Don't Write Me A Postscript
Caboose unwrapped himself from around Church and carefully laid his best friend down. He looked over to Agent Washingtub who snoozed against the wall he'd settled down into and smiled. Everyone needed a rest, and it was a good thing Caboose convinced them to rest for a little while. Now though they'd rested enough—Caboose could remember that Washingchurch felt their travel plans were important. Caboose looked forward to those travel plans. Perhaps he could make new friends?
At any rate first things first was off to gather up his and Church's armor. Caboose ambled through the safe places of the not-quite-home Church built up—home was still Blood Gulch as they'd not quite found a new-home to build into, although they really should now that Caboose thought about it—and once he'd arrived at the armor cleaning place Caboose pulled out the pieces one by one. He hummed to himself as he put on the power suit, everything in it's proper place because Church needed sleep and therefore Church didn't need to help Caboose.
Once Caboose was dressed, and he admired how brightly blue his armor looked with a pleased hum, he piled up Church's armor and began the precarious process of bringing it to Church's room. Caboose couldn't quite see over the pieces that he carried, balance a little off but still manageable, but he had a perfect memory for things like this. Without incident Caboose returned to Church's room and set the armor down on the edge of the bed.
Humming a song that Caboose could barely remember—something from before, long ago, when he lived on the farm with his sisters and brother and mom—he began to pull the armor onto Church. His bestest friend needed the sleep. Until he didn't need it anymore Caboose could easily take care of things like dressing Church, carrying Church, and making sure Church's newest body remained functional. Caboose liked this new body. It was much more Church than the one he killed was.
From his peripheral Caboose noted that Churchwash began to wake up. While he'd prefer Agent to sleep more, Caboose couldn't find it in himself to be that quiet. So for now he ignored the older man and pieced together Church's armor with pleasure. Once everything, including the nice helmet that was not-better-on-a-top-ten-list Caboose stepped back. He nodded to himself, happy with his work, and started out of the room again.
"Where are you going?" Agent Wash questioned, voice still a little blurred with sleep.
"Church has stuff," Caboose said plainly. "He will be mad if we left without it." Without waiting for Washchurch to reply Caboose left the room. He knew exactly where Church liked to keep his things, and easily found the room where Church pretended his stuff didn't exist. Caboose ignored Agent as he followed.
Church wouldn't mind this one seeing his super-secret room, Caboose just knew that. Just like he knew that Church was really his bestest friend in the whole world even if Church said mean things. It was how Church showed he cared, Caboose knew that. With a pleased hum Caboose piled in the things Church would want into a crate that he could easily affix to his back to carry. The letters that were settled onto a bench, things that Church would insist were for Caboose but were really for Church to care for Caboose—like the breathing tanks and the foul-tasting medicines that helped things feel a little right for a little while—and then the map and the few small pictures that Church coveted. Once he had everything Caboose meandered out of the secret room and back to Church's room.
Carefully, because Caboose didn't want to wake Church up, not yet, Caboose cradled Church into his arms and turned around to view Agent Washingtub who stared at him, helmet still missing, and mouth agape. After a second of just looking at one another—were they having a staring contest? Caboose was great at those—Washington seemed to shake himself out of whatever it was that he was doing. Caboose lamented the end of the staring contest for half-a-second.
"Shouldn't we wake him?" Washingchurch questioned as he pulled on his helmet.
"No," Caboose said, and that was that. He waited, patiently, for the other man to sigh and lead them out of the not-really-home base. They had places to be after all, and it'd take a while to travel there. It took about a month to get from Rhodam and Blood Gulch to Valricht and Rats Nest after all, and if Caboose were right then they were going back to Rhodam and Blood Gulch.
Caboose looked forward to it. Perhaps they'd finally find a new home to settle into, and Church could go back to being happy and surrounded by people like he wanted. Caboose wanted that too.
Church didn't wake up for the first two days leg of their journey and it left Agent Washington concerned. He tried to bring those concerns up to Caboose who deftly rebuffed him and continued to cradle and take care of the unconscious sim trooper. Wash was left to flounder along, worried about the nature of the slumbering man, and worried about Caboose's mentality since finding him. On the third day, before they finally arrived at Rats Nest and their ride off the planet, Church finally did wake up.
