Hey guys! Back with another chapter. Before we start, I got some things I wanna say.
First of all, this story is now available on Archive of Our Own! You can check it out by looking me up by the same exact name over there. Just head over to Works and you'll see it. I will tell you that I'll probably be more active and/or consistent here, though, but I'm doing this because I feel Bloons TD fanfiction is more active and read over there, so we'll see what happens.
This time I'll try something new right off the bat: P.O.V. shifting. The first two chapters were completely Trevor's P.O.V. with a few flashbacks, and as I thought about it more, it felt limiting for the upcoming scenes I was thinking of. So, whenever I feel it's necessary, I'll switch from Trevor to a 3rd person narrator. I also did some more research on the Bloons franchise and found many, MANY theories on Bloons lore, which gave me a ton of ideas and new knowledge, including how bloons harm monkeys, which will prove useful in the long run. Ninja Kiwi's blogs provided good info as well, specifically about the heroes, though I might discard sooome of those ideas and replace them with my own for the sake of coherence and headcanon.
One more thing: Remember that flashback where Trevor watched Mason die in front of him? Well, try reading it while listening to a song called Quest for Perfection by Jamie Salisbury (look it up on YouTube). It makes such a big difference, and personally, it made it more emotional. I have a couple more songs that I think would fit well with certain scenes, so what I'll probably do is add a chapter after the ending with a soundtrack. Music is extremely important to me when watching or reading media, mainly because this year I came across some of the best music I ever listened to in so long.
With all of that out of the way, here's chapter 3, before General Brickell takes Trevor to meet his team.
3rd P.O.V.
Squad 2A was led by Striker Jones, a hero known for his destructive power. There were 3 more members: Frank Davis, Wendy Wilson, and Summer Lee, who were a dartling gunner, monkey ace, and helicopter pilot, respectively. They all usually wore green camo armor, which was resistant to explosives and heat, with a light green helmet. For Frank, it was to resist the intensity of the rockets or heat rays he fired, while for the girls it was for protection against potential crashes.
They all had a personal room called 2A. The room had a set of computers and some lockers for equipment storage. In the center, there were two couches facing each other with a coffee table between them. The room was connected directly to a small firing range like Mason's, with many weapons and ammo on one corner of the range. Inside the main room, Striker Jones was currently talking to the team. All three monkeys stood firm while listening to him.
"Everyone listen," he started. "I received a call from General Brickell herself. There's a new recruit, mentored by Captain Churchill, and he is coming to squad 2A. I want you all to be ready!"
"Yes, sir!" they all said in unison.
Striker went back to what he was doing, and the three monkeys talked to each other.
"Auuugh, finally a he," Frank said as he laid back on the couch. "No offense to you girls, but with me being the only guy it feels like a 2v1 sometimes."
"Don't get your hopes up, Frank," said Wendy. "Haven't you heard? This guy was mentored by Captain Churchill. Have you seen what Captain Churchill does in his free time? The new guy must be a complete weirdo. If that isn't cringey, I don't know what is."
"What the hell, Wendy? Don't say that!" Summer told Wendy. "Surely he's gonna be a nice guy."
"And besides, what's wrong about Super Sentai, or even anime in general?" Frank commented. "It's just a different form of entertainment, that's all. Sentai shaped a lot of people's childhoods, too!"
"Hmph, whatever you say," said Wendy as she crossed her arms.
…
Trevor's P.O.V.
"I did it. I did it. I did it," I repeated to myself fuck knows how many times, as I walked around fast. Both General Brickell and Captain Churchill seemed happy to see me like this. "I did it, Mason! I did it."
"Now that we're done, we have somewhere else to go. Go on to your duties, Churchill," General Brickell said. Captain Churchill performed a hand salute and went out of the room. We two followed a different path until we reached a door close to many others.
"Where are we going now?" I asked General Brickell.
"Now that you're one of us, it's time that you meet your team. Squad 2A."
She opened the door, and I saw three monkeys that looked like they were chatting. I instantly noticed one boy and two girls. They turned over to look at us, noticed General Brickell, and stood up firmly. Another monkey sporting a moustache, seemingly way older than them, walked over and stood firm as well. I assume this is the leader of the squad.
I briefly looked over to General Brickell, then back at the trio. Though I didn't appear too emotional, my thoughts were taking over. I have so much trouble trusting people because of my horrible childhood. Only Captain Churchill and General Brickell were trustworthy in my eyes since they were authority figures that knew about my condition and were empathetic, though General Brickell was sure as hell stricter.
She started, "This is Trevor Castle. Striker Jones probably told you already about a new recruit. This is him. He is an autistic savant, but this doesn't make him any less than you guys. We already tested him, and he performed remarkably well. I trust that you will welcome him properly. You should probably say a few words, Trevor."
The whole time she was speaking I was fidgeting with my hands so vigorously that anyone could notice. I didn't say much, but I managed to speak out after a pause.
