cabin, cutting through her just as cleanly, and Tango jerked his attention away from her and to the throttle once more.
“Two more,” Gem reported grimly, her voice flickering in and out of tangibility and ghostly vocalization alike as the copper wiring and lights overhead began to burn out with the power overload. “I’ll hold them off as long as I can. Do what you need to.”
Tango grimaced and didn’t bother responding–she couldn’t hear him from here, after all, not with the distance between them, not with the dangerous pitch of the steam squealing from every opening in the engine box–and put a hand to his right leg. The knee joint was well and truly shot after that last struggle, but he could lock it into position if he just pressed and- yep. Clunky, but functional.
His left arm was much less functional, the copper and redstone wring hanging where the saboteur who’d killed the conductor had slashed through the exposed bits. He could lift the arm as a whole, though lopsided, with one functional hydraulics tube–and did, to brace himself as he leaned over the controls of the train and grabbed the throttle to try and unjam it.
Fifty damned loops to get here, the exhaustion of each past attempt dragging on Tango’s mind and body, and still he couldn’t afford to let his hand slip as he grabbed and-
The train tilted sideways as they began to round a curve at too high a speed, and Tango gritted his teeth as he yanked on the unmoving throttle. He couldn’t see what was jammificating this thing, stopping it from coming loose, but this was bad. Bad bad.
The steam was far too shrill for how long it had taken them to get this far, too much for the dull pounding in the back of his head. The dying screams of the engine still didn’t cover the pained gasp that tore from Gem’s projection before it vanished from Tango’s periphery entirely.
“Gem?” Tango hollered over his shoulder anyway–it still probably wouldn’t reach her outside, what with the way they were thundering to their deaths over the tracks and everything associated, but he had to try. He couldn’t not.
He didn’t hear a response.
Not that it mattered. He would loop the night as many times as it took for the two of them to get out of this hell alive.
The train clicked and pitched, the sound of the wheels on the track going dangerously silent. The engine pitched off the tracks entirely, tipping somewhere steep and far below. And with it-
Tango fell.
Reached.
And pulled
himself back to the temporal point he’d set earlier in the day.
He blinked away the darkness tunneling around his vision as Gem grabbed his shoulders, the touch agony to his over-stressed system. Rewinding time undid the physical effects of being up all night trying to survive, but his nerves still remembered. His body had still lived through fifty-one attempts of trying to make it through the night, without rest (much less proper rest).
“Woah,” Gem said, her eyes searching his as he stared at her, as he processed the way she was holding a not-insignificant amount of his weight, keeping him up like he was an automaton with failed components. “You alright?”
He looked around rapidly, taking in his surroundings. Warm wooden panels, pale fabric on the window and small bed, a small storage area.
He was successfully back in the cramped sleeping room, standing next to the window that he’d just drawn the curtain on fifty-one cycles ago to block out the setting sun so it didn’t blind them before they went into the mountain stretch of their overnight trip.
“We have two hours before people on this train try to kill us,” he said.
Gem’s expression immediately changed to grim understanding. She knew his power, knew he must have rewound time–not how many times, but that it had happened.
“The furthest we’ve made it is about 3 am. There are at least six in the group–last time, they sabotaged the engine and doomificated everyone on board just to try and get the job done. They may have done that other times, too, I don’t know, just-”
Gem’s grip tightened on his shoulders. “Breathe. Two hours until the first attempt, you said?”
He nodded.
“Where does it come from?”
“They lockpick the door.” He nodded at it–it was a normal train door, designed for privacy and made of simple wood. “Two of them. They have blaze blades. After that is-” He made a face as he shuffled through the memories of the several dozen cycles that had made it past the two initial attackers. “It varies. As soon as we’re in the main area of the train, they’re more subtle about it, trying to get us away from the public areas until they clear out. A lot of trying to separate us. Uh.”
Gem nodded slowly. “And eventually they get desperate enough to kill everyone instead of just us.”
