Archive of Our Own ^beta

Raleigh took a long swig from his water bottle, still panting slightly. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, still coming down from his workout, and wondered if, somewhere, Yancy’s heart had picked up speed too. If he tried, he could probably figure out where Yancy was, actually, but he didn’t bother. Yance would be back soon enough anyway, and they’d been drifting like crazy lately, trying to get ready for their final examinations, so it was probably only a matter of time before they were in each other’s heads again. No need to push it. 

Too tired to manage the shower without a breather to recover, Raleigh dug out his phone. What had started a year ago as a stupid assignment by the Academy had become a genuine friendship, and it was habit now for Raleigh to pull up his PPDC Academy account whenever he had a spare moment.  

I graduate next week

He hadn’t really been expecting a reply. His mentee was in UTC+0900, whereas Raleigh was UTC-0400, each in one of the six PPDC Academies scattered across the globe. Still, he wasn’t entirely surprised when his message sparked a slew in response. If Raleigh was graduating, then Charlie had to be entering his second year in the program. That’s when things really started getting tough, and Raleigh knew Charlie was nervous. He might never admit it, but it was pretty obvious. Raleigh himself was the same way. 

I know, I can do the maths dumbass
I start training full time a week later. Once I’ve passed the last of the pre screening tests 
I’ll be joining you as a Ranger soon enough

Raleigh snorted, smothering a smile. Classic Charlie. Raleigh wondered whether he was putting it on, or if he really hadn’t considered the possibility that he wouldn't make it. It was a toss up, probably. 

not everyone makes it, you could wash out

not me
Shane’s buddy did tho, couple weeks back

we’ll see rookie
what region were they from?

Shane’s buddy? North America

Raleigh winced. 

damn. Nick?

This time, the reply was slower in coming. As if Charlie was thinking over what he wanted to say, what he dared to say. Raleigh didn’t blame him. Washouts were always a tricky subject, especially final year washouts. Especially final trimester washouts.  

yeah, you’re NA too aren’t you? Did you know him?

yeah, thought he’d make it. Raleigh hesitated for a moment, and then committed. Thought we’d all make it, by now.

By this point, he meant, this close to graduating. It wasn’t really something he should put on a newbie, like Charlie, but the kid had become his friend, and the Academy brass had probably planned for it. Had hoped that by connecting new recruits with senior cadets it’d somehow reduce the number of washouts in both groups. Maybe it was working. Maybe not.

Either way, the semi-anonymous matching of strangers had worked out for Raleigh. He might only know Charlie by the name he’d entered into his profile—which was probably a nickname, like Ray—but Charlie was a good sort. Was probably even going to make it. Yancy’s mentee had already washed out at the second gateway, months and months ago. 

you’ll make it, Ray. Charlie was quick to assure him. And then, because he wouldn’t be the man Raleigh had come to know if he didn’t deflect from emotion… They gave me you for a reason, remember?

Raleigh laughed a little, despite himself. The kid was arrogant to be sure, but not rude about it. Cocky. Like Raleigh himself. It was probably why they got on so well.

just cause you think you’re some young hotshot doesn’t mean it’s true chuckles

I am young shitstain, and I’m gonna be the best

Raleigh rolled his eyes, but let it go. Everyone was young when they started, did Charlie really think he was special? Raleigh doubted he was breaking any records. Hell, even looking back at himself when he’d first joined up, Raleigh felt like a kid—he’d been so young, had done so much growing since—of course Charlie was young. 

got a lot of catching up to do then. Haven’t you heard I’m top of the class?

It was a slight exaggeration—him and Yancy were top five of their year, sure, but there were more dedicated students—but not by much. The strength of his and Yancy’s connection was unmatched. Not even graduated and they already felt like one person some days. Raleigh wasn’t really sure if he was dreading active duty, because of it. All the Rangers the Academy had got in to talk to them had said that managing the drift was the part no one warned you about, so better be prepared. Raleigh was prepared, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be. 

that just means you’re the only one able to keep up. told you, they assigned us together for a reason

Raleigh snorted again, distracted by this little punk.

whatever you say recruit. And then, because he couldn’t stop thinking about it. You got a partner? He didn’t have to specify, Charlie would know what he meant. Any Ranger—or hopeful—would know what he meant. 

nah, they’ll match me once I graduate probably. I’ve had solid compat scores with most people, figure they’ll assign me to a Ranger whose partner’s retired, or hurt or something. Unless I really click with someone who starts in the next couple of years.

You hve your brother yea?

yeah

having second thoughts?

Raleigh thought about it. Was he? He was worried about the strength of their connection, about forgetting he was Raleigh, about one day drifting so deep that the psychs packed them off somewhere. Something that wasn’t just a wive’s tale, because it had actually happened before. 

He was, a little bit, worried about dying. About being killed by a Kaiju and leaving the fucker free to rampage across the continent for hours maybe, until the PPDC could get another Jaeger out there. 

He wasn’t regretting his choice. 

No, thanks charls. Raleigh smiled, again, and then stood. He’d dawdled long enough. Time for him to hit the showers and then the books—it would be too embarrassing to stand if their ranking slipped because Raleigh half-assed their final exams. 

Get to sleep recruit, ik what time it is over there

After his shower, when Raleigh checked his phone, he found the expected messages waiting for him. 

fuck off
gnight Ray

Raleigh hadn’t really been ready for being a Ranger. Despite what he’d thought, despite four years of training, Raleigh had been nowhere near prepared. 

Everything was different now. The responsibility he had, the way people treated him, the drift—drifting in a Jaeger was nothing like drifting in a simulator, instead of becoming one person, they became one mind, one person if that person was a giant, 260ft nuclear powered robot—they could feel de Havilland Danger as if she were their own body, and she was. 

Raleigh hadn’t expected it. Yancy had laughed at him, in his head, during their first connection, when they’d each been them and each other and their Jaeger. He was still getting used to it. They both were. 

Another thing he hadn’t expected. To be so nervous before his first proper drop. 

The first connection beyond practice manoeuvres. Their first time facing a Kaiju. 

They weren’t going alone—thank fuck—the PPDC cared too much about their assets—both Jaegers and trained Rangers—for that. They were an investment, a valuable resource. So Raleigh and Yancy made their first live drop with Eagle Valiant and Champion Triumphant, both Mark-II Jaegers piloted by experienced Rangers.  

“Easy does it, kid,” Yancy said, on his right, already plugged in and operating as the right hemisphere of their Jaeger’s brain. 

Don’t worry, we’re gonna be fine. 

And, because Yancy knew it, so did Raleigh. Because Yancy believed it, Raleigh did too. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, feeling his worries fade. It was what made Yancy so skilled in the drift, the ability to challenge a possible upset and shift it off course, to pull his co-pilot into his line of thought, that Yancy himself was so steady. The way that Raleigh instinctively went along with it, because it was Yancy, was what made them such an incredible team. 

“Becket Boys,” Tendo’s voice was a reassurance. Raleigh grinned, in perfect unison with Yancy. 

Friend-beloved-adored-trusted-colleague. Raleigh—a good man, a good friend, competent and skilled at what he did, had Yancy’s back and of course that was all it took—Yancy—he was cute, flirty, the way he smiled, friend friend, more?—both, together, their thoughts. 

“Holding steady,” he confirmed, and they didn’t even bother to be relieved. Of course they were, if there was one thing they could do, it was drift. 

“Alright Beckets, de Havilland Danger is ready to drop. Hold onto your butts.”

They had just enough time to groan at the clunkiness of the name before they were falling. Raleigh felt their innards tense and shift, fighting—and losing—against gravity, as the conn pod fell and fell and fell, adrenaline spiking, surging, pumping. Finally, they hit the rest of their Jaeger. 

The conn pod connected with a clang that Raleigh felt, vibrating through skin and bone. Distantly, he heard LOCCENT—”coupling confirmed, engaging pilot to pilot protocol”—felt their Jaeger moving, towed forwards, still on its runners, and then they were in open air. 

He felt more than heard Yancy. Yancy heard more than saw his nod. 

Let’s do this. 

Together, they moved. Walking in place, moving the Jaeger—feeling resistance against every step, their muscles pulled tight, fighting for purchase. They winced, setting their teeth against the tension. Now they knew why the PPDC put just as much emphasis on grit as physical fitness. They had to be committed, physically and mentally, to make this work. 

It was a good thing, then, that if there was one thing both Beckets had in abundance it was stubbornness. 

By the time they rounded the edge of the Shatterdome, Eagle Valiant and Champion Triumphant were already waiting. 

For all they were a towering, 260ft high machine, Eagle Valiant and Champion Triumphant were impressive. Somehow, despite the fact their Jaeger was the newest tech, the older two seemed so much more. Battle-worn and honed in a way the still shiny Danger wasn’t. Thickly plated and scarred, two multi-thousand tonne machines built of pure awesome. 

Standing beside the experienced Jaegers, Raleigh-and-Yancy felt the littlest bit intimidated. 

“Nice to see you, de Havilland!” Eagle Valiant announced, through the connection between the conn pods, David’s voice emerging directly from the speakers near their heads. They made a face. 

“Yeah, that needs changing, pronto”

Someone laughed. It sounded like Sara. 

“Give it time, baby Rangers,” Triumphant broadcast, in her voice. “Worry about kicking Kaiju ass.”

It was good advice. 

“Alright LOCCENT, Jaegers are ready to roll”

“Good news Valiant. Get a move on.”

So they did. 

The Breach had disgorged Sickleback a couple hours ago—Category Two, five-thousand pounds and vaguely crab-like, with what reports indicated were far too many legs and a scorpion-esque tail—and when the Kaiju had booked it east, Anchorage had gotten the call. Now, it was a waiting game. 

Fortunately—unfortunately?—they didn’t have to wait long.

“Incoming!” LOCCENT warned. “Sickleback two minutes out.”

“Let’s go, Jaegers!” Eagle Valiant called, charging ahead. Raleigh-and-Yancy followed, keeping pace with Champion Triumphant, the three machines forming a wedge as they cut through the sea, pushing against the weight of the ocean with each step. 

Sickleback erupted from the water, sending a fountain of spray sky-high in glittering arcs. Raleigh-and-Yancy stumbled. Valiant didn’t. David-and-Rhiannon charged forward, towards the Kaiju. Raleigh-and-Yancy were still reeling, still adjusting, when Sara-and-Joe moved to reinforce Valiant. 

They’d trained with Triumphant and Valiant’s pilots before, in their human skins, so they knew how the others worked. Individually and as a team. David and Rhiannon were more forceful, brash, Sara and Joe more reserved. They’d handed Raleigh-and-Yancy their asses before—in the Kwoon, the two pairs tag teaming the Beckets, Yancy, taken out when he dodged a strike from David, not realising Sara was behind him, Raleigh, stumbling when Joe had come at him, so caught up in trading strikes with the man that he had been unprepared for Rhiannon’s sudden charge, four sets of memories, their own and their brother’s, watching, four perspectives of the single memory, flashing through their mind before fading, neither latching on—but now, working together? 

If they could hold their own, they’d do themselves proud. Both Beckets were confident they could do that much.

De Havilland Danger dove into the fight.

Sickleback was indeed crab-like, with four sets of pincers that could crush metal and two pairs of flippered swimming legs, an exoskeleton that repelled brute force strikes, and a gaping maw like nothing either Becket had ever seen. It was, undeniably, a monster from hell and one mean-ass son of a bitch. Their Jaeger staggered as a flailing claw clipped the conn pod, sending them careening for a minute—alarms wailing shrilly—before they managed to right themselves. 

In the meantime, Champion Triumphant had managed a very precarious grip, facing up to the crab-esque bastard and getting a hold against one pincer, grabbing tight and twisting. Metal groaned in protest as the pincer bore down. 

They succeeded for maybe twenty seconds in holding off Sickleback. Then the Jaeger went flying, soaring into the air in a way nothing that weighed that much should be able to. Champion Triumphant hit the surf with an almighty splash, sending water rippling outwards, pushing waves against Raleigh-and-Yancy’s metal thighs. 

Together, Eagle Valiant and de Havilland Danger dove towards the Kaiju. 

“We’ve got right,” Valiant called it, both pilots speaking in sync. The younger Rangers didn’t bother to acknowledge it, merely went left—layering ineffective punches against Sickleback’s plated hide. 

The joints, they thought—Yancy thought? Or maybe Raleigh—either way, they changed targets. Or, rather, merely shifted their aim. Instead of striking, they tried to grab, to twist. Valiant seemed to have the same idea. On the other side of the Kaiju, the more experienced Jaeger had already gotten a hold, giant arms wrapped around the base of one of Sickleback’s swimming legs—oh that’s- a good- damn good- idea- we should- really should have- thought of- about that—with much better success than Raleigh-and-Yancy had managed against the thicker, pincer tipped limbs. Valiant twisted, feet planted firmly on the sea floor, turning at the waist until Sickleback screamed, leg threatening to pop, twisted against the joint and then, then they materialised a blade from one wrist and drove it in deep. 

A flicker of movement, and de Havilland Danger was moving before either Raleigh-and-Yancy or Raleigh-and-Yancy had time to process what they were reacting to. They made it, deflecting the lunging swipe of a pincer heading for Champion Triumphant, who’d made her return. 

“Do it again,” Joe’s voice ordered. “We’ve got a shot at the mouth if it screams again, Havilland hold it off.” 

They did as they were told. 

Valiant’s pilots swore as the second right pincer came at them, ducking a blow and shielding the conn pod as the third right pincer followed up, then the fourth. Somehow, they managed to get between them, managed to get close to the fourth right pincer, beyond its guard, which meant they only had to dodge the third, second, and possibly first, and somehow still manage to get a hit on the exposed joint of the second swimming leg. 

Raleigh-and-Yancy left them to it. They didn’t have time to watch. They were too busy shielding Champion Triumphant, who had backed up—giving herself room to make the shot. 

“Fuck,” Yancy muttered, with feeling, voice catching the thought bouncing back and forth between both hemispheres of their single brain. 

They staggered, metal knees protesting as Sickleback managed a hit on the conn pod, rattling their flesh bodies where they were cocooned. Raleigh-and-Yancy blinked back stars. 

“Fuck,” Raleigh repeated. Still, they had a job to do. 

“Nearly got it,” Rhiannon warned, through gritted teeth. 

“Ready when you are,” Sara agreed, over the whirring hum of their charging plasma launcher. Raleigh-and-Yancy steeled themselves. Sickleback was still lashing out, four pincered claws coming for the two Jaegers in front of it, two more on its right side going for Champion Valiant. 

Then, suddenly, there was a grunt of effort over the comm—torn from two throats—and Sickleback was throwing its torso back, mouth open wide as it screamed, shrill and piercing, making Raleigh-and-Yancy glad for the sound dampening effect of all the metal surrounding them. Sickleback thrashed, lashing out, and the Beckets were there, deflecting one blow, two, protecting Champion Valiant as the other Jaeger took the shot. 

It connected. 

Sickleback didn’t even have time to scream again. It simply crumpled, hissing faintly, twitching a little as it went still, sinking into the sea. 

“We’re reading no vitals,” Tendo confirmed, and suddenly Raleigh-and-Yancy could relax. 

Over the comms, Joe whooped. Champion Valiant clapped de Havilland danger on the shoulder. 

“Well done, Beckets” 

The glow in their combined chests may well have been their Jaeger’s nuclear core. Raleigh felt the grin stretching Yancy’s face, felt his brother’s laugh tickling his throat. 

