Several Years Ago...
Main POV
Beads of sweat dripped down the back of my neck and slid down my under armour suit, making me flinch forward. I'd never really gotten over what happened all those years ago, even the slightest touch was too much. The sun burned through my cracked and fading armour, hot sand blowing through the air vents in the suit and scraping across my skin. I looked up at the sun that never seemed to set and put my rifle on my back. This was it, I could finally go looking for them.
"This is you, then?" a male voice jolted me from my internal monologue.
"CT," I greeted.
"What, didn't you hear me coming?" he chuckled. "You're slipping in your old age."
"Who are you calling old?" I laughed. "I'm only twenty six."
"And yet I could sneak up on you so easily," he teased. "Maybe you should think about retiring."
"You know I can't," I sighed. "They're my family. I have to find them."
"I know, I just think after everything you've been through, do you really wanna go and dig all of that back up?"
"If he's still out there, then it's worth it. Wouldn't you do the same?" I asked.
"If it was Connie? Yeah," he sighed. "Then let's get you loaded up."
I followed him back up the dune and over the other side, watching some of the other guys load my crate up onto the warthog with the rest of my duffel bags full of stuff. I pulled my helmet off and dropped it down onto the passenger side seat. Opening my arms, I invited CT in for a hug, this would likely be the last time I ever saw him. He had plans to give all this up, go home and I wanted to join but, I had to go and find them. CT was right, after everything I'd been through I needed that. To find them. There I would find peace.
"See you later old woman," CT chuckled. As usual, I was the group's youngest. I'd miss these guys, but not as much as I missed my team.
"See you round, CT," I waved goodbye.
Present Day...
Tucker POV
The Valhalla sun burned through my skin as I sunbaked on the roof of the base. I was bored. Not bored enough, or brave enough even, to hang downstairs with Caboose nor was I about to go and find Wash. That guy was too cranky for his own good. He couldn't have always been like that, could he? Church was right, Project Freelancer did ruin everyone who ever joined. It couldn't all be Wash's fault, no, though he had a generally withered and brash demeanour, most of his bad attitude now was down to Caboose keeping him up all night.
'Bow chicka bow wow~'
Caboose, like most of us over at blue base was missing Church. But unlike the rest of us he had no shame in admitting how needy he was. Wash and myself kept the angst internal like real men. I was just glad he didn't come to me anymore when he woke up in the night crying because he missed his friend. I had the nightmares too sometimes, of all the things we'd seen. Caboose was too... different.. to really understand though. And when he barrelled down the hallway in his Donald Duck pyjamas at 3 in the morning and hammered on Wash's door the ex-freelancer just couldn't turn him away.
Caboose's constant whining and wailing and non stop crying out in his sleep had driven Wash to almost breaking point. Poor Wash had more patience with him than anyone before, but this was just the tip of the iceberg. I could feel it, things were calm, too calm. Something was coming. A storm. More trouble. We'd never caught a break before, why start now? I rolled over so the sun wasn't burning through my skin anymore and pushed myself up off the ground and into a sitting position, concrete scalding my bare hands and right through my blue jeans. I wiped the sweat from my eyes and decided if the nights were going to be sleepless, I'd might as well catch some shut eye now. We had an old, disused warthog I could curl up in the back of. Just the right amount of shade too.
It would still be a few hours before the nightly poker game with the Reds. We'd been on good terms with them lately, not good enough to go over during the day while they were training or building something though. Better chances when you went over at night. I was enjoying just sitting in the sun until Wash broke the peaceful silence by clearing his throat. He walked over and sat beside me also in civvies. He wore the same tired look, worn face and sunken eyes. His blonde, spiky hair and almost permanent 5 o'clock shadow shone in the sunlight.
"What do you want Wash?" I sighed.
"The pink guy from red base heard about our trouble with Caboose and wanted to help, then the Grif invited us over for a beer," he told me, cutting right to the chase.
"..Yeah, I wouldn't trust Donut's help.." I told him. He shuddered.
"I learned my lesson the first time."
I never ended up moving to the warthog for a nap. Wash and I stayed up on the base roof, legs dangling over the edge and soaking up the vitamin D in complete silence. At least until the evening set in and Caboose bounced up the ramp to tell us he was hungry. A few ration packs later we were wandering over the grass to Red base for whatever "therapy" Donut and Doc had cooked up.
