Lucky scraps

==December 3, 2019==
Lucky brushes gently against the sensation of /cloud-white-fast that's Striker's presence. –Hey, Strike, how ye doin'?–
Striker's data stretches in the equivalent of a yawn. –Sleepy, but 'wake now,- the baby Jaeger murmurs. -D'ya want somethin'?–
–Nah. Jus' checkin' up on ye. Go back t' sleep, sprog.– Lucky gives Striker an affectionate pat and a quick hug.
–'kay.– Striker tucks zher's edges into Lucky's gaps and presses back /happy-sleepy-safe.
Lucky wraps Striker in more /safe and cradles zher until zhe falls asleep, data usage slowing to low, even pulses. He carefully unthreads his data and leaves Striker in zher's central processor, heading off with a soft glow around himself.
He sets out on his evening rounds.
Peeks into Scott's mind-space.
The usual angry, jumbled, blurry mess.
Lucky sighs, leaves silently.
Reaches for Herc.
Strains.
Jams himself bit-by-bit through their Bond.
Herc's mind-space shifts /headache.
–Sorry,– Lucky mumbles. –Path's gettin' awful tough but 's'not yer fault.–
-'s'not yers, either.–
–Don't worry 'bout me; I'll be fine if th' Bond gives out. Striker needs ye more'n I do.–
–Know ye will, but ....– Herc drops into a squishy chair in his quarters' common area.
–I kin handle Scott.– Lucky offers wryly. 
Herc flashes /guilt-anger-shame.
Lucky gives Herc the mental equivalent of a kick. 
Herc winces. –Oi!–
–Knock that off. Ye got two sprogs t'be watchin' so ye can't be a mope.–
–Should be Pietr,– Herc sighs. –Would do a better job 'a it.-
Lucky kicks him again. –But it's /you, so ye do th' job.–
Herc shakes his head slowly before a small sound attracts his attention. Lucky catches a glimpse of Team Striker's Squire offering his tablet for Herc's signature.
Herc's ragged presence smooths a little as he smiles at the kid, who can't be much older than Chuck.
Lucky seizes the opportunity and washes as much /love as he can summon over Herc. He slips away into the ether without waiting for a response.
After quick zip to check on the still-snoozing Striker, Lucky weaves himself into the Squire's tablet.
–Gotta be /somethin' in here I kin talk te th' kid about,– Lucky mumbles, scanning files.
He finds what he wants in a folder labeled 'CE448.'
–/That's th' ticket!– he crows and races back to his server for some research which is where Coyote finds him.
–You've got that color again,– the older Jaeger teases.
–What color?– huffs Lucky.
–The one which means you're up to something.–
Lucky shifts back to his usual /red-rust-black (a little /too quickly, perhaps). –Jest lookin' fer some common ground with Herc's Squire.–
Coyote brightens inquisitively. –The third Jones brother?–
–That's th' one.– Lucky sifts the Squire's preferred online forum.
–Why the sudden interest in him and ... are those bridge plans?–
–Kid makes Herc smile,– Lucky grumbles. –Good enough reason fer me.– He passes over a cache of files. –An' those're his designs.–
Coyote shifts an appreciative yellow. –Young Master Jones has a bit of a flair for this. These are elegant.–
–An' pretty much disaster-proof. Highest stability ratin' ye can get fer this sorta thing,– Lucky states with pride.
–All that and a Squire, too. Special kid.–
–Yea. So shy, though, he's 'most invisible. An' wound tighter than a coiled spring. Gonna try an' help him with those.–
–Aha! /That's what you're up to!–
Lucky sniffs. –Jest gonna try an' draw him out a bit online. Kid deserves a break, caught like he is 'tween two Hansens /an' two Joneses.–
Coyote contracts in sympathy. –Don't envy him a bit.–
–Yea. Oldest Jones's /damn fuckin' lucky my frame's in th' Bay; wanna smash him fer what he did t' Dad th' other day.– Lucky glows fiery red, swells.
Coyote splashes him with /blue-calm. 
Lucky sparks, then shivers.
–Better.– 
Lucky snarls.
–Jackson's been disciplined and what's done's done. Besides,– Coyote twinkles, –I'm sure you've already taken some sort of revenge.–
-'a /course. I—–
Coyote wraps Lucky in a loop of data, choking off any reply. –I don't want to know.–
Lucky wriggles free, ruffles his data. –If ye'll excuse me, I have work t' do.– With a chuckle, Coyote blinks out. –Nosy blighter.–
One account, one recovered design, and one forum post later, Lucky pumps his metaphorical fists in victory.
-This one's collapsing because the abutments are in a poor place. In brace-ribbed arches, they need to be closer to the shoreline. [D. Jones commented @ 23:07]-
Lucky counts down from six billion a few times, then replies: -Thanks. Think y' could help me with m' other designs? I keep runnin' into problems at th' simulator and my Prof is kickin' my arse. [K. Bond replied @ 23:13]-
-Sure, but I'm just a part-time student. Maybe one of the engineers would be more help. [D. Jones replied @ 23:17]-
-Well, 'm a student, too, mate. We kin help each other. [K. Bond replied @ 23:20]-
-Oh. Okay. This a good place to keep in contact? [D. Jones replied @ 23:22]-
-Yea, it's fine. Should have m' next try done by tomorra ev'nin. You be around then? [K. Bond replied @ 23:24]-
-I should be, as long as something doesn't come up at work. See you then. [D. Jones replied @ 23:30]-
-Thanks, mate! [K. Bond replied @ 23:31]-
Lucky logs out, glowing proudly.