Somehow, they made it back to the Shatterdome without floating off into space. 

When they finally detached, stepping out of the drift, Raleigh couldn’t stop grinning. He could still feel the carbonation in Yancy’s blood, tingling like joy. His brother grabbed him in a hug, loose limbed and giddy. 

“We did it, fuck yeah we did it”

“Hell yeah,” Raleigh grinned, clutching back with all the strength left in him. 

When they emerged, it was to cheers. Raleigh blinked at the sudden noise, physically taken aback—it was like a wall of sound, a bodily strike, enough to leave him reeling—but he leant into it. David and Rhiannon were already there, stripped of their drivesuits and ready to toss their arms around the brothers’ shoulders.

“To our newest pilots!” David announced, to more cheers. The base techs, LOCCENT, the other pilots, the science techs, j-techs—fuck, it felt like the whole Shatterdome was here. 

By his side, Yancy laughed, lapping it all up. 

“Where’re Joe and Sara?” he asked, head tilted back to rest against David’s arm. 

“Shipping straight out,” Rhiannon told them, heedlessly mussing a hand through Raleigh’s sweaty hair. “They’ll congratulate you when they’re back in a couple weeks.”

“Fuck that,” Raleigh snorted. “We want to congratulate them.” 

The other pilots just laughed, pulling their two newest members with them through the crowd. 

“Come on boys,” Tiana said, leading the way. “You need drinks, then we’ll see if you puke your guts up once the adrenaline crash hits.”

An hour and a half later, Raleigh was groaning, clutching at his head and thinking very uncomplimentary things about David and Tiana and Alica. Nearby, Yancy was bent double, forehead rested against the nearest cool surface—a patch of bare concrete wall that formed one edge of their quarters. 

A proper Ranger now, and Raleigh just wanted to feel like he could breathe without the threat of his chest caving in on him. He craved distraction. Normalcy. Something the same as it had always been.

One hand found his phone. 

He didn’t know how Joe and Sara did it, killing a Kaiju like it was nothing. Merely another Thursday, racking up their third kill and then hopping on a plane to deploy to southern Europe, because they were big enough hot shots to be chosen as representatives. Raleigh kind of wanted that, he did, if only it didn’t scare the crap out of him. 

It would be good to talk to someone about simple stuff. Dumb stuff. Academy stuff. Things Raleigh knew, backwards and forwards, inside and out. He’d left the Academy a king, after all. 

He knew that, given enough time, he’d master piloting as well—given enough time Raleigh was going to become a legend, him and Yance, the Becket Boys—they were going to be the names on everyone’s lips, heroes and rockstars all in one. They were going to be the Rangers. Eventually. Once Raleigh adjusted from the very significant jump from senior cadet to Ranger, to graduating from being a big fish in a small pond to very small fish in a large ocean, where there were not only other fish but sharks, who they had to fight. Once Raleigh got the hang of things, him and Yancy were going to be unstoppable, on top of the world, a force of nature. Until then, Raleigh needed an escape. 

For now, he just needed to stop thinking. Easier said than done, after his brain had been dialled to eleven, held there for hours, then dropped into a too small body alone—they’d disconnected, but his mind was constantly reaching for the rest of it, safely returned to Yancy’s body. 

What Raleigh needed, desperately, was a distraction. 

Luckily, Charlie always provided. 

you get a decent posting?

The message was a couple of weeks old—Raleigh had kind of been waiting to reply until he had something cool to say—but Charlie hadn’t sent a follow up. 

North-Western NA, Raleigh replied, as if he hadn’t left the message sitting there for weeks. Charlie should understand—he’d probably be busy too, transitioning from recruit to cadet. It was late enough in the day—so late it was early, technically—that Raleigh knew Charlie would be awake. Whether or not he was in class, well, even as the response came in, jury was still out. 

nice. U happy?

Yeah. And he was. He knew what Charlie had been referring to, the fact he’d gotten assigned his home continent—the PPDC tried to keep it that way, because it made everyone happier and gave the public a homegrown hero to root for, but it didn’t always work out—but more than that, they’d opened a Shatterdome in Anchorage, so him and Yance had been lucky enough to stay in their home state. The odds of that were insane. Objectively, Raleigh was stoked. At the moment? He wanted to think about anything but the fact he and his brother were standing between their hometown and the Kaiju trying to make land. 

What’re you hoping for? He asked, instead of elaborating. Somewhere SEA?

Nah, Aus and NZ

Raleigh blinked. It wasn’t what he’d assumed. Australia had plenty of Rangers, but most of them had trained in the US—but Raleigh supposed that since the South-East Asia Academy had opened up it probably made sense for future Australian pilots to be trained there, making connections with the other pilots in the region they’d actually serve. 

You’re Australian? 

Charlie’s reply was quick in coming. 

Yeah

Cool. Miss home?

The response was slower in arriving this time, the way they were when Charlie was debating how much he should edit what he wanted to say. 

Yeah. It was cool at first, then I started missing it, then i got over it, then I started missing home again. If that makes sense

It was more honest than he’d expected, that little bit of hesitance enough to be endearing, enough to make Raleigh want to reassure him—even if he himself had only had to cross to the other side of the continent. He hadn’t even had to leave the US to go to the North American Academy.

It makes sense. I missed home too, even if I had my brother. It’s normal, cadet

ha!  That’s the first time you’ve called me cadet

You’re not a recruit anymore, Raleigh smiled, feeling his awareness of his headache start to fade away.

What’s it like being a proper cadet now anyway, you make any friends yet?

No ones on my level. The reply came quickly—too quickly. Raleigh waited. Soon enough, clarification followed.
I’m not really the best, socially. I’m kind of an asshole

It was an admission, but not exactly new information. Prickly was perhaps the most tactful way of describing Charlie. That much Raleigh knew, even virtually. Still, it was enough to coax a little huff of humour from him. 

Shocker. Chuckles, an asshole? No way

He couldn’t really resist snarking back. It was probably why he and his semi-anonymous once-mentee got on so well. 

Whatever dipshit, and oh, how Raleigh could practically hear the sulk in those words. See if I trust u again

Nah cmon Charls
You’re actually my friend, you know? Pretty sure I stopped caring about the assignment after a couple months, and I definitely don’t have to be talking to you since I graduated

Again, the expected pause. Raleigh could so strongly picture Charlie typing out a message, deleting it, typing another, censoring it—over and over until he got the right kind of aloof in his tone. 

Right. U too

Thanks man

Anyway, what’d you do 2day?

There was no hesitation this time. Raleigh was glad for that. Nearby, Yancy had gotten to his feet, groaning, and Raleigh had been very unfortunately reminded that nausea was catching. 

He closed his eyes against the feeling—against seeing himself-who wasn’t himself-who was his brother-who was Yancy and not him even if he’d stolen half of Raleigh’s brain—keeping them closed until his phone chimed softly with Charlie’s reply. 

“Shut that off,” Yance whined, a little pathetically. If Raleigh had felt a little less like he’d been run over and stretched like taffy and shoved into a failed facsimile of a container, he would have argued, just for the sake of it. Instead, he flicked his phone onto silent. It was easier. And, joy of joys, triggered a placebo that had his headache seem to fade, just slightly. Thank every-fucking-thing imaginable.

When Raleigh returned from the Kwoon, muscles aching pleasantly with a familiar burn, acute wherever he’d gained a yet-to-bloom bruise, there was a message waiting for him. Almost four hours old—he’d been in a briefing before sparring—and, still towelling himself dry, Raleigh didn’t hesitate to reply, managing his phone one handed as he crossed the room. 

Can I be honest? 

Course, what’s up Charls?

Today was shit. The reply was a lot quicker in coming than Raleigh had expected, given the delay and the time difference and he frowned, tossing the towel haphazardly in the direction of the bathroom and not bothering to get dressed beyond tugging on a pair of loose boxers. Yancy had gone to find Tendo, so Ralaiegh didn’t have to worry about modesty, but even if he hadn’t, well, it wasn’t anything Yance hadn’t seen before, and Charlie seemed upset. Raleigh knew how to prioritise. 

Tell me about it? You’ve got exams soon yeah, are they bothering you?

Kinda
Yes
Its not just that though

Raleigh felt himself making a face. When he’d been a cadet, exams had felt like the end of the world—him and Yancy handled the drift well enough, even then, that the only risk to them washing out was academics—Yancy was smart, always had been, and discipled too, but Raleigh knew his own failings. He lacked the natural talent that some had, and he hadn’t tried as hard as he should’ve to make up for it with hard work. Exam time had always been its own sort of hell, for him. 

They want me to find a partner 

Oh. Well, yeah, that could be a problem. Not a problem he’d ever had, but a problem. He didn’t have to ask to know what Charlie meant. He had no permanent drift partner, which was normal—not everyone tried out for the Academy as a pair, and even then, it was rarer than not for both prospective candidates to make it in, and rarer still for neither to wash out—him and Yancy had been the exception, not the rule. Usually, people ended up getting paired off during training, either forming close connections or getting told to suss out a match, getting pointed towards other cadets who they held high compatibility scores with. By the time you graduated, you were supposed to be an established pair. It was the way of things. Had Charlie not expected it?

They always do. Any hopefuls?

That’s the thing. No one fits

Raleigh felt his face crease, winced slightly as he instinctively bit on his lip—right where Yance had gotten an accidental hit. 

You’re not compatible enough?

Surely that couldn’t be right. No one even qualified for the Academy if they weren’t able to drift with someone. 

It’s not that. It’s just no one feels right. Not the way rangers talk about. I’m decent with everyone, there are some people like that, I’m not quite a universal drifter but it’s close, apparently. It just doesn’t feel right

Okay, maybe Raleigh could see where he was coming from. He knew there were universal drifters—well, one universal drifter, but presumably there were more who didn’t want to be Rangers, so the PPDC hadn’t been able to identify them—but if you couldn’t just click with your partner, it had to be pretty horrible to share a brain. 

And you don’t want to drift with someone whos not right

Who you don’t trust, he didn’t say. He didn’t need to. Charlie had to know it better than Raleigh, the kid didn’t need him rubbing salt in the wound. Exposing your soul to someone you didn’t trust, deeply and intrinsically, had to be… icky, at the very least, like sandpaper grating up against everything that made you who you were. No—proper long term, sustainable drift partnerships really did have to be between people who trusted each other. 

And for someone as friendly and approachable as Charlie, that list had to be very, very small. 

I don’t want to be stuck with them, Charlie explained, and Raleigh just knew that the words were raw and exposed, like a nerve. 

If Raleigh didn’t have Yancy, he would have offered. But, then they wouldn't be in this situation, Raleigh never would have made it as a recruit, let alone stuck around long enough to be the senior cadet assigned to mentor Charlie. Never would have graduated, never would have been in a position to make that offer. But still, he almost wanted to. If Charlie could drift with almost anyone, especially given that the two of them were actually friends, they’d probably make for a passable pair. Raleigh’d tested his compatibility with others, back at the Academy, but never actually drifted with anyone other than Yancy. If it were Charlie… Raleigh wanted to know what it felt like.

But not enough to make the offer. Never enough to make that offer.

Shit man, that really sucks ass

Ikr? Raleigh knew Charlie well enough to taste the sarcasm and bitterness in the message, short as it was. He didn’t need to ask to know that Charlie very deliberately wasn’t asking him, because Raleigh was as close to the only candidate Charls could stand as it was possible to be. 

He didn’t ask if the kid had any family. Just because he and Yancy were, well, him and Yancy, didn’t mean that most people were that close to their siblings. Let alone their parents. And he already knew Charlie didn’t have many—any—close friends. Which was shit, because if Charlie really was as close to a universal drifter as he said, then there was no way the PPDC was letting him go. Not a resource like that. They’d force him to pair with someone, then keep him on reserve for whenever they needed a fill in, for whenever a Ranger was injured or on medical leave, so that their partner could keep up the fight. For whenever a Ranger was seriously incapacitated, or died. How must it feel, to know you’d only ever be the last resort? To know you’d be foisted off onto some grieving, self-loathing Ranger who’d lost their partner? It must feel like absolute crap, even setting aside the self-worth issues Charlie obviously had, and counting out that he didn’t really have friends, had never really felt like he’d been anyone’s first choice. 

Raleigh really, really wished there were something he could do. 

What do you need from me? 

Not, what can I do, but what did Charlie need. There was a difference. 

Now, there was a pause between messages. Now, Charlie was hesitating. Raleigh knew he’d typed out then discarded ‘there’s nothing you can do’ and ‘I don’t need anything’, both untrue, so he waited. 

Eventually, the response came. 

Be here. Distract me. Tell me it’s worth it

That, Raleigh could do. 

so you know blue water high, Raleigh began, waving off Alicia and bowing out of the next round. The rest of the pilots could keep playing, but he’d had his fill of Telestrations. Instead, he settled himself in a corner, nursing his beer and wondering what Charlie was up to, if Raleigh would get a response or if he’d have to wait until morning. 

Luck was with him, within a few minutes, his phone buzzed, drawing his attention away from David’s impassioned “Yancy what the actual fuck?”. 

What about it?

Raleigh hid a smile, pretending the sudden bouying of his chest was at all to do with the way the rest of the room was guffawing. 

You were right. Bec and Edge were robbed

HA
You’re actually invested now

Yeah yeah u were right, it’s unironically good

And it was. The show was old, pre-Kaiju old, and maybe before Charlie’s time—but it was simple and easy and made for brainless TV. Raleigh could be invested in a world completely without stress. Even the stakes weren’t that high—there was no rule that said the losers had to stop surfing, they could still get sponsors, it just might take them longer to make it professionally. Watching was risk free. 

Watching gave him something to veg out to, gave him an escape, let his brain rest. Exactly as Charls had said. 

Raleigh was grateful. But not quite grateful enough to mention all that again. Charlie could figure it out anyway, Raleigh had already admitted he was right. Twice. 

seriously tho, Raleigh continued, because there was no point giving Charls a big head. Bec was robbed

Well Fly probably needed it most out of all of them, Charls argued. Which, true, but Raleigh just didn’t care the same. Maybe he should have, but he was long past the point of feeling guilty about what the world thought he should feel. He was a Ranger, for fuck’s sake. He could do whatever he damn well wanted.

Perhaps, he conceded. but Bec still deserved it, and I never really clicked with Fly

Your personal preference doesn’t mean anything in universe

Yeah. But still. And Edge tho, I wanted to see those two get together

Fair. But you didn’t want Heath to win? In terms of clickable characters he’s the nicest of the lot

But he’s not as driven, Raleigh countered immediately, before pausing. Why was Charls arguing with him? Raleigh already knew his opinions, he’d mentioned them when he suggested the show, invested in a way Raleigh had laughed at, then, only to mimic now.
Why are you even arguing?? You agree w/ me, Edge is ur favourite

There were a few minutes of silence, Charlie probably getting caught up with something, and in the meantime Raleigh got to watch as it was revealed that, somehow, ‘the election’ had detoured through ‘Tiananmen Square’ and ended up as ‘nuclear winter’. Seriously, what the fuck. 

He was almost surprised when his phone buzzed, drawing his attention away from the game. 

Devil’s advocate Ray, Charlie had countered. And then—
Besides. It’s cute when you’re flustered 

Raleigh blushed, fingers frozen above his phone. 