Simmons was waiting at the door to welcome us in and lead us through to the rec-room we'd been to hundreds of nights before. Sarge and Grif were sitting opposite ends of the same sofa exchanging sarcastic remarks as was customary for them during down time. Donut handed Wash and myself a beer and we went over to the sitting area while we waited for Doc to give up for the night. I looked over at the round table and saw a pile of crayons and old paperwork. So, today we were doing art therapy were we? Really Caboose was just happy with orange juice and crayons. And everyone was happy that he wasn't accidentally burning down either of their bases. Maybe the therapy was a success after all.
Main POV
When an abandoned Red and Blue base came up on the nav panel I was NOT expecting it to be occupied by, you guessed it, Reds and Blues! I grumbled to myself as I crawled across my belly through the dirt and the grass still warm from the daytime. I finally made it to the Base's front entrance and I leaned up against the concrete wall, pulling my knees up to my chest as I checked what ammunition I had in my handgun. Clicking off the safety, I took a deep breath. Here we go.
I ducked past several doorways and headed till I found the room with the most noise, see if I couldn't scope out numbers. Poking my head around the doorway every so slightly I almost scoffer. Raising a brow at the sight before me I took a step back and leaned up against the wall.
'What the fuck?'
"Did you hear something?" a familiar male voice asked.
'Oh shit,' I realised if someone was asking my question I'd essentially been caught. Pushing off from the wall I hurried back down the hallway and ducked down into the first connecting corridor I found. I leaned up against the wall and took a deep breath, preparing myself for oncoming search parties. Though the soldiers in the rec-room might have been in civvies, the others in the base might not have been. If there were others. But for my personal safety, I had to assume there were.
I heard the sound of careful, fast moving footsteps up ahead. Only one. Why only one? I readied myself with my gun and waited for him to find me. Bursting round the corner in nothing but blue jeans and a grey t-shirt and blonde, spiky haired and very familiar looking soldier pointed a standard issue handgun at me. I raised a brow, though with my helmet on he wouldn't have been able to see it.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"How many soldiers occupy this base?" I replied.
"None of your business," he responded. "Who are you?"
"None of your business," I smirked. "Now, David Stone, tell me how many other people occupy this base."
"How the hell did you.." he growled out. "Alright, who are you and what do you want, you have five seconds to tell me before I shoot."
"You're gonna take more damage than me, you sure you wanna play it that way, Wash?" I grinned.
"I like my chances, how many of you are there?" he replied.
"Just me," I chuckled. "Am I right in assuming that all the occupants of that room back there is everyone?"
"You can assume it but that would be.."
"Incredibly dangerous, yeah I know," I rolled my eyes. He said the same thing we all had drilled into us back at the project. "So tell me, Wash, when did you ditch Project Freelancer to consort with, whoever those guys are."
"You don't know anything about them, do you? Which means you weren't sent here for them, so why are you here?" he asked.
"I wasn't sent here by anyone," I clicked the safety back on my pistol and strapped it to my thigh. I reached up for my helmet and clicked the safety release, twisting it slightly before tugging it off my head. Blonde hair spilled out over my face and shoulders. It had been years since my last haircut and I was all out of hair ties. Still, if he knew me as well as he said he did back then, then he'd know who I was.
"Newbie? Is that you?"
"Sure is kiddo," I smirked.
"I'm older than you!" he threw his hands out and I chuckled.
"And yet you're still so easy to rile," I replied. "How come you're hiding out here? When I read through the files to try and find everyone, you were supposed to be dead, I wasn't expecting of all the people to have faked their death..."
"And what about you, the Director told us you never made it to that drilling plant," he said. I smirked. I knew that old bastard wanted rid of me, but the ship exploding while I was on my way, that was a little extreme.
"Hey, who are you?" a chubby, shaggy haired Hawaiian guy padded round the corner, barefoot and holding a beer.
"Who are you?" I replied.
"I asked you first," he blew a raspberry at me.
"Grif, head back inside, this is an old acquaintance of mine," Wash told him. I was hurt at his word choice, he didn't trust me. Though if he thought I was dead for all these years I couldn't exactly blame him.
"Are they all reds and blues?" I asked when the fat guy left.
"Yeah," Wash nodded. "But they're alright."
"Aren't they supposed to be fighting, no wait, didn't we shut down the Red and Blue program?" I asked.
