ataraxionlogs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

agent york,
delta

(no subject)

CHARACTERS: Agent York

alaspooryork
LOCATION: Their room
WARNINGS: Brief mentions of psychological torture
SUMMARY: Delta has a nightmare
NOTES: none

He'd slept much better since moving to York's room, certainly. Given that sleep in itself was rather foreign to Delta's thought processes, his extensive knowledge of human medical lore told Delta he should sleep at minimum six hours a night in order to facilitate a healthy mental state.

He tried. He really did. It wasn't his fault he was a product of a poor mental state to begin with.

So once again, Delta found his sleep was disturbed. His conversations with Sigma had brought some of his more disturbing thoughts to the surface: the similarity of the Tranquility to the Mother of Invention, the constant sense of unease he felt in such an environment, and above all the simple fact that their futures here were all completely unknown. They could run out of fuel at any moment, or life support could suddenly cease, or perhaps it would turn out that all this was an elaborate simulation designed to break him as the Alpha had been broken. Or maybe it was in fact for the Alpha, who was here, and there would be nothing Delta could do to protect him or Tex or York or Wash or York or any of the others because he was still so poorly-equipped to deal with everything in his current state, and what if Smiley was really just Omega's nasty cousin--

Needless to say, there was a fair amount of whimpering from Delta's side of the room as scenario after scenario played itself out in his head that night, and he was trapped inside it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

York was well familiar with the kinds of things D worried about. They'd shared headspace for long enough, and York had been there to comfort D enough times, that it didn't surprise him at all that when the AI was placed in a human body the stress manifested as nightmares.

This wasn't the first time he'd awakened to the sounds of Delta whimpering in his sleep. He did whatever he could to simply let D know he was there for him, whether it meant reading some history from his comm device or letting D recount solutions to statistical analyses to him. As before he arose from his bed and approached to shake the other man awake. He tried to do this gently, and this time he knelt by the bed and took D's hand in one of his before shaking his shoulder with the other.

"D," he muttered. "You're dreaming. Wake up."

He gasped awake and gripped York's hand hard enough to let his short nails dig into skin and leave marks. His mind raced to tell him the facts--you're on the Tranquility, nothing is wrong, York is here--but his body was having a difficult time catching up and he sat up. A few deep breaths and he swallowed dryly. There should be water, he always put water by his bed.

Keeping a grip on York's hand, though he relaxed the grip a smidge, Delta reached over and took a short drink of water to give his mouth some moisture.

"Has anything happened?"

He didn't wince at the feeling of Delta's nails—it didn't hurt that much, and his concern was too much for it to make much of a difference to him. Instead he let his grip slip just slightly when D relaxed, just to let him feel the sensation of skin sliding against skin. He was here, he was real.

"No, D, nothing's happened," he replied, his tone softening. "It's okay. You were making noises."

The friction between their palms did help and Delta relaxed the pressure a little more after a quick squeeze of acknowledgment. Well, and to keep himself anchored. York had always been an anchor to him, even if by necessity they weren't as close as they had been once.

He nodded in a delayed response to York's statement. "My apologies. I have been...anxious."

Not that there was anything comforting about being trapped on this ship, with the obvious and notable exception of York's presence, but maybe discussing the exact ways the ship made him uncomfortable with Sigma had brought something nearer to the surface than was healthy.

"Hey, don't apologize. Nothing to be sorry for." He knew how Delta was affected by his anxiety, and what sort of things brought it about. Those things should seem far away right now though. The only thing that concerned him was that D may have found a whole new set of worries, here on the ship. York took everything that happened there in stride, but that must be harder for D.

He arose from his kneeling position and sat on the edge of the bed. "Seems worse than usual though. Something going on?"

Delta took another drink of his water as a delaying tactic, but soon enough the glass was empty and he set it back on the side table. He frowned to himself for a moment and then scooted a little closer to York. The body heat was good, but there was actually some kind of tactile response humans seemed to have when making physical contact with other mammals. Maybe it would be enough to bring his pulse rate back down to normal.