That was almost flirting. But still deniable. Did Charls think he was cute, or was he teasing him? Was he testing the waters? Or was it just a lark between two mates? 

Raleigh didn’t know. But he didn’t want to scare Charlie off. So he’d keep things light, keep them teasing, and test the waters a little, just to see what Charlie did. 

Oh you’re just as bad. ‘Ray u have to watch this show, it’s quintessential Australiana Ray’

Well it is, Charlie agreed, mimicking Raleigh’s tone, casual and cavalier.  

And you can’t even deny you like it. You’re gonna keep watching 

And if I am, hotshot? What’re you gonna do about it? 

There, that was a gamble. Raleigh felt his stomach clench, like the moment right before the drop. It was as much an almost flirting as Charlie’s comment had been. Proportional reciprocation, noncommittal but not dismissive. The ball was in Charlie’s court now. 

There was a long, long pause. Raleigh almost gave up on a response, almost put his phone away, figuring it wasn’t coming. Maybe he had scared Charlie off? The kid was his friend sure, but still a couple years younger at least, still a cadet to Raleigh’s Ranger, maybe he-

Invite you over. Wanna learn to surf, Ray? 

Well shit. That was very much an escalation. 

Excellent. Raleigh was giddy. Charlie liked him back—well, maybe—liked him enough to flirt with, at least. Raleigh was inordinately pleased. He’d been deliberately not flirting for a while now, because Charlie was younger, and Raleigh was one of his only friends, and he didn’t want to pressure him into anything or ruin their friendship—but if Charlie had expressed openness to the possibility, well, Raleigh would be damned if he wasn’t interested. 

Name the time and place Charls, he promised. I’ve got the leave. 

He would take it, too, could see himself on a plane heading halfway across the world, could picture himself in Australia, now, actually, after watching Blue Water, could see himself with Charlie.

He could really see himself with Charlie. 

The reply was near instantaneous, this time. 

When I graduate

Which, yeah, probably for the best. Not a no, but a deferral nonetheless. Raleigh tried not to deflate. It wasn’t a rejection, it wasn’t— it was, in fact, an invitation to keep flirting with Charls—but Raleigh was still just a little disappointed, even if he recognised the sense in it. 

Good call cadet, Raleigh told him, because that was the reasonable decision, the responsible decision. Raleigh could wait. Still though… It’s a date. 

A pause, just long enough to make Raleigh smirk. Fuck, he’d bet his Jaeger that Charlie was blushing. 

Bugger off man.

Ah, there’s the Charls I know and love, embarrass you did I? He teased, just because he could. 

Piss off

After you, cadet 

“Beckets! Haul ass, now!”

“We’ve got you, Butcher,” Yancy said, speaking through Raleigh’s mouth. Together, they hauled ass. De Havilland Danger made it back to the fight in time to distract Tribulation—grabbing the reaching tentacle and yanking. 

The eight-armed Kaiju shrieked, like a fucking demon, beak clacking with a hellish ra-ka-ka-ka that set every one of Raleigh-and-Yancy’s sixty-four teeth on edge. The Beckets grit their jaw against the noise, hearing Tendo swear softly as if from a great distance. Fuck, their head was ringing. 

It was no longer enough to distract them. 

They pressed on, ducking another furious swipe of another one of the Kaiju’s gigantic tentacles. It was like they were fighting the fucking kraken. They didn’t quite manage to dodge the third blow. It sent them staggering, momentarily off balance, blinking frantically to shake the dizziness from their brain—to stop feeling rattled, like they were still moving, even though their Jaeger had already corrected course. 

In the intervening heartbeats, Sierra Butcher edged closer, wrist mounted blade already engaged. Tiana-and-Alica never got a chance to use it. Tribulation had learnt, in the scant minutes since their last attack—the fucker was smart. Smartest Kaiju Raleigh-and-Yancy had even heard of. It had only taken the once for it to learn that Butcher’s sword arm was a threat. It didn’t give them a chance to bring it to bear a second time. 

Another tentacle materialised from the sea, moving with blinding speed. The more experienced Jaeger didn’t have a chance to get out of the way. In seconds, the tentacle had ‘rounded it—once, then twice—pinning the sword down flat against Sierra Butcher’s right leg. 

De Havilland Danger wasn’t given much of a chance to figure out how to free her compatriot. They dodged the first tentacle that came for them, only to be caught by the second—smart fucker. They struggled. The good news was, the Kaiju had caught them lower down, though the prehensile limb was rapidly climbing, encircling the Jaeger’s chassis. 

But Tribulation learnt through experience, and it had no way of knowing de Havilland Danger was armed with an entirely different weapon. Their right elbow was still free. If they could find a target, they could definitely get a shot off. Especially at such close range. 

Raleigh-and-Yancy thought as one. 

“Butcher, get its attention on you. If we can get a target we have a shot,” Raleigh said, with Yancy’s voice, someone’s hand hitting the broadcast button. The other Jaeger didn’t bother to acknowledge them—but she did start struggling, wildly and without calculation. Not trying to escape, not really, but taking Tribulation’s attention. 

Raleigh-and-Yancy smirked, one expression perfectly mirrored on two faces. 

Tribulation screeched again, lashing out with yet another tentacle, wrapping a second limb around the struggling Sierra Butcher. Then, still shrieking, its grip began to tighten. Raleigh hissed, feeling Yancy’s exhalation slip from between his teeth. Their Jaeger protested, metal creaking and groaning against the excess pressure. If the conn pod ruptured…

But, then, its leverage secured, Tribulation began to haul itself skyward, hefting its monstrous body up out of the sea. Baring its trunk and fins to the air. Presenting the target they needed. 

De Havilland Danger’s plasma launcher came online with a whirr, humming for the twenty seconds it took to charge. Hurry up, hurry, hurry… now!

Raleigh-and-Yancy lifted their wrist. Lined up the shot. And unloaded two bolts of pure plasma into the squid-like body of Tribulation. Both shots hit home, searing straight through the Kaiju where it loomed, suspended in mid-air. Two neat holes, right through its centre mass. Then it was falling, tentacles going slack as its gigantic body crashed back down towards the sea. 

“And we’ve got no life signs,” Tendo cheered, his voice seeming to come from everywhere, emerging from the speakers built into de Havilland’s conn pod. “Congratulations, Becket Boys, you’ve killed your first Kaiju.”

Raleigh felt Yancy’s surprise like his own. Huh, they really had. Well fancy that. 

“There we go,” Tiana-and-Alica whooped—in Alica’s voice—”that’s how you kill a Kaiju, Beckets.”

Raleigh-and-Yancy were grinning as they stepped closer, reaching out as Sierra Butcher closed the distance, one almighty metal arm slapping them across the back. Together, the Jaegers made their retreat, leaving the corpse for clean up, already circling like vultures.

Back at the Shatterdome, Raleigh-and-Yancy slipped away from each other, melting into two separate people and staggering apart, legs still wobbly underneath them as the techs stripped them of their drivesuits. When they emerged in plain clothes, it was to a chorus of cheers. 

This time only their fellow pilots were waiting for them. It felt right. Raleigh felt right. He felt unstoppable. Like a hurricane. Raleigh was on top of the world—and he didn’t have to turn his head to know Yancy was mirroring his grin. He could still feel his brother’s heartbeat in his chest. Could still feel his elation tickling Raleigh’s blood. His adrenaline mingling alongside Raleigh’s own. 

They let themselves be enveloped, dragged into a group hug by six pairs of arms. 

Raleigh wanted to crow his success, wanted to tip his head back and scream it to the skies. 

Instead, he let the other Rangers manhandle him to a party. They hadn’t quite taken over the mess—a Jaeger’s first kill was a big deal, but not that big that a base’s worth of techs wanted to celebrate it, and they couldn’t displace everyone else because of their fun—but they had commandeered one of the rec lounges. De Havilland Danger’s j-techs were there, and most of LOCCENT—Yancy made a bee-line for Tendo, throwing an arm over his shoulder and slipping instantly into wingmanning, somehow managing not to interrupt the conversation he was already in with a pretty base psych—and, of course, all eight Rangers who called Anchorage Shatterdome home. 

Raleigh let himself be yanked deeper into the crowd, accepted the cider that was pressed into his hand—a local brew, something they could get their hands on easily, not like hard liquor, which was harder to make these days and tariffed all to hell—and gave himself permission to bask in the moment. 

They deserved it, after all. Him and Yance had just killed a frickin’ Kaiju! Raleigh was still having trouble believing it. They’d finally made it, finally become fully-blooded Kaiju-killing Rangers. 

And it felt awesome. 

Still, as good as Raleigh felt, there was someone he wanted to share it with. 

He pulled out his phone, at just the wrong moment. 

“And what’s distracting you from the party?” Joe asked, appearing by his side. 

“I wanted to message a friend,” he shrugged, trying for nonchalant—only Yancy had made his way over, Tendo drifting in his wake, and Raleigh could already see where this was going. Fucking hell. 

“You got a crush, Becket Boy?” Tendo asked, leaning into Yancy’s side. Yancy shifted to take his weight, holding him easily. 

“I’m not the only one,” Raleigh groused, because two could play at that game. Yancy blushed. Tendo actually shut up. Score one, Raleigh. His victory didn’t last long. 

“I bet he does,” David teased. Raleigh’s head turned towards him, giving Sara the perfect opening to snatch his phone. 

“Hey!” he protested, reaching for it. Yancy laughed and caught it, just a second ahead of Raleigh’s grasping hands. He didn’t pass it back, not even when Raleigh dug his elbow into his brother’s gut, accidentally-on-purpose hitting right where he’d got him in the Kwoon the day before. Instead of giving in, Yancy tossed it to Tiana, who slipped it to Alica and then Rhiannon. 

Raleigh scowled, taking a long sip from his drink, glaring mutinously. Rhiannon laughed and passed it back. 

“Ease up there, Ranger. No harm done,” she reminded him. Raleigh’s glower lessened, slightly—she was right, they were just teasing, and it had happened so fast that Raleigh had barely been without his phone for even thirty seconds. 

Their fun had, the group drifted away, giving him his privacy in exchange for the interaction. Raleigh could respect that.

Still, he didn’t hesitate to ignore the party in favour of texting his friend. It was his celebration, he could spend it how he wanted. 

guess what, he began. 

Raleigh and Charlie—Ray and Charlie—hadn’t exactly exchanged names, but they hadn’t been bothered to hide their identities either. Really, it was only a quirk of the PPDC messaging system that they’d been introduced by their handles anyway. Sure it was a bit of fun, but what would be the point actually trying to hide who he was? They were both Rangers. Well, Ranger and hopeful. More than that, they were friends. And, potentially, something else as well. 

Still, Raleigh didn’t know enough to identify some random cadet, and Raleigh might be getting good—might be getting a handle on this whole Ranger business, might be gaining confidence and learning how to make Kaiju his bitch—but their Jaeger wasn’t exactly famous yet, or anything. Charlie probably wouldn’t know which Jaeger had made today’s kill—it hadn’t made the news, because it had been too far away from land for the public to even worry—not without looking it up in the PPDC stats, and if he did, so what? Raleigh had nothing to hide. 

So he didn’t bother to obfuscate. He wanted to brag to Charlie—well, to everyone, but Charlie especially. So he did. 

Killed my first Kaiju today. 

At this time of night—Charlie’s morning—the return message was quick in coming. 

Shit really? Congrats man
it is congrats yeah?

Oh yeah, Raleigh smirked, feeling proud enough to burst. My brother and I were badass. Only one other Jaeger on assist too. Practically a solo

Good work, ranger
Hoping for your first solo soon?

Raleigh hesitated. He knew what the right answer was—the proper answer, the responsible answer—who wanted a solo kill? Solos meant more danger, more risk, no one was meant to want that. But Raleigh did. He did. Him and Yance were going to hold the solo record one day, he just knew it. They were going to be infamous. 

Still, he demurred. 

Solos are shit man. Why would anyone want all of that on them

But, of course, Charlie knew him too well. The irreverence in his reply, when it came, made Raleigh snort. That was Charlie alright, cocky little shit, even as a cadet. He’d make a hell of a Ranger, some day. 

Ha. You can’t fool me, but okay, I get it mate. Fingers crossed its a safe one yeah?

Yeah, Raleigh agreed, because that was the goal right? An almost safe solo was the dream. 

What’s it like? 

What’s what like? Raleigh asked, noticing too late the way his head tilted with his confusion, feeling embarrassed—he hoped no one had noticed. Fighting Kaiju?

Well, yeah. But also. The dome, the other pilots, what’s it like 

Oh, yeah—what’s it like to be a Ranger. If the situation was reversed, Raleigh would be curious too. Curious and a little nervous, wondering if the life would suit him, if he’d fit. He wondered if that’s how Charls felt. 

But how to describe it? Not just the fight, the drift, but everything else—the camaraderie between Rangers, the companionship, the bond between everyone here, even the techs. United in purpose. All working together for something bigger than themselves. All having made the choice to devote their lives to service. And yeah, sometimes it was total crap, sometimes it was physically and mentally exhausting, sometimes training and the drift and everything else took him to his limits and pushed him beyond, but there was nowhere else Raleigh would rather be. Nowhere else he could picture himself. Nowhere else he fit. 

You’ve got the heart of a Ranger, chuckles. You’ve got the drive, the passion. You care, too. You’ll fit right in 

Whatever. Charls dismissed, instinctively. Raleigh waited. Sure enough…
You promise?

Raleigh smiled, soft and fond. He hid the expression in his beer. 

Absolutely. If there was one thing Raleigh knew, it was that one day Charls would make a phenomenal Ranger. 

As soon as they made it out the doors of the auditorium, Raleigh passed Yancy a fiver. His brother took it, smirking. Walking beside them, Joe groaned. 

“Fucking tour,” he muttered, digging for his wallet. A ten went to Yancy, for Joe and Sara both, Yancy gleefully split the profit with Alica as she sauntered over to them. 

“Called it,” she grinned, without remorse. Joe mumbled a curse. Poor guy. Not only had he backed the wrong candidate for the next Marshall, now that Callahan was retiring—Yancy and Alica had put their pride on Pentecost, Raleigh had followed Yance, Sara and Joe had bet on Kano—but, to add insult to injury, Tiana and David, who definitely would have bet on Vassilieva, had—luckily for them—been out on a speaking tour of the Academies and only just made it back, technically missing out on the bet. 

And now, they had to suffer the consequences. 

“Tonight,” Alica announced, absolutely dripping with good-natured malice. “I’ll go to the drug store before dinner, and then, Sara my dear, you meet your doom.”

“As I must,” Sara—the only one of them light enough to have hair that could be dyed drug store red without bleaching—accepted her duty with grace and dignity. Joe, on the other hand, was cursing up a storm. 

His hair was too dark to dye, and too tightly curled for anyone to want to even think the word ‘bleach’ in any sort of proximity, so he’d settled for promising to get his head buzzed. 

Raleigh was just glad that it wasn’t him and Yancy who’d lost. He didn’t want to know if his hair—tawny brown, only a little lighter than Yancy’s own—was light enough to take a dye, and neither of them had the brass balls needed to rock the shaved head look and not look like skinheads. Joe could definitely pull it off though, even if he didn’t want to. 

As promised, after dinner that night every Ranger on base crammed into Alica and Tiana’s bathroom. 

“Let’s fucking go, Rangers,” Tiana smirked, unveiling a crate of pre-mixed cocktails, vodka and honest to god orange juice, as if she’d never heard of rationing and the perennial shortages that had haunted humanity ever since the Kaiju had first reared their ugly heads. 