“Right.”
Gem finally released him, and he took a step back with the swaying of the train. The steam in the pipes overhead hissed at a normal speed and frequency, even burbling softly as some of it condensed. The rails underneath went tak. tak. tak. at a regular pace, the curtain over the window swaying gently at the movement.
She nodded again, more firmly this time. “Right. Well, let’s hope this is the last time you have to rewind time.”
Tango didn’t tell her she’d said twenty out of the last thirty times.
They prepared quietly but quickly. They both always carried basic weapons, but Tango had a custom redstone-powered hand crossbow in his bag and the arrows were… hard to come by, this far out from base or any workshop that would let him make them himself. And too dangerous to carry on him all the time, what with the careful combination of gunpowder and ignition components.
Gem, well, Gem had a much more personal and pointed selection in the breeze revolver she kept at a holster on her hip, the sniper rifle she had slung across her back with scopes she could mirror across her projection, and the curved knife with the sheath she laced into the custom space at the small of her back.
Tango had always thought her weapons skill to be incredibly attractive of her, but, well. Surely she had better prospects than someone nearly twice her age–surely she had better prospects than him, no matter how he felt about her.
Their potion supply was running low–something Tango had been excruciatingly aware of for forty-odd cycles–but there was nothing to be done. They each took one of the remaining three, and Gem insisted on giving the extra to Tango “so you can survive long enough to rewind us”.
He didn’t tell her it happened automatically if he died–he’d found that out years ago, on the airship. He kind of wished he had, because then the two of them might have taken one for this last leg of travel, despite his feelings (and nightmares) about it, and they wouldn’t have been here.
The chance to do that was past his temporal point. It didn’t matter.
Ten minutes were left on the clock when Gem nodded firmly at him, and he nodded back, opening the small window in the room as far as it would go. This part of the plan only worked because they were both smaller than some of the others–he couldn’t imagine someone like Doc being able to wedge himself out, even among the height of desperation.
It wasn’t pleasant, squirming out of the window of a train climbing a mountain pass. Tree branches, trimmed close to dodge the train, whipped against his arms and back as he suddenly intruded in their space.
The thin metal rail protruding over the window was more decorative than functional, but the two of them weren’t highly trained for nothing, and Tango clung onto it with everything he had as the train swayed back and forth on the tracks. The gentle motion of the carriage suddenly felt all the worse while doing his best impression of a spider.
He had no idea how Gem ever managed this, but every time he glanced back (every damned cycle), she pulled herself out of the window like it wasn’t a herculean task of coordination with the dress and weapons she was wearing and followed him along.
It was slow going–they had to pause anytime someone in one of the other sleeping rooms was near a window, though most weren’t. They took it slow every time someone had their copper bulb lights on, instead of the room being dark. The fingers on his born hand were starting to ache and cramp by the time they reached the ladder maintenance workers used to get to the top of the car and he pulled himself onto it.
He slowly peeked over the roof, checking for signs of their would-be-murderers, and checked down the length of the carriage before pulling himself up fully onto the top of it and turned, reaching a hand down to Gem.
She shifted as she climbed up, grabbing his hand the last little bit and pulling. Instead of letting go like every other time she’d taken his hand, though, she paused and then she rolled on top of him, her chest heaving against his despite the corsets they both wore, and looked down at him.
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips.
“Don’t tell me how many cycles I’ve done that in,” Gem murmured as she pulled away. “I nearly didn’t–I don’t want to know how many times I was braver.”
Tango blinked up at her, their fingers still intertwined from when he’d pulled her up only a moment ago, and felt the heat on his cheeks. “I’m- uh. Okay.”
She hadn’t. Not once. And- she’d thought about it?
Oh no. Variables he didn’t know. Which surely meant they weren’t going to survive–if he’d missed this, what else had he missed?
And if they weren’t going to survive, well.
