I am. Just floored. I have had such a fun time writing this story, have had so much encouragement and just wonderful words and advice from every single one of you. This has been one of my favorite projects in a very long time and that's all because of how awesome you readers and just this awesome fandom has been. I cannot thank everyone enough for making this story work, and for making me feel welcomed and just overjoyed to be a part of it. You're all amazing, and I hope you've had as much fun with this chapter and this story as I've had with it. I hope you'll join me for the next project which I hope to get off the ground in the next couple of weeks, though I suspect it'll be an even bigger one than this was!
Thank you to CabooseIsTheBest for the feedback!
Red vs Blue and related characters © Rooster Teeth
story © RenaRoo
Divided
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Ending it All
The young lieutenant - Palomo - was an interesting sight. He strolled in alongside Andersmith and some of his other soldier friends with gusto despite his less than average size as a solider. He then volunteered his services to Grey under the circumstances.
"With Captain Tucker on prisoner duty and Agent Washington fighting pirates in space - which are two of the most badass things I've ever gotten to say about anyone who trained me. Oh yes. They trained me! - Agent Washington told me that I should walk you through how to teleport to Captain Caboose. And the deranged Doc man."
"Is that so?" Emily responded back, amused beyond compare.
That had then led to the equally small New lieutenant in tan-and-maroon to elbow Palomo just below the ribs. Palomo nearly fell with the hit.
"Oh-ho-ho owe! Okay. Well. He might have asked for Jensen to do it, but then decided she should be on communication duty since she's good with that sort of thing and my skills are, uh, untested in the tech department," Palomo amended.
"That's more like it!" Jensen preened.
"Ouch, Katie, that smarted!"
Feeling a little less sure after seeing that the lieutenants were, very much, children, Grey turned her gaze more to Andersmith.
The towering giant of a solider was in full attention. "Lieutenant Charles Palomo is an excellent soldier, Doctor Grey," he assured her.
"Aw, thanks, Andersmith," Palomo all but blushed.
Andersmith took a breath, then added, "Under the right orders."
"Oh. Oh okay," Palomo pouted. "I see how it is."
Grey laughed. "Okay, thank you for your honesty, Lieutenants. Palomo, I believe we'll get along just fine. Tell me, how do you feel about blood?"
Palomo shifted slightly. "Um. Well. Usually I like it when it stays in me."
"That's a creative answer," Grey responded, her eyes flickering. "And what of other people's blood?"
At that time, Andersmith and Jensen looked over Palomo to each other, then almost cartoonishly stepped back together, keeping their tan-and-turquoise friend between them and Doctor Grey.
For his part, Palomo was already looking rather pale. "Um. Well. Usually I'd say I like it when it stays inside of them, too? But in war, I guess I like theirs out and mine in rather than the other way around. Wait. Does this sound dirty? This sounds dirty somehow."
"Very interesting," Grey responded, turning and walking toward the back. "Follow me, Lieutenant. I need supplies."
"What kind of supplies?" he asked, keeping in step.
"The kind I might need. After all, worst case scenario, I will have to cut something off of someone," she replied with a twist of her hand.
"Oh... well, what's best case scenario?"
"When I get to sew something that's off back on," she said giddily. She smirked over her shoulder at Palomo. "Now, back to you and your preferences for blood. Tell me, Lieutenant, how often do casual conversational bits sound 'dirty' in your mind? How would you describe your sex life?"
The kid blinked rapidly. "Um. What? That... was conversational talk? M-m-my sex life?"
Grey kept from cackling as they continued toward the hospital. She was going to enjoy time with the lieutenant, she could already tell.
As much as a full psychoanalysis on Lieutenant Charles Palomo would have been fun in other circumstances, Doctor Grey was finding herself rather perturbed. In the rummaging of her office supplies in the nearby hospital, she wasn't able to really concentrate on directing the course of heir conversation. Which left Palomo as the one able to fill the silence.
"And I guess that's why I ended up joining the army. I mean. When everyone else is it kind of feels like the logical thing to do. But I wonder, does that make me a follower? A sheep? Who is Charles Palomo outside of being super awesome, up-and-coming soldier extraordinaire. And. Possible future jedi. Maybe." He turned to face Doctor Grey even more directly as she stuffed some more surgical equipment into her duffle. "You know, it really makes you think?"
"Hmm," Doctor Grey stood up, strapping her bag across her. "Not really, though it is fascinating what you believe passes for neural stimulation, Lieutenant."
He blinked a few times at her. "Huh? Oh... well. Thanks? I think. Huh."
"Alright then, I'm ready, let's move out to this 'transporter hub' you're talked about," she commanded, heading toward the door. "I have a patient who needs me."
"Wait just a second, Doc," Palomo spoke out, reaching toward his ear piece. He was turning more toward the side he was listening from. "Yeah, this is Palomo! Uh. Definitely sure? Go ahead. Jensen! I can't elaborate on who I am much more than that. Just believe me! The line's safe."
"Oh, great Einstein's turntable," Grey moaned exaggeratedly before turning on her own receiver. "This is Doctor Emily Grey of the Federal Army of Chorus. Tell me what's going on."
"Doctor Grey! It's terrible!" a thick, lisping voice gargled over the radio. "I'll patch you right through to General Kimball. They're coming in fast - there's a big problem!"
"A big problem?" Grey repeated as the frequency obnoxiously shifted over their helmets, even causing Palomo to groan and step back at the aggravating noise.
"-is is General Vanessa Kimball. Come in Armonia. Armonia, come in again-"
"This is Emily Grey, go on Kimball," Grey said firmly.
"We're still fifteen minutes out from the city walls, we won't be able to assist with evacuations and our radios only now have revived since the last impact. You have to leave the city walls, and you have to do it now!"
Grey and Palomo looked to each other, equally surprised. The doctor turned from him, walking toward the halls, hand securely on the satchel strap. "Evacuation? Miss Kimball, we only just secured the city and have captured several Charon operatives inside of it. Are you telling us to abandon our home?"
"I'm telling you that if you don't get everyone out of there this instant we're going to be looking at the extinction of Chorus," Kimball's voice said harshly. "Where's Doyle? Tell him-"
Stopping short of the end of the hall, Grey allowed herself a small shiver at the sound of an old friend's name. She breathed. "General Donald Doyle was... killed in battle. We're in shambles, but for now I'm directing the maintenance of the capital."
There was a pause before Kimball swore under her breath. "Listen to me, Doctor Grey, we are looking at losing just on the cusp of winning. I don't know how, but these pirate bastards somehow shot a goddamn laser from space and annihilated one of their own compounds after we had taken it. They killed their own people and I can tell that the weather patterns outside of Armonia are shaping up to look just the same. It won't be long before equipment in the city limits is going to be useless. And then... catastrophe."
"Weather patterns?" Grey repeated.
"Haven't you two seen the outside?" Jensen slurred over the radio.
"Ummm no?" Palomo added just as he joined Doctor Grey by the nearest window, his shoulders dropping in awe at the sight outside of a yellowed atmosphere evaporating the clouds overhead. "Holy cow..."