“Oh so that’s what you were doing when you were Academy hopping,” Alica smirked, dropping an affectionate kiss on the edge of her partner’s lips as she passed, arms laden with boxes of dye and a pair of clippers. “You were collecting hooch!”

“You’re welcome,” Tiana grinned, as Dave whooped, reaching out to snag a can and tossing it backwards. Rhiannon caught it without looking. Raleigh himself went for the OJ, actually fresh and not reconstituted. Yancy, the bastard, had to ruin it, dropping two nips into his tumbler when he wasn’t looking. Raleigh choked on his next sip, unsuspecting, and Joe—who’d been watching—snickered hard enough that he wasn’t even scowling as Sara slipped a towel around his shoulders, pushing him forward until he was kneeling on the floor of the shower. The rest of them crowded in behind him. 

“Anyone know how this works?” It was Sara, making a face as she studied one of the dye boxes, frowning slightly at the label ‘pillar box red’. 

“How hard can it be?” Joe snorted—teasing, because he was about to get his head shaved. Wrinkling her nose, she threw the box at him, hard. He caught it, tossed it on to the nearest person—Tiana—who chucked it to Alica. Alica rolled her eyes. 

“It’s easy, c’mon. Gotta start with wet hair,” she explained, digging up a towel in standard issue PPDC grey and folding it over her shoulders and around her neck. Because Joe had already claimed the shower, Alica motioned with one hand, behind her back, and Tiana—on her wavelength as always, the way all drift partners were —pushed a water bottle into it. Alica upended the whole thing over Sara’s head. Sara spluttered, everyone laughed. 

“And that’s what you get for backing Kano over Pentecost,” Yancy said, smugly. Sara flipped him off, shoving water out of her eyes. 

Alica sectioned off Sara’s hair, popped the box and dug out the tube of dye. David edged further into the room, picking up the clippers and revving them menacingly, approaching Joe with a smirk. 

Joe kept his head bowed, scowling, but not actually upset enough to protest. They’d stop, if he protested, and he knew it. 

“Rals,” Raleigh lifted his head, looking. Ah, David. “Speaker, over there,” he gestured with his head, to a spot by the door—and sure enough, there was a portable speaker. “My phone’s already hooked up, hit the volume, man.”

So he did. 

The playlist was one he recognised, one they’d all contributed to, making it a truly… eclectic mix. Somehow it fit the vibe perfectly. 

The first song was one Rhiannon had added, something boppy from the last decade, and she whooped gleefully as it came on. Raleigh found himself humming along as the clippers buzzed and Alica fed dye into Sara’s hair. It was a long process—her hair was thick and hung down to her mid back, not quite as long as Rhiannon’s, but long enough. 

They took turns, crowding around—overcrowding the bathroom—and elbowing each other out of the way. There really wasn’t room, somehow arms ended up strewn over shoulders, legs wound up resting on one another, backs leaning into sides—all eight of them devolving into an inextricable tangle of limbs. Raleigh loved it. It was, in fact, something he’d always wanted but never quite known how to name. To be, to settle, to belong. It’s addictive and it’s that, more than the alcohol, that had him giddy and giggling by the time it was his turn to smooth dye through Sara’s hair. 

Her hair was thick under his hands, long, already covered in dye but unevenly—Raleigh had an eye for detail, he was more than happy to spread it around, rather than simply dumping more in. Her scalp was warm beneath his fingers, soaked hair eager to envelop his hands. He massaged her skin gently, starting at the root and combing outwards, making sure everywhere’d gotten a thorough covering. She tilted her head under his ministrations, eyes drifting closed, half-lidded and content. 

“Once you rinse your hands off I dibs the next massage,” Rhiannon said, leaning up against his back to peer over his shoulder. 

The buzz of the clipper was a soothing drone beneath her voice and Raleigh shrugged, loose limbed, not making any move to dislodge her. 

“Sure,” he agreed, easily, passing Sara off to Yancy. Yance wasn’t quite as meticulous about it, but he was just as gentle. 

Raleigh picked a relatively empty patch of floor and gestured to it, dumping his drink on the counter and washing his hands—they stayed a little red, but that was okay. Rhiannon folded herself down, sitting cross legged in front of Raleigh, keeping her own drink in hand. Raleigh mimicked her, splaying his legs either side of her thighs and settling his hands on her shoulders. She reached back to grab her plait, long enough to reach almost to her ass, smooth black hair onyx-dark and lustrous. She pulled it out of the way, holding it in front of her as Raleigh dug his thumbs into the skin over her shoulder blades. 

He worked his hands inwards, massaging her neck and shoulders, gently working out the knots that had settled deep into her muscles, rubbing his thumbs down her spine—making Rhiannon arch her back and lean into it. 

She hummed contentedly, eyes mostly closed.

“You’re good at that, Becket”

Raleigh shrugged, moving his hands across the back of her neck again, fingers rubbing small circles along everything from her trapezius to her splenius cervicis. 

“You treat your lady like that?” David asked, abandoning Joe in favour of settling himself onto the floor nearby. Alica joined him, Tiana picking up the slack. 

“What lady?” Yancy snorted, rinsing red off his own hands—they’d used up all the dye, then, and now they had to wait. “Raleigh’s got a puppy crush on his penpal.”

Raleigh flushed, outraged but too deeply content to really get angry. At least at the moment. Luckily, no one batted an eye. 

“Nah, we mean your Jaeger. You pilot de Havilland this considerately?”

“Fuck you,” Raleigh snorted. But, well…

“Our lady, huh?” Yancy said, one eyebrow raised as he leaned up against Alica’s side, settling down, his outstretched legs sprawled out over David’s lap. “I think there’s some merit to that.”

“Better than de Havilland,” Raleigh snorted. 

“Less of a mouthful at least,” Tiana agreed, crossing the room to stow the clippers as Joe stood, tossing the towel backwards off of him, taking the cut hair with it. 

“I like it,” Yancy said, after a moment’s consideration. Raleigh nodded. 

“You see if we respond to anything else now,” he warned, feeling Rhiannon’s laughter beneath his hands. “We’re re-christening our Jaeger as Lady Danger.”

Joe snorted, shoving a hand into the side of Raleigh’s head affectionately, a moment before he dropped to the floor beside him, half-conquering what remained of Raleigh’s personal space. 

“Think the brass will have some thoughts on that one”

“Then they can take it up with the Lady herself,” Yancy shrugged, draining the rest of his drink and leaning further back against Alica. She shuffled to accommodate his weight, in turn relying on Tiana more for purchase. 

“The pair on you two,” Tiana snorted, but there was a fondness there that caught like a wick in Raleigh’s chest. 

“You know it,” he grinned, loose and easy. Sara, set apart from the tangle because of her not-yet-rinsed hair, chuckled. 

“Yeah, I can see that taking off,” she conceded, reaching for another drink herself. “It is less of a mouthful.”

“Easier to say when deployed,” Joe admitted, settling his newly shaved head against Raleigh’s. Raleigh reached up to stroke the spiky-short strands absently. “Lady as opposed to de Havilland.”

“The Lady Danger,” Yancy nodded, decisive. Raleigh agreed. It was a good name, a respectable name, a heroic name—a household name, in the way de Havilland would never be. Raleigh was looking forward to making the PPDC suck it. 

“Now that that’s sorted,” Sara huffed, standing and shaking out her stiff legs, heading over to the shower with her head bowed. “Someone help me rinse this out.”

So, of course, they did. It was a quicker process than getting the dye in—Sara tipped her head upside down, Tiana finangled the shower head, and Alica and Rhiannon began scrubbing. Eventually the water ran clear. 

Joe was waiting with the hair dryer when they finished. Sara took it, still bent double. Eventually, she straightened, dramatically flipping her hair in a way that didn’t quite work as intended, but definitely showed off its new colour. 

“Taking a stand against the Kaiju Blue, Ranger?” David joked, nodding towards Sara’s flaming vermillion hair. 

“For the sake of good hooch, how could I resist?” Sara fired back, quick off the mark. There was a general grumble of agreement—of all the changes wrought by the ecological nightmare that was Kaiju Blue, some could definitely be borne easier than others. Sara tossed her hair over her shoulder, still slightly damp around the edges. 

Tiana took the opportunity to toss her a can of pre-mixed. Sara cracked it, slurping up the froth that burst free.

Together, the Rangers of Anchorage toasted their new Marshall. 

He blinked blearily at his phone, trying to interpret what he was seeing. A photo. And a message. 

Score. Look what the mess had for lunch today

A photo. Not food. Not a memory. And he was? Not able to reply, at the least. 

It was a bad day. Raleigh still wasn’t Raleigh, hours after they’d come back from the drop. Their third kill. The Lady’s third kill. Their worst—strongest—ghost drift to date. 

Fuck off Yanc-leigh, they thought, together. 

Raleigh groaned, feeling Yancy’s tongue against his teeth. Fuck this. It was entirely too much. Get out of my-our-their head! Yancy wasn’t even in the room. He was somewhere- some—leaving LOCCENT, with Tendo, staggering, groaning, the man’s arm under his shoulder, talking to him, saying “it’s okay, breathe with me Yance, yeah there you go- fuck your heart’s going crazy”, Y- Raleigh was replying, with Yancy’s voice. “Ghost drift, fuck.” Tendo made a noise, inscrutable to Raleigh, but familiar as anything to Yancy, which meant Raleigh recognised it too. “Need Raleigh?” Ya- Ral- Yancy just groaned, nauseous, but Tendo hauled him onwards regardless—

Already Raleigh was feeling better, minutely. The walls had stopped pulsing, the lights no longer oozing—Yancy was coming. Proximity made the ghost drift easier to bear. Lessened the hangover. Made him feel more human, at least, less like the Lady, even if he wasn’t exactly one person yet. 

Somehow. He replied. 

Fuck 
Gd?

Yeah it is. You alright man?

Ghstn, Raleigh managed, eyes blurry and heart beating double time in his chest, thu-thum-thu-thum, pushing blood for him and Yancy both. Deep in the Shatterdome—five hallways away, closing at a snail’s pace, because Yancy was heavier than Tendo could carry—Raleigh knew Yancy’s heart was doing the same. 

Ghosting? Shit, really?

Nnh

Damn. That bad? 

It was Yancy that replied, clumsily moving Raleigh’s fingers, longer than his own and not quite as thick. Together, they wondered if the Lady’s fingers were twitching too. They’d probably find out tomorrow. 

Shut up kid. We can’t tall 2 you rn. 

Ray? Are you alright?
Was that even you? It didn’t sound like you

No, Raleigh explained, shoving back Yancy with the mental equivalent of a rude gesture. Piss off! Get your own. Brthr bein a dick. In m head

Woah, really?? 

Not as fun as it sounds kid, Yancy managed, because Raleigh was too busy being distracted by Tendo getting him-them-not Lady Danger-and neither to the door. Raleigh didn’t bother to stand, just rolled over, making room for Yance beside him on the bottom bunk. Tendo dropped him down inarticulately. 

“Shit boys, you two gonna be okay?”

“Gnghh,” they groaned, in sync, flipping uselessly for a moment before rolling in one motion—two bodies pivoting in tandem—shifting to face one another before sprawling, one of their heads on the other’s shoulder, someone’s hands flopped across someone’s back, knees a tangled mess between them. Seeking skin, seeking contact. 

Together. They were together. Everything else was a problem for later. 

Sweaty and pumped, Raleigh eyed Yancy. Yancy, the bastard, who very deliberately wasn’t putting down the twenty Raleigh wanted. 

“You sharing or are you gonna hog that all to yourself?”

“What, you want it pipsqueak?” Yancy teased, holding eye contact as he did another rep. 

“Any time, any place brother,” Raleigh warned, hopping from foot to foot, almost eager. Fuck, he wanted this. Wanted it now. Yancy just smirked, finally sitting the weight down. It was enough for Raleigh to know Yancy was gonna say yes. All thoughts of weights were forgotten, then. He had a much better offer. 

“Well let's get after it then. Kwoon?” 

“Kwoon,” Raleigh agreed. Together, they stowed their weights, wiping down the equipment they’d been using and moving from gym to dojo. 

The room wasn’t empty, when they arrived—Dave and Rhiannon and Tiana and Alica were already there—but there was space enough. 

They slipped off their shoes—Raleigh finished first, crossing the room barefooted to grab two bo staves from the rack on the other side. He tossed one backwards over his head without looking, hearing the slap of skin that meant Yancy had caught it. Nice. He turned, bouncing on the balls of his feet, more than ready. Yancy just grinned at him, rolling his shoulders. 

They bowed. Respectful. Then, Raleigh moved. He was too keyed up to be patient, and Yancy knew it—he dodged the strike easily, returning with his own. Raleigh bared his teeth. The quick return was proof that Yancy was feeding off his energy. Raleigh’s own excitement was refracted back at him, reflected in his partner—returned twofold. They were both eager, want ricocheting between them like fire, the both of them raring to go. Raleigh was already looking forward to this. 

He didn’t hesitate in his own return, didn’t hold back—didn’t need to. Yancy knew him almost better than he knew himself. In a way, fighting with Yancy was almost like he was fighting himself. They both knew, without consciously needing to think about it, how to move around the other, where to strike, how to draw things out. And when they didn’t have to think, there was more room to simply have fun. 

Raleigh struck—right, left, low, left, right, low on the left—Yancy dancing backwards as he met each blow with his own, blocking the strike or pushing it aside. Then, Yancy squared his stance, caught three strikes in quick succession and followed up, pushing forward, taking the momentum for his own. 

Raleigh planted his left foot, floated the right as he twisted, holding the staff vertically as he knocked Yancy’s thrust aside. Yancy just pivoted, going with it and spinning—a stupid, ridiculous move that put his back to Raleigh, but of course he just ducked Raleigh’s return strike, because the fucker had known Raleigh wouldn’t go for the torso instead of the head—returning to face him and sweeping at his knee. 

Raleigh went with it, because it was better to fall than let Yancy break his fucking knee. He rolled, taking the staff with him and not cracking his chin on it the way he used to. He popped back up to his feet, conceding the point to his brother with a dip of his head. 

Yancy smirked and Raleigh took that for the acceptance it was. He launched himself forward, again, sliding his hands down low until they touched, sweeping the staff in an overhand. Yancy met it, of course, hands spread, diffusing the power of his strike. Raleigh yanked his staff back towards him, sliding his hands—there, quick and dirty—thrusting forward enough to catch Yancy in the gut. 

He felt the breath leave his brother’s body in a huff. 

“Fuck, kid,” Yancy gasped, clutching at the spot. Winded. 

Distantly, someone laughed. Raleigh looked up. The clatter of wood-on-wood that had filled the dojo upon their entrance had paused—both other sets of pilots taking a breather to watch them. 

Raleigh felt his cheeks redden. That hadn’t been the nicest move. 

A moment or two later, and Yancy had recovered enough to snort in derision. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Nope,” Alica smirked, expression shit-eating and unrepentant.

Still, it was easy enough to ignore their audience—and, eventually, the other Rangers got back to it. 

It was Raleigh who managed the next point, deliberately abandoning his favoured pattern in closing the distance between him and Yance. Edging closer until he could dart forward, dropping his staff and catching Yancy’s right wrist. Turning and twisting. Stepping to the side and using his own momentum to flip his brother over his shoulder. 