Tango leaned up as she pulled away, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Quick, as hasty as his decision. He’d been thinking about it for months, but- it was probably best she wouldn’t remember it, when he had to cycle again.
Gem chortled at that, which Tango didn’t even bother trying to unravel–it wouldn’t matter! He’d missed too much the other times, clearly–and rose into a low crouch as soon as she got off of him.
They’d talked over the plan as they prepared, what the most common things were to happen in all the cycles. (Tango hadn’t worded it like that, of course, hadn’t wanted to worry Gem about how many attempts this was taking, but- she knew it was more than a few.) So they both knew the plan this time was to creep their way back towards the engine, to try and head off early sabotage.
Beyond that, well Tango had very little idea what the night was actually going to hold, given all of the previous attempts at this. He never told Gem that, because he felt it would be unfair to crush her hopes, but it was the truth: he, even with all of his time-rewinding the powers, had no more idea of what might happen than any other person.
The two of them crept along the top of the train slowly, each and every sway of the tracks underneath them sending unease down his spine. Gem never seemed to falter though, so he kept going like he knew what he was doing.
One would think he would, after all that he had been through in this eternal night. However, it wasn't really like he'd been able to predict how so many things had gone. He still wasn't going to tell Gem that. For instance: they’d never gone to the front of the train before–they’d always gone to the back. More variables.
Gem shot a look over her shoulder, like she knew his thoughts, and frowned at him. She jerked her head towards the engine, and pointed towards something he couldn't see. Or, more likely towards someone he couldn't see. Tango didn't like this thought, because it would mean that the saboteurs were already at the engine, and that the worst situation really was the real one.
What other choice did they have but to proceed though? There was too much at stake. Especially if the reason they ended up being targeted was because the saboteurs had realized who Tango and Gem were and had decided to stop them before they could stop them, and their plan was to derail this train the entire time.
But why? That simply didn't make sense. Clearly Tango was missing something. He hated not having information. Especially when it was a matter of life and death.
Things were different this time around, that much was clear. Between the kiss they had shared (an entire kiss!), and the fact that Gem had taken the lead, so much had already changed from the single plan that they had already outlined in the sleeping room.
How badly Tango missed when they had been boarding the train, joking about writing up the report of their months-long trip. How badly he wanted to be writing that report.
As they approached the steam tank behind the engine, Gem slowed her approach. She had clearly seen something–or someone–that Tango hadn't. He'd known it was a strong possibility as they got closer and closer to their goal, which is why he remained silent, but it didn't ease his nerves at all.
He looked over at Gem curiously, but kept glancing at the boiler tank ahead, trying to listen for danger approaching. With the speed the train was traveling at, all he could hear was the whistling of the wind, the thundering of the tracks, and his own heartbeat in his ears. No signs of anyone approaching behind them, or clinging on the sides of the train as they had done less than an hour ago.
Gem crouched, pulling up the scope of her sniper rifle, and peered through it. After a moment, she gestured for Tango to join her. He did so, crouching next to her, and she held out the scope of her rifle to him, keeping it pointed at something he couldn't see.
“Is that one of our less-than-gentleman?” she asked, as quietly as she could with the two of them being on the roof of a moving steam train. “You would recognize them better than I, given that you have met them before.”
Tango peered through the scope, trying to see what she had seen, and stared at the sight of a figure with clean-shaven features and a gas mask over the lower half of his face confronting the conductor. The conductor didn't seem very happy with this stranger, but also didn't seem very surprised to have him around. The conductor was wearing a similar gas mask around his neck, lowered as if to get a better breath of fresh air or something–though Tango wasn't quite sure why one would lower it if it was offering any sort of protection in the cabin itself.
However, it offered an interesting perspective that he hadn't thought of: that one of the saboteurs or, several of them, might be members of the staff. He hadn't gotten good looks at most of them, and certainly not at their exact clothes, so it was possible.
Many things were possible, though Tango was below to admit it. Still, he did in fact recognize this gas-masked stranger. So he nodded, and pushed the scope back towards Gem.
