#captainkonut

[secretlystephaniebrown]

I’ll See You in the Drift

Michael Caboose's world fell apart when his partner Church was lost in the drift. But when Caboose turns out to be drift-compatible with Tucker, he might have a second chance to fix what once went wrong.

Hey! What's up, it's my first posting for the RvB Reverse Big Bang!

I had the absolute pleasure of working with @captainkonot on this project! You can find the comic they drew here, it's absolutely gorgeous and it was such a delight working with them! Check out the rest of their work if you haven’t already, its all fantastic. 

Pacific Rim AUs are my JAM so I had a blast writing this; I hope to come back to this AU again, because I think there's a lot of potential and so much story still to tell! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Thanks to my dear friend @sroloc--elbisivni for beta-ing this for me!

Also on Ao3

Outside of Sheila, the storm crashed and howled. The waves were nearly up to Sheila’s shoulders, each one roaring as it moved around the jaeger and its enemy. The kaiju they were fighting was huge; bigger than any of the ones that Caboose had seen before. Bigger than the one that Caboose and Church had killed last month, surely. Had Dr. Grey said what kind it was before they had gone out? Caboose couldn’t remember.  

Church’s mind was twined with Caboose’s, comforting and present in a way that helped slow down his racing heart.

<Focus,> Church whispered in his mind, and Caboose’s concerns melted away, replaced by the laser precision that happened when he drifted with Church. <We can do this.>

Caboose nodded, and the acknowledgement carried through the drift to Church, even though he wasn’t looking at Caboose. They stepped forward in unison, and Sheila moved with them, plowing through the turbulent sea like it was nothing but bathwater.

Church pulled his arm back for an attack. Caboose couldn’t see it, but he felt it, like Church was pulling his arm back too.

Sheila hummed beneath them as she moved, the power from her core filling Caboose with that familiar reassurance.

They were in the drift, in their jaeger. It was all going to be fine.

<Caboose!>

Caboose blinked and moved quickly, raising his own arm to block the jaeger’s blow. The force made his knees buckle, but he didn’t falter. People were depending on him. He was a jaeger pilot, and there was responsibility there.

<Come on, buddy,> Church said, and Caboose could feel his fondness through the drift. <Let’s kick his ass.>

Caboose smiled, and brought up one of his legs, striking out just like Sarge had taught him. Sheila’s leg made a connection with the kaiju, sending it stumbling backwards. For a moment its head ducked beneath the surging waves, but it resurfaced quickly. Church let out a shout, vocally instead of through the drift, and Caboose felt a wave of joy flow through their connection, although he wasn’t sure if it had originated from .

And then everything went wrong.

The kaiju rushed forward, and before they could react, it was on top of them. It was faster than they had expected, recovering quickly from the blow that Caboose had dealt it. Caboose and Church struggled to regain their balance and fight back, but there was no time as claws raked  against Sheila’s armor, filling the air with the awful sound of ripping metal.

“Church!”

Caboose was thrown backwards. Blood trickled down his face.

“Caboose!” Church grabbed him, physically by the arm. The drift was full of fear and hurt and Caboose couldn’t make out Church’s face very well, but he also looked bad.  

The kaiju screamed outside, and Caboose screamed as the claws sunk into the wall right in front of them, tearing through the armor like it was nothing.

For a moment, Caboose saw a face with too many teeth, too many eyes, too many everything.

The next thing he knew, Church had thrown him down, and then—

Pain.

White hot pain flooded Caboose as Church was ripped out of the drift. Caboose was screaming for both of them, screaming louder and harder than he ever had before, because his brain was on fire, because everything hurt, because Church was hurting and so Caboose was hurting and—

Nothing.

The connection had been severed.

Caboose stood up on shaky legs. He was all alone in his head, feeling raw and hurt and empty.

“You killed Church!” he heard himself screaming. Tears were streaming down his face and he could taste blood.

Caboose didn’t control the sword. That was not his job. That was Church’s job. But when he moved his arm, the sword moved with him.

Church was not here. Sheila was around him, and she felt heavy. She felt so, so heavy.

Caboose felt like he was heavy too. His head hurt a lot, and every single movement was an agony, but he kept going, and going, and...

The monster had stopped screaming. It was cold and wet and dark, and Caboose was alone in the dark. He didn’t like the dark. He didn’t like any of this. There was water around him, and metal. He couldn’t see anything.  

He fell to the ground, curling up on his side. The water was by his feet, moving slightly. The storm seemed to be over, but Caboose didn’t care. Everything hurt, it hurt a lot, and he didn’t know what to do now. He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep.

<Caboose, don’t fall asleep, don’t you dare! Stay awake, you hear me?>

<Church?> He was tired, he was so, so tired, why wouldn’t Church let him sleep?

<Shut up, Caboose. It’s going to be fine, you hear me? You’re going to be fine. They’re coming for you, buddy, they’re coming.>

<Why can’t I see you?>

<Don’t you dare die on me, okay, don’t you dare—>

“We found him!”

Sunlight flooded the room, and Sarge was there. His suit was red, like he always liked it to be, because—Caboose couldn’t remember why. But the red was important. Just like blue was important to him.

