Sorry for the long wait, everyone! I got really exhausted over the weekend before Thanksgiving and then spent most of the week getting my house ready for family to visit! Unfortunately, I do think any updates this week will probably be the last until I get through my finals as the last two weeks of finals are pretty much a marathon of 5 exams in 12 days, and that doesn't leave me with much time to focus on writing. At least I'll be on break after we've weathered through, though ; ) In any case, thank you everyone for your incredible patience and just the tremendous support I've been getting for writing this story. I know I keep talking about how taken aback I am by the community for RvB, but it's true! I just am so flattered and thankful for everything. You guys are awesome!

I feel bad that I won't be updating too much until finals are over, so hopefully a decently sized chapter can make up for it : )

Thanks for the feedback to ashleystlawrence, analiarvb, i-will-batman-you, dickrector, secretlystephaniebrown, pissedoctahedron, snugglybrachydios, cyborg-simmons, tresa-cho, dremoranightmares, vo-kopen, ambi-deer-ate, aiyeka, staininspace, That_Crazy_Anime_Shipper, locrianrose, Alkeni, bangles25, godoflaundrybaskets, Yin, ephemeraltea, Adventures_in_Writing, HappyFunBallXD, Beawolfs_Pen, Halo_Freak, and JjThereforeIAm on AO3 and tumblr!

Red vs Blue and related characters © Rooster Teeth
story © RenaRoo

Hero Time
Chapter Eleven: Calling in Backup

In the confusion that ensued, it was easy for Tucker to slip into the back. Church was throwing out curses and waving emphatically for explanations he wasn't getting, Kai had rushed to Sheila's side, and the question of contacting the authorities or not was being hotly debated already as Tucker grabbed Washington's jacket and headed out the back door, only hesitating for a moment by the dumpster and giving it a curious kick before continuing on his way.

There were no mysterious superheroes to be found in the bin that time, at least.

His mind was still a flurry with the would-be robbery, the strange amount of evidence adding up that something was wrong, and the twisting gut feeling that Tucker hadn't felt since the last time their gang watched Tex turn and head toward certain disaster.

While Tucker's feet carried him, he looked down to his phone, fingers nimbly braving the cold to send out message after message.

TUCK_MAN: HEy! Where r u?
GRIF: Werk. U?
TUCK_MAN: Oops. Ignore.

TUCK_MAN: FATASS. WHATS GOING ON?
TUCK_MAN: HEY. U got 'splainin 2 do!
TUCK_MAN: This shit aint funny anymore!
TUCK_MAN: Dude. Ur SISTER was there!

Tucker gritted his teeth. As concerning as it was in the moment to not be hearing back from Grif immediately, he also knew Grif well enough to remember that the man was infamous for not returning texts for whole weeks if he had happened to be sleeping when he got them.

Which was not exactly a rare occurrence.

But this involved Kaikaina, and if there was one thing that would make even Dexter Grif respond to a text message, it was going to be involving his baby sister. Grif could kill a man - most likely by sitting on them - for his sister.

Tucker got another block, looking back down to his phone for a response every other step, before letting out a frustrated growl and shoving his freezing hands back in the jacket pockets.

By the time he rounded the corner and headed down the alleyway, his adrenaline was in full rush and he seemed to almost be running on instinct as he skidded to a halt by the alley door.

Without much thought, he grabbed the door handle, jiggling it before shaking his head and looking to the device over the lock.

"Oh, right. That fucking thing," Tucker muttered before beating his fist against the metal door. "HEY! WASHINGTON! OPEN THE FUCK UP!"

When there was no response, Tucker chewed on the inside of his cheek and backed up, looking around warily for something when he noticed the security camera angled toward the alley.

Rushing over to its field of view, Tucker jumped up, waving his arms sporadically. "Hey! Hey! Wash! It's me! I need you to get the fuck down here!" Tucker yelled at the top of his lungs, never once thinking of the rest of the neighborhood. "It's important! Like stupid important!"

