Sweet Caroline

Sweet Carolina

by Kaiyo no Hime

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Halo or the Red vs Blue franchise.


They were both yelling, shouting information as fast as her mind could handle, faster than she could comprehend. She hesitated, taking another hit while she tried to sort out her mind, but still the data came pouring in. To the left, a second to late while the other shouted a step north by north west.

If only they would both agree, if only they would both get along. But neither would give up the fight, and both fought for superiority.

And both left her confused and defenseless in battle, more of a hinderance than a help. But she could not ignore them, could not ignore the battle for dominance that was going on inside her own mind, against her own mind, even as the bullets rained down around her. This was going to get her killed; sooner, rather than later.

"Stop," she groaned, dodging behind cover in desperation.

Neither voice acknowledged her, and still they continued to shout.

"Carolina, respond," a third voice joined the cacophony of sound.

From the outside instead of in, a blessed foreign sound that was different than her raging insanity.

"York," she mumbled, her voice trembling as she tried to find her own words; trying to find her own voice.

"York!" she pleaded, screaming against the din.

Shadows swept across her vision, the AI were fighting inside her own mind once again. The battle raged through all the universe, tearing at her as the bullets began to slice against her armor once more. Her cover was blown, but she could not find the strength to move.

In truth, she could not find the will to. She hoped that one of them would find a weak spot and end her misery; kill her in her bloody insanity.

"Hold on Carolina, I'm coming," York shouted, and she watched his form dart out from under cover.

He would get himself killed trying to save her. She could already see it, the possible outcomes playing across her vision, blurring her grasp on reality once again. He could not dodge all of the bullets, his form was too obvious a target. It was impossible to drag her prone body to a safe position.

There was only one way for him to live: for her to die there, with full certainty, and stop him in his vain pursuit.

"I'm sorry York," she whispered, her voice drifting between the lazy ones and zeroes that had occupied her waking mind as of late.

"Carolina, what are you doing," he roared, "Put down the gun!"

She didn't want him to die too. One of them should live, should continue. Delta would take care of him. All it would take was a single shot, there was a weak spot in the armor under the chin, and the bullet would bounce around in her helmet and turn her head into a mass of swiss cheese.

"Bye."


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