[ The first thing that hits him is that Mako Mori doesn't sound anything at all like he thought she would. It's a strange thing to think, because this is the first time they've ever made contact, but the presence of this girl has been a palpable thing, a reality that he'd had to deal with from the first moment the fact of who she was, was mentioned to him.
Yancy rubs a hand over his mouth, because he's trying not to laugh, trying not to kick himself for how this is making his heart expand, the worry and the tension easing out and away.
( It's a funny thing, when you become someone's copilot, when you practically become their world in the way that you know with absolute certainty that you are theirs.
For a long, long time it was just him and Raleigh, Raleigh and him, play fistfights and tussles and drift-hangover after a takedown in Los Angeles, Puerto San Jose, San Diego and Manila. They'd hung around other pilots or PPDC staff because civilians would find them odd, they way they'd just sit and share a look, one of them twitching an eyebrow or just letting out a laugh, hours upon hours worth of conversation spent without uttering a word.
But there are five years between him and Raleigh now, five years that Yancy can barely wrap his head around and a third person to consider. Even if the of of them falling into the old rhythm is as easy as breathing -- nothing's right; nothing's balanced the way it should be. And that's what's been eating him up, because his brother asked for space and he was all too prepared to give it, in the same kind of capacity that he had agreed to go meet the kid in the classroom when he'd messaged: Hey man. We should talk.
It's a terrible thing, to think that you are displaced from a spot that had always been unquestionably yours, and it is the sweetest kind of relief to know that it doesn't have to be like that. )
Mako Mori doesn't sound like he thought she would and that's perfectly, utterly okay. ]
The thing about Raleigh [ and me, really, he thinks ] is that you tell him not to do the thing, he will do the thing. [ Yancy takes a breath, shifts his hand on the communicator and continues: ] You don't have to tell me that he's scared. Saw it for myself on that first night fresh off the train.
[ He can still hear, see and feel the violence and the despair, his brother's face twisted and all wrong. You're not real. ]
Mako, [ her name feels foreign in his mouth and he wonders if that'll change. In this place, they will likely never have the Pons to meld their minds, so the current will always run one way: the exchange between Mako and his brother a bright and shining thing, and the thread that ties Raleigh to him a well-worn rope tested by time. But there are other ways to get to know a person that don't involve the intricacies of the Drift. ] How did you know?
[ That you and Raleigh were drift-compatible? That you would fit, just so? ]
( v i : d 5 : audio )
Yancy rubs a hand over his mouth, because he's trying not to laugh, trying not to kick himself for how this is making his heart expand, the worry and the tension easing out and away.
( It's a funny thing, when you become someone's copilot, when you practically become their world in the way that you know with absolute certainty that you are theirs.
For a long, long time it was just him and Raleigh, Raleigh and him, play fistfights and tussles and drift-hangover after a takedown in Los Angeles, Puerto San Jose, San Diego and Manila. They'd hung around other pilots or PPDC staff because civilians would find them odd, they way they'd just sit and share a look, one of them twitching an eyebrow or just letting out a laugh, hours upon hours worth of conversation spent without uttering a word.
But there are five years between him and Raleigh now, five years that Yancy can barely wrap his head around and a third person to consider. Even if the of of them falling into the old rhythm is as easy as breathing -- nothing's right; nothing's balanced the way it should be. And that's what's been eating him up, because his brother asked for space and he was all too prepared to give it, in the same kind of capacity that he had agreed to go meet the kid in the classroom when he'd messaged: Hey man. We should talk.
It's a terrible thing, to think that you are displaced from a spot that had always been unquestionably yours, and it is the sweetest kind of relief to know that it doesn't have to be like that. )
Mako Mori doesn't sound like he thought she would and that's perfectly, utterly okay. ]
The thing about Raleigh [ and me, really, he thinks ] is that you tell him not to do the thing, he will do the thing. [ Yancy takes a breath, shifts his hand on the communicator and continues: ] You don't have to tell me that he's scared. Saw it for myself on that first night fresh off the train.
[ He can still hear, see and feel the violence and the despair, his brother's face twisted and all wrong. You're not real. ]
Mako, [ her name feels foreign in his mouth and he wonders if that'll change. In this place, they will likely never have the Pons to meld their minds, so the current will always run one way: the exchange between Mako and his brother a bright and shining thing, and the thread that ties Raleigh to him a well-worn rope tested by time. But there are other ways to get to know a person that don't involve the intricacies of the Drift. ] How did you know?
[ That you and Raleigh were drift-compatible? That you would fit, just so? ]