We Feel It All

Charlie Spring never wanted to be considered an expert in the field of J-tech.

Once upon a time, he thought he was going to be a drummer. Not world-famous or at the top of the charts or anything, he has no illusions about his skill as a musician (he's average, at best) but, you know, he thought he'd find a cool band that he fit in with, they'd struggle for a while to find gigs that only his sister and his three best friends would show up to, maybe they'd stay together long enough to put out some albums, maybe they would even be moderately successful. He could've seen that working out for him, maybe, once.

And then a monster, larger than a tank or a tree or a building, tore a rift in the world. It climbed through, laying waste to cities and countryside and people, everything in its path either crushed or broken into pieces or smothered in toxic blue blood, until the world caught up and rallied enough to stop it.

Less than a year later, humanity realized that it wasn't a one-time occurrence. They should've known better, honestly, if you ask Charlie. Who attacks the unknown with a force of one? The Breach had remained open, and they'd studied it, but they were too slow.

A lot of people paid the price.

Everything was terror and mayhem for a while, with no one having any idea when the next monster would emerge, what direction they would pick out of the breach, what city would suffer their wrath next, or why. There seemed to be no reason for it, no logic, and nothing anyone could do to stop it.

And then, finally, humanity responded. Charlie still remembers vividly, watching the broadcasts from Vancouver as the first Jaeger was deployed, and successfully took down the Kaiju, Karloff. He remembers thinking about television he watched as a kid, and thinking how it was nothing like that, how watching a cartoon as a child he didn't wonder how many people were left in the buildings crushed beneath the dueling behemoths, how many homes were just reduced to rubble, how many families torn apart.

But Charlie knew, watching that battle, what he was going to do with the rest of his life.

He would build those machines, he would build them better and faster and stronger, and he would make sure the Kaiju never made it to another city ever again.

Charlie signed up for every physics and engineering class available to him, started studying, and never stopped.

Charlie stares at the notes in front of him, scattered across his messy desk, and groans.

He doesn't realize he's done it out loud until his lab partner comments on it.

"Need a break?"

Charlie's head snaps up, and he can't help the grin that blooms on his face. "Yeah, that sounds good. Just... give me five more minutes."

Ben whines, pouting, and circles around his own desk to take slow, deliberate steps toward Charlie's. "But Charlie, I want to take a break now." He crosses the room to stand next to Charlie and reaches toward his lab coat, tugging on it.

Charlie rolls his eyes. "You always get your way, don't you."

"Yep," Ben says, eyes dropping down to Charlie's mouth before leaning in.

The elevator to the labs opens with a whoosh, and Ben jerks upright and has several feet of space between them before a voice calls from the outer entrance to the lab. "Hey Charlie, you got the new calculations finished yet?"

Charlie sighs, shoving down the disappointment and trying not to pay any attention to the horror on Ben's face, or the way his expression closes off, cold and indifferent. Ben always does this, Charlie knows he's not out to their coworkers, and it's not fair of him to ask him to be, he would never expect that. He knows firsthand how awful that can be, after being outed in school before he was ready, and then again in University while he was working on his thesis, and Ben deserves better then that.

He feels a curl of disgust at his own selfishness, wanting that from someone when he knows what he's asking. It wouldn't be right, and he won't do that to someone. Especially not someone he's supposed to care about.

"Almost, just give me another day to double check them, Mr Henderson," Charlie says, grinning at the face Isaac makes.

"Charlie, I told you,  if you keep calling me by my last name like we barely know each other—"

"I'm working, I'm supposed to be professional!" Charlie says, giggling as he jumps out of range of Isaac's poke toward his side. Isaac grins at him, and then glances over Charlie's desk and grimaces sympathetically.

"Don't envy this project of yours, mate," he says, wrinkling his nose at the pages of complex mathematics. "Give me alien guts to dig through any day."

"Well, that's why you're in xenobiology and not working on engineering new components for giant robot mechs," Charlie says, dropping into his rolling desk chair and scooting to the other side of his desk so he can reach his glasses.

"Facts," Isaac says with a wave before he leaves to return to his own office. He doesn't so much as spare a glance across the room to Ben, who is staring at his chalk board with his hands on his hips, muttering to himself, absorbed in his work.

Charlie shakes his head, berating himself for not having Ben's focus, and goes back to double checking the math on the latest diagnostics for the new Jaeger modifications. If he can make sure the numbers all check out, they might be able to adjust the suspension to be able to handle increased weight while still maintaining the current lift and force output, which would allow them to handle increased ammunition capacity and maybe, if they're lucky, enough to try the new, heavier weapons Tao and Elle have been working on. Or, if not, at least the Jaegers will have increased mobility.

It's important work, and it could mean the difference between saving a city and hundreds of lives before the aliens can reach them where they'll start trampling buildings and property and people, so he goes back to his calculations with renewed energy.

He can rest once humanity is safe for good.

Before Charlie even sets his lunch tray down on the table, Darcy is already wearing the world's largest, most shit-eating grin.

"Guess what they finished building?" The words are tumbling out of her mouth in a rush before Charlie can even get a question out, and he blinks at her, overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught, before he catches on and his expression slowly brightens until it's a match for her own.

"The prototypes are up and running? When do you test them?!"

Darcy squirms in her seat, unable to keep still out of excitement. "We tested them yesterday."

Charlie slams his hands on the table. "What are you waiting for, then? How'd they work?? Were there any glitches? Oh, of course there were glitches, but how bad were they?"

"Whoa whoa, Charlie, slow down," Tara says, dropping into the seat at Darcy's side, one arm curled around her waist. "We only turned them on and tested the firing mechanisms, no real field testing yet and we still can't get them mounted properly, so we've only got preliminary results. But so far—"

"Zero issues! Charlie, they work perfectly!"

Charlie lets out a very high-pitched noise of glee. "You're joking!"

"Not even a little. Charlie, it was perfect. Tara, tell him."

"I would, if you let me get a single word in, you miscreant. Oh wait, there's Nick, he can tell you, he was the one who actually tested the new guns. And make sure you tell Tao and Elle when you see them, obviously they need to know, too, since it's their designs, and all. Hey, Nick!"

Tara waves across the mess at someone behind Charlie, so Charlie turns to find whoever Tara is waving at. It takes him a minute to locate the Ranger, but then he sees a boy nod at Tara and start walking over, and Charlie is sure that, just for a moment, time stands still.

The boy has the warmest, kindest smile Charlie has seen on anyone at the entire base, and Charlie has no idea how he hasn't noticed this person walking through the halls before now, he radiates friendliness and charm and golden retriever energy in a way that seems absolutely impossible to ignore.

"Hey, Tara," he says, circling around the table to drop his tray next to hers, on the side Darcy isn't wrapped around.

"What're you doing in the mess? I thought you had your Drop session now."

"Schedule got changed around again," he says with a shrug. "I don't ask questions, I just do what Singh tells me."

"Well, it worked out, 'cause now you can meet the little genius who's going to be responsible for getting those new toys you tested out today attached to our Jaegers!"

"Wh-what?" Charlie stutters, finally tearing his gaze away from the freckles scattered across the elusive new Ranger's face to stare at Darcy in confusion, and then slowly building mortification.

"No way! You designed those?"

"Uh," Charlie says, the sound mostly lost in his soft inhale of surprise as his brain tries desperately to catch up with the conversation. "Not— the weapons, no, but I'm, uh. Trying to figure out how to modify the Jaegers so they can use them."

"That is so cool, I was told it wasn't possible! Echo is going to be so much better once it has some heavier weaponry at its disposal, but you probably know that already, huh?"

Charlie shrugs, willing his face to stop turning what was undoubtedly the hue of an overly ripe tomato. "I mean, it was Ben who gave me the idea to change around the—"

"No way, he does not get to take credit for this, Elle told me the hours you were putting in at the lab," Tara says, cutting him off. "You're designing the modifications, you're overseeing construction, you get the credit."

Charlie shrugs, his face still burning red, hot as a furnace. "It wasn't a big deal," he mutters with a nervous laugh.

"Anyway, Nick, this little mad scientist is Dr Charlie Spring. Charlie, Nick Nelson, one of the pilots for Runner Echo." Darcy glances between them, grinning, and Charlie has to force himself to make eye contact, give a nod, and then quickly look down at his food before he spontaneously combusts, because Nelson is looking at him very intently, and Charlie doesn't know how to handle that.

"It's really cool to meet you," Nelson says after a moment, leaning forward across the table, and Charlie thinks it sounds like he actually means it. "I'd love to pick your brain, actually, if you've got a minute after lunch. I had some questions about how the new mods are going to work."

"Uh," Charlie says, his brain drawing a complete blank. An attractive Ranger, already paired with a copilot and assigned to a Jaeger, wants to talk to him? When he hasn't been ordered to by the higher-ups? This has to be some sort of trap.

"Oh, you're probably, like, super busy, huh?" Nelson says, running his hand through his hair and glancing down at the table, embarrassed. "Sorry, it's probably a huge hassle for you, I'm sure I can figure it out on my own. I mean, they're not even installed yet."

"No, that's— it's not that." Charlie says, suddenly desperate to reassure him that he's not a burden. "I just have a big project I've got to finish today, but— um, if you want to come by the lab later this week, I can answer your questions, of course. It would be no problem."

"Are you sure?"

Charlie can't help smiling at the hopeful look on the Ranger's face. He really does have one of the kindest smiles Charlie's ever seen, and while he's not totally convinced this isn't some kind of elaborate prank, at the moment he seems sincere. "Yeah, of course. You're keeping us all safe from an alien menace, it's the least I can do, really."

Nelson laughs, and thanks him a few more times before their lunch break ends, and waves enthusiastically to Charlie before he runs off to his afternoon training session.

Charlie sighs to himself, ignores the very pointed glances Darcy keeps sending him, curses his lack of self preservation, lamenting the torturous afternoon of suffering he has to look forward to later in the week. Maybe Tao has a point about him being too accommodating, but then he remembers what his job is, why they're all here, and suddenly it doesn't feel like very much to ask of himself to spend a few minutes answering the questions of a distractingly attractive Ranger if it means humanity is just a little bit safer.

The next night, Charlie is in the lab late finishing up some schematics for the engineers. There's a good chance these new designs will finally be enough to support the heavier weaponry, and they need to run diagnostic tests as soon as possible. He drops off the hard copy he's printed out for Marshal Singh, since she always asks for one in addition to the digital version, and is dragging himself back to his quarters just after 0500 when he runs directly into a very solid but very soft wall in the middle of the hallway where walls are definitely not supposed to be.

His head snaps up out of his daze, but before he can even start apologizing, a familiar face breaks out in a huge grin.