Yancy hit the mat well, because he knew what he was about—not quite quick enough on the recovery to avoid it as Raleigh followed him to the ground, scrambling for a pin.

He didn’t manage it. Yance was ready for him. Foot already up to catch him at the hip, pushing up and across even as his hands fisted in Raleigh’s singlet, giving him control of their motion as he flipped them over, until Yancy was straddling him from above.

The hardest part about sparring with someone who could call the inside of your head their own, was that they knew what you were going to do as well as you yourself did. Really, the only way to win such a fight—and oh, how he and Yance both wanted to win, competitive fuckers that they were—was to surprise even yourself. 

It was a skill, and a difficult one at that. You had to move beyond instinct, beyond thought—you had to simply move, to let your body steer you. And half the time even that wasn’t enough. 

They wrestled. Flipping over and over. Straining against each other. Twisting and moving, sliding thighs across hips, hands keeping legs under control. 

It was brutal. It was harsh straining and heavy breathing, muscles and bodies working as one against each other. 

It was delightful. 

Raleigh was high on it, flush with sweat and adrenaline and endorphins. High on life. On the thrill. 

Yancy wasn’t any better.

Eventually, Yance managed a hold—Raleigh strained against it, threw himself in every direction he could, giving his all to finding purchase. Then Yance got a strangle on him, and Raleigh gave up. 

When he tapped out, Yancy let him go immediately. Pushing him away slightly to give himself room to stand, reaching out to help Raleigh to his feet. 

Raleigh stood, breathing hard. 

Now it was their turn to watch their companions. Giving themselves a rest until they were ready to go again. 

Rhiannon and David were graceful and well-honed, almost dancing more than fighting—spending an incredible length of time trading blows back and forth with neither scoring a point. In contrast, Alice and Tiana were juggernauts. They threw themselves at each other, neither holding back—they’d both have bruises, by the time they finished. The atmosphere between the two women was charged, heavy, and Raleigh knew the two of them used the Kwoon as foreplay. Raleigh supposed it would be pretty good for that sort of thing. 

It wasn’t the same, for him and Yance, but it wasn’t not the same either. It was still fun, still playful, a conversation, a back and forth—just, where their conversation led was different, is all. Like Dave and Rhiannon. They weren’t a couple, they were friends—definitely closer to him and Yancy than Tiana and Alica.

But still, the way Tiana and Alica fought… it was enough to give Raleigh ideas. Even as he accepted his staff from Yancy, he couldn’t shift the thought. Watching the women had been enough to make him wonder what it would be like to spar with Charlie. To finally meet him. To banter and trade blows, sussing each other out. 

Would they get on, in person? Surely. 

Well enough to drift? Maybe. Probably. 

Charlie was apparently low-level compatible with most people, and he and Raleigh had been friends for years. It was possible, at least. Maybe one day they’d even get to find out. It could be fun, even, and it might be a good idea to have a backup already sorted, in case Yancy got hurt or needed a break. It was the kind of thing the PPDC encouraged, even if it was uncommon for most Rangers to take them up on it. 

Raleigh would consider it, once Charlie graduated. Once they met. Once they could-

“Oi,” Raleigh stumbled, catching a bo staff to the thigh. Yancy smirked.

“Get your head in the game, kid,” he teased, circling Raleigh. Raleigh mimicked his footsteps instinctively, the two of them orbiting in place. “Still daydreaming about your Charlie?”

“I will shatter your jaw, you see if I don’t,” Raleigh warned. Yancy just laughed. They both knew it was an empty threat. 

“Best out of nine?” Yancy offered. Raleigh grinned, loose and easy. 

“You’re on, old man”

Raleigh looked up when Joe swanned into the room, arms outstretched. He shoved his phone into his pocket—no reply yet, anyway—because he could just tell something was coming. Sure enough…

“Games night, Becket boys!” 

Yancy lifted his head. 

“We’ve got the small rec room reserved,” Joe explained, reaching out to help Yancy to his feet. “Get your asses in gear.” 

Raleigh accepted the hand, when Joe extended it. The older Ranger hefted him upright effortlessly, slinging an arm around Raleigh’s shoulders and snagging Yancy on the way, getting the other man under his other arm. 

“What’re we playing?” Raleigh asked. In his pocket, his phone remained silent—given the time, Charlie was probably in class. Raleigh could safely forget about it for a couple hours. 

He felt Joe shrug. 

“Pictionary, I think. Maybe charades. Ben’s setting it all up”

Raleigh saw Yancy nod. Like last time, then. Ben was a j-tech mate of Joe’s, one of Champion Triumphant’s crew, who hung out with the lot of them when they all got together. He’d probably be the only tech there tonight, though. No one bothered to play the Rangers in anything that involved teamwork, even when they switched up their partners—even Tendo couldn’t be tempted into it, not even with the promise of hanging out with Yancy. 

By the time they made it to the smallest rec room, the other Rangers were already there, well-entrenched in a semi-circle of sagging couches and under-stuffed chairs, facing two whiteboards that had very clearly been stolen from one of the j-tech design labs. 

“Beckets!” Rhiannon greeted them, nodding towards a vacant couch. Raleigh and Yancy followed the implicit order obediently enough. 

“Looking good boys,” Dave said, Alica sitting beside him sorting through a pile of cards—pictionary, then. By Raleigh’s side, Yancy puffed up his chest. Raleigh couldn’t help but stand a little straighter himself, arrogant as a peacock and twice as proud. They were looking good, both clad in their new PPDC issue bombers—replaced after a very unfortunate accident in the labs that absolutely hadn’t been his fault thank you Yancy. But it had come with the very unexpected bonus of getting them new jackets, still adorned with the wings of a Jaeger over their heart and now emblazoned across the back with the name ‘Lady Danger’, instead of ‘de Havilland’. Even their left breasts declared their affiliation with the ‘Lady’, embroidered in perfect cursive. 

They did make a damn good looking pair, if Raleigh said so himself. The PPDC must agree too, not just because of the jackets—which, really, probably had more to do with the fact that the both of them were getting featured in promos more often, starring as the golden boys of the public, playing the part of the home-grown all American heroes—and never, not once, saying ‘de Havilland’ in place of the ‘Lady’. 

“How is your Lady doing?” Sara asked, taking a seat on the arm of the couch and leaning against David’s shoulder. “J-techs fix that issue with the coolant yet?”

“Yeah,” Yancy shrugged, leaning forward to snag a handful of cards from Alica, paging through them idly. “She should be good to go in a couple more days, you don’t have to worry about going it alone out there.”

“Dumbass,” Tiana snorted, taking one of the two trays of snacks from Ben as he arrived and sitting it very firmly out of Yancy’s reach. “We were doing this before you graduated, junior.”

“Before you even enlisted, probably,” Joe shrugged, snatching a slice of red liquorice from the tray and pegging it affectionately at Yancy’s head. Raleigh caught it, eating it absently as the elder Ranger took the cards from Yancy and Alica, handing them over to Ben. “Keep it humble, kids.”

“Yeah yeah, old timer,” Raleigh laughed, leaning back into the chair, feeling the wool of his jacket’s collar against his neck. “You and your Mark-II are still packing a punch.”

“And don’t you forget it, Mark-III upstart.”

“Rangers, Rangers if you wouldn’t mind,” Ben interrupted, voice raised. Sheepish, Raleigh fell silent, the rest of the room likewise chastened. 

“Now the game is simple,” Ben continued, moving to stand between the two white boards. “Three pairs, no talking, pure competition.”

Tiana whooped. This time, no one protested—if there was one thing Rangers took as seriously as work, it was making a competition out of which pairs were more in sync. 

“Select a card at random, I’ll spin the wheel, then whichever category it lands on the selector has to draw. Whichever team guesses what their partner is drawing first wins, whoever has the most wins in an hour is declared most drift compatible, until next time.”

“Ready?” Joe asked, fingers hovering over his phone. A chorus of rowdy agreement, and Joe’s thumb came down. The sound bar across the room, beside the telly, lit up—filling the probably too-small-for-that-volume space with the bouncing bop of Lou Bega’s famous one hit wonder. 

This time, David was the one to cheer. 

“And draw your cards, people!” Ben announced. Raleigh dove forward without having to deconflict with Yancy, fingers finding a card. 

“And category is… object”

Raleigh looked down at the card, dog eared at the edges—a second-hand set that he knew had been passed between at least two Shatterdomes before now. 

Bookend. 

Sara had beaten Raleigh to the nearest whiteboard, Tiana taking prime position at the other, so Raleigh slotted himself in next to the blonde, not bothering to pay attention as Rhiannon joined Tiana at the second board. 

Bookend. He began drawing books, three should be enough, then an L-shaped backstop, with a curved diagonal. He was adding pages when Alica won, with laundry detergent. 

He got the next round, guessing action: haircut after thirteen seconds. Then Joe, living thing: parent, and Tiana, difficult: humidity. 

Things were fine until the next round. Raleigh had gotten action: skipping and was just starting on his stick figure when Tiana turned back to the group. She held one arm out in front of her, bent close to her body, the other behind, both hands a bit lower than chest high. Then she bent her knees, miming walking, wobbling like a sloshed heron. It made no sense to him, but was quicker than drawing, and—some fucking how—Alica leapt straight to her feet. 

“Sneaking!” she announced. 

“Cheater!” Dave accused, leaping up himself and whirling on her. “This is pictionary, not charades! If you didn’t draw it, it doesn’t count”

“Well actually-“ Tiana said, stepping forward. David didn’t hesitate to get up in her face, the two Rangers squaring up in an instant. Raleigh himself was a little pissed off, too, but he wasn’t about to get involved. Not when he could just sit back and watch. 

“Yeah I’m calling bullshit,” David drawled, attempting to loom over the other Ranger. It didn’t quite work out for him—Tiana was almost as tall as him, and definitely just as built—and, in a fight, Raleigh’s money would absolutely be on Tiana. 

“Alright alright, that’s enough!” Ben interrupted, physically getting between them and shoving both Rangers back. Raleigh felt himself relax, without even having realised he was getting ready for a fight. And that was why they had a tech arbitrate. Shit got heated. 

“Keep it clean or the whole thing’s canned, got it?” 

Neither Ranger could meet his eyes, which was objectively hilarious—because Ben wouldn’t crack sixty kilos sopping wet—but subjectively incredibly effective, because even Raleigh felt cowed, and he hadn’t been involved. He didn’t doubt the rest felt about the same, Yancy at least he knew did. 

“Apologies, now” the diminutive j-tech ordered, and both Rangers dropped their eyes further, mumbling very chagrined apologies. Then, to show there were no hard feelings, they clasped hands, pulling the other into a one-armed hug. Ben nodded, satisfied. 

They returned to the game. While there was chirping aplenty and more than a few insults that were just the wrong side of good-natured, things didn’t threaten to get physical again. 

In the end, Tiana and Alica won, which the rest of them were maybe a bit dirty about, but there hadn’t been another charades incident so Raleigh supposed he could concede the win—anyone who could guess ‘dense’ in under thirty seconds probably deserved it anyway.

The rest seemed to be thinking about the same, sulking a little as the women crowed their success and shared a passionate kiss, but there was no bitterness there—not really. They were all Rangers, all peers, and all serving together. Besides, there’d be another chance next month, and Raleigh was determined that next time he and Yancy would pip the lot. 

Two solos down, and Lady Danger was making a name for herself. They were only three drops away from overtaking Boxer Mekong and beating the assisted kills record. Raleigh could almost taste it. He was eager, raring—oh, how he wanted it. And after that, of course, they’d be coming for the solo record too. They were practically halfway there already—almost everyone was almost halfway there, the PPDC managed the shit out of which pilots got which missions—but still, he and Yancy were damn good Rangers. He knew Yance wouldn’t aim for the solo record—which meant Raleigh wouldn’t, either, and he even agreed about it—but assists? Yeah, that was going to be deliberate. They were too alike for it to be otherwise. 

Raleigh was, maybe, bragging to Charlie a little more than he should. He just couldn’t help himself. He and Yancy were thriving, at the top of their game, and—well—Charlie was someone he could brag to without sounding like he was up himself. All Raleigh’s other friends were already Rangers, he’d just sound like a wanker if he crowed to them too much. 

It was, quite possibly, giving Charlie a skewed picture of just how cocky Raleigh was. He wasn’t that arrogant, was he? But he couldn’t dismiss the kid’s accusation out of hand, not when Charlie seemed to actually be worried about him. 

This is serious Ray. Don’t be so arrogant you end up hurt, or worse, letting civilians get killed

Sure, Raleigh—and Yancy—were probably a little more confident than they needed to be, but it wasn’t like they didn’t have the right to it. It wasn’t like they’d ever let civilians get hurt, either, no matter what—that was why they were Rangers. Still, maybe they could dial it down a little with the swanning around. Didn’t want to offend anyone. And it wasn’t like they weren’t serious when it came time for the drop. He could probably stand to grow up a bit and stop acting like a puffed up kid. Quiet confidence was always a better look. 

But there was no need to admit any of that to Charlie. 

You have a point Charls, he told him, because he cared about letting Charlie know he was actually listening to him. I’ll dial it down. But you’ll understand when you’re a ranger. Being in a Jaeger’s like nothing else, you’ll get it then. Feels like you’re a force of nature, like a hurricane or a tsunami or something, it’s incredible

He was expecting the reply, when it came, to be more good-natured teasing. Expected Charlie to call him a pompous ass or something, because it did sound a little wanky. But instead, Charlie greeted him with insecurity. 

You really think I’ll make it as a Ranger?

It was enough to take Raleigh aback, honestly, didn’t Charlie know he thought he’d be great? Had Raleigh really never told him? And Charlie himself, since when did he admit to doubt? Had he really been unsure of himself this whole time? 

Raleigh had to reassure him. But not by making it a big deal. Nothing got the kid to clam up faster than over-the-top emotional connection. So he’d play it cool, this time, and definitely make a point to compliment the other man more often. 

Of course. Look forward to dropping with you

This time, there was a long, long pause between messages, even though Raleigh could see Charlie typing and backspacing and typing again. 

Eventually, when the response came, Raleigh wasn’t even surprised. This time, it’s as expected. It was a change of topic, but still, he could tell Charlie was happy, pleased by Raleigh’s words. It made something warm and glowing ignite in his chest, to realise that he had done that, him. He’d absolutely be complimenting Charlie more often, passive-flirting be damned. 

Anyway. Do u watch ranger interviews?

It was an obvious deflection, but Raleigh didn’t mind. He understood how Charlie worked, by now. 

Nah not really. Why, you a fan? Got a favourite Jaeger chuckles?

Bugger off mate 

And then, because Raleigh did know Charlie. 

Maybe. It’s not weird, we literally have to watch those videos at the academy, sometimes

Raleigh snorted, shaking his head. 

Hey, I’m not judging kid. Who’re you into? Vortex Dawn yeah? No, Waltzing Matilda right? 

Predictably, Charlie overreacted to his teasing. 

What?? No way
Just cause I’m australian doesn’t mean I follow our jaegers. Besides, then itd have to be lucky seven and no way

Again, Raleigh snorted, smiling. He didn’t bother asking what was wrong with Lucky Seven—last he’d heard, her pilots were good men, and Hercules Hansen especially was famous for being the only universal drifter. Maybe it was the expectation that he should like them that had Charlie rejecting the idea?

The next message made his expression freeze. 