"Oh, no," Doctor Grey gasped.
"Doctor Grey, you must evacuate! There's not much time. Get as many people out of the city as possible - we have to make sure Chorus survives!"
The delivery of Kimball's message was passionate, fierce, and above all else, very concerned. Grey hesitated only for the slightest moment, letting the greatest brain in all of Chorus come up with the most full proof plan possible.
She began to race down the halls, Palomo hardly able to keep in step. "Jensen, on my signal you're going to put me through to the entire city's communication grid. I want every person in Armonia to hear my announcement," she commanded.
"On it, Doctor Grey!"
"Palomo, we're taking every patient to the transporter hub - a full hospital evacuation out of the city is too dangerous so instead we're going to rendezvous later from Outpost 37," she continued. "Where was that location?"
"Right by the prison hold in the command building," Palomo answered.
Grey stopped in her tracks. "... I don't believe I was mistaken... but in case I was... General Kimball did say the power grid was about to go off... didn't she?"
"Uh, yes. I think so."
Emily felt her heart drop into her stomach.
"Oh, no. QUICK! Someone get a hold of Captain Tucker!" she screeched. "IMMEDIATELY!"
"Damn it damn it damn it!" Kimball growled, throwing herself forward and leaning over the shoulder of the lone pilot. "How much faster can this go!?"
"Not much, General!" the soldier responded immediately, somewhat expecting the outburst after the fifth time.
Kimball slammed her fist against the the wall, glaring ahead. Armonia's walls were right before them and the blaring sirens and evacuating ships in the midst of the strange, yellow maelstrom were a cold comfort, even with the intercoms screeching Doctor Grey's evacuation instructions.
"Drop here," Kimball demanded.
"Uh, ma'am?"
"I said drop here," Kimball said firmly. "There are evacuees on land coming this way, you're going to pick up as many as this hunk of junk can hold."
She turned to leave, causing the pilot to look back as he came to a secure landing.
"Wait, General Kimball! Where are you going?"
"I'm going to help my people," she said, jogging out the back hatch and rushing into the thick of the rushing mob. She barely got onto the road before she was already firmly directing people toward the ship, and taking the first available ATV abandoned as a result.
A part of her was screaming, the back of her head where all her strategy and planning was demanding she return to the Pelican and find her way to safety - preserve herself to lead the people of Chorus after yet another assault.
But she wasn't sure how much more she could lead the people of Chorus if she didn't personally see to it that as many of them survived as possible.
Unfortunately, just as she had seen before, a pulse of pressure bellowed through the city, and with it went out every light and vehicle in its way, including Kimball's just as she breached the city walls.
Her heart nearly stopped, the people around her yelling and rushing out faster and faster all around her.
Kimball turned her eyes to the sky. "Damn it," she cursed under her breath again.
A cold fear hit her. It could possibly be the end.
She watched in abject horror as the clouds peeled back and the yellow sky seemed to give way to the white glow from beyond the atmosphere.
Then, however, the glow diminished, the yellow haze dimmed, and the clouds and sky slowly began to fall back into its proper alignment. Kimball's heart fluttered to a start again.
Everything was okay but... how.
"Carolina," she decided with a breath of gratitude. "They came through for us after all. Goddamn. Cut it close enough-"
The blast from the center of the city was loud enough to make the weak start of a celebration silence immediately. The power of the city was still off, but that wasn't keeping someone from starting the fireworks apparently.
Kimball looked around before exaggeratedly moving her arms toward the exits.
"No one called off this evacuation! Move it! Move it!" she bellowed.
Almost immediately, everyone fell back in step and the rush out of the city continued almost two-fold.
She took a moment to watch them all before turning again to the command building as smoke began to bellow out of it. Without any further hesitation, the war general pulled out her rifle and rushed toward the heat of battle.
Tucker watched the prisoner for a little bit, took in the way the mercenary's shoulders were drawn close, how his head was down. Without the bulk of armor, he seemed almost human, even in the way the shadows crossed his face.
Almost. Not nearly enough to make Tucker even begin to forget the shit Felix had done to him, to all of them. To Chorus.
Turning about face, Tucker began to walk again - he hadn't made a full round in the cell since Felix came to, always close enough to hit the the button to increase the gravity of the hold should the merc make a move. He turned on his heel, took as many steps away from the cell as he would dare to make, gripped to the hilt of his sword, then turned back immediately, rushing to the front of the cell.
"Hey, fuckface! You're being awfully quiet since we kicked your ass!" Tucker growled, brandishing his weapon.
The igniting of the sword got Felix's eyes to move, a golden twinkle lighting up at the sight of the alien weapon. But he didn't bother to raise his head any further.
If anything, Felix looked more away.
Gnashing on his teeth, Tucker leaned in closer. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were up to something, asshole."
That was enough. The mercenary tilted his head back, a sharp toothed smile gleaming.
"Oh, so you know better?" Felix hissed.
"Yeah, I know you're fucked," Tucker snapped back. "And I think you know it, too. That's the reason you've been sitting in your cell taking it in. I wouldn't be surprised if Kimball just walked in here and offed you herself."
Felix laughed darkly. "Well, that would be quite the way to go," he agreed, smile still growing. "Tell me, Tucker... Vanessa wouldn't happen to be in the city for all this now would she? I'd love to take down a few friends with me."
Narrowing his eyes, Tucker tilted his head. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Please, Captain," Felix responded darkly. "You didn't question even for a second why it was so important for me to get out of the city earlier? Really? Didn't think there might be some more plans in the works?" He snorted. "Of course you didn't. You're satisfied with mediocrity, what am I talking about? You'll happily be playing security guard to the very second we're evaporated."
Tucker's eyebrows knit together. "Evaporated? What the fuck are you-"
There was a long whine reverberating throughout the building. Felix and Tucker both looked to the ceiling with the long rumble became heavier and closer. The lights flickered, dimmed, and extinguished before Tucker even fully process what was happening.
The lights were off.
The aqua space marine whipped around, waving the glowing sword with him in the dark. "Jesus, this is not the time to learn the Feds never paid the bill," he groaned before hesitating his rotation in the direction of the hold. Or, rather, the indented room where the grav lock of the hold used to be. The empty room. "Oh, fuckberries-"
The hit was so fast and strong that Tucker imagined for a moment that he was being hit by a tank at full speed. Or by Tex again. His head knocked back and his body fully fell into the nearest wall, spared the snap of a neck by the grace of reinforced UNSC armor. The kick to his back, pressing him into the steel wall even more felt less absorbed, however.
"O-OW, you son of a bitch!" Tucker moaned, knees buckling as the foot was removed and he slid to the floor.
Rasping for air, Tucker could only watch as Felix strolled to where Tucker had been standing and bent down to pick up his sword.
"The irony of this is almost too good," Felix chuckled, twirling the hilt around in his fingers. "We might all be going out, but the important thing is... we know once and for all that I get the better of you, Lavernius Tucker. And I'll prove it with your own... god... damn... sword?"
The satisfaction Tucker felt at watching the way Felix flailed his equipment was honestly almost too good.
