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gottawriteanegoortwo · 6 months

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A Letter From Yancy

Another year on from the events of Heist and meeting you for the first time, Yancy wants to mark it. Easier said than done when you are in a spaceship millions of miles away.

But, strange things have happened on this ship.

Word count: 1,643

It was a quiet day on the Invincible, a rare relief for you. After your morning duties, you found you had free time to do things that you wanted to do.

That, of course, started with a nap.

The nap was exactly what you needed after a busy week, and you felt rejuvenated to properly check in on various teams on the ship. You kept a professional air, but everyone seemed to know you were in the mood for casual chat. For once, it was nice to lower your guard a little and let the crew see you as a person rather than some mysterious, looming figure.

Well… Mostly. Gunther had gleefully pointed out how members of the ‘Captain Fan Club’ had been lingering around, peeking glances into whatever room you happened to be in. When you tried to look at them, the club members quickly spun around and tried to play it cool through random topics of conversation or pointing out different features like they were on duty. You weren’t exactly sure how a member of the ADS was supposed to give any professional opinions on what were actually oxygen pipes, but you left them to it.

Eventually, you gave them the slip and went down a small side corridor. The engineering department had a workshop dedicated to reparations and other projects. Mark had mentioned he had been building a prototype of a ‘cool idea’, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t curious about it.

“Captain! You’re just in time! Come here, come here!” Your Head Engineer was in high spirits as he grabbed you by the arm and yanked you across the workshop. “So I was talking to Burt a few weeks ago and - you know how he does the whole poetry thing? Turns out? He writes it! And not on the tech pads. On paper! I didn’t think anyone even did that these days!”

You raise an eyebrow, deciding not to point out that writing on paper was not fully extinct. Best to let him be excited as he showed off the large machine with tubes poking out of it.

“So it got me thinking. What if there was an automated postal system? Once you’ve written your letter and sealed it, you write the number code of the person you want to send it to. Then, you’d put the envelope in here.” A handle was pulled to reveal an opening. “From there, the computer scans the code, sorts it, and sends it zipping to its destination! The tubes would go in different directions, with the aim to bring it directly to the person’s cabin. Or! If you’re out, you can pick it up from over here.” He waved at you to follow him, where there was the end of a tube just over a small platform. “You type in your code here, scan your hand here, and it’ll send it right back here. Like this.” Stepping around you, Mark followed the steps. Three short, aggressive beeps followed, accompanied by an automated message saying there was no post available. “You try! I’ve only tested it on my code so it’ll be good practice to see if it will recognise anyone else.”

You nod, and follow Mark’s instructions. First, the code. Then, the scan.

One long, less aggressive beep was heard.

“That’s not right-”

‘Please Wait. Your post will be with you shortly.’

“Hold on. There shouldn’t be anything!” Mark put an arm out, stepping in front of you protectively as you both waited to see what would arrive. A tube to the left rattled. The main body of the machine lit up in a sequence of lights. Mark braced himself as the tube in front of you shook and spat out… A letter.

You lean forward, peering over Mark’s shoulder as you stare, dumbfounded at the post that was successfully delivered.

“Captain…? I think this is a trap. What do we do?”

Two options appeared before you: destroy the letter, or examine it.

Curiosity got the better of you as you moved around Mark to open the hatch. There was a brief, childish squabble as he attempted to block you from getting there, but your strength guaranteed that you could simply lift him up and place him behind you.

“Er… Sorry, Captain. You do know what’s best…”

Satisfied that he wouldn’t cause another ruckus, you finally claimed the letter and examined the envelope. As expected, it was addressed to you, but not how Mark said it should be. Rather, it was for your old address on Earth. Had you been there still, it would have arrived safely. A different handwriting had your number code in the top corner, just beside the stamps, with a small moustache drawn underneath.

“So… Is it safe?”

You nodded as you reread your old address. The handwriting was messy and scratchy, but it was so familiar. You had seen it a dozen times before.

