This is a long one but only because I had WAAAAAAYYYYYYYY too much fun with the banter throughout this one like omg. It was great. I hope it's half as enjoyable for you guys as it was for me to write haha

Special thanks to icefrozenover, washingtonstub, xhauntedangel, secretlystephaniebrown, analiarvb, notatroll7, Yin, freshzombiewriter, thatgothamgurl, Bluebird202, Linni, and monaman1 for the feedback!

Recovery None
Recovery One XVI: Fulfilling Destiny

Nothing was ever going to convince Washington that this was not a truly, truly terrible idea.

But, as with every other important matter he had concerned himself with since ending up among the simulation troopers of Blood Gulch, he found his complaints patently ignored.

Honestly, he wasn't sure how these people would survive without him, even if they didn't seem nearly as worried.

When he approached the encampment that Tucker and – Wash could only sigh every time he remembered Caboose's name for the damaged but dangerous Sangheilli warrior – Crunchbite were settled in. The perimeter had proved itself secure an hour before, but Wash was anal retentive about safety.

Or paranoid, as Tucker constantly kept reminding him.

When he got closer, Crunchbite's unique grunts, honks, and blarghs became apparent in a low, steady stream. Then he moved away from Tucker who, despite all logic when left alone with a crazed and easily angered alien, had only about half of his armor on.

The simulation trooper at least had the decency to look utterly baffled.

"Back off," Wash said in warning to Crunchbite as the alien's jaws quivered threateningly at him. "I said back off."

After a moment, Crunchbite complied and Wash rounded on Tucker.

"Would you stop letting him push you around?" Wash demanded.

"Yeah, sure, Wash, I'll get right on that," Tucker replied sarcastically. "Would you stop going off on ultra manly perimeter checks and actually keep me company while we're with the alien with the huge dong?"

"Stop looking at it if it bothers you so much," Wash snarked back before dropping to sit beside Tucker, though he didn't dare remove his armor. All his bones and muscles ached with injuries and overuse.

He must have made some sort of wounded noise in doing so because Tucker was looking at him with even more concern.

"Wash, are you going to drop dead on this journey?" he asked seriously.

"Well, considering I've made it this far in my life – and that's not nearly as easy as it sounds – I'm going to say… no. Probably not," he answered somewhat cheekily. "Sorry to disappoint."

"God, I'm so sick of your self-depreciating," Tucker groaned. "It's like being around Church."

Wash raised a brow and looked Tucker's way. "Aren't you friends?"

"Not according to the jackass," Tucker replied. He paused for a moment, considering something and then sighed. "Yeah, we're friends. Fuck. That's so lame."

"It's not like you have many options in that canyon," Wash admitted. "Though, now that you all know there's no war against… Blues and Reds, maybe you can make friends with some of them? They seem…" Wash waited for a word to come to mind. It didn't. "Nevermind."

"Nah, you have a point," Tucker shrugged. "And I guess they're okay. Now that I don't have to irrationally hate them or anything anymore. Grif's cool. And who doesn't like Donut?"

Awkwardly, Wash shifted in his seat.

It didn't go unnoticed and Tucker turned and looked at him. "You don't like Donut? Seriously? Who the fuck doesn't like Donut–"

"I didn't say I didn't like him! I didn't say anything!" Wash pointed out.

"Dude, you don't have to with that expression," Tucker scoffed.

"I'm wearing a helmet! You can't see what I look like!"

"Dude, if you don't think I've become a goddamn expert at reading body language through metal suits, you have vastly underestimated my need to check out asses,"

"I don't hate Donut!" Wash yelled before catching himself. He shook his head and, more calmly, explained, "I don't hate Donut. At all. But he doesn't like me."

"That doesn't seem physically possible for Donut," Tucker argued.

"Well, he's not without reason," Wash explained.

"What'd you do? Call his armor pink?" Tucker interrogated.

"No," Wash admitted lowly. "I… shot a Red in front of him."

"Holy shit, how'd I miss this? Which one?" Tucker asked.

"None of the ones we know," Wash explained. "It was the Red who shot me – before I met you all in Blood Gulch. He was working with Wyoming back at Sidewinder and I killed him."

Tucker blinked widely at him for a moment before snorting, taking Wash completely aback.

"What you killed one dude we don't know? What the fuck does he care? He blew up Tex, and the Reds had no idea she was a robot!" Tucker laughed.

