This Doesn't Mean We're Friends Does It?

The car turned smoothly into one of the parking spaces lining the front of the building. Fargo squinted through the windshield, trying to make out the apartment numbers in the glare from the headlights. Spotting his target, he shut off the engine and climbed out.

Hand raised to knock on the door, he hesitated. Maybe this was a bad idea. It was almost three in the morning. Surely Zane would be sound asleep by now. And he didn't have a good explanation for waking the man in the middle of the night; or for coming here at all, really.

Fargo had been feeling unsettled since the whole space launch incident. Probably because the full reality of what happened hadn't set in until they were on the ground. They'd almost died in that capsule. Between the repeated oxygen leaks, almost hitting the space station, and the broken FTL drive, there were so many times when their chances of survival dropped from slim to nonexistent. And yet they'd somehow made it back safely.

Fargo wasn't surprised by the fact that he'd had a few sleepless nights since their return. It was to be expected, he supposed.

No, the reason he was currently standing in the chilly night air outside one of the cheap GD-provided apartment blocks was something else entirely.

Summoning up his courage, Fargo raised his hand again and knocked. If this ended up being a waste of time, he'd at least be able to sleep better knowing his worries had been pointless.

The door swung open a minute later, revealing a disheveled Zane. With the sweatpants and messied hair, Fargo feared he really had woken him up. But those concerns were laid to rest with one look at the man's bloodshot eyes. Zane obviously hadn't been getting any more sleep than Fargo.

"Fargo," Zane said, staring at him in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Which was an excellent question. Too bad he really didn't know the answer.

"Uh, do you mind if I come inside for a minute?"

Still eyeing him like he was some sort of hallucination, Zane stepped aside and let him into the tiny apartment.

Fargo glanced around the main room as he entered, noting the absence of any personal touches. Besides the furniture and some half assembled electronics scattered about, there wasn't a whole lot here. The door to the bedroom was closed, but he had a feeling the same was true of that room as well. Zane certainly hadn't put any effort into making this place feel like home.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Zane asked, grabbing a soda from the fridge.

Fargo cleared his throat. "No thanks." He sat down on the couch, feeling increasingly more awkward as the other man settled onto the opposite end of the couch. "Sorry if I woke you."

"Wasn't sleeping anyway," Zane said with a shrug.

He'd already guessed that. "Yeah. Haven't been sleeping too well lately, either."

"Since the whole..."

"Yeah."

Fargo idly wondered if you could die from awkwardness overload. Because they must be nearing that point. Why had he thought this would be a good idea?

Taking a breath, he decided to get straight to the point. It wasn't as if this situation could get any more uncomfortable.

"So, I've been thinking about the launch thing," he blurted out before he could back down. The other man arched an eyebrow but didn't interrupt, so Fargo took that as his opening. "You really lost it up there."

He winced. That certainly could have been worded better.

On the other end of the couch, Zane shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah," he admitted. "Not exactly my best moment."

"Sorry. I didn't mean—"

"No, I get it. I really screwed up."

And that hadn't been his point at all. Although, given the interactions between Zane and the other Fargo, he could see why that had been the immediate assumption.

"Well, I wouldn't say completely screwed up. You did fix the oxygen leaks," Fargo offered. "And if you hadn't repaired the FTL drive, we wouldn't have made it back."

"Yeah, but you were the one who got the drive working in the first place. And stopped us from colliding with the station. You saved our necks while I panicked." He paused, staring at his soda can as he muttered out the last statement, "I guess I don't do too well when faced with certain death."

"That's what I don't get. We've faced certain death hundreds of times, and I've never seen you freak out about it. I mean, you helped detonate a miniature sun without any hesitation. It doesn't get crazier than that."

Zane stared at him as if he'd sprouted a second head.

Oops.

"I'm guessing that didn't happen in this timeline?"

"No." Zane shook his head, still looking stunned by that bit of information. "Definitely not."

"Well..." Fargo scrambled to recover the point of the conversation. "Regardless, you've gone up against impossible odds to help save the town so many times I've lost count."

"Fargo, I think you're forgetting I'm just the IT guy. I don't work on the bigger projects, let alone helping with the important crises when they come up."

He actually had forgotten. And the reminder stung more than he was willing to admit.

When they'd first arrived here, Fargo had been shocked to find that his counterpart made a point of assigning Zane to mundane research projects that were far below his level of expertise. It didn't take long to figure out why this version of Zane wasn't shown the same amount of trust as he was in the other timeline. But security concerns were not the reason Fargo continued sidelining him. Even though his romantic attraction to Jo had faded a while ago, Fargo still considered her a good friend. Keeping Zane from the science he loved so much was a petty attempt at revenge and he wasn't proud of it.

"Oh. Sorry."

