super_cool | what's up space girl [for chiron

what's up space girl [for chiron_survivor]

After parting ways with Adia, the dazed cop headed towards the Shopping District to find a motel. Freddy remembers the walk as a series of sidewalks and brightly lit stores passing by in a blur, viewed through hazy tunnel vision. The next thing he recalls with any real clarity is wandering into the lobby of an old and slightly dilapidated building marked HOTEL with a flickering neon sign.

Since then, it’s been slightly reminiscent of when he first moved to LA-- only a lot weirder, and experienced from under the shadow of everything that went down with the heist and in the warehouse. He has no job, no friends, few acquaintances, and so most of his time is spent either alone in his hotel room or wandering the Nexus.

Today, he’s in his room. Adia’s contact information is on the coffee table, next to a bag with the laundered clothes that he still plans on returning to her. He keeps meaning to send her a text message, since that seems to be the preferred mode of communication, and today he actually does:

yo, adia. it’s freddy. what’s up? i have your clothes ready. text me next time you’re in the nexus, and we can meet up.

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It's for the best that he doesn't try to physically comfort her. He'd have a face full of angry bird otherwise. As it is, Bucky ignores him completely in favor of chirping softly into Adia's ear and wrapping a feathery wing around her shoulders. There, there.

Thankfully, the crying jag lasts only a few seconds. "S-sorry," she stutters, furiously rubbing at her eyes. Dammit, she thought she had already gotten out all her tears. "You d-didn't know."

She should have told him that she was busy. She's not fit for company like this. She's getting ready to excuse herself when Freddy offers to listen to her troubles. Lowering her hands, she looks at him, still blinking away tears.

Well, what does she have to lose, really? The least she can do is explain why she's so upset.

"It was, um... there was no thirteenth tribe. Not anymore. They had built Cylons -- sentient robots -- of their own, and it led to a nuclear war. Nothing survived." She drops her gaze. "It happened over two thousand years ago. There was never a chance of meeting them and getting their help..."

“I’m really sorry,” he says, eyes downcast. She’s not crying anymore, but she’s still a lady who is very upset, and stuck in a serious situation. When she’d first told him about the robots, he’d been unable to fully process what it was she was saying. His mind had automatically gone to corny, stupid stuff.

He’s worked on that since then.

“When did this happen?” he asks, and then clarifies: “I mean, when was it that you guys found Earth?”

He doesn’t add that it’s not surprising that they found it a fucked up shithole, given what he knows about his Earth and its likely trajectory over the next couple hundred years. That wouldn't be very comforting.

To be fair, Adia had seriously downplayed the severity of her situation, buoyed by the prospect of finding Earth. Now she looks the very part of a war refugee, scared and devastated. There's no hope for her people now, not unless they come up with a plan B before the Cylons catch up to them.

Freddy's sympathy gets the last of her tears under control. "A couple days ago." She sniffles and wipes at her eyes again. "It's terrible. It's like everybody's given up. My friend Maggie, she won't stop crying. She never cries." She takes a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't know what we're going to do."

“Shit, that sounds pretty bad,” he murmurs quietly in response. No shit, he thinks. It definitely can't be good to find out you've been chasing a mirage for years. It’s a situation that’s way beyond him, but he feels for her. Adia’s a nice girl, she doesn’t deserve to spend her days on the run from a war that’s got nothing to do with her.

“There’s gotta’ be someone who can figure something out though, right? Maybe it’s just a matter of hanging on ‘til then?”

From anyone else, it might sound like a placating response, but Freddy's blinking at her with hopeful eyes like he genuinely believes it's a possibility. He's a follower, not a leader, and tends to look to others, even while knowing leaders aren’t always reliable or good people.

Edited 2017-08-17 21:21 (UTC)

"Yeah. Yeah, it is." Bucky warbles something to her softly and she hides her face behind his wing, suddenly embarrassed. She shouldn't be dumping all this on someone who barely knows her, especially someone who's trying to get his bearings in the Nexus. He shouldn't have to deal with her trauma on top of that.