At first Church sounded loudly upset about Caboose holding him, but Washington notice how he didn't actually fight Caboose off for the next hour. Then Church seemed to explode into motion and flailed to the ground with curses and yells that at first were completely half-hearted. When he bounced back up it was to read Caboose the riot act for letting him sleep so long. Honestly Washington found the pair more amusing than anything. Despite the setback the outburst caused Wash found himself for the rest of the way to Rats Nest with a smile on his face.
Once they reached the entrance into the underground base Church seemed to pause and stare for long enough that Washington turned around.
"Where are we going?" Church questioned. Not once since he woke up did the other man even ask that, and Wash was rather surprised. It seemed entirely against Church's nature to be so easy going with where Washington lead them.
"To Outpost 17," Wash said. He watched the way Church stiffened, and how Caboose settled a hand on the slighter man's shoulder.
"You found Tex's ship," Church said softly.
"We haven't been able to confirm that yet," Agent Washington said as gently as he could. "UNSC has the site on lockdown." Washington paused, and then said, "We think there might have been an incident with the Omega AI."
"And the UNSC isn't handing it over to Freelancer?" Church questioned. Caboose's hand on Church's shoulder turned into a hug that the man barely noticed. "If it's suspected Freelancer bullshit then why—"
Washington grimaced. "Project Freelancer is…not in the UNSC's good graces right now. Too many questions, not enough answers."
Church let out a hiss and leaned against Caboose's chest.
"Valhalla is back on Rhodam," Church said bitterly. "That's about a months fucking ship flight from here. Who is to say that the site won't be cleaned up by then?"
Washington crossed his arms and shook his head. "Technically the site is in jurisdictional limbo right now. Freelancer's control over any of it's assets has yet to be officially revoked. However, by that same token the UNSC does not want to release Freelancer property in case the investigation into the project turns out to be…damning."
Church ducked his head and mumbled, "And that could take months, years…."
"Exactly," Washington nodded. "The hope is that the UNSC will grant us access to the site thanks to your previous frequent interaction with the Omega AI. You two will be integral in determining if we do have an incident like what happened at Blood Gulch to contend with or not."
"And you get the chance to recover some shiny Freelancer tech right under the UNSC's nose," Church retorted dryly.
"I will admit the thought had crossed my mind," Washington agreed lightly. "Come on, our pelican should be waiting for us at the Rats Nest landing pad." Washington started moving again, stepped into the lighting of the manmade tunnel.
Church and Caboose did not follow. Instead Caboose stood at the entrance; he shifted from foot to foot and fiddled with his hands in a nervous habit that Church hadn't seen in quite some time. Church frowned from beneath his helmet.
"Caboose?" he said, and Agent Washington stopped.
"Er," Caboose shuffled. "Maybe, uhm, maybe Church and I should wait here. For the birdie. And Agent Washingtub. And not enter into the base. That is a good idea."
"The planet's gravitational pull means that there are only a few specified spots where a pelican can safely enter the atmosphere and land," Washington pointed out. "Rats Nest has a safe tunnel, and unfortunately no escape into the atmosphere beyond that tunnel."
Church crossed his arms. "Alright, what's the big deal then? Why do you not want to go into the base."
Caboose hemmed and hawed for a moment. "Maybe, uh, maybe it is not a good idea. For me to be seen in the base. Or seen by the Captain. Or seen at all. Maybe that is not such a good idea."
Church slapped a hand to his visor and groaned. "What did you do."
Caboose shuffled. "There might be a few times where. Ah, where someone has died. The Captain wasn't too…pleased with that."
Washington utterly stilled. He'd forgotten about that. Shit. Exhaustedly he runs a hand across his visor and tried to think of a way around this. The Captain wouldn't have to deal with Caboose for long, after all, maybe he could swing it as just passing through since they were? Their pelican should arrive soon anyway.
Caboose continued into Church's silence and Washington's contemplation, "And maybe they uh, with the upset and the broken cars and tanks and no Shiela's, ah, maybe they put me in a time out box. And took my gun. And tied me up. For a few days."
"Did they really," Church said, and his voice has gone that ice, calm sort of cold that made Caboose hunch his shoulders.
"Yes," Caboose said, and Washington paled beneath his armor at the implications. "That is, that is a thing that happened, yes."
"Well then," Church responded. He turned to face Wash who swallowed heavily. Something about the cold, calm demeanor made Wash nervous. "I think we best get inside Rats Nest and get off this godforsaken planet soon."
