Chapter Text
Something clicks in the other man’s face as he figures out what Leon’s doing. “You’re going to pilot it by yourself.”
“My co-pilot’s dead,” Leon says bluntly, buckling himself into the main pilot seat of the Tyrant and trying to ignore the tremors in the ground.
“The longest recorded solo drift where the pilot didn’t die was 14 minutes. The mainland is further away than that,” Felix insists, as another crack resonates through the outpost. “It’s going to kill you.”
Leon clenches his jaw, doing everything he can to avoid making eye contact. “It’s not like we have many other options.”
There’s a moment of silence. “Yes, we do.”
Leon does turn at that, alarm covering his face as Felix reaches into a compartment to pull out a spare drivesuit, his jacket folded up with surprising care and put away. “You can’t be serious.”
Surprisingly, the suit fits, and Felix slips into the copilot chair. “You’re not a pilot,” Leon points out, as if that’s somehow more egregious than the suicidal plan Leon had already-- and yet despite his reservations he can’t help but notice the fact this guy is strapping himself in with a coordination that suggests he has some idea of how Jaegers work, at least.
Felix seems to notice the look Leon is giving him, and shrugs half-heartedly. “I read the manuals.”
“Most actual pilots haven’t even read those,” Leon comments, not unkindly, more wondering what would possess someone to voluntarily slog through those hundreds of pages.
“I need to know what you people are capable of doing to my beautifully constructed defenses if you don’t care to find the door.”
Leon winces as he tries not to think about how many times he and Marvin have crashed the Tyrant through some concrete barrier or another to save precious minutes, but he suspects the other man already knows, based on the look Leon’s receiving.
Luckily for him, the awkward conversation topic is averted by the much more pressing matter of Felix lifting the co-pilot’s neural headset. “Wait,” Leon pleads, one gloved hand reaching out to stop the other man from putting it on. “You know you can’t go back from this.”
“You can’t come back from death, either, actually,” Felix retorts, though it’s clear he’s not quite getting what Leon is saying.
“If you decide to drift with me,” Leon begins, a serious look in his eyes. “Remember that I’ll be able to see what’s happened in your past.” And you in mine, he doesn’t say, even though that’s mostly what’s driving him to persuade Felix not to put that headset on, frying his brain in some desperate act of stubborn heroism be damned.
There’s a brief moment where Felix’s brows furrow before jumping in surprise, recognition of what that means, a look of brief panic covering his face before it’s smothered by something else.
Felix inhales deeply, before nodding, locking eyes with Leon again as he puts the headset on. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
Leon tries to ignore the raising of his pulse, and the fact it’s distinctly visible on the nearby vitals monitor. If Felix notices, he’s polite enough not to say anything.
PILOT-TO-PILOT PROTOCOL SEQUENCE… INITIATING NEURAL BRIDGE IN 15. 14. 13. 12.
It seems like Leon’s heart rate isn’t the only one picking up. “Are you--”
“I’m fine,” Felix snaps, and for a second Leon is forced to acknowledge it’s not like the guy wants to be doing this. He wisely keeps his mouth shut-- it’s not like there’s going to be any secrets between them in a few seconds anyway, he may as well give the guy a break while he still can.
3. 2. 1. NEURAL HANDSHAKE INITIATED.
Leon distantly hears (feels) Felix let out a gasp as their minds and that of the Jaeger are joined, becoming at once smaller and bigger than themselves, and he--
He’s a child, and he’s screaming. Everything is loud, and wet, and there’s a blinding pain in his back. He’s too young to understand what’s happening, and now he’ll never know his parents--
His parents are alive, and they love him. Until he’s 14 and too scared to move as a horrifying creature emerges from the shore, his parents’ last act shoving him out of the way as they’re crushed--
He’s 13, and he knows he’s a boy, and his foster mom screams at him when they see he’s taped down his growing chest, telling him if he got a boyfriend then maybe he’d be a normal girl--
He’s 21, and someone offers him a fine white powder in a club bathroom that blurs with the rest of the tiling from how much he’s already drunk. It’s not a problem, until it is--
He’s 21, and his co-pilot begs him to put him out of his misery before the rising water claims him. The knowledge Marvin’s body is shattered underneath the immovable rubble does nothing to make the choice easier--
He’s 28, and now his girlfriend is pregnant. He pretends to be happy for them and wakes up two days later in his bathtub after a blackout binge of drugs and booze, wondering why he feels so trapped and hopeless when every normal person would feel so overjoyed--
NEURAL HANDSHAKE STABILIZED. CALIBRATING RIGHT HEMISPHERE--
Leon pulls himself together, reaching a hand up to reconfigure the Tyrant’s control system. Typical configuration too advanced for a first time. Let the architect manage the balance and momentum, I’ll handle the limb movement--
You’re in my head. Leon looks to his left, meeting Felix’s wide eyes-- and god does it feel different knowing the shit they’ve both been through. “Yeah,” Leon says, out loud. “Weird, huh?” Felix manages a nod. Fuck, Leon hears in their melded consciousness. Right. First time drifting.
“Just focus on what’s going on outside. Don’t get distracted, we still need to get out of here.” It’s a reminder to himself, too, considering--
He thinks I’m pretty? “No,” Leon says, brow furrowing and a flush creeping up his neck as his unconscious replies isn’t it obvious?
There’s a moment of blissful silence as Leon flexes the Tyrant’s arms, before Felix speaks up.
“So… Do we wanna talk about that?”
“No.” Leon’s answer is almost distracted, but there’s a strange feeling of warmth through the mental connection. He wasn’t really expecting Felix to take that well (why wouldn’t I?) “Do you wanna talk about the drugs--”
The warmth vanishes. “Nope.”
“Right.” Leon nods, the Tyrant’s oversized mechanical head moving in sync. “Let’s get the fuck out of here, and we can pretend none of this ever happened.”
“Sounds good.”