But then she peeks at him from behind her friend's feathers. It's the sincerity in his suggestion that eases her anxiety. She's not a leader, either. "Maybe," she agrees. "Our president is, um, kind of sick, but I know Commander Adama never gives up..." She bites her lip, then asks hesitantly, "Did you ever have to do that? Wait for someone else to... to figure out a plan?"

“Kind of?” He's not sure whether she’s asking because she wonders if he can empathize or because she’s simply curious. He has no problem admitting it either way, but he also doesn’t want to say in so many words that it’s just better for everyone involved if someone else is there to take charge of things.

“I mean like with my job,” he begins, unsure if he'd mentioned to her that he was with the police, “I was always just following someone else’s orders. I don’t mean with day to day bullshit, but when stakes were high, and it actually fucking mattered. I’m not good at strategy anyway, like I’m complete fuckin’ shit at chess,” he says lightly, fidgeting with the strings from his hoodie.

“So that was always someone else’s job, while I’m better at, um... stalling and buying time when shit goes wrong or gets heated...” Which are important skills, so it's not like he was totally worthless. He wouldn't pretend to know what her situation is like, but he's reckless and has been in danger before, even aside from the one particularly violent day.

It's a little of both, considering that she has her attention on him now, rather than her own troubles. Gently, she brushes back Bucky's wing so she can watch Freddy's body language unobstructed. He's not like any police officer she's met before. They're usually more self-assured, take charge kind of folks. Some of that bravado must come from the uniform. Besides, who knows what kind of police work Freddy had to do. Maybe he was behind a desk all day, or writing speeding tickets.

But somehow she doubts that. You don't end up dead in a pool of your own blood because some jerk had a lead foot.

"Were you the good cop?" she asks with a small smile, before blushing faintly at her own question. "Um, I mean. Do they only do that in movies? The good cop, bad cop thing?" He has to be the good cop, if they do. How could he the bad cop with a face like that?

Adia’s question makes him smile, even though thinking too much about his job leaves a sour taste in his mouth. She’s also guessed correct. No one ever called in Detective Newendyke because they wanted to scare somebody into confessing.

“Nah, they don’t do that,” he says, leaning back against the bench, and taking out his cigarettes. He holds the open pack towards Adia in case she wants one, even if she’s not usually a smoker. She’s stressed, he figures. “What they do’s bad cop, worse cop.”

And after lighting a cigarette and exhaling a thin stream of smoke, he tells her, deadpan: “I was the worse cop.”

The offer of a cigarette is met with a polite shake of her head and a murmured, "No, thank you." She's never had one, and she suspects that the nicotine would only make her feel worse. The anti-smoking lobby of Leonis -- if any of them managed to survive -- should give themselves a pat on the back.

"Worse cop?" That's not the answer she's expecting, and his deadpan tone leaves her confused and a little nervous. She can't tell if he's joking or not. About himself, or the interrogation techniques of his police force.

Her gaze drops to her hands, then back up to his face. "I was interrogated once. By the Cylons." She sits up straighter, out of pride or an attempt at bravery. "There was only one cop, and she tried to be both. But I didn't tell her anything."

“Mhm,” he says, maintaining the ruse. “Worse cop.

Because see what I’d do is make these really bad jokes, and after enough of that shit, I’d have the worst crooks singing just to make it stop.” He sighs, shoulders slumping forward slightly. His opinion of the LAPD is rather low these days, and his opinion of himself even lower, but it was never his intention to actually try and frighten her.

He knows interrogation’s no joke, though. It couldn’t have been easier with some Battlestar Galactica robocop either, especially for someone like Adia. He blinks, genuinely impressed and a little concerned. “What happened? They let you go after you wouldn’t tell them nothing?”

She laughs a little in relief when she realizes that he's kidding after all, then feels bad for both doubting him and ruining his joke. She should have taken her cue from Bucky, who has decided that this guy is not a threat and is quietly preening one of his wings, the other still extended around Adia.

"Sorry, I, um. I don't know much about police work." She sees the slump in his shoulders and thinks better of asking him more questions about his former profession. Except one. "Do you think you'd like to be a cop here? There's a police force... it doesn't do much yet, but it pays a salary."