She didn't seem surprised by that–though how she knew, Tango had no idea. It was probably just one of the things that made her great. There were a lot of those.
He was still trying very, very hard not to think about the kiss. The implications of the kiss. He was failing, of course, but he was trying.
Gem stared at the stranger who would eventually kill her, or at least would in twenty other timelines, and narrowed her eyes. The stranger technically hadn't committed a crime yet, or at least not in this timeline. And while other agencies might be all right with them taking preemptive judgment into their own hands, they didn't do that. That was why they got their contracts, why they got their clients, why Tango and Gem had gotten into this whole thing, this whole months-long project in the north, because they had their code of conduct.
Gem put her rifle back on her back. Stood back in her crouch, and began the slow approach forward once more.
They'd stepped on the boiler three other times. They’d made it across once. It had gone well twice, and had gone extremely poorly once. Tango was really, really hoping that this went well. At the very least, he wanted it to go neutrally. That one time it had gone wrong, they had all ended up exploding. That hadn't been fun, and in fact he would rate it zero out of ten. Did not recommend.
That had sent him flying through the air, which was an ending he was more than familiar with during his times resetting the cycle. It had happened fully a dozen times or so? Including the most recent one, when the train had derailed around that curve. He really hadn't enjoyed the sensation of the entire train falling, however, and- well he wanted to avoid all of that, ideally.
(None of this had been ideal. He was going to be filing a very long complaint with Xisuma when he was done. He was sure Gem would as well, and also would probably be putting in for a different partner. Even after the kiss. Maybe because of the kiss.)
It was impossible to hear what the stranger and the conductor were discussing from their vantage point on top of the boiler. The noises of the engine and the steam itself were simply too loud. That didn't stop Tango from pressing himself into the coolest spot available, because the boiler was scalding, even on the reinforcements they put on for maintenance. Copper and redstone sure did heat this up for the steam.
The conductor gestured vigorously towards the back of the train, and it didn't turn away. The stranger crossed his arms, leaning against the door frame of the cabin. The conductor said something else, pulling up his gas mask once more, and turned away from the stranger. The stranger moved, something sharp glinting in his hand-
Gem was faster. Tango hadn't seen her setting up her rifle again, but he saw her shoot, her finger squeeze on the trigger, deploying its small payload. One of her specialized bullets- a tranquilizer, rather than something that was designed to kill. It would hurt, of course, and Tango knew that for a fact– he'd been hit by one before, in training. But it would allow them to take this stranger somewhere secure, to let the proper authorities take over. To not take justice into their own hands, when it wasn't necessary.
gggchhhkk went the pressurized hydraulics of her rifle, barely audible to even Tango, right next to her.
The stranger hit the floor, in a slow and a staggery sort of way. Anyone else might have thought he was overcome with too much alcohol, or perhaps a sudden illness. If he said anything, the conductor seemed to pay him a little mind, in fact not even looking over his shoulder.
They must have been arguing, then. Tango could think of no other reason for them to treat each other like that. Especially when he could tell, this close, that their gas masks were near-identical.
Then the conductor did, in fact, look over his shoulder, and stiffened. They weren’t arguing that badly, then, as the conductor left whatever he was doing at the engine and crouched next to the stranger.
After a moment, where it became obvious the conductor had no first aid or triage training, the conductor put his hands under the stranger’s shoulders and pulled him into the boiler room. Tango could barely hear the door close underneath them, but as soon as it was, he was creeping forward once again.
He waited just a moment, just to make sure the conductor wasn't coming back out, before turning himself over the edge and dropping down onto the platform below. He turned, heading into the cabin of the engine. Gem was close behind him.
The two of them carefully slid inside the engine room, the space somehow the same and also different as Tango remembered. It had only been a few hours since he had last been here, after all, and it hadn't happened. Or, at least not yet.