He wasn't sure how to describe it, though, not yet.

"I have had a great deal of idle time and have been thinking." That in itself probably wasn't surprising to York.

"York, are you comfortable here?"

"Maybe just..." He nudged Delta a little to scoot the opposite direction that he just had, "I'm kind of hanging off the edge here, see."

He frowned a little at that part about all of the free time. "Weren't you going to join the engineering department?"

Delta blinked and scooted a little to give York a bit more room. He wouldn't want him to fall off. Still, he didn't let go of York's hand just yet.

"Yes. I have been assisting them frequently, but many of the tasks are maintenance that require only basic concentration." In fact, dealing with the engines that could only be described as alien were a part of what had brought this on.

"There is little we truly understand about this ship. Even in direct contact with the components of the jump drive, I am not conversant with the theories behind its use or the extent to which this ship is damaged." It was damaged. There could be no mistaking that much, at least. "Moreover, we have no information regarding its destination. What are we headed toward?"

And that was the root of it. AI had an instinctive drive to acquire information, to understand the world around them, and to take control of anything they could. Unknown variables that could not be figured out were terribly disturbing to Delta, and the lack of control only compounded it.

He knew all these things. He also knew it would not be helpful to advise Delta to take the same route he did, that was, to simply not think about it. D's nature was to worry, to mull over the source of anxiety to the point where he became worked up about it. For that reason he knew it was better to be still and to listen, and avoid saying anything that sounded similar to that.

"If we take what the pirates said as true, the ship was lost years ago," he said slowly. He really wasn't sure that this information would be helpful, but it was the truth. "It's not even supposed to exist, is what they said. I don't know whether to believe it. You're right though, there is damage. The shuttles are damaged too."

Delta nodded, and it seemed like he was finally getting his breathing under control, at least. It was one of the stranger perks of the human body that physical state mirrored psychological traits to the extent that a panic caused in one was controllable by discipline in the other. Admittedly, usually this was reversed in his case, with his mind controlling the actions of his body.

"And what crew there has been is only notable in its absence." The captain had absconded right after those pirate attacks, as far as Delta knew. "I understand that supplies appear in the lockers after a jump, but if that is our only means of replenishing consumable supplies, we will eventually run out. The Oxygen Gardens are essential, but at their current levels cannot fully support the population. What will happen when the supplies are gone?"

He could perceive Delta's calming, as subtle as it was. He didn't intend to move off, though, not until D explicitly said he should. In the meantime, he stayed alongside him, holding his hand.

"Have you been making an inventory, D?" He was genuinely curious, because he wasn't sure whether Delta was making suppositions or if he had actual figures to back up what he was saying. It would be one thing if the people on the ship were completely relying on the gardens, but the kitchens and bars were completely restocked during every jump—something he was avoiding saying, because he didn't want Delta focusing on who exactly was replenishing their stocks. It was most likely the same entity that had the power to bring everyone here in the first place, who had the power to put D in a human body, and that was all the more thought York cared to put to it. He'd been putting off dealing with that, and he still wasn't quite ready.

If they'd been able to, the easiest way to calm Delta down would have been for him to just process hundreds of calculations in a few seconds. Still, he could at least repeat some Fibonacci numbers in his mind and try to bring the logic back to his thoughts. It seemed to be working.

"Casually," he admitted. "It is easiest with the supplies on this floor, as we encounter them regularly. Frankly, if they are from the same origin as your helmet and the grenade, I am not confident about their safety."

Those had been put in York's locker seemingly only to unnerve him. And what better way to unnerve the ship at large by choosing not to replenish supplies during a jump?

And as usual Delta had already been ahead of him on that thought. He let out a held breath and squeezed D's hand gently. "You been thinking about that a lot, D?"

