"this world keeps spinning faster, into a new disaster" (lady antebellum)

[starandrea]

Thanks, marcicat, for talking Gem and Gemma through with me! ♥

For previous entries tagged "steering you home,"
click and scroll down (reverse chronology).


vitality

He hadn't slept in what felt like days, and he knew when he was pushing it. So before any of his critical systems started compromising the less critical ones just to keep functioning, he laid down and tried to turn off his brain. Not literally. Just enough that he wouldn't dream.

For a long time he had welcomed the dreams, nightmarish though they seemed, as his only connection to the past. Now he didn't know what was real and what wasn't, and he'd rather not walk into another Venjix trap. The fear had kept him from sleeping this long... but now it seemed like he didn't have a choice.

Because he couldn't do it. It wasn't the noise from the garage, even if it was the middle of the afternoon. And it wasn't the ache in his shoulder that had plagued him ever since the virus was reactivated. It wasn't even the virus itself, or agonizing over it.

Ziggy's voice was the last straw. He got up, opened the door, and took less than a second to assess the scene on the catwalk: Ziggy hanging over the railing, yelling something to Flynn about the music and the way it sounded like engine noise, and Flynn threatening to drop something on him from all the way down there.

"Hey," Dillon said, and Ziggy jumped. "We need to talk."

"Uh, okay." He'd barely turned away from the railing when Dillon reminded himself for the third time not to just grab him and shove him into the room. He might as well pretend he knew how to be patient. Apparently he wasn't going to get far with either of them if he didn't.

He even managed to wait for the door to close behind them before he said, "I think the wonder twins are Venjix operatives. Don't tell anyone. Also, the doc's afraid you're keeping things from her."

Ziggy gaped at him for less time than it would have taken anyone else to process what he'd said. "Okay," he said, "the irony of that as a conversation opener is, well, really kind of overwhelming. I assume you have some vague, semi-relevant concept, maybe, of how it sounds?"

"It sounds like me telling you two important and unrelated things," Dillon informed him.

"Yeah, see--" Ziggy shook his head, a laugh escaping as he held up his hand. "It's the fact that you think they're unrelated that kills me. But look, I think we should probably deal with the part that could kill all of us first, so... Venjix operatives? Miss Happy and Mr. Go Lucky? How does that work?"

"They're cyborgs," Dillon said. "I don't think the doc knows."

"How do you know?" Ziggy asked indignantly. "They just got here! You take one look at them and boom--well, bang; boom is getting a little overused with their tendency toward loud and frankly kind of graphic reenactments of various explosions, most of which seem to be caused by them, but..."

Dillon just looked at him, and finally Ziggy trailed off and just stared back at him. "You know," he finished. "So how do you know?"

"I don't," Dillon said. "But they're going to a lot of trouble to hide it, and that can't be a good sign."

"Um, you just heard yourself, right?" Ziggy was squinting at him. "The fact that they don't show any evidence of being cyborgs is the reason they are? Which, I mean, okay, it has a certain pleasing if very circular logic, but, uh, consider this: maybe they're not cyborgs at all, and that's why they don't show it?"

"Oh, yeah," he said flatly. "That makes sense."

Ziggy gave him a suspicious look, and Dillon rolled his eyes.

"Look," he said, because Ziggy was clearly missing the important part of this conversation. "You're creeping the doc out by keeping stuff to yourself. She knows you know, okay; don't pretend you don't."

"Are we really having this conversation?" Ziggy demanded. "I mean, are we standing here, having this conversation?"

There didn't seem to be any reasonable answer to this. "I was trying to sleep," Dillon said at last.

"Well, I'm trying to figure you out," Ziggy informed him. "Really, you're gonna tell me something totally, I don't know, off the wall, and also that I shouldn't tell anyone, and to you the important thing is that somehow I'm mysteriously keeping secrets from Doc K, which by the way I'm not because someone would have to actually tell me something for me to keep it a secret!"

Dillon frowned. "She thinks you know stuff you're not telling her."

"Like she ever tells us anything!" Ziggy exclaimed. "Like you ever tell anyone anything! Why am I the one who has to change, huh?"

"I don't know anything," Dillon said testily. "If I had anything to tell you, I would. But I don't."

"That amnesia excuse always works for you, doesn't it," Ziggy muttered. "Which, I'm not saying it shouldn't, right? It's just, you know what I know? I know it works for her too, so I'm just doing everyone a favor by trying not to be weird, and then you tell me that trying not to be weird is weird!"

"You're babbling," Dillon remarked, for lack of anything better to say.

Ziggy stared at him. "Uh, yeah, have you met me?"

"Have we kissed?" Dillon countered.

Ziggy blinked. "I--I'm pretty sure I'd remember that."

"You want to?"

"Gee, let me think." Ziggy came that close to rolling his eyes. "Did I risk freaking you out and pissing off Dr. K so I could hang out with you exactly the way we did before? No, actually I didn't. So I think, in this case, the answer to your question--"

His voice broke as Dillon stepped closer, and he stopped talking.

"I think you're funny," Dillon told him.

Ziggy swallowed, but he didn't back down. "Yeah," he agreed, though his tone was softer than it had been before. "I like you, too."