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renaroo · 7 years

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Double Time (10/24)

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence Pairings: Tuckington, Chex Rating: T Synopsis: [Hero Time Sequel] After the events of Hero Time, the city and Blood Gulch are prepared for the true return of superheroes in a big way. But while Washington is attempting to adjust to a new relationship and a new living arrangement, the call of new heroes and a new mayor mean major changes for his professional life as well as his personal one. How will the balance of values fare when his new partners come to test everything he’s made of.

A/N: Who’s ready for things to get SAPPY in here? I am. I’m totally read for some more sap. Which is why I wrote it. ;P

Special thanks to @analiarvb, @secretlystephaniebrown, @thepheonixqueen, @ashleystlawrence, @washingtonstub, @imagentmi, @a-taller-tale, @icefrozenover, @matt-you-got-this, @notatroll7, and Yin on AO3 and tumblr for the wonderful feed back! I truly appreciate it more than you know.

All On His Own

When Wash usually opened the door and was met by Church’s unimpressed expression, he was a swath of emotions ranging from mutually annoyed to exhaustedly accepting.

On that rarest of nights, Wash was relieved and -- more than even that -- had been the one to call up the annoyed former super villain himself.

“I hate babysitting,” Church reported immediately, shoving past Washington without even bothering to shut the door behind him.

“I know,” Wash replied, taking the time to shut the door.

“Junior hates me babysitting even more,” Church continued, turning and giving a level glare toward Wash. “Like, I’m pretty sure that little demon is big enough now that if I was organic in any way he’d just eat me and be done with it.”

Wash let the rant run its course and began gathering the rest of his gear and putting on his visor. Junior murmured angrily and chewed on the edge of the couch in agitation as he watched get ready to leave him.

“Does Tucker know that you’re talking to me without him forcing you to?” Church asked testily, looking through the fridge for beer. “He might get jealous or something else disgusting.”

“Pretty sure he’d just consider it a breakthrough and annoy us both,” Wash replied dryly. He stopped by the couch where the supremely upset Junior leered at him. He offered an apologetic smile and then held out his fist for a bump.

With a small chatter, Junior complied, apparently willing to allow all transgressions to melt away so long as his hero worship could continue.

“I don’t get why you’re doing this,” Church said, leaning against the kitchen island with his beer. Like he always did despite his inability to drink with nothing but a robotic gullet. “I mean, I’d personally quit the hero business after getting my ass handed to me on national television by a single dude with a shitty costume.”

“Black’s intimidating,” Wash replied, looking toward Church with a raised brow. “I guess you’d have been more impressed if he was wearing a florescent wig and bought the rest of his gear from Hot Topic.”

Church had the gall to look offended and waved to his chest and the Ursula sweatshirt that Wash was just about sick of seeing. “This is official Disney merchandise!”

“Right,” Wash replied. “In any case, getting my ass kicked, as you say, is exactly why I’m going out tonight. I need to make some adjustments to my plans for the future. Need to restrategize--”

Letting out an annoyed groan Church held up his hands and shook his head. “And I made the mistake of making you think I actually cared. My mistake. Please get your dumb face out of here before I’m further annoyed. Too late. Now get out of here before I’m further annoyed. I’ll even say please. Since you cornballs love that bullshit.”

With a long sigh, Washington ignored Church and made his way instead over to the far more annoyed and far more curious Junior who was standing on the couch seat and leaned up against the back, trying to watch Wash more carefully.

“Sorry to be in such a rush, and for the unexpected babysitting, kiddo,” Wash said to the hybrid child. “I’ll be home before you know it, though.”

“Yeah, you’ve done a bang up job of keeping promises lately,” Church mocked.

Screwing his eyes shut, Washington let out a long grunt of aggravation. “Church.”

The robot crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Yeah? Church what?”

“Nevermind, just... watch Junior and try not to kill each other,” Wash said, heading for the stairwell. “Surely that won’t be too difficult for you to manage.”

“I’ll manage the shit out of it just to spite you,” Church snapped nonsensically.

Washington didn’t even bother responding to that notion, merely shaking his head as he headed up the stairs and got to the roof. He kept telling himself that arguing with his boyfriend’s best friend was really not the best use of his time.

