[Open] He says, it's mine to give, but it's yours to choose

[silberfuchs]

Who| Albert and Jet, Albert and Sigma, Albert and YOU
What| After having to shoot his husband out of the sky during the last District mission, Albert's been captured.
Where| Detainment Center. Visiting room, cafeteria, etc.
When| After the D8/D9 liberations
Warnings/Notes| Violence, suicidal topics, past body horror, forced drug abuse, body horror, probably other horrible things.


1. Arriving (Closed; for Jet)

He didn't resist.

Not when Punchy brought him into the enemy camp with a wavering gun and Albert's hands on his head knowing that a bullet of such small caliber, even at that close range, would just glance off of his metal body. Knowing that Punchy wouldn't shoot him, that he wouldn't go through Punchy to get away either, no matter how easy it would be.

Not when the Peacekeepers, an ironic use of the words, put the butts of their rifles to his face and back anyway as soon as they'd moved him to where he could be secured, where they could make sure he wasn't loaded, wasn't a bomb about to go off. He didn't feel it, not matter how he went down.

Not when the powers went off and he felt all those bruises, felt his skin taut on his cheek bones shiny and purple and tender to the touch. He doesn't touch it. He lets it be, a visible statement to how he must look inside.

He doesn't struggle, doesn't run, doesn't fight despite a myriad of opportunities. He barely even reacts until he's been put in his cell, the forcefield a barrier of static between himself and his captors. And even then it's one simple sentence.

"Show me Jet Link."

It's a threat despite its simple delivery, and it still somehow carries weight despite the energy barrier between anything Albert could do and those who wouldn't survive if he did it.


2. Settling

It's surprising how much prison and the military have in common as far as regimentation. There's a schedule for everything, rigid and unyielding. It would almost be a comfort in the irony of how similar it is to Thirteen's overly structured environment if it didn't also bring Albert memories of Black Ghost, of occupied Mocawa, of a lack of every autonomy that makes Thirteen bearable and keeps Albert grounded instead of adrift in memories he's sought for decades to repress.

Get up. Push ups until the force fields go down he couldn't do push ups at first, not when they'd kept his legs and arm for testing. Impossible to do push ups with only one extremity, shower not as cold as on Ghost Island, he thinks. He couldn't feel temperature right in those days, food, forced reeducation violence for its own sake, or for fear's sake. It's easier to detach from than being picked apart piece by piece, to know you died on the table at least twice but that didn't stop them and you're still here, still here with little else to focus on than the agony inside and a voice in the vent.

But there's no voice in the vent. There's no vent, and the voice is...

Gone.

No. He refuses to believe that. Jet's still there, and Albert will find him and bring him back and they'll turn this around just as they did with Black Ghost. Just as they did on Mocawa. Just as Jet was able to reassemble Albert into a functional human being, Albert will do the same for his husband. That's the first step.

And it starts with him playing along. Tired grunts and stiff movements, no complaints as he's taken out and paraded through the day from one meaningless event to the next with as much resistance as a windless sea. But embers burn in the back of his psyche and there's something truly unsettling in the way he complies, the same reaction to a soft word as a barked order, as a shove. It's all the same for now.

It may not be later.

004 doesn't forget voices. Doesn't forget faces.

004 can wait a very.

Very.

Long.

Time.

--

It's only been a week, but Albert's rarely seen in any company when there's down time, either the cafeteria or in the exercise yard. He exudes an aura of nothing. Void, cold and uninviting but a little sad as he does nothing more interesting than eat his food or stand against a wall. He barely says a word, but looks, watches, and sees.

Sometimes, he'll offer a hand with a task, wordless but there at the right time to steady someone before a fall, or catch something as its dropped. Sometimes, he'll stare too long at someone, perhaps deciding if further association is wise, or maybe willing them to come at least partially fill that void that surrounds him for lack of ability to overtly invite. Sometimes this is someone he knows, sometimes it isn't.

As time wears on, he looks at the ground more than people, looks at his shoes more than faces, trying to focus on something known only to himself. Or so he might think. It's obvious how sickness of the heart wears on a person, even one as old and experienced as Albert Heinrich.


3. Tinkering (Closed; for Sigma)
It's not long before they come for Albert too.

There are no drugs involved for him because they're not needed; direct control isn't necessary when they have what they know is dearest to Albert's heart under a proverbial gun, ready to have the trigger pulled the second he misbehaves. So he goes quietly, under guard, to the facility's infirmary.

He's not sure why, he feels fine, but instead of a doctor they bring in someone who's clearly an engineer, small precision tools and a work apron instead of sanitary whites and needles. For Albert, it's just as bad anyway. He's tense the entire time, even if he lets the man at his arms and legs without complaint, poking and prodding with the same manner as one would go at a leaky sink. He's not a person here, even less so than the cog he was in Thirteen. Here he's barely even an appliance.

Albert attempts to distract himself as the man whistles through his teeth thinly and tunelessly, the cyborg's eyes wandering to whoever else may be in this part of the facility. He doesn't recognize most, but one individual catches his eye, someone who before he was taken to Thirteen, Albert would have readily shot on sight given half the chance.