Washington swallowed. "That's a great idea, Private," he said. He kept his tone even, tried not to let his anxiety show. Caboose shuffled and slumped down and followed after the group dejectedly as Wash started to lead them back into Rats Nest.
"And while we wait," Church said, and his voice took an almost sinister tone, "I think I'll speak with this Captain."
Washington wanted to cry. This did not bode well at all.
Everything went out of control in fairly short order. Church vibrated with an intense fury he hadn't felt in a long time; a slow burning flame that twisted through his non-existent gut in ways far different from the quickfire temper he usually had. As soon as they stepped into the base proper and were greeted with the first sentry—a young man who let out a terrified yelp and said something about a demon—that slow burning flame ignited into a roaring bonfire.
(how dare they)
Church seethed. He cold-cocked the bastard who insulted Caboose and shot him point blank into the foot. Agent Washington jerked forward with a shout, and then looked to Caboose who shuffled nervously, but Church already moved into the base. He ignored the fools screams and stormed past the entrance.
(how dare they)
At the yell of the Blue sentry the entire base seemed to gather in the garage, surrounded by broken and still aflame vehicles. They raised their weapons at Church and glanced between each other, and beneath his visor Church grinned. With an efficiency not portrayed at Blood Gulch Church moved, weaved through man after man and brought them down with nonlethal shots even as Agent Washington raced to stop him.
(how fucking dare they)
Church's rampage ended with the Captain held point blank at his service riffle, his firing hand bleeding from a bullet wound.
"I am only going to say this once," Church said as Washington danced around the groaning downed bodies. "You had better pray that all of your future shipments are supplies and not men or new orders because I can guarantee you, you will not be going home from this base unless it is in a body bag."
"Private Church!" Agent Washington screamed out at the threat and doubled his pace.
"Am I understood?" Church questioned as one of the Blues tried to grab Washington and inadvertently tripped him.
"Listen son," the man said slowly. "I don't know what beef you have with me, but if you think I will take the threat from some lowly Private—" Church cocked the gun and Captain Weathers stilled.
"Trust me," Church hissed, "I have the means."
Captain Weathers swallowed, opened his mouth to say something, and then froze when the behemoth that was Caboose stepped up and carefully grabbed the riffle out of Church's hands. Church didn't even shift at the sudden proximity of the taller man, or at the loss of his weapon.
"Church," Caboose said, and his voice was soft as he spoke. It barely trembled. "You need to stop being scary now. Agent Washingtub is upset."
"I am upset, Caboose," Church said.
mineminemineminemine
howdaretheyhowdaretheyhowdaretheyhowdarethey
(I'll kill them)
(I'll kill them all)
"Yes but," Caboose fumbled for his words. "You are scary." Church blinked and turned his head. "I do not like scary Church. He is mean."
Church clenched his fists, and then nodded once. He turned and walked away from Captain Weathers and headed toward the landing pad for the pelican to wait. Caboose looked down at Captain Weathers and pursed his lips.
"You are mean too," Caboose said plainly, and then stepped away to help Agent Washington up and lead him through the sea of bodies. The riffle in his hand went off just as they crossed the floor of the garage and suddenly the entire base filled with shouting.
Church glanced back only once as Washington and Caboose settled next to them, Washington seethed and Caboose shuffled nervously. He looked to Captain Weathers who collapsed to the floor, a neat little hole in his visor. He glanced to Caboose who handed him his riffle, and then to Washington.
"Do not do that again," Wash rasped out.
"Noted," Church replied blandly and didn't bother to push Caboose away as the taller man draped over him like a wet limpet. "You can't say they didn't deserve it, though."
Washington floundered. The roar of the pelicans engines drowned out whatever response he gave, but Church knew easily that the other man felt just as enraged by the injustice as Church did. Church knew if given half the chance Wash would have put a bullet between the eyes of every serviceman here. Really Church did them a favor; they didn't need to be massacred by Agent Washington. He doubted they'd make the same mistakes again.
They boarded the pelican in silence, and Church let the rage escape from him like water through his fingers. He leaned against Caboose and sighed tiredly. Holding that much anger for as long as he did drained him. It was like Church pulled upon a part of himself long severed, a jagged edge in his mind that had been soothed over poorly with a patch job that barely held together. Caboose, like always, seemed to know just what he needed; Church felt himself drift off into static.