“Caboose! You’re alive! And you killed the kaiju, attaboy, now where’s your partner, let’s get you out of here—” Arms surrounded Caboose, helping him to his feet. He shook as someone else took his other side, helping him stand up. It was someone in a pink suit, who was saying lots of things very fast.

“He’s—” Caboose turned his head. He had just heard Church’s voice, he should be right there.

But there was no one else in the jaeger. There was a hole in the front, where a kaiju’s claws had ripped it open.

Church’s helmet, cracked and bloody, was lying on the ground.

Tucker really had been just a kid when the kaiju had arrived. Things had been... different then. There’d been high school and girls and sometimes guys. When he’d thought about his future, he’d talked about college, not the Jaeger Academy or the Pan Pacific Defense Corps.

Detroit was pretty far from the coast. It wasn’t great, it wasn’t perfect, but it was home at the very least. They were pretty far removed from everything when the kaiju hit San Francisco, but Tucker still remembered it vividly. Every moment had been staring at the televisions, at phones, watching as the world as they’d known it fell apart.

That very first kaiju attack was six days of pure terror, with people constantly wondering if they even could kill the damn thing. Three whole cities, evacuated and destroyed, as the creature stormed up and down the coast.

And when it finally was killed, more of them followed. There was attack after attack, and the whole world seemed to realize, for the first time, that they really couldn’t fix this problem.

Suddenly, the coast became a lot cheaper to live on, even the East Coast, where no kaiju had come through. No one wanted to be near the water. But everyone wanted to live inland, far away from the kaiju. And suddenly, places like Detroit became a lot more desirable to the kind of people who had a lot of money.

Tucker’s family held on as long as they could, but slowly but surely, they and the rest of their neighborhood were inched out. And out. Until one day Tucker knew they were one move away from being able to see the ocean, and he decided that if he was going to die in a kaiju attack someday, he wanted to go down fighting.

He signed up for the Jaeger Academy a few days later.

When he’d signed up, he’d have thought that if he passed, everything would be great. Everyone saw jaeger pilots on the news. They were celebrities, rock stars, and they got to fight the good fight. Punching aliens and getting laid for it seemed like there would be no downsides.

That was at least, until he realized where he was being assigned.

Blood Gulch Dome was the worst of the worst. It was up north, far away from most of the main kaiju attacks, so there was less money and fewer jaegers to go around.

They had exactly one kill to their name when Tucker arrived. And about a month into his orientation, things started going from bad to worse.

Battle Scorpion, the only jaeger Blood Gulch had, went down hard in a fight. It took out the kaiju in the process, but it was pretty badly damaged.

But it had killed half of the team, and hurt the other pretty badly.

Shit was... well, it was pretty fucked from the start. But there were other bases on standby, ready to help if there was a kaiju spotting, while Sarge stepped up their recruitment efforts and tried to get more money to try to fix Battle Scorpion, or better yet, money for a new jaeger.

But even with that going wrong, Tucker wasn’t too pessimistic. The jaeger would be fixed or replaced soon, and the other bases were winning their own fights.

Plus, the people here weren’t all that bad.  

There was Sarge, who ran the dome. He’d been a pilot once, Tucker could remember seeing him on the news. A pilot and an engineer, who’d helped design jaegers as well as pilot them. Now, he was old, but he still ran around, acting like he was a hotshot pilot, ordering everyone around and trying to keep things under control.

Kai was the other rookie, like Tucker. They were supposed to be drift-compatible, but... things hadn’t quite worked out that way. And they weren’t drift-compatible with anyone else on base either, which worried both of them more than they liked to admit. If they weren’t even drift-compatible, what were they supposed to do when Battle Scorpion was finished and they needed a team?

Simmons was their expert on the Breach. A kaiju attack had injured him pretty badly a few years back, but his mechanical limbs didn’t slow him down much, even if they were pretty eye catching.

Grey was his counterpart, their local kaiju expert. She spent a lot of time in the lab, digging through the corpses of fallen kaiju, trying to figure out how they worked better. Budget cuts meant that she was also their doctor, which Tucker was never quite sure how he felt about. She was a good doctor and all, but after one too many times of walking in on her standing in a hollowed out cranial cavity, it was pretty hard to think of her as someone who was qualified to give him cold medicine.

Donut was their mechanic who’s basically only job at that time was to try to fix the one jaeger the program had. It had been ripped up pretty badly in the kaiju attack which had killed one of the pilots and injured the other so bad that they didn’t think he’d ever drift again. He had Lopez for help, most of the time at least.

Lopez was a robot. Apparently he was Sarge’s creation when Sarge had tried to prove that robots could drift with humans. He’d obviously failed, and the robot was mostly just a machine which spouted Spanish phrases and helped Donut fix things, but sometimes...

Well.

Sometimes Tucker thought that Lopez was a little more human than he let on.

Grif was Kai’s brother. He did odd jobs around the base, napping whenever he could, and generally trying to stay out of everyone’s way.

But he and Tucker still drank beer together on Thursday nights. It was pretty good.

The word on everyone’s lips was Freelancer, the wealthy, swanky program right in the heart of things. Tons of kills and multiple pilots with their own jaegers. Freelancer was a beacon of hope for so long that Tucker almost forgot the first thing he’d learned in program.