On the roof, though, away from wandering eyes of the strange community he had built out of his once very quiet and lonesome apartment, Washington was able to regress to nearly pure muscle memory.

His motorcycle was maybe his favorite piece of equipment to use for obvious reasons, but his natural abilities and the training he had underwent through the sidekick program at Freelancer was truly most fulfilled by traveling across the rooftops of Blood Gulch.

Racing forward one step at a time, one leap at a time, Washington felt everything fro the cool winds working against hi to the vibrations of the loud sounds of the city.

Even before Tucker, even before being tied by mind, body, and soul to the strange Blood Gulch community, Washington had been letting the connection withe the city and its winds

Which was a good thing because reaching destinations like Sarge’s falling apart house could otherwise easily discourage any veteran superhero who had ambitions of bettering the world.

Especially when the front door flew open and Sarge stood patiently with a gun trained between his eyes.

“You’re’a trespassing, Scumbag!” Sarge called out without even taking the time to see that it was Washington on the other side of the gun.

“Guns are not legal inside city limits,” Washington reminded him dully.”And I have friends in high places these days.”

“Oh, right,” Sarge responded, putting his muzzle of his gun down. “But you should know, as a retired officer of the law, I have a conceal and carry! So, as the great Reds before me have said: Naner naner nah hoo!”

"I still don’t believe a word of any of that,” Wash replied, lowering his hands with some amount of confidence that Sarge wouldn’t shoot him at that point. No matter how earned or unearned that feeling might have been.

“Hmph,” Sarge muttered. “Good thing I don’t care much for the opinion of someone who got their butt handed to them in front of national television.” He gave an appraising look over Washington. “Look pretty good now, though. Only bruised your ego?”

“Not nearly as much as the fact that everyone else keeps bringing it up for some reason,” Wash remarked. “But somehow I think I’ll manage. What I need to know is if Blood Gulch is still going to have some form of superheroes supporting it even without my oversight.”

Sarge tilted his head. “After that performance, you really think the only thing keeping the Red Dead Blood Gulch Gang on the current path is fealty to someone who can’t hold his own against someone in a terrible costume?”

“I really don’t think anyone who was a villain in this neighborhood has any right to judge other costumes, and I refuse to resort to complimenting someone who tried to kill me, but there was definitely a good sense of style with the Locus guy.”

“Please, he wore green,” Sarge snorted. “That’s almost as bad as you -- going around, showing off your physique in a costume that’s blue. Disgusting and foolish.”

“Blue is heroic,” Wash argued before he could catch himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh my god, what am I doing? I’m arguing with a madman who thinks painting street signs is a productive use of his time.”

“You’ve never seen what a menace those street signs could have been before I taught them what’s what!” Sarge argued. He chuckled. “Ah, those were the days. Before you came along and tried to make everyone go straight! Which is fairly ironic all things considering.”

“Oh, shut up,” Wash snapped. “This isn’t what I’m here for.”

“What are you here for, Washington?” Sarge asked suspiciously. “This is my home.”

“I came here because I faced my own mortality and I need to make sure that in the event of my death, that you -- as the leader of your little delinquent group of poker buddies -- can be relied on to still take care of the neighborhood,” Wash explained simply. “And that Tucker and Junior are going to be provided for.”

Sarge stared at him for a curiously long amount of time, his expression mostly unredable.

“Yeah, sure,” Sarge replied with a casual shrug. “Why not? The boys seem to like them even before you came along. In fact, I think we may like them in spite of you coming along.”

Perhaps a bit in spite of himself as well, Washington let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Thank you, Sarge. That’s actually a comforting thing to hear.”

“It is? Damn it all, that wasn’t what I wanted at all,” Sarge muttered to himself. “Well, fine, whatever. I suppose I’ll admit to comforting you inadvertently someday. When forced under extreme interrogation or even torture.”

“Hm, and comfort is rapidly being lost,” Wash said to somewhat comfort the old, grouchy man.”

“Heh heh Bingo. Still got it,” Sarge chuckled. “But seriously, Kitty-cat, Blood Gulch belonged to the Reds long before you came along and proved to make a good hood ornament of nearly every type of vehicle one could imagine.”

“My humor is being drained rapidly,” Wash warned.

