Chapter Text
Dylan smiled against the wind as it whipped freely through his hair, the sun drenching his mind with gold behind his closed eyelids. A shadow passed, and another, and another, and he opened his eyes. He was falling, or rather, he was drifting between one river of gravity to another. By now he knew the way to his intended destination without even having to look. He could have just traveled through one of the Doors scattered amongst the Patterned islands that he now called home, but he preferred taking the 'scenic route', as Zoe calls it.
He landed softly at the top of the Oldest House, with only one thing on his mind: donuts. Zoe had promised to broaden his culinary horizons beyond the plain bran muffins and saltines that he was given while contained within the Oldest House. A few weeks ago she got him the first hotdog he's had in decades, and today she has somehow managed to scrounge up a bag of powdered donuts. He can just barely imagine what they must taste like, it's been so long since he's had anything that wasn't found in an FBC ration kit.
He made his way down to the bottom floor of the Oldest House, and was greeted by a few rangers. He gave them a stilted, shy hello in return before all but dashing out of the building. It still felt so strange to him, almost wrong, that the majority of people's reactions to him have changed from outright hatred, to minor disdain, to… acceptance? Approval, even? He wasn't quite sure what to make of it just yet. He didn't want to let himself get used to this treatment, so he was bracing for what he felt was the inevitable, they would eventually remember that they do in fact despise his very existence. The new attention he has been receiving, regardless whether it was positive or negative, was just too much for him to handle at times.
He leapt his way across the rooftops toward the Watchtower, both to avoid any unwanted attention, but most importantly he wanted to go check in on one of his favorite finds in the area. He takes this route frequently when he visits Zoe at the Watchtower, and he's recently come across a wonderful discovery. Nestled under an HVAC unit on the roof of an apartment building just south of the Watchtower was a tiny bird's nest cradling three delicately speckled stone grey eggs.
When he first found the nest he thought it might have been abandoned, or that the bird that originally inhabited it might have been Patterned into oblivion out there somewhere. So, he sat as still as he possibly could, he had learned very early on how to be extraordinarily still during his time in the Prime Candidate Program, and he waited for almost an hour before seeing the adult pigeon arrive. He wasn't sure if it was male or female, he hadn't seen a bird in decades, but it was all the same to him, and it was all the same to the bird. He would sit there just watching the bird and its nest, for almost an hour at a time some days, when his workload would allow it. He even was lucky enough to catch the tail end of one of the eggs hatching last week before he was whisked away via radio onto another mission to eradicate a newly discovered Hiss hive in Central.
This time he brought his sketchbook, hoping to catch a glimpse of a few of the fledglings before their parent returned with a meal. He cautiously made his way up to his little perch and set his supplies out while searching for his favorite little friends.
"Oh, wow," He whispered when he finally spied a little feathery head peeking over the top of the nest, "you've all gotten so big."
He sketched a few quick drawings of multiple different angles of the birds, one where one of the fledglings were ruffling their feathers, one fledgling that was sleeping, and another that was attempting to stretch its wings, maybe even for the very first time. He was entranced, taking in every flutter of movement and every tiny peep. He was in the middle of drawing the nest as a whole when he saw the adult bird flutter onto the roof nearby, carrying a wriggling worm in its beak.
Everything about this moment was perfect, almost achingly so. The sun was shining softly, spreading warmth across his scalp and the back of his neck, a breeze played lightly across his cheeks, bringing along with it the smells of drying flowers and stale motor oil, and the birds were ruffling their wings. The adult pigeon had the most beautiful feathers that shimmered iridescent with vibrant purples and greens when the sun hit them at the right angle. He decided to try his luck and see if he could get a bit closer to get a better look at the birds when-
"So whatcha doing down there?" Zoe's voice crackled loudly through his radio, and Dylan jumped a little. The birds scattered, cooing together in a beautiful symphony of surprise.
"Aw man…" Dylan exhaled in disappointment, the moment was over. He sighed and pressed the button on his radio to reply. "Well, nothing now."