"Years ago," Wash confirmed. "These guys are different. Listen, why don't you go back to blue base, that's where I live, and get cleaned up. We'll talk about this later when we've got more privacy."
"Alright," I nodded softly. I started heading for the base door when I stopped and turned back to the retreating figure. "David?"
"Yeah?" he asked, turning around.
"I missed you."
"Yeah, me too."
I leaned back against the cool wall of the shower, hot water cascading over my skin and lighting it up a burned red colour. It felt so good to have a real shower, have real soap. It might have been regulation and supplied by the military but fuck it, it was real. I was clean again for the first time in forever. I leat the hot water soak through my hair and conditioner slowly roll out in beads down my back. I ran my hands through the now very soft strands. It had been a few years since I'd set out from the desert base with the Sand Fleas and I'd not found a single one of my team members, until now. Why now? Why Wash? Was this a trap? Was Wash a bad guy now, like CT had warned me about. I'd have to be careful, any one of those guys could try and kill me at any moment.
I reluctantly turned the water off and rested my forehead against the icy tiles. I took a deep breath and pushed off the wall, stepping out of the shower and grabbing the regulation white towel. I wrapped it around myself and pulled on some underwear. I had no idea why this base had a bathtub but I was pretty grateful. I squatted by the edge and stared down at my soaking armour and swished the soapy bubbles around with my hand.
I rose to my feet and folded my towel in half and rested it on the counter top. One by one I rinsed off my armour pieces ad dropped them down to dry on the towel. Eventually I drained the now black bath water and picked my helmet up from the bench where I'd left it to sit. With a damp cloth I gently and carefully wiped the fragile piece of technology clean. The control centre for the rest of the armour was kept there, you don't seal your helmet right when you take an under water expedition and you'd in darkness. And also probably dead because when the water get's in you drown. The battery pack for the armour though, was on the back under the let shoulder plate. Most common place to get shot that, wonder if that's why.
Once my armour was clean and left to dry I made my way through to the locker room next door and pulled out my civvies I'd taken from the duffle I'd left on the warthog. Pulling on some jeans and socks I then sat down to pull on my shoes. It felt weird to be dressed like this again. I felt so exposed. I tugged on my t-shirt and then jacket, my wet hair soaked through the light grey fabric as I'd made no attempt to dry it. I rolled my shoulders back as I took another deep breath. I was okay. Everything was okay.
I tucked my handgun into the back of my pants but leaving the assault rifle where it lay as I couldn't exactly take it with me. It didn't exactly scream trust me, and I also didn't have a place to attach it to my person now I wasn't in my armour. I walked to the door of the locker room and pulled it open, stepping into the barren hallway. It was reasonably dark now, the only source of light was the glowing blue strips along the corridor walls at foot height, illuminating only the floor.
I opened and closed my hands, stretching out my fingers and palms in an attempt to calm myself down. As usual I was too on edge. I needed to calm down. I just needed to calm down or if anyone did try to attack me, I wouldn't be able to fight them off. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. I repeated my mantra of 'You're okay' and 'Stay calm' in my head over and over as I walked through the halls to the base door. I'd head back to the Red base now and find Wash. He knew how to deal with my panic attacks, even if he may try to murder me later.
There was a swooshing sound to my right and before I could turn to see it I was pressed up against the base wall, forearm pressed up against my throat and lifted slightly off the ground. I let out as a scream as I was thrown into the concrete only for it to be cut off as I was choked. My toes barely brushed aginst the ground as I dangled. I clawed at the arm pressed over my windpipe as tears pricked at the sides of my eyes. I managed to pull the arm away from my throat long enough to scream out at top volume for Wash.
"It is Wash," my attacker told me. I threw my head back against the wall and kicked my legs out, fighting out against the pressure on my neck.
"No," I choked. "Please don't. I c-can't... I c-can't.. breath..." I gasped out, barely able to get anything out. Mind you, if I was being choked, I don't know why I thought telling that person I couldn't breath was going to do anything. This could just be another nightmare. Wash was my friend. He wouldn't try to kill me.
The arm against my windpipe relented just a bit. I was lowered to the ground and pinned to the wall. I didn't have any strength left, I could barely stand on my own. Wash got close, close enough I could see his face. His eyes were sunken in from fatigue, he'd started to get laugh lines and light crows feet around his eyes. It was undoubtedly Wash though. He was was older, too, than I usually imagined him as. This wasn't a dream.
