Archive of Our Own ^beta

The name on his wrist was written in close letters. Through Project Freelancer Wash kept a close eye on how Connie wrote, it was thin cursive. Maine's writing was big and blocky. York's was messy but not in that smushed together way. North's was tall. South's letters were all capital. Carolina wrote neatly, letters spaced evenly. Yes, he was disappointed. He tended to hide the name, brushing off questions. North did the same but when they would lay in bed together Wash could see the name on North's skin. It was written in loopy cursive and it sure as hell didn't say David. He snuck peeks at Maine's arm too at various points. The lack of name is what gave Wash the final hints in confirming that Maine was aromantic. He was fine though. He would meet his soulmate eventually. 

It was just..lonely sometimes. Sometimes he was angry. He would itch at the name, half wanting it to peel off. He was 22 and sometimes he'd be scared he'd never meet his soulmate. Sometimes he felt like he wouldn't make it out a mission alive. He always did though and when he would lay in bed, pressed up against North's side he would trace the name. Only after he was sure North was asleep.

Lavernius.

He would sigh against North's shoulder before he fell asleep and then repeat it the next day. Out of habit he would rub a thumb over the name when he was nervous. When he was in armor he would still do it, even if it was less effective. No one mentioned it though and when North noticed he would just kiss Wash's forehead and force a smile. It was the smile that felt like a kick to the gut to Wash.

Although, he found himself missing the smile a bit as he saw North's body on the ground. There was blood on his armor and Wash felt his stomach roll. He just carried on with what his mission was though. It was better this way. North was not his soulmate, this was his chance to move on.

When he became part of the Blue Team he admitted he missed North's pampering just a bit. He also missed the excitement he used to hold for meeting his soulmate. Because when he heard Tucker's name for the first time all he could feel was sorry.

Sorry that the poor guy was stuck with him. Of all people.

The worst part was whenever Tucker would bring up his soulmate. He'd grumble affectionately about the guy he..hasn't met.

"That asshole better hurry up and come woo me before I get killed."

Wash hated watching the way Tucker would trace the name on his wrist over morning coffee, like it was so normal. The handwriting was messy and too familiar to Wash. His chest would tighten and he would have to turn away, sipping his own coffee. He always wore long sleeves. Tucker never did. Sometimes Wash couldn't even look at him. The name seemed like it was too vibrant. It was normal though. It was normal to dream about your soulmate. But whenever Wash saw the name he just locked up.

David.

Seeing that name was..well, strange. Wash didn't really associate himself with it. He wasn't really David. He hadn't been for a while.

But really, Wash swore the worst part was that he could never make himself say anything. He left Tucker in the dark because he was selfish.

These were the thoughts that passed through his head as he hit the ground. Carolina had used the future cube to get them out because Felix had turned on them. The bullet hit him before they were out of there though. He collapsed and suddenly there was a panic. Tucker was crouching beside him and Grey rushed over. She pulled off her helmet and Wash wished she hadn't. The doctor made a pained expression and Wash was suddenly aware there was more then one bullet in him and his vision was swimming and he was already dying. 

Grey got to work instantly, pulling off Wash's armor. He tried not to be nervous and when his helmet was pulled off he met Tucker's eyes. Soon his armor was piled around them and Carolina was rounding everyone else up to give them space. She said nothing to Tucker. She knew about the name. Of course she did, Tucker never shut up. But Carolina never dropped Wash's first name.

Wash tried not to be flustered as his undersuit was peeled off and Emily really got to work removing the bullets, leaving Wash in only boxers. Wash focused on Tucker's face, fingers fumbled across dirt and he poked at Tucker's fingers. The teal soldier pulled off his helmet and ran his armor-clad fingers over Wash's lightly. Wash forced a smile at the motion. Maybe Tucker knew somewhere deep down Wash was his soulmate. Maybe he felt it as their fingers brushed. Either way Wash ignored the pain as Emily worked on his wounds, weakly turning his arm over.

Tucker's gaze flickered to Wash's arm and then he brushed a finger over the name there. His gaze moved back to Wash's eyes and Wash nearly flinched from the pure anger in his gaze.

Lavernius.

"You asshole!" The words were less effective as Tucker grabbed at his hand. The armor was hard against Wash's palm but he gave Tucker's hand a squeeze. Not only was he angry, Wash swore he was about to cry. "You fucking asshole!"

"Yeah, sorry."

"You could have told me! Why didn't you fucking tell me!" Tucker ignored him and Emily looked up nervously before continuing her work. She didn't bother telling Tucker to move and give her more room.

"It was better if I didn't." Wash said, trying to smile to lighten the mood. He couldn't tip his lips high enough. Tucker was shaking his head.

"Why not? I could have-We could have.." Tucker didn't have an unarmored hand to rub the tears off his face. "We could have been..I don't know. Kissing or holding hands or.."

The barely there smile Wash held dropped off his face. All Tucker wanted was his soulmate. Wash knew he had been selfish but suddenly he couldn't even justify it. Tucker needed someone to place light kisses along his brow, or to trace patterns on his back, or to rub their thumb over the back of his hand. And Wash hadn't done that. He could have though. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it right after. There was nothing he could say to make this better.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tucker's voice was strained and Wash stared nervously at his nose.

"Because.." Wash floundered for words. "I'm..Tucker, listen, I'm not. I'm not..good enough." 

The last sentence was breathed out in defeat. He had nothing else to say anymore.

"Not good enough? My god, Wash! You're the one who helped Caboose figure out how to make the blankets stay up for his fort! You're the one who made everyone a Thanksgiving dinner out of our rations! You're the one who makes coffee every morning! I know you're trying to say that you're some broken, terrible, soldier. But you better fucking believe me when I tell you that you are everything I want. You may be annoying and a dick but hell, I am too!" Tucker was frantic, gripping Wash's hand tightly. "So you better not die thinking that I am not in love with you. Whether you are my soulmate or not." 

Wash said nothing, his vision was swimming now, more than before and Emily was moving frantically. Weakly, Wash smiled up at Tucker and the teal soldier had never wanted to see him cry. But Wash was crying and coughing and there was blood around his mouth but Tucker was kissing him and it was disgusting but his hands held tightly onto Wash's shoulders as they kissed and Tucker was pulling away and Wash was mouthing something but there were no words. There were lines in Wash's shoulders, pressed in from Tuckers armor. And Tucker, he was spitting blood onto the dirt and Wash raised a hand to wipe some off his chin, all the while mouthing words.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Because Wash had loved the way Tucker spoke of Junior over coffee. Loved the way Tucker would hide his smile after Caboose told a joke. Wash was in love with how Tucker would sway to no music when he was sure Wash had left the room. Wash was in love with him.

Tucker was nodding as Wash mouthed the words. His shoulders shook with sobs and Emily had left moments ago because Wash was dying and she couldn't help him and she didn't want to intrude. 

Slowly Wash's mouth closed and he smiled before closing his eyes. Tucker fell back to sit flat on his ass as Wash lay lifeless in front of him. And god, this fucking sucked. His breaths were wheezed out and everyone was slowly approaching them.

No one ever told Tucker that Wash must have been in pain as he lay there, bleeding out. No one said that they could have shot him once he was too far gone, end it quick. 

Regardless, Tucker knew these things.