His surprise makes her smile briefly. At least until he asks her how she got out of it. "It was when we were under Occupation. My neighbor was a member of the Resistance and a suspect in a bombing. They brought me in for questioning... I didn't know anything about the bombing, but my boyfriend at the time was a member of the Resistance, and I had been keeping the Nexus a secret, too."

She shifts a little under the protective cover of Bucky's wing. "Three -- that's the model who interrogated me -- she must have sensed that I was hiding something. She pushed and pushed. Told me that withholding information was a punishable offense. I was so scared. I thought I was going to crack... then, um. Then a Five came in and got her to leave. He dismissed me from questioning."

So maybe there was a good cop in this scenario after all. Her voice has gone rather soft at the end.

Bucky’s judgement is good. Freddy’s more messed up and intense than his personable demeanor suggests, but it’s not a mask either. He’d been the good cop to suspects during interrogations, and the funny guy to his colleagues because he was desperate for them to like him. Would he ever want to be a cop again here? Probably not, but it’s also not like he knows much else.

“Aren’t there no laws here?” Cops without laws don’t make any sense to him.

Maybe it’s like cops will be cops no matter where, though. Take Adia’s story, for instance. Totally different universe, thousands of years in the future, everyone’s flying around in space, and the sentient robot cops still sound exactly the same as the cops in the LAPD.

“She could probably tell you were nervous,” he suggests. Something tells him Adia’s poker face isn’t all that great. “Cops think that anyone who shows anxiety’s got something to hide. But I bet they didn’t have shit on you, so as long as you didn’t crack, they had to let you go.” The last part’s just a guess. He has no way of knowing what happened to make the other guy, the Five, call her off since cops normally like to think they’re finally getting somewhere when a suspect starts acting like they're really scared.

"They're aren't," she confirms. "It's Felix's pet project more than anything, but..." Freddy seemed so lost when she first met him. Even now, she can tell that he's still struggling to find his place. Maybe he was always like that, or maybe it's the shock of the Nexus, but either way, a job would give him some stability.

"I know Sheriff Rosco has plans, and he's a good cop. Honest. His deputies helped a lot of people during the Khan invasion. You could do some good here, even if it's not like being a cop back home."

She nods a little at Freddy's assessment of her interrogation. She knows better than anyone how weak her poker face is. (Or triad face, in her case, the colonial equivalent of poker.) But when he suggests that they let her go on lack of evidence, she shakes her head. "She would have tried to lock me up anyway. The Cylons had that kind of authority over us." No, she knows very well why Five let her go.

Part of the reason, anyway. Looking up at Freddy, she feels bad for not telling him the whole story. "There was a Five on my ship... a sleeper agent named Caspar. We were... close. Best friends." Maybe more, by the soft look in her eyes. "It was the same five who let me go. Even though he didn't acknowledge it."

He appreciates what she's trying to do here, but going from a detective in LAPD’s organized crime division to helping some guy play cops in a city without laws doesn’t sound too appealing. Maybe if it’s what Captain America does when he’s in the Nexus?

“Felix calls cops ‘guardsmen,’” he laughs, and takes another pull of smoke. “I’ve met him before. He seemed like a nice kid. Asked me what death’s like, but was pretty polite about it. I bought him a beer, and he gave me money, which he really didn’t have to do. That was at, um, that store that had the tiny pies.

“He made me nervous as hell at first, though. Is he always so, you know”--he waves his hand around, searching for the appropriate word--“intense?”

Adia’s volunteered a lot of history to someone she’s met twice who’s not said a word about his personal life. But that's the sort of thing you do when you're a good person, with a clean conscience and nothing to hide. Thank God for cigarettes in times like these. He’s smoking in silence, hair flopped over his eyes.

“I’ve lied to a friend before,” he says softly. “About my identity. It wasn’t for very long, but still.”

It's not quite the same as being a sleeper agent living among the people you’re at war with, right, but she might like to know about it anyway.

He's not enthused by the idea, she can tell. She's about to apologize for suggesting it, but then Freddy talks about his recent encounter with Felix, and she blinks at him incredulously. "Intense?" That doesn't sound like the Felix she knows. Nor does Felix make people nervous. Usually he goes out of his way to put others at ease, even if it involves lying right to their face...