"Please," I begged, voice breaking, tears actually falling from my eyes. He knew what I'd been through. Why did he had to kill me like this, he could have just shot me in the back of the head and I'd never know what happened. "Not like this, I don't wanna see you do it."
"What?" He recoiled, almost pulling back completely. "Do what?"
"If you're gonna kill me," I told him. "After everything that's happened to me, if you have to kill me, I don't wanna see you do it. Not you, I can't look you in the eye and let you kill me. I love you."
"I'm not going to... you love me?" he paused. "Of course, you said I was like a brother to you. Look, you've been supposedly dead for years, I'm going to need a little something to go on if I'm supposed to believe you're not going to kill us all in our sleep or drag me off because of fucking Project Freelancer."
"I just want to go home," I told him. "But I can't do it until I find my friends. Almost everyone is dead, but, if you're here, then maybe everyone else is just..."
"They're not faking it," he replied. "North, York, Maine, Wyoming, CT, Tex, South, all dead."
"And Carolina?" I asked.
"She.. Y-you were there for.." Wash stuttered.
"She's not, is she?" I asked. "She was the first of us, besides CT and she'd not really dead?"
"No," Wash sighed. "She always had her grappling hook, remember? She faked her death."
"Wyoming and Maine's files don't say they're dead," I told Wash.
"They must be old copies," Wash assured me. "Trust me, I saw them die myself."
"Considering you have your elbow over my wind pipe, forgive me if I don't trust you as much as I used to," I bit back. He dropped his arm.
"I needed to make sure you weren't going to kill me, you weren't possessed by some psycho AI or something," he told me.
"What convinced you otherwise?" I asked.
"I'm still not 100% but the way you still flinch away, it's been years but you're still affected by it, aren't you?" Wash told me. "If an AI or two had taken you over, they weren't there, they didn't see all that. They wouldn't know how to act that out."
"Gee, I'm sure glad my PTSD could come in handy," I said sarcastically and he rolled his eyes.
"I need you to tell me everything," he told me. "If you're going to stay here, if I'm going to trust you around my friends."
"I need you to tell me everything, so I can go and find mine," I replied.
"I told you they're all dead," Wash grumbled.
"And I don't fucking believe you," I replied, shoving him the rest of the way off of me and storming down the rest of the hallway.
"Newbie! Newbs, wait!" Wash called after me. I could head jogging behind me before he grabbed me. I was turned back towards him before I stumbled, sneakers squeaking across the polished concrete floors and I hit the wall. Wash held me tightly, making sure I didn't fall the rest of the way before he slowly leaned back, setting us both steady on our feet.
"Come to the roof," he blurted out.
"Why, so you can shove me off it?" I growled.
"No," he replied. "So you can see the view."
Tucker POV
"Yo," Grif said as we sat awkwardly in the Red's red-room. "You think they're coming back?"
"I think they were wayyyyy more than acquaintances," Simmons said. "That's for sure."
"You think they're banging?" I asked.
"Nah, they're probaly off arguing or something," Grif said. "Me and Josi, there was never any reunion sexy, no hot, angry sex. Always arguments."
"Yeah," Simmons sighed. "I miss Private Sharp."
"Dude why don't you just fucking call her Emily, it's like you don't even.." Grif started.
"I will chose how I greave over my own fucking girlfriend you fat sack of dicks!" Simmons screamed.
"Sorry," the Hawaiian stuttered out. Simmons didn't usually have random outbursts of rage, but on a rare occasion, if Emily came up, he'd lose it. He'd just fucking lose it. I could never work out who had it worse. Simmons lost Emily in the fight while she was with the good guys, Grif's lived long enough to become a bad guy. And then he never saw her again.
Main POV
"This is a pretty nice view."
Wash and I had been staring up at the dark sky littered with white dots off in the distance, the occasional pink splatter across the scape. I remembered when we were kids, how fascinated we were with the stars. I didn't even know, when we met again that it was him, not for a while at least. But the stars, we'd always loved them. I wanted to be amongst them. Before my dad died, I was gonna go explore space. Instead, I ended up fighting in it.
"You remember when we were kids and we used to have sleepovers just to watch the stars?" Wash asked.