"Hi," Nick Nelson says, saluting him with the coffee he's got in one hand. He hasn't spilled a drop, because he's a solid wall of muscle and barely budged when Charlie bumped into him, and also had the good sense to get a lid for his travel cup. He looks remarkably awake for five o'clock in the morning, and Charlie would probably be experiencing a burning desire to punch the cheerful and fully-awake expression right off his face if he weren't busy trying to cope with being confronted head-on with his bright smile, aimed directly at Charlie with full strength.

"Hhhggnn," Charlie mumbles, and is immediately horrified at himself and feels his face flush crimson, and it only gets worse when Nelson laughs at him.

"Long night? All English-ed out?" He asks, gesturing at what are probably a set of eyebags that could give the Mariana Trench a run for its money. Charlie just nods, giving up on making coherent words come out of his mouth.

"Go get some sleep," Nelson says with a friendly slap on the shoulder that leaves an impression Charlie will undoubtedly be thinking about for weeks.

"Night," Charlie manages to mumble before Nelson is completely out of earshot, and he laughs again.

"Morning, actually, but I'll let it slide this time, on account of your all-nighter!" He calls with a wave as he disappears down one of the many confusing hallways that lead to the Ranger training facilities.

Charlie stands there staring at the empty hallway for a while; he has absolutely no idea how long it is before he shakes himself out of his exhausted stupor and remembers which way he needs to go to find the elevators to take him back to his own quarters.

"Hi," Nelson says with a friendly grin as he passes Charlie in the hallway.

"Hi," Charlie says, and is proud of himself for managing a whole, intelligibly English word this time, even though there isn't enough time for Nelson to say anything else.

It happens again a few days later, as Charlie is rushing to his lab after an angry text from Ben about some of his notes not being where they're supposed to be — he must have moved them while working on the schematics for Singh and forgot to put them back — and he almost misses Nelson's greeting from the elevators as he races past them. He spins around and hurls a greeting back at him just before the elevator doors close, and doesn't miss the way Nelson's face lights up in a huge grin as he almost falls on his face right in the middle of the hallway. This time, he's flying so high with adrenaline and seeing Nelson that he doesn't even have room left to feel embarrassed.

The grin follows him all the way to his lab, and settles in the back of his mind as he finds the notes for Ben, who is irritated and condescending and makes a mean comment about Charlie's lack of organization. Charlie keeps thinking about the bright smile as he tells Ben they're done, and feels much lighter as he leaves the lab and a stunned, speechless Ben behind him.

Tara 2:16 pm
Hey, you haven't been at lunch all week. Everything good?

Charlie 2:18 pm
yeah fine, don't worry! just a lot of deadlines this week 😩

Tara 2:19 pm
Well, nutrition is important! Also Nick keeps asking about you and it's starting to get concerning...

Charlie 2:19 pm
he was???

I mean

right, he probably still has tech q's, i'll try to make it tomorrow. i should be all caught up by then

Tara 2:20 pm
Great, we'll see you then! 😊

"...ring?"

Charlie grumbles, and turns his head away from the voice. Ben can wait, whatever he wants; he's been pulling so many all-nighters lately, it can't possibly be more important than sleep.

"Hey, Dr Spring?"

Charlie's head snaps up abruptly. That voice is definitely not Ben's.

"What are you doing here?" He blurts, and then realizes how rude and confrontational that probably sounded, and leaps off his chair as though it's burned him.

"I mean! I didn't mean— uh, you're in my lab. I wasn't expecting—"

Nicolas Nelson is in Charlie's lab. Why is Nicolas Nelson, Jaeger pilot assigned to Runner Echo, in Charlie Spring's lab?

"Sorry," he says with an embarrassed grin. "Marshal Singh wanted to send you back some notes along with the diagnostic results before you start working on the second draft of your project, and I offered to deliver them for her. I didn't mean to wake you, you must be exhausted."

"I'm fine," Charlie says, and then sways a little where he's standing as the blood rushes to his head, and Nelson's hand snaps out to steady him, and suddenly Charlie is completely, absolutely awake.

"You are definitely not fine, please sit down?" Nelson says it like a question rather than a command, which he could easily give him, Rangers definitely outrank Charlie as a mid-level J-tech lab worker, and Charlie finds it completely endearing that it doesn't even seem to occur to Nelson, that so far he hasn't seemed to care all that much about rank, or much of the military protocol at all, really, which most of the other Rangers treat like gospel. He wonders what that's about, why Nelson seems so... different, from everyone else.

Charlie shakes his head to clear it, and starts to stumble over to the couch on the wall at the edge of the lab. Ajayi had it brought in before he switched departments, and no one had thought to get rid of it, and it was useful when Charlie needed to work in the lab late. Charlie takes a seat, sinking gratefully into the cushions, and tries not to freak out when Nelson perches next to him, although with a respectful space between them, one arm still extended slightly as though he thinks he might need to catch Charlie before he collapses to the floor.

"I'm really alright, I was just working late last night," Charlie says, waving dismissively at Nelson.

"It sounds like you've been doing that a lot," Nelson says, a little hesitant. Charlie shrugs.

"Had lots of deadlines this week, I'll get my routine back to normal soon."

Nelson looks like he wants to respond, but after taking a breath he just closes his mouth and looks down at his lap, and doesn't push the issue.

"You had questions about the new Jaeger mods?" Charlie prompts, changing the topic, and Nelson looks back up at him.

"I can come back later, if you want to sleep—"

"Nah, I'm awake now. You've been patiently waiting all week, and I'm not in the middle of anything at the moment. Ask away," he says, doing his best to give Nelson his full attention.

He searches Charlie's face for a moment, and then finally nods. "Okay, if you're sure. I was wondering if the extra muscle strands needed to accommodate the heavier engines—"

It takes some effort, after a week of working nights to avoid Ben, but Charlie manages to focus enough on Nelson's words (don't look at his mouth stop looking at his mouth Charlie you need to listen to the words he is saying) to understand the question he's trying to ask, and then to explain to him how it works. Going into the technical aspects just result in Nelson staring at him blankly, but after a couple analogies (he finds out Nelson played rugby in school and it's not the worst way to describe how all the pieces of a Jaeger have to work together for it to function), Nelson finally starts looking like he's following.

"So you're saying a stronger drift—"

"Would probably reduce the ripple effect and some of the aftershocks from the connection, yeah," Charlie says, watching Nelson. "And the stronger the connection, the quicker the signal from the two of you can reach the computer and tell it what to do. It's hard to test without using actual pilots which, you know, would be extremely unethical, but all the data seems to indicate that it should be a smooth connection with no side effects, especially with the new alterations. If your handshake isn't clean, that's the only place I see that might introduce the kind of side effects and delays you're describing."

"I see," Nick says, staring thoughtfully at the blackboard Charlie had drawn some crude diagrams on in his attempts to explain.

"From what I've heard, most pilots get better and better scores the longer they pilot together, right? And you only just started training with yours. So I'm sure the two of you just need some practice, and you'll start seeing better results."

"But I've known Imogen since we were kids. We basically know everything about each other, and still we can't get above an eighty percent. We've been trying for weeks," Nick says, running a hand through his hair in agitation.

"Eighty percent is pretty high, though."

"Yeah, for people who are meeting for the first time, maybe," Nick grumbles, and Charlie can't help but find the tiny, irritated frown a little adorable. He immediately feels a wave of horror at finding another person's distress anything other than upsetting, and has to sit there stupidly while the two warring emotions crash into each other, in their own giant-mech-versus-giant-dinosaur-alien battle.

He wonders idly which is the Jaeger and which is the Kaiju before shaking the irrelevant thought loose with a huff. He really is single-minded about his work; maybe Tao has a point, and he needs to get out of the lab a bit more often.

"Sorry, this isn't your problem. I'll—figure something out," Nick says with a wry grin that is a pathetic, dim version of his usual smile, and Charlie has to fight the impulse to reach out and try to offer comfort, because that would be more than a little inappropriate.

"Well, I hope it was helpful to talk about it, at least," he says. "Sometimes it's just a matter of understanding what the problem is."

"Yeah," Nick says, nodding. "Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks, Dr Spring."

"Anytime, Mr Nelson."

"Ugh," Nick says with a grimace. "Please, call me Nick. Everyone else in this place does, even Singh."

Charlie determinedly ignores the delighted flutter in his stomach, because that would be a complete overreaction to the situation and not at all helpful or relevant.

"Well, if I'm going to call you Nick, than you'd better call me Charlie. Otherwise I might go around getting a big head about how important I am, what with you reminding me of my degree all the time," Charlie says, raising his eyebrows expectantly, almost in a challenge.

Nick laughs. "Alright, I guess that's fair," he says. "Charlie it is."

Charlie feels all his insides melt into a puddle, and he regrets everything he has ever said that has lead to this moment. He thinks it might be preferable if he were to dissolve into the aether, right here, and not have to deal with the massive problem he has created for himself.

Maybe if he threw himself really hard into the Breach, he could make it into the dimension on the other side, one he could exist in knowing there was no Nick Nelson to develop a completely inappropriate and entirely unprofessional crush on. A part of him thought homicidal aliens the size of large industrial buildings who could step on him and kill him instnantly would be a preferable alternative.

"Charlie, are you in— oh," a voice says as the sliding doors to the lab woosh open closed behind him.

"Ben," Charlie says, startled. "What are you— oh, is it nine already?"

"Yeah," Ben says, looking intently at Nick. "Wanted to give your notes back before you left for the day. Funny, I didn't know this was a Ranger hangout, now." His tone is friendly, but his gaze is cold.

"Oh, I was just asking some questions, I've been having trouble with my neural handshake. Charlie was trying to explain how it works to me, although I'm still not sure I quite understand all of it."

"You seem to understand it fine," Charlie says, with a small smile, and Nick flushes, embarrassed.

"Right," Ben says, and Charlie notices the edge in his tone, and didn't miss the way his eyes flicked over to Charlie when Nick used his first name.

"Anyway, you're probably both really busy, I'll let you get back to work," Nick says, glancing between the two of them and backing toward the exit. Charlie can't help the irritation that floods through him, at the thought of anyone making Nick feel like he's unwelcome.

"It was no trouble, if you're still having issues let me know and we can think of some other things to try," Charlie says, and Nick turns back to give an acknowledging nod before hurrying through the doors.

"The hell was that about?" Ben says, rounding on Charlie and taking a couple steps toward him as soon as the doors are closed behind Nick.

"It was exactly what he said," Charlie says, trying to put the distance back between them. "He had some Drift questions. I was telling him how it works to see if it helped."

"You're into him," Ben says accusingly, still closing the distance, and Charlie suddenly has the wall at his back, trapped between it and Ben.