Wash stared at Tucker for a moment before feeling a frown tug at his face. "It's… You all thought you were at war. He was protecting people. I know better – I'm not like you all. I don't have that excuse of plausible deniability. I…" Wash looked away, thinking about the Red that shot him in the back. "I enabled a system that's using all of you. That's demeaning your lives. And I didn't care about anyone else abused by that system but me. I couldn't see past my own hindrance by Freelancer, past wanting revenge on someone who was being ground down by it, too."

Silence fell between them for a long, uncomfortable moment.

"Well," Tucker said. "Shit. I kinda hate you now, too."

"You're hilarious," Wash sighed. "But, seriously, your first reaction to finding out all of this was fake was to question everyone, to not want to kill the Reds anymore, to reach out. I've… God, who knows how many simulation troopers I used as disposable before now."

"Yeah, I wasn't kidding, you keep going and I might use my fucking fantastic sword of specialness on you," Tucker said, his dark eyes piercing through Wash. "That's fucked up, Wash. But… At least you know it? And look, you're with me and Crunchbite on some stupid Journey of Destiny or some shit. That's like… I don't know. The least self serving thing you've done since you arrived at Blood Gulch. Congrats!"

Taking a breath, Wash rested back against the rocks. "Yeah. It's definitely not a pleasure cruise. I can't even imagine what my drill sergeant would be saying at me not shooting an Elite on sight."

"You're telling me," Tucker groaned. "It smells so fucking bad and every time I wake up with it hovering over me I want to kick it in its alien john thomas."

Confused, Wash glanced sideways toward Tucker. "Why is it hovering over you? And why are you just now telling me this?"

"Because you'd come over and try to rescue me or some shit," Tucker defended.

"Of course I would! That's the whole point of me coming with you!" Wash yelled back.

"God, you're so hysterical all the time, I swear," Tucker said dismissively, beginning to put his armor back on bit by bit.

"You're… You're too chill," Wash responded, as if he had a real zinger. When nothing else came to him, he got to his feet and reloaded his gun. "Shut up."

Tucker raised an eyebrow at him before pulling on his helmet.

It was just in time as Crunchbite came back from wherever he had gone and let out a long series of unintelligible grunts and honks that Wash was sure Caboose would try to make sense of but left him and Tucker simply staring.

"Psst, Wash," Tucker stage whispered. "What's he want?"

"I don't know, Tucker," Wash sighed in aggravation, watching as Crunchbite turned and started marching toward the deserts again. "I'm sure it's just following him. Like we've always been following him. This is leading us straight into some kind of trap, I swear to god."

"Maybe I'm god now that I have this sword and he's leading me to my worshippers," Tucker said, brazenly dashing out the sword again.

Wash eyed him. "I'd hope not."

"What? Why?" Tucker asked. "That is the least pessimistic outcome for this trip that either of us have come up with since this thing started. In fact, it sounds fucking amazing to me. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner."

"You need a boost to your ego about as much as I need another bullet in me," Wash said flatly.

"Wow, that was almost funny. You adding that to your routine for Hi I'm Wash and My Schtick is that I'm too Serious tour?" Tucker asked just as flatly in return.

"Must you fight me on every goddamn sentence between us?" Wash sighed.

"Oh, absolutely. Or else we'd just be silently walking through the desert behind some half-sentient alien that smells like day old elephant spunk," Tucker replied quickly. He then let out a loud gasp. "That's what that smell is! I finally placed it!"

Once more, Washington found himself curling his nose at Tucker.

"How in the world do you know what elephant semen smells like?" Wash asked, immediately regretting the course of action.

"Dude, obviously you need to get out more," Tucker replied with a wave of his hand.

"That answers nothing. Honestly, it begs more questions," Washington replied just before there was a mighty roar from their guide. Instinctively, he drew up his gun and stepped between the alien and Tucker, Crunchbite in his sights.

"Dude, what's he pissed off about!?" Tucker asked, a note of genuine worry in his voice for once.

Squinting, Wash kept his aim up. "I'm starting to realize that you've been asking me for translations this entire journey like you actually expect me to have them for you. So just in case I have somehow managed to not be clear enough for you yet, Tucker, let me put on the record now that I have absolutely no idea how to speak outrageous honking alien dialect."