My dad's bike slowed to a stop outside the familiar two story on New Alexandria. It was a better neighbourhood, the street was filled with nice houses, large backyards and short, white picket fences or no barriers at all. The people here, they were relaxed. It was a stark contrast to the shitty apartments I'd grown up in. Though with the job offer my dad had just taken, I was hoping the apartments would get less shitty from now on. And then David could come over.
Dad swung his leg over the bike and climbed off first, helping me off after him, despite the fact at 10 years old I was more than capable of standing on my own two feet.
"Behave yourself, okay?" he leaned squatted down in front of me, tying my untied shoe and then looking up at me. I nodded in conformation.
"I will," I told him. He stood and ruffled my hair.
"See you tomorrow at 2," he climbed back on the bike, helmet resting on his lap while he waited for me to walk up to the front door and get invited inside. "I love you," he called. I smiled softly.
"Love you too Daddy," I replied, ringing the doorbell. I didn't look back when Mrs. Stone opened the door and let me inside. If I did, I probably wouldn't have gone inside. Instead the heartbroken look on my dad's face would have made me run back to the bike before the door had even started to close. We'd had an argument earlier. About David, about sleepovers I was getting too old for. I was 10, I just wanted to have sleepovers with my best friend, just like everyone else.
I tugged on the straps of my backpack as I headed straight up the stairs to David's room. He was sitting at his desk when I found him, going over all his books on the constellations for this sector of space. I dropped my bag on the floor by the door and walked over to the bed, leaping up and landing on it with a bounce. I looked over to David, who hadn't looked up since I got here.
"Nerd," I chuckled.
"You came over here specifically to watch a meteor shower, who's the nerd now?" He responded, finally acknowledging my presence.
"Still you," I said with a wry smile. "You're the one who came up with the idea and invited me."
"About that..." he turned around in his desk chair to look at me with a guilty facial expression. "There's something I've got to tell you."
"Did you get the wrong date?" I asked preemptively. He was usually pretty bad for that. It would mean apologising to my dad and begging for him to let me have one more one last sleepover.
"No, this isn't about the meteor shower," he shook his head. "Look, I invited you over so we could have one last sleepover before I move."
"You're moving house?" I asked, lifting my foot up to my chest and yanking off my shoe.
"More like planet," he resounded and I dropped the shoe I'd been holding.
"You're moving planet, seriously?" I looked at him, my heart broke. "What am I going to do without you?" The sleepovers would be hard enough to deal with, losing him forever was too much. He was my best friend.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah," I replied, sipping the beer he'd given me. "I remember."
"I wish we'd had more time back then, before all this shit happened."
"You remember when we met?" I asked.
"Which time," he laughed.
"They were both pretty good," I smiled. I was always a pretty spunky kid.
"Hey."
I stared down at the boy sitting in the dirt in front of me. He was curled up in a ball, knees up to his chest and head restin got them. He was quietly sobbing by himself, miles away from everyone else in the yard. I poked him. He ignored me.
"Hey!" I yelled, poking him harder. He looked up at me, tears sliding down his bright red face. His eyes were puffy and swolen. He was really upset. This was serious. I sat down beside him, crossing my legs meditation style.
"What?" He cried out.
"Why are you crying?" I asked, I leaned over my knees and picked up a stick. I started drawing in the dirt, this was going to be a long one.
"Why do you care?" he wailed, covering his face back up with his hands.
"Why shouldn't I?" I asked, looking up at him from my drawing. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong." I tried using one of my Dad's lines. They always seemed to work on me.
"I-I-I I hurt myself..." he started, a perfectly reasonable reason to be crying actually, I couldn't fault him there. "The, the other boys Gavin and Michael were being mean to me and when I asked them to stop they said if I could beat them in a race around the basketball court they would. I-I was winning but then Gavin tripped me and I lost. I really hurt my shin and they won't stop picking on me now because I didn't win the race."
"What's your name?" I asked, nodding along to everything he said, listening intently.
"D-david," he told,me, wiping away some of his tears.
"I'm Diana," I shook his hands. "Let me see your leg." I ordered and he put his foot in my lap, extending his leg so I could see it. I examined it, there was a big red mark, definitely going to bruise. "You should go to the nurse about this. Don't worry David, I'll take care of Gavin and Michael."
"B-but how? They'll hurt you too," he worriedly asked, his new friend mightn't be his new friend for long if she got pummelled by his bullies.
"No they won't." I stood up, dusting myself off. "I'm a girl and boys can't hit girls."
