“Stop…” right to his cheekbone, “being…” left to his ribs, “an asshole!” Sawyer ended with a solid left to Maverick’s nose as his anger diminished with the physical exertion.
“I’m the asshole?” Maverick whined, holding his bleeding nose as his body heaved with mental, emotional, and physical exertion.
“I think we can safely assume you’re both assholes,” Wil chuckled pridefully at his dual insult, the metal of the building bowing to his presence against it.
“Think this is funny, Wil?” Sawyer raised his brow at Wil’s entertained posture.
“Yeah, I do.” Wil’s smug response shattered the remnants of temper between the brothers, who looked at each other meaningfully before moving as one toward Wil. His amused smile faded with the movement, holding out his hands pleadingly as they neared. “Don’t even think about it!”
“Too late!” Maverick launched at Wil, knocking them into the muck with Sawyer close behind.
Wil released a stream of curses, shoving the added weight pressing him deeper in the mud. Sawyer rolled away as water gurgled around them, but Maverick stayed long enough to smear slime through Wil’s golden hair. “Ugh, get off, turd!” Wil’s demand sparked a chuckle in Sawyer’s gut which quickly escalated into a bubbling laugh. Maverick and Wil stilled at his amusement, the sight of their wide eyes staring out from mud-encrusted faces striking Sawyer as hilarious.
“No, you can’t…” Carl’s frantic shout from the doorway trailed off as he noticed their situation. His mouth remained opened, but no words emerged for several moments as he blinked in confused wonder. “What are you doing?”
“Being assholes,” Wil threw a handful of mud at Maverick’s fleeing form, his voice only mimicking anger as his lips quivered in hidden amusement.
“And, I’m the one they call crazy,” Carl muttered lucidly as he shook his head at their antics.
Maverick moved toward the building, but Sawyer stopped him before he took a full step. “I’m wet, dirty, and exhausted. We’re going back before the flats become impassable. I want a shower.”
“I’m going to second that one,” Wil raised one hand to vote as the other uselessly brushed at the mud on his jacket. “Come on, kid. This has been fun and all, but we stink like swamp and I’m starting to chafe.”
“Gross,” Maverick sneered.
“Yes, shower,” Carl waved an arm at them to come with him, “in the lockers.”
“The lockers? This place has running water?” Sawyer asked dubiously.
“Water materialization system for long-term sustainment,” Maverick answered with a nod. “They planned these old buildings for long-term sustainability in case there wasn’t easily accessible water on the surface.”
“Water is everywhere; the air we breathe, the fluid we sweat, the particles of matter too small to see,” Carl shifted anxiously, his eyes scanning the night.
“Yeah, I get it,” Sawyer stopped the man’s ranting as he became increasingly fidgety. Leaning toward Maverick, he whispered in a tone too low for Carl to hear from his distance, “what’s wrong with him?”
“You mean besides the obvious?” Wil mumbled in response before Maverick could answer.
“He doesn’t like the dark,” Maverick shared the information, taking a step toward Carl.
“Mav,” Sawyer crossed his arms over his mud-coated chest.
“What?” Maverick questioned with a half-smile and raised brow. “We have everything we need right here. Showers, beds, water, food, even clothes; what else do we need?”
“You have all that here?” Wil asked dubiously.
“Yeah, on the ship. We’ve been stocking her for months. Whatever I can grab.”
“Why?” Wil blinked at Maverick’s information.
“We don’t know what’s out there; if there are other stations, or planets. We wanted to be prepared for every possibility,” Maverick explained as if speaking to a child, insinuating Wil should know the answer already.
“We aren’t leaving Flamouria,” Sawyer’s anger surged through his discomfort.
“Man, you know I’m all for the comforts of our quarters,” Wil looked down at his feet as they sunk in the puddles their physical altercation formed. “But, I think we may need to consider that whole ‘impassable’ thing.”
Sawyer looked around him, confident they could make the trek back to the dwellings without too much impedance. “We’ll be fine.”
“Granted, but we are cold, wet, and covered in mud,” Wil held up a hand in placation as he formed his argument. “All I’m saying is, the turd says we have showers and clothes here. It would be a much easier walk back if we weren’t dragging all of this extra mud with us.”
Sawyer opened his mouth, seeking an argument against Wil’s logic but finding none. While they were physically capable of making the journey as they were, the addition of their heavy, damp clothing would make for a slow, miserable experience. Looking toward the distant lit heart of Alpha Sect, Sawyer accepted the democracy he’d previously denied. “Where are the extra clothes?” Sawyer asked Maverick with a sigh, shaking mud from his arms as he stepped toward the building.
“I’ll get them,” Maverick’s face lit up at his brother’s acquiescence. “This will be great! We can stay on the ship. We have the sleeping quarters made up already.”
“We’re not staying the night, Mav. We’re just cleaning up and going home.” Sawyer’s words halted Maverick’s steps, his back looking strained as if weighted down by a large burden.
“Why?” The thickness of Maverick’s tone held remnants of emotional strain, making it clear to Sawyer he wasn’t asking for an explanation of his choice. “Why don’t you want to remember?” The question clung to the humid air they drew into their lungs, saturating every fiber of their beings and vibrating the tension between them.
“When you think of all those things, you feel better; it makes the bad memories easier. It doesn’t do that for me. For me, it just,” Sawyer swallowed the ball of acid in his throat, “it hurts.”
“And being here in Alpha Sect makes that any better?” Maverick