"No I'm not," he says, but it's not quite as calm and steely as he meant it to be, and Ben obviously doesn't buy it.

"Don't lie to me," he snaps, and Charlie flinches, glancing desperately at the door, willing it to woosh open, for someone, anyone to walk through it and interrupt this situation before it goes where he thinks it's going.

But they're the only two people who regularly use the lab, and no one is coming to save him.

"What do you care?" Charlie says, quiet and resigned. "It's none of your business."

"The hell it's not!" Ben barks, shoving him into the wall. "He's a Ranger, why are you even talking to him?"

"We're trying to fight an apocalypse, why the hell do you think?" Charlie tries to shove Ben off of him, but Ben has a couple inches on him, and Charlie has no leverage with the wall behind him, and he feels something in his stomach squirm and writhe as he realizes just how bad his situation is, terror beginning to claw its way up his throat.

"I don't want you talking to him," Ben says, and his voice has dropped to a low growl, and it sounds like a threat.

"Ben, I told you I'm done. You don't get to decide who I can talk to," Charlie says, quiet but insistent, desperate to diffuse the tension but refusing to just give in to Ben's demands. It never worked for him before, to nod and do whatever Ben wanted, it only ever hurt him in the end, and he absolutely refuses to go back now that he's finally found the spine to stand up to him, to tell him he's had enough. He won't do it, won't go backwards. He meant it when he told Ben they were finished.

"You can't just decide we're through, that's not fair," Ben says, and leans in, eyes dropping to Charlie's mouth. "I never agreed to that."

"Ben, stop," Charlie says, putting a hand on Ben's chest, desperately trying to keep some space between them.

"I can't," Ben breathes, and presses his mouth to Charlie's.

But the kiss only lasts an instant, because Ben is yanked roughly away from Charlie, stumbling back several steps.

"He told you to stop," Nick says, and the relief Charlie feels is almost enough to knock his legs out from under him.

"Fuck off," Nick says when Ben doesn't move, and Ben takes a hesitant step back before finally turning and stumbling out of the lab without another word.

As soon as the lab doors close, Nick turns his full attention to Charlie. "Are you alright?" He asks, taking a half step forward before stopping himself.

"Did— did you hear all of that?" Charlie asks softly, and fear begins to fight with the relief in his chest.

"Most of it," Nick says, and he doesn't sound disgusted or hesitant, only sad. "I just— something seemed off, and so I sort of hung back outside the door, and then I heard shouting and you sounded upset, so I— I couldn't leave."

"Sorry," Charlie says before Nick can, and Nick frowns at him.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he says, and it doesn't make Charlie want to apologize any less.

"Don't say it," Nick says, holding a finger up in warning, pointing at Charlie, the corner of his mouth inching up into an exasperated grin he can't help.

"I kind of want to say it," Charlie admits, holding in a laugh even though part of him still feels like he wants to cry, but Nick keeps telling him not to, and then actually lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and the comfort and safety wins out over the fear, and Charlie laughs in earnest, a quiet but relieved breath rushing out as Nick guides him away from the lab.

Nick insists on walking him all the way back to his quarters just in case Ben is lurking somewhere, and wonders why Charlie hasn't asked to switch labs or get Ben reassigned, and Charlie tells him that probably would have been a good idea, and that sets Nick off on a tirade about how much of a total dick Ben is and Charlie can't help the brilliant smile that stays with him for the whole walk across the Shatterdome.

As they get to Charlie's door and Nick checks the corridor and waits until Charlie is safely inside before he'll even consider leaving, Charlie realizes that if he wasn't in trouble before, he most definitely is now, and even though he's exhausted it still takes him hours to fall asleep.

Charlie realizes the next morning that he has backed himself into a very unpleasant corner.

He's a fairly smart guy, he thinks, in the end — he got good grades, he can problem solve reasonably well, and has a tendency to come up with creative solutions to problems that are both manageable and not difficult to implement, on the whole. But he thinks it's possible he's also a massive idiot, because he has a fancy lab with state-of-the-art equipment and important research to do that requires a great deal of said equipment and which a whole world of people might be depending on for their survival, but he absolutely cannot go back to his well-equipped, convenient, surprisingly comfortable laboratory.

Because Ben is working in the lab, and he's started showing up at unpredictable hours, and even if Charlie wasn't worried about being alone in the lab with him, Ben's presence has become profoundly irritating. Every time Charlie tries to do work there he can't get anything done because he's constantly thinking about whether Ben is going to show up and start lobbing nasty comments at him or come over to poke around his research and mess with his organization system or, you know, try to assault him again.

So Charlie avoids his lab, and his work slowly begins to decline because of it. No one has said anything to him yet, but Charlie knows it's only a matter of time.

Nick passes him in the hall a week after the unfortunate incident in the lab, and when he asks whether Charlie's relocated to a different workplace yet Charlie can't find it in himself to lie to Nick's face, so he tells him the truth, and Nick almost marches directly over to the lab until Charlie begs him not to. Nick also offers to go to Farouk, their head of research, or even Marshal Singh, and Charlie has to beg him not to do that either, and promises that he'll figure it out, and Nick is a wonderful, kind person so of course Nick nods and agrees to let Charlie handle it on his own, like a professional and an adult should be able to.

Charlie also asks Nick not to mention it to anyone, because he doesn't want to cause trouble, and Nick gives him a pained look but he agrees to that, too. Charlie isn't sure what he did to deserve Nicolas Nelson as a friend, but he's profoundly glad to have him.

Nick finds Charlie sitting on the step outside his quarters a few days later, head resting in one hand as he leans against the doorframe, eyes closed and snoring softly. Nick has the overwhelming urge to hug him, but hesitates, and before he can decide what to do Charlie's head slips off his hand, jerking him awake.

"H-Wha? Where...?" Charlie looks around like he doesn't have any idea what a door is supposed to look like or what a Shatterdome is, and Nick drops down next to him.

"Catching up on some sleep there, doctor?" Nick says, nudging him in the side playfully, and Charlie swats at him, grinning, still half-asleep.

"Mmn— had a question, was gonna go look for you, just sat down for a sec. Sorry, didn't mean to fall asleep on your doorstep."

Charlie's head drops onto Nick's shoulder before he can tell him off for using the S-word again, and Nick's chest clenches painfully for a moment as he stares wonderingly down at Charlie's unruly curls, and wonders if they're as soft as they look.

"Y-yeah?" He manages through the tightness in his throat.

"Mm," Charlie hums, and doesn't say anything else, and Nick wants to ask him what the question was but he also kind of doesn't want to move, ever; He thinks a Kaiju could probably attack right now and he would stay right here and never budge a single inch.

"Oh shit," Charlie mumbles, and snaps upright, rubbing at his eyes. "Sorry, I must be more tired than I thought."

"Don't worry about it," Nick says, trying to ignore the crushing disappointment at not having Charlie's head resting comfortably on his shoulder and marveling that his voice sounds almost normal. "You said you had a question?"

"Oh!" Charlie, finally waking up properly, launches into a theory about Nick's neural handshake woes, and his excitement is contagious and soon they're both eagerly discussing a method to try next time Nick goes for a Drop with Imogen, and Nick suspects it might make a noticeable difference in their Drift compatibility score, maybe even enough to get them qualified for real combat.

Nick wonders at how smart Charlie is, and how lucky he is that Charlie was stationed here, at the same Shatterdome as him; he can't help but feel incredibly fortunate that they had a chance to meet.

"You should swing by tomorrow, after our Drop, and I can fill you in on whether it works or not. You can use one of the waiting rooms to get some work done, or maybe take a nap, while you're waiting, if you still can't use your lab. It's always empty around then."

"Oh. Yeah, okay, that might work. Thanks," Charlie says, looking down at his hands, and Nick gets distracted by the way he's twisting his sleeve between his fingers—a nervous habit—and the soft affection he feels that nearly overwhelms him just about every time Charlie Spring is within eyesight, and sometimes also when he's not.

"Go get some rest," Nick says, as Charlie starts to slow down again, his brief burst of energy already running out and leaving exhaustion in its wake. "Want me to walk you back to your room, just in case? Ben hasn't shown up there at all, has he?"

"No, I don't think he's that big of a creep. I'll be alright, you don't need to worry about me," Charlie insists, getting to his feet and shuffling toward the elevator that will take him to the level with the scientists' quarters, still twisting the hem of his sleeve between his fingers.

"You sure?" Nick asks, and Charlie opens his mouth to reply, but then hesitates, and Nick shakes his head as he gets to his feet.

"Too late, I'm coming anyway. I need to grab some food before I crash anyhow, so I'll swing by the mess on my way back."

Charlie wrinkles his nose at him. "The mess isn't even on the way."

Nick shrugs. "It's not like it's far," he says, and then grins. "Besides, I want to go with you. I have to see how much of a disaster your room is!"

Charlie flushes scarlet and denies the accusation, pointing out that his lab is perfectly organized, thank you very much, how dare he insinuate otherwise, and Nick teases him about what a load of crap that is, reminding him of just how much clutter is packed into his disaster of a lab, and no claims of "organized chaos" are enough to explain the sheer volume of detritus that cover every surface. They both end up  laughing all the way to Charlie's room, which Charlie definitely does not let Nick inside to see for fear of the commentary and judgment that he's not sure he would ever live down.

The following afternoon, Charlie is in one of the waiting rooms outside the training facilities, waiting for Nick to finish his session with Imogen. He's surrounded by a pile of books and papers scattered across multiple tables and chairs, every single one necessary to his research and actively in use—at least, that's what he insists to the imaginary Nick in his head.

Charlie doesn't move when Nick opens the door, and continues not to acknowledge his presence as Nick crosses the room toward him.

"Hey Charlie," Nick says, dropping down into the seat across from him, the only chair without a stack of papers or books or sticky notes all over it.

"Hey Nick," Charlie responds, without looking up from his notes.

"You like science," Nick says, and that finally gets Charlie to look up, a bemused half-smile twisting the corner of his mouth up.

"I do," he says slowly, cautious, with a raised eyebrow. "I've only made a career out of studying it. What are you up to?"

"I want to do some science. Will you help me?" Nick stares at him expectantly, and Charlie knows there's no way he can ever say no to that face, he's simply not strong enough.

"What kind of science?" He hedges, hesitant to agree to something when he knows absolutely none of the parameters, even though he knows he's going to end up agreeing to anything Nick asks him.

Nick grins, triumph clear in his expression. "Not telling, it'd ruin the experiment. Come on!" He grabs Charlie's hand and drags him to his feet, tugging him back towards the room he'd just left a few minutes ago.

"Wait," Charlie says, realizing they're headed for the Jaeger pilot training facilities. "Am I even allowed to be in here?"