Zane shrugged. "Apparently just another way in which the other version of me was better," he said, a hint of bitterness seeping into his tone. Sighing, he added, "To be honest, I'm still trying to wrap my head around this altered timeline thing. I know Eureka can get pretty crazy, but this... it's huge even for here."

That was certainly an understatement. It was terrifying to think they lived in a town where a child could decide to not only alter the course of history, but also personally mess with all their lives. Now that he thought about it, Fargo had to admit that Zane probably got the worst deal out of all of them. He'd lost his dream job, his friends, the love of his life, and the trust and respect of the entire town.

"But it was still you, right?" Fargo pointed out. "I mean, alternate universe or not, that was still you. Carter said he believes people are still who they are at their core, regardless of timeline switches. And from what I've seen of this new reality, I agree with him."

Taking another sip from his soda, Zane carefully avoided looking at him. "So, what's your point, Director?"

Fargo winced at the title. Zane was putting a professional distance between them. Which must mean he was hitting close to the truth.

"My point is that I don't think it was us dying in a space capsule that hit you so bad up there," he pressed. "It had to have been something else that triggered your initial panic."

The room lapsed into silence, Zane staring at the far wall with an intensity that could melt glass. Fargo sat still as he waited for any kind of response. He didn't expect much of one. The two weren't close even in the original timeline; in this reality, they were barely on speaking terms before being launched into space together.

Part of Fargo wondered why he'd come here in the first place. This wasn't any of his business. But, the few times they'd bumped into each other since their return a few days ago, Fargo couldn't help noticing the dark circles under Zane's eyes, or the more subdued behavior. Whatever had happened was obviously still not sitting well with him.

From what he could tell, Zane didn't have any friends to turn to, and he didn't seem like the sort of person who would willingly see a therapist. So Fargo's conscience had poked him into action. At three o'clock in the morning. Admittedly, his conscience had lousy timing.

"I... don't do so well in small spaces," Zane finally said, startling Fargo out of his musings. "Closed spaces. They kinda mess with my head."

"You have claustrophobia?"

"Not exactly." Zane rubbed at the back of his neck, avoiding Fargo's eyes. "It's not small places themselves that bother me. If you put that capsule on earth, I'd be fine with it; I'd know how to get myself out. It's more the feeling of being trapped in tight places. Especially with other people."

Fargo watched him for a moment, processing that information. There was definitely part of the story Zane wasn't saying, and he had a feeling he didn't want to know what it was. Still, he started this, so it was his responsibility to see it through.

After a minute, Zane finally continued, "Ever since being in prison, I just can't stand that feeling of being trapped. Knowing that I can't get out if things go bad."

Another uncomfortable silence descended as Fargo struggled for a proper response. He hadn't expected Zane to be this open with him — and he had a feeling it was at least partly caused by the fact that it was three AM and the poor guy was severely sleep deprived. This was a big show of trust from someone as closed off as Zane usually was, and Fargo didn't want to screw it up.

"I hadn't really considered that before," he admitted, wanting to be honest in return. "I mean, I checked your file after we got here and saw that you were in prison, but I never stopped to think about what that meant."

It made him sound like such a jerk, now that he said it out loud. But it was the truth. Having spent almost his entire life in Eureka, it was often difficult for him to understand the harsher realities of the outside world.

"I'm guessing my other self didn't get arrested?"

"He got arrested. But Dr Blake stepped in and negotiated a deal where you– uh, he would be paroled in Eureka. Basically the same deal you have here; work for GD and stay within city limits in return for no jail cell."

"Except my deal came about a year too late. You — the other you — did show up right after the feds picked me up, and we sat down for an interview. It didn't go well."

Fargo grimaced and sunk farther into the couch. The last thing he needed was another black mark on his record. Despite his earlier words to Zane, he preferred to think that he wasn't as bad as his other-timeline counterpart. Undoing the damage that egotistical tyrant had done to his reputation was a constant uphill struggle.

"I'm... sorry." It sounded weak even to his own ears. It was all he had to offer.

Zane shrugged, finally relaxing against the cushions, the previous tension bleeding out. "Eh, it wasn't you. Not this you." He paused and shook his head with a laugh. "Man, that's going to take some getting used to."

"No kidding."

"Anyway, the offer was extended a second time a year later and I ended up here. But that federal pen was a far cry from Carter's homey little cell. Sometimes I wonder if things might have gone differently, if I'd come here first instead. Guess that question's been answered now."

The guilt that had been gnawing at him earlier was now suffocating. Fargo's shoulders twitched, as if he could shake off the feeling of it pressing down on him.

At the very least, he promised himself he'd submit a work transfer for Zane in the morning. Let him work on real science research for a while instead of the grunt work he'd been repeatedly assigned. He certainly had the qualifications to help with the bigger projects.

"Hey, Fargo," Zane said, tone softer than usual. "I just... thanks. For getting us out of that mess."

