Connie never believed in angels.
Until the day she became one.
The last thing she remembered was the pain from the tomahawk that Tex threw at her and giving the data file to her love. And now she finds herself watching her boyfriend bury her corpse in the ground of probably the last Insurrection base he has.
Once the dirt was flattened, he says a few words, words of how they met and how he loves her. Connie reached out to touch his shoulder only for her hand to past though him. Tears ran down her face as the man she loves shed his own tears. She tried again and again to hold on to him, only to collapse to her knees when he left a rose on her grave and went back to the base.
"Hello Connie," the brunette looked up and wiped her eyes in disbelief at the voice. Standing in front of her was a blond woman staring at the grave. The blond turned to her and helped Connie stand and smiled at the smaller woman. "It's nice to finally meet you."
Connie was about to call the women Tex but she knew otherwise, "Allison? You're the real Allison aren't you?"
The blond smirked, "Honestly, I really glad you're the one to find out the truth, you have this kind of spunk I like."
"Thanks," Connie said, a little breathless, still a little faltered that this conversation was happening, "Have you been watching us, the Freelancers, the Director?"
Allison nodded, "I didn't feel right leaving Leonard and looked where it took him."
"He made your shadow - Tex."
Surprising Connie, Allison laughed, "I always knew he was devoted to me, that lovesick fool." Her smile turned grim, "I just didn't know he would go this far to see me again."
The shorter woman looked at her grave, "So what are we, ghosts?"
"No, we're angels," Connie stared in awe as wings shimmered at Allison's back. Allison placed her hand at Connie's back, making her own wings appear.
"But I can't possibly be an angel," Connie said, denying the wings yet brushing her hand across the soft feathers, "After everything I did in Project Freelancer, how can I be an angel?"
Allison took Connie's chin in her palm, tilting the brunette's head up and looked straight in her eyes, "It doesn't matter how, it only matter on what you do. It's your choice if you're ready to go to heaven."
"Is that why you're still here?"
"I'm waiting for Leonard to have closure, I know him, and I know that's how Project Freelancer will end." Allison rested her hands on Connie's shoulders, "Now, why do you think you're still here?"
Connie looked back to her grave then to the direction where her boyfriend walked away, "I want to make sure he's alright. I want to see all my friends are alright," she look back to Allison, "But I can tell it'll go up in flames."
"Then wait till the flames are a fireplace of a loving home."
Butch Flowers wasn't really sure what was going on.
Alpha- no he wasn't supposed to call him that- Church came up to him about him having a heart attacked and as a good captain, he trusted his team and let the soldier inject medicine in him, only to find out he was allergic to it.
So here he is, watching Tucker telling Church how he looked good in aqua-sea form-teal-whatever color armor. But Flowers didn't mind, he agreed that the armor suited Tucker and that Church could be a good leader.
Flowers was happy that he had such a fine team.
Plus he was really excited at the wings he got and began flying though the sky.
York was really confused.
He remembered Wyoming shooting him and Delta telling Tex that he wouldn't make it.
What he didn't remember was having wings.
"Holy fuck, am I an angel?" York craned his head to look at his new wings, poking at it. "This is really weird but not the strangest thing I've been through." He flapped his wings, "Okay, maybe it is the strangest."
The brunette looked around at the empty building of the island and spotted his lighter. He knelt down to grab it only for his hand to ghost through it. Frowning, York sighed and got up and glanced at his corpse.
"Maybe someone will bury me."
Then he heard a rumble of an engine shutting down and footsteps. York stared at as an agent approached him and kneeled to his body.
"Wash?" York instantly tried to grab Wash but was once again reminded that he wasn't alive. But to his relief, Delta was. He listened into Wash and Delta's conversation but shock was on his face when Wash started a bomb on his armor. "Wash, what did Project Freelancer do to you?" Despite the armor, York naïve, innocent friend was no longer there, York wasn't even there when Wash woke up. All he knew was that the younger Freelancer basically lost it during the implantation.
And then, everything happened too fast, Wyoming was shooting at Wash and he was returning fire. York watched helplessly as the two realized the bomb was about to blow and witness Wash jumping off the building to the beach as Wyoming slipped away.
The explosion didn't hurt him but it made York's wings react, flapping up to the air. In the sky, York saw Wash start up his warthog and followed him, catching Wash saying something about a Recover Beacon.
North couldn't believe his eyes.
In front of him was two bodies – his own and South's. He was kneeling over South's body about to shake her awake, only for her to bolt up screaming.
South gripped her helmet, screaming like she couldn't stop. North tried to stop her panic attack but yelling her name was useless. He felt even more useless when he couldn't even hug her to comfort her.
He was dead.
He barely registered Wash running up to South, snapping her out of her screams and finally catching her breath. The two living agents remained silent as they glanced at North's body, hanging over the ledge.
That's when a familiar voice broke the silence. "North!"
Wash and South were unaffected by York's entrance, him flying down and struggling to land. "Man, how do birds fly? This is feels more complicated then what happened with Georgia."
"York!" The blond immediately hugged the one eyed man, "Where the hell have you been! And why do you have wings?"