The place smelled acridic, coal and redstone, of steam too sharp to be normal. Tango didn't know what exactly was happening, but he knew there was more going on. He knew something had to be happening.
Gem clearly realized the same thing he did, because she gave him a curious look. When he sniffed the air, she did too, though she didn't have the same experience in mechanisms and redstone that he did in order to understand exactly what was wrong. Still, she had been around him enough, and her eyebrows furrowed as she smelled what he had.
“Is that more sabotage?”
“I don't know.”
The two of them examined the room around them, trying to evaluate exactly what had happened. Had the stranger gotten into something already, and the conductor caught it? Or, was the conductor in on this as well? What, exactly, was the situation? How would they get out of this alive? How did they fix this when they didn't even know what was wrong?
“He won't be gone for long,” Gem said, moving forward to the controls. “I'll tell you if I see something obviously wrong, but you have to tell me if there's something else. And we watch each other's backs.”
“Just one moment,” Tango said, crouching next to the closed door. “I'm going to jam this closed. It will buy us a little bit of time.”
Not a lot of time. Any time was time they could use.
It didn't take him long to jam the door closed, not with his expertise. He'd built his own limbs, something like a door was child's play–pressing an extra pin from his tinker bag into the lock to keep things from turning properly, while delicate work on a moving train while wearing thick gloves, was straightforward enough to do the job.
As he turned back around, Gem had uncovered something from near the control box–it had a strange number of tubes and copper wires coming out of it, and was oddly shaped in a way Tango couldn't quite place.
The smell, however, was coming from it.
“I don't know what it is,” Gem said, nodding at it. Tango tried not to notice the way parts of her hair had fallen out of her bun and were framing her face in a rather feral and delicious way. “Seems connected, though, whatever it is.”
Tango examined it, absently brushing his hand against his ammo bag. It was still secure, still waiting for him to pull an explosive arrow out–something he didn't want to do, given the cramped circumstances of the train. But it was comforting, and a calming move that helped distract him from thinking about kissing Gem again–helped him keep focused on the device in front of them.
It seemed to be fused into the wiring of the panel of the engine itself. It was tucked into a corner of the room, so Tango wasn't sure if it had been there last time or not–he’d been a little busy, with everything, and hadn't even checked.
He wasn’t sure he knew enough about trains specifically to be able to tell what this could do from just staring at it, but- it might have had something to do with the throttle getting jammed all the way forward? Maybe activating some sort of lock mechanism he couldn’t see, maybe activating some sort of extra electrical pulse that froze the throttle bits in place? Maybe something else entirely, but those were his best guesses.
“We should disconnect it,” he said. “I’d rather bring this entire thing to a stop than send us careening over a cliff because it messes with everything.”
Gem gave him a long look, the sort that meant he hadn’t hid the end of their last cycle in that as well as he’d like, but nodded and pulled out her revolver and knife both and stood tucked into the shadow next to the door.
“I’ll hold the door if anyone tries to break through,” she said. “Watch your back. You got this.”
The device itself didn't seem too complicated. Tango stared at it, trying to understand it for just a moment longer, before staring at what it was connected to. The nodes were something else entirely, though, as they were things he didn't understand. In theory, his general mechanical knowledge would take him far – or at least far enough.
Okay, that one- that one was definitely connected to a power source. And that one, that one was connected to some sort of fluctuation thingamajig…. The one next to that, that one appeared to be a tempering device of some sort, something that would likely have to be done and detached carefully, else it would blow this entire thing up in his face. And the last wire, that one seemed to be buried deep within the controls itself, and Tango couldn't see where it went. More variables. Delightful.
He’d successfully ignored it so far, but his head was starting to hurt–had been hurting, with a dull sort of throbbing pound–from all of the time cycling he'd been doing so far. He hadn't mentioned it to Gem, because there wasn't any point. But he felt it, oh he felt it.
(He really, really didn't want to think about how long it had been since he'd actually last slept. Longer than it had been since he'd last eaten, that much was for certain. He definitely wasn't going to tell Gem the answer to that question.)