"Of course, you're with me," Nick says, unconcerned. "Come on, I just want to try something. I've been wondering about it for a while, and I'm not going to give up until I know for sure, so you might as well just stop trying to resist me," he says, throwing another bright smile back at Charlie, almost as though he knows just how incapable Charlie is at denying him.

"Cheater," Charlie mutters, and Nick's smile only gets bigger as he tugs Charlie all the way to the sparring ring.

"Grab a staff," Nick says, gesturing to the rack of wooden sticks along one of the walls.

"What?" Charlie says, grinding to a halt on the mat in the middle of the room. "You have to be joking."

"Not even a little bit," Nick says, still grinning at him. "Come on, it's super easy, I'll show you. Just humor me."

"I have absolutely no idea how to use these," Charlie mutters, even as he inches slowly toward them, as though he thinks one might spontaneously leap off the wall and whack him of its own accord. Nick laughs, not in a mean or judgmental way, but like he's enjoying Charlie's antics.

"It's a wooden stick, Charlie, it's not like it's complicated. Just— trust me. It's not about skill at all."

Charlie whips around to face him, stick clenched tightly to his chest, and suddenly looks horrified. "You think— you think we're—?"

Nick shrugs. "One way to find out," he says, spinning his staff in a circle before pointing one end at Charlie. "Come on, let's spar!"

Charlie swallows, and walks slowly out onto the mat, stopping a few feet from Nick, just out of poking range. He looks from his staff to Nick's, and then to Nick's face, which is smiling at him patiently as he waits for Charlie to shift into a ready position.

"Are— are you sure about this? Aren't I way too, y'know, small and weak? I don't think—"

"Charlie," Nick says, lowering his stick and stepping right into Charlie's personal space, dropping a hand on his shoulder. "It's some sparring. I'm not going to hurt you, and I'm not going to let you hurt yourself. It isn't even about strength or winning, at all. It's— it's almost like a dance, really. It's about rhythm. You said you used to be a drummer, right?"

Charlie blinks, a little blown away that Nick remembers an offhand comment he'd made about playing an instrument over a week ago. "Uh, yeah," he says, looking down and realizing that he's about eye level with Nick's collar bone, and all Nick's wearing are a pair of loose sweatpants and a very tight tank top, and Nick has some serious muscles from years of Ranger training.

It wasn't like he hadn't noticed before, it was hard not to, with Nick, but being this up close to him really makes it very, very obvious, and Charlie can't help but think about his tiny little stick arms, and gangly limbs, and how he spent most of his time in a lab, under fluorescent lights, reading and doing math. Like a nerd.

"It's like music," Nick says, interrupting his spiraling thoughts. "We're just looking for a rhythm, so try to listen and feel it, no need to think too hard or know what you're doing, even. Alright?"

Charlie swallows, glances back up at Nick's face, which is just as encouraging as always, his smile bright and certain. "So you do think I'm small and weak," he says accusingly, and Nick's expression falls, his eyes huge as he realizes what he's implied.

"What? No, that's not what I— no, of course not," Nick stammers, frantic, and Charlie laughs, poking him with his stick, and Nick lets out a relieved chuckle, swatting the stick away.

"Come on, stop trying to delay the inevitable," Nick says, grinning at him again, and Charlie sighs.

It will probably be a disaster, but Nick looks like he's not going to let this go until Charlie tries it, so he decides there's no point in trying to dissuade him anymore.

"Okay. Like a dance?"

"Yep," Nick says, and lunges at him. Charlie yelps as the stick smacks him in the shoulder.

"You jerk," Charlie says, rubbing at his arm, even though Nick hadn't put any force behind it so it hadn't hurt at all.

"Haha, you've gotta watch me, like the conductor. You ready this time, or you gonna keep letting me push you around?" Nick circles him, weight on the balls of his feet, bobbing side to side like a fighter.

Charlie scowls, bringing his stick up. "You're such a pain," he says, and smacks the stick into the side of Nick's leg before he can lunge at him again.

"Oi!" Nick whirls around to smack Charlie on his other arm, but Charlie is ready for it this time, and gets his stick up in time to block him.

"There you go, now you're getting it!" Nick grins, and takes a step back, and Charlie follows him, stepping in without thinking about it.

They smack each other a couple more times, back and forth, laughing, the sticks clacking loudly between them as they block each other. At first Charlie feels overwhelmed, barely able to pay attention to the stick in his hands and Nick and where his own feet are and the space around him all at the same time, but slowly Charlie starts to get used to the wooden staff, begins to think of it less like a weapon and more like an extension of his arm, starts to map the way Nick moves, can almost see Nick making choices and predict where he's likely to strike, or when he's about to step back and regain his footing. Charlie catches an opening when Nick hesitates and darts in to shove Nick with a hand on his shoulder, lightning-quick, almost knocking him off balance. "Hey, that's cheating!" Nick says, laughing, and tries to circle around behind Charlie, but Charlie skips out of the way and then brings his stick around to push Nick, intending to use his own momentum to send him stumbling forward.

But Nick is quick, his reflexes sharp after years of practice, and he spins instead, catching Charlie's stick in his other hand, and Charlie reacts by dropping the stick and grabbing Nick's, which Nick releases so they've traded, just in time to block Nick before he can whack Charlie in the head with his own stick.

Nick doesn't stop, stepping in and whirling the stick around for a follow-up with the other end, but Charlie blocks that, too. He blocks a couple more quick strikes from Nick before skipping back, luring Nick forward, waiting for Nick to extend too far and lose his balance.

Nick takes the bait, stepping in, but he's ready for Charlie when he reaches out to pull Nick forward, and instead of Charlie throwing Nick off-balance, Nick rushes in, going too easily, and Charlie stumbles, but Nick snaps out a hand to steady him before he can lose his footing and fall, tugging him in close and wrapping an arm around his waist.

They're both panting slightly from the exertion, and Charlie realizes they've been sparring for a while at this point and he barely even noticed the time pass, and Nick's expression is elated.

"I knew it!" he says, and his arm is still around Charlie, so it's easy for him to let his stick clatter to the ground, bring his other arm around Charlie, and lift him into the air, spinning him around, his laugh both delighted and contagious.

"Charlie, we are definitely Drift compatible! You felt that, right? The way it just flowed, effortlessly? We have to try a handshake in the simulator, I bet we'd score even higher than Tara and Darcy!"

Charlie, brain still catching up with what is happening, stares wide-eyed at Nick as he spins him around a couple more times before dropping him back to the floor. "You'll try it with me, right? I promise you don't have to commit to anything, I know it's a lot, you don't have to make any decisions right now. But I need to see what our numbers are, because I think they're going to be record-breaking."

"I," Charlie says, and stops there, because he has absolutely no idea what to say. "Um," he adds, and he still doesn't have any words, but Nick just looks so happy, and Charlie realizes he doesn't want Nick to stop looking at him like that, so he takes a breath, and then nods. "Okay... I'll try it," he says quietly, and Nick whoops, throwing a triumphant fist into the air.

"Yes! Oh, I can't wait to beat Tara's record, she's gonna be so annoyed," he says, laughing happily, and Charlie tries very, very hard not to think about how he's just agreed to let Nick into his head.

I'm going to die, Charlie thinks, and allows Nick to tug him out of the training room towards the showers so they can get cleaned up and head to the mess for lunch, because Nick says he's hungry, smiling happily, and he doesn't stop the whole way through his meal.

Charlie has a few days to emotionally prepare himself, because the Shatterdome is a busy place and that's the soonest the simulator is available for them to use for a test.

Marshal Singh had agreed, but not before pulling Charlie aside and talking to him, making sure neither Nick nor any of the other pilots had forced Charlie into agreeing to something he wasn't willing to do. Charlie knew this was his one chance to back out, that Marshal Singh was giving him that opportunity, and if he was honest with himself, part of him was tempted to take it.

He didn't want to pilot a giant metal robot out onto a battlefield. He was no good at fighting, had never been, and was pretty sure he'd make a terrible pilot.

But he'd had to watch Tara and Darcy deploy for combat, just six months ago when they'd still been stationed in Australia, Charlie watching on the news as people he loved fought for their lives on the other side of the globe while he was stuck in a lab in the UK, and in that moment he'd wished desperately that there was something he could do beyond staying here, thinking of ways to make the Jaegers function better. And now he actually had that chance.

If he could help Nick protect people better, didn't he owe it to humanity — and to Nick, and Tara and Darcy, and maybe himself — to give it a shot? To help Nick be the best possible pilot he could be? What if he could prevent more deaths this way? Maybe one, maybe hundreds? Thousands? Elle and Tao and Isaac were all better at the science than him, would probably manage fine without him there.

Charlie knew, deep in his bones, that there was only one choice for him. He had to find out.

"I'm sure," he told Marshal Singh, looking directly into her eyes. He was terrified, but he was also determined, and he wasn't about to back down out of fear.

Singh looked at him a couple seconds longer, and then nodded, and scheduled their Drop.

Charlie thought he was going to be sick, and it was a feeling he suspected he might have to start getting used to, if Nick was right about their compatibility.

Because Charlie had felt it too, during their sparring match, and knew there was a very good chance that he was.

The morning of the Drop, Charlie is having second thoughts.

He's having them loudly, with a great deal of drama, in Tao and Elle's lab, curled up miserably under a table.

"Tao, I can't," Charlie whines, his hands clutched tightly in his hair. "Nick will never speak to me again."

"Great, then you can go back to doing what you're good at and stop being stupid and risking your life for no reason," Tao says, a hard edge to his voice as he makes some notes on his laptop. "Nelson already has a co-pilot, he should be Drifting with her."

"Tao," Elle chides, crawling under the table with Charlie. "I think you might be overthinking this a bit, Charlie," she says gently, laying a hand reassuringly on his knee. "Nick's your friend, and he cares about you."

"What if he only thinks he does? What if he's totally grossed out when he realizes I have messy, gay feelings for him? What if he realizes he hates me?"

Elle frowns. "If Nick hates you for having feelings, then he was never worth your time to begin with," she says, with force, in a way that Charlie doesn't hear from Elle very often. "Besides, I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen. Nick doesn't seem like the type of person to do that."

Charlie groans, curling further into himself. "He's going to be freaked out."

"Or maybe he won't," Elle says, wrapping an arm around him. "Or even if he is, for a minute, maybe he'll realize he's actually fine with it."

"This sucks," Charlie says quietly, leaning into her.

"Yeah," she agrees, because there's really nothing to say to that. "At least you'll know, and you won't have to worry about it anymore," she offers, rubbing his back. "You can just get it all out in the open, right at the start."

"Uuuuugh," Charlie groans, "I hate that plan, that's a terrible way to do things," and Elle can't help laughing at him, and that starts Charlie laughing, until all three of them are cackling, slightly hysterically, under the table in their lab.

