Chapter Text
Carl rapt his knuckles on the door, unable to hold back a slight smile as he heard crashes and bangs coming from inside.
A very flustered Colt yanked the door open- his hair sticking out every which way, his crooked smile sporting a fresh split. Colt saw the way Carl’s gaze dropped to the cut immediately, and brought his hand up to hide his face, pretending to cough into it before flashing Carl a sheepish grin, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.
“Heyyy Carl, what’s up? What can I do ya for?” Colt said- wincing at his own attempt to appear smooth.
“It’s Friday,” Carl said, holding up a six pack of beer and a bag of takeout.
“Oh gosh, it’s Friday already?” Colt gasped, stepping back to let Carl in and heading back to the couch to grab his phone and confirm that it was, indeed, Friday evening.
It had been a few weeks since the first time Carl showed up at Colt’s door. They’d begun hanging out frequently on the weekends, starting with just getting a beer at a local dive bar before they eventually just started hanging out at Colt’s place. Colt had twisted his ankle on set (”Again?!”), so Carl decided to just grab them some drinks and show up at Colt’s house instead.
“Go ahead and sit, I’ll get us some plates and stuff,” Colt said, waving his hand toward the living room before turning to walk into the kitchen.
He was trying to hide it, but Carl could see the slight limp in his step that showed up whenever his back was bothering him.
“You working on the screenplay?” Carl asked from the living room, setting the takeout on the coffee table that was littered with papers.
“Trying to. Who know it was so hard to write a movie script?” Colt said, sighing and tilting his head- a mannerism he shared with his brother.
After Carl left his house the night they met, Colt started looking through his brother’s phone. There was hundreds of photos and videos from around the hanger (”Stratt’s Vat,” as Colt had been informed). As much as it killed him, it was good to see his brother laughing and having fun with people. It had always been harder for him to make friends, so Colt supposed he should find a morbid sort of peace in knowing how loved he was in the last years of his life on Earth.
Years they could have spent together, if only Colt wasn’t such an ass.
There was also plenty of information on that phone that Colt absolutely should not have.
He could only assume Carl knew, and passed that information intentionally. He never brought it up to Carl, and Carl never mentioned it. There was a silent understanding there- one that was confirmed when Colt told Carl he decided to create a movie based on the Hail Mary Project. Carl had to know Colt’s opinion about the Project and Stratt, and that he gave Colt classified information about the Project- yet when Colt told him about starting a script, Carl gave him a knowing smile of approval. He knew perfectly well what Colt intended to do.
Jody was against it, at first. He didn’t tell her anything about the classified information or even hint that he knew things he shouldn’t. She had seen the way he fell apart after his brother left on the Hail Mary (she didn’t know he was forced yet). She saw his fixation become worse and worse, until she came to visit and he told her he was going to make a movie based on the project after meeting someone who worked with his brother.
As it turns out, writing a movie about his brother was exactly what Colt needed. He’d come back to life (…mostly). He had somewhere to channel all his complicated feelings toward his brother, and all that reading and obsessing wasn’t just sitting stagnant and rotting in his brain. He was actually doing something with it.
She supposed she had to thank this mysterious new friend of his.
Colt had been reluctant to tell Jody about Carl at first- not really sure how much information was too much information. He felt like he owed her some explanation, though, so he just said Carl was an old coworker of Ryland’s. He sought Colt out to have someone to share his grief with, and now they get drinks on Friday nights.
Well… now they drink beer and eat takeout at Colt’s apartment so Carl could keep him company and help him with the script writing. Colt liked to think they’d become pretty good friends as of late, honestly. It was comfortable with Carl, and he could tell despite his aloof exterior, he was a pretty caring guy.
“So, are you gonna tell me what happened to your lip?” Carl asked once Colt re-entered the living room with plates and forks for each of them.
Colt winced, flinching as he was called out. “Oh, y’know, I just tripped. No big deal,” he said, waving his hand in the same way Carl had seen Grace do so many times.
Carl raised his eyebrow and leaned back, crossing his arms on his knees. “No big deal, huh?”
“Not at all,” Colt said, flashing a lopsided grin at Carl.
“Is that why you’re limping, too? No big deal?”
Colt groaned, his shoulders sagging. “Nothing gets passed you, does it?” he said, letting out a huff before shuffling over to the couch- letting his limp show more prominently- and plopping down next to Carl.
“Of course not. Wouldn’t be very good at my job if I let little details like that pass me by,” Carl said with a good natured chuckle, leaning forward to dish out their food so Colt could rest his back.
“Yeah, yeah. Mr. Hot Shot over here,” Colt said, leaning back against the arm of the couch and stretching out his leg to nudge Carl with his foot.
Carl grabbed the couch pillow next to him and threw it at Colt, nailing him right in the face.
“Oompf!” Colt grunted, catching the pillow after it made impact. “Thanks, you know me so well,” he said playfully, sitting up so he could prop the pillow behind his back for some extra support.
“Yeah well, someone’s gotta make sure you take care of yourself, right?” Carl said, holding out a plate of food to Colt.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes and chuckling as he took the plate from his companion.
“So, you tripped?” Carl asked, looking over at him from the corner of his eye, one eyebrow raised.
Colt groaned loudly and debated the merits of jumping out his own window. It wouldn’t be hard from this height- after everything that went down surrounding his accident he wasn’t taking any chances when it came to having escape routes.
There wasn’t, however, any chance Colt could outrun an active security guard, that often protects important people.
Like, government people.
More than once Colt thought Carl shouldn’t be telling him something, but it also seemed like Carl was in desperate need of a confidante. And, well, Carl talked about Grace. Of course Colt was happy to have him around.
Besides, it’s not like Colt was gonna go blab to anyone about Carl smack talking various government officials. He was more than happy to hear it. Colt didn’t exactly have a high opinion of the kind of people that would send his brother to his death, after all.
Well, except Carl. He’d mostly forgiven Carl, partly because he found his own ways to bring his brother back to life- even if just for a moment. And while Colt would never admit it, Carl had pulled him back from the brink he was staring down at the loss of his brother.
Colt knew Carl was still waiting for an answer, so he shoved a forkful of food into his mouth to stall. Unfortunately for him, Carl was a very patient man. Colt wasn’t sure he’d still be around otherwise. He’d been there through Colt’s most catatonic moments, he could certainly wait long enough for Colt to finish chewing.
“I had to do a stunt jumping from one floor to another, but I overshot it.. and faceplanted into the wall,” Colt admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
Carl let out a weary sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What the hell am I gonna do with you?” he grumbled- though there wasn’t any real annoyance behind is tone.
One would expect Colt to have much better bodily control than famously-clumsy Ryland Grace, but that wasn’t necessarily true. Colt was just as clumsy as Grace, he was just better at falling.
Grace also happened to have a much safer profession.
“Oh you know you love me, you big softy,” Colt said playfully, flashing Carl a wide, lopsided grin.
“What makes you so sure about that?” Carl replied, quirking an eyebrow at Colt.
“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t,” Colt snarked, nudging Carl with his foot again.
“Yeah, yeah. Shut up and eat,” the other man huffed, rolling his eyes as he popped a bite of food into his mouth.
Colt couldn’t help but notice the amused glint in his companion’s eyes. He grinned wider, but let them fall into a comfortable silence as they ate.