Chapter Text
It was frayed beyond black, the gray thread coming undone at the ends. Builderman huffed, looping the ends through again, pulling it into a knot. His hair tie was falling apart; there was no denying that.
Taph finished pulling their tripwire past the door and turned to him, waiting. They watched him fumble with the fabric a bit more before flitting nervously, tapping a hand against the wall, signaling for his attention.
A dispenser would be good here.
Builderman winced, bunching his hair up in one hand and pulling it through the messily tied loop as quickly as he could, letting the layers spill over his shoulder neatly.
Taph’s shoulders relaxed as he walked over, pulling his hammer from his belt.
Last time he tried to build a dispenser with his hair down, he felt half his scalp rip when he stood up, strands of his hair still caught between the metal plates as it whirred.
He started at the base, hitting the nails hard enough to embed them deep, his shoulder shook, pieces of his hair coming loose from the band. It was not ideal at all.
Taph flitted around behind him, connecting his wires to the trip mine, preparing to put it down after he finished.
He had been hammering for a few seconds before he noticed red in the corner of his eyes. He called out, still whispering.
“C’mere, I’m almost done.”
Elliot limped in, pressing tightly against the wall. Builderman grasped at the screws tighter, trying to finish as fast as he could. He looked up, smiling at Elliot but still stiff, reassuring him.
“Take your time,” Elliot mumbled before leaning over and promptly coughing blood. Builderman admired his selflessness, but it definitely got to a point.
He finished the dispenser, still crouched, hair in his face. Elliot leaned against it, breathing heavily. Waiting a few seconds before speaking.
“It’s not going well.” He groaned, his visor tipping over. Builder reached out his hand, pulling the visor off entirely, letting the cool air hit the other’s head.
“It’s alright, you’re doing well.” He brought his hand down over his shoulder, helping steady him as the machinery seeped into his injuries. Elliot hummed, relaxing before looking up.
“I need to get back over there.”
Taph shook his head, I’ll go
Builderman brought his other hand up, gripping Taph’s shoulder as well, pushing him closer to Elliot next to the dispenser.
“Neither one of you can even walk in a straight line right now.” Taph’s robes ruffled as he brought his hand up to protest. Elliot hadn’t even registered his words yet.
He raised his eyebrows. His eyes were stern, but his lips curved upwards slightly, watching the two of them look sheepish.
“I’m serious, a sentry will do.” He guided both of them against the wall, a bit away from the tripwire.
“Stay here, I’ll be back.”
Elliot groaned, slumping down the wall further; he looked up blearily. He clawed at the back of his head, pulling his hair loose. While it was a lot shorter, he still kept it up for comfort.
He tried to hand it to Builderman
“For when you build it,” he blinked harder. “So you don’t lose more hair.” His voice slurred slightly, his bones shifting within his body as he healed, clouding his mind slightly.
Builderman pushed Elliot’s hand back down, pointing to the torn piece of fabric in his hair. His ponytail had come loose, half of his hair now casting a shadow across his face. It wasn’t perfect, but it still worked.
“I won’t”
Taph chose that moment to wrap his gloved fingers around a strand of gray hair caught in the dispenser’s fan, ripping it free.
Builderman stared at it for a few seconds before self-consciously reaching his hand up to the back of his head.
“It’ll be fine.” His voice trailed off, doubtful.
Taph’s cloak shook with silent giggles, also slightly delirious from the machete to his back from earlier. He dropped the strand before signing again
BALDerman
Builderman frowned at that, staring at the two of them in dismay. Elliot dropped the hair tie, giggling to himself. Taph hugged his knees, pushing his face into them, trying not to laugh in Builderman’s face.
It was moments like this he wished his dispenser healed instantly instead of the slow influx of simulated high-dosage medication.
“Right.” He turned around, stepping over the tripwire, towards the entrance, his mouth still downturned in slight fear. He didn’t want to be bald.
–
He was still trying to shake the idea out of his head as he trekked through the grass, past the pit of poison. He crouched behind a wall watching the clearing ahead of him.