"Oh, my god, your inability to read sarcasm is only matched by your inability to take rhetorical questions!" Tucker snapped.

In the midst of their yelling, Crunchbite lowered himself, let out another dangerous sounding snarl, and then immediately began bolting toward the desert, honking and blarghing all the way.

Wash dropped his gun some. "What the…"

"I think he thinks there's danger ahead," Tucker stage whispered.

"No duh," Wash fired back before lowering down to a crouch. "Follow my lead. We're going to follow, in stealth. We don't know what's going on here, and I don't feel like getting shot alongside your elephant splooge smelling alien if there's a platoon of soldiers up ahead or something."

Tucker began cackling, though he did crouch and stick to the shadows with Wash. "Oh my god, I can't believe I just heard Agent Washington say splooge."

"Focus!" Wash warned before leading the advance forward.


Honestly, considering Niner's outrage, Tex tried to think of the positives. Like how at least she hadn't been shot the moment the pilot saw her carrying in a limp Carolina.

"What did you do?" Niner demanded. "What the fuck was that out there?"

"Don't know," Tex half lied, putting Carolina on the cot available just outside of the cockpit. "How fast can you fly this thing if I send you the coordinates?"

"Don't you change the subject!" Niner snapped, reaching their sides and looking over Carolina. "Where's she bleeding?"

"Nowhere. She's not physically hurt," Tex answered, taking note of the dried blood around the cot. They had had their fair share of close calls already, it seemed.

"Then what the fuck happened–"

"Epsilon."

Both women turned to look down at Carolina. The word had come out like a gasp for air and she bolted up, still rasping for air, her fingers coming up and scratching at the collar of her underarmor.

Tex began to reach to help but Niner elbowed her out of the way and immediately began pulling off the latches for Carolina's helmet. "Hold on, hold on, I'm gonna help you breathe," she promised before pulling the helmet off entirely.

Carolina's green eyes were as wide as dinner plates, darting around. "I can't hear Epsilon, he was… That screaming, the Alpha–"

Even the bare mention of Church was enough for Tex to want to overlook everything else going on. She sent the coordinates directly to the cockpit's computer and caused the ship to turn on remotely.

Niner looked back and then to Tex angrily. "Are you fucking with my ship?"

"We need to get going," Tex said plainly.

"We need to have a conversation about whatever the fuck is going on!" Niner fired back immediately.

"Epsilon," Carolina continued, her focus was still on Niner, but her hand reached back toward her neck. "He's not– What happened to him–"

"I have him," Tex answered, drawing Carolina's gaze to her and producing the chip in her hands that held the AI. She then looked to Niner who was still about as angry as Tex had seen her. "Here's your answer as to what the fuck happened – it was Epsilon. Just like we were worried about before. Now can you get us to the coordinates I sent your ship as fast as possible? We need to beat an ATV there."

Niner still glared at Tex suspiciously before beginning to roll toward the cockpit. "An ATV? I could beat an ATV to any coordinates even if we took an hour here."

Still, the pilot did as told and got into her seat.

Leaving Tex with the elephant in the room.

Carolina was staring at her with a completely unreadable mesh of emotions. Her hand was still pressed to the back of her neck and she stared at the chip in Tex's hand.

"You pulled him?" Carolina asked, voice almost shaking.

"No," Tex answered stiffly. "He ejected himself."

As they stared at each other, lapsing into silence, the ship began to take off. Tex didn't so much as budge even as the momentum of the ship changed. Neither did Carolina.

"Why would he do that?" Carolina asked almost angrily.

"Don't know, but it was by far the smartest thing he's done since you two got a hold of one another," Tex answered. "He's not a regular AI. He's… not even a regular fragment. They're not supposed to be broken like that–"

"Yes, they are," Carolina snapped darkly. There was water welling in her eyes, but she quickly rubbed them clear. "They're all broken. That's what he does to things – leaves them broken when they're not of use anymore. Sometimes he breaks them to use them…"

She was talking so fast that the words probably should have been taken as barely conscious gibberish. But Tex didn't take them that way at all.

Instead, she listened to the truth of every syllable, and let it burn into her own coding.

"Yes," she finally agreed. "Epsilon's broken."

"That's why I need him," Carolina said, sniffing and rubbing at her face still. "I… Thank you. For gabbing him. But when I… When I have more confidence he's going back where he belongs. With me."

