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Bofur sat quietly in the jaeger hangar, watching as the team attempted to reassemble what was left of his beloved Beaming Broadly. She was ruined, her helm punctured, one leg torn off and an arm barely hanging in place. But jaegers were growing more and more rare every day. What could be salvaged was brought back to be made into scrap metal or reassembled. At least, that was the idea.
But Bofur wasn’t ever stepping foot in another jaeger again. Not with his injuries, and not without his partner.
He and Bifur had never been the best fighters out there, it was true. But they had heart. Their drift compatibility was strong and they had been friends since Bofur’s earliest days. Their families weren’t exactly all that well off, and in a way, the emergence of the kaiju and the subsequent jaeger program was almost a godsend.
Jaeger pilots were super stars. The cousins themselves hadn’t been particularly famous, as Beaming Broadly was usually sent along on smaller, easier missions. That was alright with them; it was a relief to be making enough money to finally live in comfort. Bofur’s brother Bombur and his ever growing family received a large portion of what Bofur made, while the rest went to Bifur and his big plans of someday buying a family farm.
Bofur kicked his feet, swinging them in the air. His hat rested lightly on one knee, his upturned braids messier than usual. He hadn’t been sleeping well. Unsurprising, considering the circumstances. He knew he should go and never return to the Shatterdome, but a part of him yearned once more for his battered old jaeger, to relive those days as they had once been and feel the exhilaration of being...well...more complete than he’d ever felt before. With Bifur and Beaming Broadly, Bofur was part of something more. He could make a difference. Make a better life for his family and for the world. For once in his life, he’d actually felt like he was important. Maybe his name wasn’t well known, but he’d saved lives. Defended entire cities and he’d felt like maybe there was a purpose to his existence besides just struggling from day to day.
But it was all over now.
Letting out a deep sigh, he picked up his hat and put it back on, feeling a bit stronger just in that small motion. The hat, as silly looking as it may be, was all he had left of his father after his untimely death when Bofur was just a teenager.
I need you.
The thought was soft and faint, but Bofur recognized it immediately as belonging to his cousin. Whatever had happened exactly on that fateful night had joined him and Bifur together permanently, and he was both grateful and regretful for that.
He stood without thought, steps a bit unsteady as he made his way back to the medical wing. He was due back in for a check up himself either way, though Bofur had difficulty staying in there for long. It was too stifling, and Bifur’s proximity meant a barrage of thoughts and feelings that Bofur couldn’t handle, not now. It was just too much, and reliving that night over and over was something he didn’t want to do.
“Bif?”
He stepped quietly into the medical wing, immediately moving to his cousin’s bedside. A nurse looked up but made no comment as Bofur sat down in the chair next to Bifur, gently taking one calloused hand in his own. Eyes fluttered open and Bofur smiled softly, even as the brunt of Bifur’s confused thoughts seeped into his own mind.
“You’re awake,” Bofur said softly.
Bifur looked awful. The doctors had done everything they could, but it was impossible to remove the chunk of metal that had lodged itself into his skull without killing him. Most of his head was wrapped heavily in bandages and he was being monitored constantly. His skull had been damaged by the metal, as had his brain, and it wasn’t entirely unlikely that a minor infection could still steal in and kill him. The bond that had formed between them was suspected to be layover from the drift. The connection that formed a neural handshake had been held open by Bifur’s injury, and they expected it would close in the coming months.
In fact, as the doctors had informed Bofur, it was unlikely he would ever heal fully. He would need constant supervision for the rest of his life, which, they reminded him, would likely not last much longer than a few more years. Ten at most.
Distress leaked through their bond and Bifur seemed to feel it. As weak as he was, he squeezed his cousin’s hand gently and thoughts of comfort and reassurance moved between them. Bofur managed a shaky smile, brushing away a few rebel tears with the back of his hand.
“Look, you’re gettin’ me all sentimental. What would the Marshal say, aye?” He laughed softly, rather humorless as he looked down at the ground.
Bifur didn’t say anything in reply. Bofur didn’t expect him to. It was likely he’d lost the ability to speak coherently with the damage that the metal spike had done. Bofur didn’t even know if his cousin could truly understand him. The odds weren’t good.
Bifur’s thoughts were sluggish and not always understandable, but something like a question formed in his mind, directed at his cousin. Bofur looked back up and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“‘M alright,” he told him with a faint smile. I miss you, he wanted to say, but that would be too cruel.
Bifur’s lips twitched in an almost smile and he closed his eyes. A moment later his thoughts smoothed over, and Bofur watched him dream with a quiet sort of wonder and a sense of longing for the old Bifur.
