Chapter Text
“Whatcha doin’ Houndy?” Walter asked curiously from the bed. It was pissing rain outside, banging on the tin roof like bullets. Bloodhound was in nothing but their knickers and setting folded sets of clothing on their small dining table.
“Planning,” they hummed, pulling out three inhalers and setting them beside a pair of pants.
“For what?” He stretched out like a cat to a chorus of crunches and pops, then settled with a hollow thud against the mattress. The bed was in the corner, separated from the door by a set of bookshelves that went halfway down the built-in bedframe. From his vantage in the far corner, he could see most of Bloodhound’s house, and all of their near-naked body.
Usually, they never hesitated when telling him what they were up to, but this time, they did. He couldn’t see their face, but their hand, holding two rolled up bundles of socks, floated unsteadily over the other clothes for just a moment. If he didn’t know them as well as he did, he wouldn’t have caught it. “Just a hunt, mitt Walter.”
At that, Walter sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. He watched as they started packing more clothes. “Lot of stuff for a jaunt in the woods,” he said.
“Long jaunt,” they replied.
“I think if it’s long it ain’t a jaunt anymore, mate.”
They shrugged, humming. Now Walter was getting a little bothered. He and Hound, they had their own lives, their own things they did, outside of each other. But they usually had an idea what the other was up to; Bloodhound usually knew if he and Mary went out drinking, and he usually knew if they were on a hunt or something, that kind of thing. Being open and blunt had come naturally to their relationship. Walter didn’t expect perfect transparency all the time, but with the gear they were packing, and that they were suddenly avoiding the subject-well, it didn’t settle right with him. “You ain’t going to the woods, are ya.”
They glanced back. “What? I am.”
“These woods?” He gestured out the window at the surrounding forest.
“Ja.”
“Bloodhound.” He said, gathering their attention. He rarely used their full name anymore. When he had their eyes, he pointedly looked at their packing. “D’ya think I’m stupid?”
Their eyes got suddenly wide, and they held up their hands, waving them quickly. “What! N-no! No, no, no. Never. Where is this coming from?!”
Again, he gestured at their packing. “I can do basic math mate. We’ve gone huntin’ together, what, dozen or more times now? For you, that’s two weeks of clothes, and you got two back-up inhalers, so you’re plannin’ on being somewhere pretty far out. And that’s your big pack. The one you literally told me you only take if you’re going out longer than a week. So, you’re up to something.” He looked at them, realizing it as he said it. “And you were going to totally lie to me about it.”
They had frozen, hand covering their mouth. Those pretty green eyes all wide with a kind of expression Walter didn’t have a word for, besides maybe guilty. It almost made him feel bad, but that was just because it was Bloodhound. He scooted out of bed now, standing at the same height as them and crossing his arms over his chest. “What the hell, Hound?”
They visibly swallowed, scrunching up at the shoulders. “Um…I…” He waited. “I’m sorry,” they said at last, quietly.
“Uh-huh. You really didn’t expect me to say anything? You’re literally right there,” he nodded toward the table.
“I, um. I didn’t realize um.” They winced, hugging themself. “I…did not think you would pay that much attention.”
He rolled his eyes. “Your arse is great love, but not quite that distracting.”
They snorted, almost laughed. They turned away to keep putting together clothes; Walter said nothing because he’d figured out a while ago that Bloodhound preferred doing something with their hands when trying to have any sort of serious talk. And this was one of their more serious ones; Walter was really trying not to think about it too much, but the fact of the matter was they were hiding something, and they were lying about it. The more he thought about the lying, the more ruffled he got.
“I’m going to Talos.” They said, finally.
“Talos!” Walter exclaimed. “Hound, what the hell, mate?!” He didn’t need to add the reason behind the what the hell. Describing Talos as dangerous right now was an understatement.
They sighed. “Aaand that’s why I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“That makes it worse, you know?” He felt his temper flick on, suddenly mad as a cut snake. “We’re you seriously going to wait until, what, you were planet side and could be gone doing whatever the hell it is you’re wanting to do so I couldn’t stop you?”
Their silence betrayed the truth: that was exactly what they were going to do.
“Un-fucking believable.” Walter didn’t realize it, but he was raising his voice. “I’m your partner, aren’t I? What if you were hurt? Or went missing, and I couldn’t find your sorry arse?”
“Walter I-”
“No!” He swiped his shirt off the floor, pulling it on and walking past them to get his pants.
