I'm so happy everyone's looking forward to a Red Team story! I really feel like I should write more of them, they're a lot of fun to write for and I just love the dynamics. Hopefully some of that translates into portraying said dynamics well lol We'll see!
Special thanks to secretlystephaniebrown, analiarvb, AriRashkae, a_taller_tale, CutiePi, staininspace, and Yin for the feedback on tumblr and AO3!
Glory to the Red Army
Log Two
Donut was not entirely sure who told the Blues about their plans, but Wash and Tucker were by the Warthog at the crack of dawn when Red Team was getting ready to depart.
It was odd because Donut had only told Caboose the night before so that the Blue could watch and clean the house the Reds were occupying. And Donut just could never imagine Caboose sharing secrets unless, of course, it was by accident.
Accidents happened.
Washington looked disgruntled, alert, and flabbergasted all at once as he stared down Sarge. Tucker looked like a terrible combination of annoyed and only recently rolled out of bed.
"A road trip?" Washington asked the team. "Really? You think that's a good idea?"
"You're presuming they think, Wash," Tucker grouched.
"Hey, your mom seemed to think it was a good idea last night," Grif snapped from the driver's seat.
Moving his glare to Grif, Wash crossed his arms. "That was rude and uncalled for. And also lazy."
"It's not my finest work, but it'll do, Wash," Grif retorted.
"We don't need our finest for Blues!" Simmons defended. He then nervously teetered back and forth in his seat before lowly mumbling. "Um. Of course no offense, Wash."
At that, Washington sunk his face into his hands and let out a long sigh. "There. Are not. Teams!" he stressed.
"Yeah, how many times do we have to go through this revelation?" Tucker groaned. "It's getting ridiculous."
Sarge immediately got behind the gatling gun. "The only thin ridiculous around here is that there are Dirty Blues daring to stand in Red Territory! he howled.
"Yeah!" Donut called out gleefully behind Wash and Tucker, making both of the Blues jump in surprise.
Tucker breathed heavily before putting a hand over his heart. "Holy shit, Donut! It's too early for jump scares."
Not deterred, Donut continued on his approach to the Warthog, neatly tying his well-prepared picnic basket to the rest of the luggage and supplies. "And not to be pointing fingers or anything," Donut began in his sing-song tune.
Wash stared expectantly. "But?"
"But I only came up with the road trip because you Big Blue meanies weren't really hanging out with us that much anymore!" he declared.
"And the most logical response to this perceived situation is to go on a dangerous romp around a planet's terrain we barely know?" Wash asked critically.
"Yeah, because we all know the safest place to be is around you guys and the constant barrage of Blue Team problems you take with you," Grif snorted dismissively. "No thanks, I'll stick to Donut's stupid as fuck field trip."
"Hear that, Blues?" Sarge chuckled. "The boys and I are done with your evil Blue Reign of Terror! We're taking control of the Red Army's destiny for ourselves! Ha ha! It will bring Red Team honor and glory like a Dirty Blue couldn't even begin to comprehend!"
The two Blues stared at them in silence for a moment and Donut shrugged before climbing onto the back of the Warthog, grinning ear to ear to sit next to Lopez. The robot gave out a melodramatic sigh in Spanish.
"This is officially the dumbest thing you've ever dragged me out of bed for, Wash," Tucker announced. "I got dressed to talk this nonsense through with these people. How the hell can you repay me for that?"
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Wash groaned. "You know what? You're right, Tucker. This is time wasted instead of resting." He looked wearily toward Sarge. "Just do everyone a favor and keep your radio open. We'll be monitoring it for when you need us to come and save you."
"Ha, as if!" Sarge chuckled before pointing forward. "Floor it, Grif!"
"For once, Sir? You've got it," Grif replied before shifting gears and doing just that.
Donut jumped up with the very first bump they hit and felt his smile just explode across his face.
Flipping around to his knees, ignoring as he nearly shoved Lopez to the side, Donut rested his elbows on the backs of Grif and Simmons' seats. He looked eagerly between the two of them.
"This is going to be so great!" Donut preened. "And it was so nice of Agent Washington to offer to have our backs."
"Yeah, he's a real peach," Grif grumbled.
Before Donut could ask for elaboration, there was a shot and the radio exploded to everyone's screaming horror. Grif barely kept them on the trail.
They all looked back to Sarge in horror.
"Oopsie," Sarge replied with no hint of regret in his voice at all.
Donut blinked while Grif and Simmons shared a knowing look. Donut just hoped that the music still worked or else it was going to be a very long trip of trying to convince Lopez to play polka over his radio for them instead.
As the trip stretched into its sixth hour with only twice as many stops since they had left the Red Team home base, Donut began to wonder if Lopez's constant audible sighing discounted him from the title of "only one not talking" on the trip.
It also raised more than a few good questions about robots and the actual effort he would have had to put into forcing himself to audibly sigh just to let them all know his opinion on the whole thing.
"I just don't see why you guys can't play your usual roadtrip games," Donut offered for what felt like the hundredth time on the trip.
