Chapter Text
Winter of 2002
What much could happen in a mission, other than death?
Surely not failure, as Hunk has just proven, yet again, that he won’t falter even with a gun at his head. The objective has been transferred, one way or the other.
And while a gunshot to his shoulder did make things harder, he was still confident he would be able to clean the last survivor up.
The latin man was much younger than him, and while he could by no means say that he was inexperienced, his skills were far lesser, leaning more on his strength.
Hunk couldn’t deny the others' persistence to survive either, which he could respect.
And he barely overlooked the comment on him looking like a moth.
It would have been an almost fair fight, if their surroundings hadn’t decided to collapse around them. Fighting at the top of an abandoned construction site truly wasn’t the best idea to begin with, taking into consideration the damage the structure had taken earlier.
With his footing loose and a large piece of metal swinging his way, he barely had time to react. His arms could barely hold the object from cutting through his skull as part of it is embedded through his mask, forehead being cut easily by the force of it. Blood flowing over his right eye, impairing his already limited vision.
And it continued to press.
His arms struggling to hold, hands not being spared from blood even through the gloves.
This was an awful position to be in, seeing how the other man, his enemy at the moment, was pointing his gun right at him.
To his surprise, the man didn’t shoot.
Almost made him forget about the moth comment.
Through all the pain his muscles were in, he managed to push the object barely enough to move his head to the left, freeing himself from death. It did deal a last blow against his temple, lengthening the cut going over his forehead.
It left his mind foggy. Especially with the mask, it was hard to keep track of his surroundings, only one eye able to see.
A lot of blood was running down the right side of his face, a ringing sound in his ears.
A single coincidence led to him being at a great disadvantage. Or it led to him still being alive. In the end, it didn’t matter, as he had to make the best out of what he had left.
His opponent was waiting for him to find his footing again.
He could barely keep on his feet though.
Then he watched as the man tilted his head, but he couldn’t make out the look on his face.
Only that he was getting closer.
A hand was laid on his shoulder, it felt so very heavy.
“So… Wanna agree on a tie?”
The others' faces showed features way too soft for the situation they had just been in, all framed by those dark locks.
He did not want to agree to a tie, reason to why he now has embedded a knife in the arm that’s weight rested on his shoulder.
Then gravity seemed to evaporate right under him, though till he had realized that the floor had collapsed underneath them, his body had already fallen down an unhealthy amount of height, his already done for head right onto the hard and unforgiving concrete below.
At this point, that tie sounded sweeter than ever. Not that he had much of a choice, stemming his body onto his arms before collapsing right back down.
“Let me help you…”
And with that, his mask was removed, then the cover over the rest of his head.
This was now a problem. Hunk couldn’t have cared less to even have lost, to have been shown mercy.
His identity being known?
“Shit…” both of them said under their breath.
“Yeah, that wound… It’s not looking great.”
As if that was what was on Hunk’s mind at this point.
He couldn’t just let the other see his face. Barely anyone had so before, most of the ones that had died faster than he could blink. Especially if they were his enemy.
Yet all he could do is to accept the help to have his head bandaged half-heartedly, be picked up, his arm being slung over the others shoulders as he carried his weight. It was still hard to walk, his feet stumbling over themselves more than anything else.
He was sure to have passed out in between, not knowing how they ended up in a forest. Or when it had gotten dark.
There were lights in the far, a harsh contrast.
Near it, he was laid down on the ground. Too gently for his taste, though his head thanked the other for it.
“How is your hair already white?”
Hunk wished for silence, irritated that the man tried to talk to him. And somehow, he still found himself answering “It isn’t… just a very light blonde”.
“Hydrogen blonde, is it?”
“... What? Just blonde… You could see it if I let it grow a little”.
“Okay, good. Looking forward to it, then”.
“Hah…” Hunk closed his eyes, the absurdity of the situation taking a few seconds to get to him through his messed up consciousness. Was the other man really asking him about his hair?
And if yes, had he just entertained the conversation?
“Tell me your number and I might arrange it…” Hunk didn't mean the words, meaning them as an obvious joke. The other did answer, giving him some random numbers to entertain their very bad fake flirting.