Sigma Klim.

Now, the German's eyes meet the other cyborg's and plead silently and faintly for a moment, an intervention despite Sigma's clear need for repair himself. And maybe that would be a good distraction, a way to get this man to leave Albert alone, repair Sigma, and then leave, letting the two old men if not talk, then at least breathe without a third unknown hanging over their heads so directly.

Comments

[futilecycle]

Sigma clears his throat, diverts his eyes as though embarrassed to be seen through - but the corner of his mouth curls into a knowing smirk. Don't mention it. Albert had already paid him a similar favor, after all. He senses a solidarity connecting them that he cannot explain, something beyond the crucible of cybernetics. Perhaps it was that Sigma knew how it felt to choose between a calling and a lover? His expression settles, cybernetic eye whirring nervously.

The prospect of becoming a Capitol wind-up toy makes Sigma almost sick to his stomach, so he decides he might focus on making a once-ally a permanent one. "Albert Heinrich. ...I saw your husband," he begins tentatively. For the first time between them, his voice is soft. "It is a shame. I understand how difficult it is to be separated, truly." And this, too, is the only way he can voice his condolences with the proverbial microphone at his neck and a gun to his head. He dares not study Albert's expression. There are some things that strangers are not supposed to see.

[silberfuchs]

Perhaps that is part of the tie that minds them, the sacrifices they've made. They can understand one another on a wordless level. When this is all over, if they're both left alive, Albert intends to put words to it. To air everything out. For now, he just has to trust that the unquantified connection is enough.

"I've seen him, too." He'd refused to cooperate until they allowed him to see Jet, something that Albert knew would be easier for them to acquiesce to than deny him out of spite. It gave them leverage regardless; he'll be careful, for Jet's sake. He'll do many things for Jet's sake, and the Capitol can use that.

"Thank you, for your sympathy. I know I was adverse to it before but I've had a change of heart, considering the state of things." Doublespeak. He's never been any good at it, but he hopes Sigma takes it how he means, that he apologizes for not seeing where the other cyborg's loyalties truly lay before, and that the Capitol listening in takes it as a sign of humility. "Like you, I've seen better where I should be."

I'm here now, I might as well use it to the Rebellion's advantage.

[futilecycle]

Sigma is good at wearing a mask, but not so much at being impenetrable - the instant Albert finishes talking the tension in the old Doctor's body seems to drain into the cot. How long had it been since someone had reached their hand out to him? Now that a burden has been lifted from his shoulders, he realizes he'd started drowning months ago.

Thankfully, becoming comfortable is nothing incriminating, and Sigma falls easily back in step. He nods sagely, message received. "I understand what you mean," he answers carefully. "When it comes to one's family, a man may trick himself into believing anything. But the truth reveals itself..." His gaze falls on Albert heavily. What Sigma had done to the Initiate was monstrous and he places no blame on Albert's outrage. "I am thankful we have the opportunity to work from the same side. Surely, now, we shall see a swift resolution..." If it was a God who chose their fate, he wished he could appeal to them, wish nothing but the best for this man who had saved him twice.

blarg typos. I need to proofread better.

[silberfuchs]

Sigma going practically boneless is not lost on Albert. He's a self-styled student of people, having learned long ago you can take in a lot about them just by watching, and so he's become very good at reading most. What looks on camera to be an old man getting comfortable in a medical bed is a clear physical sigh of relief to the German cyborg.

He's a bit sorry he didn't reach out sooner, didn't realize the long game being played, but he's never had the mind for that sort of hidden thing. If he's to spy, he'll have to do it in a way that makes it look as if he's just following his usual patterns; Albert suddenly going pro Capitol and all smiles would be far more suspicious than his usual (and entirely earnest) restrained dislike. Which means not entirely reconciling with Sigma on the surface, making this conversation somewhat difficult. He supposes the nuance will be in how he talks of Sigma to others; if he's disparaging there, then it forms a context of Albert simply playing nice for his survival, true to form, and not necessarily incriminating the other man. He hopes it works, and he hopes too that Sigma understand that the opposite is true because Albert considers himself terrible at this kind of doublespeak.

At least it seams like Sigma understands the willingness to work together for the Rebellion.

"Family is paramount. And yes, sometimes that can blind us." He lets out a breath. "But also motivate us, as the Capitol is well aware. I'm willing to do my part to protect that, whatever part that may be."

Tell me what I can do.

I didn't even notice! :V

[futilecycle]

Sigma recognizes what Albert is asking and his eyes brighten with an enlightening thought. He had just awoken from death, and in his sensitive predicament, had no grand schemes in place. But there was one person who had sworn a loyalty to him that he could accept without guilt. One person who would be willing to work as a messenger to Albert when the time came to turn against their captors. "...Perhaps we can use your sentiment to our mutual advantage..."