“I’m just telling ya not to sweat it,” Sarge said. “We’ll do what we always do in Blood Gulch. Rage against the establishment, fortify ourselves against mild annoyances. And stubbornly refuse to take care of the rest of the world. Even if it’s only three streets away from our neighborhood.”

“Okay I’m appreciating this conversation less and less the longer I stand here, so I’m going to make my leave. Somewhat dramatically,” Wash said, heading toward the other side of the street. “Pretty sure I saw a fire escape I could climb over here.”

“If you were my friend instead of acting like a parole officer for me and my movement, I would offer letting you use the second floor of my house! But you’ve not lost enough clothes on strip poker night for me to even call us acquainted!” Sarge continued to mock, shouting to make his point as Wash crossed the street.

“I’m honestly ignoring you!” Wash called back as he reached the other side of the street and quickly made his way to the rooftops on the very fire escape he had been mentioning.

Once again, he let his instincts run supreme. With the arrangement with the Reds no longer a concern, he could truly let loose and concentrate on a more average patrol. Specifically one that included taking out as many small time muggers and thieves as possible.

Those plans for his evening, however, did not get him far when he was tackled by an invisible, but recognizable force and sent rolling onto the rooftop.

“Tex!” he growled as he looked up and saw his fellow hero appear.

“Stay down,” she ordered, looking around warily before turning invisible again and slinking to his side, close enough he could feel her shoulder brushing his own.

“Tex,” he whispered. “What are you doing?”

"Do you not have some kind of cat sense or something?” her disembodied voice asked testily. “Something useful in that repertoire of stupid you call your super powers?”

“I see very well in the dark,” Wash replied flatly.

“God you’re lame,” she muttered back.

Squinting at her general area in annoyance, Wash pushed himself slightly off the pavement. “You sure you and Church can’t work... whatever it is out? It seems like you were made for each other. You definitely hold the same opinions of me.”

“Don’t offend me, I’m trying to save your life,” Tex said testily.

“From what?” he demanded.

“There’s something that was watching you from a few rooftops over. Again. And I’m not convinced it doesn’t have something to do with the asshole who kicked your sorry feline butt on public access,” she explained. After allowing a moment to lapse into silence, she reappeared where she stood and scowled toward the buildings across the road. “Damn. Got away again.”

Officially annoyed, Wash leaped to his feet and glared at Tex. “Okay, start explaining stuff to me, and maybe start with why you didn’t help me the other day if you were seeing me get my feline butt handed to me.”

Tex turned and gave him a particularly daunting look.

Flinching back Wash felt that swelling of boldness die a bit in his chest before he shrugged. “Please?”

She then shook her head. “No. I’m still looking into it.”

“Into what?” Wash demanded. “And what do you know about this Felix character that apparently saved my life? He seeps like... like...”

“A jackass?” Tex questioned.

“That’s putting it mildly. But... he saved my life,” Wash grunted out almost reluctantly. “And Tucker seemed to trust him.”

“Well, no shit, he saved the thing Tucker’s currently fucking. He’s lucky Tucker didn’t make moves on him,” Tex snorted.

“That thing is me, though,” Wash snapped.

“Which I’ve saved before, too. But Tucker knows better than to make moves on me. I would so kick his ass without thinking twice,” Tex chuckled. “But that’s beyond the point.”

Throwing up his hands, Wash was just about done with the circles they were running in. “What is the point, Tex? What the hell is going on?”

"I’m not in the business of giving straight answers,” Tex replied simply. “And for the record, I’m also not in the business of working with partners. Every time I do, I get disappointed. And I like you too much at a distance to really ruin that right now, so there’s your answer for earlier.”

Washington scowled at her. “You really believe I’m going to accept that as the final answer there. Tex, I can tell you know there’s more going on. And to be honest, as someone else who is pretty dedicated to a solo career, I’m not thrilled with needing to rely on you being truthful with me.”

“Solo career?” Tex laughed, looking back at him. “Wash, fuck off. You think you’re solo? You’re the furthest thing from it. Your problem is that you haven’t figured out yet when you’re relying on people too much and when they are or aren’t the right people to be relying on.” She looked off, a frown tugging at her lips. “Guess that was a lesson CT hadn’t gotten to yet.”

Thrown off at first, Wash let his jaw hang open. It quickly snapped shut however and he glared at his former teammate. “You don’t get to evoke Connie on the fly like that. She was my mentor. And she taught me everything I know.”