Nothing to do but hope, he supposed, and if things went really wrong, he would always cycle time once again. Which wasn’t a comfort, but it was something.
He started with the power wire. That one disconnected easily, and he carefully coiled it on itself. The device seemed to stutter a bit at that, but the smell didn't dissipate. Jerk.
Satisfied he wasn't going to get electrocuted, at least, Tango went about disconnecting the other two wires slowly and carefully. He tried to make note of what he did and in what order, in case he died and automatically reset to his temporal point. It would help, if that happened.
It didn't happen, though. He managed to disconnect the copper wires from the control panel in one piece, somehow, and he really didn't know how he would do that again if he had to. Still, he slowly stood from his crouch, and looked over at Gem. She was looking through the small glass on the door, but her gaze flicked to him as he stood.
“All done?” she asked.
“As good as I can get it.”
She nodded, as if she’d expected nothing else but success, and slid away from the door. The train was continuing to trundle on, as if the conductor didn't feel a need to attend to it at all, and Tango didn't know how he felt about that. He decided to not think about it at all, and instead turned his attention to the throttle. Last time, this had been jammed all the way forward. It looked untouched currently, but he wanted to make sure it would stay that way.
There were clearly quite a few knobs and dials that would begin the process of starting with the steam that powered the train itself, but Tango ignored those for now. The throttle itself sat in a well-loved groove, propelling the train in a study and slow climb forward. A quick glance outside the window proved that they were well and truly within the mountain canyons now, and that they would begin their true ascent shortly.
Where was the conductor? Surely it had been long enough for him to take the stranger to assistance. Surely, he would be on his way back to make sure the train was running appropriately. Surely he wasn't content to just leave the train pressing forward on the tracks by itself. Surely not.
And yet, the two of them were uninterrupted, here in the engine. Horrifically. Yet another variable.
He hated variables.
How long could they stay here? How long did they have before someone came to investigate? Was it safe for them to be here? Was it better for them to go somewhere else?
“You're thinking too hard again,” Gem said wryly. “That means things are different this time around, doesn't it. Things have changed, haven't they.”
The lack of question in her voice proved that she already knew the answer to that.
Tango hated that, too.
“They have. I don't know what's next.”
“Same thing we've been doing all night, I think. Surviving.”
She had a point, unfortunately, and Tango hated it. Loved her, but hated her point.
He glanced through the tiny window, checking for the conductor, but there was still no sign of him. He looked back at Gem, then at the blanket that had covered the contraption hooked into the engine. Carefully, he drew the blanket back over it, hiding that he'd undone the work that had been so carefully done in the first place.
“I think we should hide, before he gets back. Get ourselves some space between here and there. In case.”
Gem looked around the engine room, and nodded. She glanced out the tiny window again, clearly scouring the area for signs of movement then jiggled the handle. Frowned. Looked at Tango.
“You jammed it,” she reminded.
“Right.” Tango leaned against the wall, even as the tracks rattled underneath them rhythmically. “I guess we're stuck in here for a while, then. Potentially all night.”
He hadn't meant for it to sound flirty, but the look Gem gave him made him think it came out that way.
“I'm not getting railed in the engine room over the rails,” Gem said flatly.
Tango couldn’t hold back the splutter that tore out of him. He hadn’t been thinking about that–not until Gem had mentioned it, at least. Not until now, when the briefest thought of her being the one to pin him, tell him what to do and take control as respite of this endless nightmarish situation, crossed his mind.
She’d kissed him. That didn’t mean she wanted to fuck him. Especially because a kiss, well, that could be denied later. Sex, well, that could ruin her reputation if anyone else heard about it. He couldn’t do that to her. She couldn’t want him to do that to her.
So. He slid up next to her, hyper aware of just how close the two of them were, of how delightful it would be to have his fingers trail under her dress and her fingers anywhere she wanted them, and carefully wiggled the pin jam out of the door.