"No he's not," Tex responded. "You're going to kill each other–"

"No, he needs me," Carolina argued, her green eyes darted to Tex's face. They buried into her. "And I need him back. He's. You don't understand. He's on my side. And I can't let go of him. I won't."

Tex stared back, rubbing her thumb over the chip as she tried to think things through.

"I can be on your side," Tex offered.

"No. You can't," Carolina nearly hissed.

"I can," Tex said firmly. "You know I can. You… You know what happened back there–"

"I made a mistake while I was confused," Carolina snapped angrily. "Don't you dare use that to manipulate me–"

"So that's it. We're just not going to talk about it?" Tex asked. She wasn't angry, disappointed some. But not angry. Or surprised for that matter.

"What is there to talk about?" Carolina asked icily. She then looked at Tex with the shell shocked expression fading. "What is there, huh? You're six inches taller than her. Your voice is different. You're a computer program. I made a mistake under stress. I need to talk to Epsilon, so give him to me."

Tex made no motion to offer the chip over.

The tension grew at an exponential rate, Carolina's shoulders began trembling. "You're not her! Alright? You're not! And I am not going to discuss this any further with you–"

"I know I'm no one else," Tex snapped back. "I'm myself. I've always been myself. I'm not what anyone else tries to make me. Never have been. That's why I betrayed him–"

"STOP talking about him!" Carolina snarled.

"It's why we're heading back to Blood Gulch right now and helping Wash protect the Alpha. Because that's my choice and those are my people down there. Including the Alpha. Including Wash. Including my gaggle of losers," Tex continued.

"I don't know what you're even talking about anymore," Carolina hissed. "I don't care who your people are."

"That's fine," Tex responded. "I'm making the point, though, that I know exactly who I am. I fought my way, tooth and nail, clawed myself out of the hell of his making in order to find out just who I was. And I'm goddamn proud and goddamn protective of that." She tilted her head. "So the only factor I have to worry about is whether or not you know I'm not her."

"Of course I do–"

"Because he never got it," Tex said flatly.

Carolina's eyes were like cool fire. Explosive, painful.

"You're not my mother," Carolina said angrily. "She's dead."

"I know," Tex said softly. "And I'm sorry for that."

"Why are we doing this?" Carolina asked.

"Because I need to make sure – make for sure for real – that you know that we're different," Tex said simply. "You have a one track mind, Carolina. You want revenge. And you won't be getting it on my… on Church. My Church. He's not him. And I'm not her."

"Good," Carolina said shortly.

Tex let there continue to be a tight silence again before she moved toward Carolina and held out the Epsilon chip. "Fine. Just make sure he knows the difference now, too. Him being Epsilon does not make him the Alpha or him. And as long as he struggles with figuring that out, this little hiccup won't be a one off issue for you."

Carolina quickly grabbed the chip and looked to it before glancing toward Tex again. "Did you know? Did you ever know?"

Staring back at Carolina, Tex squared herself. "Not really. No. Maybe a little. Toward the end, once I… Once Connecticut left me the message to inform me who I was."

Lip curling, Carolina's hands tightened into fists. "You killed her. She was doing the right thing. The only one of us doing the right thing."

"I know," Tex said lowly. "Now I'm trying to do the right thing."


They lost sight of Crunchbite fairly early on. That would make sense considering the alien was charging headlong into the desert while Washington forced himself and Tucker to keep to the shadows, moving barely at a crawl.

"This is so stupid," Tucker whined again.

"Well, I agree. But one of us had to think he was some chosen one and follow a barely sentient monster halfway across the planet," Wash hissed over his shoulder.

"God, I can't stand you when you get so uptight," Tucker said with a giant full body shrug. "I'm just glad that Church isn't here or else I'd be getting shit from both of you at the same time you two would be strangling each other."

Wash let out a huff. "He couldn't take me."

"Oh my god, did Freelancer require everyone to be full of themselves or is it just something besides banging that you and Tex share?" Tucker snapped.

"We never–"

"Alright fuckers!"

The new voice called out from across the dunes ahead of them, shocking them both. Wash held out his arm as if to stop Tucker which only got an annoyed groan from him. Washington didn't care. He was staring straight ahead at the source of the intercom.

"I know you're there, assholes! This is highly classified terrain and you do not have clearance to come any closer to the dig site!"

