Author's Note:

This is the first fic I've written in a while now!

I'm still not entirely sure what it is.

Disclaimers: RWBY belongs to Rooster Teeth, Lancer belongs to Type/Moon, the Sisters belong to... the guy who does A Certain Magical Index, and Code Geass belongs to the people who made it. I'm not sure who they are, but it belongs to them.

Also, I'd like to thank (drumroll) ElfCollaborator, who was kind enough to give me permission to use Reactsverse!Adam Taurus.

Now, on with the show!

Our Heroes, Ladies and Gentlemen

May God Have Mercy

The scenery was the same as any desert road at sunset. Red, red, and a little more red as far as the eye could see, except for the occasional cactus, which appeared black in the fading light. Still, in its way, it was majestic and awe-inspiring in its vastness. Much unlike the cloud of dust that, on second inspection, turned out to be an old, beaten-down RV that was plowing its way down the desert road. It trembled and shook, given the impression that it would collapse at a moment's notice if it stopped for a split second (which was a distinct possibility). But the readers aren't interested in the cringe-inducing ragged red-and-white exterior, or the mysterious structure someone had built on the top which seemed to be a radar tower or something of a similar function. No, they are interested in what was going on INSIDE, and the story that may or may not be happening. Thus, the author will cease his attempts to be poetic/descriptive and knuckle down and tell them.

Actually, nothing much was going on inside.

Seriously.

It was the same set up that somehow seemed to form in the evenings (or at least, the evenings when they weren't being chased by something). Lancer drove, with Adam sitting stiffly in the passenger seat with his arms akimbo, Milly sitting at the odd little table-booth thing, not quite dozing off, and Misaka had already been tucked into bed, but was badly feigning sleep just in case something out of the ordinary happened.

Well, Misaka had made the point that her full title was Misaka 10033, but that was usually left out for convenience' sake.

Lancer, atypically, began to droop. Adam looked over at him, and slapped him on the back of the head.

Lancer's head whipped up, and he turned to glare at Adam. "What was that about?" he shouted. Misaka fell out of the loft in surprise and lay on the floor whimpering slightly. Milly, snapped into full wakefulness, leapt up to check on her.

"You can't fall asleep on the road, moron," Adam growled.

"I'm not falling asleep!"

"I'm not risking an accident!"

"What's to have an accident with? THERE'S NOTHING FOR MILES!"

"'Perhaps we should switch drivers,' Misaka suggests as she regains her breath," Misaka coughed. Milly lifted her into a sitting position. Lancer strained his neck to look over his shoulder.

"Look kiddo, no way am I handing this wheel to Grumpy over there! Not when it's the only thing I got to my name other than my spear! Understand?"

"EYES ON THE ROAD!" Adam roared.

"THERE'S NOTHING ON THE ROAD!"

The group fell into an annoyed silence. Finally, Milly broke it.

"You know," she said, "I've been wondering something, Lancer."

"Shoot," the Servant of the Spear replied through gritted teeth.

"Why is this the only thing to your name? Don't you have, like, a home or something?"

"Meteor fell on it," Lancer replied. Everyone stared at him. "Seriously. Big space rock out of nowhere. Boom."

"Family?" Milly attempted.

"I had a son. I accidentally killed him." Adam began to lean away from the Servant.

"Ah… a pet?" Milly asked awkwardly.

Lancer stiffened. "That's something I swore never to speak of ever again." He shuddered. "So many lobsters…"

Milly blinked. "Okay?"

"'Actually, random bad luck is why I ended up leaving home too,' says Misaka, reminiscing," Misaka... well, remincisced.

"Oh, really? How's that?" Milly asked, pulling out a small notebook and a pen out of her pocket. Adam glared back at her, and she hesitantly put them away.

"'Well, it was kind of an accident,' Misaka recalls…"

/10032/ What do you mean, you put her on the wrong train? Misaka asks, confused.

/11035/ I'm sorry! I had the wrong time! Misaka blubbers inelegantly.

/Last Order/ 19090, where does that train go to? asks Misaka as Misaka is worried.

/19090/ According to this web page… Vacuo, Misaka reports.

/Last Order/ That's on the other side of the continent, Misaka says as Misaka has an unfortunate realization.

/10033/ How do I get home? Misaka asks, worried.

/15011/ Maybe you could hitchhike, Misaka suggests, offering a solution.

/10032/ Shall I ask Onee-sama? Misaka suggests hopefully.

/16061/ What would Onee-sama do about this? Misaka ponders.

…

/19090/ SHE'S GOING TO KILL US! Misaka laments her decreased lifespan.