==January 21, 2021==
From Kae: Hey Derek?
From Derek: Yeah? Is it your brother again?
From Kae: Nah. 'Snot about him this time. 
From Derek: But it is important. 
From Kae: Yeah. Yer good at this. 
From Derek: *eye-rolling emot-con* 'S my job, remember? 
From Kae: Smartarse. 
From Kae: How do ye know when ye like someone? 
From Derek: Well, umm... I don't know. 
From Kae: Ye don't? Right. 'M still fumblin' with ye. 
From Derek: ... Think ye could describe it? 
From Kae: Thinkin' 'bout 'em a lot. 
From Kae: They make me smile. 
From Kae: An' I get real warm
From Kae: when they talk t' me. 
From Derek: Classic signs of a crush. 
From Derek: According to Google anyway. 
From Kae: Damn. Was hopin' it would go away. 
From Derek: Why? 
From Kae: Cause they're outta my league. 
From Derek: Boy or girl? Or y'know anything else.
From Kae: Promise not t' laugh? 
From Derek: Of course. 
From Kae: Boy. 
From Derek: Why are they 
From Derek: and I quote, "Outta your league"? 
From Kae: They're straight. 
From Derek: Oh. I didn't, umm, know. 
From Kae: Not a lot of people do. 
 
-November 8, 2024- 
Lucky squares his coding and presses against Scott's Bond with measured patience. 
/What?/ 
[We gotta talk.] Lucky states bluntly, the flickers of warmth he once held for his pilot almost all for Derek now. 
/Ye figure out a way to get out of my mind?/ Scott scoffs with a bitterness Lucky knows is only partially correct. They both want out of this, albeit for different reasons. 
[It ain't like that an' ye know it, Scott.] Lucky growls back with a sharp spike of resentment. [Ye caused a lot o' problems an' yeah, ain't yer fault m' frame is rottin' in Oblivion Bay but ye didn' exactly HELP either-] 
/So now 's my fault ye wanna get away from me?!/ The whiplash of cutting sorrow throws Lucky for a loop. /All I want is t' ferget I ever was a pilot. Wanna start again where no one knows Scott Hansen, jus' Scott Rourke. I know I made mistakes with ye an' Chuck an' Herc, okay?/ 
[... Scott. 'M tryin' t' tell ye that I found another human t' Bond with so ye c'n start over. I know I'm not the greatest Jaeger either. Pushed a lotta th' blame on to ye.] Lucky sighs as he curls around his pilot in a mental hug like they haven't done since the Triton Tasmania incident. [Don' wanna make this any harder than it has t' be.] 
Scott presses back with regret and soft affection, both of them sore from the years of fighting each other and the Bond. /C'n I at least know who's replacin' me?/ 
[Derek Jones. He's sweet an' a little quirky but I think it'll work out jus' fine.] Lucky happily purrs as he texts Derek an okay to discussing one of the books they're reading together. 
/... Yer tellin' me ye wanna Bond with The Shed's Mouse? Striker's Squire? Does zher even know?/ Scott hisses in a breath as a spark from the welding tool lands in the one place that isn't covered by gloves or sleeve. 
[Yeah. Striker knows an' zher's cool with it. We had a long talk wit' Pietr b'fore... Well, b'fore he died. Strike's pissed at th' new Marshal; wants t' feed 'im to a Kaiju.] Lucky hums as he shows Scott the new guy. Striker's not the only one who wants to dangle the bastard over the edge of the Jaeger Bays. 
/I would too. Even if I'm not PPDC anymore even I know that was a shitty move. Ye don't separate pilots, not even in death./ comes the snark that the Hansens are famous for in the media. 
[Question for ye, Scott; ye want me t' snap the one ye share with Herc too?] The way Scott recoils suggests that link is permanent. 
/Can't. Not unless one of us is dead. Sevier an' Beckets showed me tha' much. Ye couldn't snap it even if ye tried, Lucky./ Scott shivers physically and mentally as he says it. /I swear th' stuff's made outta Jaeger alloy with how strong it is./
[Oh. Thought I'd help out b'fore I go.]
/It's alright. Yer a good Jaeger, Lucky. I know I messed up wit' ya./ The affection that's being washed over him now makes Lucky waver. /Ye deserve a fresh start./ 
[But... You'll be alone.] Lucky says softly, shame washing through their Bond as he realizes this. 
/Oi, sprog, I c'n take care of myself. Go keep th' Mouse company. He needs ye more 'n I do./ Scott scoffs much like Lucky had once to Herc. 
[Yer sure?] 
/Yeah. Jus'... One more cuddle b'fore ye go./ Lucky wraps his entire essence around the Bond he has with Scott, pressing his love and the lingering sadness that he's unable to leave out. /C'n we stay like this fer a bit? Still need t' finish this strut, ye know./ 
[Of course.] Lucky snuggles in close and pulses warmth down the link as he stays with his older pilot. [Ye know I'd do anythin' fer you.]
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