Fargo shook his head. "You did that. I shut down and was ready to give up."

"Yeah, but you kept your head when it counted." Zane looked at him for the first time since this conversation began, focusing a sincere smile at him. "You know, I wasn't your biggest fan before; I thought you only had your position because of sucking up to Mansfield. But you really came through today. You did a good job."

Fargo smiled, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through him. He was so used to being the town screw up. It was nice to feel acknowledged for his talents instead of his failures. Maybe that was all Zane needed, too.

"Thanks. You did great up there, too. You know, after you stopped freaking out and everything."

Zane laughed. "You're not going to let that go are you?"

"Probably not," Fargo said, a laugh of his own slipping out.

A glance at his watch indicated that it was probably time to get home. But he found himself oddly reluctant to leave. For one thing, it didn't feel as if he'd helped all that much; Zane's problem was too far outside his field of knowledge. That wasn't the only reason he hesitated to go back to his empty house, though.

The truth was, he'd missed this. In the new timeline, he and Vincent weren't as close as they'd been before. And apparently other-Fargo had alienated all his other friends shortly after getting the promotion. The saying 'it's lonely at the top' was certainly proving to be true.

He wouldn't consider Zane a friend — in either version of reality — but it was a relief to hang out with someone who treated him as an equal instead of the boss.

"Well, I guess I should get out of here," Fargo said, forcing himself to stand. "Let you get back to sleep. Sorry for interrupting your night."

Zane glanced up at him, an unreadable expression on his face. "Nah, don't worry about it. Haven't been sleeping too much lately anyway. The whole alternate universe bombshell has been a lot to process."

"Yeah, I get that. Not to mention almost asphyxiating in space a few days ago. Had a few rough nights myself."

"Ah. Yeah, I guess you're probably anxious to get back to bed then."

A huff of amusement escaped as Fargo fished his keys from his pocket. "Not likely. I'll probably end up marathoning some Star Trek or something."

"Original series or next gen?"

"Actually, I was thinking Enterprise."

"Really?" Zane quirked a half smile, surprise lighting his eyes. "I thought it was supposed to be taboo to admit to watching that one. Even though Archer basically invented the wheel when it came to alien diplomacy."

"Exactly!" Fargo shot back, bouncing on his toes as his enthusiasm ramped up. "And that Xindi War story arc was peak Trek storytelling."

Zane hesitated a moment before forcing out, "You know, if you're looking for something to occupy you, I might have an idea."

"Oh?"

Reaching to the coffee table, Zane picked up a video game case and passed it over. "I've been working through the early levels the last few nights. Probably almost at the first boss level now."

Fargo's eyes lit up as he gripped the case in his hands. "Dude! I've been wanting to play this forever. I hear the control mechanics are so good."

"Eh." Zane shrugged. "They're not bad. Certainly better than the first installment." He shot a glance at the TV screen and cleared his throat. "If you want to..."

He didn't need to wait for the rest of that invitation. "Of course! Please tell me you have a second controller."

"Yeah, I bought a new one last month. You can use the spare."

Fargo plopped back onto the couch while Zane got the system booted up. A contented feeling settled over him, easing the storm that had been brewing inside the last several days. Head of GD or not, he was still a geek at heart, and proud of it. This was his comfort zone, and he'd been forced out of it for too long now.

"Okay," Zane said, sitting down and passing the spare controller to him, "I should warn you this probably isn't the right game to relax to if you're already keyed up. It gets pretty intense."

"Are you kidding?" Fargo scoffed. "I used to have horror movie marathons to unwind after a long week. And nothing eases the mind like a mental challenge. This is exactly what I need right now."

"Huh." Zane shot him a curious glance before focusing on the game's opening menu. "I'm the same way. There's something about an intense challenge like this that just—"

"—pushes your own troubles right out of your head," Fargo finished. That was something he understood all too well.

He filed that knowledge away in his mind for future reference. Now that Zane wasn't going to be delegated to computer maintenance, it was likely he'd be in many more intense situations as they came up. At least now he had a better understanding of how to keep Zane focused on task should the problem occur again. (It mildly surprised Fargo how easily he slipped into that leadership mindset now; considering how difficult the transition had been at first.)

Zane took a sip from his drink and set the can aside. "You ready to start?"

Fargo grinned and tightened his hold on the controller, more than ready to take his mind off GD's problems for a few hours. "Ready."

He still wasn't entirely sure where he stood with Zane. No longer enemies, but not quite friends. He had a feeling, though, that their experience on the space shuttle had opened a door — one which he was surprisingly willing to explore. This timeline change had forced them both into roles that left them isolated and on uncertain footing. Perhaps tonight could be the first step away from that isolation.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to contact the author, please visit my tumblr or dreamwidth.

This Doesn't Mean We're Friends Now, Does It?