Where Is Home?

Chapter 9: Maine-Bear

Description: Carwash Sibling AU. Instead of simply beating Agent Washington to a living pulp, Locus captures him along with Agent Carolina, leaving the Blood Gulch Crew without their Freelancers. Now captured, Agents Carolina and Washington must work together in order to survive against the mercenary's, but that's hard to do when an unethical type of torture is used on the young duo. How can they will themselves to escape, when their captors are reminding them more and more of their childhood?

A/N: *Comes crashing out of the wall* gUESS WHAT I'M NOT DEAD AND THIS CHAPTER IS LONG AS DICKS BUT I DON'T CARE, Y'ALL DESERVE A LONG ASS CHAPTER! Also, I go back to school on Tuesday, so the next update might take awhile, but whatever. It's 12:12 at night and I'm literally so fucking tired. If you guys got ideas, tell 'em to me in the comments, please. I'd love to make you guys happy! Please R&R!


"Alright... so how is this going to work, Captain?" Doyle asks, looking to Tucker with deep concern written into his features. "How should I and Mi- General Kimball proceed?"

Tucker rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to chuckle. "Dude, it's not like they're gonna bite you or anything... okay, they might, but it's unlikely. Pretty sure that was a Junior-only thing."

"Junior?" Kimball repeats, meaning in her voice as she stares at Tucker, just as confused as Doyle with the given situation. "And who exactly is 'Junior'?"

"Aw, did I never tell you about Junior!?" Tucker questions, horrified that this is Junior's first mentioning. "Man, you dudes are missing out! Junior is my son," He says, pulling out a small, undamaged picture of a teal/dark blue Elite in a basketball jersey, surrounded by what look like human middle schoolers in matching basketball uniforms. "See? He's the super tall alien in the back! He's the team's star player, obviously." He looks so proud of himself as he says it, a wide grin on his face.

"Er... you reproduced?" Doyle sounds out, floored by the news. "Well, I never expected to see such a thing in my lifetime... nor desired to."

Tucker puts the picture away, after glancing at it himself, and straightens, giving Kimball a meaningful look. He hates leaving Kimball, Doyle, and the armies to watch Washington and Carolina by themselves, but they can't win a war with all eyes on the Freelancers. But Tucker believes in them; if they can handle almost a decade worth of civil war, than they can handle babysitting two Freelancers for a week or so. After all, it can't be THAT hard, right? Sure, the Reds have been watching over them the most, but Tucker figures it can't be THAT difficult to babysit them. With this in mind, he pulls on his helmet, but not before flashing the generals one last smirk. He turns then, looking towards where the Reds are all piled into a Warthog, along with Caboose, who has Epsilon in his armor. They'll be back soon. Tucker's not going to let himself die out there; he won't be the next friend to abandon Wash.

"Well... I guess this is where I leave to kick some ass," Tucker announces, patting Doyle somewhat awkwardly on the shoulder. "Good luck or whatever."

"Wait!" Doyle begs, grabbing Tucker's arm so that the teal trooper can't leave. "What do we do about the Freelancers!? How will we properly care for them!?"

"Dude, get go," Tucker orders, uncomfortable with being so suddenly grasped. Doyle complies, muttering a small 'Sorry'. "You've still got Dr. Grey here until we clear the Pirates out, right? Just get the info from her and you'll be just fine. Later, fuckers!"

With that said, Tucker runs off, leaving Kimball and Doyle in the dust. They exchange a look as the Warthogs drive off- several Feds and Rebels accompanying the Reds and Blues- both concerned and uncertain of what to do. "... I guess we should go find Dr. Grey then. It's still early, so Carolina and Washington shouldn't be up for another four or five hours."

Doyle nods his head in agreement. "Yes, perhaps we should seek out Emily for some sort of... advice." He replies, following after Kimball as she leads him into a parked Warthog, one that's unequipped with any weapons.

Kimball climbs into the drivers seat, while Doyle takes the passenger seat. They drive in utter silence, both too nervous and anxious to try for any sort of normal conversation. It's hard after years and years of civil war to suddenly be partners, and Kimball and Doyle are both still bitter rivals, to a certain degree of course. They would never try to kill each other- at least, not while the Pirates are still at large- but the tension between them could fill up an eight book long series and pass off as a best seller. Needless to say, they have some kinks to work out, and neither are really willing to make that first move. It's not that Kimball hates Doyle- because out of context they could very likely get along, despite being polar opposites- because she doesn't, it's just that it's very difficult to get along with someone that she has learned to demonize in her mind. After all, you can't fight a war if the enemy is just like you; human and afraid to die.

