gipsy_danger | for striker

He has to admit; that was not a question he was anticipating.

Well... I'm forty-three. And the past twenty-five years of my life have been in the military. I'm getting old, and my body can't quite handle the same stress it used to. I mean, I keep in shape, I eat as well as I can, but even so. We aren't built for this kind of thing, not for such a prolonged period of time.

Her brow is furrowed and she squeezes his hands, feeling helpless.

I don't understand. Repair yourself. It isn't difficult.

He chuckles, feeling very fond of her. Squeezing her hands, he shrugs a little.

It's not quite that easy. We don't have mechanics who can fix us so quickly. Sure, if I broke my arm, a doctor would set it so everything is straight again, but he can't just go in and solder the bone back together. It has to heal naturally, and that takes time. As you get older, it takes longer and longer to heal. Your joints stop being as flexible. Your body gets more sensitive to little things that didn't bother you when you were younger.

It's a natural part of aging, love, there's nothing I can do about it.

She untangles a hand to reach up and touch his face.

This is a concept I am unfamiliar it. May I look deeper?

Of course.

He brings up all the times he can remember being in hospital; from when he was a little kid and fell and broke his arm, to the times he's been injured in combat before the Jaeger program, to the times he's done something stupid while piloting and fucked himself up that way. Included in the slideshow are bruises and scrapes, colds and headaches, nosebleeds, splinters, whatever he can think of that would help her understand how the human body works and how it deals with injuries and pain.

She doesn't like what she's seeing, not at all. It's building inside if her, a panic she doesn't understand. She's trying to understand, but the concept is foreign. Why have an entity than cannot be repaired?

She presses deeper, concern the prominent emotion as she digs. She finds that with age comes other problems and then death.

Death.

That's something she's familiar with and she releases him instantly, staggering backwards with a gasp.

No.

He thinks her concern for him is sweet, if somewhat misguided, but he doesn't try to halt her curious poking around in his head. Not, at least, until she realizes that after a while he's going to die regardless of what he does with his life, and then she reels back like he's hit her.

Gipsy? Instantly, he's reaching for her, concerned and more than a little alarmed by her reaction.

Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay, love, I'm fine.

She pulls further away, grief washing over her as memories of Yancy and his death wash through the Drift.

It's pointless! She looks at him helplessly, a little wildly. It's so pointless!

She's the one chasing a rabbit now. Losing Yancy had been painful, and all that's brought back anew.

Her avatar is still here, and so Herc doesn't let himself hesitate before he pulls her into his arms again, holding her close and cradling her against his chest as he tries to talk her down.

No it's not, nothing is pointless. Least of all life. I've had a great life, Gipsy, and so have you. So did Yancy. There are parts that are scary, sure, and parts that are painful, but there are also parts that are exciting and joyous and meaningful, and that's what keeps life from being pointless. Nobody wants to die, but it happens, and that's really awful. I know it's awful.

He knows, alright. Watching Leslie waste away to nothing right before him was the hardest thing he's ever had to go through, and he was the healthy one there.

But that doesn't make any of it pointless.

Initially, Gipsy fights the embrace, but it’s a weak attempt and she doesn’t break away. It’s not what she wants to do, not really – his heat is comforting (and confusing), and while she doesn’t’ ‘cry’, her shoulders tremble and she grips at him, fingers digging into the material of his ‘suit’.

We fight and we fight and we fight and then you die anyway--

Because to a Jaeger, death is strange. They are computers, essentially – massive, technologically advanced computers that have a strange sense of ‘time’ and ‘age’ and ‘life’ and ‘death’. They don’t think like humans do, not when it comes to things like this.

Gipsy knows, realistically, that nothing lives forever – not even her. But to be confronted with it again and in someone so dear to her again, it rips open old wounds and leaves her raw and bleeding, helpless in his arms. He’s barely there in front of her now as she gets lost in her memories, the day that Yancy died. All of her grief and hurt and pain and anger starts to make its way into the drift and she can’t hold it back – not while she’s chasing memories. He’s going to have to relieve Yancy’s death with her, unless he severs the connection.

Herc knows when the tides turn against him, and he knows that he really should disconnect from Gipsy, because having her chasing the rabbit like this with a single pilot will probably be too much neural strain for him. She's too lost in her own memories to remember to hold herself back.

And yet he doesn't pull away, doesn't start the disconnect sequence, just grits his teeth and squares his shoulders and hunkers down to weather the storm.

Hercules always had a bit of a stupid streak.

But he doesn't want her to have to go through this alone, and so here he is, his fingers curling against her spine, a low noise of sympathy rumbling in his chest, both mentally and physically. Tendo is probably freaking out right now, but there's nothing Herc can do about it.

With the readings off the chart like they are, poor Tendo is probably frantically trying to disconnect them both -- especially when it’s the powerful Jaeger that’s doing the rabbit chasing as opposed to the pilot.