"What the fuck is with these alien toys?" Felix snarled, shaking his arm again and again, the hilt of the prophet's sword remaining inactive. "What the fuck!? What. The. Fuck-"
Pushing up to one foot, rising as much as he could while still feeling winded and a bit crushed, Tucker began to chuckle. "Wh-what's the matter, Felix? Performance issues?"
It was incredibly worth the kick he only minimally deflected.
"I don't need a sword to kill you, Tucker," Felix reminded him.
"Yeah, but it would have been cooler," Tucker said freely, standing on his feet and immediately pulling out his pistol, aiming for Felix's head. "And it's not like you have other weapons. Or armor. Or bandages to stop your dumb ass from bleeding all over the floor when I drag it. So how about you do us all a favor, Felix, and go sit the fuck down before I do something I'm really probably never going to regret."
Once more, that seemed to shut Felix up, but only for a moment. He was considering his options - probably remembering all those times he spent watching Tucker practice at the shooting range back in the caverns - when the lights flickered back on.
It was such an abrupt change, Tucker blinked in spite of himself.
And in that literal blink of an eye, Felix was gone.
"No! NO! Goddamn it!" Tucker roared, immediately turning to the door just in time to see the blur of gray as Felix raced out.
Tucker followed right on his trail, shooting the moment he could see Felix clearly up ahead in the hallway. The slippery bastard managed to out maneuver each shot, making the former PFL Sim Trooper scream out in frustration.
"Fuck you, Felix! You're not getting away, you-"
He noticed the shift in Felix's stance long before he saw the flash of tan and aqua. Tucker almost felt his heart give out, he reached forward but it was far too late to do anything else.
Palomo rounded the corner and immediately was punched, nabbed, and spun around as a literal meat shield, his own pistol held to his head.
Skidding to a halt, Tucker aimed for where Felix's head was hiding behind his lieutenant's.
"C-Captain Tucker!" the boy gasped. "I-I came to help, the power was going off-"
"Yeah, good fucking job, Palomo, you idiot!" Tucker snarled, his full concentration on Felix. "What kind of useless soldier gets himself caught, huh?"
"S-sorry?" Palomo muttered. He flinched at the sound of Felix laughing in his ear.
"Oh, Tucker, you're so rich," Felix chuckled, taking steps backward, dragging the New lieutenant with him. "I mean really. I knew you caught on to more of what I was teaching you than you let on, but that was a genuinely convincing tactic. Devaluing a hostage out loud to throw me off my game. Text book, but impressive considering how low you set the bar."
"Hey, maybe I'm just a shitty Captain, like I've always been telling people and no one fucking listens," Tucker snapped back. "Seriously, I fail enough as it is. Don't give me credit for failed plans I haven't been actively working on."
Palomo tilted his head as much as he could in the death grip that Felix had him in. "I don't think you fail that much, Captain Tucker-"
"Palomo, dude, you're a hostage for him right now, it's not the time to kiss my ass," Tucker responded flatly.
"You know, you're right," Felix responded with a chuckle. "I really have been giving you far too much credit lately. That's the problem with you Sim Troopers - can't find that happy medium. Can't underestimate, can't overestimate. Just a bunch of lucky-as-fuck imbeciles."
"Rude," Tucker responded just before looking to Palomo's belt - the transporter cube for Doctor Grey. He paused, really thought about the cube, about everything that started this god awful adventure, and then dropped from his firing stance, holding up his hands and holding his gun by just a finger. "Okay, okay. Let Palomo go, Felix. And tell you what, you can even keep my sword to sweeten the deal."
"For some reason that offer's a hard buy, Tucker," Felix responded smoothly. "And I'm supposed to just believe you're not going to shoot me in the back when I turn to leave."
"Take it or leave it, Felix," Tucker responded. "Believe me, if I told everyone there was no way to keep you from leaving other than to shoot through Palomo, no one would give me grief."
Palomo visibly gulped at that statement.
Slowly, Felix relinquished his grip on Palomo slightly, still holding the gun to the boy's head. "Drop your gun," he demanded.
Without hesitation, Tucker complied. The gun clattered on the tile floor.
The moment Palomo was free, Tucker dove forward, throwing himself and Palomo to the floor just as Felix shot where Palomo's head would have been. Tucker laid over top of his lieutenant, holding him in position even as Palomo screamed and squirmed.
"Oh my god he was going to kill me anyway! Oh my god he's going to kill us anyway!"
"Palomo!" Tucker warned as he reached to the lieutenant's belt, grabbed the transporter cube, and cranked the coordinates to a nonexistent point. "Stay down, Palomo." He looked down the hall as Felix was beginning his run and screamed at the top of his lungs, "HEY! FELIX!"
Activating the cube, Tucker thrust it after the merc then flattened over Palomo again just as the cube expanded and released a burst of flaming, angry energy again, blasting through the halls and walls, shaking everything. Felix disappeared behind a wall of fire, then Tucker and Palomo did.
...
He'd never really understood what it meant to hurt every part of his body until Wash had put it upon himself to make Tucker an actual soldier. He'd never really understood that hurt and pain weren't the same thing until he blearily began to come to from the explosion.
Tucker felt the jarring shake from head to toe of someone trying to stir him, but it wasn't until the ringing of his ears gave way to the frantic calls of "Captain Tucker! Oh my god, Captain Tucker!" that he began to remember he had been with Palomo.
Squinting, Tucker rolled his head to one side, felt every sinew of muscle in doing so, and let out a low moan. "Palomo..." he muttered. "Staaahhhpp."
"Oh thank god!" Palomo cried out, not realizing that as he threw his head back, he was harshly letting his Captain's body smack back on the rubble.
For a moment, Tucker began to close his eyes again and think that it would be a simple enough matter to just sleep everything off, when he was roughly shook again.
"F-fuck, Palomo," Tucker whined.
"I-I just. Captain! There's. Uh. Felix," Palomo sputtered, his body visibly shaking - bad enough so that even in his delirium Tucker detected it.
The mention of Felix was somewhat sobering, and Tucker tried as much as he could to raise up on his elbows, an effort that took more out of him than he would ever care to admit, and glanced back over his shoulders to where he could somewhat place the memory of the other half of the corridor.
Everything was exposed now - light leaking in from outside the building, even though Tucker distinctly remembered them being closer to the building's center. It was ashen, smoldering still, and debris everywhere. It was the first time Tucker's brain really took note since he woke up that his own armor was coated in ashy black.
Amidst the destruction, it didn't take long for Tucker's eyes to fall on the rising figure, smoking and somewhat burnt himself. Felix stood up, shaking in what the Sim Trooper hoped was pain but knew was probably more akin to anger.
"Holy shit," Tucker breathed.
"I know!" Palomo called out from behind Tucker. "You would think that he'd have an even worse time than you after the explosion seeing as how he didn't have armor or anything! Maybe he really is that much better than the rest of us."
"Palomo," Tucker warned even as he grabbed onto his lieutenant's shoulders and began to wobbly force himself up. The stretch and pull of moving almost made him want to vomit on the spot, but he held it down and turned to face his foe.
