Series/Disclaimer: Red vs Blue: Out of Mind, which I don't own.
Pairing: None, really.
Warning: Nothing much.

Author's Note: I'm uploading this now because I'm telling myself I won't be doing any more uploading today. When I get home I think I'm going to curl up and watch some Iron Man and...not be online. And stuff.

Plus I want to update my progress journal. I love doing that. Bitch. I'm going to work late to do it. Whatever.

I NEED OPINIONS on if I should go back and give this a part two. Mostly detailing York handling Wash after the incident or possibly the part where Wash loses Epsilon. Thanks much.

- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

They were allowed to watch the process of other Freelancers receiving their AI but York never bothered with it. He'd already asked Delta, whose logical voice he was still adjusting to as it floated through his head, what the process had been like from his end. The answer had been clear and accurate, if not somewhat confusing. He couldn't be sure it was as cut and dry as he'd made it sound but it had been somewhat enlightening anyway. But it was hard to shake the feeling that he was only getting one part of the bigger picture and couldn't think of a better way to make it whole. Hence, standing outside the room where it happened.

"You nervous?" he asked the other solider standing in front of him.

A dark brow lifted over gray-blue eyes, "Should I be?"

York shrugged, "Nah, you'll be fine. Right, Delta?"

"Agent New York is quite accurate," the AI said, appearing beside the two of them, "Thus far, all of the implanted AI have been quite stable. By my calculations you have nothing to worry about, Agent Washington."

"See?" York grinned, nudging the shorter male in the arm, "Just takes some getting used to - you might be a bit dizzy."

"Correct. Agent New York is telling the truth."

"How many times do I have to tell you? Call me York," he instructed lightly, "Of all the instructions for you to ignore."

"My apologies, I will try to remember to do so in the future, York," he sounded like he should have been using air quotes around the name.

He sighed, not entirely convinced, "Thanks, Delta. Retire now."

"Executing." The hologram disappeared.

When he looked back to Wash, the agent was attempting to hide his laughter in his glove. Unfortunately, he couldn't hide the shaking of his shoulders and thus York's hand collided with his arm, "Knock it off."

"You're laughing too," he pointed out, "Is he always like that? Are they all that straightforward?"

"I don't think there's anyone or thing in the world quite like Delta," York confessed with a light chuckle.

Wash settled his laughter as the doors to the Implant Lab opened and techs appeared to check the names on the list with those coming in. Surrounding Freelancers all turned towards the motion, walking to the room in hurried steps that they tried to make look calm but failed at. Everyone wanted theirs first - but Wash hung back for a minute with the older agent. Both he and York stood watching them, and York felt a sense of difference rising between him and them. He hadn't rushed to get Delta, he'd been nervous and apprehensive. Did they know what to think now that others were already implanted? Were they confident in their outcome?

His eyes felt to Wash who looked like a tentative calm had settled over him; he was unsure and yet knew he should have been ready. York rested a hand on the other's plated shoulder, "You'll be fine, Wash. Delta hasn't lied to me yet."

He felt the lift and fall of a deep breath under his hand before the freelancer tugged his helmet on. His only response was a nod and he jogged forward, though something his movements seemed reserved. It was smart of him to be nervous, unsure of what the outcome would be and ready for anything was better than excited and stupidly confident in something so risky. York sighed, a slight sense of unease coming over him as he headed towards the spectator's balcony.

"York, I have picked up on a jump in your heart rate and a contraction of organ tissue," he explained, appearing before the other's eyes as he pulled his helmet back on, "Am I correct in analyzing this emotion as: Concern?"

"Yeah, sounds about right," he admitted, taking a seat beside an agent in black armor.

"Going by the results of previous implantations, I have calculated a 95 chance of Agent Washington's outcome being successful," he said.

"Why the missing five percent, Delta?"

"I have classified Agent Omega-Texas as: Unstable," he answered.

"Allison? She's always been hostile, Delta-" he interjected a slightly annoyed sigh, "You know what? 'Delta' is a pain…how about we cut it back to just 'D'?"

"I do not see the value in shortening my name, York," he might have sounded huffy were he a being of lesser logic.