Attracting too much attention was always dangerous.

No one really knew when things really started to go downhill. One day, things were fine. But then...

They started to lose.

Not just the Freelancers, but everyone. All over, the jaegers started losing. The kaiju were getting bigger and bigger, but also faster and smarter and quicker.

The day that Tucker knew things were only going to get worse was when O’Malley, one of the most successful jaegers ever, went down in a fight.

Because, the thing was, Tucker knew one of the pilots.

And if Tex was gone, well.

The rest of the world didn’t stand a chance.

There was a lot of buzz, filling the dome during that time. Apparently Sarge had known Tex too, during the start of things, before he’d been moved out to Blood Gulch to waste his days away in obscurity. Politics, Sarge would scream whenever people asked. Politics.

And politics were only getting worse. There was talk about ending the jaeger program, redirecting the funds. Some dumbasses wanted to build walls, hoping to keep the kaijus out.

Tucker didn’t really think the kaijus would ever really stop though.

At least not until the last of the Freelancer jaegers Memory Cliffs, had a malfunction and took out half of the dome, killing most of the administrative staff in the process.

The survivors were brought to Blood Gulch. All three of them.

Tex, as it turned out, had survived. But her partner had died in the drift, and she’d been comatose ever since. They weren’t sure if she was ever going to wake up.

Carolina and Washington had survived too, which would have been awesome news, except that whatever the fuck had happened to them during those last few days meant they couldn’t drift again.

And the Pan Pacific Defense Corps was due to vote on defunding the Jaeger Program at the end of the year.

Basically, everything was pretty damn fucked.

But... life went on. Just like it did after the first kaiju.

Tucker rolled out of bed, still tired. Ever since Sarge had let Wash and Carolina take over the training, he pretty much felt like he’d been pelted with rocks every time he woke up in the morning. Tucker was pretty sure that Wash and Carolina took way too much enjoyment out of making him and the other recruits sweat and suffer.

Wash and Carolina were going to put him through his paces all morning, working him until his calves ached and his arms felt like jelly. He had sparring this afternoon; Sarge kept finding all sorts of people for Tucker and Kai to try to be compatible with.

Before lunch though, Tucker made a quick stop at the infirmary.

Tex was exactly where she’d been the last time he’d visited her. Her hair was starting to get long, and all he could think about was how much she’d hate that. She liked to keep it short, buzzed on the back and sides, with only her bangs long. Now, it fell almost to her shoulders, a testament to how long it had been since she’d been able to hold a pair of clippers. He sat down next to her.

“Hey Tex,” he said. She didn’t move; pretty typical for a coma patient. But still, he made sure to leave a gap in his talking so that if she ever decided to stop lying around, she could respond. “Training again today. Your friend Carolina is seriously riding my ass, and not in the fun way, y’know? Too bad, she’s hot. Wash is hot too—is that like, a requirement of your program?” He carefully stayed in punching range, but she didn’t so much as twitch. “I hope you wake up soon,” he said. “We could—we could use you. A lot.”

Tucker shoved his hands in his pockets and left, hoping to avoid Grey. If he stuck around too long she’d talk to him about kaiju until his ears wanted to shrivel up and die. He was just here to help people, and maybe pick up some hot, interested people, not figure out why the kaiju from Seattle had three stomachs.

Lunch with Grif was followed by more training. After he made his way to the room, He picked up his staff and spun it around idly.

“Oh!”

Tucker looked up, and frowned. He recognized the guy by sight, if not by name. It was the janitor for the base. He was wearing a big blue jumpsuit, and was staring at the staff in Tucker’s hands like it was the greatest thing he’d ever seen. “I know how to use one of those! Can I play?”

Tucker glanced at the clock; there was fifteen minutes before training officially started. “Sure,” he said. He jerked his head towards the rack. “Help yourself!”

The janitor picked up one that was meant for his height; and held it delicately for a moment before becoming more sure, adjusting his grip. As he fell into position, facing Tucker, something seemed to shift in his body. Suddenly, Tucker realized that the guy was really tall, and pretty sturdily built.

“What’s your name?” he asked, falling into position too.

“I am Caboose! And you are Tucker,” Caboose grinned at him. There was something disarming about that smile. It threw Tucker off balance for a moment, not sure of what to make of it or the man wearing it, before Caboose suddenly started the drill.

And it was a drill, there was no mistaking it for anything else. Caboose had done this before; at least a thousand more times than Tucker had, that was for sure. Every blow of his staff had confidence and power behind it, shaking Tucker’s arms as he moved to block each strike.

But there was a rhythm to it that was almost hypnotic, one that Tucker found himself being drawn into. Strike, block, strike again, spin, turn, strike, block, jump. Swish, swish, thud. The world was slowing down, the rest of the room fading away, until all that was left was Caboose’s dopey grin, and the sound of their staffs.

Tucker had never felt anything like it before. He never wanted it to end. There was a rightness, seeping into his skin. He felt a connection with this guy; this random janitor who he’d been seeing around the base for as long as he could remember. Tucker didn’t have words for it, as he ducked low to avoid Caboose’s staff, adrenaline rushing through his veins. All he knew was that this, this was what had been missing, and he’d found it.