Except even lost in her memories, Gipsy never powers up her weapons or poses any kind of threat. It’s like she knows somewhere deep down inside of herself that she could single handedly destroy the Shatterdome, and it’s with that instinctive knowledge that her weapons systems are disengaged, which probably really confuses Tendo. The enormous robot just stands there, resolute and unmoving and hardly dangerous, while inside the drift, pilot and avatar weather an onslaught of horrifically painful memories together.

Gipsy doesn’t hold much back though it’s again instinct to reign the intensity of it back in, at least a little. She’ll regret all of this later, when she realizes what she’s done – but in the moment, all she can do is cling to him, and wait for it to pass.

He experiences Raleigh’s anger, his pain and his rage. He experiences Yancy’s fear, his sheer terror and the very moment that Yancy’s life is extinguished – Herc feels that, too. It’s overwhelming, it’s intense, and when it’s over, Gipsy is limp in his arms, the solid form of the avatar still somehow manifested despite Gipsy herself being utterly spent.

The last thing Hercules wants is to experience someone else's death; especially when that someone else was a pilot he knew and respected, someone he ran beside, someone he cared about. He's already seen so much death in his life, he doesn't want to have to see any more. But he's not going to leave her here alone, and even if she doesn't really register his presence, he's sticking it out, dammit.

He can at least be grateful that she seems to know better than to power up her defense systems; that's one less thing for him to have to worry about.

Instead he just sits there on the nebulous concept of 'ground,' coaxes her avatar into his lap, and holds on tight as she relives one of the worst moments of her life. He realizes he's making soothing noises, murmuring nonsense into her hair to try to reassure her that it's all going to be okay. It's hard to keep up when he can live through Raleigh experiencing his brother's death, but he does his best, tries to stay strong even though his head is reeling and he can feel his upper lip getting wet. A nosebleed is the last thing he needs right now, especially when he can't deal with it properly. He grits his teeth and ducks his head and tries to endure, and eventually, it's all over.

She's left, limp in his arms, and he tries to catch a proper breath.

Gipsy knows it’s the last thing he wants and she is so, so sorry for what she’s just put him through. This? This was last thing that she ever wanted – to force him to go through one of the most horrible and traumatic experiences of her entire life. No one should feel the death of a loved one directly – it’s painful and it hurts and she’s hurting him by making him share it with her.

She lays there in his lap, unmoving and unresponsive for a time until she’s able to restore power to the parts of her processor that Tendo shut down in order to reduce the strain on both Hercules and herself.

Herc is probably going to catch so much shit for this.

I’m so sorry, Hercules Hansen. All I seem to do is cause you pain. That won’t happen again.

Because like hell she’s ever going to let him drift with her again after that. She cannot be responsible for the death of a pilot – especially him. She’s already hurt him enough – who knows how much damage she just did to him? She can’t even think about it.

Please, just go.

The instant the mental onslaught is over, Herc is instead flooded with Gipsy's guilt; that, more than anything else, makes him feel awful. Sure, he's probably crying after experiencing Yancy's terror and Raleigh's wild grief, but that Gipsy blames herself for getting lost in as powerful a memory as that... That makes him choke up a little.

He shakes her shoulders, gruff in face of extreme emotion.

If you think I'm leaving you alone after something like that, you've got another thing coming, missy.

He is going to get in so much trouble, Tendo's going to yell at him, Stacker's going to yell at him, hell, even Chuck is going to yell at him, but Herc can't bring himself to care right now. She's not the only one feeling emotional and vulnerable right now.

I'm not going anywhere.

It isn’t just guilt about tormenting Hercules, either. Gipsy partially blames herself for what happened to Yancy. She couldn’t protect him, couldn’t save him – and she hadn’t been able to react fast enough to shield Raleigh from being connected to Yancy when he died.

And now she’s hurt someone else important to her – and Gipsy can barely take it. Guilt gnaws at her and leaves her emotionally spent and exhausted and knowing she’s left him feeling the same way makes it so much worse.

I’ve hurt you.

She knows she has. Even if he’s not saying it, she knows it. The Drift is a fickle thing sometimes, betraying emotions and thoughts and ailments like it does. Despite it all, she feels selfish – she doesn’t really want him to leave her, but she knows he needs to.

Go, before I hurt you more. She can’t bring herself to shove him out, though. Not yet.

He'd tell her that it wasn't her fault that Yancy died, that it was a risk all pilots took every time they set foot in a Yaeger and walked out to do battle, that Yancy and Raleigh both knew what it was they were getting into. But he won't, because he knows she knows that, just like he knows that guilt often doesn't pay any attention to logic or reason. He still feels guilty for Leslie's death all those years ago, and he quite literally had nothing whatsoever to do with that.

He shifts his arms on her and kisses her hair, stroking her back slowly as he wrenches himself out of the pained haze such powerful memories put him in.

It's okay, love, I don't blame you for it.

There's no point in denying what she's said; she's right. She did hurt him. But he doesn't exactly mind. She couldn't help it. Everyone gets caught by their memories once in a while.

I'm not leaving you, Gipsy.