She winces, remembering a recent conversation that she had with Jim Kirk. Dammit. She was so wrapped up in her own troubles that she had completely forgotten... "He, um... he might not have been feeling like himself. Freddy? If you do see him again, can you do me a favor and let me know? He's missing currently, and his boyfriend is very worried."

See? It is possible for Adia to be discreet, at least when it comes to a friend. And she does consider Felix a friend, even if she trusts him about as far as she can throw him.

Okay, maybe suggesting that Freddy join his police force was a bad idea. Good thing he isn't into it.

But she still worries. Especially with his soft-spoken confession. "That must have been hard," she says kindly. "For both of you. I, um... I really don't like lying, but I know that it's necessary sometimes. Or unavoidable... I forgave Caspar. He didn't know he was a Cylon, and when he found out..." She swallows hard and looks away. "Well, he didn't lie to me for very long, either."

“He seemed tired, and kind of agitated.” He’s thinking back more carefully now. Freddy may even have a small lead on where the fuck is Felix Caelus, although he doesn’t know it. “He ran off after confirming I’m not actually, you know, a fucking zombie, I guess?” He laughs a little dryly, because being dead, that's real funny, right. “He was kind of an asshole about it, but I don’t think it was intentional.

“He said he needed to get back to work. I asked what’s he working on, but all he said was he wants to protect the fella he loves, and be of service.

“Oh yeah, also something about how someone who’s living can go into another realm and then come back. I don’t know, I didn’t quite catch it, but figured it was something concerning where he’s from because it didn’t make any sense to me. Yeah, I'll let you know if I see him again.”

The fact that Adia’s not judging him, he attributes to her not knowing everything. “It’s not lying if he didn’t know,” he says matter-of-factly. That makes it an entirely different scenario. “It sounds like it wasn't your friend's fault, and like he didn’t really do anything wrong.”

That is in contrast with Freddy, who always knew he was lying but still got as close as possible to Larry anyway, just because he liked the guy. What a shitty thing to do.

Edited 2017-08-23 02:27 (UTC)

"His world is magical. He explained to me that there are multiple planes of existence there, that might have been what he was referring to." The rest of it doesn't sound like Felix at all. Well, except the part about wanting to protect his boyfriend. Although considering that he tried to strangle him to death in his sleep, he's doing a really lousy job of it...

Gods, Felix. What the frak is going on with you? "Thanks," she says to Freddy. She gently pushes Bucky's wing off her completely so she can dig her PINpoint out of her bag. "Sorry, but do you mind if I send his boyfriend a quick message? I don't want to forget." She hates to be the person who texts someone else while in a conversation, but she knows that once she goes back to her ship, the details of Freddy's story won't be as fresh in her mind. If she even remembers at all to text Jim. Life on her ship has gotten overwhelming.

"I'm sorry he was rude to you. Um. Like I said, he's probably not feeling like himself. Usually he's very nice. He's helped me out a few times."

If she knew the whole story, she still wouldn't judge him. It was his job, wasn't it? And she knows better than anyone that you can't help liking the people that you do. Shooting an innocent bystander, though, that'd be harder for her to swallow. But as far as she knows, Freddy's a good-hearted cop who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"What about when he pretended that he didn't know me?" She glances at Freddy briefly. "Honestly, that... that hurt worse than the other thing." Even if he also probably saved her life. Her feelings are complicated, okay? "How'd your friend take it when he found out that you lied?"

“He seemed like a nice guy overall. Just stressed and out of sorts.” He doesn’t mind Adia messaging Jim. He’s not familiar enough with smartphones to know how problematic it is when someone’s texting while you’re trying to talk, and in this case he gets that it’s important to find Felix. Their interaction had been brief, but his impression was that he’s somebody with a good heart but who’s possibly a little bit foolish.

“Maybe he had his reasons,” he says, tapping the ash from his cigarette and watching it flutter toward the ground. He doesn’t mean to stick up for Caspar, but he can’t help feeling for the guy. Learning your entire identity is a lie has to be a mindfuck, and Freddy can imagine why letting other Cylons know about his feelings for Adia might be a bad idea. “Do you think you’ll ever see him again?”