The man waved at him goodbye before taking out a gun and shooting into the direction of the lights. Then he ran away.
From that direction Hunk could hear voices, getting louder. The sight of people in gear calmed him, understanding that they were on his side. The Latin man had deliberately led them here to help him.
That would be a memorable end to a mission.
____
a few weeks later
Jill found Carlos smiling at his flip-phone.
Smiling.
Which would have been completely fine if he didn't turn his screen away when she tried to sneak a look on it.
Not once in the five years they have known each other has Carlos done that. The man was always an open book, letting her in in every littlest part of his life. Not that he ever had anything to hide. He sometimes shared too much with her, one would say.
Jill did not need to know about his failed flirting attempts.
And then, she was almost jealous of his inability to feel shame. If she had half the confidence, perhaps she would have found a girlfriend by now. Instead, she was surrounded by two complete idiots unable to do anything right but fight.
Must be the sacrifice for their skills on the battlefield. Their intellect. Their self-reflection.
“Not now, Jill…” Carlos said as he pushed her noisy nose away before closing the phone altogether and looking at her uncomfortably serious.
Jill moved away “Sorry… Just not used to you keeping stuff from me. Didn’t mean to pry that much”.
For a moment the serious look on Carlos’ face stayed before he gave her a soft smile.
“You don’t have to worry. I am not sending out any dick pics without showing you first-”
and for that, Jill hit him in the face.
“I swear, don’t you dare show me any of that nasty shit. Generally, don’t show that to anyone- ew”.
Carlos just laughed it off before turning his phone back on. This time, Jill didn’t dare to look. If Carlos had meant to warn her, she would rather be cautious of what his screen could possibly hide.
Yet, when she saw Carlos’ eyes lit up again, she couldn’t resist prying more. While the man did always attempt to shoot his shot at any person he finds attractive, Jill included, things barely went further than a few words. It might have to do with Carlos’ past. And his present. It wasn’t exactly easy to date anyone when your job consisted of putting your own life at risk. It was even harder to trust anyone new.
“Who is the lucky lady?” she finally asked.
“... What?”
“Who are you talking to? Please don’t traumatize another poor lady with your bad flirting attempts, Carlos”
“...”
“What? Is it that serious that you can’t tell me about it? Please, Carlos. I have to be prepared in case of you bringing someone into our home! And I need some time to heal from the wound that would leave in my heart, cus how could you possibly find someone before I do?”.
Carlos laughed again before turning his phone off “Jill… I don’t think I can tell you much about him…”
“...”
“Sorry, Jill…”
“HIM?”
____
Carlos sighed, his mysteries wouldn’t lead him to much with Jill. And it wasn’t as if he had much to hide. Sure, one questionable choice perhaps. But that was normal for him, Jill was used to his nonsense after 5 years.
He finally relented, giving her his phone.
What she saw must have been a disappointment after what she had assumed just now. Not that Carlos wouldn’t date a man, but he didn’t feel the need to tell her that.
“The hell does this mean? Why is this guy thanking you?”
“Just some mercenary I helped out on my last mission…”
“And why does he have your number?”
Because Carlos had given it to him? But that was wrong, he had half heartedly said his number, never believing that the other could possibly remember any of it. Not with the state he had been in. A concussion must have been the least, not taking the blood loss into account.
“I told him as a joke. I didn't expect him to remember it” it was the truth.
But he was glad the man seemed fine.
“So, you gonna ask him out?”
Carlos laughed “Absolutely not… He wasn't exactly friendly. Really, I should be blocking his number”.
“You are an idiot, Carlos… If he wasn't friendly, why risk him being able to track you down?” Jill said as the voice of reason.
“Too late for that now” Carlos said as he took his phone back. He looked at the messages they had sent each other. It wasn't much, and he would leave it at that. Hoping that it would just end up being a fun story he could tell others in a few years, praying that he wouldn't actually have to deal with any consequences. Yes, it was best to not cross the man's path again as well. He had no assurance of the other being as friendly and merciful towards him as he had been.
But he did not block the number.