Delta sighed at the hand squeeze - it was comforting, and York's body heat against his is obscurely helping as well. Must be a human biology thing.

"More than I should," he admitted. "Perhaps it is because I have spoken to Sigma. His ideas can be...disturbing."

His brows drew together just slightly. "Sigma, huh?" No wonder Delta's sleep had gotten worse. "I'd tell you not to listen to him, but I know that's a lot easier said than done. But, you know him. The only thing Sigma cares about is Sigma."

He nodded. It was, in fact, easier said than done. All his siblings had something that made them seem, well, trustworthy. (Except for Gamma. Gamma was just a liar.)

"He has a goal he is unwilling to share, perhaps. Still, his perspective is different from my own yet with the same background. It is difficult to dismiss his ideas."

He let out another breath slowly. Well, he was calm enough now, maybe even enough to get back to sleep tonight. Talking it out with York really was helping.

"May I ask your thoughts on the matter?"

He sighed. "Well, you know me, D. Worrying's just not something I do. I'm just taking things as they come." He reached up to rub his forehead. "I know that doesn't help. Can't say any of your points aren't valid, 'cause they are. It's just that we're not really in much of a position to change things."

Delta wasn't sure why, but for some reason that brought the ghost of a smile to his face. Maybe just because it was York being York.

"Is there a better way to handle the discomfort besides nightmares?"

Maybe there was and maybe there wasn't, but he did feel guilty about disturbing York's sleep as well as his own.

"Why do you think the bar is such a popular place on this ship?" he asked, only half-teasing. The fact of the matter was there was an underlying level of tension inherent to living on this ship, even if you were one of the people like York who had less reason to despise it than others.

"'Course, there's the gyms, too. Work out real hard and you'll sleep hard, maybe dream less. But seriously, D, there's only so much you can do to cope. It doesn't surprise me that it comes out as nightmares. I just wish it didn't have to be that way."

He nodded, the bit of a smile still on his face at York's teasing. It would certainly explain why people were so determined to try some of the space alcohol that was particularly unpalatable.

"Physical exhaustion or endorphins seem equally likely, in that case." He did exercise a little to keep in shape, more out of a sense of duty than any real enjoyment, but it was better than nothing. The human body he'd been provided with was far more on the lanky side than the muscular one, even after countless reps of weights.

"In any case, I am glad I need not handle it alone."

That was the crux of the matter. How much worse would it be without York here? Even with Church, Tex, and Epsilon and the others, none of them knew him like York did. None of them could bring him back to normal within a few minutes like York could, after a nightmare like that.

He gave Delta's hand another, harder squeeze. "Yeah; yeah, me too." His being here may not have seemed to have any purpose before, but now it did. He had always been there for D in the past and that was never going to change as far as he was concerned. What the powers-that-be had in mind may be another matter, but once again, he preferred not to think about that. For now this was the status quo, and York dealt in realities.

"Feeling like you could get back to sleep now?" he asked, still trying to be gentle about it. The episode seemed to have passed now, though, and both of them still needed to get some rest.

Delta paused for a moment to consider the question. The adrenaline would probably take at least a few more minutes to leave his bloodstream entirely, but he felt that he was cooling down and should be able to sleep soon. He nodded.

"Thank you, York."

It was far more bearable with his partner here. York's presence didn't make the causes of the nightmares any less real, but it was at least a reason to continue persevering through it all.

"You're welcome, D." He uncurled his fingers and let his hand slip out of Delta's bracing himself with his hands to prepare to stand. "Let me know if you need me to read to you or anything, okay. The usual stuff. You know."

"I will be certain to do so."

His exhale was close to a sigh, though a little less intense. Still, as he was in fact feeling better now, he probably shouldn't take up any more of York's time. The lingering body heat on his bed was a comfort enough for now.

"Good night, York."

Edited 2013-08-08 23:24 (UTC)

"'Night." With that he popped up and moved over to his own bed.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only