Gem swung the door open immediately, revolver held at her side, and hurried out of the engine room. Tango followed close behind her, the two of them climbing back up the ladder to the top of the boiler once again.
There was someone else on the roof–three others, someones Tango unfortunately recognized.
“Look out!” he warned, even as the three others saw the two of them. “Part of the group.”
There were a lot of things he’d told Gem about each of the members of the group that tried to kill them. There were probably more things he could’ve told her, but there wasn’t enough time in the world to tell her everything he’d learned in his loops so far.
The important information about these ones was immediately confirmed as they readied their own weapons–they were armed similarly to Gem.
He wasn’t letting her die again.
The thought was the only thing in his mind as he made the only decision he could when they were being shot at on the roof of a moving train:
He pushed Gem out of the way of the oncoming shots.
This decision, of course, hurt quite a lot. Agony blossomed across Tango's side and hip. The world spun, and he collapsed to the roof of the train car all at once. Gem cried out something indistinguishable, something angry, but he couldn't quite make out what. Not with the world spinning around him.
More shots sounded, these ones directly above him, and he tried to push himself up to see what was happening. The world was spinning too hard, though, especially with the motion of the train itself.
“Get up,” Gem snapped, desperation and order combined in her voice, and Tango opened his eyes–not quite sure when he’d closed them.
Gem stood over him, her skirt whipping in the wind, lowering her rifle to take aim down the train. The hem of it was tinged with red.
Someone was getting up halfway down the car, halfway down the approach, staggering to their feet in a clear show of not being dead. They stood fully, and still gripping something, and Tango- well, he wasn't going to just let that happen.
He fumbled with his hand crossbow, the grip of it feeling a little strange in his hand (it was made for him specifically), his fingers feeling a little too clumsy, and managed to load a single bolt from the ammo bag pinned halfway under his hip.
The third assailant went down, crumpling entirely and rolling off the side of the train in a heap of limbs and dramatically billowing clothes. It looked like they cleared the rails, hopefully landing in such a way that would break their fall and not their skull, so Tango aimed at the one now raising their arm at Gem.
This one was the one who’d fired the first time. Whose gun was most definitely loaded with standard ammo, and had tried to kill them.
They’d gone for lethality first. This was just returning the favor.
Tango pulled the trigger on his hand crossbow.
Whether or not he hit directly didn’t matter so much, not with that ammo, but he hit, and hit well enough the attempted murderer was launched off their feet and tossed to the side in a manner that would be almost comical if it wasn’t a matter of life and death.
Gem dropped to one knee, setting her rifle to the side, and dug her knife into the hem of her skirt. Tango blinked, the world spinning again- and she was over him with her knees pressed on either side of his hips, digging one hand into his side. His hip felt painfully full, like she’d packed it to-
“Stay awake this time,” Gem ordered, eyes flicking up to meet his. “I’m packing your wounds so you don’t bleed out. You idiot.”
“You were going to get shot,” Tango said, because what else could he say? What else was there for him to say about how badly he couldn’t do it alone? “It was selfish, I know.”
Gem stared at him incredulously.
“Selfish?” she cried, jamming a bit of her skirt rather pointedly into his hip. “That was one of the most selfless things I've seen in a long time. Maybe in my entire life. You saved my life.” She gave him a long and hard look. “And you didn't even hesitate. Have you done that before? In the other timelines?”
Despite himself, despite feeling like he couldn't take a full breath, Tango laughed. “Me? I'm a coward. You know that. That's why you have most of the weapons.”
He was dying, wasn't he? That's what this feeling was, that's why he felt so strange. This entire cycle, all of this work he and Gem had put in, it wasn't going to matter in just a few moments. It was all going to reset when he died.
He knew the variables were going to get them.
Gem said something else, sounding put out by his description of himself, but he couldn't quite make out the words. The gentle sway of the train, the sound of the wheels going over the tracks, all of it felt quite soothing all of a sudden. All of it felt like he should just… drift off. Let unconsciousness claim him.