Adia may be open-minded, but he still feels there’s plenty people could judge him on whether it's falling for another man, falling for a criminal, or just failing to be professional.

“Not good,” he sighs. Freddy’s own poker face is well practiced, so while it's clear he's regretful, with his sad eyes and floppy hair in his face, there’s nothing to indicate how devastating a confession it had actually been. “I should have told him sooner.”

He can't trust himself to say more without his voice breaking though, so he decides to back up in his story and confirm that he hadn't been lying for fun. “I lied to get in with this gangster, to get information so that we could catch him red-handed at a crime scene.”

At least Adia no longer has to do the mental gymnastics of trying to picture Freddy in actual police uniform, although of course he’s worn one before. It’s just easier to understand how he might have actually been good at undercover work, if only he wasn’t simultaneously terrible at it.

With the tacit approval to go ahead, Adia pulls out her PINpoint and starts typing away at the tiny keys. She tries to be quick about it, but she's never been one for texting shorthand or emojis. Besides, is there even an emoji for someone acting stressed and out of sorts?

Freddy's willingness to defend Caspar doesn't go unnoticed. She might even look a little appreciative about it. There is no love lost between Caspar and the rest of her ship. "I know," she admits quietly. "I just wish he hadn't been such a jerk about it..."

She finishes up her text and hits enter, then swings her gaze up to Freddy's face, wide-eyed and upset. She blinks, and the look softens in its intensity. "If you had asked me that even a week ago..." She sighs. "The Cylons are going through a civil war. The rebels defected to our side. But not Caspar. I think the odds of me seeing him again are pretty slim."

Oh, so he was undercover. That explains a lot, actually. "If you had told him sooner, wouldn't that have blown the case?" Of course, ideally, he shouldn't have become friends with the guy in the first place, but that's the last thing she'll ever judge someone for. "That must have put you in a really awkward position... I'm sorry."

She's kind of curious why a hero-obsessed cop would care about a hardened criminal, but there's no polite way to ask that. Instead, she shifts a little in her seat and says, "Some of my friends here are... um, morally questionable. But I've always tried to see the good in others. We can't always help who we like."

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business. I know your world’s complicated.”

He keeps his tone level, but is pretty mortified at almost making her cry again. Even once it's clear she’s not actually on the brink of shedding more tears, he’s still choosing his words carefully and watching to make sure she’s not getting upset again.

“I just thought if it were me, I might not know how you felt, but I’d still want to know how you were doing... and to apologize, even if I didn’t actually do anything wrong. It’d probably take a while, and I’d have to figure out how to go about it, but I’d still want to...” That would be the right thing to do, and he figures that most people would feel similarly. “We don’t have to talk about him anymore, though.”

He actually winces with the mention of the case. “Yeah, of course, which is why I didn’t.” But then what went down was such a disaster, just about any other turn of events would be preferable in hindsight.

He’s bad at talking about his emotions, or else maybe he would try and explain that it’s one thing to like someone, but it’s rare that anyone genuinely gives a shit about what happens to you in return. And it’s not like everyone’s a rotten evil bastard with no sympathy, but just that everyone’s got priorities, and you’re usually not one of them. Which is fair enough, honestly. But then when you meet someone who’s not like that, and you let them down so terribly, whether they’re a hardened criminal or not, it feels really... shitty.

“I know we can’t help who we like,” he says instead. “I liked all those guys I worked with when undercover. I had nothing personal against any of them. Shit, I even liked the goddamn gangster.” He laughs, a little rueful. For someone who's basically a nice person, he sure gets along with scumbags awfully well. But then they’d been such likable scumbags.

She's quiet for a little while after he tells her they can drop the subject of her ex, even after he speaks more about his own unfortunate friendship. It's only a few seconds of silence, all told, but it feels like an ice age to her. It's her fault that this conversation has turned into an exchange of awkward apologies. She should have kept her own problems to herself.

And yet...