Not even a full minute later, his breath collecting in the air, Tucker dropped his arms and groaned, looking toward the still closed door and groaned.

"Ugh, all this excitement is too fucking hard, goddamn," he muttered before heading back to the door and banging on it a few more times. "Wash! C'mon, man! It's like life or death! Maybe!"

Tucker looked down to his sneakers and thought over all of his "collected evidence," and began to wonder if, just perhaps, he was making a mistake when the door flung open right in front of his swinging fist.

Wash deflecting the pounding motion with less than a flicker of his wrist and stared at Tucker almost in bewilderment.

Which was about the expression Tucker had considering Wash was answering the door in compression shorts, sunglasses, and nothing else.

"Do you sleep in headgear?" Tucker demanded.

"I wasn't sleeping," Wash responded, rubbing the top of his sweaty hair. "I have a training routine- nevermind that. Tucker! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hey, you got my name right," Tucker said almost gleefully. "Is your superpower X-Ray Vision and you're really concerned about respecting boundaries?"

"What- are you still on about that?" Wash asked critically. "And, no. It isn't. What are you waking the-" He let out a long, irritated sigh before rubbing at his face with one hand and motioning Tucker in with the other. "Hurry inside before someone sees you. I don't want people to pay much attention to this entrance. It's bad for secrecy."

"You know what else is bad for 'secrecy' and keeping a low profile?" Tucker asked, walking in. "Thousands of dollars worth of security equipment that people can see."

"Tucker," Wash grunted, exasperation reaching his voice in a way that Tucker hadn't quite heard over the past two days.

"So you do have a mode other than stoic! Bitchy," Tucker joked. He looked over his shoulder to see a very unamused look from Wash that sent him scratching at his neck nervously. "Eh, nevermind. You don't seem to be in the mood."

"That's... putting things lightly," Wash responded. "But... it's okay. I'm here to help-"

"And to have amazing physique apparently. Holy fuck. Is this what you wear in your house all the time-"

"Tucker," Wash snapped, brushing past Tucker to open the apartment door. "I told you, I was training-"

"Yeah, okay, but considering you want to train my son, I think I deserve to know if this is the kinda outfit I should expect him to-" Tucker paused as he looked over Wash's shoulder as the door opened. His mouth hung open slightly, completely confused as he saw the majority of the apartment covered in weight racks, high bars, and standing targets after standing targets - more than a few with knives stuck to the inner rings. "Jesus."

He watched as Wash crossed into the threshold and grabbed a towel from the nearby table to begin wiping down his shoulders and arms. Tucker shifted, imagining that the hero probably raced from whatever equipment he had been on to the door and wondered, for a moment, if perhaps he was going too far and intruding on something necessary.

Tucker's eyes studied the various wraps and bandages that seemed fresher and less frayed than anything from his own first-aid kit.

"So is it safe to work out with all those?" Tucker asked curiously.

"I have painkillers," Wash assured him.

"Wow, that didn't answer my question at all," Tucker responded as Wash looked at him. "Also, not sure that's a good thing-"

"Tucker, what is a life-and-death situation?" Wash asked seriously. "Are you or your son in trouble?"

"No! Dude, I keep telling you, we're pretty good about not getting in trouble. Promise," Tucker responded a little too quickly. "I'm talking about one of my friends."

Washington made a face. "Is it Tex's ex?" he asked, as if it was a foregone conclusion.

"Church wishes he was still the center of trouble. No, it's not him," Tucker continued, obviously frustrated. "Listen, it's my friend Grif - he stopped by the apartment yesterday and I made you and Junior play hide-and-seek for a bit? His sister works at the diner with me... Okay. Admittedly 'friend' is a loose term for any of us assholes, but it's Grif and if he's hurt or some shit I don't know who's gonna look out for Kai, because I sure as shit am compromised in that situation-"

The hero flinched back a bit, as if Tucker's sputtering was physically bombarding him with the information, and he held up his hands. "Tucker, wait! Stop, I'm not keeping up. Guy from your apartment yesterday... the one I thought was in trouble? He's now actually in trouble?"

