ic contact.

[decryptify]

placeholder

Comments

[blameful]

No.

[ this conversation has gone far enough off track for one day. ]

My helmet, York.

[decryptify]

You can come pick it up any time you want.

[blameful]

[ hahahaha! ]

Nice try. How about you leave it somewhere I can find it?

[decryptify]

Not gonna work, buddy.

[blameful]

[ oh my god. ]

Nate, don't fuck with me. You have my helmet and I want it back.

[decryptify]

And you can have it back.

Just gotta come get it, David.

[blameful]

I'm not coming to get shit. Leave it where I can find it.

[decryptify]

Nope.

[blameful]

[ FUCK YOU. ]

I'm not playing this game with you, either. Leave. It. Where. I. Can. Find. It.

[decryptify]

No game to be played.

I have it, you want it. Sounds like you play by my rules, or you're out of luck.

[blameful]

You think that's how this is gonna go? If I come to you, I'm not asking nicely.

[decryptify]

I didn't ask you to bring me a gift basket, Wash.

Just said you had to come get it.

[blameful]

I'm not coming to get it.

[decryptify]

Guess I've got a new trophy for my wall, then.

[blameful]

[ ohhhhhhhhhhh my goddddddddd?????? ]

Why the hell did you even take it? You should've left it with my body.

[decryptify]

[ He doesn't know, honestly. He wasn't exactly thinking straight, after realizing what he'd done, after that strange focused anger started to fade away into horror and anguish. All he remembers is still having Wash's blood on his hands, scrabbling at his armor, pulling off his helmet just to see his skin pale as death, just to see him not fucking breathing. He remembers shaking him, no, come on, rookie, David, don't -- come on --

Then there was Maine. He couldn't afford to stay, but he couldn't just fucking leave him there either, and. York ended up taking the helmet with him.

Wash doesn't need to know any of that. ]

How could I walk away with nothing to show for all my hard work?

I'll get it mounted, put your name under it it in shiny brass lettering. I'll polish it every day, don't worry. I remember how particular you were about that.

[blameful]

[ see wash five seconds away from blowing a fucking gasket. see wash put his hand straight through a plaster wall. see wash throw his phone to the ground to stomp on it before immediately deciding better of it and picking it up to text york back. ]

You want to bait me with your bullshit, York? Go ahead. Keep it. You're gonna need it more than me when I bust your fucking faceplate open.

1/2

[decryptify]

Sorry, Wash. You're right.

[decryptify]

Gold lettering.

The good stuff, too. Brass is a little unbecoming. I've got just the place picked out, though, right above the mantelpiece. Don't know about what kind of wood the mount's gonna be made out of, I'll get back to you after I check with my decorator, but let me tell you, rookie, it's gonna look fantastic.

1/3 i lied

[decryptify]

You should come by to look at it.

[blameful]

[ holy shit! you're a dick!

wash stops replying entirely for over an hour, mostly so he can calm the fuck down and recollect his thoughts. he's better than this. he's too fucking old for this. so, fine. if york wants to see him so badly, then maybe they can work something out. on wash's terms. ]

I'm not coming to you, but you can come to me. Unarmed and out of armor.

[decryptify]

[ He's being a dick 'cause he loves you and he knows you aren't going to show unless he pisses you off enough. And because he's a bit of a dick, sure. But mostly because he loves you.

Probably. ]

Can't.

[blameful]

That's my compromise, York. You come to me.

[decryptify]

I already got the decorator booked for a consultation, I can't be outta the house when they show up.

[blameful]

Do you honestly think I'm stupid enough to come to a predetermined location on your terms and on your turf? The only reason you fucked me up so bad the last time is because you caught me off guard. I'm not letting that happen again.

You come to me.