This is my next chapter. I hope that you like it. It worries me how much I like writing Wash going crazy. This is actually the first chapter that wasn't betaed by my brother so it might not be the best chapter, but I'm satisfied with it.
I don't own RedvsBlue.
Once again, the darkness that overtook him was not comforting. Epsilon made sure of that.
The AI kept screaming at him in his head. Begging him to help him, and as Wash kept refusing, Epsilon kept making the nightmares worse.
"You have to help," the program sobbed. "You're the only one who knows what they've done. The only one who can make sure the truth gets out."
Wash shook his head and moved his mouth as if to form words but none came out.
"You have to help me!" Epsilon demanded his hologram growing bigger and turning red. "You have to!"
Wash wished they would have done a better job of knocking him out. All he wanted was the sweet blissful peace of feeling nothing at all. Of being asleep in a place where your thoughts and worries couldn't follow. Of complete oblivion.
Of course that was apparently too much to ask.
The AI's thoughts still merged with his, and visions of the mysterious Allison still raced through his mind causing feelings of deep longing and loss stronger than he thought possible flooded his subconscious.
He was still getting flashes that he couldn't quite understand. Visions of men in lab coats haunted his mind bringing with them pain, danger, and loss.
They were clearer than they had been before, but Wash couldn't analyze them. Not with his AI causing him hell.
Wash was tired of this. He didn't want to be here, and he had no clue what the Hell he could have done to deserve this.
He wanted to run away, but no matter how much he moved his legs, he couldn't seem to move.
Suddenly a voice seemed to break through the darkness. A voice that wasn't Epsilons.
Wash strained his ears and tried to listen to the voice wondering who it could possibly be.
The voice sounded familiar. It was calm and kind, a welcome change from Epsilon's harsh, grating voice.
Whoever it was started talking more and Wash could start to make out some of the words.
"Hey Wash? You feeling any better?" the voice asked. It took Wash a bit, but he finally recognized the voice as North's.
The grey and yellow freelancer turned to where he thought North's voice was coming from, and tried to muster out a response, but before he could, he was pulled back by some unseen force.
"You were out for about a week. Is Epsilon doing any better?" he heard North asked.
The Spartan tried to shake loose of whatever kept him immobile and talk with North, but found he was unable.
Suddenly, Wash couldn't hear anything. Epsilon had left him and so had North's voice.
Wash was finally alone, and yet, he couldn't enjoy it. He had a horrible feeling that something was going wrong, and that he was going to be involved in it somehow.
The headaches were getting worse, and Wash wanted so badly to escape the pain. He thrashed and fought as hard as he could, but he couldn't seem to break free.
The bond just seemed to disappear and the grey and yellow freelancer was finally able to wake up.
He sat up, ignoring the wave of nausea that hit him when he tried to do so.
He looked over to his side and saw he had been right about the voice belonging to North.
The nausea was getting to be too much for him, and Wash suddenly couldn't remember what the heck was going on.
"Where am I?" he inquired looking desperately at his friend for answers. "What's going…."
Before he could finish his sentence, he heard Epsilon whisper, "I'm sorry," and a pain like he had never felt before flooded his brain.
It felt like a thousand tiny suns were simultaneously exploding in his skull and all of the AIs thoughts seemed to melt into his brain.
Wash screamed and screamed until his throat burned and his voice went hoarse.
His AI had exploded! Epsilon had killed himself! Wash could swear he felt what he guessed was Epsilon's remains inside of his brain.
He was vaguely aware that the medics were back and were surrounding him, talking in worried tones that Wash no longer cared to listen too.
He felt them remove whatever was left of Epsilon and he sighed in relief at the loss.
Unfortunately, they could never remove the trauma of what had just transpired.