"Yeah, well, I'm the fucking chosen one, so I think that's my clearance!" Tucker yelled back.

"Tucker, shut up! You're giving out position!" Wash snapped.

"Dude, aren't you listening? They already have our position. If we're fucked we're fucked," Tucker replied sharply. "Like when you fucked Tex behind Church's back."

"I didn't!" Wash yelled, voice cracking.

"What the hell – chosen one?" the person said, more muddled, probably away from his intercom. "Okay whatever. I don't give a fuck. Come out with your hands up. Weapons holstered! I'm not even remotely in the area of fucking around!"

"Is that why they gave you the intercom?" Tucker yelled back.

"Tucker," Wash all but groaned.

"Look, dude, we're fucked one way or the other, at least allow me to have my sense of humor," Tucker shrugged before standing up and putting his hands up.

Wash blinked before looking at Tucker mortified. "What are you doing?"

Tucker tilted his head toward Wash. "Uh… Not getting shot? Have you ever tried giving that a chance? Oh, wait. Forgot who I was talking to. Of course you've never taken the not getting fucking shot option."

"I…" Wash began to argue but he found it difficult to parse even in his own mind. With a long sigh, he holstered his rifle over his shoulder and stood up beside Tucker, hands up.

"See? Was that so hard?" Tucker asked.

"I'm a wanted man on this planet," Wash reminded him. "We may have just surrendered ourselves to being shot regardless. Just in case you forgot."

"I didn't, I just remembered that you're the wanted one. Not me," Tucker half shrugged. "Besides, do you know how many people there are in the world with armor? I think every goddamn person on this planet is in this armor. You really think you're the only one with gray armor and a yellow stripe?"

There was an audible sneer from the intercom. "A Freelancer."

"Yes," Washington said flatly.

"Oh, well, you're fucked. I'm just another dumb Blue," Tucker joked.

"You're hilarious," Wash said dryly. He then looked toward the sound. "I'm from Command. I have been hired to transport this Blue from his station to your Command center. We're merely passing through. There's no need for alarm."

Tucker tilted his head even more. "Man, you're way too good at lying."

"Tucker, shut up, for both our sakes," Wash hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

"No. No you haven't," the voice on the intercom said, coming forward from the sand dunes and revealing a very familiar brown armor.

Wash visibly flinched at the sight of it – that armor. Connie's armor. But it wasn't his friend wearing it – too tall and broad. The fit was wrong. And any PFL insignias were scratched off of it.

Apparently sensing the intensity radiating from Wash, Tucker turned more toward the former Recovery agent and said in a highly concerned tone, "Uh… Wash? You alright–"

"Where did you get that armor!?" Wash growled at the man.

"From a friend," the man snapped back. "And I know exactly why you two are here. You're here to take what we've uncovered from the alien ruins for yourselves. For Freelancer."

"No we aren't!" Tucker yelled back. "Wait… Actually I don't know. Are we? That kinda sounds like a part of the Chosen One journey, doesn't it?"

Wash was far beyond paying attention to Tucker and the nonsense of their journey anymore. The current threat, and the immediate outrage he was feeling toward this unexpected reminder of the past, was eclipsing everything else.

"You need to remove that armor right now," Wash said, dropping his hands. "That isn't yours."

Tucker's shoulders raised defensively. "Wash… dude… What're we doing?"

"You Freelancers are so full of shit," the man in Connie's armor snapped. "I'm the one in charge here, and even if I wasn't, I'd shoot you right between the eyes for what your program did to my friends, did to Connie, and how every second I spend on this soul sucking planet, digging in dirt and securing ridiculous artifacts for these fuckers in charge, I can feel myself go a little more crazy."

"You should try living here without any supply drops for a few months," Tucker attempted to alleviate the tension. "If anyone here has a right to be pissed off or crazy, it's probably me and the others in Blood G–"

"Don't give him location names," Wash stopped him short.

"Shut the fuck up, Sim Trooper, I've got no orders to keep any of you alive or to salvage your equipment. So when I kill you I'm just going to fuck you over however I want!"

"Bow Chicka Bow Wow–"

"Don't you dare threaten him!" Wash yelled. "You won't even have a chance when I'm done with you–"

The mysterious man raised a gun and pointed it right at Wash. "Come on, Freelancer. Make my fucking day!"

Then, Tucker did something outrageously stupid.