"Good. You were supposed to get your ass up on over here over thirty minutes ago- these donuts are getting more stale by the second."
Dylan huffed at that ridiculous idea, "I'm not sure that's even possible, Zoe."
He could hear her bark out a laugh in response, "Ha. Yeah, that's true. These things might as well be made of concrete at this point."
He sighed and gathered his drawing supplies. Another time, then. He headed toward the base of the Watchtower, where he met an uncharacteristically impatient and antsy Zoe, waving around a brown paper bag as though it would somehow summon him faster.
"Well?" She asked, one eyebrow raised, clearly referencing something beyond Dylan's awareness, as though it should be obvious.
"Well what?" He raises his eyebrows in an attempt to mirror Zoe's expression.
"Are you gonna tell me what has you so captivated out there?"
"Wha- wait, are you spying on me?" He scoffed, his hackles reflexively raised in defense. He trusted Zoe implicitly, but this is the exact kind of attention that overwhelmed his nerves. He couldn't help but feel as though he were being poked and prodded under a microscope again.
"No- well…" Zoe huffed under her breath, "I mean… I guess, if you wanna to get technical about it."
She crossed her arms and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, "I just- I worry. I know you come that way every time you visit, and just wanted to make sure the coast was clear. I saw you stop on that roof there for awhile and, well…"
Dylan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, brushing over the scar from where his discarded MCD once rested, the freshly healed skin was sensitive under his fingers. He was admittedly relieved, even though he knew deep down that he had nothing to worry about, not really.
"You don't need to monitor me anymore, Zoe. I'm fine. I'm a grown man. And I've already made sure that the downtown area was completely cleared over a month ago."
Zoe crossed her arms and scowled, "Yeah. You are. But you're a man who can almost punch through walls and can basically fly up to the top of a building in only a few seconds. And you're a man who, until very recently, had a complicated relationship with caring about whether or not he existed…" Zoe trailed off, sighing heavily, clearly trying to maintain the calm and unbothered façade, but ultimately failing, worry written all over her face.
She turned away and didn't meet his eyes, "I may not be your handler anymore, Dylan, but I'm still your friend. I'm allowed to care about your safety." She sighed, and looked back at him, shaking the worried expression away, replacing it with a bit of a smirk. "And besides, I'm a naturally curious person."
He looked at her, and after a moment he cautiously held out his sketchbook to her. "Here."
Zoe grabbed it and her eyes widened in surprise. "Wow, Dylan, you're a real artist. Not that I had doubted your skills or anything, but damn, you're actually really good."
He watched as she flipped through a few pages and looked at some of his sketches, including a really detailed one of Alfred that was a request from Langston. There were a few figure studies, one of Dr. Flores, one depicting some rangers having coffee in the Field Office cafeteria, and one of Jesse, taken from her official Director's portrait. She flipped the page again and immediately froze when she saw a page filled with sketches of… her. All facing from behind or from the side, but they were unmistakably of her.
Dylan felt his stomach flip and reached out to take back his sketchbook, "Oh- sorry, that one is… I should have asked. Sorry, Zoe."
She swatted his hand away, and just stared at the drawings of her, turning away from him.
Dylan's face heated up, and he felt a wave of guilt and shame wash over him, like he was caught doing something he should've known better not to. He knew how he felt when people watched him without permission, and he must seem like a huge hypocrite given that he just got defensive about Zoe watching him as well.
She eventually turned back around to face him, but didn't quite meet his eyes, and he thought he saw a hint of red on her ears. She glanced up at him, handing him the sketchbook. "You know… you could draw me for real, if you wanted."
He sighed with great relief, he was so worried that he had offended her or embarrassed her. "Wha- really? You'd let me?"
She laughed, and raised her eyebrow with a smirk. "You know people would pay to have an artist draw them, right?"
She reached into the brown paper bag she had with her and handed him a donut. "Here, your payment."
