Hello! My name is Soul Cyanide! I really wanted to post a RomAc fic, so here's mine!

I hope you enjoy!

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"But where are you going?" He calls, light German accent covering his voice, which, in turn, is covered by his mask.

"I've had it. I've just… I've fucking had it." I hitch my gun higher up onto my shoulder and continue walking away.

"You never answered mine question!" I hear footsteps behind me, slowly following me. "Where," he says, suddenly beside me, "Are you going?"

I continue walking forwards. "I don't know. I really don't care right now, either. I'll go live by myself; I've lived in the Dead Zone before, it's really not that hard." I huff out a breath, sounding echoic through my respirator. "If Gromov can do it, I can sure as Hell do it."

"But who will be your Captain? There is no one better suited than I for a Cap-"

Something in my mind draws the line. I round on him. "That's just it, all right? You're not a Captain, you never will be! I can't even begin to fathom why Gromov gave you that title and admin privileges, anyone could have seen that you were obviously insane out of your fucking mind! The only reason you're still here is because of your sheer luck and bloated ego from Pilot doting on you every damn minute of the day! Pilot! He's probably the least sane of us all! He talks to a stuffed animal and keeps a crawler worm-monster as a pet!"

I turn away from him, leaving him standing in the wasteland. Pilot comes out from behind a wall, his hands innocently behind his back. He wanders over to Captain. "So the shoe is finally leaving?" I hear him say happily. "Captain, Captain! He's leaving?" He stops for a second, and bounds over to me, seemingly ecstatic. "Really truly, jiggly slug?" He's in my way, preventing me from walking any further without tripping over him or myself. I put my hand on his face and push him away, but he's back almost instantly. "You're finally going to let me and Captain be together forever?" He circles me, arms flapping in that weird 'airplane mode' he does when he's excited.

"Get out of my face before I impale you with your own katana," I say viciously, aiming my foot for his shins, but he dances out of the way.

"You… You do not think I am a great Captein…?" I hear it said, almost sadly, from somewhere behind me.

"You never were one," I say into my mask.

I hear feet behind me, ones that march, unlike Pilot's prancing movements.

"What have I done to make you think of me as a bad Captein?"

I stop, making Pilot fall into me, my gun driving into my back as he topples. "The fuck off me," I growl, twisting and kicking him in the ribs to emphasize my demand.

"Captain, you don't want this potty-mouth shoe in Captania! Banish him, Banish him, I say! He doesn't give you the love and respect you deserve; I do, though!"

"Hush, Pilot," Captain Orders. Pilot falls silent immediately, sitting down on the barren ground. "Mr. Snippy, please name three things that have made me a bad Captain," he says, tilting his head.

I know my goggles have probably mirrored my furrowed eyebrows, but oh, how I wish he could see my angry face right now. "Ridiculous outfits every day for a week, lit my shoe on fire, waking me up every day with stupid loud noises," I say almost instantly.

"Two more."

"Remembrances of the Past Day, stealing my calendar and messing with it."

"One more."

"Flying day."

"Three more."

I let out an aggravated groan. "I could do this all day. I'm done." And with that, I turn around and walk away, leaving everything behind, ignoring my name being called from Pilot, along with words he seems to think are obscenities.

"Oh, dear," I hear Captain say, his voice ringing clearly amongst the cheers and jeers from Pilot. "I seem to have run out of tea."

The world goes black as I hear a sharp crack! and something collides with the back of my mask.

*O*O*O*

I wake up groggily, trying to sit up, but biting back a pained groan as the back of my head throbs angrily. I'm lying on the rotting couch, one of the few 'beds' used in our base. My eyes blur as I try to focus on my surroundings.

I hear Pilot talking animatedly to someone, most likely Himself or that damn plush toy of his.

I look around to see Gromov sitting casually in a chair, knees parted, elbows on knees, chin in hands, staring at me intently. "There's no internal damage, but there is a slight flesh wound. Minor blunt force trauma, I think."

"You're up!" The German tone I heard from behind gave me a start.

Damn, I thought dauntingly.

Captain sticks his face (mask, really) in my line of vision. "Why must you disobey Captein? My mug cannot withstand all of this disobedience!" He says exasperatedly, flourishing the mug to such an extent that its contents slosh everywhere, making me jerk away from the spillage. "Anyways," He continues, sitting on the couch in the small space that was free. "I have taken it into my duties to become the best Captein this side of the Apocalypse has ever seen!" He thrusts his mug upwards, some of the substance hitting my jacket.

Tea shouldn't make a sizzling noise against a fire-proof jacket.

"I will become the best Captein my Sniper has ever seen, and never will he run away again!" He pats me on the head (causing it to smart wickedly) and strolls outside. Pilot mutters something unintelligible and skips outside to join the other crazy one.

"I think you got about 20 yards farther," Gromov says simply. "Better luck next week, Charles."

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So was it good? Please review, your comments mean the world to me :)

If you have any questions, comments, or ideas I could use on an upcoming fic, let me know!

xoSoul