6: Compensation

"So the food sucks. The bed sucks. Location sucks. Remind me again how you manage to get anyone to stay on-board, even with ya blowjobs on tap?"

"Awww, food ain't so bad!" Samael protested as he gestured to the near-empty plates stacked on the crude nightstand. "You ate just 'bout every bite! An' c'mon, now..." He patted the thin mattress of the cot beneath him, swinging his legs and raising his eyebrows playfully. "Get on over here 'n I'll show ya the bed's ain't too terrible, neither!"

Robin gestured dismissively with his hand from his spot on the floor across the dimly-lit room. "I woulda eaten roadkill if ya stuck it in front of me, I told ya I was fuckin' hungry." He yawned and let his head drop against the timber behind him. "But last thing I need's another speech about why we're here. You can drop the sales pitch, Shorty. Just hurry up and find me somethin' to do."

When Samael realized Robin had no intention of abandoning the roughshod stone floor, he slid off the cot to pad across the room. Robin opened one eye to watch him approach, but otherwise didn't tell him to fuck off. Samael smiled a bit, then dropped down next to the ex-soldier so he could prop himself against the hard-packed dirt wall at Robin's side. "Aw, man -- ya ain't even said nothin' about yer door. We got you one'a the best ones we could find!"

Robin glanced down at him before they both looked to the far corner of the bunk, where a wrinkled green tarp hung loosely over the entrance to the semi-private quarters. An awkward beat or two skipped past before Samael broke into laughter as Robin shoved his side but gave a snicker of his own. "Ya know what, a tarp probably is an upgrade from where you come from. You said Sampi, right?"

Samael brightened. "You remembered!"

"Kinda hard to forget with that deep-fried accent, gatito."

Samael chuckled and then gently elbowed Robin's ribs in return. "Most people get the Sampi part right. Thing that blows everyone's mind is the fact I ain't just from Sampi...I'm from a tribe!"

Not even Robin's sealed emotional vault could prevent some surprise from leaking through as he squinted down at Samael. "No mames. How the hell's a redneck from the snow caves end up in the Movement?"

Samael beamed and rubbed along his thighs, his toes flexing delightedly at the spark of curiosity. "Aw, it weren't actually as crazy as it sounds...I was always kind of a rebel, even among mah own people. An' then one day I'm out doin' my maturity trials, and happen to run into a li'l group of Movement recruits gatherin' folks together." He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the agonized bliss of his memories. Telling Andee the whole truth had made the weight of his ghosts a little less overbearing. "I told 'em I wanted in. Got some weird looks -- it ain't even like the Reds or Blues was draftin' out there in the middle'a nowhere, so I ain't had no real good reasons to join the resistance, far as those folks saw. But it felt like fate. I ain't looked back since."

That was a dark-brimmed lie, but the misty smile kept the whispers of inadequacy at bay. Robin seemed to be studying him, which still felt odd coming from anyone who wasn't York.

"That angry woman on the radio...Nellis?"

"Nelson," Samael corrected with a half-smile.

"Yeah. Nelson. She the one who gave ya your first bullshit speech?" Robin scratched at the end of his muzzle. "I wanna know who to blame for teaching you all that shit you spouted off to me."

The pang grew louder despite Samael's best efforts and he forced a short laugh. "Haw, uh...naw, naw. I met her...a li'l bit later. She got a whole different way of speechin' to folks 'bout the Movement, ain't so big on the positivity 'n the hopes 'n dreams and all that..."

"Maybe take a few lessons from her instead of the other guy, then," Robin advised mildly.

Samael looked down at his hands, laughing faintly and tasting copper. "Maybe should," he mumbled. He sighed and pretended he could live up to the sacrifice as he attempted to construct a cheerful smile. "But hey, it worked on you!"

"Nah, cabron. I ain't here for the future of Sirca or any of that shit. Giving me a suicidal fight is what worked. This place is perfect for me."

Samael exhaled. But something came to him after a few more seconds of silence. He turned his hands over and produced a different, thoughtful smile while examining the chipped polish on his claws. "You ever paint yer nails?"

"Mm?" He felt Robin shift at his side. "Oh. It ain't really my thing."

The smile tickled a bit wider. "Heh, that ain't a 'no'."

Robin snorted and lightly kicked a prosthetic into Samael's paw. "My sisters used me a couple times for practice, but that's about it."

"Aw man, that's awesome..." Samael rolled his head back with a wistful grin. "Mah sisters ain't never did nothin' like that with me. Ol' Jo taught me how to field-strip a snow-deer, though, that was purdy handy. An' mah big sister Aggie, she's the one who helped me shine up these li'l red rocks I got." He waved his tail between his legs to make the two-part piercing jangle. "But ain't none'a them ever showed me how to paint my claws!"

