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phantomwarrior12 · 6 years

Text

Finally Home (End)

Summary: Sometimes the journey home is the hardest part, but it’s a journey well worth it.

Word Count: 3,444

Warnings: Canon-style swearing, angst, fluff, the works

A/N: Hey folks!

This is it, the final chapter of Saudade. It’s been a journey, for lack of a better word. I began this series a little under a year ago and I don’t think I’ve had this much fun exploring a character’s psyche as I did with Felix. :)

Thank you to all of y’all who stuck around and took an interest in this story, despite my...unreliable posting schedule. Y’all are fabulous and I love you!

Enjoy this final chapter! :)

~ Phantom

------------

"You're nightmares are getting worse."

Isaac allows the heels of his hands to fall away from his eyes, stars and spots fading with ever blink.

"What?"

"You spent the night tossing and turning...and screaming." Sam doesn't look up from his sniper rifle, running a cloth over the scope for what seems like the hundredth time.

"They're not that bad," Isaac waves him off, pushing himself upwards from the bed and shuffling across the floor to wash his face.

"Really?" Skeptical inquiry.

"Yes. Now let it go," Isaac snaps, splashing cool water over sweat-slicked skin.

"Felix--"

"Let. It. Go." Isaac retorts, turning a meaningful glower on his partner.

Sam arches an eyebrow but turns back to the weapon in his hand, "Mason reached out."

The towel drops away from his face as he wheels about to face Sam, "What'd he say?"

"He was checking in, wanted to see if we had reconciled."

"And what'd you tell him?" Isaac arches an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest.

Sam levels grey on the lean mercenary, gauging the expression etched into his partner's features, "That it's a work in progress."

Isaac tilts his head, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth, "How very Locus of you."

"What does that even mean?"

Isaac offers a shrug and turns back to the dated mirror, "You've always been a cautious guy, Ortez. You don't rush into things or jump to conclusions. You like to take things slow."

"Experience has dictated--"

"--you rely a little too much on past experiences, Sam. People change and you gotta adapt."

Sam rolls his eyes and returns to reassembling his weapon, "sometimes caution is the best adaptation."

Isaac waves him off as he shuffles back over to his cot, collapsing onto the sheets with a sigh, "Cautious is no way to live, Sam."

"No, but it's a good way to stay alive." Sam returns, deliberately avoiding Isaac's eyes.

"Fair enough," Isaac concedes, rolling onto his side to watch his partner give the rifle one final inspection.

"Ortez?"

He receives a grunt of acknowledgement.

"You ever think about leaving?"

Sam pauses, hesitant as he lays the weapon back on the table and turns to face Isaac, "Sometimes. Why?"

"Well, we've been here for a little over a year and half, and while the Reds and Blues and their petty bickering are amusing, shouldn't we be doing something more? I mean, don't get me wrong, the guys are great and all, but, it doesn't feel right, you know?"

Sam nods slowly, "I know what you mean. Does this mean you want to leave?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Isaac scrubs at his face, rubbing at weary bags beneath his eyes. "I want to see Mason again, see the girls. I'm tired of this life, and while these guys have given us somewhere to live, it doesn't feel like home, Sam."

Sam hesitates, something so characteristic of his brother, Isaac almost laughs at the irony of it all so soon after their initial conversation starter.

"I miss them, too," the stoic mercenary admits at last, meeting Isaac's eyes across the room, "the last time we saw them, they were--"

"--just kids. Mel'll practically be an adult. And Miki? She's nearly out of high school." There's a shadow of a smile that Sam hasn't seen in years, "It'd be nice to see them again."

"Then we're going home."

Isaac sits up abruptly, a reaction, he believes Sam wasn't anticipating given the way his frame stiffens, "Just like that?"

"It's what you want, isn't it?"

Isaac starts to answer, but now, it's his turn to hesitate. For so long, they've done what Isaac wanted, and he doesn't like where it's gotten them. So, he swings his feet onto the floor and levels a solemn gaze on the larger mercenary, "Is it what you want, Sam?"

There's a heavy silence in the room, one that Isaac dearly wishes Sam would break. He's tired of making the decisions, it's why they ended up in this mess the first time around. He won't make the same mistake twice. This time--this time Sam's taking the wheel.

"Yes."

"Then let's go home."

----------------

Every nerve screams, every tendons pleads. It's a rush of sensations, it's nothing but shredding cartilage and shattering bones.

It's all he can remember, all he can feel, and yet, he's still free falling.

"Sam!"

He grapples for something, anything to slow his descent, but it's too late. The rocks are close and there's no saving him now.

He's gone.

----------------

Isaac awakes in a panic to Sam shaking his sweat-coated frame with something closely resembling terror in his eyes.

"Isaac!"

It takes a moment, but when he regains his bearings, slowly realizing how tightly he's gripped Sam's forearms, he recoils.

"What happened?" He croaks, eyes drifting to his trembling hands, throat dry from the screams.

"You had a nightmare." Sam loosens his vice grip on Isaac's shoulders, steadying his shaking form.

"God, it was so real." He murmurs, flexing his hands to try and regain some semblance of control.

"You're all right," Sam tries to assure him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, struggling to calm his own racing pulse.

Both sets of eyes snap to the door when Carolina and Washington stumble in, mirroring looks of concern and terror.

"Are you guys okay?" Carolina steps into the room, emerald darting in search of potential threats.

"We're fine, Isaac--"

"--had a nightmare. Sorry I woke you, guys." Isaac mumbles out an apology, eyes dropping back to the blankets tangled around his legs.

The siblings exchange a look, before Wash takes a cautious step closer, "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Felix--"

"--Wash." Isaac cuts him short, lifting pained brown from the blankets to settle on the the younger Freelancer, "I'm okay. You guys can go back to bed. Sorry I woke you."

His voice is gentle, drained of the fire they've grown so accustomed to hearing. He shifts, straightening his blankets before sliding back down under the covers, rolling on his side away from his partner and the Freelancers.

Sam gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze and stands, ushering the others out, closing the door behind him.

They're talking. It's hushed and garbled through the door, but it's just clear enough for the lean mercenary to make out the end of their conversation.

"You sure he's gonna be okay?"

Wash. Always so considerate, always so worried about everyone else more so than himself.

"It won't be easy, but he'll get through this."

"We'll help where we can." Carolina's voice drifts beneath the door, and for a moment, she almost sounds like Vanessa. He rolls onto his back, zeroing in on her voice, eyes glued on the ceiling.

For a moment, he's back on Chorus, standing beside her and going over reports. For a moment, he isn't lying, for a moment, he isn't planning to betray her, for a fleeting moment, all is right.

"Dammit," Isaac mumbles, struggling, with everything he has, to brush the memory aside. He rubs at his eyes, tears pricking, soul screaming, guilt gnawing.

He slams the side of his fist against the metal wall beside him, as if pounding the wall will silence the memories. It almost works, but the collision startles the group outside the door.

Sam steps inside, Freelancers stealing a glimpse over his shoulder at the tense mess on the cot.

"Isaac?" Sam approaches, kneeling beside his brother, "Isaac, what's wrong?"

It's almost a whisper and Isaac can't find the strength or the words to answer him. Carolina gently nudges Sam back, allowing her to take a seat at Isaac's side.

"It's all right." She lays a hand on his forearm, her voice low and calming.

"It's not." He pushes her hand aside, pushing himself to sit up, roughly wiping away the tear stains on his cheeks.

"What's going on, man?" Washington ventures closer, kneeling beside Sam, quietly searching Isaac's defeated eyes for a single spark of life.

"Don't worry about it."

He jolts slightly when Carolina's hand rests on his shoulder, dragging his eyes up to meet emerald. There's a gentle smile etched into her features, something he never imagined he'd receive from the usually intimidating Freelancer.

"It's okay to be vulnerable, Felix. Nightmares are nothing to be ashamed of, it's just an unfortunate part of being soldiers."

"It's not the nightmares, those I can handle."

Sam lets out a disbelieving snort, earning him a jab from Wash's elbow. The mercenary levels an annoyed look on the youngest Church, one that Washington promptly ignores in favor of asking the inevitable question.

"Then what is it?"

"It's stupid." he grumbles in response, winding his fingers into the blanket and clenching his fist.

"Gates," a chiding tone from Sam, "we talked about this."

"I know, I know. I need to open to the others more."

"This would be a good start."

Isaac's shoulders sag, "Fine." He lifts his gaze, hazel settling on Carolina's curious expression.