He looked between Zoe and the donut and smiled, taking the donut in his hand, although he barely cared about it now. His very first commission. His heart warmed at the thought. He's never had the chance to draw someone unless they didn't know he was looking. He was still apprehensive about approaching others with personal requests, especially people who don't consider themselves to be his friend, which are already of short supply anyway. He couldn't let this opportunity go to waste, and he was hoping to hang out with Zoe today anyway.
Zoe turned and motioned for him to follow, "Come on, I know a place. I mean, if you want to do it now."
Dylan nodded enthusiastically, excited to get started. "I do. Absolutely. It won't take long, don't worry."
Zoe laughed and stepped into the elevator, holding the door for him to join her. Dylan followed Zoe up higher into the Watchtower than he'd ever been before, passing by more incomplete workspaces and whole floors that were solely being used for storage. They stopped in front of a room that was unassuming from the outside, but the second he caught a glimpse of the interior, it was unmistakably… Zoe. There were over a dozen CDs stacked up haphazardly on a desk next to a whiteboard that was absolutely plastered with sticky notes, seemingly randomly placed and with zero regard for any recognizable organizational structure. There were piles of clothes thrown over the back of the desk chair, and a pair of chunky binoculars rested on a cardboard box of FBC rations that was clearly being used as a makeshift side table next to the small cot that sat unmade in the corner of the room. Dylan paused in the doorway, feeling like he was about to trespass somewhere he wasn't sure he was worthy enough to be welcomed.
"Is this… your room?" He felt like he should be looking at the floor to give her as much privacy as possible, despite having seen basically all there was to see in the tiny room. He was incredibly curious, though. He felt as though he could almost feel Zoe emanating from the walls themselves in here.
"Yeah, as close as it could come in this situation." She laughed, looking over at him with a raised eyebrow. "Dude, just come in, I'm not going to eat you."
Dylan stepped into the room cautiously, as though walking too loudly or taking up too much space would break the silent agreement that allowed him to invade her personal space.
Zoe took off her duster and laid it on top of the pile of other clothes.
"So? Where would you like me?" She gestured around the room and started posing dramatically.
Dylan laughed a little and looked around the room, trying to remember any famous portraits from when he had an art class in elementary school. All of the ones he could remember depicted people who were stiff and seemingly void of personality and life, which was the exact opposite of Zoe. Still, he wasn't yet quite confident in his ability to render a human figure in motion, and didn't think he could really do Zoe justice if he tried something more advanced just yet. He eventually decided to do something more simple and relaxed, so he decided on the corner of the room across from the cot, near a hole in the exterior wall, as it had the most natural light and he would be able to practice doing more shading. If he couldn't make it interesting with a dynamic pose, he would make it interesting by using more dramatic shadows.
He pointed, saying, "There would work, but do you have a chair? I'll try to not take up all of your break time, but it would probably be more comfortable if you could sit."
Zoe immediately dumped all of the clothes off of her desk chair unceremoniously onto the cot, dragged the chair over to where Dylan had directed her to sit, and plopped herself down onto it. Dylan started to sit down on the floor across from her and Zoe cleared her throat.
"You can sit on the bed, Dylan, you don't have to sit on the floor."
He felt his face get a little hot, and nodded carefully, "Okay." He swallowed, his mouth suddenly going dry.
Zoe was sitting up as straight as she could, but looked incredibly stiff and slightly uncomfortable.
"Is this okay?"
Dylan squinted, "Hmmmmm… how about you sit a little sideways in the chair?"
She shifted in her seat, crossing one leg over the other, and looked back over at him.
"Like this?"
Dylan tilted his head, "Hm… Almost…"
He walked over to her and carefully rotated the chair with her on it, making her yelp, and he stopped, giving her an apologetic look. He carefully held out his hand towards her.
"Sorry. Um… may I?"
Her eyebrows raised, eyeing him. "Sure," She breathed out after a moment, seeming a bit skeptical.
He put his hand under one of her arms and gingerly lifted it to rest on the back of the chair. Then he lightly grabbed her other hand and gently rested it on her other arm, crossing her arm lightly over her chest. He then lifted his hand to her face and he saw her shoulders tense up a bit.