"And I keep telling you, Donut, that we can't!" Simmons cried out, as if Donut was the one being unreasonable.
"Do you see any street signs in this middle of this goddamn jungle?" Grif demanded. "Ergo, no fucking Boner Street!"
"Maybe we should talk about worst super powers–"
"NO."
Donut hummed and leaned back in his seat, fingers tapping on the chin of his helmet. "Gosh, you guys sure are making this difficult!"
"It's not nearly as difficult as having to go on this stupid-as-fuck road trip thanks to you," Grif replied viciously.
Frowning, Donut straightened up in his seat and looked seriously at his orange wearing teammate. "I'm not forcing you to do this trip, Grif."
"But I am!" Sarge snapped, still standing at the gatling gun, ready to fire at the first sign of an enemy. Or for Grif to be far enough away from the fuel tank. He swirled around to look at the three of them in the front of the vehicle. "Boys, I'm giving you an official cease and desist order."
"So we can stop driving?" Grif asked thinly.
"So you can stop complaining, numb nuts!" Sarge snapped. "And stop monkeying around! This trip is the greatest idea that Donut has ever given Red Team!"
"Thanks, Sarge!" Donut beamed.
"Yeah, okay, like that's a big list," Simmons muttered petulantly.
"What is wrong with you two lately!?" Sarge cried out. "Can't you see that we're reforming Red Team to its former spectacular glory? That this opportunity is testing our merits and proving our superiority over even Mother Nature herself? This is our final line! This is our big chance! Our one opportunity to show the world how impressive and noble and grand it is to be a member of the Red Army!"
Grif loudly tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as they pressed forward. "You mean that thing that never actually existed? Yeah. Sure. Let's celebrate that!"
"Just let it go, Grif," Simmons sighed.
Without further warning, Grif skidded the warthog to a stop and sent them all swerving to the side.
"Grif! What in sam hill!?" Sarge bellowed.
"I can't let this go!" Grif cried out. "Jesus christ! How can all of you just act like we didn't almost die? For real? For nothing! For people we barely even know!?" He looked at them all, shoulders shaking. "That someone we've been friends with for years is actually gone for good and not coming back!?"
They all stared at him in silence for a long moment, everyone varying degrees of shocked at the outburst.
"Manera de arruinar el estado de ánimo," Lopez spoke up.
"Grif," Simmons let out in a long sigh.
"Don't Grif me!" he snapped. "I know I can't be the only one of you who realize how messed up and wrong this is!"
Sarge tilted his head. "Who died?"
Blinking some himself, Donut looked back to their leader. "I think he's referring to Church, Sarge!" he explained.
"What?" Sarge responded before looking at Grif utterly baffled. "Grif! Stop talking nonsense! You're as nutty as a peanut brittle! Or one of those always complaining Blues! How many times has Church showed up after being dead? Too many! No funeral this time even."
"I think we just didn't want to upset the AI by having a funeral for him, Sarge," Simmons clarified.
"Yeah, Sarge, I'm pretty sure he's dead for good," Donut sighed, rubbing his neck.
"Hogwash," Sarge huffed. "Still, that would mean that Blue Team has less members than Red Team again! Which would at the very least mean that Church died a most noble death: sacrificing himself in the name of Red Team superiority."
"Hey! You're right!" Donut nodded, ignoring the uncomfortable shift Simmons made away from them. "That's a way to find silver lining, Sarge!"
Grif set his jaw, teeth gritting."I just want it remembered that you guys are sick,sick bastards," he snapped. "Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you guys?"
"Everyone processes things differently," Simmons muttered only to be silenced by a single look from Grif.
"Hey, you know what?" Donut asked, looking around as he stood up in his chair. "This is actually a great little clearing!" He looked to Sarge more specifically. "What do you think, Sarge? Will it be alright to set up camp, you think?"
"No hay nadie más cuenta de que los tocones de los árboles son frescos?" Lopez asked darkly. "La gente ha estado aquí recientemente. Hay que tener cuidado."
"Aw, Lopez, you don't have to volunteer to put up the tent all by yourself!" Donut grinned.
The robot let out a loud, audible sigh.
"Then it's settled! We're staying here for the night! Good call, Donut!" Sarge yelled, finally releasing his vice grip on the gatling gun and jumping down from the jeep. "Now if you'll excuse me! I have to see a man about a dog!"
Lopez grunted and began to remove the supplies tied to the back and Simmons muttered under his breath about small bladders before racing off to the opposite treeline of Sarge.
Grif just gripped tighter to the steering wheel.
Donut moved toward the picnic basket he had packed but paused, looking back at his teammate.
"I know you don't like outdoorsy stuff, Grif," Donut reasoned. "But I really did just want to do this for the better of, y'know, everyone. I think it'll be good for us. Especially you and Sarge."
Grif didn't even look his way so Donut sighed and grabbed his basket.
"Well, when you're feeling more like it, I've got some stuff to make s'mores–"
Suddenly Donut's vision was obscured by Grif's open hand.
"Hand it over," Grif grunted.
Donut grinned and did just that.