"Before you guys showed up on Chorus, Sam and I had already been there for a couple years. In that time, we got to know some of those people pretty well--at least I did." He swallows the lump in his throat, every ounce of his being screaming for him to stop there, but he pushes through. He needs to get past this, he needs some semblance of closure.

So, he squares his shoulders, gathering what remains of his dignity and looks to Carolina, "You sound a lot like Kimball. Same attitude, same tone, and, I guess--I guess I got some flashbacks. Not everything I said to Kimball was a lie, and it's the things I didn't say that bite me in the ass now."

"Oh my God." Wash stares, "you were in love with her."

"I wasn't in love with her! It was a mutual respect." Isaac protests, turning a scowl towards the blonde Freelancer.

"No, I think Wash is right in this case." There's a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of Carolina's lips.

"I'm not with in love with her!" The lean mercenary bites back bitterly.

"They're right, Felix." Sam contributes coolly, folding his arms across his chest.

"Oh, don't you start too!"

"Have you talked to her?" Carolina interjects.

"No. I doubt she even knows I'm alive."

"Oh, she knows." Wash rubs the back of his neck, avoiding Isaac's gaze.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Caboose might've let it slip a couple weeks ago."

"I'm actually quite surprised that he made it this long." Carolina snorts, shaking her head.

"Then why the hell am I still alive? I would've thought their entire military would be knocking at our door."

"Kimball is still trying to sort out the whole freedom thing with the UNSC. They don't really want to let go of Chorus now that they know they had it at one point." Wash supplies, "so, she quite literally has been too busy to kill you."

"Thanks, Wash. That's very reassuring," Isaac retorts with a deadpan expression.

"I think what Wash is trying to say is that she, like you, has been too busy to cope with the full spectrum of emotion your survival no doubt brought back. You should talk to her."

"I'd be dead before I made the lobby."

"Not if we came with you." Wash jumps in, "Locus already got a full presidential pardon from Kimball for saving my life."

"It's not gonna be that simple, Wash."

"Isaac," Sam captures his attention, "it's something that needs to happen. We'll be there beside you, no matter what."

The lean mercenary glances between the Freelancers and his partner, shoulders sagging, "Alright. I guess we're making a stop at Chorus."

----------------

"I don't like this idea." Isaac stares down the door and his feet are rooted in place.

"We made it all the way here, you can do this." Carolina lays a hand on his shoulder.

"Does she know I'm coming?"

"No. We thought it best to...surprise her?" Washington offers with a shrug.

"Right, because surprising the leader of a planet who no doubt has a gun nearby is a great plan."

"She's not going to kill you." Sam retorts evenly.

"Easy for you to say, you have the presidential pardon."

Carolina rolls her eyes and opens the door, stepping inside with Sam and Wash close behind.

"Kimball?"

"Agent Carolina, this is a surprise." The president of Chorus stands, offering a warm smile to the three visitors.

"Oh, the surprises don't stop here," Wash scratches the back of his head.

"What does that--?"

She never gets to finish. Sam steps aside and Isaac slowly shuffles inside the room, hands shoved in his pockets, frame tense and eyes bleeding warmth.

"Felix--you--I thought--"

"Hey, Vanessa." He tries a slight smile, eyes drifting across her face.

"You're alive. When Caboose said--I didn't think he was serious."

"Surprise."

The disbelief ebbs away, and Isaac wants nothing more than to shy away from the glare that grips her features.

"Why are you here?"

Isaac remains silent, looking anywhere other than the woman behind the desk. It isn't until Carolina elbows him and nudges him forward that he can find his courage.

"I came to see you."

"Why?" It's sharp, detached.

"Because," a quiet fuck slips out under his breath and he unburies his hands, striding closer with more confidence than he has, "because I've spent too long running from my past. What I did here, what I did to you, was wrong. No amount of apologizing will change that fact. But what I do hope to change is where I go from here."

Kimball eases herself to her feet, meeting the lean mercenary's gaze evenly, "Why?"

"Because you're important to me."

Kimball's expression softens, lips parted in something resembling shock.

"Not a day goes by that I don't think about you and wish that I could go back and change all of it." He leans on the desk, "I wanted to tell you, god, so many times what you meant to me. Every lie, every choice I made was hell because I didn't want to betray you."

"Then why did you?" her voice softens, violet darting across hazel, searching for an answer just out of reach.

"Because fighting in your war was a job. I wasn't supposed to get attached, I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you, but I did. And when it came down to you or the job, I chose the latter because I wasn't ready to sort through all the emotions. By the time I realized it, it was too late."

His voice falters for a moment, "I realize that what I've done is unforgivable, but I'm asking nonetheless because I need to know." His hand slides to rest on top of hers, hazel locking on violet with a desperation Kimball's never seen before.

"I'm sorry, Vanessa. Will you forgive me?"

She hesitates, indecision gripping her frame and Isaac's almost certain she's going to tell him to go to hell. He's surprised when she leans forward, lips brushing against his in a moment he'll cling to for the rest of his life.

It's brief, a whisper of skin and Isaac's not even sure it happened, but when she pulls back, hand sliding out from underneath his and she stands with her hands clasped behind her back, he tenses.

"You're forgiven, Felix. I don't know what you've gone through, what hell you've walked to come to terms with what you are, but it's enough. I can't promise you a home here on Chorus, it's not even safe for Locus. There's too much residual hatred for you two, but I can promise you that your reconciliation with your humanity will be noted and that might, one day, grant you a place here."

She's distant, but he can read the signs. It's a goodbye, a promise and a hope all at once.

"Thank you."

She offers a solemn nod, "Goodbye, Felix."

The corner of his mouth tugs upward, "See you around, Kimball."

He doesn't speak until they're nearly to the landing pad, lost in his own thoughts.

"So, you showed some emotion. Didn't know you could do that," Wash teases, nudging his shoulder with his elbow.

Isaac gives him a light shove, "Ha ha, very funny."

"Cut the man some slack, Wash, he just got rejected." Carolina interjects with a smile.

"I did not! It was more like closure. I'm fine."

"Right, which is why your face is redder than Sarge's armor."

Isaac glowers and drops in behind them, falling in step with Sam. He glances at his partner, "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Now who needs to open up more?"

Sam snorts, "Just thinking about what comes next."

"We go home."

"That simple, huh?"

"Its the logical next step."

"I hope you two aren't planning on leaving without saying goodbye." Carolina glances over her shoulder.

"We wouldn't dream of it."

----------------

"Goodbye, Mr. Felix! Goodbye, Mr. Locus! We will miss you!" Caboose shouts, waving wildly as they board their ship.

Isaac can't help the smile that spreads across his lips and he turns to give Caboose a wave goodbye.

He turns away when the landing ramp closes and climbs into the cockpit beside Sam, "You ready?"

"Always."

Their ship lifts off, roaring into space towards home.

"Should we tell Wu we're coming?" Isaac smirks, already knowing the answer.

"Let's surprise him."

It's not long until they touch down on the landing pad. Every nerve stands on end as Isaac slips his pack over his head and he and Sam descend into the bustling crowd of the spaceport. It's not long until they reach the front porch and Isaac rings the doorbell.

They wait and there's scampering beyond the door before the bolt is released and the door swings open.

"Sam? Isaac?" Mason sets his pistol aside and pulls the door open further. A smile cracks across his lips and he tugs them both into an embrace.

"Hey, Wu. Miss us?" Isaac laughs, returning the embrace.

Sam looks uncomfortable, after all these years, he still isn't capable of handling hugs. So, he awkwardly pats Mason's shoulder and tries to smile.

Mason steps back, "Come inside. Megan! Girls!"

Megan Wu emerges from the living room, freezing in the doorway when her eyes land on the two mercenaries.

"Hey, Meg."

Mason's daughters come tearing down the staircase, Melody skidding just short of her mother and Mikayla nearly collides with her older sister.

"Girls, you remember your Uncles Isaac and Sam?"

They remain where they are and for a moment, Isaac's smile falters. They've no doubt heard about everything that's happened, their fall from grace and the fight with Mason. He almost turns to Mason and offers to leave until Melody steps past her mother, eyes darting between the two men before she gives Sam a hug.

He freezes and his eyes dart to Mason who smirks at the awkward mercenary's position. Slowly, he accepts her embrace while Mikayla darts over to Isaac and practically tackles him to the ground.

Isaac doesn't hesitate, winding his arms around his surrogate niece, "You guys got so big."

"That tends to happen when you're gone for a couple years, Uncle Isaac." Melody returns, stepping back and allowing Mikayla to give Sam a hug.

"You got your dad's wit, I'm so proud." Isaac snorts, giving her a quick embrace.