"That almost felt like a plan in action, Tucker," Felix sneered, slowly turning around, showing off the way his survival suit was charred and, at the shoulders, melted. It made Tucker flinch at the thought of how much that would have to hurt. "Almost. But then I realized you're about as roughed up as I am from that. So I'll take it back - wouldn't want to give you credit for more failures than you have."
"Appreciate it," Tucker snapped back as loud as he could manage.
Felix looked him up and down before snorting. "Cute," he noted before walking forward, somehow managing to do so in an almost normal stride. "You know, it also just occurred to me that I don't think I've ever seen any of your little friends play with your sword either."
"Bow- ugh, forget it, reflex," Tucker groaned. He tensed as he realized Felix wasn't stopping short, but the action alone almost had him falling back.
Palomo stepped between them.
The mercenary hardly looked Palomo's way before clocking the kid hard in the jaw, standing in front of the breathless captain. "I'm thinking there's probably a reason for you never sharing, right, Tucker?" Felix responded darkly, roughly grabbing Tucker by the arm, twisting him around by it, and keeping the hold even as he shoved the sword hilt into Tucker's hand.
"Ow-ow, goddamn it, let go!" Tucker whined. He heard the familiar sound of his sword unleashing and cursed under his breath.
"Some kind of identification ability," Felix mused. "Ah, it makes so much sense now. You know, I feel a lot better with that figured out. Turns out, I'll just be needing to take your hand-"
"What the fuck - let go!" Tucker growled, struggling as much as his protesting body would allow. His heart was pounding in his chest, especially as he could feel his hands being twisted toward each other - toward his sword - when shots rang out clearly.
Felix immediately whipped around, harshly dragging Tucker to the ground as he did so and refusing to loosen his grip on Tucker's arm when they both looked to see what, for Tucker, could best be described as a sight for sore eyes.
Simmons was holding a rocket launcher to his shoulder trained on Felix, while Grif was reloading a shotgun.
"You heard the man!" Simmons yelled almost hoarsely. "Let Tucker go, Felix!"
"Hey, or don't!" Grif joined in, aiming his freshly loaded weapon at Felix's head. "I'd love to shoot the fuck out of you. "Do you know how long I went without a mess hall? Without real food? And then you go and collapse half a building on the best one in the city? Who the fuck do you think you are!?"
"Also, you're a war criminal and we're going to take you to the proper authorities!" Simmons continued, losing an astounding amount of confidence between each phrase. "So, uh, suck it! Uh. Mercenary!"
"Guys," Tucker gasped out. "Just. Just shoot him. It'll be better in the long run. For everyone. Just get it done."
"But the court?" Simmons asked, fully distracted at that point.
"I don't know, Simmons," Grif said, taking full aim. "I like how Tucker's thinking. Personal revenge might be on the menu."
"Neither of you are going to dare to shoot me as long as your stupid, over confident friend is in the way," Felix said assuredly, yanking Tucker more by his arms. "Neither of you have a good angle to make sure you get me without getting him either - especially with a goddamn rocket launcher and buckshot spray."
"Why did we grab these again?" Grif asked, looking to Simmons.
"I don't know! Mine's a signature weapon. Yours is speaking to some serious father issues we apparently need to deal with after this is all said and done."
"He's not my father!"
"Shut up, both of you!" Felix screamed out, nearly sounding hysterical. He ragdolled Tucker, making the Sim Trooper's already blurry vision swim again before coming into focus as Felix guided Tucker's own hand to hold his sword at his throat. "I don't know how any of you manage to survive being as goddamn stupid as you all are, but I'm ending it all now. There's no winning for you idiot Sim Troopers. There's no luck. And even if it's just me, even if it's for nothing at this point but self-satisfaction, I'm going to take as much of this miserable rock with me as I can!"
"No," a familiar voice rang out from behind just before a single shot was fired. "You won't."
Felix fell into Tucker who could barely afford to support his own weight, tearing them both to the ground. Tucker's brain was able to think fast enough to turn off the blade, but not before nicking the kevlar over his neck. It was close, but definitely could have been closer.
His brain functioned at enough capacity to kick off the mercenary after landing, and to look to the approaching soldier.
Not that Tucker needed confirmation on who it was. He managed to give her his best thumb's up as he closed his eyes. "Got'em, Kimball," he said softly as he felt the general kneel by him.
"We did, Captain," she replied softly back.
Tucker couldn't think of anything better to fall unconscious to.
Wash was given the honor of flying them back into the atmosphere and guide the Pelican toward the city they had deigned as home for two years. It wasn't exactly normal for Carolina to relinquish vehicle control to someone who wasn't designated "team pilot" beforehand, but Wash had a rising suspicion that her new passenger was far more of a handful than she was initially letting on.
It was a concern he was going to bring up with her later - when the Reds weren't sobbing over each other in the cockpit and Wash didn't have the very pressing concerns for his own soldiers nearly blinding him to all else.
His grip on the wheel tightened a bit at the thought of Caboose and Tucker and he flew in a little faster, only easing up when he noticed the way Carolina's head tilted.
Even without saying a word she was a backseat driver. Wash found that incredibly impressive.
They were quiet, basking in victory which was, to be frank, not something they were all that used to. Sarge and Donut babbled enough as background noise to not make the return trip feel overly alienating.
It just felt good at the end of the day.
"What kind of beer do you want for me to get that story out of you?" Carolina asked finally, actually going so far as to start unlatching her helmet.
Wash looked at her for a moment, watched her take the helmet off and felt like it was done. It was over. Things were good. Mission accomplished.
"Beggars can't be choosers," he responded with a small laugh, returning to looking ahead.
"Oh, so we're begging for beers now?" she snorted.
"It's been a very stressful couple of years," he admitted freely. "I'll take what I can get at this point."
"It's been a very stressful life," Carolina huffed. She hesitated, eyes looking off to the right, though nothing appeared there that Wash could see. "Yes, Epsilon. That statement is more true for some of us than others. I didn't forget."
"Stress and anxiety aren't a competition," Wash couldn't help but point out, a statement apparently so egregious that Epsilon bothered to project his tiny self and give Washington a very explicit hand gesture before flickering back out. "Should he be wasting energy doing that?"
"Probably not," Carolina responded coolly, her attention elsewhere.
And, most likely, on just what Wash was beginning to lean forward to see for himself as well.
"Is that... Armonia?" Wash asked, noticing how even the Reds had grown quiet as they approached.
"Hey," Donut piped up, leaning over Wash's shoulder. "Why's it so dark? And smokey."
"Obviously because the lights are out, Donut!" Sarge gruffed. "And as there is probably no radio communication without working power, someone - probably the only person in the galaxy to have read the Red Team Official Handbook, so Simmons - is attempting to reach us through an elaborate set of smoke signals."
"Cristo," Lopez muttered.
"Simmons lit a whole building on fire in order to make smoke signals?" Donut asked. "That's hardcore. Even for Simmons."
"That's not just a random building," Carolina said, a little breathless. She turned her head toward Wash. "That's the command building. Wash! You said you stopped the canon!"
