suitably_heroic | The Ebon Hawk, MCA Roof, Friday Afternoon

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The Ebon Hawk, MCA Roof, Friday Afternoon

Mical hadn't been eager to give Atton the go-ahead on coming back. But by now, he had finally learned the cardinal rule: you didn't tell Atton Rand what to do and expect him to do what you wanted to do.

So after a week of recuperating on Fandom, Atton was back on the Hawk, running through the last of the check-up procedures. Yeah, he'd already fixed any system that as much as looked at him oddly over the past week - but after all the past crashes, this was a soothing little ritual before he took it back into potentially dangerous situations.

(Sparkle had gotten a casual 'going home, taking the Hawk, come if you want to' that morning. Nice and breezy. At least if they had any Conversations on the Hawk, Atton could pretend that the starship was to blame.)

"Internal illumination system... check," he marked off. "Gizka containm-- has Mira been messing around with this again?"

[[ open, if you happen to be near a rooftop starship. ]]

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"If you show up with a bunch of gizka, I'm opening up the airlock," Atton said, pulling back from the console he'd been prodding at.

"I would show restraint," Sparkle said, chin up in the air. "I would limit myself to one gizka."

Probably.

"You never get just one gizka," Atton argued, holding up the list to squint at the last dot on it. "They're gizka. They multiply. And in five minutes, boom - you've got twenty."

"Sweet," Sparkle replied. "Free gizka."

He was well aware they'd had this talk before. But he was kind of just enjoying that they actually were talking, now. Which led him to loop around to, "So, you're feeling up to getting back to it back there now, are you?"

"The reports coming in from Mira and Visas aren't looking great," Atton said casually. "Figured I'd get a better view from back home."

"Cool," Sparkle replied. And then he oozed into the copilot's seat in a position that seats were not necessarily intended for and glanced over his shoulder at Atton. "So, does the invite mean you're done avoiding me now, or are you getting a better view in part because it makes that easier?"

Right to the point, that Sparkle.

"I wasn't avoiding you," Atton muttered. "I was just following doctor's orders and sleeping a lot."

On the roof.

Under a starship.

With cake.

"Uh-huh."

Sparkle wasn't buying it.

"So, are you done that, then?"

"I'm better now," Atton replied brightly. "So yeah, pretty much."

"Cool," Sparkle replied. And then he fell silent for a whole ten seconds before adding, "That was shitty."

"Yeah, I couldn't recommend getting a blaster to the gut," Atton agreed.

"That, yeah." Sparkle was tempted to let that go. Just nod and be done with it. They could get back to whatever it was they did when they were in denial about having shit like emotions and that would be that. "And finding out the rest from Mical."

He was supposed to hate Mical, damn it. He was still pissed off at him over that last time he'd stuck his neck out and told him to just fucking trust Atton, for a change of pace. Atton wasn't supposed to go and make Sparkle wonder if the guy had had a point or something. That wasn't how that was supposed to go.

Atton turned his head and looked at him, frowning. "Sparks, I'm not so good at Jedi telepath poodoo that I can beam words into your head while I'm in a kolto tank, all right?"

"I know that," Sparkle muttered. "I meant, like... before that."

God, did Atton even remember, or was skirting around things using lies and half-truths so much the norm now that he didn't even realize he was doing it?

"When you played it off like Mira kicking you off-planet was some shitty thing she was pulling."

And he'd fucking known it couldn't just be that. And he'd let it go.

Skirting around things using lies and half-truths had been Atton's reality for years even before they'd met. It was part of Atton's DNA, even when he did his best not to.

He sighed.

"Right," he said. "That."

"Yeah," Sparkle muttered. "That."

And again, he tried to let it slide at that. Atton knew it bugged him. Good enough.

"It isn't like I don't know the shit you do out there," he added, anyway. "I'd rather find out from you than Mical when things are fucked up again."

"Things are always fucked up."

Atton's fingers slid over the keys as he got the startup protocols running.

"So why try to play it off like they aren't?"

Sparkle crossed his arms over his chest.

"Mical's shitty at the 'he probably won't die' calls, by the way."

"Because if it's always fucked up, then what's the point of telling you every time?" Atton asked. "Great, let's tell Sparkle I'm heading into certain danger again, so I can get a nice headache off of him losing it for a week."

(It wasn't the headache he cared about, but 'I hate seeing you stressed out about me' was a little too close to touchy-feely for his standards.)

