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To say he's relieved would be an understatement; he slumps beneath the weight of it, watching York return the gun to his side, his own hand pulling away to tuck behind his back.

His head shakes vigorously, indignation creasing his features at York's comment. "I can teleport us both," he insists, being sure to stand firm on that decision.

He's afraid for the both of them, but he does his best to stiffen up, straightening his spine and squaring his shoulders as he reaches to grip York's wrist. "I shall follow your lead, then."

"Okay." He's not going to argue, if Kurt can teleport them both then that works. He's never been teleported before, but. It can't be worse than an actual teleporter. "Just stay close."

Holding his rifle in his free hand just in case, he starts leading them out of the compound, peering around every corner warily and then rushing to the next.

"Trackers, D?"

"No movement."

"Okay. Try to raise Tex, tell her we're not coming."

"Affirmative."

The little figure disappears and York keeps them moving, until they're outside the compound. Out in the open with no cover. The mongoose he rode here is still parked beside Tex's and there's no sign of anyone outside. Faintly, up above, he hears gunfire, and his stomach turns. He just hopes she's okay as they bolt for the ATV.

"Hold on tight."

Kurt's grateful for the fact that York doesn't seem too keen on arguing about it. He nods his head in understanding and begins to follow along after the soldier, trying to ignore the increasing pace of his heart-rate.

Each corner they come to, he whips his head around to look behind them, figuring it's the least he can do since York is the one leading them.

Golden irises flick upward to Delta when the hologram appears, the edges of his lips lifting in a smile, regardless of their not so great situation. He refocuses his attention on the task at hand once the holograph vanishes, inhaling sharply when they are out of the area with no way to protect themselves should someone come down on them.

The pounding of his pulse is almost deafening and for a moment, he can't even hear the gunshots. It's only when he hears York speaking again - to him this time - that he's jerked back to reality, both of his arms thrusting out to wrap tightly around the taller man's middle.

"O-Okay," he stammers, clenching his arms a little harder. "Okay," repeated in a far more firm tone, his eyes wincing shut then hesitantly cracking back open to make sure he doesn't end up stumbling.

They make it to the ATV without incident, something York is immensely grateful for. Hopefully everyone is busy with Tex up above and the ride back to the city will be peaceful. He climbs on and waits for Kurt to settle in behind him before kicking up dust, riding as fast as is safe. It's not a long ride, but there's high wind and no scenery for Kurt. Just desert, until the city York's been staying in rises in the distance. Only once they're within the limits does he slow down, more for the sake of pedestrians than any sense of safety. Everyone they pass is armored like York, and he's suddenly reminded of the fact that Kurt looks different -- something he'd all but forgotten during their stay on Thisavrou. They have to get hidden.

When he parks the mongoose he takes a moment to breathe, turning to the man on his back. "Come on, let's get inside."

His 'apartment' is spartan, a large single room with a mattress on the floor, a pathetic kitchenette and a bathroom off to the back. It doesn't feel like a home but once the door's closed behind them York seems to relax a bit, reaching up to pull his helmet off.

"I'm sorry about all that. It's good to see you but I left at a really bad time, in the middle of a mission, so that's what I came back to. We should be safe here. Tex will find us later." He hopes, anyway. Guilt churns in his stomach as he strips off the rest of his armor efficiently, leaving him to sink down on to the mattress in the tight black undersuit beneath. "Did anything strange happen before you stepped into the Ingress? Why did you wind up here?"

As soon as they are both settled on the vehicle, Kurt all but latches himself to York's back, arms around his middle again and his tail slinking up to loop around his waist - just in case. Normally, he might have tried to make small talk or search for things in the expanse of the desert, but this is not a pleasure ride; he closes his eyes and presses his face into the armor near York's shoulder blade, trying to calm the intense racing of his heart. The more people they pass, the more his anxiety rises, his fear of being singled out because of his appearance burning in his chest like wildfire.

He hesitantly withdraws once they've stopped, nodding his head in agreement, though he says nothing for now.

Inside the apartment, the blue boy finally slackens the tightness of his shoulders, although he can bring himself to lower his arms from around his stomach.

"Ja, okay. No, it's ... it's all right. I can understand why you reacted the way that you did." He wasn't supposed to be here, yet somehow, he'd been pulled through to an utterly new world that he knew nothing about. It was terrifying and York's earlier reaction hadn't done much to ease his fright, but he would never put blame him. "I don't know. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary before I went through ..."

"It's not alright." But as long as Kurt understands. York scrubs at his face, rakes his fingers through his hair and sighs. "I'm just glad we got out of there safe. I don't think anyone followed us, anyway."

As York looks up at Kurt, he realizes there's nothing to be done about the Ingress' mistake. He doesn't know how to reopen it, if there's even a way from this side. If anyone will come looking for Kurt who's capable of taking him back to the correct world. All York knows is that he just changed the future by running. By protecting his friend, something he needs to keep doing now.