"Okay, well, let's go a single day without Wash getting shot," Tucker said before pulling out his sword and igniting it.

"Tucker!" Wash snapped, alarmed as the man's attention fell on Tucker.

"You… You have it!?" the man growled.

"Yeah!" Tucker yelled. "Whatever… it is!"

"The key!" the man cried out. "The one in all the hieroglyphs! The one we need to open the temple!"

"Then you're going to need Tucker," Wash said, thinking fast. "Because it only works for him."

The man in Connie's armor laughed near hysterically. "You honestly have no idea how any of this works, do you? I don't need him. I need him dead. That way the key will work for the next person to activate it–"

"No!" Wash roared at the same time as Tucker cried out, "IT'S A FUCKING KEY!?"

Before things could further unravel, there was a familiar honk just as Crunchbite erupted from the sands behind the raving madman in Connie's armor. Once tackled, the man started shooting and Crunchbite began tearing and snarling and biting the man all over with the very strength and ferocity that Wash had warned Tucker about seeing in the field of the War.

"Holy fucking shit, what is going on?" Tucker cried out, looking to his sword. "It's a key!?"

Wash lowered to one knee, quickly pulled his gun out from its holster and took aim. "Yes, Tucker, it seems your amazing journey is to unlock something with the key."

He then took an active shot and drilled the man right through the helmet. He watched as he went from struggling against Crunchbite to going completely limp.

"Oh, man, I'm so pissed about this, I think I'm getting physically sick over it," Tucker announced, grabbing his sides and sheathing the sword.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Wash replied, getting to his feet and walking toward Crunchbite and their former hostage. "Uh… thank you… Crunchbite–"

The alien held back its head and released a long, single roar, revealing the multiple gunshot wounds across his torso before dropping to his knees and then fully into the sand.

Surprised, Washington dropped down beside Crunchbite and gave him a look over just as Tucker ran over to his side.

"Is he…?" Tucker asked, arching over Wash's shoulder.

"Sorry, Tucker," Wash said, looking back to him. "Your alien expired."

"And my sword's a fucking key," Tucker bemoaned. He then glanced toward the man in Connie's armor. "And just who the fuck is this guy? What was his beef with you and alien shit?"

"I… have absolutely no idea," Wash replied, getting to his feet and glaring at the man. "I want to say he's not a Freelancer given what happened the last time I saw that armor it was on a… friend. A friend who betrayed the program. But…"

"But?" Tucker pressed.

"I don't know," Wash sighed. "Tucker, have you ever had that feeling that, I don't know, that there's something much bigger than yourself going on? That you barely scratch the surface of it?"

Tucker stood beside him, just staring at Wash.

Catching on, Wash nodded. "Oh, right."

"Yeah, I mean. At this point big conspiracies are the leas surprising thing that happens around me these days," Tucker grunted before doubling over his stomach. "Fuck. That and intense fucking pain."

Wash squinted at him. "What is wrong with you?"

"I'm legitimately sick, dude, I'm about to throw up in my helmet," he moaned. "Maybe I'm more upset about Crunchbite sacrificing himself than I thought. Or I'm upset about the key thing. Definitely the key thing HRRK! Good thing our helmets are made for vomiting in."

"They're not," Wash said flatly. "Trust me. Here– I'll help you get that helmet off and then we're going ho– We're going back to Blood Gulch. I'm declaring this bullshit over. We gathered nothing from your Chosen One journey."

As he helped Tucker take off his helmet, the man gave a low laugh. "Well, you know what they say, Wash. It's not the journey but the friends you make on the way. And the aliens who never spoke the same language as you but smelled like elephant bunk."

"It's something like that," Wash agreed, unable to stop the smile on his face, hidden beneath his helmet. "Hurry up and barf so we can leave the desert. You're probably dehydrated."

"God I hope so," Tucker moaned. "Does dehydration kick you from the inside?"

Wash shrugged. "I don't know– Wait what?"


"Tex!" Niner shouted from the cockpit. "Is this the right place? It's the coordinates you gave me, but it's just a box canyon."

Not even bothering to get up from her seat, Tex answered. "Yes."

Carolina looked up, still sitting upright with her elbows on her knees, head hung so that her mess of hair was strung across her face. When she peered at Tex, it was not exactly a look of appreciation.