Finally, they stumbled apart, and Tucker stared at him, breathing heavily. “That was fucking badass,” he said. A wide grin was splitting his own face, mirroring the one on Caboose’s. They were both streaked in sweat, standing close to each other, leaning against their staffs. “Holy shit!”

A loud, single clap sounded from the other side of the room. Tucker spun around, and saw Carolina there. She was watching them, her bright green eyes glinting, and there was a knowing smile on her face. “Got to say,” she said, sounding satisfied with herself. “I was starting to think we’d run out of people on base before we found your drift partner.”

“Drift partner?” Tucker turned back to Caboose, incredulous. “Holy shit, did you—?”

But no one was there. The staff lay on the floor, abandoned, and Caboose was nowhere to be seen.

Caboose didn’t remember much about what happened after Church left.

Things were fuzzy, and Caboose just missed Church and so he stopped paying attention for a while. It was easier. Mister Sergeant said he could go to a hospital far away or he could stay but he’d have to make himself useful because those were the rules. He’d sounded sad as he said them, but he’d carefully held placed a hand on Caboose’s shoulder as he had explained things until he was sure Caboose had understood.

Caboose chose to stay. If he left, Church wouldn’t be able to find him when he came back. He couldn’t be a pilot anymore though, Doctor Grey explained to him when Caboose had gone to talk to her. Because Church had left, he couldn’t go in the drift right now, and Caboose had been hurt in the fight so she wasn’t sure it would be safe. Sheila was all broken too, but Donut said that he would make things better. Sometimes he let Caboose watch him fix her, spending long hours sitting on the ground by Donut while he worked.

So instead of being a pilot and fighting monsters with Church, Caboose cleaned things. He mopped floors and dusted rooms and changed light bulbs. Sometimes Grif helped, and that was nice, because Grif didn’t yell at Caboose or ask him what had happened with Church. Instead he napped or ate snacks, and sometimes he shared his food with Caboose if Caboose was having a really bad day.

Caboose didn’t mind the cleaning. Sometimes people were rude to him, but most people weren’t. And it was good to keep busy, until Church came back.  

“How are you doing buddy?” Washington was in the room that Caboose was cleaning now, and that was nice. Caboose liked Washington.

“Hello Pilot Washington,” Caboose said. “I am doing good! I do not have a headache today!”

Washington smiled at him. “That’s great, Caboose. Do you have another appointment with Doctor Grey soon?”

Caboose shrugged. “She will come and find me if I do,” he said.

It was true. Doctor Grey was always worrying about him; his headaches and his shoulder and his scars and his brain. She made him get in the metal tube a lot so she could make sure that his brain was okay, but Caboose didn’t mind too much. His headaches were happening less now, and Doctor Grey said that was a good sign.

“He’s clear, Wash,” Carolina said from behind Caboose. “I just checked with her.” She smiled at Caboose, and Caboose smiled back, because Carolina was Church’s sister even though he was not supposed to know about that because it was a secret, and so he liked her a lot. She wasn’t as good as Church, but she looked like him, and that was nice. She missed Church too, and that was also nice. Not enough people missed Church for Church. Most of them missed Church the pilot, not Church the friend.

“Hello Pilot Carolina!” He said.

“Hi Caboose,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, you know how we do those exercises sometimes to make sure your shoulder is healing properly?”

“Yes! I lifted up Simmons and he screamed! Like Washington’s cat did when I gave her a bath!”

Carolina made her quiet happy noise. “Yes. Do you want to go to the sparring room today? I’ve got a new exercise I’d like you to try.”

“Okay!” Caboose said, nodding eagerly. Exercising with Carolina was always fun.

“Alright,” she said. “Meet me there after lunch, okay?”

It had been a while since he had been to the sparring room. Grif usually cleaned it instead of him, because it made Caboose sad sometimes because he had spent a lot of time here with Church. But today he didn’t feel sad, just... drifty. He missed Church, but in a different way.

There was someone there, holding one of the staffs. Tucker, that was his name, names were important. He was friends with Texas and visited her a lot. That was nice of him. Caboose couldn’t visit Texas much because he got sad and tried to wake her up and that was against the rules. But it was nice that Tucker visited. Tex would probably get lonely, otherwise.

“I know how to use one of those! Can I play?”

They played the hitting game, just like Caboose had used to play with Church. It was different, but it was still fun. Tucker was stronger than Church, and maybe faster, but obviously Church was still better at it, and Caboose was stronger than Tucker.

But it made Caboose feel good, getting to play the game, getting to go through all of the old tricks that he’d learned. And Tucker had some ones which Caboose hadn’t seen before, and he wanted to try them for himself. It was fun.

It wasn’t until Carolina said “drift partner” that Caboose realized what the hitting game meant. He’d forgotten that part; it had just been a fun thing to do for a long time, a thing that he had done with Church, long after they’d been assigned together. But they wanted him to be partners with Tucker and to drive Sheila with Tucker, and Caboose didn’t like that.

So he left, because he didn’t need a new drift partner, he already had one, and it was Church. Church would come back soon and then he wouldn’t need Stupid Tucker and his staff.

And Church would come back, no matter what the others said. Because he had to.