"For now there's nothing to do about it I guess. I'm going to have to get you some armor so you fit in." Nobody's blue in his world except the aliens. Which Kurt thankfully doesn't resemble, but York doesn't trust people not to shoot first and ask questions later.

Anything he can think of to respond with seems like it would only cause an argument, which is not what he wants to do. So, instead, he stands there rather awkwardly, curling his arms a bit more and shifting from one foot to the other. "From what I could tell, it didn't seem like it."

He's still somewhat timid about doing so, but he meets York's gaze, trying to think of what he could offer the older male for reassurance. Coming up empty-handed is disappointing and not what usually happens in his case; Kurt almost always has some words of comfort or motivation and yet, he can't think of a single thing to say.

"Armor?" he queries, attention turning to York's discarded protective plating, "Like yours?" The idea intrigues him and maybe, if he knew more about how people might shoot at him, he'd probably be less thrilled about it. Even if they did get him armor, what were they going to do about his tail, though?

"Come on and sit down, try and unwind a little. We should be safe here." At least for now. No one seemed to pay them much mind riding past despite Kurt's appearance. When Kurt sits, York's hand comes up to rub his back comfortingly. They're alright.

"Yeah, armor like mine. I don't know if it'd fit you right but we'll have to try or you can't really leave the apartment." He gives a guilty grimace. "People here aren't super accepting."

York offering for him to sit is something that brings great relief; Kurt hasn't caused too much of an upset with his out of the blue (pun intended?) appearance and the hand stroking over his back in a reassuring manner seems to solidify this. He slinks over and all but flops beside the other, oomph'ing at the initial contact of his rear on the edge of the mattress. Both of them of here, unharmed and unnoticed. Everything should be fine.

"Oh, that's ..." It's not exactly okay that people aren't accepting, but this isn't his world and he shouldn't cause trouble. "... I can always stay inside, if that ends up being our only option. Hiding this--" he pauses to motion to the tail twitching across the bed, "--might prove to be somewhat difficult."

"I'd like to have an option for you, is all. Maybe you could wrap it around your waist if you're only wearing the suit for a little while? I now it wouldn't be comfortable, but... it might work." He drops his hand from Kurt's back to touch the tail, see how flexible it is. He's never done so before and is curious now.

"Understandable, ja. I could loop it around my torso for a bit. It's certainly flexible enough to stay in place, as long as I keep it compressed and such." Automatic instinct tells him to tense at the touch on his tail, golden irises dilating in surprise, his cheeks flushing indigo with embarrassment. "S-Sorry, it's, uhm ... rather sensitive."

"Oh, sorry." He pulls his hand back. "Guess there was a reason I never did that before, huh? Anyway... yeah, worth a try. The suits aren't tight exactly but they should keep things in place. I know where there's a guy who won't ask questions about getting the gloves altered, too."

"It's okay. I mean, I didn't tell you about it or anything ... Finding a comfortable position for my tail shouldn't be hard and once it's done, the suit should do the rest with keeping it held down."

His hands lift to scrub over his face, thumbs lingering at the scars on his cheeks before he lowers them to stare at his palms. "Convenient," he murmurs, trying to keep his tone from dipping, but he can't help feeling like he's messed everything up.

"...what is it?" York can tell something's upsetting Kurt, and it could be one of a million things right now to be honest. Their situation is far from ideal. "Besides being in the middle of a warzone instead of safe at home."

"Aside from that?" He curls his hands, the tips of his claws threatening the skin of his palms. "It's like I've messed everything up," Kurt murmurs, lifting his fists to press over his eyes. "Like I've derailed something important."

York just breathes for a moment. In a way, Kurt is right. Except that if he knew what he'd derailed he'd probably be all for it.

"You... changed things. You know how Tex was from my future? She told me what was going to happen and it wasn't this. Wasn't you showing up and me leaving the base. I was ready for something else, I'd prepared for it, and now things are going to be different. But that's it. And it's not your fault."

Of course he'd want to avoid York's death. What person in their right mind wouldn't?

Little Blue releases a huff of his own, lowering both hands to grip his knees and straightening as much as he can manage. York is absolutely right, though-- he can't linger on something that he never had the ability to prevent or change. "... what are your plans now?" Seems to be the only thing he can bring himself to ask.

"...I don't know," York admits, shrugging. "Contact Tex, make sure she was okay without me. Then just... back to what I was doing, I guess. Running from the Project. They're still hunting us, trying to get our AIs back. And there's the Meta." He tilts his head, voice turning careful. "Did I ever tell you about it?"

Kurt shakes his head, upper-half straightening as inquisitiveness floods his features. "No, you haven't." Nothing stopping York now, since it would seem like they have all the time in the world. (For now, that is.)

"Tell me all about it," he urges earnestly, dipping forward and flashing a halfhearted grin. It may not seem enthusiastic, but he's sincere at the very least.

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