"They got their mother's smarts, too." Mason steps closer to Megan, who hasn't been able to find the words to speak.

The girls smile almost proudly and squeeze the mercenaries a little tighter.

Sam flinches and looks to Isaac for help. He doesn't know how to handle children and though he tries, he doesn't know how to handle affection either. So, when Mikayla's vice grip loosens, Sam steps back and tries to gather himself.

Melody steps off to the side and all eyes fall to Megan. She hasn't spoken and her grip on Mason's hand has tightened, almost as if she can protect him with the sheer force of her hand around his.

Isaac's the first to speak, "Meg, we owe you, all of you, an apology. The decisions Sam and I made, the fight with Mason, it was wrong--we were wrong. We're sorry."

She nods slowly, releasing her grasp on her husband's hand and venturing closer. Her daughters step back and her gaze flickers between Sam and Isaac.

They wait in silence until a warm smile spreads across her lips, tugging them into a warm embrace.

"Welcome home, boys."

"It's good to be home."

-------------------

Tagging:

RVB Forevers: @mamma-dragon @loveliestoflunchboxes @heaven-hell-imagines

RVB Mercs: @antsyserpentine

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phantomwarrior12 · 6 years

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Realizations (Part 7)

Prompt: Black Soul by Shinedown

Summary: The pain catches up sooner than we think--how we react defines us.

Word Count: 2,108

Warnings: Angst, canon-style swearing, conflicted internal feelings, not a single trace of fluff to even squint at...

A/N: Hey folks!

So, this one is honestly more of a filler chapter than action and flashbacks! BUT check out that quality introspection and Isaac falling apart. The next chapter will pick up where this one leaves off (I’ve already started it, so....I’m hella excited cause there’s gonna be a lot of issues addressed plus a plot twist!).

Also, credit to @epsiloneridani07 and @frequentlydistressed for that casual little name drop of their OC in there.

Leave a like/comment and let me know your thoughts!

Enjoy!

~ Phantom

Saudade Masterlist

Confessions (Part 8)

------------------- You made a mess of your life

And you've been burned once or twice

Now you play roulette with the water gun

------------------

"That can't be right--"

He's scrambling and scanning and scared. It's not possible, there's no plausible explanation.

How the hell did he know?!

It's then he realizes there is, in fact, someone who knows he's still alive--someone he's encountered not long ago, "Wu, goddammit! He said wasn't going to say anything." Isaac frantically checks the long-range scanners for approaching ships.

There's nothing--nothing beyond stardust, asteroids and ghosts of a hellish past. He's alone--again.

The flash in the corner of his panel reminds him of the recording, but it doesn't mean Isaac's heart stops racing, it doesn't mean he's indecisive about opening the message, it certainly doesn't mean that the riptide of emotions tearing through his chest will subside any time soon.

It takes him a moment, but he finds the strength to press trembling fingers against the key, Sam's frame flickers to life on the viewscreen. He looks tired, stressed, hesitant.

It almost takes Isaac back to the war, back to before Sam's betrayal, back when they were brothers.

There's a knot in his throat, a nauseating pit in his stomach, an anxious twitch deep in his ribs--scars from Chorus.

"Felix--I'm not entirely sure how to begin this, but..." Sam rubs the back of his neck, eyes darting to the floor before they find the camera once more, "I know you're alive."

Isaac's breath catches in his throat, eyes darting cautiously towards the long-range scanners every few moments.

"I know you're scared. I know you're--" he sets his jaw for a moment, flexing his fingers, "I know you're scared of me, Felix."

There it is. Out in the open and Sam's eyes bleed regret. "And that's not something I ever wanted. We were--are--partners. Somewhere along the line, I don't know if it was during the war or when we ran jobs with Siris, but somehow we forgot that."

Isaac presses himself against the back of his chair, biting back the retort on the tip of his tongue, the fury-induced tears threatening to spill from the corner of his eyes, the gaping hole in his soul.

"In any case, I want to fix this. I know what happened on Chorus is unforgivable. I'm not asking for forgiveness," Sam sits up a little taller, shoulders tensing slightly, "I'm asking for a chance to talk."

Isaac almost scoffs, fear ebbing away, rage consuming his features, "You can go straight to hell, Ortez!"

Sam can't hear him, but it doesn't stop Isaac from feeling a fraction of a percent better. He's about to shut it off when Sam's voice catches his attention.

"Gates--" it's a broken whisper, hazel orbs shifting from unforgiving metal to meet Isaac's gaze, "I'm sorry. For everything."

The message stops, coming to an abrupt conclusion and Isaac is frozen in place. On the console, a set of coordinates flare a burning crimson, begging him to input them into the navicomputer.

He's hesitant and paranoid. Maybe Sam wants to finish the job. Maybe Wu told him because he knows how much of a monster Isaac's become. Maybe--maybe he means it.

He sets his jaw and transfers the coordinates to the navicomputer. He doesn't activate the engines, doesn't guide the ship into slipspace. Instead, he settles into the pilot's seat and glares at the console.

There are choices he can make, decisions that will determine where he goes from here. The nagging ache in his ribs demand retribution, the quiet memories tucked away in his chest pocket plead for reconciliation.

He's uncertain and he's tired. He's torn and he's angry.

Why is it always so complicated?

His eyes drifted back to the frozen screen, to Sam's mournful look, to the only brother he'd ever known. "It didn't have to be this way, Sam. It never had to be this way. We could have finished the job, left Chorus richer than we ever could have imagined. But you grew a conscience, after years of killing monsters, you grew a fucking sense of morality. And then you left me to die."

His shoulders sag and his chin drops to his chest, "How the hell am I supposed to forgive that?"

The sobs rip through him unexpectedly, shoulders shaking, hands clenched into fists. He's crying and then he's screaming.

He's not sure how long he falls apart, not sure how he ends up in the back of the cockpit, knees hugged to his chest. He's not sure how he's still alive after everything, but he is.

It takes a few minutes, but he gathers his wits enough to stretch out the cramped muscles in his knees. It takes a minute, but he finds the strength to pull the photographs from his pocket, the ones that rest just above his heart.

He unfolds the dated paper gently, brushing a thumb tenderly over his sister's grinning face, a sorrowful, reminiscent smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He presses two fingers to his lips before touching her face in the picture, "Miss you, Liz."

He tucks it behind the other, fresh tears slipping unnoticed down his cheeks. It's a blaring reminder, an aching knife in the back, but his eyes never leave the three brothers.

Why is it always so complicated?

"The hell am I supposed to do now?"

In the back of his mind, he can almost hear Mason's chiding, "You forgive him." He used to say that whenever the two of them would bicker and words went too far. He was always the one holding them together, no wonder they crumbled after Mason left.

If Isaac were feeling more spiteful, he'd blame Wu for the mess he's in, but it's not his fault. They lost sight of things on Chorus, lost sight of their humanity. It was only a matter of time before they lost sight of each other.

There's a light scoff somewhere under his breath as he folds the picture over and tucks both back into his jacket pocket.

"Forgiveness doesn't come easy, Wu." He mumbles, hauling himself to his feet and finds his way back to the pilot's seat, sliding into the dated leather with a heavy sigh.

The panel glares back, coordinates set and begging to be pursued. It's an impulsive decision, but he primes the engines for slip space. His fingers rest uneasily on the gear, flexing and curling around the cold metal beneath anxious skin.

"Fuck it." He slams the gear forward, forcing the engines to fire, launching him into slip space.

It's only after the stars blur together and the autopilot is engaged that Isaac relinquishes his vice grip on the console and settles back into his seat, the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in slipping past his lips.

He casts a glance towards the frozen image of Sam on the comms panel, "See you soon, Sam."

---------------

What the hell was he thinking? He can't be here. Sam's here--he's on this planet camped out in a cantina watching, waiting.

He's going to kill me, he'll--

Isaac stops, steadying the surging adrenaline, calming the anxious nerves, easing the screaming ache in his ribs.

No. He's not gonna hurt me. Not if I kill him first.

He's out of his seat and in the back of cockpit, retrieving weapons and gauging tactical advantages when he catches a glimpse of his armor piled haphazardly in the corner.

He sets the magnum aside, taking the two strides over to the heap of armor plating. His fingers curl around the underside of the helmet, perching himself against the wall, tinted glass bearing into brown.

Behind the visor, buried beneath the guilt and pain, Isaac watches the memories unfold.

He's back in the field, covering Sam's six as he picks off jackals on far ridges. He's storming outposts and patrols with his brothers flanking him. He's sitting around a fire, idly throwing jabs at Mason about wanting to be a civi. He's back in a time where his brothers meant more to him than the job itself.