"I did!" Wash responded. "I mean, it started up and everything, but it never fired-" His heart sank. "Oh god. The canon! It was magnetic - it must have sent out some preemptive pulse toward its target. It knocked the power grid out and... Tucker..."
Before anyone could begin to speak up, Wash harshly jerked them into descent, flinging all of Red Team to the front of the cockpit. Carolina even had to grab a hold of the console to keep from smacking it. She quickly turned her head to glare at him.
"Wash-"
Almost instinctively, Wash threw on all the controls to begin automatic landing on the first building with a large enough roof, unstrapped himself from the pilot's chair, and headed toward the exit.
It was almost unsurprising when he saw Carolina in hot pursuit.
"Keep me updated here, Washington, what's going on in that brain of yours," Carolina said fiercely, not even budging beyond putting on her helmet again as the landing rather roughly began.
"The MAC would have turned off all electronic power in the surrounding targeted area," Wash said, his heart pounding. "When we left, I left Tucker in the command building with... with Felix in the prison hold. And now the building's almost flattened.
Carolina visibly flinched, a blue spark appearing by her shoulder for an instant and then gone again. But she loaded her guns as the exit door dropped and she nodded to him.
"Alright, let's go-"
"And what about us?" Donut spoke up, walking briskly toward them. "We got rid of one merc! How about we help you take down this one-"
"You didn't take him down, Donut, he was waiting for us in the launch bay," Wash reminded him.
"Yes but his morale was so broken that for our purposes he was as good as dead," Sarge spoke up. "Red Team took down a merc. Now you're trying to take down a merc. Don't think I can't see this for what it really is, Agent Washington: you're trying to play catch up for Blue Team!"
Carolina and York stared at Sarge for a good long moment before she turned to Wash and, very seriously, said, "I could lock the door behind us."
"No, they'd find a way to crash it in park," Wash sighed. "Listen, Sarge, Donut, Lopez -"
No te olvides de F.I.L.S.S.
"... sure," Wash responded to the white glow by Lopez. "You all should canvas this area, try to figure out what's going on. I don't hear gunfire or anything, but apparently only our radios are able to transmit and receive right now. Contact us with any information you have. Carolina and I are heading straight to the fire. We'll do the same."
Donut and Sarge looked at each other then back.
"Um, you Freelancers are going to keep us in the loop?" Donut asked, head cocked to the side. "Not to be a Negative Nancy, but you guys are really bad at doing that."
"We'll try but no promises," Carolina stated definitely. "Alright enough is enough. Let's get a look at what's going on."
Wash wished with everything in him that the very idea of that didn't fill him with dread.
...
It was hard to get a real hold on the atmosphere around the capital. Even from the perspective that he and Carolina were moving in stealth and not exactly sticking around to ask questions on their way toward the city's central structure, there was still plenty to notice from afar.
What scarce population was left in the city were fairly clueless - gathered in groups and standing around. Some in armor, some not. Some with weapons ready, some standing around scratching their heads.
The drill sargeant in Wash almost wanted to stop and scream at the men to get in some semblance of a position.
However, the closer they were to the building, the more order began to pick up once more, to the point that he could even hear familiar voices, including one he had hoped left the city hours beforehand.
"Careful - I said careful! - Palomo, I told you to sit down - Andersmith, lead the medics to the surgery room, absolutely no more surprises-"
Wash and Carolina both slowed to a stop a few feet from the panicked gathering of soldiers, managing not so much to wade through them but rather like they parted the sea as everyone realized just who they were.
Doctor Grey spun around on her heels before either Freelancer even had time to speak up. Wash tried not to flinch at the way the woman was splattered with blood and soot. To be fair to her, it wasn't all that different from other times Wash had seen her at work.
She blinked at them. "My goodness! Agent Carolina! Washington! You're back. That must mean everything went well in space."
"According to Epsilon, it won't be long before a rescue is mounted by the UNSC given his message," Carolina said thickly. "What happened while we were gone-"
Wash didn't have the patience to wade through Grey's story and began to look around for himself - his eyes almost immediately falling upon the gurney and medics surrounding it - the banged up looking Palomo half out of burned out armor, still trying to hang by it even as Andersmith gently forced him to sit back down.
"Tucker!" Wash cried out, pushing past everyone to get by the gurney, his stomach doing somersaults as he looked over his soldier.
The majority of Tucker's armor hadn't been removed yet - it was ashen black, chipped, scorched, and generally banged in around his frame - but what had been removed showed that no matter what amount of damage had been absorbed, Tucker still got a beating inside the armor. His face was bloodied up and swollen, but he still managed to open an eye and groan.
"I wanted to be knocked out before you got here," Tucker muttered. "Don't wanna deal with bitching..."
Wash threw up his arms. "What happened!? I was gone for only a couple of hours! Literally. Like two of them!"
Tucker let out a low sigh. "Like this. 'Swat I meant."
"Did you blow up a building with you inside of it?" Wash demanded, feeling slightly hysterical. "Because it looks to me like you blew up a building with you inside of it."
"He was taking down Felix," Kimball spoke up, stepping up from the crowd Wash had barely even processed before zoning in on Tucker. "And protecting his lieutenant in the explosion."
Wash stared at Tucker. "This is still reckless..." He looked more to Kimball. "Um. Did it work?"
"Kind of. Set me up for a hell of a shot," Kimball responded.
"I loosened it for her," Tucker mumbled incoherently.
For a moment, Wash could only hear his own heart pounding as he looked Tucker over. He placed a hand softly on the gurney and looked worriedly to everyone around. "Is he going to be okay?"
"He is going to have a few wonderful morphine-filled nights of recovery and a few scars, but I'm learning that it is much more difficult to keep you Project Freelancer soldiers down than an average patient," Doctor Grey responded. "Now, if everyone would be so kind as to get out of the way so we can get to the hospital! that would be wonderful. Thank you."
Wash didn't move even as the others did. "Doctor Grey... what about Caboose?"
"I have very good people - best of my staff - at Outpost 37 along with the rest of our patients from the evacuation," she said as she motioned for the other medics and Andersmith to push the gurney off without her. She squared up with Wash, putting a kind hand on his shoulder. "I'll be with him as soon as I'm done getting Tucker out of that nasty armor and patched up. Don't worry, Agent Washington. I will make sure your soldiers are given the best!"
Feeling a bit weak in the knees at the mere reminder of Blue Team's state, Wash just managed a nod. "Thank you, Doctor Grey," he managed, watching as the good doctor took off toward the hospital with the others.
Carolina massaged the corners of her head, never talking out loud in doing so, but Wash could easily assume that he wasn't the only Blue Team leader concerned for the others. She then straightened up and looked seriously to Kimball.
"General Kimball, how certain are we that Felix is dealt with?" Carolina asked.
"We have a body," Kimball responded point blank. "With a few holes in it. Pretty damn sure."
"That's the best news we've gotten since this started," Carolina sighed.
Both Freelancers stiffened slightly as their radios signaled, then automatically reached for their earpieces.
"Found all of Red Team," Sarge announced. "Still all in one piece. Gotta say, if I ever need to assert my authority again, I apparently should just almost die. It's done wonders for reminding everyone how much I'm needed on Red Team!"