Tucker frowned. "Maybe."

Wash pressed his lips together until they formed a thin line and put his hands on his hips. "Tucker you're going to have to give me more to go on than this. Why do you think he's in trouble?"

With thoughts of car hoods and broken ribs on the mind, Tucker found himself frowning and staring at Wash's bandages again with a rather different attitude. "Uhhh..."

"Tucker, my eyes are up here-"

"Dude, you cannot fucking say that with those stupid sunglasses on," Tucker responded, looking up before going into a full body flinch. "I... I wasn't checking you out! I... okay I made a stupid joke about you being cut, what the fuck ever. But right now, that was not. It wasn't..."

Wash let out a throaty sigh and put a hand to his face. "Tucker... please let me know what the hell is going on. I'm honestly really tired."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Not yours, and it won't be yours no matter how many look overs you do."

"I'm not checking you out!"

Throwing up his arms, Wash shouted almost shrilly, "WHO THE HELL IS GRIF?"

"He's my friend! And he's the big brother to my coworker!" Tucker shouted back. "He is stupid over protective of her, and I don't think he was home with her last night, even though I saw him yesterday. And when we got robbed today he... Well, it's hard to explain but he wasn't there and he's not been answering my texts even though he would never ignore Kai being in danger. I don't think-"

Wash's face dropped immediately into the stoic concern that Tucker had become familiar with. "You were robbed!? When-"

"Like forty-five minutes ago. I ran straight here-"

"You didn't talk to the police?" Wash asked critically.

"Dude, fuck the police, I came to a superhero! How much more proactive can I get?" Tucker demanded. "Besides, I don't know if Sheila is going to actually place a call or not. There's something fishy about the whole set up. They didn't even really rob us. And they were acting funny. Funnier than they were in the bank-"

Wash's eyebrows raced for his hairline. "It's the same gang that robbed the bank? Why are they robbing a diner-"

"I don't know! I'm not Scooby-Doo!" Tucker groaned. "They just pulled up in their piece of shit jeep for a bit-"

Stepping forward, Wash's face became even more serious. "What color?"

Tucker blinked twice. Well shit, he thought immediately. "Um. I don't see how that's relevant-"

"Tucker, was it orange?"

"I'm not going to say it wasn't orange, necessarily..."

Wash turned immediately and headed toward the hidden closet Tucker saw last night. "This is fantastic," he said, almost proudly.

Raising a brow, Tucker followed. "Wait. It is?"

"I thought that all of the strange goings on in Blood Gulch weren't connected, but I'm starting to see where the lines are drawn now!" Wash exclaimed, grabbing for the untarnished suit. He looked over his shoulder with a smirk. "Your robbers and my hit-and-run seem to be more connected than I ever realized! And I'm willing to bet that if that's connected then you were onto something last night and the culprit behind the rise in crime across the city is also related to your Red Dead Blood Gulch Gang-"

Frowning, Tucker crossed his arms. "We're still talking about one of my friends being in trouble here, dude."

"Then I need to figure out how he's connected to all of this as well..." Wash muttered, hesitating at he pulled on his suit only for a moment. He brought a hand to his chin, huffing something under his breath before turning to Tucker directly. "You... mentioned that you worked with his sister?"

"Yeah?" Tucker responded, tilting his head.

Wash took a breath, the earlier excitement seeming to have left him. He looked back to his apartment then to Tucker again. "Junior. Where is he?"

Taken aback, Tucker tilted his head up and looked down his nose at Washington. "Uh. Home. Why?"

"Do you have someone with him?" Wash demanded.

"Dude, what kind of father do you think I am? Of course I do!" Tucker snapped. He narrowed his eyes, ignoring the pounding in his chest. "Why? Why are you asking me this?"

"You, you're connecting all of these incidents," Wash responded. "It's too obvious of a connection to not make."