He was home.

He blinks and reality comes crashing down, the void weighing as heavily on his heart. He's alone and more than anything--he wants to go home.

But there's no home to which he can return. He knows it and it shreds his soul piece by agonizing piece.

It isn't until the autopilot beeps and reminds him that it's he's approaching the atmosphere that Isaac sets the helmet aside and returns to his seat.

It isn't until the landing gears meet cement that Isaac can breathe. He's up and retrieving his weaponry, casting a longing glance at his armor.

The backwater spaceport would be packed, but Spartan armor would draw too much attention--Sam would spot him a mile away. So, he settles for the smuggler attire he's acquired, adjusting the leather jacket around his neck. His fingers graze the chain of his dog tags--hesitation, but only for a moment before he snaps back, sliding his sidearm into its holster.

The adrenaline rockets through his veins as he descends the docking ramp, weaving his way into the sea of outcasts and criminals. His heart pounds so loudly in his ears, he feels as though everyone in the crowded port can hear it.

Brown find the faint, blue screen on his wrist, double checking the location and name of the cantina before he made it too far from his ship.

The only words slipping through his mind are an endless loop of: this is a trap. He can't stop, he won't stop. Sam may be expecting him, but neither one of them knows what will happen once they're face to face.

As he sidesteps and slips past filthy locals, the lump in his throat tightens, the nausea in his stomach screams. He looks up and the sky is a bleeding crimson--if he were superstitious, he'd take it as a sign that their encounter would end in a blood bath.

He doesn't want to think about it--doesn't want to consider the remote chance that Sam will finish what he started on Chorus. He reminds himself that if he takes the preemptive strike, he can--no.

It's Sam. Goddammit. It's Sam.

Isaac stops in his tracks, taking immediate cover behind the closest run-down wall. Everything inside screams for him to run or take the shot with the weapon his fingers instinctively found in its holster--but he can't.

He watches the broken shell of the man he so cautiously named brother all those years ago. He watches him pause at the door of the cantina, storming, grey eyes skimming over faces, no doubt in search of Isaac's.

Isaac's jaw slackens, no longer gritting and grinding teeth together when Sam's shoulders sagged. He looks disappointed, exhaustion evident even from this distance and Isaac has to quell the surging sense of responsibility--the pity for his former partner.

Why is it always so complicated?

He watches the broad mercenary turn and move into the cantina, no doubt in search of a secluded corner table--the man hated socializing.

It takes all the nerve Isaac has to carry himself towards the door, all the strength he has to square his shoulders and step inside. He's met with a buzzing atmosphere, smoke lacing the air, glaring lights from the makeshift dance floor. Of course Sam would choose a public place, one where he could make a quick escape if need be--he knows the extent of Isaac's wrath.

He waits until the next song blares through the speakers before he descends the three steps between him and the bar. He perches himself against the counter, eyes drifting around the room before settling on the bartender.

"Whiskey." He tosses a few bills on the counter, eyes scoping out potential exits. The clinking of the glass against metal is silenced by the sudden drop in base and the screams of drunken dancers. It's all Isaac can do to keep from rolling his eyes.

He downs the drink before his eyes catch a glimpse of Sam hunched over his beer in the corner.

Isaac's expression hardens, jaw setting and shoulders squaring. He waves the bartender off and starts towards the table, hand already wrapped around his magnum, determination flaring the closer he drew.

He's inches away and he swears his heart is going to pound its way out of his chest. He's not sure sure how, but somehow, he jerks the gun free from its holster and all but jams it in Sam's startled face.

Somehow--somehow he finds the composure to deliver the only words he can think of.

"Hey Sam, miss me?"

--------------------

Part 8

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Tagging:

RVB Squad: @mamma-dragon

Saudade Squad: @antsyserpentine @loveliestoflunchboxes

#rvb felix #felix mcscouty #felix #isaac gates #sam ortez #samuel locus ortez #samuel ortez #rvb locus #locus #mason siris wu #mason wu #siris rvb #osiris rvb #red vs blue #rvb #felix series: saudade #phantom writes

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phantomwarrior12 · 6 years

Text

Saudade Masterlist

The long overdue Masterlist for Saudade:

This Isn’t What I Wanted (Part 1)

And Then There Were Two (Part 2)

Family Dinners (Part 2.5)

Dad Always Finds Out (Part 3)

Kill Your Conscience (Part 4)

Exhaustion (Part 5)

Times Change (Part 6)

Realizations (Part 7)

Confessions (Part 8)

Believable (Part 9)

Shenanigans (Part 10)

Finally Home (Part 11) (End)

#Felix #isaac gates #isaac felix gates #felix mcscouty #sam ortez #samuel locus ortez #samuel ortez #Locus #rvb locus #mason siris wu #mason wu #siris rvb #osiris rvb #rvb #red vs blue #rvb mercs #phantom writes #felix series-saudade

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phantomwarrior12 · 6 years

Text

Exhaustion (Part 5)

Word Count: 2,736

Warnings: PTSD, Anxiety, Panic Attack, Depression, Alcoholism, Abandonment Issues, Major Angst, Canon-style swearing, and a touch of fluff at the end

Summary: Sometimes when you’re loneliest, the universe throws you a bone.

A/N: Hey folks!

Man, the further I get into this series, the more warnings I have to use...anyway, here’s the next chapter of Saudade! This one was more of a continuation of last chapter, so there wasn’t really a prompt to fuel it. :)

Feel free to leave a like/comment and let me know your thoughts about the chapter!

Enjoy!

~ Phantom

Saudade Masterlist

Part 6

---------------------

"Mason?" It can't be him.