Doyle feels similarly to Kimball. He likes her quite a bit even. Kimball is brave, determined, young, rebellious, and heroic. Everything that Doyle fails to see in himself. He actually is a bit brave, when you think about it, but he's not about to believe that anytime soon, and neither is Kimball for that matter. So, for now, despite all they have in common and not in common, they will be forced to hate each other, one way or another. The awkward drive is, thankfully, short-lived, and the twosome soon find themselves at Armonia's public library, which Dr. Grey, as of late, has claimed to be her place of residence as she studies up on regression and infantilism. It's a slow-coming research project, but Emily Grey will be damned if she can't figure out how the Freelancers tick and how to help them recover.

After parking the Warthog, the two generals hurry into the library, not having to search for very long before they find Dr. Grey. The poor doctor has been sleep-deprived, hardly sleeping for more than two or three hours a day, too busy researching while simultaneously working on cursing patients in the city's hospitals. It's a lot of work, but no one is more well-equipped and fit for the job than Dr. Grey. Doyle finds her first, the doctor sitting on a dusty desk, surrounded by stacks upon stacks of books. She's in pajamas, wearing purple and white penguin pajama pants and a Pikachu T-shirt that's a size or two too big on her. She doesn't even look up at Doyle as the general approaches, too busy reading a large book in her hands with a dark green, hard-back cover. Doyle watches her, not interrupting. She just... looks like she's six years old all over again, reading college level books while learning Japanese on the side.

"There you are," Kimball suddenly says, ruining the sentimental moment as she arrives on the scene, raising an eyebrow when she sees Dr. Grey. "I see that you've been doing a lot of research. You have my thanks, Dr. Grey."

"Yes, ma'am," Dr. Grey replies, not even looking up at the general, too focused on what she's reading to hardly even notice her. "Is there something you need, General Kimball?"

"Yes, actually, we do need something from you." Doyle adds into the conversation, breaking out of his trance. He had gotten so lost in his memories that he had forgotten why he was there to begin with.

Emily's eyes snap up, widening when she sees Doyle. "Oh! Uncle Donald! Er, I mean..." She stutters, glancing at Kimball, then Doyle. Doyle nods, causing Emily to sigh in relief. "Um... what do you need from me, Generals?"

Kimball doesn't fail to notice Dr. Grey's slip-up, but she doesn't comment on it, understanding how the doctor feels. "We need some information. How exactly should we go about watching the Freelancers? As you know, the Reds and Blues are out on a field mission, leaving I and Doyle to watch Agents Carolina and Washington. Anything you can suggest?"

Emily nods, smiling as she closes her book, leaving a bookmark on the page she'd been on. "I'm glad you came to me before interacting with the Freelancers! As you already know, the Freelancers are in a very delicate state of mind. Just the smallest mistake could send them spiraling, and could ultimately leave some serious mental scars. The most important thing to remember is that they are in the mindsets of children. While they are in the physical bodies of fully grown adults, they are mentally toddlers, and therefore will be nearly impossible to reason with. Meaning you'll have to be ready to explain yourself for just about everything, even if it's something as small as feeding them or changing them. Speaking of changing them, you'll have to try as hard as physically possible not to squirm or cringe. They'll notice, and that might make them more modest than they should be too quickly, causing mental damage.

"Same goes for bottle feedings. While it's awkward for us, since we're not regressed in any way, shape, or form, Washington and Carolina will fully believe that all of this is normal. So treat them like children, but don't hit them or shout at them. That will undoubtedly leave serious mental scars! You should keep them busy, but don't overstimulate them. Leave out some basic toys for them, or put on some cartoons or kid movies for them, but don't try to be all over them all at once. They could throw a fit. If they start throwing a fit, stay calm, pull them aside, and sit with them until they calm down. After they're calm, sit with them and ask why they reacted the way they did. Doing so will help them see you as their leaders or caregivers, and make it easier to tell what bothers them and what doesn't. Any questions?"