Isaac finds them like that, all piled on the floor, twenty minutes later when he wanders in to show off some Kaiju parts to Elle while Tao backs away in disgust, at which point Charlie hugs them both and leaves the safety of their lab, because he can't hide in there forever. He decides to go bother Tori until their scheduled time instead, since she hasn't started her shift in LOCCENT yet, and she's better at cutting right through his anxieties than anyone else he knows. She can also walk him through what he's in for during the test, too, since she oversees them all the time.

After that, he has a very honest, direct, and unavoidable confession to get on with, and a new, tenuous friendship to irrevocably change when his thoughts gets linked directly to another person's using technology he doesn't fully understand yet.

Holding the helmet hooked up to the Drop simulator pod in his hands, Charlie realizes he has made a huge mistake. He's an idiot, he was always an idiot, and he's about to ruin everything, and they probably aren't even Drift compatible, he's just been wasting everyone's time and resources and he should be in his lab, Ben be damned.

He can't do it.

"You've got this," Nick says, a comforting hand on Charlie's shoulder, in contrast to Charlie's inner monologue. "It's still just an experiment to see how compatible we are. I'm not asking you to do anything besides a test in the simulator, it doesn't have to mean anything at all if you don't want it to."

Charlie's hands shake as he drops the helmet onto his head without saying anything. It doesn't matter, because in a few minutes, Nick is going to be in his head, anyway.

Charlie's stomach churns, nausea rising, and he takes a deep breath to try and suppress it. Then he takes another, and focuses on the comforting weight of Nick's hand, which is still resting firmly on his shoulder, and looks over at Nick through the visor of his helmet. It's already smudged, but he can see Nick's worried, intent expression clearly.

Nick needs to know. He needs to know. He knows he will go the rest of his life regretting this moment if he doesn't see it through.

Charlie swallows his fear and his reluctance, focuses on Nick, and nods once, firm.

"Okay, let's do this," Nick says with a grin, and lifts his own helmet onto his head. "You're going to get a bunch of memories dumped into your brain all at once. Some will be familiar, and some won't, because they'll be mine. Try to let them play out without following them, right? Just let them go through you. Focus on your surroundings, or on me. I'll keep us grounded."

"Okay," Charlie says, his voice shaky. He'd been in plenty of courses that covered Drifting and how it worked, and everyone in any of the science departments at the Shatterdome has done a solo sim even if they weren't in the Ranger program, just to experience what the tech felt like, to better understand it. But Charlie hasn't Drifted with another person in a long time, and never in a real simulator, not since he started the J-tech track. He's mostly only heard about what it's like from class and a bit from Tara and Darcy, but whenever they explained it they tended to trail off and just look at each other, as though they were communicating without words somehow, so Charlie really doesn't know what to expect.

"Does it hurt?" He asks, realizing he has no idea.

"No, not at all, not unless you're connected to someone who's really a bad fit, I think," Nick says, frowning. "I'm not totally sure, honestly, I've only ever Drifted with Imogen, and we scored well enough to be assigned to a Jaeger."

Charlie swallows, wishing he could wipe away the cold sweat that was breaking out over his forehead.

Nick reaches out again, grabbing his hand and squeezing it, almost like he can tell exactly what Charlie needs.

"We'll be fine, I promise. Whatever happens, compatible or not, we're friends, and I'm going to make sure nothing bad happens, alright? If it hurts at all, if it's uncomfortable in any way, we can stop. Okay?"

Charlie swallows, knowing that's not really what he's worried about, and looks at Nick. Nick, who is his friend and genuinely cares about him, and is trying to make him feel safe.

"I know," Charlie says, and realizes he means it, that he trusts Nick.

"Alright, you two ready?" A voice says over the comm in Charlie's helmet, slightly distorted by static, and he jumps a little. He'd totally forgotten anyone else was here.

"Ready, Tori," Nick says, giving Charlie's hand one last squeeze before letting go.

"Ready," Charlie agrees, instilling his voice with as much confidence as he can manage. He definitely doesn't sound as relaxed as Nick, but he also doesn't sound like a terrified child anymore, and he's going to have to be satisfied with that.

"Alright, the Pod is online and all systems are functional. Vitals look good. Initiating neural handshake now."

Charlie feels a weird, tingly sensation as the lights in his helmet blink on, and he hears a voice, as though through water, echoey and distant and not his. Let's do this.

You asked for it, he thinks, and he hears a wavy, distorted laugh, and it's Nick's. Nick is in his head, thinking at him, and he's thinking back. Charlie opens his mouth and closes it again, just to check, make sure he hadn't actually used it to say anything aloud, but he hadn't.

Yeah, it's a bit weird. Definitely takes some getting used to, Nick thinks at him, and Charlie tries very hard not to panic. How can he make it stop?

You can't, really, but it's fine. We have a rule; no judgements for thoughts during a Drift. I won't hold you to anything I see here, alright? Charlie isn't sure Nick could say anything that would actually comfort him right now, but he appreciates the effort. Sometimes you can't control what your brain does. It's what you decide to act on outside the Drift that matters, and we all know that.

We, meaning all Jaeger pilots? Charlie can't help thinking.

Yep, welcome to the club, Nick says—thinks—back at him, and Charlie's stomach drops. Immediately Charlie feels a horrible sense of guilt flood through him.

Hey, whoa, sorry. That was supposed to make you feel included, not pressured, Nick says, and Charlie realizes that guilt was coming from Nick. He felt Nick's feelings, and they were loud and everywhere and nearly indistinguishable from his own.

Sorry, I'm messing this all up. Take a deep breath, with me, okay? Count with me, Nick says through the Drift, and Charlie tries to focus on the numbers, throws in some calculations when the numbers aren't quite enough, and tries to keep his attention on the sensation of air filling his lungs, the way he'd learned in therapy. He could feel them expanding with air, and then the calm relaxation that settles in as the air rushes out, just for a moment, as his lungs deflate on an exhale.

Are you really calculating how much air it takes to fill a set of lungs? Nick says, amusement curled around the words in Charlie's head, laced through with warm affection.

No, Charlie thinks, sounding sulky even in his head, but he also thinks Yes, because he definitely was and Nick can see it all and there's no point pretending otherwise, and Charlie clings to the warmth and adoration in Nick's responding chuckle. Mental chuckle, in his head, not out loud. Charlie thinks. How is he supposed to tell the difference?

You think a lot, Charlie hears from Nick, along with the sense that Nick hadn't meant to think it at him, so some regret, but also more affection, because Nick didn't mean it in a bad way, and Charlie can feel it. Because Nick is in his head, and he's in Nick's.

"Okay, boys, the connection looks stable," Marshal's voice crackles over the comms, and Charlie is startled again, and then wonders how long they've been standing here, and if the Marshal can hear anything, and if that was just establishing a connection, what's coming next?

Calm down, it's just me, Nick thinks—says—and Charlie tries not to freak out, because he can't control what Nick hears and doesn't, at all, and it's weird.

Yeah, I know it's a lot. Try to focus on physical stuff, and my voice, and remember, you're going to get flooded with a whole bunch of memories all at once, but they'll settle and sort of start to fade if you let them. The words are accompanied by some flavors — a minty sort of coolness, and also bursts of something bitter, and Charlie notices them, filing the information away to ask about later. The trouble is if you cling to them and try to chase them, right? That's why we call it chasing the R.A.B.I.T. Just let them hop around in your brain for a minute and they'll move on.

Charlie is still freaked out, but he also feels a sense of calm settle around him, smooth and cool and heavy. It doesn't feel like anything he's felt before, and it's a bit dissonant against his nerves, but it also feels wonderful.

Is that you? Charlie asks, and knows he doesn't need to specify.

Oh. I guess, yeah, Nick responds, with a little burst of something lemony and bright, like a blooming flower, or maybe a small firework.

"Neural interface engaged. Drift initiated," says a computerized voice in Charlie's ear, and he's suddenly hit with a wave of images, everything tinted blue and flickering rapidly between scenes, a wave of various emotions warring with each other as they flick across Charlie's consciousness in quick succession.

Graduation, the diploma heavy in his hands, fatigue mixed with elation mixed with uncertainty, school is done, he wonders where he'll be stationed — tangy blood, like iron, he can taste it in his mouth, the jerk hit him hard enough to cut his cheek, weren't they supposed to be sparring? Irritation, hot and scratchy, leaks through his fragile calm, and he grabs the stick from the ground and thinks, we'll see how you like it — Ben's hand on his jaw, grabbing his shirt, tugging him close, his heart racing — hot anger again, then churning sinking guilt coiled around it, twisted together like the world's most revolting lolipop, bitterness and violence where sugar should be — running across a playground, bright laughter echoing all around, from him, from the other kids, a sunny afternoon that goes dark suddenly as a siren blares, harsh and cacophonous, and something moves in the distance as a horrible alien roar cuts through the blare of the siren, right to your bones —

Charlie, a voice says, and it's familiar and warm like sunshine and soft like his favorite jumper and Charlie sees freckles and a huge, radiant smile, and then the visor of his helmet, and numbers, his vitals, glowing on the edges of the display, feels the rubbery hardsuit against his skin, pinching a little in the toes and around his wrists because it doesn't quite fit.

"Good, looks like you're stabilizing. Keep talking, focus on the Drift, listen for the silence," Tori says over the comms, and Charlie tries to focus on her voice, on the suit, and not on the hazy blue images and emotions and sounds whirling around the edge of his awareness, too fast to really focus on.

But there's quiet, too, and then in the quiet he can sense Nick.

Nicely done, Nick says, and Charlie feels a rush of heat, warm and yellow and strong. You handled that really well, it's easy to get lost in your first sim Drop.

Charlie thinks of another time in the simulation, when he was connected to someone else, wavy hair and huge, blue eyes with thick, dark lashes. He feels like he knows her, has known her since childhood, except that he's pretty sure he hasn't ever spoken to her before.

Oh, that's Imogen. I'm sure you'll meet her at some point. Although you kind of have now, I guess? Sorry, I know it's strange.

Charlie gets a burst of nerves, but they subside quickly, like a small wave, in and out again, and then it's calm and quiet once more. Brief, and easy, and as unavoidable as the tide.

Odd, Charlie thinks, and feels Nick's laughter through the Drift. They're Drifting, and it's not like it was at the beginning, snippets of words and a flicker of an image here or there, it's a constant wave of information from another brain, another set of senses, and sometimes they mix with his. He's two people and one at the same time, has two sets of hands even though only one is his, but the other is his too, actually. Where does Charlie end, then? Is he one person, or two?