Sigma dresses himself in the same fake smile his mentor wore to deceive. He finds himself no good at it, but it didn't matter. Albert wasn't the person he hoped to convince. "My biological daughter arrived in the fall of last year," he begins tentatively, careful to distinguish between his two female 'children.' Though the thought repulsed him, it was convenient for Sigma to superficially accept the Capitol's assumptions about Phi. He hopes Albert does ask after Eponine. Her loss left open wounds with which Sigma could not cope. "While she is my assistant, she has a fiery temper and a stubborn disposition. My concern is that she will allow her defiance to get the better of her and be taken in by some rebel with a sharp tongue. I need someone to keep her in line..." In other words, he had an agent, a relay. A person whom he was always around and never not in dialogue with.

He does not wish for anyone to assume he is volunteering Albert to babysit, to give without getting back, and continues with a dull, objectifying tone. "She is quite powerful, you know. A stronger esper than I by any measure. A woman who can foresee an infinite number of outcomes and choose the most favourable... I am certain that would be an asset for you, your husband, and the Capitol alike." He holds nothing but the highest regard for Phi, but the worst the Capitol assumed of him, the better off they were.

[silberfuchs]

Albert's tried not to think on Eponine much since she'd disappeared. It doesn't even really click for him that it's her Sigma means by omission when he pointedly says 'biological daughter.' It's awful of him, or so he'd think if he had the presence of mind to examine it, but it's a defense mechanism. He remembers her, of course, but he doesn't think of her often. He can't think of the dead and missing too often or the sheer volume of their number will threaten to drown him. The wording goes unaddressed.

"Of course. Perhaps someone with a similar misguided past could keep her from the wrong path." He shifts a bit, idly running his fingers over the seam that the mechanic who was in here earlier had been prodding at. "If she's as powerful as you say, it would certainly be a benefit."

Though it clearly makes him somewhat uncomfortable, the whole business of seeing the future, he has experience with that sort of discomfort. Ivan was that way for as long as Albert had known him and his foreknowledge had saved the cyborg team on more than one occasion. He knew there were others here too, Terezi chief among them in his mind, with similar skills. He didn't usually utilize them, but if Sigma's daughter has access to her powers and is willing to use them for the benefit of the Rebellion, Albert would be a fool not to use every avenue available to him. Especially now, when he's as hamstrung as ever.

But he remembers the cameras, remembers that a sudden change of heart to the Capitol regarding his relationship with Sigma would be ridiculously suspicious, and Albert's forced to put on an affected smirk that's only shades away from a sneer. "Haven't changed though, I see. Still ever trying to be ahead of the game to strongly that even your own daughter is a tool."

[futilecycle]

Sigma hides his sigh inside a laugh, quiet and restrained. Albert was right to throw his mess in his face; the Doctor was not the only man entitled to put on a show. The accusation stings, nonetheless, because it is true. Sigma closes his eyes, unable to look at Albert, the mechanism of his cybernetic eye shut tight.

“And you still think you are better than me," he chides sharply, following the script. “There is a reason people like you remain Tributes and soldiers. None of you who have not helmed the Gamemaker's console are capable of imagining what it took to get there..."

He drums his cybernetic fingers on the edge of his cot, not unlike how he had once tapped them along a deathtrap. Moving his fingers made him remember that he was in control of his own body. His... body. “We called Gamemakers 'Zeros,' where I am from. There was nothing we were not expected to sacrifice for the good of our world. It was my mentor- the ‘Zero' before me- who made me understand that I was selfish to weigh my feelings against the needs of the many. Do not dare to think me cold. You could not begin to understand how much I love my children...”

When he finds he has stopped lying, Sigma opens his organic eye to stare at the ceiling in stunned, fearful silence. There is one other reason he would like Albert to follow Phi. He thought he might like it if she were rescued before the end, if Thirteen would steal her away before the Capitol was razed with him inside it. She would refuse, resist with all her might, but Albert... Albert would know what to do. There is no doubt. "This is all for the sake of something greater than me," he decides.

[silberfuchs]

It wasn't meant as a true accusation, just a layer of cooling animosity for the cameras to allay suspicion, but Albert can tell he landed more than a glancing blow even before the retaliation comes. When it does, there's little enough Albert can do to brace himself for it besides let his face lose expression, mouth pressed in a thin line.

But in as much as Sigma's words are right on a level Albert doesn't want to acknowledge - he does consider himself Sigma's better, at least morally, when he has no real reason to do so. He's taught children to use weapons, tried to kill his own family, bent or even broke under strain he should have borne for their sake, and killed in cold blood with little remorse. How is he better in any way? - they are telling. Sigma loves, deeply and strongly. It's obvious in his phrasing, in his tone, in how it resonates with Albert's heart in the same depths he keeps himself. Love of family and the necessity of doing what it takes - anything it takes - to protect them.

He doesn't have to say he wants his daughter away from this place. It's a given, in the same way that if Albert could find a way to get Jet out, he would. Only he's restrained by the promise he'd made to not make decisions for Jet without his input. This daughter of Sigma's, at least, he has no such bargain with.

"Greater than any of us. It isn't about individuals, I've come to see that." They have to work together, on this side and the other, or they're going to lose everyone.