Another hallucination? Yes. He's just like Sam. He has to be. Isaac's too tired to care at this point, "If you're another hallucination, fuck off. I'm not going to listen to another tirade about why I'm alone." He drops the weapon back to his side and continues over to the aging refrigerator, retrieving a beer from the bottom shelf. When he turns, he expects Mason's figure to be gone, but it's not. It's staring him down, disbelief in its features as it takes in Isaac's exhausted, scruffy appearance. "Gates--" "I said to fucking leave," Isaac mumbles, stumbling towards his bedroom. He's weighed down by all his grief, the baggage of his past, the aching loneliness in his chest. "Gates, I'm real." Mason's voice is tentative, metal appendage clanking against wood as he dares a step closer to the disheveled mercenary. He's frozen in place, feet rooted to the ground as his tired mind processes his words. He turns slowly, "You can't be real." "Why not?" Mason asks, venturing closer, eyes drifting between the utterly confused expression etched into Isaac's face and the magnum in his hand. "Because after what happened the last time we talked, you wouldn't be stupid enough to track me down." Isaac murmurs, brown eyes distant as he drinks another portion of his beer. "You said it yourself. We're family, and family sti--" "Sticks together? Was that what you were doing when you dropped Sam and I?" There's a trace of disbelieving sarcasm in his tone as he turns back towards the bedroom. He's tired and he doesn't care. He's going to bed to sleep for the next month. Hallucinations and emotional baggage be damned, he just wants to sleep. He's made enough on this job to relax--that is, until he realizes he never raided the vault before he left. He'd been in a daze of shock, finally coming to terms with his subconscious, so much so, that he forgot to collect his money. "Fuck!" The beer bottle shatters against the far wall. "Goddammit! Why can't anything ever go right?!" He's pacing and swearing and Mason's concerned, "You all right?" He stops, whirling to look at Mason, "Do I look okay, Wu? And why the fuck are you even still here? I get it! I'm the reason everyone abandons me, and I'll always be alone. Now, could you please just fuck off already?!" Mason's reeling, the expression etched into his features resembles nothing short of disbelief, "Gates--you can't believe that." "Don't tell me what I can and can't believe, Wu! I couldn't believe that one partner would bail on us and the other would betray me and leave me for dead on Chorus! I can't believe a lot of things, but apparently that doesn't stop fate or whatever godforsaken entity up there from completely fucking up my life!" By the end of his tirade, his skin is a bright red tint, his breath coming in pants and his voice cracks. His tears have drained his strength and his voice is on the verge of disappearing. "So, yeah, I can't believe a lot of stuff, but that doesn't make it any less true." He sighs, hazel eyes dropping to the floor, "so, just leave me alone." He shuffles over to the nearest chair and the pistol clatters onto the wooden table as he sinks into the furniture. He's tired, he's defeated and he's two steps away from giving up. Mason cautiously steps closer, noting the gentle trembling in Isaac's shoulders as the silent tears drip from his jaw. He's close enough to lay a comforting hand on Isaac's shoulder, jerking the lean mercenary's attention upwards. He's staring back at him, confusion consuming every inch of his features. Mason squeezes his shoulder a little tighter when he notices the exhaustion in Isaac's frame, the unnatural paleness to his skin, and the evident malnutrition. "Gates--what happened to you?" It's barely above a whisper. Mason searches, hopes to find the once roaring fire in his eyes, but finds nothing but extinguished embers. Isaac doesn't answer. He can't answer. He has no voice, no will to speak. His eyes drop to floor in shame, shaking his head. Mason's frozen for a split second before he kneels down beside Isaac. He doesn't say anything, he can't find the words, but the next thing Isaac knows, he's on his knees with Mason's arms encircling his shoulders. He's trembling, his breaths coming in quiet gasps, eyes wide. It takes a moment to realize what happened, to process the fact that Mason has dragged him out of his seat and into a protective embrace. It's been so long, what felt like a lifetime, since someone had dared to hold him close, to assure him that the world around him wasn't crumbling. He sags against Mason's shoulder, exhaustion emerging victorious in the riptide of emotions drowning him. His tears subside as he drifts closer to sleep; he faintly registers Mason helping him to his feet and guiding him to his bedroom. He vaguely detects the cool haven beneath his head as he rolls onto his side and settles in. Mason drapes a blanket across his thin frame and steps back, "What happened to you, Isaac? What could have possibly broke you this badly?" It's the last words Isaac hears as he slips into a restful sleep, one that he's been denied for months, and while he dreams of better times, Mason keeps watch from a worn recliner in the corner. Just like old times. ------------------- "So, you're not a hallucination, huh?" Isaac scrubs once more at the drowsy haze over his eyes. "I'm real." Mason assures him, propping himself against the doorway. Isaac can't read him, not with how tired he still is--although, the previous evening had been the most restful sleep he's had in months. "How'd you find me?" "That's your first question?" "Seemed fitting at the time," Isaac shrugs, slowly swinging his feet over the edge of the dated mattress. It takes him a moment to regain his bearings, his head drowning in a wave of sleep deprivation and throbbing headaches. Mason moves to retrieve the water bottle sitting on the table, "This is a safe house, remember? Our security systems are still intact," he tosses the bottle to Isaac who somehow finds the coordination to catch the plastic bottle, "you tripped one of them a week ago." It takes him a moment before realization hits him like a Covenant cruiser to the face, "Shit!" He's on his feet in an instant, stumbling forward a few steps until Mason intervenes and catches the lean mercenary before he falls headfirst into the wood boards. "What's wrong?!" He's panicking and desperate to escape, he's fighting the supporting arms around his torso until Mason relinquishes his hold and steps back. His knees hit the floor with enough impact to leave bruising and he's struggling to stand. Mason offers a hand, but Isaac slaps it away, insistent on moving on his own. "Gates, what the hell is--" "I gotta get out of here." He's not strong enough to reach a standing position. Mason's expression contorts into a look vaguely resembling frustration and fury. He steps in front of Isaac and pulls the unwilling mercenary to his feet, giving his shoulders a firm jerk to settle him, "Gates! Pull yourself together!" There's terror in Isaac's eyes as they finally settle onto Mason's glower, "Wu--Wu, I need to get out of here. Sam--he'll--" "Slow down! What about Sam?" "He'll kill me!" He all but screams it in Mason's face, struggling to pull away. Mason tightens his grip with one hand and slaps Isaac with the other, "You need to collect yourself! I can't help you if you're hysterical!" The impact seems to have allowed Isaac to regain his composure for the terror in his eyes fades to resignation as his chin drops to his chest, "I'm sorry." He's whispering and if Mason didn't know any better, he might even say the trembling beneath his hand was fear rather than dehydration. "It's all right. I just need you to take a breath and tell me what's going on." His grip lessens as he guides Isaac to the worn couch and eases him onto the borderline non-existent cushions. He retrieves the water bottle from the other room and opens it, placing it in Isaac's shaking hands. "Where do I start?" "What happened after I escaped?" Mason takes a seat on the end table across from Isaac, who cautiously took a sip from the bottle. "We fought the Freelancers--we didn't win. They dropped The Tartarus on us." The statement itself stirs a variety of questions in Mason's mind, all of which relate to explaining how two individuals had managed to drop an entire cruiser on them and how the actual hell they had survived. "We crawled out of the wreckage," Isaac's eyes are locked on the floor in front of him, his features slowly contorting into silent fury, "Sam was hurt--badly. We made it back to the Communications Temple and I fought those rainbow idiots by myself." His fingers tighten around the water bottle, liquid overflowing onto the floorboards, "I was surrounded, and Sam--he..." He cut himself short, unnoticed tears pricking the corners of his eyes, voice faltering as fingers relax around plastic, "He betrayed me, Wu. He left me for dead without any remorse." His eyes met Mason's with a mixture of agony and rage, "he fucking stood there and let them blow me off a fucking cliff!" The water bottle is soaring through the air until it collides with drywall and splatters on the floor. "How could he do that to me?! First you, and now--dammit!" He's up for a split second before exhausted muscles cave and he's back on dated leather. Sam had always been loyal, quite possibly the most loyal of them all. He was hell-bent on keeping them together as a team, but this--this was unlike him. "What did he say?" He manages at last, grey orbs searching sullen features. "He said he wasn't a soldier. He said he was a monster, like me." Isaac finishes quietly, shoulders sagging as his eyes drop to the floor. "Do you think he made it off Chorus?" Mason quieries quietly. "Hell if I know," Isaac retorts, finding his footing on trembling limbs, "as far as I'm concerned, that bastard can rot in hell." "You don't mean that," Mason returns, pushing himself to a standing position. "Were you even listening to a word I said? He stabbed me in the back and it nearly cost me my life, Wu! So, yeah, of course I meant it." He's guiding himself to the kitchen until he found the strength to jerk the refrigerator door open and snatch a bottle of beer from the shelves, "there are some things you just can't forgive." "Does Sam know you're alive?" It's the inevitable question. "No! At least, I don't think so," Isaac returns, gaze drifting from the retired mercenary to the bottle in his hands, "and he's not going to know." "Gates--" "He left me for dead the first time, Wu. What do you think he'll do if he finds out I'm still kicking? I'm already a dead man walking as it is, so let's not push my ever-diminishing luck." Isaac retorts, shuffling to the stool by the counter and hoisting himself into the seat. He'll never admit it, but he's terrified. Sam's betrayal was reenactment of his worst nightmare, a reality he prayed would never come to pass. He's on his own once again, for the first time in over two decades, he's on his own and he's not sure what to do. His eyes find Mason's across the room, hazel bearing into grey, "You're sure he's not going to come through that door at any moment?" His head jerks towards the door frame, fingers trembling around the beer cap anxiously. "No, as far as I know, he's underground." Isaac scoffs, "He's been off the grid since Chorus. There's nothing new about that," the cap pops off and Isaac manages to take a sip, "I've been trying to track him down for months." "Why are you looking for him? I thought you wanted to stay as far away from him as possible." Isaac hesistates, choosing his words carefully, "Reasons." Mason recognizes the glint in Isaac's eyes, the murderous intent buried beneath agony and regret, "You're going to try and kill him, aren't you?" "There won't be any trying involved. I'm going to kill him." Isaac retorts, downing a portion of his beer, "and so what if I am? That son of a bitch betrayed me; he has it coming!" "Gates--" "Wu, I swear to God, if you tell me I can't do that, I'm going to shoot you right here and now." "With what gun?" Mason challenges, crossing his arms. "This--" Isaac reaches for the holster beneath the counter edge, only to find it empty. Mason arches an eyebrow, "Yeah, I figured that would be the one you'd go for." He uncrosses his arms and begins to move towards Isaac, one stride after another, "while you were asleep, I took the liberty of doing my own recon. There were still weapons where we left them, and I found your additional staches." He stops short of a dumbstruck Isaac, "If you wanted to protect yourself from Sam, you certainly did a poor job of hiding your arsenal." "I wasn't expecting guests," Isaac mumbles a weak defense, setting the bottle to the side, "so, now what, Wu? You gonna kill me? Do Sam a favor?" "No. I know you find it hard to believe, Gates, but I'm not taking sides in your little squabble." Mason meets Isaac's gaze evenly, "I'm not doing either one of you a favor. As far as I'm concerned, you were never here and Sam? Sam isn't going to catch wind of this." "Why not?" Its a bitter retort, accompanied closely by a seething scowl. "Because you're both family and I won't betray either one of you." Mason returns, "We've lost enough already. I'm not ready to lose you, too." "You may not have a choice, Wu." Isaac's stubborn, always has been--it's quite possibly the only thing keeping him alive: spite. "There's always a choice," Mason lays a photograph on the counter beside Isaac. "Even in war?" "Especially in war," it's a warm smile, one Isaac remembers from their early years of the war, "not everyone makes it home, Gates. You have to hang on to the family that did," he motions to the photo, "not push them away." Isaac redirects his gaze to the image, eyes widening slightly at the young faces of the mercenary trio staring back at him. His gaze snaps back to Mason's features, "Wu--" Mason holds up a hand to silence him, "You may hate Sam now, hell, you may hate me, but that doesn't change the fact that you're my brother, Isaac. Family sticks together and I'm not ready to give up hope that you'll remember that some day." His hand reaches over and gives his friend's shoulder a gentle squeeze, "I don't hate you, Gates. You're not alone, you have a family--you just need to find your way back to us. You and Sam." Mason turns, moving towards the door, pausing just shy of the threshold, "The girls miss seeing their Uncle Isaac, by the way." Isaac scoffs lightly, "They remember us?" A smile tugs at the corner of Mason's lips, "They remember everything." His hand tightens around the doorknob, "and Isaac?" "Yeah?" Isaac's eyes never leave the photograph in front of him. "I don't blame you for what happened on Chorus between us--and you're not the reason you're all alone. You have a family right here and we'll right here waiting for you." The door shuts with a soft click behind him and Isaac's left perched on stool willing himself to pick up the photo. His fingers brush against the three figures in the photo, memories flashing and fading. It's a small smile, a tender tug of the lips laced with nostalgia. Perhaps Mason is right. Perhaps Isaac is wrong. Perhaps he truly does have a family. Maybe, just maybe, he isn't alone after all.

