I do not own Red vs. Blue. Rooster Teeth has that. I do own this storyline.
Title: Yearning for Freedom
Rated: M
Summary: O'Malley has fun with Caboose, who reacts in a way, not even the AI could've predicted.
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He was scared. The other had already tried to kill him. Twice. The young Spartan had only narrowly evaded the murderous attempts, but it gave him no peace of mind. Ha. That was laughable. Peace of mind. No. That was the one thing O'Malley didn't want. Was Caboose to have peace of mind. If he had that, O'Malley had nothing. An older Spartan, late twenties, looked over to the youngest in the room. This same deal was getting monotonous. Staying at the golden haired private's side while he slept. Of course, Caboose would do anything for anyone else if they were in the same predicament. Leonard Church withdrew a small wash cloth from the bowl next the cot, and squeezed out the excess water. He folded it and placed it gingerly on Caboose's forehead after wiping away the sweat that had been accumulating there. He had to say he was honestly worried about him. Caboose hadn't been like this when he first got here, and he's been jumpy for the past two weeks. Church thought back to the first time Caboose began acting differently.
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Church walked down the hall with his hands in his jean pockets. He had just woken up, and in a rather good mood, too, which he thought was impossible. Caboose came out through an adjacent corridor.
"Hey Caboose!" He waved at him. Caboose flinched and blocked his face with his arms. "DON'T HIT ME!!!" Caboose shrieked. "Caboose? I'm not going to hit you. I was just saying hi..." Caboose peeked out from behind his arms, slowly lowering them. Church peered at the the younger Blue. "Are you okay?" He reached out to touch his shoulder. Caboose jerked back and ran off down the hall, disappearing around a corner.
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His thoughts wandered back to Caboose's first impression. What had made him a ghost. Looking back, it was actually hilarious, if not useful to the ...daresay...cause.
Church streaked his fingers through his hair in thought. The short, silver hair made the impression he was older than he actually was. He used it to his advantage with unfamiliar people. Being older usually meant you've had more experience. And in war, experience was invaluable. 'Hm. The Reds have been quiet lately...' Church's thought of war had brought the entire Red verses Blue scenario they had down there in that god forsaken boxed canyon. Church sighed at the forced situation. Whoever was in charge didn't give a fuck about them. The entire two teams had been sent down here; practically a death sentence. There was no way out. No withdrawal. Church clenched his fist in vain. What the hell were they even doing down here? He looked onto the slim metal arm of his chair. On the plastic arm rest was a book entitled, 'A Tale of Two Cities'. It was slung over the arm a few chapters short of the middle. The Spartan picked it up and skimmed the pages, going back to where he had read from.
Chapter One-The Period:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness-
Wasn't that the truth. Church thought, a smirk and a sharp exhale broke the eerie silence that infected the base. Tucker had gone to, God knows where. And the Reds had neglected their main objective to kill the other team first. Church did enjoy the quiet, though. He sighed and flipped forward to the folded corner of his present spot.
He imitated the action of a man's being impelled forward by the butt-ends of muskets.
"As they descend the hill like madmen running a race, he falls. They laugh and pick him up again. His face is bleeding and covered with dust-" Church once again got lost in Charles Dicken's novel.
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"Do not run Michael. It's not that bad." The AI advanced on a beautiful, young Spartan.
"No! I know what you want to do! All you want to do is hurt me!" He cried out as he strained to crawl away. O'Malley became infuriated. The image the AI fizzed out and appeared infront of the desperate boy. He slammed his heel into the back of Caboose's head with a crack and fizzled out again. This time, he appeared above Caboose, a foot on either side of the writhing form. He struck out his arm like a cat hooking a defenseless fish and latched onto his neck and slammed his head into the metal floor that was Caboose's mind. Caboose screamed out in pain as blood dripped off of his golden locks and from his forehead. O'Malley, in one swift movement, flipped Caboose over onto his back, lifted him off the ground by the Spartan;s now probably bruised neck, and slammed him into the wall of his mind. "I told you Michael. Do not run from me. All that does is get me angry, and you get hurt. I do not want to hurt you, Michael." Caboose bit his lip and tried to fight back the tears that were now dwelling just behind his eyes. O'Malley brought his face close to his prey, a smug grin occupying his face, and an abusive flame dancing in his crimson eyes and he released Caboose, letting him fall to the groundthree feet below. "But you're just too damn fun." He turned and walked away, fizzing out once more.
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End of Chapter One
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Please review. ^^ I hope that was a good start. This idea has haunted me for a good few months now,and it started getting annoying, so, I finally wrote it.