Tucker blinked a few times. "It's... really not - I mean, I'm sure there's a bigger connection here. Maybe we're just... not completely aware of how big the connection is until we see it. But I'm pretty sure it's not me. I'm pretty sure it's Grif-"

"You helped me after my encounter, you were robbed at the bank, you were approached by your friend, now your friend is missing, and your place of employment was targeted," Washington listed off, finishing putting on his suit. "No, Tucker, I think the line is pretty clear."

"Well, maybe from where you're standing that seems like the obvious connection-"

"Tucker, we have to make sure your son is okay," Wash spoke up finally, looking at Tucker in complete sincerity.

The very words made Tucker's heart clench despite all logic. He looked at Washington and shook his head before throwing up his arms. "Why do you keep saying shit like this? You're giving me a goddamn heart attack, dude!"

"Junior is more important to all of this than either of us could really know, I just feel it," Wash responded.

"You keep saying shit like that? Then yeah! It will lead to something happening! they kept telling Harry Potter he was the Chosen One and it almost got him fucking killed-"

"He was the Chosen One-"

"Only because Voldemort chose him over Neville!"

They both stopped, realizing they were shouting in each other's faces and backed up, shifting awkwardly. Tucker pulled at his hair and groaned. "I'm fighting Harry Potter logic with a dude in latex-"

"It's a kevlar body suit. And Harry Potter was a metaphor."

"You are such a dork," Tucker snorted. He turned his head and looked at Wash. "Will you stop making prophecies about my son? He's not... alien Jesus or anything, right? I mean. He's my kid. Scales and all."

Washington gave him what almost amounted to a painful look and rubbed at the back of his head. "It's... not important. What is important is that we make sure he's okay. And, hopefully, you're right and this has more to do with your friend and random happenstance than with you or Junior, and I'll just leave from there to check things out on your buddy." He tilted his chin up. "Not to mention, I'd be more comfortable with driving you home myself than you waling on the streets while violent robbers liable for hitting people with cars roam the street."

"So far I think you're their only injury count," Tucker reminded him.

"Thank you, it's comforting to hear that," Wash said dryly.

Watching as Washington walked to another display table and began to sift through equipment, pouring countless items into his utility pockets, Tucker realized what was going on and stepped forward, a bit angrily. "Hey, you can't just go in my house ready for war or whatever-the-hell. You didn't have all that shit the other night!"

"And, as you like to keep reminding me, I got ran over by a car the other night," Wash said, reaching for the fancy visor from before.

Reaching forward, Tucker grabbed Wash's wrist to stop him, drawing a curious look from the hero.

"Okay, bring whatever you want, but if you're really worried about not bringing trouble to my kid, can you try to be a little less superheroy? My landlord already knows someone's been staying over and he's being a little fucking creep about it. I'd rather not have to explain breaking the weapons policy."

Wash looked concerned. "You have a full weapons policy in your building?"

"The guy's a pacifist."

"Huh," Wash remarked before shoveling some more knives into his pocket. "I don't think we'd get along."

"Nobody gets along with him. It's Doc's curse," Tucker responded, letting go of Wash's wrist. "About the superheroiness?"

"I'll put on some plain clothes over my suit, would that be less conspicuous?" Wash asked.

"Yes. Please," Tucker replied as he watched Wash walk to another closet. "Wait, how are you taking me home? You have a car? A Washmobile? Is it fucking awesome?"

"I have a vehicle. It's not going to stick out too much if two regularly dressed men are on it instead of a superhero in full 'costume' so I think it'll do," Wash replied.

Tucker crossed his arms and watched as Wash put on jeans and reached into the closet form the night before. He hesitated then looked back at Tucker, seeming to concentrate on the jacket for a moment then returning back to the closet.

"I'm glad you're still wearing that," Wash announced, pulling out an older looking aviator. "It... looks good on you."

Looking off, Tucker tried to ignore the uncomfortable squeeze of his stomach. "Whatever. Shut up. Uh... thanks for the jacket and everything, though. Whatever. Shut up."