It would be a good spot, a fair distance from his healing, in an open enough space to maximize his range.
“Good spot?”
He hissed at the sudden weight on his shoulder. His head whipped up involuntarily, more sections of his hair pulled free from the band with the movement, practically covering his face.
He relaxed instantly, recognizing the blur of white and untied drawstrings.
“Good distance and maximum range?”
Shedletsky grinned at him, peeling his hand off his shoulder to adjust the grip on his sword, freshly coated red.
“That’s what you were thinking, right?”
Builderman rolled his eyes, the crease between his eyebrows fading. It was good to run into the other; he had been worried about building out in the open.
He tilted his head to the side, returning the smile.
“Since you know me so well.” Builderman paused, voice light and teasing. He clicked his tongue before standing up and turning around to stare at the other head on.
“Y'know what I need you to do?”
Shedletsky huffed dramatically, shaking his head. “Of course.”
He followed Builderman, sword raised, as the other man stepped forward, looking both ways before walking faster towards the clearing.
The bottom of his boots squelched in the mud, cargos dragging in the dirt. Shedletsky tilted his head following Builder’s stance, which was wary but sure. His hair covered his eyes, but he could make out the steadfast look, locked in on the ground.
He dropped to his knees before squinting up at Shedletsky.
“Keep your eyes peeled, this guy comes outta nowhere.”
Shedletsky shrugged, “That’s just a skill issue on your part.”
Builderman ignored him, planting a metal plate against the dirt. Shedletsky frowned, leaning over him. His hair kept brushing against the bolts, catching in the slit.
“Dude, you need to tie your wig up better.”
Builderman paused, turning to him slowly, eyes narrowed. “This is not a wig”
Shedletsky blinked before pushing further, widening his grin.
“You sure?”
“I’m not baldin'.” Builderman shrieked, fairly uncharacteristically. Shedletsky just rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at him in slight confusion.
Builderman huffed, turning back to his sentry.
Shedletsky fell silent for a bit before reaching forward. He slipped his palm under Builderman’s scalp, gathering the weight of his hair in his palm; he used his pointer finger to brush the fringe out of his eyes as well.
He held it up as Builderman hammered, making sure the pieces behind his ears didn’t fall forward either.
He turned around, surveying the area still. It had been quiet for a while now. It was strange the sentry hadn’t drawn anyone else in.
He wasn’t sure who was left. He could make out the slight purplish glow of Taph’s tripmine in the distance. That was reassuring.
Builderman shifted in his hand; he looked down to see the other finished with the contraption. He was breathing heavily, chest falling up and down fast.
‘Thanks, ' he coughed out, leaning against Shedletsky’s hand for support. Shedletsky gripped his head tighter, stabilizing his neck. Builderman didn't move for a few seconds, soaking in the warmth of the other's hands. He hadn't noticed it as much while he was working, but now it was overwhelming.
Builderman started to stand, knees wobbling from being bent so long.
Shedletsky's hand slipped slightly; he felt the piece of fabric still knotted in the Builderman's hair not exactly doing its job.
Shedeltsky paused. He let his fingerpad brush against the hair tie again; he looked closer. The fabric was knitted tightly, it was frayed, sure, but the gold thread stood out in Builderman’s graying blond.
It felt too familiar. It felt like.
The sentry whirred to life, interrupting any train of thought he had. Bullets ricocheted hard and fast. Shedletsky dropped his hand, brandishing his sword.
He kept Builderman behind him before, shoving him towards the faint trip mine in the distance.
The other wobbled, catching his balance before looking up.
“You have to find a wall.” Builderman started. Shedletsky ignored him, circling around the sentry, tracking the direction further away from Builder.
He smiled, too wide, eyes glinting.
“You’ve done your part, Builder.” He nodded towards Taph’s traps, directing Builderman away. The other sighed before complying.
“Let me do mine.”
Builderman's lips bent upwards against his will, far too amused by the other's antics.