They stepped in front of the coat rack by the door. “Walter!”
He reigned in his voice just enough to stop himself from straight up shouting in their face, giving a barely controlled rumble of a “no, Hound.” He didn’t have the wherewithal to explain further how much he needed air, right now. He weaved around them, grabbed his coat off the rack so quickly it started rocking in place, and threw it over his shoulders. “I-fuck.” He looked at them, really looked at them for a second; their hands gathered up around their chest, their eyes not moving a centimeter from his face. They were scared. The madness deflated, enough that he could take a deep, steadying breath, and calmly button up his coat and pull up the hood. “I need a minute, Bloodhound.”
They watched him with some amount of caution, then slowly nodded. Their voice was soft when they spoke. “Be careful. The river could flood.”
“Yeah.” He stepped out of the door and managed not to slam it. His boots were on the porch, protected by the long eaves of the house. He pulled them on, tied them, and started walking, the sticky squelch of mud following each step.
He didn’t get mad often. Not like this, at least, at people he really cared about. Always hated the feeling, hated the ick it spread through his limbs. He could never understand how Mags handled it roaring through her all the time, but that was probably why they had gotten along. Neither of them were exactly good but they balanced each other’s worst traits. And they weren’t always good mates to each other, hindsight let him admit that, but they always looked out for each other regardless. And thinking about that, right now, made him ache.
Used to be, if they weren’t living together, he could drop by her place after a row with whatever partner he had at the time. She’d hand him a beer and let him scream his head off if he wanted to, kick furniture. One time he dented her wall (and broke his hand) over a girlfriend that cheated on him. He let her do the same, though that only happened a couple of times since Mags, to quote, “don’t think with my teke.”
He wasn’t such a hot head anymore. Learned how to deal with his temper when it did rise up, like right now. But damn did it make him miss Mags. It was better than thinking about Bloodhound right now. He loved them, he really did, but lying was probably the thing he hated the most in any kind of relationship. He probably shouldn’t have snapped, or at least asked them why they were going before he did. But what was done was done, and he’d gotten out before saying or doing something he’d really regret.
He changed course toward the river. He and Bloodhound had looked at it during rainstorms before, from a far distance. Ketil was probably there anyway, watching from up in a tree with a walkie-talkie and a whistle, ready to radio the village in case of a flash flood; the whistle was for anyone nearby that might miss a broadcast. Ketil himself put trust in the sturdy oak tree he perched in.
As he thought, Ketil was there, and upon seeing Walter, waved. Walter waved back. They didn’t talk, they never did, and most of the village thought he couldn’t understand them anyway. So, he settled against a tree a few paces ahead of Ketil. The water was high, over the riverbank but just barely. Brown water, churning rapidly, even faster under the surface. He picked up a stick, chucked it in the water, and watched it vanish in a blink, not emerging again until it was several dozen yards downstream. He shivered and pulled his hood further over his head.
He wasn’t scared of much in life, but losing Bloodhound and falling into that stream were high up on his list.
He wasn’t sure how long he was standing out there, but he figured it must have been a while when he heard footsteps and looked back to see Bloodhound. He was right, at least; the walk, some fresh air and time to think, it had tempered his anger considerably. Still felt raw, though. “Hey, Hound.”
Bloodhound nodded to him, then looked up at Ketil and nodded to the side, indicating they should walk away from prying ears. Walter nodded and walked alongside them until they were a good hundred yards away, not out of eyesight, considering the river, but out of earshot. They stood and faced each other. Bloodhound had dressed quickly, shoving pajama pants into boots and probably not wearing a shirt under their long coat. In the overcast light, he could see they’d cried. That hurt.
“I should not have tried to lie to you.” They said, surprising him. They hadn’t had a lot of arguments, and he was pretty sure nothing like this before, but Bloodhound tended not to apologize first regardless.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you.” Walter replied.
They shook their head. “Don’t. It was understandable.” They cleared their throat. “And I will admit made me realize ah, how horrible my idea was.”
He almost laughed. “Maybe. Still.”
They shrugged. Shifted their feet. “I…I did not want to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry, and because I thought if you knew I was going to Talos…you’d try and talk me out of it.”
Walter thought on that. “You’re not wrong love. But ya ever consider I’d want to know why, first?”
“The why. Yes.” They actually did laugh, a little puff of it. “You always ask. I am foolish to think you would not. There is a place, deep on Talos, that I want to go to. That I am going to go to, before it is gone, if it is still there. A cave.”