Washington POV
I was sat on one of the plush chairs in the office, right by the sickbay. I was there for ages while the school talked on the phone to my mom. They'd given me an icepack to help with the bruise, not that it would do much. It would still bruise. The chair beside me scraped across the floor as a body plopped down into it.
"I was wrong," I heard Diana say. "Turns out boys can hit girls."
"They shouldn't," I told her. I looked her over, she was only slightly bruised, compared to what I thought was gonna happen. She had a big red mark on her left arm and a cut on her cheek.
"It's okay though," she assured me. "I got them." She pointed over to two boys sitting across from use. They were bleeding and bruised in many places and glaring at her. She poked her tongue out and waved at them. I had no doubts it was her that busted them up that badly.
"How?" I asked. She chuckled.
"Oh you know, just asked them nicely."
Main POV
After walking David to the nurse I had to go around the playground to find Gavin and Michael. The two terrors in question were lurking by the basketball court looking pretty proud of themselves. They were squatting by the dirt on the edge of the court, up to no good I assumed. I walked up to them and stood firm, putting my hands on my hips.
"Hey! You!" I pointed at them. "Why are you picking on David?"
They turned away from what they were doing in the dirt to look up at me. They were confused, but still looking pretty smug. They stared at me and I raised a cocky eyebrow. I waited. They would answer.
"None of your business," Michael replied eventually, turning away from me.
"Yes it is," I told him, grabbing his shoulder. He stood, looking pissed. He towered over me, he was one of the schools taller eight year olds. I was six. This may have been a mistake.
"Why? You're just some girl," Michael said, confused as to why anyone cared about David the weird kid, and that made me sad. I liked David the weird kid. replied turning away from her.
"I'm his friend you meanie," I replied and pointed at him accusingly. "And you're going to stop being mean to him."
"Or what?" his friend Gavin scoffed. I didn't reply in words. Instead, I pulled back my fist and punched him right in his big nose. While he flew back i reached forward and gripped Michael's shirt and used it to pull him towards me, and slammed my knee into his stomach. Gavin started to get up and I gabbed his head and Michael's slamming the two of them together. Of course, them being boys and two years older than me they were stronger and got in a couple of punches but I had something they didn't have. Skill. Daddy taught me well.
"Or I'm going to keep shoving your face in the dirt," I replied, kicking his legs out from under him, I rubbed Michael's freckled face in the dirt. "Until you stop.
"What is going on here?!" I looked up from the boys to see a very cross looking Mrs. J staring down at me making Michael eat the dirt while Gavin lay groaning on the ground.
"Nothing," I replied innocently.
"Nothing?' Mrs. J. replied in disbelief.
"Yep," I answered with a nod.
"Principal's office, now." She ordered, grabbing me by the scruff of my neck and dragging me off of the two boys.
"I was kind of an asshole," I commented.
"Kind of?" Wash scoffed. He got serious again, looking at me with a much softer expression than he had all night. "Listen, about before, I'm sorry. I've been betrayed a lot these past few years, it would just be the icing on the cake if you did it too."
"I know," I sighed. "It's been pretty rough these past few years for me too."
"And I uh, I realised the way I pinned you, it might have brought some things I'm sure you'd like to forget back up.."
"I know," I replied. "I was already having a panic attack in the corridor. I don't know what it was that got me this time, what brought it on. If it was just seeing you again, being out of armour, being this exposed, I don't... but I knew if I got to you, you knew me. You could help me, you'd seen my panic attacks before so when i was walking through the hall I didn't see you coming, like I should have."
"You don't have to explain shit to me," Wash told me.
"I'm fucking tired," I announced and then yawned. I stared up at the sky, I didn't want to give this view up.
"I know," he groaned. "Me too. Come on, I'll show you down stairs and find you a place to sleep."
"Wash uh..." I started. "Can I sleep with you?" He choked. "It's just that, I'm really on edge right now and I don't think I'll be able to sleep without feeling like I've got someone watching my back and.."
"I know," he said. "Yeah, that's fine. I get it."
He walked ahead of me several paces, I couldn't tell but he sounded pissed off. Maybe I shouldn't have asked. Maybe it was too much too soon. It'd been years, we've both changed since we saw each other last. We're both broken with trust issues. He probably didn't want someone who was basically a stranger to him now sleeping in the same bed.