----------------------

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@mamma-dragon

Part 6

#felix #isaac felix gates #felix mcscouty #isaac gates #rvb #Red vs Blue #mason wu #mason siris wu #osiris rvb #siris rvb #sam ortez #rvb locus #samuel locus ortez #red vs blue locus #locus #felix rvb #phantom writes #Felix series-saudade

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phantomwarrior12 · 6 years

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Family Dinners

@rvbficwars

This one is for the RVB Fluff Week! This lovely prompt came from @the-original-bad-boy, thank you so much for the Mercs Prompt, you gave me the opportunity to write a story that was referenced in an angst war prompt. :) Prompt: Mercs for Fluff week!! Siris invites Issac and Sam home to meet his other family! (Extra fluff Mason introduces them as Uncle Sam and Isaac and Megan calls them Mason's Brothers.)

Warnings: None, all fluff again ^.^

Summary: Sam and Isaac are invited to the Wu’s house for dinner, questions are asked, and Sam shows a side he rarely acknowledges.

Word Count: 1,264

Enjoy!

Saudade Masterlist

Part 3

-------------------

"No."

"Sam, come on! It'll be fun!"

"Felix, I said no!"

Isaac glared at Sam as the broad mercenary took a seat on the worm couch, beginning to disassemble his sniper rifle for cleaning.

"Sam. We haven't met Mason's kids yet and we haven't seen Megan in literal years," he stood in front of his partner. "All I'm saying is that it would mean a lot to Wu if we both showed up."

Sam heaved a sigh, the kind that Isaac knew meant he'd given up. "What time?"

"He said some time around six. He also said Megan will be thrilled to see us again." Isaac grinned triumphantly, sagging comfortably into the arm chair across from Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Just don’t embarrass yourself, Felix."

"Me? Never." Isaac drew his knife from his boot, carefully admiring the edges as they began their two hour wait before departure.

----------------------

"Sam! Isaac! I'm so glad you could join us!" Mason's broad smile lit up the moment he opened the door, ushering his partners into the threshold and towards the dining room.

"Megan! Sam and Isaac are here!" He called before turning to face them. "Make yourselves at home, I'll go get the kids."

As Mason scurried off to retrieve his children, an unnatural spring in his step, the duo's attention sass redirected to the doorway where Megan Wu had just appeared.

She smiled warmly, stepping closer to engulf each mercenary in a firm embrace, "Welcome home, boys."

Home. It's such a foreign word, a concept he wasn't sure he'd ever understand. He'd never known anything resembling home in the past--so this is what it feels like.

Megan stepped back, drawing Isaac from his thoughts, smoothing wayward strands of hair back, "Mason's been so excited for you two to visit, it's all he's talked about for the last couple months."

"Well, we're glad we're able to visit." Isaac returned with his usual charismatic grin.

Sam merely nodded, cautious eyes flickering around the room until the thundering footsteps redirected his attention to the approaching children.

Mason's oldest daughter Melody exploded into the dining room, coming to a screeching halt as her emerald eyes fell on the tall, broad mercenary standin awkwardly near the doorway. Her younger sister, Mikayla nearly collided with her sister's back, thoroughly prepared to start yelling until, she too, saw Sam watching them anxiously.

Megan smiled, stepping beside her daughters and kneeling down, "Girls, this is your Uncle Sam and your Uncle Isaac. They're your daddy's brothers."

"B-but they don't look like Daddy." Melody pointed out.

"No, but they're the closest thing I have to brothers." Mason assured them, hoisting the girls up into their seats before tickling their sides with a smile, "they're family too, Mel."

"Can Uncle Sam sit by me?" Melody asked with a shy smile, emerald gaze flickering between her parents and the dumbstruck mercenary.

"If he wants to--" Megan looked to Sam for confirmation.

He merely offered a quiet nod, caution etched into his features.

Melody's questioning stare morphed into a thrilled smile as she climbed out of her chair, her three-year-old fingers wrapping around Sam's large, scarred hand and dragged him over to the seat beside her.

"I-Isaac--" Mikayla cooed, two-year-old hands waving desperately towards Isaac. "I think Miki wants you to sit by her." Megan laughed quietly, watching the slim mercenary stare blankly at the child for a moment.

"Guess so," Isaac took his seat, the little girl's fingers already pulling at his arm to play with his hand. He hesitated, but reluctantly surrendered his hand to the child while Megan retrieved the food from the kitchen. ---------------------- The group made it most of the way through the meal, Mikayla having relinquished her grip on Isaac's hand twenty minutes ago in favor of consuming as much food as she could. For the duration of the meal, Sam had remained silent, gaze drifting from Mason, back to his food and, on a rare occasion, to the wide eyes sitting beside him, staring at him in wonder.

Isaac smirked to himself, thoroughly amused by the little girl's newfound obsession with Sam, an obsession that only made the guarded mercenary nervous and uncomfortable. As for Isaac, his gaze mostly switched between Mason and his wife, as the two exchanged comments, most of which were directed at either mercenary.

This carried on until Melody interrupted the adult's conversation with a bold question directed at a very stoic Sam, "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"Melody!" Megan chided, disapproval etched into her features as she scolded the girl, "we don't ask guests--"

"It's all right." Sam lifted his hand slowly, gathering his wits before he glanced to Mason for his approval.

Mason merely nodded, mildly displeased that his oldest would bring such a topic up at dinner, but, as a mercenary himself, he couldn't help but be anything but surprised.

Sam met the girl's curious gaze, offering a single word of confirmation, "Yes." Her eyes widened, a broad grin spreading across her face as all attention to food was abandoned in favor of drilling the war-torn soldier beside her. She shifted in her chair, fully facing Sam, "How many?"

"A lot." Sam looked back at his food, slowly continuing to eat.

"Do you have a family?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because of the War." Sam kept a stoic expression, but Isaac could see the agony bleeding from his eyes as he kept them trained on the plate before him.

"Do you miss them?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any friends?"

Mason jumped in, "Melody, sweetheart, that's why he and Isaac are here. They're close friends of mine. They're family."

"But--”

"Family doesn't end with blood." Sam supplied, glancing at the girl, "your father and Isaac are the brothers I never truly had. They're family now."

Melody seemed to mull this over for a moment before opening her mouth to speak, only for her mother to jump in, "That's enough, Mel. Let the man eat."

Melody nodded, turning back to her plate, "Yes, ma'am."

------------------ Dinner had come to an uneventful close, allowing the group to relocate to the family room. Mason had taken up a spot on the couch with Megan sitting close by, the girls playing with toys on the floor in the middle of the room. Isaac and Sam had chosen individual arm chairs across from the Wu's, Isaac chattering endlessly with the couple while Sam silently watched the children.