Hold it. You can analyze afterwards, you big science nerd, Nick says, and Charlie hears that Nick knows he will, and isn't bothered, doesn't even think it's weird, Charlie is just confronted with the knowledge that right now the science and philosophy is distracting and they need to stay focused.

The Drift is silence.

Except it's loud and full of everything, too, both at the same time. The silence is filled with noise, but it's their noise, so it's Charlie's. CharlieandNick's.

"Damn," Charlie hears over the comms, and then a surge of triumph from Nick, like a champagne bottle popping open and the carbonation tingling against his tongue, his skin, in his chest, hot and making him a little dizzy.

"Alright, I think we've got enough, you can start shutdown procedures," Marhal Singh's voice says, somewhere underneath the connection, and then the sensations start to dull as Tori's voice guides them through the process. The images get bluer and more hazy, as if Charlie's seeing them through a thick fogged window, and then the silence shifts from in his head to being outside it as well.

"Okay, you're good to disconnect," Tori says, and the computer confirms it with a chime, and Charlie tugs the helmet off his head.

He feels just a little bit colder, until he looks over at Nick, and feels warmth bloom in his chest and spread all the way to his fingers again, similar to how it did in the Drift. He can't help grinning at him, and Nick smiles back, huge and happy.

He's not freaked out, Charlie thinks, and relief hits him like a truck.

"Whoa," Nick says, reaching a hand out to his shoulder. The touch sends sparks through him, and Charlie takes a moment to breathe, and then assess, because he'd felt relieved, sure, but he didn't think he'd actually been about to fall over, or anything. Had he swayed without noticing?

"You good?" Nick asks, and Charlie looks up from his hand to his face, seeing the concern there, and feeling the immediate need to make it go away.

"Yeah, I'm fine. All good," Charlie says, resting his hand on Nick's arm outstretched between them. "Just... processing, I guess," he says, searching Nick's face, looking for any sign of discomfort or regret. But all he sees is relief as Nick's concern melts away, and Nick is just smiling at him.

Charlie feels a little lightheaded, looking at Nick, and feels blood rushing to his cheeks as he stands there, not moving, and his eyes drop down to Nick's mouth before he can stop himself.

"These are very impressive numbers, boys," Marshal Singh says as she exits the control booth and walks over toward them, and Charlie flinches and pulls back enough to break the contact, their hands dropping to their sides. "I'm going to go over them with Spring — Victoria, not you, Charlie — and we'll have a debrief later today. For now, get some food, and get back to your regular duties, alright?"

"Ma'am," Nick says, snapping a salute, and Charlie realizes he's already done the same, in sync with Nick.

"M-ma'am," he stammers, lowering his hand and staring at it, muscle memory he shouldn't have kicking in before he could think about it.

Singh doesn't notice, just dismisses them, and they head to the lockers to take off the sim hardsuits, and then Nick is chattering excitedly at him and Charlie is distracted from his thoughts for a while as he follows Nick without paying any attention to where they're going, eventually looking up and realizing they're in the mess, even though Charlie isn't really hungry.

But he knows that Nick is. Somehow.

"Uh," Charlie says, glancing at the line of scientists and soldiers queued up to get food.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't even ask," Nick says, stepping between Charlie and everyone else in the room, using his body as a barrier, and it makes Charlie feel just a tiny bit calmer. "You don't have to stay, if it's too loud, I know some people need quiet after a Drop. I can meet up with you later?"

Charlie realizes that yes, quiet sounds good. But being away from Nick—

Well, maybe that wouldn't exactly be a bad idea right now. Charlie still feels like he's not quite sure where the line is. What's his, and what is Nick's. It feels... blurry.

"Um, yeah," he says, barely audible. "Yeah, I'm— I'll see you later," and he bolts before Nick can ask any follow-up questions, rushing out of the mess without actually paying any attention to where he's going.

Charlie keeps running, ends up at the indoor track that he's only used a couple times since being stationed here, and keeps running around it in circles until his brain starts working again. It takes a while, and he feels a bit like a hamster in a wheel, but the repetition and physical exertion are both soothing, and some of the energy his body would spend being anxious or thinking are instead forced to make his legs go, pick his feet up, drop them back to the pavement, one step at a time.

Charlie Drifted with Nick. It sounded like it went well. Nick didn't run screaming away from him, or tell him he was gross, and obviously Nick knew about Ben, but he must have felt how Charlie feels the same way around him — except that's not true at all, Charlie feels totally different about Nick, louder and stronger and much, much more obvious, especially to someone who's in his head.

But Nick hadn't said anything. Or... Or thought anything, really. At all. Had he not noticed? There was no way. Right?

After a half hour of running around the track, Charlie drops to the astroturf, soaked and panting, and has come to a decision.

He's made a colossal mistake, and messed up everything.

Charlie knew he had anxiety, even back in uni, and decided not to go into the Ranger program because of it, not to mention his eating disorder. He'd heard stories of people having weird side-effects from the Drift, sensations that weren't theirs, crossover, sharing dreams, that kind of thing. And he'd gone and done it anyway, and what if he'd given a bunch of his weird neuroses to Nick? Nick, who hasn't been to years of therapy to sort them out and figure out how to handle them?

He could obviously still sense things from Nick. He'd been running and had a sudden wave of nerves, and they hadn't been from him. It didn't feel like his, he wasn't nervous. Freaked out and panicking, yes, but this was like — getting-up-in-front-of-an-audience nervous.

And it wasn't Charlie's. Not originally, anyway.

What if Nick started having to deal with anxiety? What if it got worse, the more they Drifted? How could Charlie ask Nick to deal with something like that? He had to put a stop to it.

Just then, his phone buzzed from where it was laying on the grass by his hip.

Tori 10:57 am
You done having a meltdown yet

Charlie 10:57 am
wow, that's not judgemental at all 😒

Tori 10:57 am
Am I wrong though

Charlie 10:58 am
no comment

Tori 10:58 am
As I thought.
Singh will be ready to debrief both of you in an hour. I'll be in out of LOCCENT in five if you want to talk before then

Charlie 10:59 am
Shut up

Tori 11:01 am
See you in ten 😏

With five minutes to spare, Charlie is standing outside the Marshal's office. Talking to Tori helped, had calmed him down; she couldn't tell him anything before the Marhal did about specifics, that was classified, but just talking about his feelings helped him to sort them, to organize them, and they feel a little less oppressive.

It doesn't mean this conversation is going to be any easier.

Charlie knows Nick is around the corner before he sees him, before he even hears the steady tapping of his shoes on the metal floors. He feels him coming, through some lingering remnant of the Drift, and feels the little joyful spark when Nick sees him, followed by the drag of concern as Nick registers Charlie's body language, fidgety and nervous.

Nick walks right up to Charlie's side, resting a hand on his lower back. "Having regrets?" He says, and he tries to play it off like a joke, but it's a terrible one, and Charlie can feel that he knows it and regrets it instantly, and the dread roars inside him, getting louder and darker, snapping its teeth.

"Get in here already," Marshal Singh says, voice clear even through the closed door, and Charlie jumps. Nick pushes it open and they walk in, side by side, still in sync.

"Sit," Singh says, and they do, mirroring each other's posture. It's been a couple hours since they were in the same room, but part of Charlie feels like Nick never left, has been right next to him the whole time.

"I don't think we should Drift anymore," Charlie blurts out, before he can continue to overthink himself into silence. Nick turns to him, startled, but Singh just looks at him intently.

"What? Why?" Nick says, fear and worry and panic rolling off him in waves.

"Explain," Singh says, abrupt, and Nick turns back to face her, still panicking but fighting for control.

"I—I know it, it went well," Charlie says, haltingly, not sure how to say what he needs to say. "And I know you need pilots, ones that can fight together, and m... maybe I could. But." Charlie looks down at his lap, realizes he's twisting the edge of his shirt, stretching it out and ruining it, and can't bring himself to stop.

"We're still—" he gestures to Nick, then back to himself, and when Singh's expression doesn't change, figures Singh must have expected as much. "Just a little. And if—I mean, there was a reason, that I didn't join the Ranger program, and went into J-tech instead. And I think—it's probably not a... A good idea, to Drift with me. With my... um, issues."

Charlie lets out a breath of air, relieved that he managed to get the words out. He was worried he wouldn't be able to, talking to Tori.

Tori was right, he realizes suddenly. I did it, when it mattered.

"I wouldn't wish them on anybody," he says quietly, before realizing he's said it out loud and hadn't meant to. "I mean," he says, looking between them, at Singh's blank, steely gaze, and Nick, who looks kind of like he wants to cry. "I just—it's a lot, and I think it would be easier, safer, to... to find someone else."

"Charlie—"

"Hold on," Singh says, looking at Nick. "Me first."

Nick glances at Singh, then back to Charlie, and slowly sits back in his chair and nods. Charlie can feel his discontent radiating from him, and isn't even sure if it's the connection or just from Nick's expression and body language, because it's very obvious.

"Charlie. No one is going to ask you to get in a Jaeger unless you're absolutely sure that's what you want. That would be a terrible idea, for everyone involved, and would only end up with people getting hurt."

Charlie nods at her, and while part of him feels relieved, part of him also just feels like he's letting everyone down. Like he could be doing more, and is choosing not to, and he hates it.

"Your scores were certainly higher than Nick and Imogen's first Drop, higher even than their most recent. It was around ninety percent."

"Ninety," Nick says on an exhale, eyes wide. Singh nods, and continues, not seeming like she minds the interruption, which surprises Charlie — she'd always intimidated him and had a severe, strict sort of aura, but apparently that wasn't all there was to her.

"That's unheard of for an initial sim Drop, maybe with the exception of the one or two sets of twins we've seen, and I'm sure it would only get higher with practice. But it doesn't matter if you'd rather keep working in Jaeger Tech. The work you do is important, and no less valuable than being a Ranger."

Charlie feels something in his chest loosen, a weight lifted, as he listens to the Marshal. He glances over at Nick, who is trying very hard to keep his expression neutral, and Charlie knows Nick is letting him make the choice for himself, to do what he wants to do, without coercion.

Something solidifies in Charlie in that moment, and while he's pretty sure he knows what it means... he's not quite ready to commit to such a drastic change in his life.

"Can I think about it?" He asks the Marshal, and she smiles at him.

"Of course, Charlie. Think about it, talk it over with whoever you need to, make whatever choice you think is best for you. And try to remember that you're not the only person in this Shatterdome capable of piloting a Jaeger; it's not your responsibility to carry that burden, okay? Everyone here is working together, toward a common goal. We're a team. That remains true regardless of what role you play.

"And Charlie," Singh says, getting to her feet. "I want you to make an appointment with Dr Ajayi to talk about your Drift experience and your concerns about piloting with Nelson before you make any decisions. Alright?"