"It's…a pleasure to meet you all. …I look forward to fighting alongside you guys in the future."
I said that to be polite, but I didn't really know these people, so that was just my hopes speaking for me.
"I got some errands to run. I want all of you to introduce yourself properly!" General Brickell said. All four monkeys replied with a brief but strong "Yes ma'am!" She turned around and left, but the leader also left and closed the door. The other three monkeys switched to casual mode now that she was gone.
"I told you so," whispered one of the girls to the boy. "So what?" he told her. "He's autistic. I'm not letting that stop me or him." He walked over to me.
"So, you're the new guy. Trevor, huh?" he said. "I'll start. The name's Frank. Dartling gunner Frank Davis. It's a pleasure to meet you, too."
"I'm Summer Lee, a helicopter pilot. Happy to make your acquaintance," said one of the girls. The other one said "Wendy Wilson, monkey ace."
"It's always good to have another member," Frank said as he extended his hand to me. I hesitated a bit, but then shook his hand. He then shook mine with both hands, which made me uncomfortable. "I'm sure we'll be good friends. What do you think?"
"I…I think you touch people too much," I said as I quickly pulled my hand away. He didn't look bothered, though.
"Sorry, that's my b," he told me as he chuckled. "What do you do Trevor?" He tilted his head and body to try and look at my back. "Is that a sniper rifle?" he asked. I just met these people and still felt anxious, but the way Frank talked gave me a small, strange feeling of trust.
"A battle rifle. …I'm…a sniper monkey," I replied as I took it out and held it in front of me. "It's a Dragunov SVU-A, a variant of the Dragunov SVU designated marksman rifle with a selective fire switch. A rifle from Russian origin, it normally fires a cartridge of 7.62x54mmR, but I extensively modified it myself to improve my effectiveness in defense…Usually, I replace the cartridge with the more powerful .50 BMG and add a bigger magazine of preferably 40 to 50 rounds. Incendiary and/or explosive rounds are also preferred…I changed the structure of the magazine holder to achieve the extra capacity, extended the barrel, added a muzzle brake to minimize recoil, and attached a green tactical laser to help me while aiming."
"For the love of Sun God! Looks like you know your guns!" Frank said. He got closer to the rifle and lifted his hand, presumably to grab it. I nervously took a step back. Before he could apologize, I said, "Sorry…you probably just want to take a closer look…but this rifle is…precious to me."
He smiled. "It's okay. Everyone's got their quirks, I guess. I'm not too different myself; you have no idea how much I LOVE spraying darts all over the place," he said. "Come sit down." I nodded, placed the rifle on my back, and sat down next to them. Wendy was just looking at me funny, and quietly got further away from me.
"Tell us more about yourself," said Frank. "How old are you, for example?"
"I'm 17 years old. However, as you may have noticed, my height and size are…below average," I told him.
"Perfect for a sniper monkey! Not only it makes it easier for you to hide and shoot, but it makes you harder to hit. We heard you're an autistic savant. Does that mean you have above average intelligence?"
"Hypercalculia is one ability I have. I can make long and complex calculations in my head…quickly…and without writing anything down."
"Prove it," Wendy intervened. She had her phone in hand and read something aloud. "If someone shoots a bullet with an initial velocity of 960 meters per second and a 34-degree angle, what is the horizontal and vertical distance the bullet will travel in 10 seconds?"
It didn't take me long at all to respond. "Earth's gravity gives objects an acceleration of -9.8 meters per second. The constant horizontal velocity is 795.88 meters per second, and the initial vertical velocity is 536.83 meters per second…Based on this information, and assuming there's no other drag, the vertical distance the bullet would travel in 10 seconds is 4,878.25 meters. Horizontally, it would travel 7,958.80 meters…A bullet with enough muzzle velocity to achieve this is .223 Remington, which can be used with the Heckler & Koch SL-8, Remington Model 700, and Colt AR-15 guns."
Wendy seemed thrown off by my long and detailed answer. She checked her phone again, tapped a few times, looked up, and said, "That's…correct…"
"Holy shit! That's soooooo sick!" Summer said. Frank also looked surprised. "I know right? That was amazing! Not only did you calculate that so fast correctly, but you also told us which bullet and gun it was. You know your stuff. Just you wait until Striker Jones gets to know you better."
"Who's Striker Jones?" I asked.
"It was that older monkey on our team that left some minutes ago," said Summer. "He's our leader. He's a hero monkey specializing in explosives. Isn't that cool!?"
"I…guess. …It's nice to have a hero as a leader."
…
3rd P.O.V.
Meanwhile, Captain Churchill and Striker Jones were talking in another room.
"I'm sure I can believe you about Trevor's abilities, Churchill, but his communication is what has me skeptical," Striker said.
