It wasn't supposed to be like this.

"What the fuck are we supposed to do?!"

This wasn't even supposed to happen for so many more years. There should have been planning…

"Dude, are you even fucking listening to me?!"

…and it wasn't supposed to be with him, of all people.

"Dude, snap out of it!"

"I'm trying to have an internal monologue, you dickwipe!" Church snapped, turning to look at Tucker, who seemed oddly composed, despite the words floating from his helmet.

"Oh, right, because I'm supposed to just solve everything while you fucking think about it for god knows how long. I'm sorry, please continue your monologue."

"I would, but you ruined it." Church shook his head and looked down at the ground. "So what the fuck are we going to do now?"

"I don't wanna touch it."

"Someone has to! And don't call him an it. He's still our friend, you fucktard."

"Whoa whoa whoa, wait a minute. Our friend?"

"Sorry, momentary lapse of judgment there. Won't happen again." What the fuck was wrong with him today? Was he…actually worried?

"I'm gonna go see if anyone over at Red base got hit. You keep an eye on…him. And don't fuck it up, or command is gonna chew our asses again." Tucker took off running in the opposite direction, instinctively swerving around the burned path along the ground that the giant laser beam had cut into the grass.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was never supposed to have kids, and if that shit ever did happen, it was supposed to be with, well…a girl, for starters. Maybe Tex. He honestly hadn't given it much thought.

"Church?"

The familiar, pathetic voice drifted through the air, hitting his helmet. A headache instantly sieged his brain and he wished he could remove his helmet to rub his head, but he never took his helmet off.

Suddenly, he wondered why he never took his helmet off. Was that weird? It never seemed weird before.

But that wasn't the important thing. The important thing was that there was a very tiny, very young Caboose sitting on the ground in front of him, barely visible through a pile of now-oversized armor. Thank god he'd decided to wear a shirt under his gear that day—it was the only thing keeping Church from seeing a very tiny, very young, very naked Caboose.

Fucking Tucker. It had been his job to calibrate the weird laser they'd gotten delivered from command. He just knew the fucking Reds were behind this somehow. It had shot a beam randomly and hit Caboose square in the chest, and after they made sure he hadn't disintegrated, they realized he'd been…turned into a child.

Church couldn't decide which was more annoying, child-Caboose or regular Caboose. So far, he was losing either way.

"I'm scared."

"Now now, buddy, it's gonna be okay. We're gonna get Doc over here as soon as possible." What the fuck, was he comforting Caboose? Jesus Christ. He couldn't believe the words he was saying.

"Oh my god I knew it. I knew we were friends." Child-Caboose giggled, and to Church's ears, it was the worst sound in the world.

"I didn't fucking say that."

"Language!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up. You're not a kid."

"Yes I am."

"How do you even know?! You can't see yourself!"

"I can see you, and you're tall. That means I am not tall; that means I am short. And I haven't been short since I was a kid."

"You—" Oh fuck, his logic sort of made sense. "Well, how you do you know you're not just lying down?"

"Am I? I don't think I am, but I can check." The kid rolled onto his back and stayed there for a few seconds, then sat back up, the pieces of armor shifting around him. "I wasn't. Then I was, but now I am not."

Goddammit. Where the fuck was Tucker? "Okay, fine. You got…well, uh, hit by this laser beam, and you're kind of…well, you're a kid. Or something."

"Or something? Am I not me anymore? Oh my god what did I change into?!" Caboose began to bounce up and down. "Can I fly? Can I drive? Did I turn into a tank? Oh my god am I a tank now? Because that might be awkward for Sheila."

"Caboose, shut the fuck up!"

"Language."

"Oh my god just—okay, you know what? Let's play the quiet game."

"The quiet game? What's that?"

Wow. "Uh, if you talk first, you lose. It's pretty simple."

"Oh boy! When do we start?" Caboose stood up in the pile of armor, his shirt draping to the ground, nearly swallowing him.

"Right now."

"Okay! Oh no. Okay. Now. No, now. No, now. No—"

"Caboose!"

"You lose!" he shouted triumphantly.

"No…no, we weren't…goddammit."

"No one on the red team knows what's going on," Tucker said from beside him, having suddenly reappeared. "I tried telling them about the laser, but they just asked if I was high again. What have you been telling them?"

"Nothing," Church replied, probably a little too hastily. "So what are we supposed to do with Caboose? I can barely tolerate him anyway; I don't need a kid fucking things up around here."

"Hey, language! He's just a kid," Tucker said.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you were swearing before you left."

"Yeah, but not right in front of the fucking kid."

"Yes you did!"

"Jesus Christ, now I have to watch my mouth? Like your mom did last night, bow chicka—"

"I swear to God, Tucker—"

"…wow wow," he muttered, half-under his breath.

"I think he just called your mom a mean thing," Caboose offered helpfully from the ground.

"Yes. I got it, Caboose. Thank you."

"You're welcome! I'm hungry."

"Fuck. What do kids eat?"

"Whatever regular humans eat, dumbass," Tucker said, shaking his head. "We better see what's left in the kitchen. I called Doc too, he should be here soon."

"Fucking great." Doc was so useless, he couldn't tell a hangnail from a bullet in the foot. But he was something, and they had nothing, so that was still…something. Church sighed. His internal thinking was all fucked up now.

"Come on Caboose, let's get you some food."

"Oh boy, food! I am hungry."

"We know, you just told us." Tucker motioned for the kid to follow, and Caboose stepped out of the armor pieces to toddle after Church, who was already halfway to the base.