"No, no more almost deaths," Wash said firmly. "I think we'll all appreciate each other more than enough now."
He looked up as he felt Carolina's hand connect with his shoulder. "Do you want to go see Caboose, or do you want to stay with Tucker first?" she asked.
Wash gave Carolina a look he sincerely hoped portrayed his appreciation of the sentiment. He thought for a moment before slowly nodding at his own reasoning. "You and Epsilon go to Caboose first. I'll watch the surgery - Caboose could use a visit from Church to cheer him up until we can manage to get all of Blue Team together again. Tucker... Tucker needs to be scolded for excessive use of self-inflicted harm. His plans are too dangerous for himself."
Carolina snorted. "And he's going to get that lecture from you? Alright then," she laughed. "We'll cheer up Caboose and radio in a bit. Whenever we figure out how we're reuniting everyone on Chorus."
"I don't know if we need to worry about that," Wash said, jerking his head to draw Carolina to the site behind her.
The aqua marine turned, shoulders relaxing a bit in surprise. There was a line of soldiers - mostly Fed armor - approaching Kimball and receiving orders, asking for advice and suggestions, and the general was easily assigning duties - trying to get the power on, trying to get the radios working, trying to string their planet's people back together one by one. And it was working.
"I'll be damned," Carolina breathed in relief.
"We did something," Wash mumbled.
"Chorus did something for itself, which is even better," Carolina corrected him.
Wash nodded. "But we blew up a lot of things to help."
"That we did," Carolina agreed, offering up a fist. Wash gladly bumped it. "That we did."
Marching orders were far from the most fun to fulfill, but Bitters never found them easier than getting the radio feed from Kimball that ordered for him and the rest to lead the charge back home. Back to Armonia. Back to somewhere where sleep and food and appliances were actually a thing again.
He had no idea how such a feeling of relief could wash over him after only a few days gone, but there he was, facing the walls of the capital again. He thought that it must have been the feeling of victory everyone had been so worked up about before.
Entering the gates also came with a bit of a loss - what could they possibly be expected to do once there. Were assignments still the same? Were armies still divided?
Communication was still difficult, and that was at least part of the reason that he found himself just absolutely stunned when he was hit with a running hug right below the level of his chest. It nearly knocked the air out of him.
"Katie?" he coughed when he managed to find his footing once more.
"Oh my gosh, Antoine!" Jensen breathed against him.
For the first time in what felt like days, Bitters dropped his tense shoulders and happily stroked his squadmate's head. "I figured you guys would be okay," he sighed.
She punched his shoulder but it was all in good fun - her eyes were bright and joyful.
Bitters looked up, taken aback slightly by the sight of Andersmith all but holding up a bandaged up and bruised Palomo. It felt like a punch to Bitters' own gut to see their youthful squadmate so beat up.
"What happened?" he asked. "Did we actually go with the plan to use Palomo as a meat shield or..."
"I helped beat Felix!" Palomo burst out excitedly. "A-and Captain Tucker saved me from an explosion. Captain Tucker was my meat shield, Bitters! I think I've reached legendary status."
"Palomo played the part of a punching bag for his adventure," Andersmith explained more eloquently.
"That makes sense," Bitters laughed. "I... Well, I survived Kimball and me being basically the only News in an entire squadron. It was fun. Wouldn't do it again."
"Federal Army is not that bad," a thick voice spoke up from behind Palomo and Andersmith.
Bitters looked around them to see, what else, a Fed on the other end of that interjection. He felt himself give a long sigh at the revelation. But Jensen was quick to elbow Bitters for it.
"Antoine, this is Aleksandr," she said, walking over to the big guy and looping arms with him. "He's going to be working with us from now on."
Raising a brow, Bitters looked to Palomo only to find the little guy giving a solid nod at the announcement. "He's a cool dude," he asserted.
"Eh... John?" Bitters looked to their leader for a bone.
Andersmith shrugged. "We have the honor of being part of General Kimball and Doctor Grey's first initiative with the New Army of Chorus," he reported. "Our teams will be pulling resources and squads together in a new, united front as we rebuild the city and Chorus overall."
"Kimball initiated this?" Bitters asked suspiciously.
"Yes," Andersmith responded. "Is that alright?"
"Yeah," Bitters replied, feeling a bit of a smile tug at his lips. "I think I'd follow Kimball's orders anywhere."
Carolina tried not to act like it, but one of the problems with sharing a brain with someone was that they always could tell when something was wrong. Deep down, Epsilon knew that Carolina felt the same about him and the carefully constructed lies in his own head full of zeroes and ones.
"How bad is the degeneration?" she asked carefully.
"Don't worry about it."
"Epsilon," her warning voice rumbled low, fraught with concern even beneath that typical family anger.
"I have a chance at making it if F.I.L.S.S. transferred files are as intensive as she claimed they were on the cruiser," he said simply. "I mean. I'm not going to be half the AI fragment I used to be. More like - hold on lemme count one, two... - one eighth. But I mean. I'll still be fun to talk to."
Carolina grew quiet, reflecting on the news. "The sooner we do that the better, though, right?" she asked.
"Right," he replied, crossing his arms. "Which means you better get to Caboose pretty soon because there's no way I'm going to even start that process until we've visited Caboose, C."
She looked at him for a moment. If Epsilon had been anyone else in the world, he might have missed the soft fondness that fell on her features as she looked him over.
"When did you get so loyal to your friends?" she asked with a laugh.
"Hey, they're our family, Sis," he said with a shrug. "They're everything we have."
"Yeah, they are," she agreed, nodding to a nearby soldier as they stiffened up and saluted. She reached for a cube, tossed it a bit and looked to him. "Do you want to do the honors, Epsilon? I have the coordinates to Caboose and the others-"
He flickered, feeling an artificial swelling of his chest. "Already done did them, C."
"Alright, you big dork," she snorted, giving the cube a toss. "Let's reunite you with your best friend."
"Hey, one of," he corrected just be for the blankness of the flair.
For a moment, Epsilon became concerned that he overestimated his capacity to travel, that though his synthetic body hadn't been effected by transport before he pushed the limits too far, when slowly everything began to fade into alignment.
He heard Carolina talking smoothly to a few people, could make out what looked like an army barracks repurposed with medical equipment, then could see the big guy he always managed to underestimate how much he missed.
When he projected his spark, Epsilon wasn't expecting for the bandaged up giant to rise up, stiff as a board, from his hospital bed and nearly take every piece of IV and ECG equipment with him.
Caboose's heart monitor spiked, but the soldier's face lit up to match his shiny eyes.
"That's the first time he's had color in his cheeks since we got here," a nurse muttered just loud enough for Epsilon to hear.
He didn't care, though, because Caboose's eyes were full of tears and his grin was from ear to ear. "Church!" he cried out. "You came back!"
"Always do, buddy," Epsilon said softly. "Isn't that what I always promise?"
"You're even tinier," Caboose mumbled, leaning forward enough to poke through the projected spark.
"Okay, you're pushing the affection, dude."