The question is… How did a letter from Yancy get here?

With Mark distracted on his mission to figure out who onboard sent the letter, you sat at his desk and opened the envelope. Everything was untouched, meaning that the second sender didn’t peek inside. Yancy knew about ‘space camp’ and how you were inaccessible, yet… he wrote anyway?

Your name was on the top of the creased, lined paper. To the right, you could see it was dated from the start of October. Everything was the same as always - from the scratchy pencil he over-sharpened, to the bad spelling and grammar. It was quintessentially ‘Yancy’.

I don’t even know why I’m doing this. You isn’t living here. You moved out ages ago. But i has been thinking. It’s the middle of the night here. Still in Happy Trails, still on the slow path to a parole hearing. And I has been looking at the sky. There ain’t many stars out there but they make me think of you. You doing okay out there? Bet you is so fucking far away by now. Maybe you found new planets or something. Doubt this little rock is even on the back of your mind but… it’s been quiet. Not being able to see you, I mean. Look, I gotta be honest. It’s october, and that’s the month when we first met. It’s hard to let the month pass and not mark that somehow, even if its through a shitty letter that ill get back in a week or two. Things ain’t easy right now. The parole thing? I know its the right thing to do, but it’s intimidating now that im in the middle of it. When that hearing comes itll be the first time i has seen my brother and sisters since the incidents. Ain’t looking forward to that. And they can say that they don’t think me fit to leave too. Not that i blame them. Dont think they can get my sentence upgraded to the death penalty but theres a real big chance that im gonna be rejected. I know i should give up while im ahead and save the embarasmant. But then i gets to thinking that it ain’t the right thing for me no more. I might fuck up and get refused but i gets to say i tried. That’s something, right? And anyway, i ain’t letting you down. You believe in me. You always said you believe in me when you came to visitation. Giving up is quitters talk anyway, and im no coward. You dont get scars like mine from hiding all scared!! But i aint that kid no more. The person who did those things is me but isnt me. Does that make sense? Hes me, but im not him. I think ive grown up more than i realised. Im not that trapped kid. Im Yancy, and im going to do right. Once i get out……. Itll be a good thing. Maybe I could get up to where you is. Or maybe by then you is back and maybe we could… do something. I dunno. Im still proud of you for all you is doing, even when you is having one of them bad days.. Dont forget that. Except if you is a nosy shit who this letter ain’t for. You can fuck right off. Or send me a letter back so i can see whether i should be proud of you too. Oh! Remember. Back or side of the knees is a GRATE weak point if you needs a quick escape. Not that i want you to get in trouble or nothing. Just giving some good advice! Wait. I should probably go back to bed. fuck. Hope you is safe. Yancy.

You couldn’t stop the wistful smile as you finished the letter. At the bottom, you noticed an addition written in pen, the same one that was used to address the envelope.

PS. Nearly sent this in but someone brought in one of them instant camera things! Asked them to take a photo of me so you dont forget this handsome mug!

That caught your interest, and you lifted the envelope to peer in. Sure enough, there was a Polaroid tucked away at the bottom that was swiftly retrieved.

Yancy was certainly a little older than you remembered. He still had a pompadour style, but it wasn’t held back as tightly and allowed the curls to loosely fall. His eyes were squeezed shut to accompany the wide, goofy smile and two thumbs up. You chuckled at the conversation that must have happened when the photo was taken about what pose to do. Instead of one to remind you of how tough he was, he instead opted for one that proved that, despite everything, he was still a friend you valued.

You were proud of him too, even if you couldn’t tell him.

#ahwm yancy #a heist with markiplier #in space with markiplier #(read more is for tidiness! :d )#(I've wanted to throw something here to show I'm not dead and it's my boy that finally spurred me on)#(hope it reads okay! It's a first draft because I'm not feeling well and want to go to bed before work)#(also engineer mark is here)#(I've left all dynamics vague to allow people to decide who they are shipped with - if anyone)

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