"Are you going to stare at me the whole time I'm having this private conversation with Epsilon?" she asked snappishly.

"You forget easily for someone so known for grudges," Tex said back flatly. "He scrambled your brains and left them with a side of toast a few hours ago. My expectations for how well this is going are not high."

"He knows what he did and he's sorry," Carolina answered.

"Then why doesn't he say that himself?" Tex asked, tilting her head.

"Because he remembers things and he doesn't want to see you," Carolina bit out. "I agree that it's not the best idea."

"That's fair," Tex said "Not healthy. Not good long term. But it's fair."

Neither of them said a word as the ship shifted into landing momentum. When Carolina made it obvious that she wasn't going to be the one to break the stare, Tex let out a long sigh and got to her feet, reaching for her gun and heading toward the door to wait for it to open.

"I thought these were your people," Carolina said, grabbing her helmet. "Why do you need a gun?"

"Because I know my people well enough to not trust them," Tex replied dryly "They've killed me twice already."

"Really?" Carolina asked, grabbing her own weapons. "I might have underestimated how much enjoyment I'll be getting out of this."

Tex looked over her shoulder at Carolina. "Your teamwork skills suck. Why were you getting onto me about my ability to work with teams?"

The door opened without Tex getting her answer, and instead she just led the way over to Blue Base. It felt strange in her chest – like coming home. Tex didn't exactly have much experience with that feeling, but she suspected that this was what it felt like.

"You've got to be kidding me," Carolina said, interrupting the moment and drawing Tex's attention back to her. "Are my scanners correct? Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha? Are they that on the nose?"

"Basic incompetence is the name of the game," Tex assured her just before there was a familiar rumbling of the ground. "Well, never thought I'd take comfort in that feeling?"

Carolina raised her gun. "That feeling being what exactly?" she asked nervously.

"That is the feeling of an approaching three ton Scorpion Tank," Tex said.

"And you're not alarmed because…?"

"We've been friends since she killed me the first time," Tex said.

It was difficult to ignore the look of scrutiny that Carolina was giving Tex as Sheila continued the approach, gun aimed, and stopped short of her.

"Oh! Agent Texas! Is that you?" Sheila asked excitedly. "I have been watching Blue Base as instructed for so long! It is good to have someone back."

Carolina dropped her gun then and tilted her head in curiosity. "FILSS?"

Sheila's gun moved from Tex to Carolina then back. "I am confused. That is the second time since my systems update that someone has addressed me as FILSS. But Church assured me while he was here that I go by the designation Sheila now. How odd. I will document these anomalies."

Tex looked at Sheila curiously. "What– Wait, first, what do you mean 'while he was here'? Are you saying that Church isn't here now? Where the hell is he – where the hell is everyone?"

"Processing," Sheila said in a gentle hum before there was an audible ding. "Oh!" Her gun turned toward the caves. "There is Agent Washington and Private Tucker approaching now! How nice to see everyone coming back together at the same time! It is most convenient!"

"Wash…" Carolina said lowly.

"What the fuck?" Tex yelled, storming toward the two of them and ignoring Carolina's bafflement for the moment, There were bigger fish to fry. "Wash! What the actual fuck is going on?"

"Oh shit," Tucker moaned, arm over Wash's shoulder. "Tex made it back before us."

"Of course she did," Wash said flatly. "She didn't have to stop every ten minutes to let someone throw up."

"Dude, I'm telling you, I don't know what I ate to give me this!"

"Where the hell have the two of you been!?" Tex demanded.

"It's a long story, don't ask," Wash recommended. He then froze, staring just over Tex's shoulder. He straightened up immediately, dropping Tucker to the ground with a thud and a long whine. "Boss?"

Tex glanced back toward Carolina. She stepped out to the side more to see Wash more directly and give him a half nod. "Hello, Washington."

"But… what… I don't understand," Wash said, looking more and more confused. "You're here… but how? Why– I mean. Hi, I'm glad you're alive."

"Same to you," Carolina said tightly.

Getting angrier by the second, Tex slammed her hands together for a thundering clap and drew everyone's attention back to her. "Wash! Where the fuck is Church and Caboose? Sheila said they left. Are they in the caves with you?"

"No?" Wash said, equally confused. "They were coming back here with the Reds. They should've gotten here… I don't know, ages ago. I can't keep track with this sun never setting."