"His ego's still fragile, Caboose, just ignore him," Carolina laughed, not even acknowledging that each missed poke met her shoulder.
"I will need even tinier crackers," Caboose announced very seriously.
And Epsilon felt himself really laugh for the first time in his own voice. It sounded good.
...
By the time Caboose has chilled out enough to go back to sleep, by the time Epsilon will let Carolina leave his side, there's a different Armonia waiting for them on the other side of the teleportation cube.
There's power again, and the survivors and returning ranks are bustling through the city, trying to put out fires and set their world back in working order, but it's something more than that. And it's not until the medical crews start pouring through a shoddily constructed teleporter headed by this mysterious enigma of Santa that Epsilon really started to feel he could grasp the situation for what it was.
There really didn't seem to be sides of an entirely other war anymore. There just seemed to be people, and the need to put back together their home.
And that hadn't really been more apparent than seeing Doctor Grey and General Kimball approaching Carolina.
"Tucker?" Epsilon asked, daring to spark over Carolina's shoulder.
"Doing well, but out like a light!" Grey informed them happily. "You've got quite a few hours before he's up and complaining. Probably enough for you to put yourself together again!"
Kimball nodded sagely. "When the generators came back online, we were able to hook up Lopez and this F.I.L.S.S. AI. She told us you would need our system to start some sort of regeneration process," she said almost softly. "Considering how much Doctor Grey and I will have to talk over our plans, I figured there was no better time to get you all hooked up than the present. Wouldn't you say?"
"Yeah, probably," Epsilon responded. "Gotta get those zeroes and ones back in the right order. It's killer how big a difference one in the wrong place can do."
Kimball's face actually grew fond for a moment, her head tilting slightly. "I think we know you're more than some numbers, Epsilon."
Epsilon processed the statement a few times, rolled it over in his slowly frying mind, and felt strangely endeared to the sentiment. "That means a lot, General Kimball," he settled on in a small, quiet voice.
"Show me to the computers," Carolina responded finally. "He likes acting tough, but I know how much he needs this."
"Right this way," Kimball said, turning and leading the Freelancer toward the hospital in a very much appreciated brisk pace.
"I can't thank you enough, General," Carolina continued, relief beginning to creep into her voice. "Epsilon... Epsilon means a lot to me. To all of us."
"I'm learning more why every day, Agent Carolina," Kimball responded in kind. "Sincerely, though, you and your men have done so much for us... we could never properly thank you on behalf of Chorus. Saving the people who tried to die on our behalves seems like the smallest, simplest returned favor possible."
"It kind of is," Epsilon couldn't help but interject.
"Epsilon," Carolina snorted. "Behave. More importantly, stop wasting the energy you have on misbehaving."
"Eh, it's what I do," Epsilon responded, feeling a cool relief as they were led into a computer room.
F.I.L.S.S.' familiar avatar filled every screen.
Greetings, Director. Agent Carolina. I do hope that everything is going well.
"Besides dying, I'd say everyone's gotten along pretty peachy, F.I.L.S.S., thanks for the concern," Epsilon snorted.
"Can you make the jump?" Carolina asked seriously.
"Sure, mild difficulty aside," he responded. Still, he hesitated, looking the room over. There was a huge chance that this wasn't going to work. Or, more than that, he wouldn't be the same Epsilon coming back. "Sis... would you... are you going to..."
"I'm waiting right here, no matter how long it takes," Carolina responded gently. "So keep that in mind if you get caught up on minor details. You've got a whole lot of people waiting on you to come out healthy and happy."
"I'm a Church, are we ever happy?"
"Epsilon. I'm serious."
He laughed. "Don't worry, C. You're good. Wash is good. Caboose. Tucker. The Reds. I've got a lot to keep me happy. Still. Y'know. If I do decide to not come out, don't force it-"
"Epsilon."
"No morbid joking until afterwards, got it," he said before taking one leap forward.
It was looking like a very good day. Even Doc did not seem so scary (his laugh was, though). And Doctor Grey smiled at him and gave him a hug after a check up. He was going to get to go home - not to the moon, but to the home was kind of just as great. The one with Church and Tucker and Agent Washington and Carolina and the Reds.
And when he got there, Agent Washington was there and gave him a big strong hug.
Tucker was sick, but Caboose thought that it was probably not that bad. Tucker was always trying to take Caboose's attention. Which wasn't a smart thing to do anymore because Caboose knew Santa now and he might not take back some of the things he would write to Santa about.
Church was away in a computer, but Agent Carolina seemed to think he was okay. Caboose would have waited on him, but she was already waiting. And took the only seat. Lopez was there, too, but Caboose really wasn't sure why.
He wasn't supposed to be walking around, but he wasn't going to lay there like some people when it had been so long since they got to say hello or even goodbye to everyone. And as long as Agent Washington was with him, Doctor Grey seemed happy. She was a really busy lady and Agent Washington made it sound like she was going to be even busier in the next little bit.
Agent Washington really wanted to get back to Tucker. Get Blue Team all together, but Tucker sleeping was really boring, Caboose was sure they wouldn't miss out on much if he found other people first.
Doc stuck with them until they saw the Reds minus Lopez. Sarge greeted Caboose with a punch in the arm (Agent Washington really didn't like that) and he seemed really happy. He was even showing off his shotgun - he said it'd helped stop the mean Felix, which was weird because unless that gun was like Freckles, Caboose wasn't really sure how it was supposed to be the one who shot Felix if Sarge wasn't shooting it?
The Reds were kind of silly like that.
Grif was in a wheelchair complaining about his leg, and Simmons was right by him, complaining about his leg being complained about. Caboose wondered if it was a joke he wasn't in on.
Doc and Donut hugged when they saw each other, and Doc didn't even sound like the O'Malley guy anymore. Then they took off their helmets. Then they did stuff.
Agent Washington turned him around, though, Caboose didn't know what happened.
The Reds were happy, at least that was what Caboose took out of it. They were all together and all loud and all complaining. They were kind of like Blues that way - and not at all like the color. Obviously.
After that, Agent Washington was concerned about business with General Kimball and Doctor Grey. Caboose wasn't sure why, but he remembered that Tex and Sister weren't supposed to get along because they were girls so maybe that was it. So Wash took Caboose back to the hospital, and this time he left him with the lieutenants. Which was way better than being left with sleeping, boring Tucker any day.
Smith - probably because he was Caboose's favorite - immediately came over and gave Caboose the biggest hug he'd gotten since Chorus. It was bigger than the one Agent Washington gave the first time Church left with Carolina.
Palomo was hurt, but unlike Tucker he was bright and talkative, telling Caboose about all that had happened since they left Caboose with Doc - about Felix and Tucker and the explosions. He told it so well that Caboose reconsidered telling stories to Santa about Tucker. Tucker had a good reason to sleep after all.
Bitters was sleeping in a corner chair like he hadn't rest in days, and Golov was quiet, though he smiled and told Caboose he was happy he felt better. He wasn't such a bad guy, Caboose could see why Tucker liked him.
Jensen popped up on a computer screen to greet him, told them all that Kimball and Grey had her working on radios big enough to talk to the UNSC when they got there. Caboose thought that had to be a pretty big radio - bigger than any he'd know what to do with.