“Caboose,” Carolina had found him very quickly. He wondered if Grif had told her his favorite hiding spots. The one Caboose had picked this time was under one of the walkways with the metal grates over it. She carefully shifted the grate so that she could climb down and join him.

“Hello Carolina,” he said. His face was wet and his nose was running, so she gave him a tissue. He blew his nose and then dropped it on the floor. He’d pick it up later, once he was less sad.  

“I’m sorry Caboose,” she said, sitting down next to him. “I didn’t realize you’d be upset.”

“I have a partner,” he said, crossing his arms. “And Church will come back soon.”

Carolina wouldn’t look at him. “No Caboose,” she said, very quietly. “He’s not. He’s lost in the drift, remember?”

“I heard him,” Caboose insisted. “He was still there.” None of them had ever believed him when he talked about that part. Doctor Grey had kept talking about hallucinations and Carolina had tried to talk to him about the rabbit, but Caboose knew better.

“Caboose...” She pressed a hand against his arm. “Church wouldn’t want you to not pilot forever. You love being a pilot, Caboose.”

“That is true,” Caboose admitted. He thought about the beautiful jaeger waiting in the docking bay, unused for a long time, and added loyally, “Especially Sheila.”

Carolina smiled at him. “Why don’t you try it? Maybe it will help.”

Caboose considered it carefully. If he said yes, maybe he’d get to spend time with Sheila, even though it probably wouldn’t work.

Because there was no way he could be drift-compatible with Tucker. He was already compatible with Church.

“Okay,” he said, almost feeling bad for Carolina because she really thought that this would work. “I will try.”

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Tucker told Wash. “The guy fucking ran away when he realized we were drift-compatible.”

“Caboose hasn’t drifted with anyone in a while,” Wash said patiently. They were walking through the hallways of the base, heading towards the docking station. They were going to do a dry-run of the drifting, just to make sure that they were right and they were actually drift-compatible. “Carolina just had to talk him down a bit.”

“That’s not exactly encouraging,” Tucker said, scowling a little to himself.

“Tucker...”

“I’m not backing out! I’m just saying the guy clearly doesn’t like me!”

“Caboose likes everyone, Tucker. I’m sure you two will get along just great.” Wash placed a hand on his shoulder. “Look. I know it’s hard for you. But Caboose has had a hard time too. Just... be easy on him, okay?”

“Whatever,” Tucker said, shrugging off Wash’s hand and striding forward, into the docking bay.

“Heeeey Tucker!” Donut bounded up to greet them, beaming widely. “I hope you’re ready to see how well you can handle my pride and joy!”

“Don’t worry dude, I’ll take good care of it,” Tucker said automatically, waggling his eyebrows. Donut laughed.

Battle Scorpion was still kind of beat up looking, but she was the most beautiful thing Tucker had ever seen. Donut had done a fantastic job repairing her, and upgrading her while he was at it.

“Impressive,” Wash said. “You did a good job, Donut.”

Donut waved his hand. “Oh Wash! That’s so sweet, I know it’s not nearly as big as yours, but it’s how you use it that really counts!”

“Oh god, don’t encourage him,” Grif said, walking up to them. Simmons was rushing up behind him. Between the two of them they had a bunch of weird looking equipment that probably measured the brainwaves or something.

“Caboose is already inside,” Simmons said. “You should go too; I think he’s nervous.”

Tucker laughed. “Well that makes two of us.” He walked down the stairs to the entrance of Battle Scorpion. He was already wearing his suit, which made him look like a total badass. Blood Gulch didn’t have a great budget for custom suits like some of the other programs, but even the standard ones looked pretty great. Besides, Grif had told him he knew where to get some teal paint to spruce it up later.

Caboose was sitting on the entrance ramp. His helmet was off, and he was looking at the ground.

“Uh... hi?” Tucker said. He had no idea what to do. It wasn’t like he’d ever talked to the guy before. Things had been so hectic that Tucker had barely realized he’d existed.  

Caboose looked up at him. The skin under his eyes was read and puffy, and Tucker suddenly felt kind of like shit. Wash clearly hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said that Caboose had a hard time with all this shit.

“Are you okay?”

“I am fine,” Caboose insisted. “I’m just... missing Church.”

The name was familiar. He frowned, trying to remember. “Uh... that was your old partner?” He hazarded a guess. Then something clicked into place. Oh god. If Caboose had been a pilot before, and had lost a partner...

He was Battle Scorpion’s old pilot. The one who had piloted the jaeger alone and killed a kajiu, even after his partner had been killed. Tucker hadn’t realized the guy was still on base; there were all sorts of fancy hospitals inland for pilots who had been injured or lost a partner. That kind of shit was damaging, he couldn’t believe that Sarge had let him stay.

And yet... the guy seemed to be doing okay, all things considered.

“Yes,” Caboose said. “He was my best friend.” He said that so simply, so cleanly. Like, there was no other words needed, like those words wrapped up every single thing about this guy. He was Caboose’s best friend.

Tucker wondered what kind of person he was, to have earned that title, that adoration.

“I’m... sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It is okay,” Caboose said. “It’s not your fault that he is gone.”

“Right. Good. Okay,” Tucker said, having no idea where to go with this. This guy was about to be in his head in a moment, and he had no fucking clue about him. “Do you... want to go inside?”