"You take compliments as well as you take everything else, good to know," Wash snorted, zipping up his jacket and looking like an average human being dumbly wearing sunglasses inside of his own apartment. He pocketed his visor and gloves before nodding to the door. "Let's get to the bike-"

Tucker blanched. "You want to ride a bike with me-"

"It's a motorcycle-"

"That doesn't make this less... uh. Intimate."

Washington looked at him so dully that Tucker thought he might've broken something with his commentary alone. Wash rubbed his face. "Tucker, we're both grown men here-"

"My point exactly. You don't ride with other dudes. You pick up chicks with bikes. Lots of chicks. Like four or five at a time because bikes are sexy."

"Tucker, get downstairs or I'll knock you out and deliver you home bridal style just to get this over with," Wash snapped.

Heading toward the door, Tucker couldn't resist squinting his eyes at Wash. "Do you say that to all the ladies you pick up on your fancy superhero motorcycle?"

"I only pick up you on the motorcycle, Tucker. Now move."

Tucker readied a retort as he headed toward the alley door only to be stopped when Wash's hand grabbed his shoulder and held him back. Just as Tucker was about to say something, he followed Wash's gaze to the other side of the floor level and saw a small platform raise in the empty space, revealing the black and yellow striped motorcycle.

Pursing his lips, Tucker folded his arms and glared at the self satisfied look from Wash. "This laundromat is starting to get ridiculous."

Wash scoffed, almost offended. "Just starting? I'll have to put more things in."

"Ha ha, you're hilairous."

Tucker waited as Washington approached the vehicle first, looked it up and down, and threw a leg over. Almost automatically, the bike's engine started up and Tucker almost felt the urge to roll his eyes at the sci-fi aspect of it all. Church would want to dissect the thing if he had been there.

"You can get on now, Tucker," Wash said almost sarcastically.

"Uh, I really can walk..."

"Tucker."

While a large part of Tucker wanted to fly off the handle with the retorts, as would be usual, something about the look Wash was giving him made Tucker feel the need to take a heralding breath and suck it up.

A little cautiously, Tucker approached and came to the side of the bike. He frowned. "Am I going to have to hug you or something?"

"I can go really fast and make sure no one sees you," Wash joked.

"Wouldn't I have to hug tighter for that? I feel like I'm being manipulated here to fill the really low quota you have for human-to-human interactions-"

Wash sat up and threw his head back in what Tucker could only imagine was an exaggerated eye roll. "Tucker, I tell you what, if you want, I can dig through my junk and-"

"Bow chicka bow wow-"

"Stop that," Wash said warningly. "I have a sidecar somewhere in my basement if you really want to waste-"

Tucker flinched back. "Sidecar? Like the little stupid side thingies that look like baby carriages?"

"That'd be it-"

Without a moment's hesitation, Tucker slipped behind Wash on the bike and wrapped his arms around Wash's waist which made the superhero cough a bit in surprise.

"You can... you can hold my shoulders... nevermind, let's just get going," Wash responded reaching a helmet back to Tucker.

"Uh, yeah, thanks-"

Tucker barely had the words out when Washington revved the motorcycle and looked to what Tucker had just blindly assumed was the wall beside the door before it began to open up for them. I a flurry of motion, Tucker threw his helmet on and returned to hugging Wash's waist just as they headed back out onto the alley - Wash was not kidding about the speed.

Tucker glared at the man.

"You hypocrit - how was me yelling at you less noticeable than this?" he demanded.

Tucker couldn't see very well over Wash's shoulder, but it didn't take too much imagination to see the man smirking to himself as they carried forward on the way to Tucker's apartment.

There was a thrilling brush of the cold air across them as they raced forward. It was almost enough to ignore the raising concerns for just what it was that Tucker was supposed to be so worried about concerning his own son but not quite.

There was something that Washington wasn't saying to him and as much as Tucker didn't like it, only a casual thought back to Grif reminded Tucker that he wasn't exactly the most innocent party involved either.