"Something wrong?" Misaka Mikoto asked, giving her 'younger sister' a concerned look. This was the first time that she'd ever seen the girl actually make an expression, and the fact that it was one of terror was slightly worrying.

"'No, nothing,' says Misaka, trying to figure out a way to break the bad news." Misaka 10032 replied.

"Oh dear," Mikoto groaned, facepalming.

"… I see." Milly said. She grinned at Adam. "While we're on the subject, what about you, Adam? How come YOU are traveling with this merry band? Wouldn't you rather be striking angsty poses on top of skyscrapers?" Adam spent a moment trying to figure out what she meant, before deciding that he didn't care.

"I don't see any reason to tell you, Ashford." he replied.

"'I'm a little curious myself' says Misaka, her interest roused," Misaka said.

"Yeah, spill dude!" Lancer grinned.

"No," growled Adam, reaching down between the seats to grab Wilt and Blush. "It's none of your business."

"'Is it because of Siegmund Schnee?' asks Misaka, noting a possibility." Misaka asked.

Adam paused at that. "… Partially, I guess," he said.

Now that he thought of it, Siegmund Schnee probably did have something to do with it. Adam had, after all, collaborated with one of the most unpopular people on the planet, blackmailed into it or not, and something like that tends to make one rather unpopular. He had packed his bags the day Siegmund had been defeated, and jumped aboard the first transport that he had found—one that had unfortunately turned out to be Lancer's RV. There were also a few emotional, heartrending details in there, but he tried to avoid thinking of them as best possible.

"Oh right, you did…" Milly trailed off. "Why are you smiling like that, Lancer?"

"It's your turn," Lancer smiled menacingly. "So what's your story? Why are you here?"

Milly, aware of Misaka giving her an expecting look, smiled at her and tried to push down the memory of the two girls who were hot for the same guy.

Shirley lay unconscious on the floor. Kallen, red-faced, was trying to still trying to revive her. Standing imperiously, in front of Milly was Lelouch, all the fury of the ages in his eyes. Milly backed away, bumped up against the wall, cast around for an escape route, realized there was none. Now she wished she had never made that bet with Yang Xiao Long…

"Don't you realize, Milly…" the prince seethed, "The only ones who should ship… ARE THOSE WILLING TO BE SHIPPED!"

"Made a bet," Milly replied smoothly, smiling as brilliantly as possible and reflecting that it had, in fact, been Cornelia who'd thrown the first punch.

"There's more to it than that," Lancer smirked. "You seemed very… interested in getting the heck out of Dodge."

"Well, you know about bets, and how they go sour," Milly said, trying to smile even more brilliantly and instead hurting her facial muscles.

"Come on Ashford, details," Lancer said encouragingly. "Someone as loaded as you doesn't just make a run from a bad bet, they pay people to make the bad bet go away. You? You probably got in a lot more trouble that a bet." He turned to look over his shoulder. "Well? What's the story?"

"I made a bet with a friend, someone found out that I didn't want to find out, and everything went downhill from there," Milly replied, attempting to make the question go away through the classic strategy of being overly vague.

"Where is Dodge, anyway?" asked Adam. Milly silently celebrated the change in subject, and Lancer gave his fellow male an odd look.

"Huh?"

"Thinking out loud, human," Adam replied.

"Technically speaking, I'm a Heroic Spirit," Lancer pointed out.

"Technically speaking, I don't care," Adam riposted.

"'I fail to see how this relates to—'"

"Technically speaking, you really should," Lancer growled, "I could own you if I wanted."

"… Misaka attempts, growing irritated at—"

"Technically speaking, I'd like to see you try," Adam challenged.

"Technically speaking, I'll do more than try!" Lancer boasted.

"CACTUS!" Milly shouted. Lancer and Adam, who had been glaring at each other half a minute before, whipped around to see that they were, in fact, about to drive through a number of ten-foot tall Saguaro Cactus. Lancer slammed on the brakes, and the RV plowed through three of the tall green plants before sliding to a halt.

"What are cacti doing in the middle of the road?" Lancer asked. Adam cranked the window down, and craned his neck out of the window.

"We're not on the road, Moron," he growled.

Lancer gave him a confused look. "How are we not on the road?" he asked.

"Maybe if you had been WATCHING THE ROAD, you'd KNOW!" Adam shouted. Lancer scowled, and switched the RV into reverse.

"'I'm going to bed now,' Misaka says, trying to avoid the next inevitable shouting match," Misaka announced, climbing into the loft.

"Bed sounds nice," Milly agreed.

Author's Note: Well? What did you think? Any criticisms you have? Glaring problems you noticed? Please tell me what you think and review.