"Look, just because he's autistic doesn't mean his communication skills are a complete lost cause. Think about it this way: he just needs more experience and practice with it than usual, that's all," Churchill told him.
"That's the thing! This isn't a place for talking to people all the time. This is a war zone! Besides, is he even aware that this is a military force? We're not soft here. He's like a little kid. I don't think he will last long."
"It's not always like that, and you know it. And yes, he is aware of what he will face, but I'm sure that with enough time and patience he can make himself comfortable here. Striker, we've been friends for a long time. I've never doubted you once and neither did you doubt me. Can you PLEASE trust me on this?"
Striker thought for a moment. He really didn't want a burden. However, he reluctantly sighed and said, "Fine, but I'm not his daddy. He will learn sooner or later that this isn't a kindergarten playground, whether he likes it or not!"
"That's the spirit," Churchill happily said. "Oh, and one more thing: you might be underestimating his reaction to the ambience. Remember that he saw Mason's gory death in front of him at such a young age. Have you ever thought about that?" he said as he was about to leave.
"He was 12, Churchill. Monkeys nowadays can handle a lot of things at a young age."
"But he's autistic. They would be more likely to be 'traumatized.'"
Churchill left the room, leaving Striker to ponder more about the decision. According to Churchill, all that's needed is time, patience, and faith. Hearing those words from his close friend seemed to reassure him even more. Still, he did not have the same faith as him.
Suddenly, Striker received a call from his squad comm.
"Need more backup here! This is the 32nd wave. Please come over to battle map Park Path."
"Loud and clear. Squad 2A on its way. Striker out."
…
Trevor's P.O.V.
"Sooo, Trevor, how do you know all this stuff?" Summer asked. "I get that Captain Churchill mentored you, but is that really it?"
"Well…anything that he didn't teach me that I know is self-taught. I didn't really have any…formal secondary or tertiary education," I replied. This was something I requested from Captain Churchill. With all the bullying I suffered, I could only really trust him (not even teachers). "I just focused on topics and subjects that I found interesting and studied on my own."
All of a sudden, Striker Jones came back. He had a big bazooka on his shoulder loaded up with a rocket and everything.
"We're up guys. Arm yourselves up," he said.
Frank, Summer, and Wendy all said, "Yes sir!" and went to the lockers to grab their weapons and equipment. After they left, Striker Jones just stayed there and looked at me. When I tried to get out of the room, he extended his hand as if I needed to give him something.
"Trevor, your rifle," he told me. "Give it to me."
He was our leader, so I needed to treat him with respect, but still, this is the closest thing I have to Mason. And now he's trying to take it?
"B-But…sir…this rifle is precious to me. Whenever I shoot…I'm closer to Mason," I nervously said.
"All you're doing is watch us and the rest of the monkeys. You're not sniping. You don't belong here. Give me your rifle. Now."
His voice was strong, and I was taken aback. Is it because I'm autistic? How are they going to gain my trust if they won't even let me try? I stood in silence, with nervous tics taking over my hands.
"NOW!" he briefly shouted, startling me. I quickly took out the rifle and gave it to him. He then left, and I slowly followed him after a minute, my hands fidgeting vigorously. Way to make me lose hope. All I wanted was to become a sniper monkey, keep my promise towards Mason, and become a hero. Was that too much to ask? In my book, not if I really put my heart and soul into it! It was worse than I thought. The only way for me to prove myself capable to these guys is to fight for real, but if they won't let me, what am I supposed to do?
Striker Jones said something that really stuck to me. "You don't belong here." That was the same thing one of the bullies said when I was little. This only gave me a worse feeling.
When we got to Park Path, there were a decent number of monkeys attacking bloons, but not nearly as much as the time I saw Mason die. No MOAB-class bloons were coming, so I deduced that we were at the very most in waves 30-39. I saw Wendy and Summer taking off in their plane and helicopter, flying to the scene to open fire. Frank ran up to me holding his dartling gun. He looked at me and instantly knew I was disappointed.
"Man, I'm sorry you can't shoot with us. But…things will get better. You will get a chance to fight with us. I don't know about the others, but I'll make sure of it. I promise," Frank said before running to the field to then start a sideways rainstorm of darts. I just looked down while he told me this. I climbed a tree and watched the monkeys do their thing, but it really pained me to be empty-handed and not have Mason by my side anymore, at least physically. All the while I passed the time analyzing how everything went, calculating some "what-if's" and wondering what I would do if I was armed.
I really hope what Frank's saying is true. All I need is for them to give me a chance.
Will Trevor ever get his chance? Only time will tell.
Half of this chapter was written last week, and it left me a little tired. The other half was written this week and I had much more time to write. However, I can't say I enjoyed writing this chapter as much as the last two, but this is just a bridge for other events. I have some more ideas that I really hope you and I have fun with. Hopefully I get as much time as I did, so until next time, have yourselves a good one!