He looked her directly in the eyes, "I'll be careful, I promise." he said, barely above a whisper, as if attempting to coax a wild pigeon to eat from his hand. He's almost afraid she'll get skittish and fly away.
She nodded slightly after a moment, and he carefully tilted her head to rest on her arm, and some of her hair fell into her eyes.
"Oh- here, sorry."
He moved the strand of hair from her eye and tucked it behind her ear, and noticed a hint of red on her cheeks. He worriedly checked her over, she looked pretty tense.
"Are you okay? Are you cold? We can do this another day if you want."
The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable.
She cleared her throat slightly, and replied more loudly than he was expecting. "No, we're good. You can start whenever you're ready. I have a whole half hour of break time saved up, so…"
Satisfied with her reply, Dylan stepped back and squinted his eyes to check the composition, and after a moment he nodded in approval.
"Okay, I'm ready."
He sat down carefully on the corner of the bed so as not to disturb the tangled pile of clothing and sheets. He pulled out his sketchbook and flipped to a new page all the way at the back, wanting to give this piece a place of its own away from the others, it felt… special, more official, somehow. After taking a couple of visual measurements, he began drawing, looking up every so often to get a better view of his reference. After about ten minutes or so he had the overall form and basic shadows of the figure down, and then he started on her face. He squinted to get a better look, thinking that he needed to get his eyes checked soon, he might need to start wearing glasses.
He stood up carefully, and Zoe started to shift, "Oh- you're finished?"
Dylan held his hand up to stop her from moving, and she froze. "No- Sorry, I just wanted to get a little closer so I can get better details."
He walked closer and stood about two feet away from her, taking in the details of her face. He was halfway through drawing the lines of her mouth when he noticed her forehead was scrunched, creasing into a line between her eyebrows.
"Are you uncomfortable sitting like that? Sorry, I'm almost done, this will probably only take about five more minutes."
She nodded slightly and relaxed her shoulders and forehead, but didn't meet his eyes.
He leaned in a bit, taking in the curves of her ears, and the hint of a few freckles across the bridge of her nose. He started on the shape of her eyes and she glanced up at him, but immediately blinked and looked away.
"Wait- come back. I wanted to get your eyes next."
She huffed out something that sounded halfway between a sigh and a cough, and slowly moved her eyes up to meet his. He held his breath as he started to draw the depth of shadow in her irises.
"Hey, I never noticed before, but… you have a tiny freckle in your right eye…" he breathed softly as he was drawing the final details.
Her eyes widened and her face was almost entirely red now, she abruptly sat up and turned her head to face away from him.
"I- sorry. Can we be done? For now. I just remembered… something. It's pretty urgent Watchtower duties."
Dylan nodded, completely understanding. "Of course. Do you need any help?"
Zoe laughed awkwardly and stood up from her chair, shaking her head a bit before snatching her jacket off of the bed behind Dylan.
"No- No it's fine, Dylan, thank you."
She grabbed the brown bag of donuts off of the desk and practically shoved it into his arms, looking anywhere but at him.
"Here, the rest of your payment."
Dylan grasped his sketchbook and the bag of donuts while getting essentially corralled out of the room.
"Zoe, wait- Before I go..."
He stopped at the doorway, carefully ripped the page out of his sketchbook and gave it to her.
"Here, It's basically done. I hope you like it."
Zoe all but snatched the drawing from his hand and basically shooed him away.
"Thanks, Dylan. I appreciate it," She sighed. She glanced at him, giving him a tight but apologetic smile. "Sorry… I'll call you later."
He gave her a smile and a little half wave, "See you, Zoe."
She waved back, almost as a dismissal, and hurriedly turned to face her desk. He wasn't completely fluent in body language just yet, but even he could tell that she would probably want some space to complete her work. Dylan hoped they weren't working her too hard, it seemed like it was beginning to stress her out. He might have to speak to Pope about giving him some more responsibilities if it meant it would reduce some of her workload.
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