“Same,” Tex said. “In a less professional sense. Not that it matters in the end.” She turned away from Wash. “CT trusted me to help her with her suspicions. And because of that I know something about what’s going on right now, Wash. Can you trust me enough to take my advice blindly?”

“I don’t know,” Wash said honestly. “Maybe I have to remind you that Connie ended up dead by the end of all that. And I still haven’t gotten any answers for it.”

Tex hummed rather than fire back with a similarly damning remark, but Wash didn’t miss the way her eyes flickered with her glare. “Go home, Wash,” she said instead. “You might’ve come out of that fight physically intact, but you shouldn’t be out superheroing with any wounds. That includes your pride.”

“One to talk,” Wash said back. “You better keep me updated on whatever this mysterious thing that’s watching me is.”

“Maybe I will,” Tex responded before disappearing.

Wash waited for a moment, until every sense he had told him he was alone. Then he reluctantly took Tex’s advice and started the journey back home. He hadn’t been able to keep track of his request to Tex like he had Sarge, but he figured she had been looking out for Tucker, Junior, and the rest of the Blood Gulch gang longer than Wash had ever been in the picture.

He wouldn’t have to ask the same morbid line of questions of her.

There were only three buildings between him and home when he recognized an outline standing on his roof.

Encouraged and intrigued, Wash sped up, getting to the rooftop in record time, expecting to be met with the smells of a meal from the diner waiting on him along with Tucker.

He wasn’t.

Once Tucker heard him coming, he turned and gave Wash something of a distant look, almost like he was struggling with what expression to pull. It wasn’t the most inviting reception Wash had has.

“No leftovers from the diner tonight?” Wash asked as he landed on the roof. “I almost feel forgotten.”

“You went out tonight,” Tucker stated plainly. “One night after that thing with Locus and you went out again.”

“I’m fully healed,” Wash responded quickly, tilting his head. “You didn’t mind when I saved you and your son just two nights after being hit by a car.”

“Your son,” Tucker repeated again, the hint of anger in his voice not at all lost on Wash.

“We need to talk?” Washington asked worriedly.

“We need to talk,” Tucker confirmed, crossing his arms. “But I’m not really sure what either of us can say?”

“What does that mean?” Wash asked.

“I really don’t know,” Tucker said. “I feel like we’re stuck but we barely have even gotten started.”

“This stuff,” Wash said, waving to his suit and to the skyline of the city. “Tucker, it’s going to be a routine for me. And for you.”

“And this,” Tucker said, pointing at himself and to the door down to the apartment where Junior was no doubt eavesdropping eagerly. “This is going to be a routine for us, too. But only if we both want it to be.”

Taken aback, Wash tilted up his chin. “You think I don’t want it to be?”

“I think we need to work together to figure out how this is going to work. Especially where Junior is involved,” Tucker pressed. “Because I’m fine with babysitters if I know ahead of time.”

Suddenly, relief took over Wash’s body and he sighed with relief. “Church drank all the beer.”

“Yes!” Tucker shouted throwing up his arms. “Wash, you know we have to hide it! He completely wastes it! He can’t even get drunk.”

“You’re right,” Wash laughed. “My mistake.”

“You better believe it is,” Tucker said, poking Wash’s chest. “And mister superhero, I think I’m allowed to request one night off from you after near death experiences.It’s only fair.”

“You’re right,” Wash laughed. “But I had to put some things in order. Had to make sure plans were in place for bad scenarios. That I’m trusting all the right people.”

Tucker raised an eyebrow. “Are you trusting all the right people?” he asked curiously.

“I’m trusting you,” Wash responded lightly. “That’s more than enough for me. Now, c’mon. Let’s eat some Dinfast.”

“Dinfast?” Tucker asked, swinging an arm around Wash’s shoulders and guiding him toward the stairwell. “What the hell’s that.”

“Dinner-breakfast,” Wash retorted. “What? You’ve never heard of it? Who’s never heard of Dinfast?”

#writing #rvb fic #RvB: Double Time #RvB: Hero Time #Tuckington #Agent Washington #Alpha Church #Tucker Junior #Colonel Sarge #Agent Texas #Lavernius Tucker

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