Disparaging thoughts aside, they made it to the apartment in what Tucker could only assume was record time, and Wash seemed to almost expertly steer them toward the alley not far from Tucker's apartment window before pulling into park.

"Put a lot of thought into this?" Tucker asked.

"It's good to be prepared," Wash gave his casual non-reply as he straightened up. He looked over his shoulder and raised a brow.

For a moment Tucker just gave him a brow back before realizing he still had his arms around Wash and raised them up with a cough. "Uh, anyway- let's check on Junior and then get you to help people that really need it. What do ya say?"

"Ideally that's how it'll work out," Wash said, getting off the bike with Tucker and not looking back as the bike turned itself off.

Tucker shook his head. "Church would have a field day with the shit you have."

"I'll be sure to keep him away from it then," Wash responded as he brushed past Tucker and toward the entrance to the complex. "Do you need to page us in?"

"Nah, we're not that fancy," Tucker waved off as he walked through with Wash. "Not all of us are paranoid superheroes with millions to burn."

"You keep exaggerating details to annoy me," Wash observed.

"Hey, look! You're catching on," Tucker snorted back as they climbed the stairs. His look hardened as they neared his apartment and were met with frantic but familiar shouting. "Ah, fuck."

Washington stepped ahead of Tucker without warning, body squaring up toward the door, his fists readied.

Realizing what was about to happen, Tucker grabbed Wash's shoulders and yanked him back, making the superhero sputter in surprise.

"No, no wait - it's Church," Tucker assured him before rushing up to the door and knocking. "HEY! OPEN UP-"

The door to the apartment flung open, hitting Tucker's foot and making him jump back with a bit of a yelp.

On the other side, Church's eyes were blown wide open, the robotic eyes sparking with anger as he looked out into the hall.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" Church snarled. "Where the FUCK have you been-"

Wash held Tucker up as the man rubbed his stubbed foot, eyes seeming to lock with Church's almost immediately.

Church pointed at Wash angrily, body shaking. "I should have known your bullshit was involved!"

"Pardon me?" Wash snapped back.

"Church, shut up and let us in!" Tucker growled. "I'll explain why I left, okay. I went and got help-"

"You got the cops!?"

Everyone fell quiet at the squeaking interjection and Church straightened up, letting Tucker and Washington see further into the door. Tucker almost swore under his breath when he saw Kai, makeup still smeared down her face, standing in his apartment. She was completely disheveled. For Kai, in any case.

"I didn't get the cops, Kai. What're you doing here?" Tucker asked, easing his way into the apartment and ignoring the stand off between Church and Wash behind him.

"I didn't let strangers in, Tucker!" Caboose called from the living room, holding Junior up as the alien struggled to get to Tucker. "It was Church! He let the mean lady in!"

"HEY!" Kai shouted, turning on her heels toward Caboose. "I'm not mean! I'm hysterical! Stupid... stupid-face!"

"And she calls me mean things!"

"Everyone stop shouting," Wash ordered as he stepped in, pushing slightly past Church. "We don't need to attract attention-"

"Stop telling us what to do, COP!" Kai shouted.

Tucker whirled around to look at the stand off between the tiny Kaikaina and the flustered undercover superhero. He glared at Church as the man seemed to be putting his hands together in glee at the match up.

"I am not a cop," Wash said thinly.

"Yeah? You don't think I know a cop when I see one, Cop?" Kai hissed, hands on her hips.

"I am not," Wash stopped himself, pinched the bridge of his nose, and released a long, heralding sigh. "I believe we've started off on the wrong foot, ma'am-"

"Ma'am? Did you just fucking call me ma'am? You know who calls me 'ma'am'? COPS!"

Washington dropped his shoulders and looked to Tucker in confusion.

Junior let out a series of blarghs and kicked Caboose in the face to drop down to the floor, rushing over to Tucker and Wash. He was nearly bouncing on his toes as he grabbed Tucker's hand, pulling on it as he pointed to Wash.