"Uuuuuh..." Kimball trails off, eyes wide in astonishment. "I had no idea watching over the Freelancers would be so..."

"Complicated?" When Kimball nods, Dr. Grey smiles. "Oh yes, the Freelancers are in a very, very difficult place, both emotionally and mentally. How about this? If something happens, call me right away, alright? I'll be able to help you."

"Thank you, Emily," Doyle says, smiling as Kimball heads back outside to warm up the Warthog. He glances over his shoulder, waiting until Kimball is gone to hug Dr. Grey, rubbing her back comfortingly. "If you need ME, make sure to call, Emily... I know that your line of work is very stressful."

"Thanks, Uncle Donald," Dr. Grey mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to the man's cheek, making him blush bright red. "Good luck in there! Those Freelancers need you... it's like when you found me, remember? Just do what you did with me with them."

Doyle nods, and with one last hug, the man runs off to regroup with Kimball. Dr. Grey sighs once he's gone, swallowing roughly. "I have a bad feeling about this..." She mutters, returning to her book with a look of frustration on her face.


"I'm booooored," Carolina declares, flopping down on the floor next to Kimball, whose sitting cross-legged while flipping through a picture book. "When's Sarge comin' back?"

"Not for a few days," Kimball replies, ruffling Carolina's hair playfully to try and sooth the young woman, only to receive a huff of annoyance in response. "Here. Sit with me. Would you like me to tell you a story? There are a lot in this book..."

"Stories are boooooring," Carolina decides, sitting up and crossing her arms, unamused by Kimball's attempts to entertain her. "I wanna play outside!"

Kimball and Doyle exchange a look. Doyle's not very far from Kimball, sitting on the floor with Agent Washington and entertaining him by building block forts with the blond. Going outside has a lot of dangers attached. While the outside air could help lighten the Freelancers' moods, the Reds and Blues along with Kimball and Doyle have been trying very hard to hide the Freelancers from the armies, fearing what might happen if they interact. On one hand, having more back-up babysitters could come in handy, in-case Kimball and Doyle are needed on the field, on the other hand, members from both armies might try to harm Wash and Carolina, which would be disastrous. It's bad enough that the armies KNOW that they're like this; neither Kimball nor Doyle is willing to give the soldiers access to them.

"Well... it's not that simple, Caroline," Doyle explains, looking extremely nervous as he notices how angry Carolina looks. He knows what that look usually leads to. "I know you want to go outside, but it's just too dangerous. Uh..." He trails off, looking to Kimball for help.

"How about we play a game?" Kimball suggests, when she notices how close Carolina is to having a full-blown tantrum. "Hide-n-Seek. Ever played it?" When Carolina nods, Kimball smirks victoriously. "Good. The rules are simple; if you go outside you automatically lose, and no climbing anything that's too high. That sound fun?"

"Yeah!" Carolina shouts, hopping up and down in excitement, all anger gone in an instant. "I wanna play, I wanna play!"

"Me, too!" Wash whines, ignoring his block tower in favor of playing with his older sister. "I wanna play with Care-Care!"

"No way!" Carolina says, before Kimball or Doyle can say anything. "I wanna play with Miss General Kimball only!"

"But... but..." Wash trails off, sniffling as he let's out a few coughs, trying not to cry, but ultimately failing. "I wanna play, too..."

"I-It's okay, David," Doyle promises, putting on a smile for the Freelancer. "How about you and I play a little game together? Just you and me. We don't need your big sister to have a good time, do we?" He shoots Kimball a look, and Kimball takes Carolina quickly, leading her out of the room before Washington can change either woman's mind.

"I WANNA PLAY WITH CAROL!" Wash screams, and it takes everything in Doyle not to reel back and cover his ears in agony. Ah. Now THIS is the part he hated most about being a parental guardian.

"I know that, David," Doyle assures, keeping his voice calm and at a low volume. He can't yell like Wash; it'll only make him shout even louder. "But Caroline is a little older than you, and sometimes she wants to play different games than you do. I know it's hard to deal with, but I promise you, your sister will play with you again later."

Wash sniffles, rubbing his eyes as he calms down, subdued for the moment. "... Okay," He agrees, after a few minutes of contemplation. "Up?" He holds his arms out towards Doyle.