Caboose looked up, and over his shoulder. “That would be a good idea,” he said. “I have missed her.”

Tucker offered Caboose a hand, and Caboose pulled himself up. Tucker let out a sharp exhale—Caboose was heavier than he looked—and then the two of them walked into their jaeger, side by side.

Donut had fixed Sheila up until she was all pretty. The inside was familiar, and Caboose got into his old place, while Tucker got into Church’s old place. Caboose tried not to be mad at him for that.

“Alright,” Simmons’ voice said over the loudspeaker. He sounded very nervous. It had been a long time since he had to do this. Caboose frowned, trying to count the days in his head, but so many of those days, especially at the start, were blurred together. “Let’s... commencing neural drift!”

Tucker turned to him, and smiled. He had a nice smile. “Ready?”

“Yes!” Caboose said, and he meant it. Even if Church wasn’t here, he had always liked drifting. It was nice.

Caboose felt it begin. It was nice and slow as his awareness seeped into Tucker’s. The world began to shift as his mind settled, the familiar feeling sinking into his bones until he was comfortable and happy and—

<“Who the hell is this, what the fuck!”>

“Church?”

<“... you can hear me? Fuck Caboose, no, don’t come after me—”>

“Caboose? Caboose!”

Caboose reached out without thinking, trying to grab at Church, because he was right there, he had to be. There was the loud noise of crashing metal, as Sheila moved with him.

“Tucker, he’s chasing the rabbit!”

“Caboose!”

Caboose suddenly felt the drift go away. And Church was gone too.

“I... I am fine,” he said. He was lying.

Church was in the drift, Church was in the drift.

If Caboose could go back into the drift, he could get Church back, and then everything would be okay again.

After Caboose had nearly trashed the docking bay, they were told to take a break. They needed to talk things over, to figure out if it was still a good idea for them to go out.

Caboose had been very quiet, the whole time. He’d stuck near Tucker, which was... a good sign, right? That he wanted to be near him?

That night, Tucker had gone to sleep early, trying to figure out what was going to happen next.

He woke up, only a few hours later, to see Caboose at the foot of his bed.

“Tucker!”

“Ca—Caboose? What the fuck!” Tucker struggled to sit up, rubbing at his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I am a janitor! I have all the keys,” Caboose said patiently. “Quick! We need to go to Sheila!”

“What is it?” Tucker suddenly felt more awake. “Is it a kaiju?”

“No,” Caboose shook his head. “We need to go! Church is in the drift, and we need to get him out!”

“What?” Tucker felt dumbfounded, trying to put those words together in a way that made sense. “Your old partner? What’s he got to do with any of this?”

“Church was hurt, when we last drifted,” Caboose said. Each word was said very carefully. He’d told people about this before, Tucker realized. He’d rehearsed this, over and over again, until the story came perfectly and clearly.  “He disappeared. But he’s not dead. I heard him! He talked to me. And then he talked to me again! Just now, when we were drifting! And if we go back into the drift, we can get him back!” He dumped Tucker’s armor onto his bed. Sometime during the night, Caboose had found teal paint, and decorated his armor so that it matched his. Or had Grif done that? Tucker had no idea.

“Why do you need me?”

Caboose gave him a look that said a thousand words.

Tucker sighed. “Alright, fine.” They were going to get in trouble for this. They were going to get into so much trouble.

But...

Caboose had this wide-eyed, desperate look. He needed this, Tucker realized. And... it wasn’t like anyone was going to get hurt. They weren’t going to take the jaeger anywhere, just... drift for a bit.

He got out of bed, and got changed into his armor, only barely remembering to kick Caboose out of his room to do so.  

He followed Caboose through the base to the Battle Scorpion. This went against everything he knew, everything he’d been taught. He finally had a chance to be a pilot, finally had found someone he could drift with, and the fucking guy didn’t even want to drift with him. He just wanted his help getting his other partner back.

He wanted to be bitter, but he’d read the reports. He knew how much damage it could do to someone, to lose a drift partner, especially while someone was drifting.

Maybe Caboose just needed... closure, or something. So he could stop chasing the rabbit, and learn to be Tucker’s partner.

Caboose was talking the whole time, softly when they were passing through the barracks, and more loudly as they entered the other part of the base. He talked about how he knew that they could find his friend, about how important it was that they save him and get him back, and about how they would all be best friends forever when that happened.

“Look!” Caboose finally said, as they got to the Battle Scorpion. “Sheila!”

“It’s the Battle Scorpion,” Tucker grumbled. “What kind of a name is Sheila?”

Caboose didn’t even pause to listen, charging right into the heart of their jaeger to get things ready.

Tucker felt his heart racing in his chest as he got back into position for the second time in twenty-four hours.

“Let's just hurry and find your dumb friend in th—”

“His name is Church!” Caboose interrupted, his eyes wide and eager. God, Tucker wanted to hate him for this.

“Whatever—in the drift and then get out before they catch us.” Sarge was going to kill them for this. Especially Tucker.

There weren’t enough words for Tucker to describe the drift. People had tried before him; one of the people in one of the other programs had been a bit of a poet and had written some lines about the way that souls united, the way hearts raced until the rhythms stopped being separate things and became one. The way that two pilots became one jaeger.