I like lady danger. She’s pretty new, I think, hasn’t been in too many of those stupid promos thr PPDC like to trot out, but she’s collecting the assists like no ones business, and her pilots are pretty cool

Raleigh nearly choked on air. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Him, Charlie was hero-worshipping him? No way. There was no way their conversation had gone from Charls telling Raleigh to cool it with the arrogance to the very same man admitting Raleigh was his secret hero. And yet… 

Pretty cool eh? 

He couldn’t help himself from wanting to hear more. 

Well yeah. Probably didn’t see their last interview but DAMN

Damn??

Oh shut up.  They’re hot. You have eyes, admit it

Charles wtf??

Oh grow up Ray, I can be attracted to other people 

Well of course. I didn’t mean it like that 

Raleigh hesitated. Should he explain? That not only was it kind of weird Charlie found Yancy attractive but that Raleigh— Ray— himself was one of the Lady’s pilots. That he was one of the Rangers Charlie idolised? 

Before he had a chance to decide, Charlie continued on. 

Oh. Good then. Anyway it’s not just that, I respect them. Ik it’s probably pr but they really do seem like what rangers are meant to be you know? 
Probably don’t want to actually meet them and have the illusion ruined but yeah, in their last interview you could tell they were totally exhausted, like they’d come straight from the fight and still bothered to talk to the people 

Charlie wasn’t wrong. Raleigh remembered that interview. It had been a crap time for it. He and Yance had just come down from a three-hour drift, at the bitter end of a week rostered on, finally escaping the fight in the middle of the fucking day only to be dragged practically straight from the conn pod and marched out before the journos.  

They’d still been sweaty for fuck’s sake, the media team hadn’t even let them shower before they’d been snagged and pushed out front. Barely out of their drivesuits, clad only in the too-loose sweats and too-tight shirts they’d been wearing when the call had come through—and, of course, their jackets. 

Still riding the high, and already dreading the inevitable come down, neither of them had been PR perfect. Which, apparently, had been what the media team had been going for. Something about humanising them, making them appeal to the masses. 

Raleigh was never going to understand them, or what the public wanted, but they’d definitely eaten up his and Yancy’s performance. He’d seen his own face on a magazine the next day. A goddamn magazine. It was bizarre. 

Even weirder to think of Charlie, at the Academy, looking up to Raleigh like some sort of idol. 

That’s what rangers are meant to be. They make people hope. They sacrifice 

And oh. Oh fuck. It probably would have been better if Charlie was just attracted to him, no he had to go and actually respect them, actually look up to them. It was- Raleigh didn’t really know what to do with that. It was kind of cool to think that he was worthy of Charlie’s admiration, and if he wanted to keep the illusion—and he’d said as much, hadn’t he—then Raleigh would definitely ruin things for him if he came clean. If Charlie knew it was really dumbass Raleigh—or, Ray, rather—in the conn pod then he’d definitely lose his hero worship for the Lady. 

Besides, Raleigh had to admit it felt good to be liked for himself and his image, separately. He got enough people flocking to him in bars and on the street, it was reassuring to know that even if Charlie liked Ranger R Becket, pilot of the Lady Danger, he’d liked Raleigh as himself first. 

And it was maybe a little funny. Raleigh kind of had to find it funny. Charlie was definitely gonna be stoked, once he figured it out. Either stoked or embarrassed. Either way, hilarious. 

Plus, it was definitely flattering. To think that not only did Charlie like him, the dorky oversharing Raleigh, but was also attracted to him, the blue-eyed competent badass with an uneven grin. It was good to know that, when they met, Raleigh’s looks wouldn’t be a let down. The knowledge assuaged a worry he hadn’t even really known he’d felt until it disappeared. 

So Raleigh held his metaphorical tongue. He’d save the knowledge for some unspecified point in the future, when the revelation would have maximum impact. He’d just have to- Raleigh felt himself flush as he realised he was going to have to care a lot more about how he looked the next time he was dragged into an interview, now that he knew Charlie would be watching. 

Dammit, Yancy was going to give him hell for this. 

The first thing Raleigh noticed, upon dragging his sorry ass to the mess—coming straight from a meeting with the brass, which always sucked—was that Yancy was an absolute bastard. Here Raleigh was, in his pollies, having spent the past hour and a half alternatively bored out of his mind and on the back-foot defending himself and the other Rangers, whereas Yancy, who’d skipped the meeting because it conflicted with a very important session with LOCCENT, was comfortable as anything in his flightsuit and already at the tail-end of his meal, deep in conversation with Tendo. They were both bastards, actually, because Yancy lifted his head to catch Raleigh’s eye, winking as the younger man detoured to pile up a tray. Those fuckers. Raleigh would bet anything the ‘very important meeting’ had been bullshit. Dammit. He wished he could have gotten in on that. But no, he wasn’t the one with their operator making moon eyes at him. 

Actually… the thought gave Raleigh an idea. 

Finally taking his tray, Raleigh had no compunctions about interrupting with extreme prejudice. He announced his arrival with a clatter, sitting his tray down loudly as he dropped into the seat beside Yancy, elbowing his way into their moment—literally, his pointy joint digging into Yancy’s side. 

“You fuck as well as you kiss, Tendo?” Raleigh began, without preamble. Yancy choked on the mouthful of stew-soaked bread he’d been trying to eat. 

“Is this sexual harassment, little Becket man?” Tendo asked, eyebrows raised and expression more than a little mocking—but he didn’t bother to look away from Yancy. 

Yancy snorted, cheeks reddening. Still, he smirked—like the asshole he was—undeterred. 

“Well, I’m keen to find out,” he drawled, leaning back in his seat and flashing Tendo a suave grin, raising and lowering his eyebrows in a ‘come hither’ sort of way. Raleigh slapped him upside the head. 

“And I’m not,” he reminded them. “And you’ve got about seven more hours before the pre-roster prohibition kicks in. Do not give me fresh memories, gents.”

“Scouts honour,” Tendo smirked. 

“Shithead,” Raleigh mumbled, rolling his eyes as he dug out his phone. Tendo had absolutely never been a boy scout, Raleigh would put hard-earned money on that. 

Still grumbling, Raleigh snapped a quick photo of his tray—actual beef stew and fresh bread rolls were something to brag about, especially when paired with actual fresh fruit too, even if the vegetables had been freeze-dried. 

He sent it off to Charlie, only then realising he’d given Tendo and Yancy the perfect opening. 

Tendo didn’t disappoint. 

“Do you have a beau, Becket Number Two?”

Before Raleigh could figure out how to address that, Yancy was already speaking. 

“Nah,” Raleigh’s dipshit of an older brother smirked, because he knew exactly how Raleigh felt about Charlie. “It's his little Academy project. His mentee or whatever, the kid’s made it through so far and they never stopped talking.”

“No shit?” Tendo said, grin slowly growing on his face, Cheshire wide and coprophagous. Raleigh groaned. 

“For real,” Yancy answered for him. 

“Huh,” Tendo smirked, smug. “So how ‘bout it, are you giving Yancy any memories he doesn’t want to think about?”

“We’re not- isn’t-“ Raleigh blushed, feeling very much like Yancy owed him for this. 

“They’re not dating,” Yancy shrugged, mopping up the last of his meal. The yet was unspoken but very much heard. 

“Oh-ho!” Tendo crowed. Raleigh groaned. 

“Tendo Choi. Do fuck off.”

Yancy snorted, turning to Tendo—who’d already finished his own meal. 

“Well what do you reckon Tendo, want to go rattle my brother’s head?”

Tendo, damn him, flushed, cheeks pinking. Raleigh hid his smirk. 

“Don’t mind if I do,” the man agreed, aiming for casual. “Later, Raleigh.” He said, standing and letting Yancy take his tray, stacking them both and disappearing together on their way out of the mess. 

Once they were gone, Raleigh smiled. 

Yancy would be thanking him for that, later. And Raleigh would be thanking him for a week’s worth of his dessert ration, fair payment in exchange for setting the scene. They really had needed a push. It had been downright painful watching the two of them orbit each other for years now, neither confessing even after they’d started trading kisses on a semi-regular basis. So Yance had asked Raleigh to set them up, to help push him into finally admitting the fact he wanted to date the other man. And, later, Raleigh knew Yancy would absolutely fess up to it too, the sap. He just hoped Yance had the decency to confess before the sex—long enough before that they’d settle as distinct memories, so Raleigh wouldn’t have to see that every time his brother thought about Tendo. 

Fervently hoping, Raleigh checked his phone. No response yet. That was okay—it was midday tomorrow in Japan, Charlie was probably busy. Raleigh had time to wait. It wasn’t like he’d be going back to his and Yancy’s room in a hurry anyway. 

When Boxer Mekong lost the assists record to the Lady Danger, Anchorage Shatterdome turned itself inside out in celebration. Even without Sara and Joe—at the time, Champion Triumphant had recently been permanently reassigned to Northern Europe, leaving a hole in the social fabric of the ‘Dome in their wake—the place had turned out. It had been a point of pride, to be homing the Jaeger with the most assists in history. 

It was everything Raleigh had ever dreamed of.

He and Yance had been beyond heroes, they’d been the belles of the ball. Everyone had wanted to know them. The freshly graduated recruits that rotated through followed them around like devotees—which had been annoying as hell, actually—hanging off their every words, and Rhiannon and David and Tiana and Alica had been at their sides through it all. They’d had their backs. The six of them had been a close-knit team, a well-oiled machine. Perfectly honed. 

Everything had been good. Better than good. They’d been great—not perfect, because Sara and Joe should have been there, they should have, Anchorage had always been their base, they’d been her first Rangers—but great nonetheless. Raleigh couldn’t deny it felt good. 

And then they’d begun to close in on legendary Jaeger Vermillion Phoenix’s—The Phoenix’s—solo record. And things had changed. 

It had started subtly, at first. There was a distance around them now, a hesitance. It wasn’t just in Anchorage. Things were changing in the PPDC. Things felt different, now. Jaegers were being shuffled around regularly, pilots were racking up more solos, left to stand on their own more often—and, most damning, Academy enrolments were down and the UN wasn’t up in arms about it. 

It made Raleigh feel uneasy. 

They were being deployed to other regions now too, sent in to assist—they’d dropped in Manila last month, and off Cape Town two months before. He and Yance were famous. Lady Danger was famous. 

And still, it felt like the beginning of the end of an era. But that couldn’t be true, humanity needed the Jaegers, needed some way of holding off the Kaiju. So he tried to put it out of his mind, as much as he could. Yancy helped. Yancy had no time for geopolitical trends, he was dating Tendo and so ridiculously happy about it that Raleigh found the joy kindled in his own chest, some days. 

Still, he expected things to get better. 

He really did. 

They didn’t. 

When the Lady finally drew even, things got even worse. It didn’t make sense to Raleigh—if The Phoenix could hold the record, why couldn’t the Lady?—but that didn’t stop it happening. 

People left a bit more of a berth around them, the j-techs didn’t harass their table as much, and the newer Rangers didn't stop by to hang out. It didn’t make sense, to Raleigh or Yancy. They were used to awe from the public, but not from other pilots. Not from their brethren. It made Raleigh feel weird, made the ‘Dome feel ill-fitting, like there was a distance there now that wasn’t meant to exist. Yancy was buffered, of course, because he spent so much time with Tendo—and by extension, some of the other techs—but what else did Raleigh have? 

Without his community at his back, Raleigh felt so alone. So lonely, in this place that was meant to be his home. Sure he had Tiana and Alica, still, but the rest? He’d thought these people were his friends, even those he didn’t know very well, they’d been friendly, hadn’t they? Where had that gone?

It didn’t help that shortly after they matched the solo record—no more than a week, which was downright insulting—Eagle Triumphant was moved on. Dave and Rhiannon were shipped out to Singapore, leaving Anchorage down to only two Jaegers. It hurt, to lose their friends. It hurt worse that the base was setting them apart, that they couldn’t even balm the loss with the rest of their community, because they were losing that too. 

Raleigh didn’t want fame, didn’t want glory—not anymore, not if it meant this. If Charlie knew, would he pull away from Raleigh too?

So Raleigh didn’t tell him, even when Charlie started dropping hints and asking leading questions. He deflected, he changed the topic, he made a joke out of it. Anything to avoid naming himself, to avoid losing Charlie the way he was losing everything else. 

Raleigh just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Things had been fine, and then they’d made it as Rangers, become what everyone wanted to be, and in the process he’d lost everything he’d loved about being a Ranger. How? How could it have happened? And how the hell could Raleigh fix it?

Even the older pilots they met when they deployed overseas, the ones who’d served longer than Raleigh and his brother, who had always treated them with just that little bit of patronisation, now they treated them differently. Followed their lead in the drop. As if Raleigh and his brother were special. Were different. Some of the last generation treated them with more respect, others finally as equals, and the rest just pulled away. As if they weren’t comrades anymore. As if they wanted to distance themselves from the inevitable fallout if the Becket Brothers were to crash and burn. 

Yancy just snorted and shook his head, a little disdainfully—easy for him, insulated by Tendo—and for all that Raleigh mirrored him, he couldn’t make himself believe it. Couldn’t dismiss it. Unlike Yancy, Raleigh was taking the change personally. 

Unlike Yancy, Raleigh felt like he was about to lose everything.

0330 in the morning found Raleigh alone in the cavernous gym, belting out a steady 8 minute mile, because being up before the ass-crack of dawn meant it was evening in Japan—2030, precisely—which meant Charlie had finished up for the day, had finished dinner and showered and now had time free to chill. The senior cadet was getting busier, these days, as graduation neared, and Raleigh was happy enough to be flexible, if it meant still getting to talk as often as they had come to expect. 

It didn’t hurt that Charlie’s graduation meant that Raleigh could ask him out, properly this time, and they were both getting keen. Eager, now that the wait was almost over. It made Raleigh hope. Gave him something to be excited about, gave him a reason to be optimistic, to push past the dread gnawing at his bones. When he was talking to Charlie, Raleigh could forget everything else—if this was how Yancy felt, with Tendo close at hand, he could maybe understand why his brother hadn’t been bothered by everything that had happened. With Charlie officially his significant other, Raleigh hoped he’d feel the same. 

“Big day 2moz?” Charlie asked, his message narrated through Raleigh’s headphones. He couldn’t text and run so he’d decided to try out text to speech, and it was working surprisingly well. It almost felt like a phone call, if he could overlook the robotic voice reading Charlie’s messages aloud. It made Raleigh wonder why they hadn’t called, actually—except for the chance Charlie would recognise his voice, which wouldn’t matter so much soon anyway. It was a good idea. He resolved to suggest it, later, when they had the time. 

“Nah, same old same old,” Raleigh denied, feeling the drag on his lungs as he spoke. Good, he needed all the distraction he could get. “What about you? Getting to the pointy end of your training, cadet.”

“And still acing it, Ranger” the robot voice replied for Charlie. “Gonna be top of my class, you wait and see.”

“I believe you, chuckles. Gonna be proud of you, when you graduate a full fledged Ranger.”

The next reply was slow coming, which Raleigh really should have expected, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his thrumming heart and too-controlled breaths. Dumbass. Charls was flighty at the best of times, when it came to unobscured emotions, Raleigh really should’ve known better. Anyone who knew Charlie—admittedly, that still wasn’t many—could see his daddy issues a mile off. Raleigh really should’ve known better than to say something like that. He didn’t even know if the kid’s own father would be proud of him, or if it was merely expected. 