"When, um... when I first met you, you reminded me of him. Because of the blood. It's what he looked like, after he..." she swallows hard before continuing. "The next time I saw him was when he was escorting me out of the detention center, and you know what's funny? All those things you said, what you would say if you were him, that's what I wanted to say. To Caspar. That I didn't blame him for what happened. That I was glad that he was alive again."

She looks up at Freddy, her eyes filled with regret. "But I didn't. I asked him if he knew if Caspar had resurrected because I was too scared to say what I really wanted to. And maybe that wouldn't have made a difference for him, but at least my conscience would have been clear."

It's another moment before she asks gently, "Is that why you came clean with your friend?" She thinks that's rather brave of him, despite it being a foolish thing to do from both a professional and survivalist perspective. "It must have been such a difficult secret to keep."

It's good to know he’s not the only one who felt a connection, like maybe they’ve been through something similar, but they're also kind of just torturing themselves. Not like he does much else these days, so no surprise there. But Adia’s emotional and not herself, and he’s not helping at all.

He also doesn’t entirely understand why she’s saying all this. As someone who prefers to be one step ahead in conversations, it makes him feel backed into a corner, and unsure of what to tell her.

“Believe me, I do not have a clean conscience.” He can at least set her straight on that much. Maybe she thinks he was able to get something that she could not with Caspar, like find some sort of closure or something. But it was a selfish confession, and it only happened after a lot of bloodshed.

He could spare her as many details as possible about how a bunch of stupid men violently killed each other one afternoon after a diamond heist went wrong, but it still wouldn’t be a particularly uplifting story. “I don’t know if you really want to hear about it,” he admits. “I only mentioned it because I thought you might want to know.”

That Freddy Newendyke lied about his identity and shattered an old thief’s heart.

That cigarette he’d been smoking is still dangling between his fingers. He’d forgotten about it at some point. Now that it’s burning at the filter, he drops it and grounds it out with the heel of his shoe. He’d like to immediately light another, but resists, trying to let his mental clock countdown to when the next one is acceptable.

This topic of conversation certainly isn't doing either of them any favors. Although now that she has gotten that particular tale of woe off her chest, she seems... not as miserable. Calmer, maybe. Less weighed down.

They were words that she could never say to Caspar, but at least she was able to tell them to someone who she thinks can understand. And she'd do the same for Freddy, listen to his own regrets, but she knows that not everyone can be as open with their story as she can. So when she hears the reluctance in his voice, she smiles at him kindly and reaches out to pat his shoulder.

"I appreciate you sharing with me what you did. You can tell me as much or as little as you want, I've, um... I've seen a lot, and heard worse. But it's up to you."

He doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s not even sure how to talk about it. But he can’t not talk about it either. “He was taking care of me after I got shot,” he begins, after a long pause. “I still wasn’t going to say anything." Another pause.

"But then the fucking cops were late. So while they’re dicking around doing... whatever the fuck, fighting over the last jelly-filled donut for all I fucking know, my friend and I are bleeding all over each other.”

Yeah, he’s angry with the police for showing up late. But there are also some major gaps in his story, and focusing on being angry at them is just the easiest way to get through talking about any of it.

“By this point, the gangster’s dead. Pretty much everyone involved is dead. I’m about to die, and my friend’s still trying to comfort me-- so yeah... I told him... Of course I fucking told him.”

He’s gone still and pale and has that faraway shaken look that Adia has no doubt seen many times before on many victims of all manner of disasters-- a look that she has probably worn a few times herself. And then he quietly says what he’s been saying a lot of lately: “I’m sorry.”

She listens silently but attentively to his tale, through all its stops and starts, to the painful but inevitable conclusion. It's made more poignant by how disturbingly similar it is to her last moments with Caspar aboard her ship. He confessed the truth to her, too, when he was at the end of his tether.

At least she didn't have to hold his dying body in her arms. That would have been too much.

It's tempting to tell him that he has nothing to be sorry for, or even if he did, he's already paid his penance. But she's not sure if he'd believe her. If they were better friends, she'd offer him a hug. The most she dares is another gentle pat to his shoulder. "What happened to your friend? You said he was hurt, too?"

what's up space girl [for chiron_survivor]

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