Walter raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“It was a good place for me. For…for my family.” They held out their hands, scarred and becoming ruddy from the rare Solace chill. “My mother, father, uncle and I, we all went there when I was very little. It was the only time they ever all got along, I actually remember it because of that. And Uncle Artur took me every year after they passed. He said it was spiritually important. And some other things I do not quite remember.” They frowned, not looking at him entirely. “I wish I would have listened better.”
Walter closed his eyes. Of course, they had a good reason to go to Talos, it was Bloodhound. “Jesus, Houndy. I’d never stop you from doing something like that.”
They took a deep breath, tucking their hands into their pockets as the rain began to increase. “I realize that now. I don’t know where I got the idea that you would, really.” They said this with a nervous chitter to their voice, gripping at the insides of their pockets. “And I apologize for it. I did not want you to worry, and I did the opposite. I hid, instead of talk. This whole argument is because I’m stupid.”
“Quit that.” Walter said on reflex.
“I think I can call myself stupid this time.”
Walter pretended to mull it over. “Yeah, alright, this round you earned it. And I’m a bit of a dick.”
“Shush. You, ah, what’s the term? You freaked out, but I…was telling you I’m going to run off to an exploding planet on my own, so, fair!”
He finally did laugh. “Yeah, alright! I think we’re both, y’know, reactin’ alright for the situation.” He felt lighter. This whole thing was stupid, and Bloodhound always learned, and he hoped he could say the same for himself. So, he re-routed his focus. “Alright. So, you wanna go on a dangerous excursion to visit a cave on Talos. Nothin’ else?”
“Basically.” They said. “I stopped visiting so frequently after…after my uncle died. I try not to think of it too much, which is why I never said anything before. It is one of the few places in my life that has only good memories. Only one, really.” They smiled, but it was pained. “I realized recently how long it has been since I went. Many years. So, I want to. I need to go. One last time.”
Walter frowned, raising a hand up to their cheek where he gently brushed his thumb over the distinct, aged scars that spread over most of their face, like little bolts of lightning. He made his decision before he spoke. “I’m coming with you. You can go in the cave alone if you want, but wherever the hell you’re going on this trip, I’m one step behind you, Houndy.”
Tears started welling up in their eyes again; they did their best to blink them away. “I…it is a very long, dangerous trip, Walter.”
“All more reason for me to go, mate.” He said. “It’s one thing to go runnin’ off for, what, a week?”
“Two weeks.”
“Two weeks, on your own in some critter infested hellscape ya know like the back of your hand when it’s stable. But it ain’t stable anymore, mate. If something happens, I don’t like the idea of you facin’ it alone. Even though you can kick everybody’s ass three ways to Sunday.”
They held his hand against their face and grabbed his other with their free hand. “I…You make a good point. Come with me, ja?” They smiled, just slightly. “Even if it’s mostly walking and freezing, two weeks with you, and the cave…perhaps it would make a good final memory for the place.”
He returned the smile, not saying how much he was not looking forward to the snow, but being part of a good memory for Bloodhound made up for it. Besides, he was always looking for something new to try. He pulled them closer, kissing their forehead then resting his against theirs. “Let’s do it. Make a proper plan and shit.” He glanced to the side. “After we get back to the house.”
Bloodhound glanced with him, at the river that was suddenly pouring over the ground, visibly rising in front of their eyes. “Hm. Yep. House first.” They held his hand firmly and, together, they ran, Ketil’s whistle echoing behind them.
--
The ensuing flash flood gave the couple ample time to plan together, jokingly calling the trip ‘The Expedition’. The cave was a little over a week’s travel from New Dawn, meaning two weeks of travel there and back. Bloodhound was originally going to cut through a meadow that would take a day off but conceded to Walter’s insistence of the path around it, as the area was less and less stable since Hammond started mining. It added a day of travel, but it’d be worth the peace of mind, even with Bloodhound whinging that the clearing was just fine and wasn’t like it would be a lava pit. Walter was firm, though, after looking at the other map of Hammond mining centers outside of New Dawn.
The biggest hazard, outside of that and some minor earthquakes, would be the freezing weather, and prowlers, but to Walter and Bloodhound, they were speedbumps. Goliaths were hibernating this time of year, so they didn’t have to worry about those either. Walter wasn’t looking forward to snow, he’d never hiked in it really, but, hell. They were out on an adventure at this point. They set themselves up to leave that weekend when the weather was supposed to be reasonable.