He lead me through the base to the Sergeant's quarters and then flicked on a light with the switch by the door. He gestured for me to come in and join him and when I did he closed the door and locked it behind us. He walked over to the dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and some boxers before handing them to me and showing me where his private bathroom was. I walked in and closed the door behind me, taking a deep breath. I'm okay. Everything is okay. Deep breaths. I looked around be bathroom. There was a game York used to have me do, it was something he used to do with one of his sisters who used to get panic attacks.
"Five things I can see," I breathed.
I looked around the bathroom. Wash always had a green thumb. He taught me how to care for the pot plants I had in my own room back on the Mother of Invention so it came as no surprised to find several in his bath tub. The sergeants quarters also seemed to have a bath for some reason. Over on the sink, despite faking his death and having minimal access to the outside world Wash still used the same apple scented body wash. York and North used to tease him over his feminine scent. There was a scarcely used razor sitting beside his shaving foam can.
Plants, bath, body wash, shaving foam, razor.
"Four things I can touch," I breathed. I leaned back against the door. It was cold, made of metal. I held my hands against my sides. I felt the slight ribs in the texture of my jeans. I slowly brought my hands up to rest on my collar bones, if I was in my uniform this is where I'd pull the armour plates down slightly to make myself feel like I could breath again, despite them not actually inhibiting me in the slightest. I slid my hands down again to rest on my body just under my shirt so I could feel myself breathing in and out.
Door, jeans, shirt collar, skin.
"Three things I can hear," I breathed.
I lay my head back against the door again and closed my eyes. The faucet over at the bathtub needed a washer change, it was dripping ever second creating a rhythmic beat to breathe to. The water in the pipes whirled and whooshed around in the walls around me. Every now and then they rattled, like something was shaking them. Outside, I could hear Wash pacing, like he did when he was nervous. I couldn't blame him. I let out a deep exhale, feeling the breath come out my nose.
Dripping tap, creaking pipes, Wash pacing.
"Two things I can smell," I breathed.
That one wasn't hard. The roof was thick with the smell of semi-wet soil from Wash's pot places. The other thing I could smell was weird though, why could I smell hot crayons?
"Once thing I can taste," I took a deep breath. My hair was still wet. The smell of regulation shampoo filled the air so strongly I could taste it. I smiled to myself, this was getting easier. I could control this. I can manage. I can be me.
I walked over to the bathroom sink and looked at myself. I saw all the scars and marks and bruises, including the ones on my neck that were just forming. Wash was gonna pay for that. At least I knew he'd treat potential threats properly. I pulled my own jacket and shirt over my head and then pulled Wash's much bugger one over my head. Then I bent down to untie my shoes and tugged off my jeans, pulling the boxers on instead. I folded my clothes quickly before heading to the door. I pulled it open and smiled as I saw the anxious Wash still pacing.
He turned when he realised I'd left the bathroom. He paused, looking at me like he was almost frightened about what was about to happen. I offered him a soft smiled before making the first moved. I walked over to the bed, climbing onto it and then looking over to him. He was watching me, motionless. I patted the bed softly and as if was on auto pilot, mind still reeling, he walked over and sat beside me.
"Everything okay?" I asked him. He choked slightly and tried to pass it off as clearing his throat.
"Yeah," he replied. "This just wasn't where I saw my night going." I chuckled.
Washington POV
Several hours in and I couldn't sleep. The room was in complete darkness, save for the light blue light strips that illuminated the floor. I could barely see the girl sleeping soundly in m arms, but I could feel the soft, semi-dry strands of her hair beneath my fingertips as I ran them down it. I remembered the first time I met her, really met her. All the times South played pranks on her, all our missions together. I thought back over all the time I'd known her, when we were children and she saved my ass from bullies time and time over. How could she be so strong and still get knocked down? She was stronger than me, maybe not physically, but with her skill she could still kick my ass. She might not have been at the top of the leader board but she was still the strongest out of all of us. All the things she'd endured, come back from. The fact that she's still coming back from them.
I remembered when the Mother of Invention had docked on New Alexandria. It was the first time I'd been back since my family moved when I was 12. York, Wyoming, Tex and North had gone out with me, wandering the streets to get a feel for the place I'd barely missed and then stopped to get take out on the way back. York still couldn't cook for shit. Barely aware of it at the time, a girl had been running full pelt towards us and it only became apparent when she slammed into Tex and sent the two of them flying into the ground.