None of them really did it justice, not in Tucker’s limited experience at least.

And as they entered the drift fully, Tucker heard Caboose cry out.

“Church!”

There was something warm and sticky on Caboose’s face but he didn’t care, didn’t notice. The world was fuzzy around the edges, but it didn’t matter, because Church was there.

He looked bad. Like, really bad. He was smeared in red and was slumped where he was standing. Caboose knew what happened next; the jaeger ripped open and there was screaming and everything was bad. He reached out towards Church, trying to reach him.

Suddenly, Church looked up. He looked tired. He looked very, very tired. But his eyes were looking right at Caboose. “Hey buddy.”

“Church, are you oka—” Caboose was still trying to reach him. But Church wasn’t moving to reach back.

“Shut up,” Church said, and he sounded tired too, “you're drifting.”

Caboose knew that. Of course they were drifting. They were in the jaeger together, that was how this worked.

“What the fu���” Tucker said. But Tucker couldn’t be there. Because Caboose had not met Tucker yet. Because Tucker only came to Blood Gulch Base after Church had—

Tucker could not be here.

“You’re in the memory of how I died,” Church said,and he was calm. He wasn’t yelling. That was wrong. Church always yelled. “Calm down and wake up.”

“Th—the monster, Church I—”

“Holy shit, he was right,” Tucker said, sounding awed. But Tucker shouldn’t be there. Because he didn’t know Tucker. Tucker hadn’t come to Blood Gulch yet. “You're sentient. Nothing in the drift is supposed to be sentie—”

“Hey!” Oh! Church was yelling again. Maybe things were going to be okay after all. “You his new partner? He needs to know he’s drifting.”

The monster was coming, and then Church would be gone again, and everything would be very sad and lonely and nothing would be okay.

“Church, we can still make it,” Caboose said. Something dripped into his eye. “I'll fight it for both of us. I'll get us back...” Back home, back to where they’d be safe and okay and everyone would be so happy to see them.

Suddenly everything was bright and hurting and sharp. Just like it had been last time, after Church had been ripped out of the jaeger. He couldn’t feel Church. He was alone. He was piloting the jaeger alone and everyone said he wasn’t supposed to do that, that this would hurt him, but he had to, he had to hold on, because the monster was still out there, Church was still out there…

Someone grabbed him, and Caboose yelled, his concentration flagging. “Caboose! Look at me! This is a memory!”

He looked down, and stared. Someone was there, in the jaeger, wearing normal people clothes instead of armor, and he was staring up at Caboose.

“Tucker...?” Yes that was it. It was stupid Tucker. He was new. He had...

“Yeah, and you're the shitty janitor I'm drift-compatible with!”

Janitor? Caboose wasn’t a…

He remembered now.

Holding a mop and staring at the floor, head aching and arm aching like they always did. Visiting Tex in the hospital, telling her stories until he got frustrated at her not responding and tried to shake her awake, and then the doctors told him he had to go.

Meeting Tucker. Sparring Tucker. Drifting with Tucker.

Tucker was smiling at him, but Tucker’s mouth kept moving, the corners of it trembling, as if he was scared.

“Remember? You met me AFTER all of this. Come on you asshole.”

Caboose did remember. He remembered begging Tucker, pleading with Tucker, to do this. To come here.

“Tucker...I brought you...to find...” Suddenly, the world changed. The warm and sticky stuff vanished from his face. Blood. It had been blood. He had been covered with blood, just like he had been when... “—Church,” Caboose finished. He felt tired and sad.

The world was white. Stark and white and empty. Caboose felt very small, just standing there with Tucker. Small, and tired, and lonely, even though Tucker was right there.

A hand suddenly came down on Caboose’s shoulder, and he looked.

“You idiot,” Church said heavily. “I told you not to come looking for me.”

“Church!” Caboose stumbled forward and wrapped the guy up in his arms, lifting him up off the ground. “You’re alive!”

Church closed his eyes, and Tucker saw the wince. “No buddy. I’m not.”

Caboose put him down carefully, frowning. “But you are here.”

“I’m stuck, Caboose,” Church said. “My body’s gone. I’m here. In the drift.”

“Who says you even need a body?” Tucker blurted out. Holy shit, he had not meant to speak up. But here he was, crossing his arms, staring at the guy.

He hadn’t thought Caboose had been right. Things in the drift weren’t real, everybody knew that. They were memories and things like that, they certainly weren’t sentient former jaeger pilots with bright green eyes and a scowl.

“Of course I need a body,” Church scoffed.

“Why? I mean, look at ghosts!” Tucker said. He was liking this idea more and more; it felt right, somehow, like he was onto something. Like it had felt the first time he had entered the drift with Caboose. It was like something had just slotted into place, and now he just needed to follow this through.

“Ghosts are dead!” Church sounded very offended.

“Look dude, you’re the one saying you’re dead and without a body, you’re already halfway there!” Tucker threw out his arms. “We’ve just got to... get you out of the drift I guess.”

“And how the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

“Well...” Tucker floundered, trying to think of an answer. “Ghosts in movies can possess people, right? So possess me or Caboose, and when we leave the drift, maybe you’ll come with us!”