He told Maggie about the trip on the dropship. She looked at him like he said he’d decided to take up knitting. “You are goin’ on a hike through the snow on an exploding planet?”
“That hard to believe?”
She snorted. “Ain’t hard to believe you’d go on some expedition for a new piece, nah. Snow’s catchin’ me though.”
He glared. “They aren’t a new piece, Mags.”
“Mhm. You come back in one piece after spendin’ two weeks freezing your kiwis off in the woods, I’ll believe ya. Hell, I’ll dance a jig.”
“Bet on that?”
“Not on your life, cunt.”
He snorted, leaning against the wall beside her. It’d never be like it used to, but they had started getting along better since he read that bloody letter she sent before she was supposed to die, technically for the second time. They’d gotten a little chummy, he supposed, though it was hard not to when you know each other practically from the cradle. It was easy to fall back into step sometimes. It was also easy to notice new things, like the pin on the inside of Maggie’s jacket when she pulled it back to grab her pack of smokes from the inside pocket. “What’s that?”
“Huh?” She nudged him, holding the cigarette between her lips. He tossed her his lighter; the Syndicate would let her buy cigarettes in prison, and smoke them on the ship, but wouldn’t ever give her a light.
“The pin, mate.” He nodded. “New one.”
She lit her cigarette. “Eh, found it on the ground.”
“What’s it say?” She opened her jacket again, thumb obscuring the bottom half of the pin. It was blue, with VIOLENCE on it in big letters. He nodded and she closed her jacket again. Bullshit you found that on the ground, he thought. Syndicate didn’t let her have any of her normal clothes in the prison, and no way they’d let anything vaguely sharp in there, either. In the Games? Pshaw, they combed all of their maps.
“Wanna make a bet, Mags?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’re you on about, Wally?”
He thought for a second. “I come back in one piece, you tell me where ya really got that pin.”
“Hmph.” She looked thoughtful. Mags always liked a good wager. “I’ll make a bet with you, but not on that. I’ll tell you where I got it if you bring me somethin’ I’ve never seen before. If you don’t, I’m tellin’ your little sweetheart ‘bout that time in Matakana.”
“They already know you saved my stupid arse.”
“No, the other time. With the spandex shorts.”
Walter’s eyes widened. He wasn’t embarrassed about much…but that story still made him want to crawl in a hole. What had Mags never seen before that was on Talos? Probably a plant or something. If they were (un)lucky, they could run into a goliath, he could get a horn. There were some other critters around too, though. Probably could get a trophy somewhere. He glanced at her again, at her jacket, getting an inkling that there was something there. Walter was a curious man, and prone to taking risks that wouldn’t necessarily pay off. So, he held out his hand. “Alright, bet.”
They shook on it.
That weekend he and Bloodhound were on a transport to New Dawn. They each had large packs with a few changes of clothes, enough rations for three weeks, flashlights, headlamps, solar batteries, flare gun, tents, sleeping bags, a gun each, bullets, hunting knives, climbing gear, the list went on. Artur stayed on Solace; rarely did Bloodhound leave him behind, but there was quite frankly no room for him in the tent, and it got too cold at night to leave him outside. And he would fuss if he felt Walter wasn’t walking fast enough.
They hit New Dawn and had an easy time crossing the destroyed city into the nearby wilderness. There they put on all the gear they would need; thick thermal pants, boots, fur lined coats, hats, gloves. Bloodhound was essentially wearing thicker versions of their usual Apex gear, minus some of the body armor. It was winter on Talos, and even with it fracturing at the seams, spurting lava into the most unlikely places, it was freezing-arse cold.
“Regretting this already?” They teased him lightly.
“Naw, why’d you say that?” He stamped his feet until the boots felt right, then tucked in his pants. He had never worn so many damn clothes in his life.
“You look, hm. Displeased.”
“That’s because it’s freezing.”
He could hear the smile in their voice. “It only gets colder, mitt Walter.”
“Uh huh,” he patted the pockets of his pack, making sure his water was in the side pocket, and his jerky in the other. Then he processed what they said. “Wait it gets colder?!”
Bloodhound laughed aloud. “Let us start the walk.”
Walter shook his head, wondering if he would keep his balls the whole way. “Let ‘The Expedition’ begin, Houndy.”