But it wasn't long before Caboose decided to leave the lieutenants. He wasn't bored, but he felt bad. So he sat with Tucker. It's where Agent Washington found him. And it's where he was when Agent Carolina radioed him directly.
"I'm going to have scars here," Caboose continued, pointing to his stomach, still all covered in bandages. "Aaaand here," he continued, pointing at his back, but it hurt more so he didn't touch it. "Oh, and Tucker's got a lot. But I don't know where. He's a mummy right now. Agent Washington says to not say that. Do you think he's scared of mummies?"
"I don't know," Church said back, his tiny hologram sitting in the air right before Caboose. "I would be. They probably stink."
"Yeah, I'd say if you put someone in a box for a really long time and don't give them new underwears, it'd be stinky," Caboose nodded. "Maybe we should tell them to change Tucker's underwear."
"Tucker doesn't wear underwear."
"Oh, yes. Yes, that's right." Caboose sat back, truly thinking about it for a moment, before he sat back up, head to the side. "Is that why Tucker smells funny."
"No, that's his cologne. Alpha's told him since Blood Gulch to not..." Church stopped for a bit, his tiny baby face frowning. "Anyway. It's too much. That's why he smells funny."
"Oh, okay, then," Caboose responded readily. He felt tired even as he leaned back against the wall. It only made his eyes heavier.
"You look really tired, buddy," Church said softly. "Do you want to go to bed?"
"I want to be awake to tell everyone how happy I am to see them," Caboose announced. "But I am pretty tired. I might nap in between."
"I think that's a good idea. You've already done a lot today."
"So did you!" Caboose whined. "You saved a planet."
"We all saved a planet. I just, y'know, carried most of the weight. As usual," Church snarked.
"Yeah," Caboose yawned. "Hey, Church? Can I ask you something? Why do you sound so different?"
If possible, the hologram of the teenage-ish boy went stock still - like a movie on pause - then disappeared into a small blue spark. There was a mechanical whine from the machines around them, then the spark picked up a glow as it spoke, "Is it that bad?"
"I don't think it's bad, I think it's different," Caboose said honestly. "You're still my best friend."
The little avatar returned, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. "Really?"
"If you want to be," Caboose nodded, yawning. "Okay. Sorry, Church, I'll tell you more stories later. I'm going to go to bed," he announced, achingly rising from the floor.
"Oh. O-okay, Caboose! Uh. Be careful. And stuff," Church called after him.
Caboose stopped for a moment, looking in the hallway and seeing Agent Carolina waiting just outside the room's door. She had a sad, soft smile. She looked tired.
"Hello, Agent Carolina," Caboose greeted with a lion's yawn. "Are Agent Washington and Tucker still in the same room?"
"They are, Caboose," she responded gently. "Are you all done in there with Epsilon?"
"Yeah, we're going to tell more stories later," Caboose explained. He stopped, a little quiet as he reflected on everything. When he met Carolina's gaze again, he tried to give her a very serious look. "Agent Carolina?"
"Yes, Caboose?" she asked almost curiously.
"I was thinking, you know Church. Church talks loud and stuff, and acts like he doesn't care. And shouts at people. And says he doesn't like people. But he really cares what people think a lot," Caboose explained as eloquently as he could. "And he cares about me a lot. But he cares a lot about you, too. And I was just hoping... well, Agent Carolina, do you love Church a lot?"
Her expression was mostly neutral as she followed him, but with the question she almost looked confused. "I'm not in love with Epsilon, Caboose," she said firmly.
"No, I know. I mean... aren't we a family?" he tried again. "And we love each other. And you and Wash are like the mommy and daddy. And Church is my best big brother in the world. And then Tucker's in boarding school."
Carolina stopped for a moment, then honest to god laughed, even going so far as to snort. "Yes, Caboose," she agreed. "We're a family. I love Epsilon as family. You, too. Now get to bed."
"Okay, good," Caboose sighed with relief before heading out.
He could hear Carolina asking Church if he was ready for something. But it didn't really matter. Caboose was too tired and feeling too happy to get caught up on it.
Epsilon was a different presence in her mind by that point. There was no getting around that. Different, though, wasn't bad. It was like Caboose had said when he was comforting their favorite AI.
And it was true. Epsilon was, after all, her brother.
"Are you ready?" she asked him softly as she entered the room, hardly able to contain her smile at the familiar and expected warmth crawling through her implants again.
"Hell yeah," he responded.
"Should I be concerned with such language from a child?" she asked as she started toward the hall again.
"Don't be a jerk," he messaged back, tongue flickering in his hologram.
The small amusement was enough to hold her over as she continued down the hall, found herself a little surprised by who was waiting on her. Wash was tired and bruised, but standing in full attention before joining her side on their stroll.
"Tucker alright?" she asked Wash.
"He'll be sore for a while, so I guess I can't make him run the obstacle course," Wash joked. "But, yeah. He'll be okay. I saw Caboose on his way toward the room and figured since I'm the missing link in this little exposition I might as well as show up."
"Let Reds and Blues rest a bit?"
"Blues and Reds," both Epsilon and Washington corrected.
"Oh my god, the insanity never stops," Carolina moaned in faux annoyance.
"It's alphabetical," Wash defended.
"And by order of most ass kicked," Epsilon added.
Washington blinked a bit, pointing toward Epsilon's hologram. "Is he... um."
"Babyish?" Carolina asked, ignoring Epsilon's groan.
"I was going to say more youthful, but sure," Wash chuckled. He then cocked his head to the side a bit. "You look good, Epsilon."
"Oh, don't try to butter me up. Just introduce me to your new computer friend, Wash."
"I think we're all rather interested in meeting this friend."
They looked up to see the new leaders of Chorus standing by the makeshift transporter constructed for the patients earlier. Kimball and Grey don't seem overly friendly, but the apprehension between a Fed and a New was far from the dire dread that filled the room just days before, when Carolina thought sticking closer to Kimball's side among her Federal soldiers would cause her to rip out all her hair. It was progress. It was, truly, a little Blue and Red.
"With this AI, you really believe that we can recover hundreds from the war? People we thought were dead?" Kimball asked seriously, arms crossed uncertainly.
"Yes," Wash said with a nod. "It'll take some time, bringing back small groups so that we can reorient them, make sure no one's going to still be fighting the civil war before we can get us all on the same page. But I've been assured that each of them should be fine." He looked more to Doctor Grey. "Including our friends from Outpost Thirty-seven."
She smiled softly in return. "Then I say, our first order of business, as the New Army of Chorus, is to start bringing our soldiers home."
"Our people home," Kimball agreed with a nod. "Unite us before the UNSC even gets here."
Carolina noticed the way Kimball - so much younger than Carolina had ever realized - looked to her for some encouragement. Epsilon and Carolina both nodded to her, chests filling a bit with pride at how far they had seen the general come.
"Alright then!" Grey said excitedly, hands rubbing together. "Let's bring this to an end."
"Good, that's all settled," Wash said, looking to the transporter. "Come on out, Santa."