"You don't know," Tex repeated, her temper rising. "You don't know!? What the fuck, Wash, I left you in charge!"

"You left me in charge while I was dying in a pool of my own blood, as I remember correctly," Wash snapped back. "I made the best of the situation. We had… distractions thanks to Tucker's stupid sword."

"What kind of distractions?" Tex all but hissed.

"Turns out the sword's not a sword but some kind of key to unlock something we never found because our tour guide was filled with lead before we got there," Wash answered. "By some asshole wearing Connecticut's armor."

"What?" Carolina and Tex spat out at once.

"I ran into that bastard before – York and I did at least," Carolina informed them. "He's one of the Insurrectionists and he was working with North and South."

"What?" Tex and Wash took their turn saying in unison.

"Is… Is everyone alive?" Wash demanded. "Where the fuck are they all? Why didn't anyone tell me–"

"Okay we're getting distracted from what's important," Tex growled at both of them.

"The fact that I'm dying?" Tucker complained from the ground where he was now curled up around himself.

"No," Tex said. She then did a double take and looked at Washington. "What's wrong with him anyway?"

"If I knew, I'd help him more than dragging him around the desert," Wash said. "As far as I can tell it has something to do with the alien that smelled like elephant semen."

"What?" Carolina and Tex asked at the same time.

"I mean… It smelled bad," Wash said, shaking his head and holding up his hands. "I didn't think it smelled like elephant semen. I mean, I don't know what elephant semen smells like. Tucker does. Apparently. It was his comparison, not mine."

"What the fuck, did this team go completely to shit when I left?" Tex asked almost hysterically.

"Yeah, about you leaving," Wash said, turning a critical eye toward Tex. "You going to explain yourself or apologize or anything for that? We really needed you. Church really–"

"That's what I'm trying to keep us on point with!" Tex shouted. "Where the fuck is Church!?"

"I don't know!" Wash yelled back. "Right now, I'm just trying to get Tucker to the base so he stops complaining. That is my ultimate goal for the moment."

"I'm not complaining, I'm dying," Tucker moaned.

"Shut up, Tucker," both Tex and Wash said at once.

The ground shook once more and everyone turned to look toward Sheila as she approached them. "I believe I can be of some service. Privates Church and Caboose did come here only to leave after I mentioned my conversation with Church during my upgrade. Only Church did not seem to remember what Church told me. He concluded there was another Church and took off with Private Caboose toward where I told him the transmissions of Church and my backup saved files were stored."

Tex felt her heart – code or not – sink.

"The Director? You told him about the Director?" Tex asked, voice tight and full of anger. "Where is he!? How are we supposed to deal with this–"

"I think I can help," Epsilon said, finally emitting a sprite over Carolina's shoulder, somewhat putting her between himself and Washington. "I… I remember."

Carolina looked meaningfully to Tex. "We need to go."

"I… You're right," Tex agreed. She then turned and looked at Wash. "Can you handle things here?"

"I don't even know what I'll be handling," Wash replied truthfully.

"That's okay, new Blue Teammates! I can give you the rundown!"

Everyone who was not Tucker rolled up in a ball on the ground turned on their heels and raised weapons to face at the new voice in the conversation. The source of said voice cried out and raised his hands, shaking head to boot, nearly knocking off the cheap chips of blue paint on the maroon armor.

"Who the fuck is this?" Carolina demanded.

"I don't… Simmons?" Tex asked, dropping her gun.

"Yes! I mean… No. Not that Red Team guy. Fuck him," Simmons answered, hands still high in the air.

"What are you doing here? What'd you do to your armor?" Wash demanded.

"Red Team's all obsessed with the new people. Not like they took me – I mean him – seriously even when he was on that team. So. Y'know. Blue Team, whoo," Simmons responded.

Tex couldn't even begin to bring herself to care about the situation any further. She looked at Wash. "If I go get Church and Caboose, kill a fucker, and get back here, will this all be cleared up?"

"Not even remotely," Wash answered.

"Okay, I'll be right back. Sheila's in charge," Tex announced, walking back toward the ship.

"New Red Team guys?" Carolina asked before looking to Tex. "I thought you said we were only worried about Blue."

"We're not even worried about Blue, there's too many Blue Team Problems to deserve worrying about," Tex responded. "C'mon, let's not waste anymore time. Looks like you and I both are going to get what we want at the same place."