When Charlie finally did reply, Raleigh’s legs were burning—he’d upped the speed, during the wait, to give himself something to do. He eased it back down hurriedly, panting, pushing sweat back off his forehead and wiping his hand on his shorts. 

“Whatever. Tell me something, jackass”

Ah, changing the topic. Raleigh had expected that, at least. He went with it. 

“What do you want to know, cadet?”

“That’s senior cadet to you, Ranger”

“Oh you’re right,” Raleigh returned, snorting a laugh and then regretting it as the disruption in his deliberately controlled breathing made his side twinge. “My humblest apologies, senior cadet”

“Wanker”

“Takes one to know one,” he sing-songed around increasingly ragged breathing. Maybe this wasn’t the pace for an in depth chat. Prioritising, Raleigh knocked the treadmill back down to something more reasonable. 

“What are you, five?”

“That’d make you an infant,” Raleigh returned, just as quickly as Charlie’s own rejoinder had come. 

“Well we can’t have that”

“Definitely not,” Raleigh agreed, going back over his mental note to arrange a time to call and adding extra emphasis, because he couldn’t read this robot voice’s tone at all. 

And then, because he couldn’t quite help himself. 

“When we meet up, you’re gonna remember I’m me, yeah? Things will stay the same between us?”

“Why? Afraid I’ll be disappointed?” Charlie’s reply was teasing, because of course it was. 

“Maybe,” Raleigh demurred, playing it off. Then, he hesitated. For a moment, he debated whether he should say anything at all. Then, he committed. 

“I’ve lost a lot of people that I’m close to lately,” he admitted, slowing to a walk to begin his cool down. “Two of the other Jaegers have been moved elsewhere, people I've known since I graduated, and things are different without them, the base feels emptier, I don't interact with the techs and the new grads as much.”

As explanations went, it was maybe a little rambling, potentially nonsensical, but Raleigh got the feeling Charlie would understand what he meant. He’d made it down to a four miles-per-hour pace before the other man replied. 

“Don’t worry Ray, nothing’s gonna change. I’m too stubborn to let you go.” It was maybe more reassuring than it should have been, but Raleigh was glad for it. “Even if you’re ugly,” Charlie continued, teasing. 

Raleigh couldn’t help it, he snorted. As if he could forget Charls waxing poetic about Ranger R Becket. 

“Ha! No chance of that, chuckles”

“Oho, the ego on you mate. First thing I'll see is the big head”

“Yeah well at least we match, still reckon you’re gonna finish top of your class?”

“You know it, babe, I'm breaking records”

“Yeah, yeah,” Raleigh dismissed, because he actually was breaking records. He doubted there was anything actually record-setting about Charlie’s Academy attendance. The kid might be a bit puffed up, but graduating would knock that out of him soon enough. Besides, Raleigh couldn’t deny that the man always found a way to cheer him up. It was one of many things he appreciated about his friend. 

It was late enough into the night that it was technically morning, and Raleigh should definitely be sleeping. He should be sleeping normally, let alone when he and Yance were on rostered ops—any Kaiju for the next week and a half was theirs. They were even riding solo, because Sierra Butcher was down for repairs. Giving them a chance at finally beating The Phoenix’s record. Fuck all the bullshit that it had come with, it was gonna be epic. 

Anyway—Raleigh hadn’t meant to stay up so late. He’d gotten caught up messaging Charlie, even as Yancy had grumbled and very stubbornly turned off the light. 

i graduate in 2 weeks 

Surrounded by the room’s darkness and his brother’s deep, steady breathing, Raleigh smiled. And that, right there, was why he was still up. Why he felt wired instead of tired, even with the looming threat of the ass-crack of dawn. Sure, he’d probably regret it later in the day, but for now? 

I know, almost a ranger 

Think we’ll drop together?

Gotta be pretty good to get deployed to another region. Maybe we’ll come back you up, he teased, because sure, he and Charlie may be only a handful of weeks away from finally getting to label their relationship, but that didn’t mean the both of them weren’t still shits. Fond shits, but shits all the same. 

Piss off

A long moment, and then. 

Will you come to my graduation? 
And, after I was thinking of going home for a few weeks, taking some time off. Still want to learn to surf, Ray?

Yes, Raleigh thought instantly. Of course. Finally. 

He was already excited, and more than a little touched. This was proof, plain and true—as if Raleigh had needed it—that Charlie viewed him as an actual, proper friend, for all they’d still yet to properly introduce themselves. Someone he wouldn’t give up. That he still wanted to meet him. That he still wanted more, still wanted Raleigh. That they had a chance to try, now. 

And, a little selfishly, Raleigh was glad that he’d been able to put off exchanging names. It’d give him a hell of a kick, to see Charlie’s expression when Raleigh Becket turned up to his graduation ceremony. When he realised he’d asked out his idol. He wondered if Charls would be tongue-tied, to realise that his self-described best mate was also his hero—was also his maybe soon-to-be boyfriend. Probably for a minute or so, but any longer than that and Charlie’d be cussing him out for it. Raleigh couldn’t wait. It wouldn’t make things worth it, not even close, but Raleigh could look for the silver lining. 

Absolutely
I’ve even got leave too, rostered off from next Friday
when and where, charls?

Raleigh grinned, eager. And then, of course, the Kaiju alarm blared to life, illuminating the room from the inside out in glaring red. 

“KAIJU, CODENAME: KNIFEHEAD, CATEGORY THREE”

shit, gtg, alrm, he typed, one handed in his rush to scramble to his feet. Charlie would understand. The details would be waiting for Raleigh on his return. 

Grinning to himself, hyped, Raleigh slapped at the railing beside Yancy’s head. Their fifth solo was practically in the bag. Raleigh would be riding high when he met up with Charls. He wondered if it’d make the other man feel special, to have the solo record holder ignoring everyone flocking to him just to focus on Charlie. 

“Yancy, c’mon wake up,” he smirked, leaning in close to his slowly awakening brother’s face, expression still slack with sleep. Raleigh slapped lightly at his cheeks to hurry him along. “We’re being deployed.”

Yancy groaned and shoved him away.

“Morning,” he grumbled, rolling off the bunk and stumbling a little as he found his feet, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Morning,” Raleigh echoed, rushing to tug on a shirt and moving for his jacket, debriefing Yance as he did. His brother almost always missed the alert—he was woken by the sound, but never early enough to hear the initial brief. “Kaiju’s a Category Three, the biggest yet,” and yeah, taking down that mother was going to be badass. “Codename Knifehead.”

Yancy grunted acknowledgement, still blinking blearily. 

“What time is it?”

“Two,” Raleigh shrugged, not the least bit sympathetic. Sure, if he’d been asleep he’d be even more sour than Yancy, and if the alarm hadn’t gone off he’d be in for a hell of a day running on so little rest—but as it was, Raleigh was on top of the world. 

“AM?” Yancy complained. 

“Yep. C’mon what do you say, another notch on the belt?” 

Yancy huffed, already raising one hand to tap his closed fist against Raleigh’s own. Still, when he turned back, he was grinning. 

“Hey kid,” Yance smirked, a mirror image to Raleigh’s earlier expression. “Don’t get cocky,” he warned—joked—and Raleigh laughed. Yeah, the both of them had the right to be a little cocky, and Yance was just as proud as Raleigh was of their kill count. Raleigh knew, because they shared a brain. 

Within minutes, the two of them were on the move, bomber jackets and flightsuits thrown on over their PPDC-issue pyjamas, step completely in sync as they strode through the halls like they owned them. 

This, Raleigh could do. Despite everything that had changed, this still felt familiar, always would feel familiar. Raleigh was where he was meant to be. 

The techs were already swarming by the time they made it to the locker room, ribbing each other good-naturedly as they gently removed their jackets, setting them on the hangers in their lockers, before carelessly stripped off their slightsuit and pyjamas, pulling on their mesh undersuits before they stepped into the drivesuit room beyond. 

It was, Raleigh had always thought, a little bit like what he imagined the inside of a bee hive to be. Organised chaos. Dozens of people swarming this way and that, all with their own job to do, seamlessly working around each other. 

And Raleigh just had to stand there, in the middle of the room, Yancy by his side. Arms slightly spread, to give the techs room to move. You couldn’t get into the armour by yourself, even if you’d wanted to. Each plate was fastened in place by machine, the drive-techs affixing each piece in place with an impact wrench, the sudden torque vibrating through Raleigh ribs. It was a safety thing, to protect the connection—if you couldn’t get out of the drivesuit, you couldn’t lose your spine. Important, that. 

Really, the only uncomfortable part of the whole process was attaching the spinal link. Clad in the rest of his drivesuit, Raleigh could practically feel the moment it was unveiled. The lid came off the crate, and Raleigh could already feel his spine tingling. Not quite painfully, but far from pleasant. It felt like his skin was rippling, nerves already firing in anticipation. 

Chris picked it up, same as always, and Raleigh kept himself still by force of will alone. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Yancy doing the same as Grant approached with his own spinal link. 

Chris didn’t warn him, because when he did Raleigh couldn’t resist his flinch, which fucked with the connection. So one second he was standing there, teeth gritted against the dread itching its way along his back, and the next it was there, slotting into the gap in his armour, flaring out one vertebrae at a time. 

Fuuuuccckkkk. 

And then it was done. Raleigh shivered, twisting slightly—the first few moments were always uncomfortable—looking to his right to see Yancy already smirking at him, having pre-empted the action. 

Bastard. 

Then, their helmets, and now Raleigh was excited. He could feel it, the adrenaline pulsing inside his skin, could feel the anticipation building in his gut. 

One more drop. One drop and they were legends. Fuck yeah. 

Their Lady must’ve felt their excitement too. She was already humming when they cracked the conn pod, rigs descending as the door opened. Nuclear core being fed—a handful of control rods removed, waking her up. 

Time to get this show on the road. 

Their feet clipped into the waiting connections with a reassuring click, then one final set of bolts, the fasteners for their hands, and it was go time. 

As always, Tendo was there to greet them.

“Good morning, Becket Boys,” he said, voice almost annoyingly chipper. Seriously, who could sound like that at 0200? Not even Raleigh was awake enough for that. Tendo probably hadn’t slept either, though. He’d finally managed to get that woman from munitions out on a date last night. After three months of flirting, Raleigh wouldn’t have been rushing off either. 

As always, Yancy lit up at the sound of Tendo’s voice. It would almost be annoying, if Raleigh didn’t care about his brother as much. If he couldn’t feel how much Yancy adored the other man. Not even drifting—not really—and already pseudo-connected. Nice. This was gonna be a strong one. A good thing too, to finally get that last solo under their belt. 

Raleigh took advantage of Yancy’s momentary distraction to get his response in first, knowing that Tendo would ignore whatever he said in favour of replying to Yancy. 

“Tendo, what’s happening my man?”

“How’d that date with Alison go last night, Mister Choi?” Yancy teased, and Raleigh felt his brother’s compersion like a bull to the chest. Strong enough to take his breath away. 

“Oh she loved me,” Tendo sassed, and Raleigh could just hear his smile. “Her boyfriend not so much.”

“You’re gonna get your ass kicked,” Raleigh snorted. Yancy was too busy grinning. 

And then the moment of levity was over. 

“Marshall Pentecost on deck!” 

Even strapped in, Raleigh could feel himself straightening. Could feel Yancy’s shoulders drifting back. The Marshall wasn't always at Anchorage—how could he be, running the whole PPDC—but he tried to spend some time at each 'Dome on the regular. They were always more professional, when Pentecost was watching.

“Securing conn pod and getting ready to drop,” Tendo warned. Raleigh felt his stomach already rising. It was Yancy that confirmed, all business. 

“Release for drop.” 

And then they were falling. 

Down, down and down. Like a rollercoaster on steroids. Raleigh didn’t whoop, but it was a near thing. He certainly had, in the past. 

He felt it like a physical blow as they hit the rest of the Lady’s body. Felt his body and Yancy’s rocked by the impact. 

Distantly, Raleigh could feel the Lady moving, could feel her being wheeled out into the rain—but he was too busy dissolving to really notice it, too busy being melted down and forged into something new. 

The neutral handshake kicked into gear, and Raleigh was no longer Raleigh. 

They were Raleigh-and-Yancy. They were children with their parents, they were home in Alaska, they were growing up alone, abandoned, they were enlisting, they were at the Academy, they were Raleigh-and-Yancy, in love with Tendo-and-Charlie and breathing with one set of lungs, one heart between them. 

They were one person. One mind. One brain. 

One Jaeger. 

They didn’t have to think, to calibrate their hemispheres. There was no thinking. Not yet. Not until- the Lady Danger lit up beneath them, through them, as them. Until they became their Jaeger. 

Raleigh-and-Yancy blinked. Blinked again. They moved their arms, their giant metal arms. Yes. Calibrated. They simply were.

Now, they could hear again. Good old Marshall, speaking just at the second their senses returned. Had that timed down to an art, he did. 

“Gentlemen, your orders are to hold the Miracle Mile off Anchorage. Copy?”

“Sir,” Raleigh-and-Yancy argued, together, not caring whose mouth formed the words. “There’s still a civilian vessel in the Gulf.” 

“You’re protecting a city of two million people, you will not risk those lives for a boat that holds ten. Am I clear?”

Raleigh-and-Yancy heard the words. Disagreed, but heard. 

“Yes sir,” they said, turning to each other. 

“You know what I’m thinking,” Yancy—Raleigh?—said. 

“I’m in your brain, yeah I know,” Raleigh—Yancy?—replied. 

“Then let’s go fishing,” they said. 

And then they were moving, throwing their bodies into each step, working the Lady’s joints. 

They weren’t going to stay back and guard the coast. There were civilians out there, people they’d chosen to serve. Raleigh-and-Yancy couldn’t leave them to die. Wouldn’t. It was out of the question. 

They made it not a moment too soon.

Knifehead was one ugly son of a bitch. Four clawed legs, a gaping acid-blue maw, and a blade-like skull. It was also bearing down on the Saltchuck. Luckily, the Lady was there. 

They grabbed the ship—easy, as the Lady—got it safely behind them, caught a wisp of thought—hope the captain’s smart enough to book it the other way—and turned to meet Knifehead face on. 

They moved together, throwing their whole human bodies into moving their metal skin, punch and its follow through sending Knifehead reeling. 

And then it was over. Two shots with their plasma launcher and that alien bitch was down for the count. 

“Lady, what the hell is going on?” Pentecost snapped, through the speakers. 

“Job’s done sir!” They said, giddy with their victory. “Lit it up twice, bagged our record kill.”

“You disobeyed a direct order!”

“Respectfully sir,” Yancy’s mouth said. “We intercepted a Kaiju and saved everyone on that boat.”

“Get back to your post, now!” the Marshall ordered. Raleigh-and-Yancy snorted. Oh yeah, they were in deep shit for this one. Hopefully he wouldn’t cancel their leave, Raleigh had plans he had- he was going- yeah yeah, later hotshot- still, they’d won, Pentecost couldn’t be that pissed with them, surely. 

They turned, heading back the way they had come. And then-

“Lady! We’re still getting a signature, that Kaiju is still alive. Grab the ship and get out of there!”

Pentecost’s words registered vaguely. What? How, they’d gotten two direct hits? That was enough, that was always enough.

“Grab the ship, geet out of there now!”