“You can’t possess people, Tucker,” Caboose said solemnly. “That’s not very nice.”

“It’s worth a shot, though!” Tucker said. “Then Caboose can have his best friend back, and stop talking about how much he misses you all the time!”

Church looked at Caboose a very long time. Caboose smiled at him widely.

“... fine,” he said. “We’ll give it a shot.”  

He slowly faded out of sight, moving forward towards Caboose. Caboose spasmed suddenly, and Tucker reached out without thinking.

“Caboose!”

The white room faded away, and suddenly Tucker inhaled sharply as they broke out of the drift.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Simmons’ voice screeched from the radio. “Were you drifting? My readings are everywhere, why were you two even in a jaeger—?”

Tucker staggered forward. He felt like he’d just ran a marathon. Every inch of him was soaked in sweat, and his breathing was harsh and short. “Caboose?” He said, feeling sluggish and slow. Leaving the drift hadn’t been like this last time, but now everything hurts.

“He’s fine.”

Tucker fell to the ground, staring, as a blue, floating, transparent version of the guy he’d just been talking to in the drift stood in front of him.

“Church!” Caboose yelled happily, leaping forward as if to hug him. But, apparently Church didn’t have, y’know, substance or a body, and so instead he fell on top of Tucker.

“Caboose!” Tucker protested, groaning.

“What the hell—Grif did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Grif sounded very tired. Perhaps he had been napping before Simmons had spoken to him. Grif napped a lot, and it was very late at night.

“You two get out here right now!” Sarge ordered through the loudspeaker. “I want you down here on the double! No, triple! Quintuple!”

“Sir, you skipped quadruple—”

The loudspeaker went dead.

Tucker pushed Caboose off him and got to his feet. He helped Caboose up, then turned to look at Church. “So,” he said conversationally. “Ready to meet everyone again?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Church said, but he was already heading for the exit. “Not like I have anything better to do.”

Everybody was very happy to see Church again, once they were done yelling about it, and once Grif had made Simmons wake up again, and once Caboose had explained what had happened, and once Mister Sergeant had made Tucker explain as well, just in case.

Donut had said that Church being alive again was like a birthday, and so they needed to have a birthday party for him. Donut was very good at parties; there was a banner and cake and even a tiny hat, which Caboose had decided to put on Sheila instead of on himself.

Church was talking with Carolina a lot, but Caboose knew sisters are important, so he did not mind too much. Caboose wondered if anyone had told Church about Tex yet. Church would not be happy about Tex being asleep still. But maybe Tex would wake up soon, now that Church was back. It could be like the movie! Church would kiss her and she would wake up again, and everything would be fine!

Happy with this train of thought, Caboose decided that he should go get more of the punch that Doc was serving.

Tucker was waiting for him at the table, looking very tired. Caboose was kind of tired too, but he did not care, because Church was back. But, Caboose guessed that Tucker didn’t know Church, so it was okay that he was not quite as excited as Caboose was, even though Church coming back was the best thing ever.

“Hey Caboose,” Tucker said.

“Tucker!” Caboose said. “Church is back!”

“Yeah,” he made a face. “Sorry I didn’t believe you.”

“It is okay,” Caboose said. “You don’t really understand the drift. But I will teach you!”

Tucker stared at him. “You still want to drift with me?” He paused. “You still want to pilot Sheila with me?”

Caboose scoffed. “Well duh, Tucker,” he said. “Doctor Grey says Church can’t drift because he doesn’t have a brain, and then Church said no that was me, and she said it wasn't very nice, but I should be able to drift with you. And Church might be able to come with us!”

Tucker started grinning. It started out as a small smile, but it grew bigger and bigger. “That’s great, Caboose,” he said. “We’re going to kick ass together.”

“Yes!” Caboose agreed. “We will, and Grif and Simmons will help us once they get married and get a jaeger!”

“Wait, what?” Simmons yelped. He’d been standing very close to them, and so it was very loud. But Caboose didn’t mind loudness right now; his head didn’t hurt at all.  

“He’s saying we’re drift-compatible, dumbass,” Grif said, mouth full of cake.

“What? We’re what?”

Caboose wondered if Simmons hadn’t known that he was drift-compatible with Grif. It was obvious, wasn’t it? They moved like each other, just like he and Church had used to, before Church had become smaller and learned to levitate.

“Hmmm,” Mister Sergeant said, stroking his chin. “I think you might be onto something there, Caboose!”

“Of course I am,” Caboose said patiently. “It is the ground. It’s nice!” He tapped the ground with his foot to prove his point, smiling.

“Sorry to interrupt the celebrations,” a clear, loud voice said, breaking through everything else. They all turned around to stare at the woman, who was standing in the doorway. “I’m sorry to barge in on this, but we’re rather short on time.”

“Who are you then?” Sarge demanded, taking a step forward. Caboose tried to hide Church behind Tucker, but it was hard when he couldn’t touch Church. They would need to work on this.

She gave him a smile. It wasn’t a polite smile, it was the smile that Carolina got when she won a fight, or when she was still fighting and she having fun.

“My name is Vanessa Kimball, and I want to talk to you about saving the world.”