"Guess I never got into the whole...body-art thing," Robin grumbled. "We ain't permanent, so why waste time decorating ourselves."

"'Cuz ain't nothin' wrong with bein' a walkin', talkin' statement!" Samael declared, pumping a fist and nodding several times. "I get this whole rebellion feels like a one-way ticket...but I ain't goin' down without leavin' a real purdy corpse!"

Robin shook his head as a low chortle slipped from his jaws. "You're a special kinda crazy, Shorty." Samael watched him cross his arms over his chest, his eyes locked onto the opposite wall.

Samael waited a moment, then nudged the other chupa. "Nothin's truly permanent, y'know. Not Omega, not the House, not even all them buildings you sprayed on." Robin's eyes narrowed as his pupils flicked over to Samael, but he remained silent. "Everything crumbles 'n returns to the mama cat eventually. We're just helpin' it along faster. Givin' Sirca a li'l boost to take back what belongs to her."

Samael didn't mind taking a stab for the sake of Robin's soul. He figured it was a roll of the dice whether or not he'd make the guy clam up even tighter, or maybe snap at him, or maybe--

"We didn't tag up just any buildings. We were dumb kids, but...we weren't blind." Robin reached down to absently finger his necklace as Samael glimpsed York's thoughtful gaze laid over Robin's inscrutable features. "Didn't take us long to realize that every single building in our neighborhood, every house, every apartment, every corner store and marketplace, they were all falling apart. Barely standing, dirty, poor. Except for any place the House built." His fingers closed around the charm and his eyes hardened. "They'd knock down a community center, put up this giant, spotless, gold-inlaid church. Never put any of that money into helping us out, just to build some new, shiny Omegite bullshit."

He glanced back at Samael for a few seconds, and Samael could see memories playing through Robin's eyes. "We sprayed lots of our buildings, of course, gave our community some color. But R...Rico, he'd tell me. 'Listen, cabron...they force that shit on us, we should give back. Remind them where they are.' And so my first real big tag..." A pleased smirk drifted across Robin's features as he raised a hand for emphasis, like he was framing a distant sight. "Right on the side of a brand-new church. Minutemen almost busted our asses, spotted us when we were done, but Rico was fast. Taught me how to be fast, too." He dropped his pendant and snorted disdainfully. "Babosos ain't had a chance catchin' us."

Samael smiled warmly and drew a knee up toward his chest to hug his leg with one arm. "I know you said you was a li'l too busy to join the Movement back then, but. Man. You 'n your friend woulda been perfect. I ain't never spent much time in a big city, I'm just a li'l ol' country boy...but that's the kinda spirit we need. Folks fightin' back in every an' any way they can."

It was another long shot that rewarded Samael with another brief laugh. "Rico told me the same shit. Kinda guy who looked like you could break him in half just by sneezing too hard, but he always had ya back. He said even if we couldn't change the whole ring...we could do something for us. For our people, our raza."

"Aw man...wish I coulda met him," Samael murmured.

But this time it was a gamble too far as Robin's expression flattened before he affixed a simple mask to show Samael a manufactured smile. "It didn't make no difference. And they probably painted over that shit a week later."

Samael chewed the inside of his lip and then dared to let his torso slump against Robin's side. Robin didn't shove him away, though also offered nothing in return as Samael reached up and fiddled with some of his bandaging. "Maybe. But...bet it gave some folks somethin' nice to look at fer a little while. An' it caused the House to waste time, resources 'n people on fixin' it up." He paused and rubbed at his throat. "Me 'n mah li'l fireball had a coupla fights 'bout this kinda stuff. 'Bout...'bout whether it makes a difference, 'n if it's worth fightin' the fight. Givin' our lives fer the cause 'n all that."

He patted a familiar series of scars buried beneath his chest fur. "Used to think Andee jus' joined up 'cuz he wanted to make some noise. Set off some bombs, piss off some folks, steal a buncha shit 'n then get out 'fore anything got too crazy. But...but he's gotta rebel's heart, just like me." A small smile moved slowly back into place. "We don't agree on a lot, but we both know Sirca's fucked up. An' I think in our own ways, we both wanna do somethin' about it. Even if it's summin' small. Might still be big from the right perspective, y'know?"

Robin was quiet for a few moments until he eventually looked down at Samael again. "What's-her-name, that teacher-lady. She mentioned Andee, too. That ya boyfriend or..."

Samael smirked and nudged Robin's leg with a paw. "Y'vonne! You gotta get better at rememberin' all the names of yer new friends!" Robin rolled his eyes as Samael laughed. "Anyway, he'd get mad if I said yeah, but...hell yeah he is! Can't wait fer you to meet 'im, too! I bet he's gonna love you, two'a y'all got a lot in common with all yer grumpin' around 'n callin' everythin' we do here useless."