"It's easier to not lose it if I know it's a possibility than when I get a call out of nowhere, all, 'the medic says it's a good sign he was moving around before he fell over with a fucking belly wound,'" Sparkle muttered. And then adjusted his posture around so he could lean back in the chair the right way. "I'm gonna worry, you know. Either way."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't," Atton said.

The engines started to whirr.

"I'll stop worrying about you when I'm good and ready," Sparkle muttered. He stared up at the ceiling. Ugh. "I give a shit, okay? I'm getting used to a lot, but I'm always going to give a shit."

"And I'm probably going to get killed on one of these trips," Atton shot back. "I mean, I've done a pretty good job not doing that so far, but it's going to happen sometime. You really want to be updated every time it might happen?"

"No," Sparkle admitted, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Yes? I don't fucking know. But if we're talking about it you don't have to put on, like, kid gloves, okay? I've lived with you long enough I know when you're just moving your mouth and shit is falling out, okay?"

"Fine," Atton grumbled. "Okay? Fine. If it saves me from ever having one of these conversations again, I'd be happy to."

"Okay." Sparkle lowered his hand again and blew out a breath and looked back Atton's way. "Okay. Thank you."

He was quiet for a few more moments, and then he added, a little more quietly, "My whole fucking life has been about being lied to by people who want to make me feel better about everything actually being hopeless bullshit. I just don't want you to be one of those people too."

"I get that, Sparks," Atton said, a little tired. "But the basic hopeless bullshit doesn't change. Just the details."

"And everything is hopeless bullshit. I know." Sparkle was quiet for a moment more. "So, if picking off the rotten bits and rolling it in sugar isn't actually fooling either of us, what's the point in bothering?"

"So some of us can sleep at night," Atton said.

Sparkle shot a sideways glance at Atton and held it for a few seconds.

"Which one of us do you mean by that?"

"If that's your attempt at bouncing this back on me," Atton said, "Joke's on you. I don't sleep anyway."

"Had to check anyway," Sparkle replied with a light shrug. He leaned back in his seat again. Returned to studying the ceiling. "I don't want to be the person everyone feels they have to protect from real life forever."

He'd done more than his fair share of living, too, after all.

"Heh."

Atton brought the Hawk up and angled her, punching straight through the atmosphere.

"You know a hell of a lot more about how dangerous my life gets than anybody else," he said.

"Yeah." Sparkle drummed his fingers against his knee for a few seconds. Something to do with his hands. He didn't have anything he could just immediately reach for to fidget with at that moment. "I mean, I know. It's hard to miss from where I'm sitting, anyway. Just... still." He sighed. "Don't start, okay? That'd make you everyone else and then I'd have to hide a kitten in your bedsheets or something."

Some people resorted directly to kicking. Those people didn't understand how to be properly vindictive.

"I promise I'm not gonna tell you we're going to a magical unicorn land, ditch you on a rock, and then go self-immolate like a noble Jedi knight," Atton said, crossing his fingers visibly. "All right?"

Sparkle, like the mature adult human person he was, stuck out his tongue at Atton. And then flipped him the bird for good measure.

With love.

"I'm going to take that as an 'all right'," Atton said, "Because I'm a mature guy."

"Damn right you are," Sparkle agreed, "because if you're promising me a magical unicorn land, you had better deliver."

"Haven't found that planet yet," Atton said. "Sorry, Sparks."

"Well, keep an eye out," Sparkle said, cracking a faint grin. "Or I might have to talk to the island about going back to that place with all the fucked-up rainbow animals and shit again."

It wasn't a magical unicorn land, but it was close.

"Aw, you just want the real unicorn hair for your trapper-keeper or whatever," Atton said sagely. "And real rainbow poo to write 'Mr. Sparkle Atreides' on the cover with."

Sparkle's response to that was an ungodly squawk and to throw the first thing that came to hand at Atton's head.

So, his stuffed cat toy, because it happened to be peeking out of his backpack just then.

Atton, being the absolute asshole Jedi that he was, snatched it right out of the air.

"Whoops, you dropped this."

Sparkle was absolutely wrinkling his nose as he made a reach for the toy.

"Sparkle Atreides sounds weird, man."

He had weird hangups. A lot of them.

Atton let him take the toy, but he looked amused.

"Less weird than 'Leto Sparkle'."

Sparkle took the cat and clung to it for a minute, muttering.

"Sparkle's not my last name anyway."

He just didn't ever acknowledge what was, and it was going to stay that way because fuck that guy.

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The Ebon Hawk, MCA Roof, Friday Afternoon

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