…Everything he’s doing…it just makes it so much worse. It’s making her insides feel all twisted up like a Kaiju had torn her from inside out and left pieces of her scattered on the ground. Her ‘heart’ feels shattered; that piece of her that allows emotional capabilities, that important piece that allows her to Drift and connect with her pilots feels fractured and flawed -- she feels like a disgrace, a failure. She’s hurt a pilot – something that she’s not ever supposed to do. She wouldn’t be terribly surprised if she’s entirely reformatted after this, time permitting.

You should blame me.

She’s more insistent now, pulling out of his arms and trying to stand. The image flickers, but for him – she maintains it, and allows the avatar to remain. It’s the least she can do – give him someone to look at, to get angry with, and to hate.

Go, Hercules. Before I disconnect myself.

Hercules has had a lot of unwinable arguments in his life, quite a lot of them with his wife when she was sick, when she wanted him to leave her so that he and Chuck wouldn't have to go through watching her die slowly and painfully. He knows how to do this.

So instead of getting angry at her, he just lets her push out of his arms, lets her stand and try to make him angry. It won't work.

I don't want to go. His head hurts. He should go. He should disconnect and go lie down and look back on his life choices. But he doesn't want to. And I won't blame you for this because it's not your fault.

That wasn’t the answer that she wanted. Not even remotely. It would almost be easier if he were angry with her, because then everything would make sense. How he’s reacting simply isn’t processing correctly. He should be angry, but he’s not. He should want out, but he doesn’t. He should hate her, but it’s so far from that emotion that Gipsy’s own processor is beginning to ache.

. . .

Godammit, Hercules!

Pulling from the language she’s both seen and heard from him, it’s Gipsy getting angry with him now. It isn’t fair – how is he so calm when he should be furious?

Go! You’re making it worse! Just – go! Please!

Edited 2013-07-18 15:48 (UTC)

Apparently Gipsy knows how to fight dirty. He was quite willing to stay when he knew he was only hurting himself, but if he's hurting her...

He's pretty sure she's just lashing out to hurt him, but he doesn't want to risk it.

Gipsy... He's on his feet now but he doesn't remember standing, his hands outstretched in supplication. I don't want to hurt you. If I'm just making it worse...

She is – she’s lashing out, because she thinks it’ll be easier this way. He should be mad – he should be livid. He should never forgive her.

It’s not what she wants, but…it’s what should be happening. He’s so inherently stubborn that he’s not following what logically should happen. It’s fucking with her processor and she doesn’t know how to deal. She understands the concept of forgiveness – if Raleigh arrived, he would immediately be forgiven for leaving.

She just doesn’t think it should be extended to her in this particular instance.

Goodbye, Hercules.

With a low, metallic whine of pain and hurt and anguish, she severs their connection, leaving him alone in the pod and her alone to her thoughts.

Enjoy the bitching out you’re going to get, Hercules. It’s probably going to really suck.

Hercules isn't unused to this kind of bemusement, it's an emotion he wore often enough when he fought with Leslie. When he's not entirely certain what just happened, but that he's pretty sure it's his fault. Or at least, that he could have done something to fix it, but didn't, and now everything is more than a little fucked up.

He tries to call out to her, but she stays resolutely silent, and even Herc knows better than to try and reestablish the Drift after what just happened.

So, reluctant as ever, he climbs out of the cockpit and makes his way to the control room on slightly-unsteady legs. He knows just how much trouble he's in, but at least Hercules is able and willing to stand up and face the music when he has to. It helps that he knows that Stacker will yell and rail and threaten him with permanent grounding, but then he'll pour them both some scotch and they'll sit quietly in his office and lament the direction their lives have took.

Gipsy sits in silence, resolute and unyielding in any attempts to drift with her by anyone. Hercules leaves and anyone else that might try and step in is automatically rejected. No one can reach the Jaeger, not right now. It’s annoying, especially to Tendo and the others that are trying to get this crazy Jaeger completely functional again and it’s an arduous process that is completed from the outside in. They’re only able to judge what they can see – anything mental isn’t really reparable – it’d be like trying to ‘fix’ the human psyche. You just can’t take a wrench to it and bang out the problems. Human brains don’t work like that and apparently, neither do Jaegers.

It’s going to be a long couple of days.

After a day off to rest and recuperate — honestly, he could use more than a day, but he's got things he needs to do — Hercules tells Tendo to stop throwing rookies at her, since she'll refuse to drift with them; he'll do it.

Or at least, he'll try. Gipsy rebuffs him when he tries to speak with her, won't even beep or whirr at him in response, and he gives up after twenty minutes of trying to coax her into letting him in to her cockpit.

The same thing happens the next day, and the next, until he just throws up his hands and tells Tendo he's on his own to fix this, dammit, he can't think of anything else to do and he's got other things that need attention that aren't childish and stubborn Jaegers. (It's possible her stalwart refusal to speak to him has hurt his feelings. He'll never tell.)

He stops coming to visit.

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