Doyle sighs, but ultimately agrees. "Alright... up you go," He announces, scooping Wash up with a groan, hoisting him up onto his hip. "My word, you really are quite heavy, aren't you?"

Washington simply giggles, pressing his face into Doyle's shirt affectionately. "Well... at least you're not crying anymore..." Doyle mutters, before walking off with the Freelancer in tow.


"GENERAL KIMBALL!" Palomo practically screams, charging down the corridor like the gates of Hell have just opened behind him. "GENERAL KIMBALL, IT'S AN EMERGENCY!"

"Oh my God, will you shut up?" Bitters requests, groaning as he follows after the younger lieutenant, going much, much slower than his companion.

"But, Bitters," Palomo says, swinging around to face Bitters, getting right up in the other teenager's face. "Doyle told us that this is an emergency! The city could be under attack, or Pirates could be at our doorstep! LIFE AS WE KNOW IT COULD BE ENDING!"

"Okay, first of all, back the fuck up," Bitters orders, waiting until Palomo obeys and steps back a few paces. "Second, I'm pretty sure if the pirates were attacking or Armonia was being invaded, we'd know by now. So calm your tits and-"

"-Hello."

Palomo lets out a scream in terror, jumping into Bitters' arms while the other teen screams along with him. After a few seconds, both look down, finally staring at what caused the sudden greeting. "Um... hi?" Palomo offers the red-headed woman, whose crouched on the ground in front of the two teens. "Are you lost or something?"

Carolina seems to think about it, deep in thought. "Uh..." She looks around, clicking her tongue as she tries to think. "Maybe," She decides, still unsure. "Me and Miss General Kimball are playing hide-n-seek... but I think I cheated. Kinda. She said no hiding outside of the building, but I jumped in-between our building 'n this one 'cus I thought that this building counted as inside... but now I dunno if I'm right 'cus Kimball hasn't found me yet."

Palomo and Bitters exchange a look, before Bitters leans into Palomo's ear to whisper to him, as to keep Carolina from overhearing. "Hey... I think this is one of those Freelancers. Ya know, one of the ones that got all regressed or whatever?"

"Dude, I thought they were kidding," Palomo whispers back, eyeing Carolina carefully. "You think that she's the emergency? That Doyle and Kimball just lost track of her or something?"

"Maybe..." Bitters mutters, before promptly dropping Palomo, making the younger boy fall to the floor, letting out a loud squeak.

Carolina giggles at the sight, amused, apparently, by Palomo's pain. "You guys 're funny!" She announces, smiling up at Bitters, still crouched on the floor.

Bitters nods, feeling slightly uncomfortable in front of the woman. "Uh... wanna come with me 'n Palomo here? I uh... think you might be lost," He glances around the hallway, fidgeting under the red-head's never-ending stare. "And... people are looking for you... just come with us, okay?"

"Okay," Carolina agrees, before humming to herself, again in deep thought. "Up." She orders, holding her hands up to Bitters.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me..." Bitters mumbles, looking to Palomo as the other teenager finally gets up, cracking his back as he stands on his own two feet once more. "Yo, you carry her, 'kay?"

"Why me!?" Palomo asks, but he's already crouching down, visibly shaking in the knees as he scoops the older woman up.

"Because I'm the leader, obviously." Bitters explains, walking ahead of Palomo as the two take Carolina out of the building.

"But we're BOTH the same rank!" Palomo insists, wheezing as he struggles to carry Carolina down the hallway. When he goes ignored, he groans, shaking his head. "I can't believe I signed up for this shit..."


"General Doyle! We found her!" Palomo promises, running into the war-room with Carolina's hand in his, Bitters trailing behind the duo. "See? We solved the issue without General Kimball's help! How's THAT for teamwork? High-five, Bitters!"

"Not if my life depended on it, Palomo," Bitters replies, standing at attention beside his partner before the Federal Army's general. "I say we got the job done though, right sir?"

"What are you going on about!?" Doyle shouts, and Palomo, Bitters, and Carolina all shrink away at the general's booming voice. "Did you not listen to a word I said!? Agent Carolina was NOT the one missing! She was playing hide and seek with General Kimball! She was not MEANT to be found!"

"... Oh..." Palomo mumbles, giving Carolina a nervous smile. "Um... sorry, I guess." He apologizes, letting go of Carolina's hand to pat her on the back.