The brunette returned the hug, "Okay, long story short, I laid low in the shrubs, helped Tex out with a mission, got shot by Wyoming of all people, and now, I'm an angel and you're an angel too." North let go of his friend and turned his neck to see a pair of wings. "Although it's no surprise you're an angel, everybody loves you."
The shock in North face shifted into sadness as he glanced at South, "Not everybody loves me that much."
Looking between the twins, York connected the dots, disbelief and horror in his eyes.
During York's silence, Wash and South were already explaining their situation and Wash left to call command. North at Wash frowning, he never thought he'd see Wash like this, he almost seemed broken.
"Is," York asked hesitantly, "Is she lying? Did she really kill you?"
"No, it was Maine, or at least what's left of Maine," North explained, "South just used me for bait."
Wash came back and South began her monologue about her and North life, "And here I am now, just wondering how I'm gonna live without him."
"Yeah," Wash agreed, aiming his gun at the back of South's head. On instinct, York tried to get the gun away from Wash as North tried to shield his sister.
He didn't stop the bullet.
"Wash!" York yelled.
"I wouldn't go worrying about that if I were you."
The angels froze as South's body fell next to North's. Wash lowered his gun and simply stared at the motionless twins.
The blond angel ignored his tears as he yelled, "WASH! How could you- THIS ISN'T YOU! Why would you even do this!" North was shaking, pent up rage and grief taking over him until York grabbed his arm.
"Dude, look."
North didn't bother to stop glaring at Wash but a groan caught his attention.
"What the hell Wash?" North turned around a choked at bit when South pulled herself up.
"You're dead now," Wash said coldly, "Remember that."
"I don't understand any of this, and my ears are still ringing from that shot you fired."
"It had to sound good for the radio. One second, I need to talk to somebody."
The twins stared in surprise as Delta appeared.
"Yeah, Wash found my body," York explained to the other angel then mumbled, "And then he blew it up."
"Wash did what?"
The two angels followed their friends to an abandon building where South, Wash, and Delta were hiding out. They stood on top of the ledge, peering down on their friends.
"Hey York."
"Yeah?"
"Do you ever wonder why we're here?"
The brunette sighed, "I really don't know, man. I was just a locksmith, I joined the war, I met you guys and Carolina, and next thing I knew, the world's moving too fast and we're just trying to keep up." York tilted his head up, maybe trying to find heaven up there. "I don't know man; it used to keep me up at night. But at the same time, I don't regret having you all in my life. And after what happened with Carolina, I learned to let things go."
North blinked at his friend, "York, I'm happy we met too but uh what I meant was why we're angels and not just dead."
"Uh, yeah," York trailed off scratching the back of his head, feeling a little awkward.
"You even said you let go of Carolina, so why aren't you with her right now?"
"I'm not really sure why, I'm just here." York looked over the two younger Freelancers, "I just have this feeling, telling me that so much more is going on, and I honestly don't know what to do with it."
"What about Carolina? Aren't you going to search for her?"
"Of course, I'm going to find her," York confidentially said, "I'm not going to just let her go without a fight."
"If you're going to use some angel pickup line, she's gonna kick your ass."
Before the brunette could comment, Wash told South his theory of something hunting down Freelancers. "Hunting down Freelancers? You don't mean-"
"Maine," North interrupted, "Sigma did something to him; he doesn't seem human. He even called himself the Meta."
"Yeah, I mean, I always thought that Sigma was weird but he just made Maine insane!"
"York! He's here!" North pointed at the rogue Freelancer with his brute-shot, already firing bullets at the Wash and South. The two angels flew down to where the recovery agents were preparing their guns.
But when they landed they didn't expect South to shot Wash in the back.
"Wash!" the angels shouted as the grey Spartan fell. York knelt next to Wash, not sure what to do.
He looked up at South when she was making a deal with the Meta, shooting down Wash to save her own skin. York didn't need to see the look of betrayal on North's face.
As South ran off, North muttered, "This is what she did to me."
"North, I don't think Wash's gonna make it." York's hand ghost through Wash's hand, trying to comfort his dying friend.
The Meta walked up to Wash, North and York dreading to watch Maine kill Wash. But the strangest thing happened; the Meta suddenly started twitching and dropped his brut-shot. He gripped his helmet, growling in pain. York and North realized what was happening, they had were familiar with the pain of an obsessed AI frantically shouting in their heads but not the pain of three AI.
The angels watched their friend's pain as Sigma appeared, the AI didn't say anything, most likely having mental conversations only for Maine to swat the AI. Maine trudged next to Wash, one hand still gripping his head and the other implanting York's healing unit into Wash's armor and activating it.
Maine let out his final growl and quickly ran, grabbing his brute-shot before he became the Meta. Wash's recovery beacon beeped, breaking the silence between the angels.
Standing up, York turned to North, "You should go after her."
North's eyes drifted to Wash, "She was willing to kill him; she was willing to kill me."
"She said it herself; she wonders how she'll live without you."
"I won't like what I'll see," North signed, already flapping his wings, "I guess we're their guardian angels."
"Who else is going to watch them be idiots," York joked, "We'll see each other later."
Smiling, North gave York a one arm hug and flew to the direction South left.
York looked down at Wash and smiled, "I guess I'm paired with the team's worst fighter."