"So, Mace mentioned that you're pregnant again, huh?" Isaac asked, swirling the beer bottle's contents with a smile.

"Yep, kid number three is on the way...soon we'll be outnumbered." Melody laid a hand on Mason's forearm.

Mason smirked, "Don't worry, we'll manage, Meg."

Isaac chuckled, "Pretty soon you'll need a babysitter with how many kids'll be running around this place."

"We'll probably need to find a bigger place for that very reason." Megan smiled warmly, hand drifting to rest on her stomach.

The adults' attention was drawn to Sam as Melody scampered across the floor, climbing into the mercenary's lap. He looked at her questioningly, only to have her point to his hair, silently asking permission to play with it.

He picked her up, standing and setting the girl on the seat behind him before taking a seat on the floor, pulling the ponytail out. Melody giggled, fingers already tangling in his long hair, separating it for the braid.

Sam shot a pointed glare at Isaac, "If you ever mention this to anyone--" Isaac laughed, "Not to worry, Sam, this one will be our family secret."

----------------------------

Part 3

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phantomwarrior12 · 7 years

Text

And Then There Were Two

This one is for the RVB Angst War ( @rvbficwars ). I was prompted by the lovely @alphachurchiisms, thank you so much for this prompt! I enjoyed writing it! (Also, thank you for helping me figure out my ask box, I was noobing bad. XD) The prompt was: How did the mercenary trio break up? Put your own spin on it.

Summary: “He has a family, Felix. Let him go.” Isaac survives the fall from the Communication’s Tower and recalls their final mission with Mason.

The untold tale of the termination of the mercenary trio.

Warnings: Canon-style of swearing. Angst, cause that’s kinda the point.

Story will also be posted on AO3 under PhantomWarrior99.

Enjoy!

Saudade Masterlist

Part 2.5

---------------------------

It's a time he never wanted to remember, a time when everything was simpler, when he had a family, or, something resembling a family.

He could see the memories whenever he closed his eyes. Late night recon missions, witty exchanges over bottles of beer, even dinner with Mason and his family. A soft smile spread across Isaac's lips, quietly remembering Sam's first encounter with Mason's oldest daughter, Melody.

She couldn't have been more than three, an energetic, curious child who shared Mason's midnight black hair and her mother's emerald eyes. She'd wandered up to Sam, hoisting herself into his lap. Isaac would envision the look of discomfort on Sam's face, eyes widened in surprise, expression reduced to complete and utter confusion as the girl began the braid his hair.

He could remember Megan Wu's quiet chiding of the child and Mason's outburst of laughter. Sam had simply remained motionless, too stunned to react and unwilling to disrupt the child's efforts.

"Can I get you anything else?"

The sudden reappearance of the bartender thrust him from his thoughts. He slowly glanced up from his third bottle of beer, drained blue eyes dragging themselves away from the deep brown bottle to the concerned gaze above him.

He shook his head, struggling for balance as he fumbled for his wallet in his back pocket. His fingers clumsily slipping the bills out of the leather folds, lazily tossing them onto the bar, before snatching his drink up and heading towards the door.

"Uh, sir? You forgot your change--"

Isaac waved his hand dismissively over his shoulder as he stumbled out of the bar and started the short trek back to the abandoned apartment.

He was tired, so very tired of it all. The fighting, the nightmares, the bitter reminders that his best friend, the man he'd so cautiously named his brother, had betrayed him. Chorus had been a hell all its own, an agonizing reminder of the war he'd thought they'd left behind.

They. No, he was alone. Again. It wasn't they. It was him. It would always be him.

First, Mason had left. He could still hear Sam defending him, "Damn it, Felix, he has a family-"

"--and what about us? We're not good enough for him? We're not his family?"

"I don't expect you to understand. Just--let him go. His duty is to his wife and children."

He'd been wrong, of course. Mason had a responsibility. It wasn't just to Megan and his kids, it was to him and Sam too. Hadn't they been a family all their own before Mason met his wife?

First Mason, now Sam. Now--now he was all alone. Hell, hadn't been the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

He stumbled his way up the stairs, discarding the now-empty beer bottle into the lobby. He crashed through the aged door, shuffling along until he'd collapsed onto the worn mattress, until his heavy head met firm cushion, until his eyes drooped shut, begging sleep to overtake him.

Until his mind sent him back to that fateful day. Their final mission.

----------------

"Can we please just shoot him?"

"We don't get paid if he's dead, Felix." Sam returned shortly.

Isaac sagged against his seat, arms folded across his chest, irritation etched into his features.

"We're almost there anyway. It would be a waste of ammo at this point." Mason remarked, eyes drifting from the slim mercenary in the passenger seat back to the road.

"It'd be more satisfying." Isaac grumbled, scowling ahead.

"You're only saying that because he mocked you." Mason returned, a hint of humor gracing his tone as he turned into the police station.

"Unless you have a better idea to cover equipment costs, I suggest you keep your weapon pointed away from him." Sam supplied, climbing out of the car to retrieve their captive.

Isaac waved his hands sarcastically, mimicking his partner's comment with an eye roll. Mason smirked slightly, nudging his shoulder before climbing out of the car to assist Sam.

The process had been surprisingly quick. Their captive, a man convicted of multiple homicides, had been worth a large amount of money. It wasn’t until they reached the docking bay that the silence was broken.

"So, last mission was a unanimous success, huh?" Mason slung the massive duffle bag over his shoulder, avoiding their eyes, looking anywhere but his partners.

Sam nodded his silent agreement, checking the equipment in his bag, ensuring the weaponry was secured for travel.

"We'll find another one soon enough." Isaac returned, oblivious to Mason's hesitance, "I caught wind of a company looking for some mercs--something about a planet and alien technology--"

Mason slammed the trunk shut, catching the slim mercenary's attention, "You all right, Wu?"

His fingers tightened around the strap slung across his shoulder, eyes darting to Sam for help. The solemn expression etched into Sam's features mixed with a quiet nod provided little assurance, yet communicated just enough to urge him to speak. He redirected his gaze back to Isaac, "There's not going to be another job, Gates."

Isaac arched an eyebrow, arching an eyebrow, leaning against the door of the car, arms crossed expectantly across his chest, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm retiring. Megan's got another kid on the way, and--she needs me." Mason returned quietly, grey eyes darting to the cold cement beneath him.

Isaac's eyes darted to Sam, who met his gaze coolly, all emotion drained from his eyes, nothing more than a solemn stare. "You knew about this?"

"We've discussed it." Sam returned evenly, voice unflinching.

Isaac stiffened, surprise quickly replaced with rage, "And you didn't tell me. We're partners. We. Fucking. Communicate."

"Gates--Isaac, we didn't want to--" Mason began.

Isaac cut him off, "What the hell, Wu? How long ago was this decided?" His gaze flickered between his partners, his brothers, the only family he'd known in years.

Mason scratched the back of his head, eyes diverted to the cement, "A couple months--"

"A couple of months...that's fucking fantastic!" He paced away a few feet, turning suddenly to shatter the car window with a fury-induced blow, "Dammit!" He spun back to the face the two mercenaries, dismissing the dull throbbing in his hand, "We're partners. I don't care if it's minuscule details, we communicate! You're the one who taught us that, Wu, you said that partners communicate and what did you do? Oh, wait," Isaac allowed a callous laugh, cold, echoing in the quiet parking lot, "you communicated. You told Ortez over there, but not me. What? You don't trust me?"

"Gates--" Mason managed one word before Sam jumped in, thoroughly fed up. He stepped past Mason, hands gripping the v-neck of Isaacs dress shirt, tugging him close, "We didn't tell you because we knew this is how you would react. You're selfish. You're stubborn. We needed you to be willing to do your job, if you had known, you would have fought us the entire mission. We would have never caught that murderer because you wouldn't have wanted to let Siris go."

He shoved the stunned mercenary away, his back meeting the car after a few short, stumbling steps. "It was information that was on a need-to-know basis, and you didn't need to know until now." Sam's voice dropped, a sharp echo in the night.

Isaac started to respond, "I wouldn't have--"

"Wouldn't have what? Wouldn't have pushed Siris to stay? Wouldn't have altered the events of this mission? Wouldn't have fought this?"

Isaac fell silent, eyes directed to the ground, unwilling to meet either man's gaze. Sam watched him sternly for a moment before turning to face Mason.

"Take the ship. Felix and I will find another means of transport." His voice was cold, if Mason didn't know any better, he'd dare suggest tired or resigned.

"You sure?" Mason's question sounded almost tentative, gaze flickering past Sam to Isaac's defeated form.