"Can I go play now?" Carolina requests, giving Doyle an expectant look. "I wanna play with Miss General Kimball!"

Doyle sighs, shaking his head in frustration. "No... you stay her, dear," He orders, walking past Bitters and Palomo. "You two watch her, alright? It seems I'll have to find Agent Washington myself."

"Wait!" Palomo begs, but Doyle's already off and running, leaving Palomo and Bitters to their fate. "Well, at least it can't get any worse, right?"

A short hissing sound goes off. After a moment, Carolina looks up at Palomo from where she's sitting on the floor. "Wet." She determines, looking to him, as if he knows how to solve this mess.

Bitters groans, shaking his head. "Had to jinx it, didn't you?"

"Oh, shut up." Palomo growls, even madder than his companion. Today is just not his day...


"WAHHHHHHHH!"

"Aw, please don't cry!" Jensen begs, looking concerned for the older man whose, apparently, crying like a small child. "Smith, do something!"

"It's alright," Smith murmurs, scooping Washington up with ease, petting the man's back to try and calm him down. "Calm down, sir. What's wrong?"

"I CAN'T FIND PATCHES!" Wash wails, clutching Smith's shirt for dear life, sobbing openly and in terror. "I CAN'T FIND HIM ANYWHERE! WHAT IF I NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN!?"

Jensen bites back a sigh of frustration, sharing a look with Smith. Where this strange man has come from, neither know. One minute, Jensen was showing Smith how to properly replace the gas tank of a Warthog, the next, Smith and her were comforting a crying adult man in nothing but a diaper and a sweater. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Jensen and Smith are alone with the guy. Better them to help the poor man than someone who might misunderstand and harm the guy. Of course, that doesn't mean either of them are very comfortable right now. Smith is handling it the best- he used to have a son, once upon a time ago- while Jensen is using only guess work, unsure of what to say or do for the poor guy. Tenderly, she reaches out, ruffling the hair of the man in Smith's arms.

"Hey," She says, and the man looks up, big, gunmetal blue eyes fixated on her. "It'll be okay... we'll help you find your friend, okay?" When the diapered man nods, she smiles at him. "Good. Now, what does this Patches guy look like?"

"He's a kitty-cat," Wash explains, smiling as he sniffles, calming down in Smith's arms. "He's got lots of different colored furs on him, and he's full of stitches! He's my best friend!"

"Sounds like a stuffed animal," Smith whispers to Jensen, giving Washington a hopeful smile when the man gives him a questioning look. "I'm sure he's around here somewhere, sir." He tells Wash, if only to pacify him.

Before either of the lieutenants can do anything more, the doors to the garage burst open, Doyle running through the doorway, Kimball hot on his tail. The two generals stop dead in their tracks when they see Wash, Doyle actually falling over to keep from crashing right into Jensen and Smith. Upon seeing the generals, Washington squirms eagerly in Smith's hold on him, before the lieutenant let's go, allowing the blond Freelancer to crawl over to Doyle, grabbing ahold of his shirt and pulling on it, once, as if to confirm that he's there. Doyle blinks up at Wash, sighing aloud as he sits up, dusting off his pants before Kimball helps him to his feet, both generals looking relieved to have found Agent Washington alive and well. Jensen and Smith both watch, confused yet intrigued by the scene in front of them.

"Thank goodness you're safe," Doyle murmurs, smiling down at Wash and patting his head. "For a moment, I was worried that I had lost you, but it appears that you are just fine."

"Except for Patches," Wash points out, looking up at Doyle with tears building in his eyes. "I can't find him anywhere... what if he's dead?" He looks ready to cry again at the thought, and automatically everyone in the room tenses. No one wants to hear him lose it again.

"I-It's okay, David," Kimball promises, but she doesn't look very hopeful. "I'm sure your cat is around here somewhere... we just have to find him, okay?"

Wash hiccups, before nodding his head in confirmation, rubbing at his eyes to rid them of his tears. "... Okay." He agrees, somewhat sadly. He obviously doesn't think they'll find him.

Doyle crouches down in front of Wash, giving him a hopeful smile. "Now, David, where did you last have Patches?"

Wash shrugs, looking away from Doyle, appearing at first glance depressed. "I dunno," He admits, coughing away from Doyle. "I dunno where he is anymore..."