“Bofur, while you’re here, I’d like to run a few quick diagnostics…”
It never ends, does it? Bofur sighed and gave a short nod.
oOo
Days, weeks, months passed. Bifur began to heal, though the shard couldn’t be removed, and after a while it just became normal. His speech didn’t return, but they found ways around that. Between the apparently permanent drift they had developed and some sign language, Bifur was able to speak his mind as best he could.
They moved inland, as far as they could, and Bombur followed with his family. They were lucky though; the government pensions for Bifur and Bofur kept them mostly stable and living in comfort. Bofur even went so far as to buy property, perhaps not as much as Bifur had wanted, but enough for them all to live close to each other and still have room to spare. Bofur stayed with his cousin, while Bombur had his own home for his family.
It was clear that he would never really be the same, despite Bofur’s hopes. Often times Bifur would sit facing the window for hours on end, just staring. Bofur couldn’t ever get anything out of him in those times, but eventually Bifur would come around, say something about the weather, and Bofur would relax. Then there were other times, when his comments would be so strange Bofur would wonder if he just hadn’t understood right. His thoughts would drift down paths that Bofur couldn’t understand or follow.
It was frustrating for Bifur, and that much was obvious. He was trying to communicate but sometimes it was difficult to really understand what he meant. The damage that had been done was irreversible and Bifur literally couldn’t think the way he used to.
It was hard not to worry about him.
oOo
He’s strapped into Beaming Broadly again, facing off the great kaiju. A category 3, they said, codenamed Smaug, great and red and scaly like a dragon. Nothing they couldn’t handle, the science division had said.
They move together, they are together. Bifur and Bofur and their mighty jaeger are all one and the same in three different bodies. Left arm extends, Bofur’s arm, to slam into the kaiju’s jaw, but something happens this time. The great beast seizes the arm, twists and nearly pulls it off and Bofur cries out in pain. Bifur yells something, to stay calm, they can still win this, and through a haze of pain, he pulls himself together. Their arm is useless now, hanging limply at their side, but they aren’t defenseless. Bifur’s arm moves this time, shoots a plasma cannon at the kaiju, and with surprising speed, Smaug darts out of the way, great black wings unfurling and lifting him up out of reach. Where the kaiju lands, they can’t see, and the cousins exchange a quick glance.
It’s when they’re starting to turn around that it strikes from above. The helm of the jaeger is crushed inwardly and this time it’s Bifur who cries out. Bofur tries to reassure him but something is wrong, something is very, very wrong and Bifur can’t fight, Bifur is crippled, what’s going on...
Smaug attacks again, rips off a leg and they fall backwards. It’s all screams and blood and pain and Bofur can’t make sense of anything. The jaeger hits solid ground (thankfully) and Bifur’s still crying out, but whatever he’s speaking, it isn’t any language Bofur knows. The jaeger’s helm illuminates briefly before the power dies, and it’s then that Bofur sees it, the metal jammed into his cousin’s head, blood pouring down his face.
Bofur woke with a cry of terror, jerking in his bed. He realized belatedly that Bifur was holding him down, arms on his shoulders and pressing him down against the mattress. Tears were streaking down his cheeks, mixed with a cold sweat, and once Bifur realized Bofur was awake, he let go, carefully wiping Bofur’s cheeks with his sleeve.
He was shaking all over and his left shoulder was aching something awful. Sitting up, he leaned slightly against Bifur, who sat down beside him and quietly began to undo Bofur’s braids, letting the thick dark hair fall out across his shoulders. Bofur said nothing as he allowed his cousin to calm him and just closed his eyes. Fingers brushed gently through his now loose hair.
Bofur sighed and pressed his face into Bifur’s collar, trying to calm his racing heart and even out his breathing. Bifur hummed tunelessly and continued to pet his hair, sending reassuring and calming thoughts through their bond. Slowly but surely, he began to relax.
“Sorry, Bif,” he mumbled into his cousin’s shoulder. Bifur rumbled something in his throat in reply, and Bofur was quite sure he was being told to think nothing of it. He nodded and quieted once more. Bifur’s hands moved from his hair to his bad shoulder, gently massaging. That drew out a quiet groan from Bofur as his stiff muscles began to relax. There had always been a side of Bifur that was incredibly nurturing, and while this wasn’t the first time he’d helped Bofur through a nightmare, that didn’t make him any less grateful.
After some time, Bofur began to doze off. Sensing this, Bifur carefully helped his cousin lie down once more and made to leave. Bofur shook his head, fingers closing around his wrist.
“Stay this time,” he said softly. “There’s enough room for us both.”
Bifur hesitated a moment before nodding, and Bofur moved over to allow him room. Almost instinctively, the two curled up together, and for the first time in a long while, Bofur allowed himself to think that maybe, just maybe, things would be alright.