Charlie isn't sure why, but he agrees, and then Marshal Singh dismisses them and they can finally leave her office.

Marshal Singh seems understanding and supportive, but she's still the most intimidating person Charlie has ever met, and he wants time and space to think.

Nick is silent for several minutes as they walk down the halls, and Charlie is thinking so hard he doesn't even realize until they're standing in front of Charlie's room.

"Oh. Nick," Charlie says, realizing suddenly that he can't actually sense anything apart from what he's pretty sure are his own emotions and senses. "You were going to say something, before, in the Marshal's office." Charlie turns to face him, even more nervous now that he has no idea what Nick is thinking.

Nick looks up at him, then at his door, and shifts his weight from foot to foot a couple times, hesitating.

"Earlier. After the Drop, we walked to the mess. Right?"

Charlie nods, watching Nick's face go through a series of expressions, and for a moment, desperately misses the Drift.

"I—you said you weren't hungry," Nick says slowly, and looks up at Charlie. Charlie feels his stomach bottom out; he really, really isn't sure he's ready to talk about this yet.

"But I was," Nick says, choosing his words carefully. "That was—it was just me. Right? I could kind of tell, that you weren't, but it—it didn't affect me, I was still hungry, and knew I needed food. And then, you left, and I—I've had this, kind of buzzing? In the background, constantly, since the Drop. But it—it's faded now, and even when it was there, it's not like—" He frowns, searching for the words he wants, clearly trying to pick them carefully.

"You said, in Singh's office, you thought it would—affect people, and I get that you're worried about that. And I could sort of hear it, sure, but—I still had my own thoughts, you know? And I could tell the difference, and I didn't do anything differently than I would've if we hadn't Drifted."

Charlie takes a breath, finally realizing what Nick is saying.

"This is about my—my anxiety?" Charlie asks, needing to be sure they were talking about the same thing. "And my, um. My eating disorder."

"I didn't— shit, sorry, we don't have to, you don't owe me anything, not an explanation, or— I just, that's what I thought about, in Singh's office. And I wanted you to know, that it was... different, I think, than it felt, in your memories. Or, not— sorry. I dont know what it was like, for you, really. Experiencing it. I just mean, even though I can feel things, from you, that you went through, it doesn't mean— I'm still me, you know?

"I'm glad, that it can help me understand a little. I feel horrible that I found out that way, maybe against your will? But... I mean, I'll say something, if it does seem to be messing with me. But it might also not. So far, it's just been like— like a vague sort of thought, that I can ignore. We might share stuff, and be connected, but I think we're still two people, even Drifting."

Charlie hums, thoughtful, staring at his door as he files the information away. He thinks about the little emotions, the way he knew who Imogen was, the irritation and nerves that didn't feel like his, and realizes that it was the same for him. He felt them, and at first he was confused because he didn't know why they seemed to conflict with his expectations, before realizing they were emotions, sensations, that weren't actually his, and setting them aside.

It didn't change him, or anything. But it did help him understand.

"You may have a point," Charlie says, and Nick smiles at him. It's a bit smaller and more tired than his usual, but it's still very much Nick.

"See, I know I'm nowhere near as smart as you, but I'm not a complete idiot," he says, shoving Charlie in the shoulder playfully, and then yawning, huge and long.

"You need sleep," Charlie says, before failing to stifle a yawn of his own.

"But my room, it's so far," Nick says, whiney, and Charlie knows he's not asking, that Nick is already turning to leave, but he realizes suddenly that he really, really doesn't want Nick to go just yet.

"I have a couch, if you want it," he says before he can think better of it. "We can watch a movie 'til we pass out."

Nick freezes, his gaze snapping to him, searching, before looking at Charlie's door, and then back at him. "Are you... you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not," Charlie says, and goes into his room, holding the door open for Nick. "You've been in my head, my room is like, several steps before that. You skipped a bit, you cheater," he says, grinning, nudging Nick with his shoulder as he passes by.

"Not my fault!" Nick yelps, tugging Charlie over to the couch with him. "You've always been so weird about your room," he says, pulling Charlie's blanket over both of them before Charlie has a chance to, immediately making himself at home.

"You already make fun of me for my supposedly messy lab, I couldn't deal with you making fun of my room, too," Charlie groans, resting his head on Nick's shoulder and handing him the remote.

Nick turns on the TV, looking through Charlie's library. "You impugn my honor, I would never." He flicks through the movies, searching, until he gets to a familiar one. "So, I know you really like Moonlight, but..."

"No way, that's too heavy after today. Go ahead and put on Iron Man, I know you want to."

"Read my mind," Nick says, and puts the movie on, and they're both asleep before Tony Stark leaves the cave, hands intertwined on top of the blanket.

Charlie wakes to Nick staring at him intently. It's... a little unsettling, if he's being honest.

"Good... morning?" He says, shifting to face him, and for a moment, Nick doesn't react, and Charlie wonders if he's sleeping with his eyes open.

"I think you should report Ben," he says suddenly, and then Charlie is abruptly wide awake.

"Oh," he says, sitting up on the couch, and realizing he must've slept on his neck weird, because it hurts. "Um. I guess," he says, and Nick scoots closer to him.

"I'm serious," he insists, still looking at Charlie. "His behavior was really not okay, and either you're going to end up back in that lab or someone else is, right? I mean, I'll respect your decision, you're the one he— he hurt, but..."

"No, you're right," Charlie says, realizing he's been selfish. "I should. I'll do it."

Nick frowns a little, gaze dropping down to his hands as he sinks back into the couch a little, deflated. "I really don't mean to push you, and I meant it when I said it's your choice. I just— the thought of you going back there and being alone with him... I hate it. And... I don't know what to do about it, except... you know."

"Yeah," Charlie says, suspecting that Nick has been thinking about this for a while. "I get it," he says, resting a hand over Nick's, and Nick finally looks back up at him, his expression sad.

"And I want you to know that it really is okay if you just want to go back to your lab, compatibility be damned. If you don't want to be a pilot, then I don't want you to be, either. You're really, really good at designing giant robots."

Charlie chuckles at that, which he thinks was probably the point, and Nick finally seems to relax, just a little. "Do you believe me?" He says, quietly, almost too quiet for Charlie to hear, but he does.

"Yeah, I believe you," Charlie says, and he means it. He believes Nick.

Nick honestly wants Charlie to make the decision, and will be content with whatever Charlie decides, because he really wants Charlie to decide what's best for himself and not whatever Nick or Singh or anyone else thinks he should do, and Charlie thinks he has never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in his life.

He gets to his feet, a little abruptly, and has to quickly stammer out an excuse about needing to shower and get food and hope that Nick buys it and doesn't realize what Charlie was thinking.

Luckily, it looks like their Drift connection is still closed, but Charlie is in for a very difficult time if he doesn't have a conversation with his potential co-pilot before they Drift again.

If he decides to Drift again, that is.

Charlie knocks on the door in front of him after staring at it for about twenty full seconds, which is honestly pretty good for him.

"Come in," says a gentle voice from inside, and Charlie swallows his nerves and goes through the door.

"Long time no see," he says, grinning at Dr Ajayi. "How's the new department?"

Ajayi smiles, holding his arms wide for Charlie to hug him. "Charlie! I forgot you were my three o'clock, I was just about to go check my schedule." He releases Charlie and gestures to a very comfortable-looking leather chair. "Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. Yes, switching to Health has been much better, I never did have a very good head for numbers, even if I was mostly there to run interference for the other scientists. How are you?"

Charlie chats with him for a while, asks about his husband, and then what his latest art project has been, before Dr Ajayi shifts their focus to his Drop with Nick.

"There were— some lingering effects, after the connection was cut, and it... kind of freaked me out a bit," Charlie admits, and Ajayi nods.

"Of course it would, Drifting is terrifying on the best of days, and you had no way to know when or if it was going to end. But it sounds like it faded, eventually?"

"Yeah, it did," Charlie says, relief obvious in his voice. "I was wondering... if that's been a thing, with other copilots, and— and also, if there was ever a situation where, um. Where mentally ill pilots sort of— if that ever effected their copilots, also."

Dr Ajayi frowns, and taps his pen against his chin. "Hmm. Well, there have been quite a few instances of mood synergy, similar to what you've experienced, but a little more long-term with pilots that have been Drifting for years. And there have been several instances of one pilot experiencing some mental health difficulties, like an increase in depression or anxiety, and similar experiences mirror in the copilot.

"But in all those cases, there was often a huge life event that contributed to the distress, like traumatic combat experience, or the death of a loved one, and that experience was felt by the both pilots, and it's unclear whether the mirrored increase in symptoms was because of the pilot with preexisting conditions, or as a side effect of going through the same experiences as them. I'm not aware of any kind of situation where one pilot had, for example, an eating disorder, and then their copilot developed similar behaviors only after continued Drifting."

Charlie squirms in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Well, it sounds dumb when you put it like that," he says, hunching forward in his seat.

"That's not true at all, it's a very reasonable concern to have, and it's entirely possible that it's happened and just hasn't been reported or studied," Ajayi says, tone remaining as gentle as ever. "It's definitely worth keeping an eye on, either way. Every pair of pilots is different, after all, and there's still so much we don't know about the technology."

Charlie nods, and his shoulders drop back down away from his ears as he feels some of his panic and fear start to recede. Sure, there were a lot of uncertainties— but it wasn't like he went into J-tech because it was a well-explored field. "Yeah, that makes sense," he agrees, and Ajayi hums at him and scratches something briefly in his notebook.

They continue talking for a while, and Charlie ends up going into more detail about all sorts of fears and concerns he's had, both from the Drift and also things he'd been worried about before that, and every time Dr Ajayi reframes it in a way that makes it a little smaller, a little more manageable, and Charlie feels less like a puppet yanked around by his own brain.

He knows he thinks and feels things for a reason, and Ajayi is so good at helping him sort out why, and once he understands it, Charlie can start to make a plan for what to do about it.

"Thanks, Doctor," Charlie says as he stands to leave, giving him another hug before he goes. "I'm really glad I talked to you."

"Of course, Charlie, you're welcome here anytime. Even if you don't need to talk about anything, honestly it gets so boring sometimes without all the egotistical heads of department bickering around me all the time, I miss getting to hear all the juicy gossip."

Charlie laughs, knowing that Ajayi actually hated all the inter-departmental drama, and how much happier he is being far away from it all, but appreciating the excuse to come chat with him if he wants to.

"I'll be sure to run right over the next time there's a big row," Charlie jokes, and leaves Dr Ajayi's office feeling lighter than he has in weeks.

"Oh, and one more thing," he says, but it takes a little while to fill Ajayi in on his lab woes and his problematic ex, so he ends up late for dinner.