"We'll find him," Kimball repeats, trying to keep Washington from crying again. "Jensen, Smith, think you can help us find Agent Washington's stuffed animal?"

Smith and Jensen exchange a look, before standing at attention and nodding. "Yes, ma'am! We'll do what we can!" Smith promises, despite it being a rather odd request.

Kimball nods, smiling at the lieutenants. "Thanks... I think we'll need all the help we can get..."


They search for three hours straight. They look in every room of the building, in the garage, in the rec-room, in the surveillance room, in the bathroom, and every place they can think of. Finally, after so much time spent searching, Doyle tracks the stuffed toy down. "Kimball! I think I found it!" Doyle shouts, poking his head into the hallway from the room he's in.

Kimball comes running right away, eager to hopefully restore Washington's spirits. "That's great, here, I'll take it to him," She offers, holding out her hand to Doyle, who seems to hesitate. "Doyle? What's wrong?"

"Er... I don't think he'll be very happy once he sees, um, 'Patches' again..." Doyle trails off, finally showing the remains of the stuffed cat to Kimball. "It appears someone has successfully vandalized the poor thing..."

Kimball audibly gasps, eyes widening at the sight. Patches is, quite literally, in patches, all of the stitches undone, the edges burnt and ripped, with cotton barely attached to most of the stuffed animal's remains. Even the button eyes are missing, forcefully ripped out and stolen. It's also been dipped in something, Kimball notes, recognizing the brown stains on it to be gasoline. It smells like someone tried to burn it, but gave up, ultimately throwing it out. Kimball looks past Doyle into the room he's in and, sure enough, a trashcan a few feet behind him is tipped over, half of the trash pulled out by the general in search for Wash's toy. It seems that someone- or a group of someones- stole Patches and ripped the poor stuffed plushie apart, then tried to hide the evidence.

"This isn't good," Kimball mutters, shaking her head as she looks away, not even able to look at the remains anymore. "Washington will be devastated."

"We could always... tell him that Patches died protecting someone?" Doyle offers. This earns a surprised and confused look from Kimball. "Well, when Emily was a young girl, her favorite stuffed dragon went missing. I had looked everywhere for it, only to find that some older boys from her school had taken it and destroyed it. I told her that he had died in a house fire saving some innocent people, since she always fantasized that her dragon was a superhero... I never had the heart to tell her the truth."

"... It could work," Kimball agrees, after a few seconds of contemplation. "But I'm sure he'll be upset about losing his stuffed animal... is there a way to repair it?" After receiving a sad head shake from Doyle, she sighs in defeat. "We have to do something. I can't stand seeing him so depressed... don't tell anyone I said that."

Doyle chuckles, smirking a bit. "I won't, don't worry. I'll take it to my grave," After a few minutes of nervous silence, he stops, snapping his fingers in thought. "I've got it!" He assures, handing Patches' remains to Kimball. "Hold this: I'll be right back."

"Doyle!" Kimball yells, but Doyle's already going. Without hesitation, she follows after him, unconsciously holding Patches close as she falls into step beside the fellow general.

Doyle leads Kimball into a room she's never been into, unlocking it before stepping inside. With wide eyes, Kimball realizes that it's Doyle's bedroom. She scolds herself internally for not knowing earlier, but shakes her head of it as Doyle scuttles around the room, looking for something. Doyle's room is, unsurprisingly, very clean and in good order. One thing that Kimball notices is that one of the walls has several plates with cat-themed designs on them, all being of Chinese origin. How they've survived the war, Kimball has no idea. Maybe they're not even Doyle's? Maybe he found them and just kept them for the Hell of it? Kimball has done the same before; she has a collection, for some odd reason, of random books of all genres in her room, all ones she's found on missions and in abandoned towns and cities.

"Here it is!" Doyle suddenly cheers, and Kimball flinches so hard that she falls against Doyle's open door, almost falling out of the room in her surprise.

