Work Text:
20/11/01
Dylan was bored. He wasn't due to relieve Beka for another hour and, for once, there wasn't anything he had to do. He could have worked on the hideous amount of paperwork a High Guard ship accumulated, but being the only High Guard ship around made him feel less than motivated. So, he was amusing himself by trying to help Harper in one of his many repair jobs. Dylan was currently standing outside an access tunnel, handing Harper tools as he asked for them. Some of the tools he knew, but others he had to ask Harper for a description.
Between the tool hand-offs, he was asking questions.
"How old are you, Harper?"
"Umm, why don't you just check the personnel files?" Harper's voice was a little irritated. He had already burned one of his fingers with the spot welder and he had at least 2 more hours of repairs to make before he would let himself finally take a break and get some sleep. And, while Dylan was making himself helpful, he was getting a little annoying with the questions.
"They've been purged. Well, yours, anyway," Dylan replied, stepping back and smiling as Harper somersaulted out of the tube. Harper landed safely, to Dylan's pleasure, and quickly moved to a nearby access panel. Dylan was reaching for a lever to use on it when Harper thumped the panel on one corner and caught it as the cover fell away. Dylan just stood there for a minute, shocked, then snapped his mouth closed. He had spent hours once trying to get one of those open. And he was the Captain. He suddenly realized Harper was talking.
"Oh yeah, almost forgot about that," Harper said, smiling fondly in remembrance.
Dylan waited patiently, then when Harper's attention seemed to be solely on the blinking chips in the panel, had to speak.
"So, how old are you?" He repeated.
Harper started, glancing at Dylan almost as if he had forgotten he was there.
"Don't know for sure."
"What?" Dylan asked, shocked again. He was still too used to the Commonwealth, where they had records on just about everything in its domain. "You don't know how old you are?"
"Nope."
"Why not?"
Harper shrugged, very carefully intent on the circuit panel. "By the time I was old enough to wonder, all the people who knew for sure were dead. Or just gone."
Dylan was having trouble. "But, your mother...." He trailed off and looked intently at Harper's face. Harper had gone a little pale, his face blank and closed-off. "I'm sorry, Harper."
Harper shrugged again, still not looking at Dylan. He seemed to be struggling to regain an indifferent expression.
"It's okay, no big deal."
"But you told Beka that 'your family' had to decide about your cousins."
"Yeah, they did." Harper sighed and finally looked at Dylan, his eyes dark and serious. "But Dylan, on Earth, your family isn't just comprised of your blood relatives. On Earth, family is a huge word. It's blood kin, allies, friends, lovers, trading partners; anyone can be your family. You could be family for a day, or family for life." Harper jerked his chin to indicate Dylan. "And now you're my family. Beka, Trance, Rommie, fuck, even Tyr and Rev are my fucking family now. That's the way it works." Harper looked at Dylan intently, as if checking to see if he got it.
Dylan took a couple of steps closer to Harper, a serious, questioning look on his face. "You said that you can be family for a day or forever?"
"Yeah." Harper shot a slightly questioning look Dylan's way.
"You know that we aren't just family for a day, right? You know that."
Harper closed his eyes, a hint of a smile playing across his lips, and bowed his head in assent.
"I know," he whispered.
Dylan smile was a little bitter, but he placed gentle hands on Harper's shoulders and gave him a little shake.
"Good."