By the time the pelican carrying Wash and Carolina got to the Staff of Charon, the fighting was over. The battle had been won. They picked their way through the corpses strewn throughout the ship to find the Reds and Blues cheering, battered and bloody but celebrating their victory. All but one, that is. Tucker was wearing Maine's armor -- Wash did a double take, but supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Charon somehow had it. The past always seemed to come back to haunt them except in this case it had been a good thing. It had saved them. Except Tucker wasn't cheering.
Turns out, as fast as they could wasn't fast enough.
Maybe if he and Carolina had been up there, they could have saved Epsilon. That was all Wash could think about on the ride back down to Chorus, watching Tucker with his head in his hands. The defeated hunch of Carolina's shoulders. It was all he thought about as they weaved their way through the joyful armies to get back to their barracks. He hesitated as everyone split off but ultimately went to follow Tucker, opened the door to his room to see him throw Maine's helmet against the wall and crumple to his bunk.
Wash stood in the doorway for a long moment before stepping inside and closing the door behind him, crossing to pick up the helmet and look at it. He'd never expected to see it again, and like this... he was having a lot of feelings, none of them ones he wanted to entertain at the moment.
"I'm surprised it fit you," he finally comments, setting the helmet down on Tucker's dresser reverently. "Maine was a big guy."
for vee;
By the time the pelican carrying Wash and Carolina got to the Staff of Charon, the fighting was over. The battle had been won. They picked their way through the corpses strewn throughout the ship to find the Reds and Blues cheering, battered and bloody but celebrating their victory. All but one, that is. Tucker was wearing Maine's armor -- Wash did a double take, but supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Charon somehow had it. The past always seemed to come back to haunt them except in this case it had been a good thing. It had saved them. Except Tucker wasn't cheering.
Turns out, as fast as they could wasn't fast enough.
Maybe if he and Carolina had been up there, they could have saved Epsilon. That was all Wash could think about on the ride back down to Chorus, watching Tucker with his head in his hands. The defeated hunch of Carolina's shoulders. It was all he thought about as they weaved their way through the joyful armies to get back to their barracks. He hesitated as everyone split off but ultimately went to follow Tucker, opened the door to his room to see him throw Maine's helmet against the wall and crumple to his bunk.
Wash stood in the doorway for a long moment before stepping inside and closing the door behind him, crossing to pick up the helmet and look at it. He'd never expected to see it again, and like this... he was having a lot of feelings, none of them ones he wanted to entertain at the moment.
"I'm surprised it fit you," he finally comments, setting the helmet down on Tucker's dresser reverently. "Maine was a big guy."