Kimball blinks, watching as Doyle produces a stuffed bear from under his bed. The stuffed bear is in beautiful condition, with cream colored fur, big, black eyes, a small black nose, and a neutral expression on it's face. The bear looks soft to the touch, with a big, amber colored ribbon tied around it's neck, acting as a big bow-tie. It has no other accessories, surprisingly, and as Kimball stares at it longer, she just has this feeling in her gut. This will work. He'll love it. She doesn't know why she's so sure of it, but she just KNOWS that Agent Washington will absolutely, unconditionally, fall in love with this stuffed bear. Quickly, Doyle walks over to Kimball, giving her a chance to look even closer at it. Doyle smiles at her, big and bright, and now she can definitely see that he raised Dr. Grey. He looks like a parent now, in her eyes.

"What's it's name?" Kimball asks, because it probably has a name if Doyle's had it for so long. In fact, it's probably his.

"I... honestly can't remember," Doyle admits, smiling as he pets the bear's head. "A little girl gave it to me, a few years back... I can't seem to remember why or who exactly she was, but I've kept it with me for most of the war. Think David will like it?"

Kimball grins then, nodding at Doyle. "I think he'll love it."


Telling Washington that Patches is dead, actually, is not as horrible as Kimball and Doyle imagined. He was heartbroken, sure, having had a long crying-fest once the news hit home, but afterwards he was quick to calm down, before announcing that Patches needed to have a funeral. The funeral was... awkward, at least a little. The lieutenants, Kimball, Doyle, Carolina, and Wash all buried Patches' remains in a box behind the base. There were more tears, mostly from Carolina, Wash, and surprisingly Smith, before they were all able to put Patches to rest, more or less. However, Wash still seems depressed. As Smith carries him inside of the base once more, Kimball and Doyle exchange a look, deciding it's now or never that they give Wash his replacement stuffie.

"Um, David," Doyle addresses him first, earning Washington's attention as the Freelancer looks up from where he had pressed his face into Smith's shoulder. "I and Kimball actually have a surprise for you..."

"Surprise?" Wash repeats, eyes wide in curiosity. "What surprise?"

"Patches, before he... died, asked us to call in one of his friends to watch over you," Kimball explains, smiling a bit at Wash as the man visibly perks up. "He's coming over very soon. Do you wanna meet him?"

"... Yes," Wash decides, with a small smile to show for it. "If he was Patches' friend then that means he's a good person."

"He is," Doyle promises, taking Washington from Smith with a nod, motioning to the lieutenants that they're free to go. "And he can't wait to meet you, David."

With nods from the lieutenants, they take off, leaving Kimball, Doyle, Wash, and Carolina by themselves again. Kimball takes Carolina's hand, watching as the red-head yawns. "I think she needs a break to rest," Kimball decides, flashing Doyle a look. "You go on ahead and introduce David to Patches' friend while I put Caroline down for a nap, alright?"

"Alright," Doyle mutters, waiting until Kimball disappears down a hallway to take Washington back into the rec-room, setting him down on floor. "Are you ready to meet your new friend, David?" He asks, watching as Wash's eyes light up in excitement.

"Yeah!" Wash shouts, excited for the first time in awhile as Doyle walks over to a box on the couch, pulling out a stuffed bear.

"Here you are," Doyle says, handing the large stuffed animal to Wash, watching as the blond Freelancer takes it, eyes wide in amazement. "Well? What do you think, David? Will this bear do for a friend?"

Washington just stares at the teddy bear for the longest time, before he buries his face in it's chest, letting out a long, content sigh. "He's so soft," Wash moans, grinning up at Doyle once he pulls back. "Thank you, Mister General Doyle!"

Doyle chuckles, ruffling Wash's hair. "It's not a problem at all. What are you going to name him, hm?"

Wash hums, as if in deep thought, before he hugs the teddy bear again. "Maine-Bear," He decides, smiling against the toy's fur. "Or Maine for short."

"Maine-Bear?" Doyle repeats, slightly confused. "Why Maine?"

Wash just shrugs, as if he doesn't know either. "I dunno... it just fits him super well," He explains, rubbing his cheek against Maine-Bear's face. "He growls and purrs like a Maine does... and he's warm like a Maine, too..."

Confused by this logic, Doyle simply nods. He should probably question Wash some more about the matter, but for now, he figures it's fine. He'll find out the truth sooner or later, right?


A/N: A really long fuck-off chapter, but at this point, I don't even care... I'M SO TIRED, I DON'T WANNA GO TO SCHOOL ON TUESDAY, AND I CAN'T GET OVER THIS AU ANYTIME EVER! Please R&R!

~CabooseHeart.