Sam gave a quiet nod of confirmation, "Go." He held out his hand, giving Mason's hand a solitary shake, a wordless goodbye.

Mason cast one final glance towards Isaac, managing a quiet phrase, "See you around, Gates."

He was met with only silence and a cold shoulder.

Isaac sunk to the ground, glaring at the cement silently as he listened to the retreating boots on pavement. He sat in silence as Sam turned to face him, snatching his bag from the backseat and tossing it to the lean mercenary on the ground.

"Grab your gear. We're leaving." Sam commented shortly, lugging his own bag onto his shoulders by the strap.

Isaac remained motionless, stiff as he fumbled with the strap of his back, silent fury burning in his chest.

"Felix." Sam's tone was sharp, unrelenting, stern. "Get up."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, jaw set as he lifted himself off the ground, slinging the bag across his shoulders, gaze focused on their old ship lifting off and shooting skyward.

"Let's go." Sam started towards another platform, expecting Isaac to follow. Isaac started after him, allowing a few feet of space between them. He waited until they'd secured another ship, until they'd loaded their gear inside, until Sam seated himself in the pilot's seat, until they were roaring out of the space port before he spoke.

"Don't ever do that again."

Isaac's sharp remark caught Sam's attention, he noted the quiet, yet aggravated tone. He arched a questioning eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

"Don't ever hold information back. Next time it could get us killed. Next time--if you ever do it again, I'm out. You'll be on your own."

Sam stole a glance at his partner, the tension in his jaw, the solemn expression he knew was masking his rage, the way he stared straight ahead with a fury-laced glint in his eye.

Sam waited a moment before he spoke, "Understood."

"He shouldn't have left." Isaac murmured, picking up the data pad, pulling up information about Charon Industries.

"Damn it, Felix, he has a family-"

"--and what about us? We're not good enough for him? We're not his family?"

"I don't expect you to understand. Just--let him go. His duty is to his wife and children." Sam settled back into his seat, hands carefully maneuvering the ship into slip space.

Isaac dared a glimpse of his partner, detecting the pain in his partner's eyes, the pain he no doubt took painstaking precautions to hide. He could never hide the emotion in his eyes, every other part of his body could be relaxed, but his eyes bled sheer agony.

After all their time together, Isaac could read him like a book, or, at least he thought he could.

After a long moment, Isaac turned back to his data pad, skimming over the information and gauging the profit.

He brushed aside the knot in his chest, the aching regret and forced his voice to its usual sarcastic, nonchalant tone before he spoke.

"So, how do you feel about genocide?"

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Part 2.5

#isaac felix gates #felix mcscouty #felix #rvb felix #samuel 'locus' ortez #rvb locus #mason wu #mason siris wu #rvb #Red vs blue #rvb angst war #my fanfic #sam ortez #samuel locus ortez #samuel ortez #siris rvb #osiris rvb #phantom writes #felix series-saudade

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phantomwarrior12 · 6 years

Text

Bubbles and Murder

Warnings: Canon-style swearing (I think there’s 1 word...) and a not so graphic fight scene

Words: 935

Prompt: Felix has a habit of chewing gum + blowing bubbles during stealth missions, Locus starts getting annoyed.

A/N: Hey folks,

So this one was written in response to an anonymous prompt, and I gotta admit, because it wasn’t angst, I had a little trouble finding the right way to proceed. XD (Seriously, I need to work on writing non-angst, cause I like to torment characters too much.)

Leave a comment/like and let me know your thoughts!

Enjoy!

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He's going to murder him. If he has to listen to one more snap, one more pop, one much obnoxious smack of the gums, he's going to lose it.

Sam slowly turns away from the scope of his sniper rifle, tension surging through his shoulders as grey met hazel, "Must you do that?"

"Do what?" Isaac smirks, prepping the mint flavored chicle for another bubble.

"That," He gestures to the expanding bubble around Isaac's lips, disgust lacing his tone.

Isaac shrugs passively, continuing to chew his gum, "It's gum, Locus. It's not going kill me, or you for that matter."

"It's distracting." Sam returns shortly, brows furrowing in annoyance.

"Would you rather I talked?" Isaac returns smugly, mischief glinting in his eyes.

"I'd rather you kept your mouth shut and let me focus on recon." Sam turns back to the scope of his rifle, gaze drifting over the warehouse across the street.

"Wow. Samuel Ortez--a trained sharpshooter, master of stealth and precision--is distracted by mere lip smacking." Isaac chuckles quietly, an amused expression etched into his features. His eyes never leave Sam's stiffened form, reading the tell-tale signs of disgust and annoyance as satisfaction tugs at the corner of his lips.

"Open your mouth again for anything other than reporting intel and you're the one who's going to get smacked." Sam retorts, shifting his weight from one knee to the other in his crouched position. His gaze flickers to the slim mercenary for a split second, long enough to shoot him a disapproving scowl, "And use code names, Felix."

"Focus, you two. We don't have time for this." Mason's voice crackles across the comms.

"Siris, this would go so much faster if Locus could function with background noise." Isaac huffs, noting the surge of tension in Sam's shoulders.

"I am not going to argue with you about something so trivial. Stop blowing bubbles, and Locus, just get the damn surveillance and ignore his antics." Mason sounds tired, no doubt pinching the bridge of his nose from his chair in the van.

Sam heaves a sigh, "Copy that."

"Felix, double check your perimeter. Lozano's patrols should be circling back soon. You two need to get out of there before that happens."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. We hear you, Mom." Isaac waves his hand dismissively, moving towards the staircase they had used to reach the roof.

He froze just mere feet from the door, straining his ears to listen. The faded echo of footsteps carried up the metal staircase, "Locus, we're about to have company!" He moves alongside the door, pistol drawn and ready for the patrols to barge in.

Sam's already spun around, slipping his sniper rifle across his back and snatching his sidearm from it's holster.

"Get the hell out of there!"

"Our only exit is cut off," Isaac shoots back, tightening his grip on his weapon.

"I'm on my way!"

"Understood. Park in the back alley. We'll meet you there!" Sam barks over the comms as the stairway door breaks open, allowing their targets to flood the roof.

Isaac waits until one squadron clears the doorframe before he kicks the door shut and opens fire, dropping two henchmen from behind while Sam disposes of the last three. He takes up a position beside Sam as the door is blown, reducing the metal to marred remains before twelve men emerge.

"Huh, twelve on two. Sounds like fair odds, eh, Locus?" Isaac snaps another bubble boredly, eliciting a sigh and eye roll from his partner.

"Shut up and fight."

"Sensitive," Isaac returns with a smirk, waiting for their adversaries to make their move.

"Hands in the air!"

Now it's Isaac's turn to roll his eyes, "Seriously? That is the best you've got? No insults? No snide remarks about messing with the wrong crime lord? No creativity? Man, what a let down. I was looking forward to a challenge today."

Sam heaves a sigh of exasperation, catching their adversaries off-guard, allowing the duo to shoot all but two of their targets. They manage to make it to the door before Mason appears in the doorway and unloads a round into each thug's head.

Isaac straightens with a smirk, pistol spinning on his finger before he blew the non-existent smoke away from the barrel, "Nice shot."

Mason rolls his eyes, while Sam stood from his crouched position and holstered his pistol. "This was a waste of resources."

"What are you talking about, Locus? We got our intel!" Isaac scoffs, holstering his sidearm casually.

"Lozano will find out what happened here, which means security will be increased." Sam returns, "our intel is now obsolete."

"He's right. This means we need to move our timetable up. We don't have time to waste any more. We know where Gabriel Lozano is, so let's get him and get out of here." Mason supplies, nodding towards the night club down the street.

Isaac smirks as he pushed brown back away from his eyes, "Let's go catch ourselves a son of a crime lord!"

If Sam had a dime for every time Isaac said something harsh with a nonchalant tone, he'd never need to work another job in his life. He shoots a tired glare towards Isaac before holstering his sidearm and heading towards the staircase, "We need to change first."

"Suits?" Isaac's tone was laced with dread as he watched the retreating form of his partner.

"Suits."

Isaac's shoulders sagged and his chin dropped to his chest with a heavy sigh of defeat, "Fine."

Sam paused by the door, turning to look at the slender mercenary, "And Felix?"

"What?"

"Lose the gum."

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#felix #isaac felix gates #felix mcscouty #rvb felix #isaac gates #sam ortez #samuel ortez #samuel 'locus' ortez #rvb locus #mason wu #mason siris wu #rvb siris #osiris #red vs blue #rvb #rvb mercs #phantom writes

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