Robin finally smiled back as he lifted his eyebrows in bemusement. "So not only do you got a boyfriend, but ya want him to meet me? This some kinda sex thing, cabron, two of you get off to this or what?"

Samael blinked and then giggled away as he flopped a hand back and forth. "Oh lawd, no, no! Well..." He paused and thought of the hot springs. Those damned hot springs.

He cleared his throat and moved a hand down to cover his crotch. "I don't think so," he continued with a half-grin up to Robin. "'S more like...he don't mind? I mean, neither one of us mind, we cain't be together all the time, an' I think he might go crazy if he had to spend all day with me."

"I feel like most people would," Robin offered with a slight grin of his own. His eyes darted down to Samael's hand. "So he ain't the jealous type?"

"Oh, he is!" Samael chirped before realizing how it sounded and quickly rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish laugh. "I mean...y'know. He knows how good I am at recruitin' folks. An' he knows I'm, er. Needy? But he also knows I love him more'n anything else on Sirca, so it ain't like he's gotta worry none!"

Samael wasn't sure if he was intrigued or wary of the spark flickering to life in Robin's eyes. "Yeah? Ya sure he ain't the reason that I ain't got ya off yet?"

...Well, now that lowered hand wasn't doing much except announcing the victorious return of his loathsome libido. Samael sprouted a goofy grin as his eyes lidded teasingly. "Shit, hon, I ain't sure Andee's the only jealous one. You threatenin' me with a good time again?"

"Nah, it ain't you I'm gonna threaten, gatito," Robin boasted as he slid a strong arm around Samael's broad shoulders. "Take off those shorts so I can give ya boyfriend a story for later..."

There was no denying the bolt of apprehension that collided with the burst of desire. Samael had more than a few friends who were this eager to match his needs -- his big pup pal, obviously, but he'd been surprised by how often Vincent had come to his quarters lately, and he'd yet to have Trevor turn him down, either. And if you combined all of Andee's friends...spirits have mercy.

Robin was different, though. Few of those who willingly planted their flag in Movement soil were without their share of looming issues and lurking demons. But Robin's heart felt conflicted, as if someone had taken all the fiery passion of York and then roughly encased it with Andee's frigid shell. Samael was drawn to him, but not the same way he was to his best friend, or to the bat he held closer to his heart than any other soul on the ring.

Maybe he wanted to help this guy illuminate his shadows and find a healthier reason to throw himself into the resistance. Maybe he wanted to sate his own curiosity, discover what could create such a handsome yet fractured beast, and then maybe try his best to return sensation to the overwhelming numbness that shrouded Robin's gaze.

And yeah. Maybe he just wanted to fuck him, too. There was allure to a lost cause, a kinship Samael could embrace and entice and entangle without the fear of breaking another heart. He cared deeply for every intimate partner he called friend...and it hurt every time he felt their gaze linger on his tail retreating from their doorway. He didn't think he'd ever have to confront that longing stare with Robin, and he knew damn well he didn't risk a second thicker-than-bond brother. His relationship with York might not have been healthy, but it was deep, and it was true, and it was forged with steel.

As he hooked his thumbs into his waistband to wiggle free from his shorts, he knew by the glint in Robin's eyes that the only depth he risked here was his own cavernous lust. And if Robin was willing to descend the abyss to delay addressing his problems...who was Samael to stop him?

Samael wiggled along the floor so he was once more pressing against Robin's side, earning a mild look but no further repudiation. He took it as a good sign and smiled up at the dirt-and-rock ceiling. "Most'a the secrets 'round here are pretty borin', anyway," he murmured, his tail jingling softly against Robin's leg. "What really sucks 'bout this whole thing is that...man, it ain't even like we're tryna reveal some big secret 'bout Omega or the House or nothin', you know?" He hesitated and then shuffled his body a bit. "Well, I guess maybe we are...but at the end of the day, we don't care about that shit. It ain't like the shit that Omega 'n the House 'n the Holy War does is hidden. It's out there, right in front'a everyone's eyes."

He glanced down with a sigh. "I always tell folks that I do what I do fer Sirca, for her people, to help free 'em from all this awful shit. But sometimes I wonder. How many of 'em see what goes on every single day, what's been goin' on fer forever...an' jus' don't care? I know better than to think everyone with a good heart has the strength to join the resistance, but. I still wonder."

