[March 13th] [The Man From U.N.C.L.E.] Silence is Golden

[insaneladybug.livejournal.com]

Title: Silence is Golden
Day/Theme: March 13th - silence is my self-defense
Series: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (specifically, The Odd Man Affair episode)
Character/Pairing: Mr. Ecks, Mr. Wye
Rating: K/G


By Lucky_Ladybug

Wye had always been talkative. Even as a child, he was the one constantly asking questions or talking a mile a minute trying to sell products, services, or anything else he could think of. It had driven his parents, friends, and the neighbors mad. But some of them had secretly been amused at the same time.

When he had gone to work in the organization, Mr. Zed quickly decided he would be perfect as the front man, the one talking gibberish in the park while secretly revealing meeting places to all the members and other pertinent information.

That position didn’t change after he took on the training of Ecks. The boy was one of the most serious, taciturn people Wye had ever met, and Zed felt that his services were best rendered by being the deadly silent one, observing the meetings and being ready to attack at a moment’s notice if anything was out of place. It was a role Ecks filled all too well, and even while Wye rather took pleasure from watching him work, at the same time he was somewhat rattled by the silence. Even when not on assignment, Ecks typically only spoke when spoken to, and then, only the utmost minimum.

“I say, what happened to you, boy?” Wye finally exclaimed one evening when they were sharing a quiet meal. “You said more than this when I saw you with that throat-tearing beast!”

Ecks just shrugged. “I was younger then. And I wasn’t on assignment. I’m an agent now. I’m trained to be coldly efficient. It doesn’t require speech most of the time.”

“Maybe not, but it sure makes the off-time more pleasant,” Wye declared. “I feel like I’m eating with a statue!”

“Statues don’t eat.”

“And they don’t talk, neither.”

The silence returned, only broken by the scraping of forks and knives on the china. Wye wasn’t expecting anything more to be said and was stunned when Ecks suddenly spoke.

“I don’t like talking. And I like it even less since a lot of the times when I try, somebody manages to twist the meaning all up. I can be speaking perfectly plainly and it still happens. It’s a waste of breath to even bother.”

Wye frowned a bit. “Have I ever mixed up what you were meaning?”

“No,” Ecks admitted. “Not much, anyway. We’re different, you and I, yet you at least understand simple English. That’s more than I can say for a lot of people.”

Wye had to smirk. “You’ve got a point there.” He sobered. “But if I haven’t caused you any frustration, won’t you at least consider talking to me? I get awkward in the silence. Makes me feel like I must’ve done something wrong. And it’s just downright boring!”

Ecks raised an eyebrow, but finally nodded. It almost looked like a trace of a smirk on his features as he turned his attention back to his plate. “I’ll try to talk more to you,” he agreed. “I wouldn’t mind that much. I don’t think.”

“I hope not,” Wye grunted. “If we’re going to stay partners, we have to get along well. And talking’s a big part of that.”

Ecks shrugged but conceded to that truth.
****
Wye looked to Ecks with fondness as the boy dozed in the taxicab. Well, he wasn’t really a boy any more, but Wye still thought of him that way. Maybe because he regretted that Ecks had grown up before his time and Wye still saw hints of the kid he had once been.

Ecks still didn’t like to speak that much, and often didn’t with outsiders. Silence, he had told Wye, was a form of self-defense. He had grown up mostly alone and had learned to prefer being quiet, since talking rarely helped anything, from his point of view, and often made things worse. He was sick of being misunderstood by his words and preferred to be misunderstood by his silence. At least silence was less likely to cause pointless, annoying arguments, even if it made him look unsociable and unfriendly—both of which were largely true.

But he really had blossomed and changed around Wye, slowly opening up over the years until he felt quite comfortable carrying on long conversations with the older man. That had extended to his reports to Mr. Zed, which he had started to deliver with personality and not flat matter-of-factness.

Zed had definitely noticed the change. “You’ve been good for that boy, Wye,” he had said once. “He was always so serious, so withdrawn. Acted like he never did anything except for duty. You’ve taught him how to have a little fun with his life.”

“He’s not the only one who changed,” Wye had replied.

“Yes,” Zed had mused, “I’ve seen changes in you as well. You really love that boy. That’s all well and fine. But just remember that everyone is expendable. Hopefully the time will never come, but if it does, the mission comes first and not Ecks.”

It had been a harsh, cold reminder of the situation they were in. But it wasn’t unique to their organization; many agencies on the other side, such as U.N.C.L.E., had similar policies. They had to, really. It just wasn’t practical otherwise. Nevertheless, there were people on both sides who didn’t agree with those policies and balked when the time came to choose.

Wye was one of them. He had always carried out his orders, even when those orders were to betray the organization, until Ecks had been so gravely wounded. Then, nothing had mattered except Ecks. He had betrayed Zed as well to keep Ecks alive and safe.

Now they were in the United States, trying to figure out how to start their lives over. It was a daunting prospect, and right now neither of them knew exactly how they were going to do it, but they were going to try their best.

The fact that they were together was an excellent start.

Ecks stirred as the cab stopped. “We’re here?” he mumbled, still clearly half-asleep.

Wye regarded him in amusement. “That’s right. We’ll try this motel for the night and see what we can figure out tomorrow.” He paid the driver and got out, waiting for Ecks to stumble over before heading towards the main office.

Ecks eyed the place warily. “It’s strange to be here now, after the lives we knew in England.”

“I know it is.” Wye sighed. “I can’t say I’m terribly chuffed about it, but we’ll make do. It’s better than pushin’ up daisies.”

Ecks smirked. “Almost anything’s better than that.” He reached over, patting Wye on the shoulders before running out ahead to the door.

Wye watched him in surprise, but then smiled as he followed.

Ecks really had opened up, especially around him.

And that was the main thing that mattered to Wye.