She was a skinny street kid with wild blonde hair sticking up all around her. Her jeans were ripped, though it looked to be stylistically so, to match with her belly shirt I imagine. For someone who later told us that she'd been in UNICOM for two years before that she didn't hold much muscle. She'd grazed her arms and palms in the fall. Poor girl didn't even get the chance to regain herself and apologise before Tex rounded on her. The said freelancer had taken a step back away from the door of the takeout shop to let someone get past when the street kid had slammed into her.
"What the fuck, were you thinking, you little shit?! You come flying, out of nowhere, and crash into me, and nearly other people. You don't even fucking apologise!" Tex said through punches.
"Hey! I didn't even get a fucking chance to, you stupid bitch. In case you didn't notice you're sitting on top of me trying to break my face!"
The small blond girl had her arms up covering her face blocking punches while she yelled at the freelancer she had just met. She rolled over the top of Tex and started punching her through her angered speech. Tex had both of her arms up blocking Hampshire's hits and arched her back standing up causing Newbie to fall off her and hit the ground again.
"What the fuck were you even running from?" Tex questioned as she kicked the girl in the stomach across the other side of the sidewalk.
She forward rolled into a standing position and roundhouse kicked Tex in the face sending the agent flying into a lamp post. Tex leapt up and front flipped over to her and put her fists up, standing in a fighting stance once again. The girl did the same walking around the freelancer with her fists up and battle glare on.
"What makes you think I was running from something?" She smirked.
She threw a punch at Texas who blocked with one hand and in return swung her opposing leg in the blond girl's direction. She also blocked and used her weight to force Tex onto the ground sat on top of her again punching her in the torso. Tex flipped on her feet again sending Newbie up to her feet also. At which point North and York took to restraining Tex and Wash and Wyoming grabbed the girl by her arms. Tex fought against them but not as much as Newbie.
"Okay ladies, that was a jolly good fight but that's enough now," Wyoming told them.
"What are you doing!? I can handle this!" Tex yelled.
"Calm down Tex. We don't want to act rash now do we?" York soothed whilst restraining the fighting Tex.
"AAAAAAAAGH LET GO OF ME! I'm takin' this bitch DOWN!" Newbie screamed while thrashing against mine and Wyoming's hold, swinging and kicking her legs in an attempt to get free. Putting her legs back in the ground Newbie began tugging from side to side and worked up enough strength to pull Wyoming down to the ground and throw me backwards also onto the ground.
"Aaagh!" She screamed.
"Diana?" North asked whilst pinning down Tex who was slowly losing the desire to fight.
"North Dakota?" She asked in return.
"You two know each other?" I asked, sitting on the pavement rubbing my now thoroughly bruised buttocks.
"Diana's been trying to be a freelancer," North explained, not really answering the question.
"Oh well that makes sense. All the freelancer girls are overly aggressive bitches," York said beside Tex who gave him the evil eyes.
"With a performance like that I'm surprised she isn't one already," Wyoming said sore from hitting the hard concrete.
"Exactly. And it's not like I don't have military training," Dianna agreed with him. "I dropped out of high school early so I could pursue a military career."
"That's kinda dumb. The military would have waited you know," I said without thinking.
"I wasn't going to graduate anyway. Don't get me wrong. It's not because I'm not smart or anything, my dad died is all. I mean I could handle moving planets but now I marooned here," she mumbled the last bit.
"So you thought that they wouldn't take you if you didn't graduate?" I asked wanting to know more.
"No I thought I'd end up as a sim trooper if I failed." she said matter-of-factly. "I worked so hard on my physical condition all on my own. And when I was 16 I signed up for the army. Two fucking years before they figured out I was underage."
"So they kicked you out?" I asked another dumb question.
"Yeah but I'm going to get back in. Not for any Nobel reasons or anything, I'm going to find my parents," Newbie replied.
"I thought you said your dad died." York commented, confused.
"Yeah mom's dead as well but they didn't say good by so they're not really gone." Newbie explained. "They were both military you see."
"So being a freelancer is your way of being close to your family." North continued.
"Yeah, well my dad mainly. I never really new my mom. She died when I was just a baby so I never really knew her, I'd like to get to know her now though. And, I want to defend the families. So many people out there with nobody because this fucking war tore them apart."
"Sounds like a pretty noble reason to me." North said putting a hand on her upper back.