Robin was quiet for several seconds until his tail flicked lightly against Samael's. "Lots of people don't care. This ring is a piece of shit, gatito." Samael grimaced, but when he looked up at Robin, he saw a strange mix of emotions on the ex-soldier's normally-flat features. "But. Think there's more people out there who do care. They're just so worn down, it's hard to fight back. It ain't always about being scared. Not everyone's so lucky to have the people they care about living out in some cave in the middle of nowhere, or buried underground where they don't hear the dropships."

Samael didn't need the mind-reading abilities Andee so loathed to understand what Robin meant. "So...how did y'all deal with it?" he asked quietly.

Robin took in a measured breath and cradled the back of his head in his hands again, letting one of his legs rest against Samael's. "Ya not completely wrong, Shorty. Some people do just look away. You see enough neighbors, enough friends, enough family taken away by the black-suits, you see enough familiar faces at the hangings...you either get mad, get sad, or play along. Lotta people weren't able to imagine losing their family, or seeing their own neck on the rope. Shit eats at you, weighs you down. Makes it so all you feel you can do is get through the period, live to see the next day."

Something whispered to Samael to hold his tongue, and so he did, using only his eyes to plead Robin for another morsel. It was a sacred silence that lingered between them, stoic enough to fade away the evidence of their harried tryst, leaving only their relaxed bodies pressed side-to-side.

"I had a friend," Robin started slowly. "A...another friend. She was the only one of us who had served back then. She was Blue Army for two years. Got discharged and ended up in the slums working at the same place as us." Robin's eyes became distant. Samael wondered what memories he was watching. "She liked music." Robin frowned and studied the wall before correcting himself: "Naw, it wasn't just that. She liked freedom. She believed everyone deserved it, too." He met Samael's gaze with a half-smile.

"Most of us couldn't afford real freedom, entiende? But she thought we could have moments." Robin's eyes drew back to the other side of the room, somewhere past the horizon of yesterday. "And she told me one of the greatest gifts you can give people like us is that moment of freedom. Don't gotta be permanent. People just need moments where they can get all that shit off their shoulders, leave everything else at the door." He shuffled back against the timber to sit up a bit higher. "A chance to be carefree. Don't even gotta be happy, just. Carefree."

Samael stared up at Robin, at a face that was briefly decipherable. Samael could see pain and taste regret, and behind it all...something softer. Something...someone...hopeful. He smiled and reached out to place an encouraging hand on Robin's bicep. "I love that," he murmured. "She was doin' what she could, fer so many folks. Yer lucky to have known so many amazing people." Robin glanced down at him again as he shifted a leg to place it quietly against Samael's side. Samael's smile grew alongside his optimism. "Did she ever teach you music, too? Aw, man, I love--"

"The only thing she ever taught me," Robin interrupted as he gave a flat smile before shoving his prosthetic out to forcefully roll Samael over and away from him, "was to pull out so that I don't gotta have weird post-sex conversations like this."

Samael yelped as he tumbled onto his stomach with a wince, then pouted back up to Robin while trying to ignore the cruel pang. "Ow! Dang, hon, ain't no need to be mean..." He grimaced and pushed himself onto his knees while awkwardly brushing dirt and loose pebbles off his still-exposed crotch. "C'mon, we were havin' a nice li'l chat --"

"I ain't here for ya redneck counseling, and I sure as fuck don't got no plans to be a shoulder for ya to cry on, either," Robin announced bluntly before shoving himself up to a standing position and stretching his arms above his head. "Thanks for the food and the fuck, gatito. Don't need nothin' else 'til you got a job ready for me."

Samael watched him stroll across the room and then flop onto the cot with a grunt. He rubbed the back of his head and sighed before climbing to his paws and tugging his shorts up. "You ain't gotta thank me fer none'a that, Robin. I'm glad yer here with us, now, I think we're gonna be really good for each other." He ran his hands across his front one more time before turning to face the sprawled-out recruit, who only responded through a dismissive noise. "We...we should talk more."

Robin lifted his head and then gave an easy shrug. "Sure thing, Shorty. Call me up whenever you want an easy lay."

Samael frowned and clutched the back of his neck as his tail drooped somewhat. "Naw, I mean. I mean, actually talk--"

"Uh huh." Robin rolled onto his side, facing away from Samael and the tarp-covered exit as he idly scratched at one of his implants. "I'll be here, cabron. Just keep that promise that I won't get bored, you ain't gotta worry about a thing."

Samael studied his back for a moment, then gave a resolute jingle as his arms slumped to his sides. "I don't think any of us will hafta worry about that, hon," he replied in his best impression of a smooth chuckle before gathering up their empty plates and heading for the entrance. "See you soon, Robin."

He was given only silence as he bit his lip, then turned to leave Robin to himself.

Nelson really was gonna love the new guy.

Red vs Blue © Rooster Teeth. Halo © 343 Industries. Concept by Myshu, assisted by The Department of Chupapology.