Gem’s hands dug into him, her voice pitching upwards, but her words were completely lost to him.
It was a struggle, to open his eyes, to perceive the world around him, but he wanted to. Everything seemed strange, though he didn't know how. It was… still, and quiet. Not how it should have been, not the start of a new cycle.
He was in a bed. In a room, fairly nondescript. He even seemed to be next to a window, though the curtains were drawn and he couldn't see outside. He could hear a street outside, the sounds of people and animals, the sounds of civilization. Not the sounds of a train going through the mountain pass.
He hurt. He hurt even more, if he thought about it. He resolved not to think about it.
There was warmth next to him. It took him effort to turn his head, to look, but he was glad he did. Gem was there, hand resting on his bed next to him. She was asleep in a chair, hair disheveled around her face, still wearing the dress she'd worn on the train.
Well, except it was clean.
How much time had he missed? It wasn't like he was a stranger to unconsciousness, having lost nearly a week after the airship accident, but this… this was different. This felt different.
He reached over, touching his hand to hers. That simple movement was tiring, which wasn't a promising sign, but he supposed he'd probably lost a lot of blood. He was familiar with how that went, too.
She woke nearly immediately, gaze lingering on their fingers before moving to him. Immediately, her expression brightened. She leaned forward.
“We're at a safehouse,” she said, which did explain a lot. “One in the network. We couldn't make it all the way back, not with you in critical condition, but the doctors here have been very accommodating.”
Tango blinked at her. “Where,” he croaked, the word sticking in his throat. “Ow.”
Gem reached over to an unseen table, picking up a glass of water, and brought it over to Tango. “I'll help you sit up. Small sips. I'll explain what happened.”
And she did. People had heard the shots on top of the train, and had come investigating. They'd found Gem frantically trying to keep Tango alive, it helped her bring him inside. From there, a few people on board, fellow passengers, had had enough medical knowledge to help stabilize him. He hadn't woken, of course, or at least not enough to remember it, and it had taken several of them and a stretch of it to move him to the safe house once the train had arrived at the destination station.
“We're in town, though?”
She dipped her head. “We are. I sent word. Xisuma knows we're here, and has been instrumental in arranging care for you.”
Tango breathed a slow sigh of relief. They were out. Somehow, all of those variables had led to the correct answer. Terrifying.
Him and Gem kissing were in the final cycle. That was just as terrifying.
“We kissed,” he finally said, watching her over the rim of his glass. “Twice.”
She seemed rather smug about that.
“We did,” she agreed. “How many other cycles did we do that in?”
Tango shook his head. Glanced at the drawn curtains once more. The door to the outside of the room was closed.
“None,” he answered truthfully.
“Why would you choose to do that? Why would you want to kiss someone like me?”
She no longer seemed smug, giving him a rather annoyed look.
“I can't believe I fell in love with the world's most self-depreciating man,” she said flatly. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”
Tango stared at her.
Gem leaned forward.
And kissed him again.
This one, not rushed by the threat of life and death, and in an entirely different environment, was just as good as the first. Better, even. Her lips were chapped, and his probably were too, but they were hers, and that made them the best in the world. It made it perfect.
“I chose you on purpose, Tango. I requested you, on purpose. You are an amazing, capable man.” Gem spoke into the corner of his mouth. Her words were soft, but no less firm. “I will gladly spend every day of the rest of my life with you.”
“Oh,” Tango said, eloquently. He pressed his forehead against hers, thinking. “Then, can we kiss again? Or is that against doctor's orders?” He grinned, his mouth against hers. “Can you do things to me? Things definitely against doctor's orders?”
She had the audacity to laugh. “Once I'm sure it won't pull your stitches, we can try out some things. I'm not going to risk it until then.”
“That's so sexy of you.”
She grinned, though, and slyly raised her eyebrows. “I know.”