Tucker patted Junior's head. "I know, buddy, hold on a minute," he said softly before turning back to Kai. "Kai, Wash is going to help me look for Grif-"

Kaikaina's face scrunched, confusion drawing clearly on her brow. "But... how did you know something was wrong with Big Bro...?"

"I can explain later," Tucker lied, ignoring the pull of his son's arms. "But I need a key to his apartment so Wash and I can check it - Wash is good people. That's why I went to him the second the gang left Sheila's-"

"Speaking of who, she's really fucking worried about you," Church spoke up, whatever glee he head from Kai and Wash's stand off quickly disappearing into his usual anger and annoyance. "Tucker, you fucking left us without a word back there! What the fuck was with that shit?"

"He was doing something he thought was best at the time," Wash spoke up defensively.

Church turned, puffing up his chest some to glare at Wash. "You're not a part of this, Super Zero! Butt. The fuck. Out."

Wash's nose curled slightly. "Like it or not, I am a part of this for now."

"I don't like it! That's the point!"

"Everyone shut up!" Kai shouted, drawing all attention back to her. She threw her key ring at Tucker's face, barely giving him enough time to catch it. "Find my brother, assholes! I don't care about any of this other shit! Dex hasn't talked to me since yesterday. And that was cool last night when I could drink all the beer. And this morning when there was still cereal to eat. But it was not cool when I needed him and was fucking scared! So you go out there, find him, and fucking kick his ass for me!"

Tucker blinked a few times before taking a breath and pocketing her keys. "Alright. Any questions anyone?"

Church crossed his arms then looked over to where Caboose's hand was raised. "Shut up, Caboose."

Wash scowled a bit. "Ma'am, are you drinking age?"

"Fuck you, Cop!"

Tucker looked down to Junior whose face had become progressively red as he continued to pull on Tucker's hand. He sighed and rubbed Junior's head. "Sorry, buddy. I'll be home for good soon, promise," he responded before picking up Junior and handing him over to Kai. "Kai, stay here until we've made sure your apartment's safe and shit, okay? Take care of Junior."

Junior let out a protesting honk as Tucker and Wash headed back to the door.

"How many times does he need to be walked?" Kai asked, bouncing Junior on her hip.

"Ignoring that," Tucker shouted back. He hesitated as Church grabbed his shoulder.

"Tucker," Church said warningly. "What the fuck are you getting involved with here?"

"I'm not involved, dude! I promise," Tucker responded, ignoring the glare Church aimed toward Wash . He slid Church's hand off of him. "Just... make sure everyone's not blowing up the apartment. Alright? You know you're my number one-"

"Oh, don't butter me up," Church snapped.

Wash stood in complete bewilderment in the hall as Tucker shut the door behind them. "That was worse than a dysfunctional Christmas," he announced. "But... I believe you about your friend being the bigger piece of the puzzle now."

"Thank you," Tucker replied snootily as they headed toward the stairs. "Hey, at least we got keys out of it. That makes checking his apartment way easier-"

They both jumped as they rounded to the stairs only to see Doc standing in wait.

"Jesus Christ, Doc," Tucker wheezed.

"Tucker, the noise-"

"It's under control, look. I'm even leaving with a guest who's not staying the night, happy?" Tucker asked, waving to Wash.

Doc looked in surprise at Wash as Wash glared back at him, putting a hand to his chin.

"Uh, yeah! Great, actually," Doc responded. "You guys, uh, continue on your way then. Awesome."

Grabbing Wash's hand, Tucker all but pulled him back down the stair as Doc took off up the stairs like a weirdo. "Ignore him, Wash. That's just my fucking annoying landlord I was telling you about."

"He's... familiar.. somehow..." Wash muttered to himself. "Tucker, I've seen your landlord before-"

"Yeah, you've also been in my apartment before. It's whatever. I'm not the big picture here, remember? Keep your attention on Grif and the stupid Red Gang, alright? That's where the answers are. Not me and not your weird obsession with my alien son. We're totally normal."

Wash made a face. "To quote you, Tucker, I would love to make a recording of the shit you say and play it back for you."