"It'll cut down on talk time in battle," he tried, "Besides, you've been in my head for two weeks now. I think we can drop the formalities."

"Understood," he agreed despite the pathetic argument on his host's part.

"Quiet, they're starting," the solider beside them said, nudging his arm roughly.

York's eyes found Washington, somewhere towards the end of the rather short line. He stood with a stiff spine, focused on the back of the head of the person in front of him. It was hard to tell if it was because of his natural behavior or because of his refusal to watch the process. In reality, 'Implantation' sounded almost gruesome compared to what a simple process it really was. The immediate effects were minimal - some nausea and dizziness, passing out. It wasn't easy to get used to another voice in your head right from the get-go and some of them were overwhelming. Delta hadn't been, but York was told he had collapsed - he didn't remember it.

Washington stepped up and remained completely still as the various technicians bustled around him. Wires were connected into his helmet and armor, linking him to various monitors and computers that people dressed in the same tech clothes soon stepped to. A mechanized female voice called over the speaker; the exact one that had announced his name alongside Delta's for the first time. He could only imagine Tex, Wyoming, and North having heard the same. It was something like how York imagined an angel; there, almost sweet, and completely neutral.

"Agent Washington-Epsilon."

"Epsilon?" He heard Delta's voice call through his head and almost questioned it but the sudden start of the process caught his attention.

The real Implantation Process was entirely inside the helmet; between the agent and his AI. Aside from not having much interest, it was another reason York never bothered to watch; the intimacy made it hard, if not impossible, to tell what was going on. However, it had been mutually agreed that the freelancer remaining still throughout the process was a good sign. It was almost like a shock to the system kept them upright and functioning, allowing the real weight of it to catch up with them later. The effects showed afterwards, once the disconnecting was done - so when Wash didn't make it that far, it was painfully obvious that something had gone wrong.

Immediately after the special enhancement finished uploading to his armor, the AI process began. Less than two minutes into it his hands flew to his helmet and a scream ripped from the speakers, amplifying it to the point some of the soldiers on the balcony flinched. Several of the techs ran forward while the others pounded furiously on the keys in attempts to stop the process. The windows to the balcony suddenly locked off, sheets of metal baring anything else from view but York had already got up and started down the stairs, jumping quite a few of them in his rush.

"D, what's doing on?"

"I am not sure, though I believe they have implanted Agent Washington with an unstable AI unit."

York turned a corner, the door to the lab already in sight, "Unstable how? Like Omega?"

"No," Delta began but with the sudden appearance of a tech from inside the door he was forced to quiet.

"What the hell is going on with Washington? What did you do to him?" Screams still crawled through the door before it managed to shut. York already knew they would be haunting him tonight whether or not he wanted it.

"There was a minor malfunction in the process. Agent Washington will be receiving our full attention," he said, giving the most vague answer he could.

"What did you give him?"

"That is classified informa-

"What is it, D?"

"My apologies, I do not-"

"You said Epsilon!" he turned, as if Delta was someone behind him that he could turn his anger on, "What is Epsilon to the Alpha?"

Their discussions on the topic had been brief, but within the first week it seemed that the Alpha was the only thing that Delta could discuss. He didn't know everything, but he knew enough that York had received more insight than he probably should have. The process was vague between Delta's explanation and the Director's lies, but he understood that there were a certain number of AI in the bunch that would inevitably be unstable. Delta couldn't have weeded them out either - though it was the only explanation for what was happening.

Delta hesitated, "Memory. Epsilon is the Alpha's memory."

A feeling of overpowering cold surged like a hurricane in York's chest and he turned so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. His hands found the tech's jacket, fisting in it to yank him closer, "You gave him an unstable unit! If you knew it was unstable then why-"

"I am sorry, Agent New York."

It sounded like a doctor saying they were sorry for the loss of a family member; hollow, knowing there should have been some feeling there but not bothering to place it accurately. The words stood there in plain sight, meant for comfort yet meaning absolutely nothing at all. Somehow, York's hands fell away from the tech's jackets as though he had been hit with a tranquilizer that numbed only his arms, and the tech left. As if those words alone would make the entire situations alright he disappeared inside and left York alone with the ringing in his ears.