But it was too late. Knifehead erupted from the sea before them, hitting them claws first, jaws gnashing. It was aiming for the conn pod! That slimy shit! 

But they had this, they had- Raleigh-and-Yancy screamed as Knifehead tore through their left arm, costing them the charged plasma launcher. FUCK! That hurt, that hurt bad. They were missing an arm! 

Raleigh felt pain erupt all through his body, the left hemisphere of the Lady bearing the brunt of the strain. Yancy reached out towards him, in their head, trying to help balance the load.

But Knifehead kept coming, faster than they could react. Its claws scraped the conn pod, jaws coming down. 

Raleigh-and-Yancy turned, Yancy pushing himself forward, taking control of the drift. 

“Raleigh listen to me-” Yancy said, Yancy alone, and Raleigh was still reeling, still clutching at his missing arm, and he had no idea what Yancy was going to say. 

Sparks flew. Knifehead breached the conn pod. And Yancy was gone. 

Yancy screamed. And Raleigh echoed him. 

“What are you doing? We’re dead, we died. No, stop, you don’t- we’re dead, you can’t- stop”

somebody hold him down, dammit! He’s thrashing too much for me to get the IV in. His neural load’s off the charts, Ranger’s going to be a vegetable. Not if I can help it. Here, get the needle in. I’ve got him. Hold him steady.

“Let me die. Let me die. Yancy, Yancy! This isn’t- we’re already dead!”

Marshal, what are you doing? This is below your paygrade, sir. he’s one of my Rangers, I’m helping. Is he even still alive? Screaming enough for it. What about the brother? Get a recon team out there, search and rescue, I want everywhere from where they made contact with Knifehead to where the Lady made land searched, get someone mapping the current too, find me Yancy Becket.

“We’re here! Yancy—Yancy, Yancy, Yancy!—we’re right here!”

what’s he screaming about? They were still drifting when the conn pod ruptured, if I had to guess it got Yancy. And Raleigh piloted alone? Long enough to kill it, and make it back to land?  

“I died, can’t you hear me!”

is Yancy still in his head? He thinks so, at least. When pilots die they die, Yancy’s ghost cannot be in Raleigh’s head. his brain just thinks it is. Tell me honestly, is he going to survive? The mental trauma alone- truthfully, I don’t know, sir.

“I’m already dead!”

someone sedate him. Becket won’t get a chance to heal if he doesn’t stop thrashing about. And someone to keep me updated. 

Yancy had been drunk when he’d first kissed Tendo. He was ashamed to admit it, but it was true. They’d been out on the town, Yancy trying to wingman as Tendo struck out. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Yancy had said, derisive and just that bit beyond tipsy. “You’re a catch! If you were hitting on me like that I’d be all over you.” 

Tendo had smirked, then. 

“Oh you would, would you? What would you do if I said your eyes are the bluest thing I’ve ever seen, and your smile makes my stomach sumersault?” 

Yancy had moved closer, misjudging the distance as he went to put his hand on Tendo’s shoulder and ending up leaning in close to him. 

“I’d just have to kiss you, then,” he’d said, and he did—falling, but up, pulled, lifted, his brain oh fuck the pain in his head, Raleigh!—he missed home, missed the open space and the outdoors in a way that the Shatterdome just couldn’t replicate, he missed—pain, pain, pain—Rhiannon sitting on the floor as Raleigh massaged her, Yancy’s hands cold with the clammy press of dye against his skin. Raleigh had loved that moment so much, he’d loved them all, Yancy knew it, he knew it—he was going to die, there was no way out of this, he had to tell Raleigh—

By the time Raleigh woke up, he kind of figured he wasn’t dead. It didn’t help. For all intents and purposes, he was. If only the med techs would see it that way. 

They kept him hydrated, kept pushing nutrients into his IV when he wouldn’t eat, didn't seem to care when he wouldn’t speak. 

Eventually, Raleigh stayed conscious enough to realise three things: Yancy was dead, Raleigh wasn’t, that didn’t appear to be changing any time soon.

With that realisation came the grief, yes, so thick that he was choking on it, so overpowering that he could barely breathe, but also the boredom. Raleigh was alive, conscious, and had nothing to do but sit there. He wouldn’t eat, couldn’t think, wouldn’t talk… he was alive against his will and he was bored.  

It was habit to reach for his phone. 

Raleigh frowned when he realised it wasn’t there. 

When the nurse next came to check on him, Raleigh spoke for the first time since- since- SINCE!

“Is there anything you need, Ranger?” 

“Can I get my phone?” His voice was hoarse from disuse, throat sore from the screaming—he still couldn’t stop screaming, when he remembered.  

It was the first time he’d asked for something. The poor med tech nearly tripped over himself in his hurry to get it. Raleigh didn’t feel sympathetic. He didn’t feel anything. He wondered if Yancy had been the emotional half of the Lady’s brain. Wondered if he’d taken it all with him. If Raleigh would ever feel anything again that wasn’t this gaping hole in his chest. He found he didn’t really care. Couldn’t care. About anything. Not anymore. 

By the time the tech returned with his phone, Raleigh had almost forgotten why he’d wanted it. He looked at it, dispassionate, a stupid slab of glass and circuits. He wondered if their room had already been packed up. If Yancy’s jacket had been recovered from where they’d left it in their lockers in the drivesuit room. Tendo probably had it. Tendo deserved it. They wanted him to have it. 

Raleigh unlocked his phone. Someone had charged it for him. 

There were messages waiting.

10:00 start, SEA Academy Hall. I have a link I can send you to register for a ticket if you need. It’ll be good to meet you mate. And thanks

Ray?

And then, a few days later.

Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you. It’s been a while. I’m worried, Charlie hadn’t said, but Raleigh could see it anyway. 

What’s wrong?

You don’t have to come to my grad if you don’t want to

And then, no messages until a couple days ago—which, shit, Raleigh had been in the hospital when Charlie graduated. Fuck. As if he didn’t feel bad enough. 

I guess you couldn’t make it
It’s okay, my dad was there

Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck. Raleigh cursed, mentally. The Yancy that wasn’t in his head, that couldn’t be in his head, not anymore and never again—laughed. Raleigh felt a scream build in his throat. He bit it down, hard, typing unsteadily with shaking hands.

Charlie. Hey. Really sorry I missed it, Ranger
I was unconscious. I’ve been in medical, only woke up a couple days ago, just got my phone
my brother died

Minutes passed. It was the first time Raleigh had said it in his right mind, first time he’d admitted it. It hurt. He didn’t like it. He wanted it all to go away, wanted Yancy back with a fierceness that felt like his chest was caving in. 

His chest- his- agony, crushing, tearing, they had him, had him had him, he was falling, flying, screaming, tearing tearing, he was yanked from the conn pod, connected—disconnected?—pulled, lifted, up up, he was- dying dying dying. 

Raleigh didn’t snap out of it until his phone buzzed. He looked down. He’d sent another message, without realising it. 

He’s dead. Yancy’s dead

And Charlie had replied. 

shit mate i’m so sorry, that’s horrible. If there’s anything you need i’m here, just let me know Ray okay? Anything
Yancy? You’re Raleigh Becket?
I saw on the news, the PPDC made an announcement for Yancy. He was a good pilot, you were a good team. I’m so sorry Raleigh

Raleigh laughed, the sound hollow and deranged to his own ears. So Charlie’d figured it out, huh—it wasn’t as funny as Raleigh’d imagined. 

And what was this about Yancy being a good pilot, them being a good team, as if that was what mattered? As if Raleigh cared? If they’d been worse of a team then maybe they wouldn't have made it, maybe they wouldn’t have been trusted to solo. If they were worse Rangers, then Yancy would still be alive. 

Distantly, some part of Raleigh that felt like Yancy knew he was being irrational. Charlie was younger even than Raleigh himself, he’d just graduated, he hadn’t even piloted a Jaeger. Raleigh shouldn’t lash out at him, what did a kid know about responding to this sort of loss?

But the larger part, the part of Raleigh that was grieving and alone and broken, didn’t care. He didn’t care. Charlie should know better. Should be better. Being a pilot had gotten Yancy killed. Being a good pilot, a good pair, meant that when Raleigh suggested going out for the boat Yancy had been right there with him, one brain in one giant metal body. It had been as much Yancy’s thought as Raleigh’s. But Raleigh was the one left to blame himself. To blame being a Ranger. 

fuck off. he’s dead, he’s dead and being a good pilot kiled him
I killed him. being a team killed him
hes dead and hes in my head

Charlie’s response was slow in coming, then, and the wait only fuelled Raleigh’s anger. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t, how could this kid take his time when Yancy was dead, didn’t they know Yancy was dead, how could anything be normal? 

Raleigh, it’s not your fault, you don’t have to feel guilty, these things happen. Yancy’s sacrifice saved lives, saving the boat saved seven people, I know you’d both find that worth it. 

Raleigh did scream, then, because it wasn’t worth it for Yancy to be dead alone. For Raleigh to live. They were meant to go out together, Rangers always went out together. It wasn’t fucking worth it!

I can come visit. I can come see you. Do you want that?

Did he? No, Raleigh didn’t want anything—if it wasn’t Yancy, Raleigh didn’t want it. Raleigh wasn’t even meant to be alive. 

Dead, he was dead, why didn’t anyone realise he was dead? 

Don’t bother, I won’t be here long. I’m quitting, Charlie. I’m leaving the PPDC

What? Ray you can’t 
Raleigh. You swore to service, we’re going to be Ranges together, you just need time

Of course, it was all about him wasn't it. All about the PPDC, as if they could ever repay the loyalty Raleigh had given them—could ever be worth his brother’s life. There wasn’t going to be any healing from this, why did no one get that? He’d lost Yancy, he’d lost himself. He’d felt his own soul getting torn out and crushed. It was never coming back. He was never coming back. Why did no one see it?

You know why, kid. Yancy. Only it couldn’t be Yancy, only the ghost of his memories, of him, of Raleigh himself. Because they’d been one person. One Jaeger. And then they’d died. 

Fuck the service. I’m dead charls, I’m not. I’m. Dead. We. I. I’m not we’re dead I can feel it it’s not I’m dead dead dead why does everyone I can’t Yancy we I felt we died he was I was we were dead dead how can dead were fucki dead

He couldn’t say. Couldn’t. Couldn’t. How could. Couldn’t. 

If Yancy’s ghost was in his head—wasn’t, they kept telling him he wasn’t, as if Raleigh couldn’t still feel him as much as he could feel his absence—he’d be doubly tangible in the Shatterdome, in their room, in the halls in, in- would they expect Raleigh to find a copilot? No. He couldn’t. Wouldn’t. And couldn’t. He couldn’t couldn’t couldn’t- he was already dead. He was half a person, less than, he couldn’t pilot like this, he’d kill himself and whatever partner they gave him. Raleigh wouldn’t do it. He had to leave. Had to had to. If he had to breathe then he had to leave. Had had had. He’d had Yancy, he had. And now. Now, now. He was alone. Broken. Torn in half and he didn’t even know if he was the half that had made it. He didn’t think so. If he’d lived how come he remembered dying? Remembered what it felt like? Was still feeling it, still, was still feeling the pain, the way his chest had caved in, the way his screams had turned to gasping had turned to choking, drowning drowning drowning because it hadn’t been a quick death. He hadn’t been dead when he’d hit the water. And Raleigh had felt every second of it. 

Raleigh didn’t realise he was screaming, screaming, screaming until the nurses rushed back in. His throat felt raw, felt scraped open and bloody, like his mind. 

Someone got a needle into his IV, and Raleigh welcomed unconsciousness. 

Charlie had never said that, if Raleigh just waited, just gave himself time to heal, then the kid himself—a newly minted Ranger, now—would more than likely be assigned as his co-pilot, but Raleigh knew he had to be thinking it. He’d wanted to drift with Charls, before, but not like this. 

Never like this. 

Briefly, he thought about it. Wondered whether he could do it. Physically, mentally—could he stick it out, heal and drift with Charlie? Maybe, maybe—and then he remembered feeling Yancy, being torn from the conn pod, feeling Yancy shatter his spine as he hit the water, feeling Yancy drown. Given enough time, he might be able to conquer those memories, maybe, but he’d never get over the fact it had happened. Never be brave enough to risk reliving it, to risk losing his now closest friend the same way. Someone else, maybe, but not Charlie. Not after Yancy. And no one else could have the possibility of motivating him back into the drift. 

No, Raleigh had done his duty, had died doing his duty, and his accursed animate corpse of a body just hadn’t got the memo. He expected it would eventually, would simply give out one day, when his body caught up with his mind, and he was okay with that. The Yancy of his memories frowned disapprovingly, at that, but didn’t disagree. Raleigh didn’t care. He couldn’t feel enough to care. It was a fact. He simply accepted it. Was maybe a little eager for it. 

That was probably what did him in, in the end. A broken Ranger could heal, a suicidal Ranger was a liability. 

Raleigh never did reply. What was there to say? Kid would probably think he went AWOL, when he disappeared, but Raleigh didn’t mind. He’d been planning to. At least this way, one person would think he had the guts to manage it. In reality, he hadn’t even made it down to the next floor before he’d been stopped and hauled into a psych assessment. He’d told the truth, about his plans, and he’d been medically discharged before they let him leave the room. 

It was almost a disappointment—that Raleigh was officially cut off from the PPDC, or that he hadn’t even managed to do it on his own terms, hadn’t been allowed to do it on his own terms, because the Corps had never made a secret out of the fact they owned whatever was left of his soul—but not a surprise, not really. 

His brain was sludge. He didn’t even know if he would have managed making it out of the lobby without help. At least this way, the PPDC had him sign the mother of all NDAs and in return, paid for the rest of his hospital stay, then ferried him wherever he wanted dropping off. Which was where their care ended. 

Raleigh had picked, completely at random. He couldn’t go back home, because home was in Alaska, and Alaska was the post he’d abandoned. How could he live in the shadow of the Shatterdome, in the shadow of Sierra Butcher? He’d never get over the guilt. 

In the end, Rhiannon offered him a place to stay, with her cousin in Canada. Raleigh jumped at it. He’d never had any other family, aside from Yancy, and there was nowhere else for him to go. Rhiannon’s cousin, Shantelle, was a doctor, who worked for the PPDC—who was probably keeping tabs on him for them—but that was okay. It meant she understood. It meant she wouldn’t hassle him, on the days he couldn’t remember how to move his body, or recognise his own name. It gave him a safe place to recover, until he was well enough to figure out what came next. 

Undelivered, March 16 2020: you’re not okay, you need time. Don’t make any crazy decisions. Heal. Process. The PPDC won’t push you into anything too soon, just give it time

Undelivered, March 19 2020: Fuck you Raleigh. Did you delete your account? You really did leave didn’t you. Just like you said. Why was that the promise you kept huh? Never got to be rangers together. Broke your oath ro the human race. Fuck you, I can’t believe I ever looked up to you

Undelivered, April 7 2020: Ray I’m sorry, you were my friend. Are my friend. I really fucking liked you. At least I thought so. Don’t know if I can be with someone like you, if you really just cut and run. No reason to suppose you wouldn’t, after you said it, then dissapeared. Fuck. You were my best friend. 

Undelivered, April 29 2020: I was right there, why wasn’t I enough? Why am I never enough?

Undelivered, July 3 2020: I really hope you’re okay. I miss 

Undelivered, August 18 2020: I think I hate you

Undelivered, October 27 2020: Goodbye Raleigh. Have a nice life