Nick shows up at Charlie's room with food.

"Um, you just said to grab anything, so I may have gone a little overboard... sorry," Nick says, running a hand through his hair as he steps inside Charlie's tiny apartment carrying two trays overflowing with dinner from the mess.

"Oh, there's no way I'm going to be able to eat all of that," Charlie says, and Nick's dismay is painfully obvious. "Luckily I have a minifridge, so I can just save the rest for tomorrow. Your gross oversight won't end up wasting food." Charlie takes the trays and smiles at Nick, giving him a playful kick in the shin so he stops looking so miserable, and it startles a laugh out of Nick.

"Before that, though, I kind of need to talk to you about something," Charlie says, taking a deep breath as he sets the trays on the table and then tugs Nick over to the couch.

"What's up?" Nick asks, and Charlie can tell that he's trying to sound calm but freaking out on the inside, and he instantly feels bad for his phrasing.

"Oh, it's not— I mean, I don't think it's a problem. I hope not, anyway," he says, and Nick does not look in any way reassured, and Charlie groans, dropping his head onto the couch.

"Sorry, I swear I'm not trying to be all evasive and scary-sounding. It's just... hard to talk about," he says, burying his face in the blanket that's been folded neatly over the couch behind his head.

"Would it help if I told you it's definitely going to be fine, whatever it is?"

"No," Charlie says. "Maybe," he amends, because it might, actually. He can't really say for sure, and he kind of wants to hear Nick say it, anyway.

"Charlie," Nick says, taking one of Charlie's hands between two of his, "whatever you want to say, it's going to be fine. The world is not going to end, and I am not going anywhere."

He looks so serious and stoic, Charlie can't help but laugh. "You're so dramatic," he says, leaning into Nick's shoulder. "You should be in theater."

"Ugh, absolutely not. Have you ever had to memorize lines? I have enough trouble memorizing all the stupid salutes and titles and the command hierarchy we're supposed to know, how am I ever meant to remember an entire book of words?"

"Wow, giving up that easily, are you?" Charlie teases, and Nick's scandalized gasp is so theatric that he starts laughing, wheezy and continuous and he can't make himself stop for what feels like ages, and he likes being around Nick so much.

It's honestly scary, how comfortable and happy he feels, given he's known Nick for— what, a month? Less?

"I was wondering," he says when he's caught his breath, "if—if I become your copilot, what happens to Imogen?"

Nick tilts his head thoughtfully, considering the question. "Well, she'll go back into training in the simulator and try to find another Ranger who's Drift compatible, I suppose. She may not get to pilot a Jaeger for a while, but she's friendly with a lot of people and good at managing the Drift, I'm sure she'll find someone else who's a good enough match. She certainly won't blame you, that would be really petty and she's way cooler than that."

"You've known her a long time, then?" Charlie asks, curious, and also wanting to know more about a person Nick talks this way about, with so much affection and familiarity.

"Yeah, since we were kids," Nick says, grinning. "We went through school together, so I've known her for ages. Grew up near me, too."

"Are you and she...?"

Nick frowns. "What, like, together? No, definitely not. Why does everyone ask that?"

Charlie shrugs, surprised, and maybe just a tiny bit hopeful. "I dunno, the way you talk about her. It's obvious you're close."

"Well, yeah, but it doesn't mean I like her. Not that way, I mean. We dated for like, a week, once, and we both agreed it was terrible and to never do it again."

"Oh," Charlie says, and the hope gets a tiny bit bigger, and he tries not to acknowledge it, because he doesn't know what he'll do if it gets crushed.

"So you're... not dating anyone, then?" Charlie asks, because he hasn't seen Nick with anyone apart from Imogen or Tara and Darcy, and it's not like he's checking his phone constantly or mentioned anyone else, and he's spent quite a lot of time with Charlie lately.

"Nope. Never really thought about it much, I guess. The Ranger training has kept me pretty busy, most of the time."

"Oh. Yeah, me too, I guess. With J-tech, and everything," Charlie says, the words tumbling out of his mouth a little too quickly, but Nick doesn't seem to notice. "Do you... want to? Have time for it, I mean? Dating?"

Nick frowns, thinking. "Hmm... I guess. Maybe. Yeah, that'd be nice. Some of the other Rangers manage to find time for it, so it's not like it's impossible."

"But you... don't have anyone particular in mind?"

Nick blushes, and glances briefly to Charlie before looking away again. "Uh, I dunno. I guess not. Have you?"

It was Charlie's turn to go crimson, apparently. "Um. Well. I guess I, uh, kind of have, a little."

"Really?" Nick asks, sitting up, suddenly very focused on Charlie, who shrinks into the couch.

"I—Why do you sound so surprised? You were in my head yesterday."

"Well, yeah, but I didn't— like, notice anything. Like that," he says, flustered, and Charlie can't find any words at all for a solid few seconds.

Nick. Was in his head. While Charlie was thinking about kissing him. And he didn't notice?!

"You cannot be serious right now," Charlie says, and Nick looks startled, and then distressed.

"I— yes? I don't understand, why are you angry?"

"Oh my god," Charlie says, burying his face into his hands. "Nick, I spent a frightening amount of time yesterday thinking about how badly I wanted to kiss you, how have you not noticed?"

"You— what?" Nick squeaks, turning red again, which Charlie notices because he finally unburies his head from his hands, desperate to see Nick's expression.

"Are you seriously telling me you had no idea? You were in my head, I was thinking about how much I like you right at you, how did you not get it?"

"What was I supposed to notice? It wasn't any different from how I feel about you!"

Both of them go silent at that, and then Nick's expression slowly shifts from indignation, to surprise, to frustration, and then, adorably, to mortification.

"I— oh," he says, quietly, and Charlie has to fight very hard not to laugh, because that would be so mean right now, but it takes a monumental effort. "I may— I may be a little bit of an idiot," Nick says quietly, and Charlie loses it.

"I didn't even— I am having a crisis right now, Char, you're the worst!" Nick says, and Charlie can't stop laughing, especially when he sees Nick's expression, but he also can't resist the surge of affection followed by a very familiar sensation, a desire to act on his affection, and for once he thinks he might be able to do something about it, if he just asks.

"Come here," he says, and tugs Nick closer to him, and Nick looks surprised for a moment but then his eyes drop to Charlie's mouth, and Charlie hesitates a little, waiting to see what Nick does. Nick's gaze flicks back up to Charlie's eyes, and then down again, and after a brief moment of hesitation he leans forward, pulling Charlie closer, and Charlie closes the distance.

Nick's lips are soft, and Charlie is gentle, at first, just pressing his mouth to Nick's, not wanting to overwhelm him, but everything about kissing Nick just feels so right. Charlie wraps his hand in Nick's shirt, and brings the other around to the back of his neck, burying it in Nick's hair, and Nick gasps softly into his mouth, and Charlie feels his control start to slip as he presses a little harder, adjusting the angle slightly, and Nick lets out a soft whine, and Charlie burns.

He pulls back, afraid to go too far, and knows he's made a tactical error because Nick is a little dazed and very much still staring at Charlie's lips and Charlie can't stand how cute that is, and immediately leans back in. Nick is enthusiastic, and makes an appreciative noise, and Charlie leans over him to get better leverage, and Nick tugs him closer and then Charlie is on Nick's lap without breaking the kiss, or series of kisses, which is rapidly turning into a full-blown makeout session.

Charlie tries to focus, and slows down, pulling back just a tiny bit to look at Nick again before dropping his forehead to rest on Nick's, eyes closed, giving him a slight reprieve where he can't be distracted by Nick's face again.

"Was... Was that okay?" Charlie asks, because he needs to know, needs to hear Nick say that it's okay, that he means it, that it's not some whim or passing curiosity.

"Yeah," Nick says, wrapping his arms firmly around Charlie's middle. "Yeah, I— yeah," he says, and buries his nose in Charlie's neck, holding him tight. "Sorry, I just— I didn't realize."

"Now who's saying sorry too much," Charlie says softly, and Nick huffs out a laugh.

"Why are we like this?"

epilogue

Nick hovers outside the sparring ring after his training, waiting, pacing back and forth for twenty minutes before he finally spots the person he's looking for.

"Hey, Imogen," he says, and she smiles at him, and then throws her still-damp towel in his face.

"Where the hell have you been, Nicolas? I've had to spar with Harry all week while you have your mysterious meetings with Singh. What's up?"

"Oh. Um, I kind of, accidentally... found a new copilot," he says, feeling awful about keeping it from Imogen, but until that morning he hadn't known if it was going to happen at all, and hadn't wanted to freak her out over nothing, either. "I'm so sorry, I should've told you."

Imogen shrugs, not really surprised. "Yeah, I kind of figured. We weren't getting scores that would qualify us for real combat, anyway. But it sounds like you and your new copilot can?"

"Yeah," Nick says, a little breathless just thinking about Charlie, and Imogen smiles softly and, if Nick's not mistaken, it's a little bit sad.

"Congratulations, that's huge. I'm really happy for you," she says, her smile genuine.

"Imogen... Have i been a massive ass?" Nick blurts, a little desperate, and definitely out of his depth.

"What? What are you talking about?" Imogen says, startled.

Nick flounders, trying to figure out how to ask without sounding like a complete jerk. "I just... my new copilot, we get along really well. And I haven't known him for very long, but we— he, um—" He gestures vaguely, knowing he's probably making no sense, and takes a deep breath.

"I— I like him, a lot. Um, in a r-romantic way, not in— in a friend way. But I didn't notice, at first, because— because I thought he liked me as a friend. I didn't... I didn't realize, it just felt... familiar... and the only other person—"

"Oh," Imogen says quietly, and Nick feels miserable. Why the hell did he even bring this up? Why did he think this was a good idea?!

"I guess I assumed you knew... We've just been practicing together for so long, and I could tell you didn't feel the same, so I just... left it? I didn't realize you hadn't noticed."

Imogen gives him a small smile, trying for reassuring, and Nick feels awful. "God, I'm such an idiot. You know you're really important to me, right? Even if it's not... that way. You're one of my best friends," Nick says, quiet, feeling lost.

"Yeah, of course I know that," Imogen says. "I always knew that."

"Would... would a hug be totally out of line?" Nick asks, watching her carefully.

"Oh, you'd better not leave without giving me a hug, Ranger, or I will be very upset with you!" Imogen says, and throws her arms around him before he can even move.

"I'm alright, I promise," she says into his jacket, "I'll be fine." And Nick still feels like a massive, oblivious jerk, but he also thinks that they probably will be okay, in the end, maybe after some groveling on his part. Because Imogen is cool like that, and always has been, and he's lucky to have her friendship.

He resolves to help her find a new copilot, whatever the cost.