Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue or any of the show's characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.
Chapter Eleven: Sanctuary
It was a perplexing thought, the idea that Michael J. Caboose knew any type of place where their mismatched group could celebrate their first real team outing. Truth be told, even the more antisocial and cautious in their midst were so caught off-guard that they couldn't help but decide to tag along.
Fuck it, Leonard Church was voluntarily spending his precious free time with Caboose and these other assholes he had assembled together just to do his bidding, which was truly saying something. He had even chosen to not use his power and simply tag along through someone's phone or tablet so that he could head back to his sanctuary, which also said something. Church wasn't nearly as keen on physically leaving any of his few designated safe zones anymore, even if he tried not revealing that to others. He didn't want anyone knowing just how unsafe past experiences had made him feel.
For some inexplicable reason, the tag-alongs to the Reds and Blues' first official team outing were also evidently opting to stick around, a group which included his sister.
Church's upset, still very much annoyed at his actions, sister.
Never mind that he was just as pissed at the redheaded female for her constant disappearing acts these days. They both refused to let their social ineptitude keep them from this, in what Tucker would no doubt refer to as the most fucking stupid and downright pointless game of Chicken ever.
Carolina wanted to hang out and suffer horribly awkward moments with a bunch of weirdos? Fine! Church would show her just how much more adept at suffering through awkward shit he could be!
That was probably a fucked up reason for hanging around teammates, but Church was man enough to admit he was a fucked up guy in that department. Only because he was so awesome and could admit it, like an awesome person would.
Besides, Church knew that Carolina was well-versed in his self-preservation tactics. If he retreated now like she expected him to do, the redhead would have shown up at his hideout so that they could privately continue their "discussion" about his forming a team of sorts behind her back.
That would just lead to a shit-ton of yelling and broken things. Plus, Sheila had only just started talking to him again after the training chamber had been repaired the last time that he and Carolina argued over this sort of shit. His sister was similar to Tex in a way one would be wise to never point out: Carolina often used fists and power to express her emotions, and her emotions usually held a lot of anger and hurt at their core. After their private talk, they would both stalk off in a huff and freeze the other out until they either happened to run into one another or needed the other for something they couldn't avoid.
Their familial situation had always been fucked up, and neither of them really wanted things to delve into that predictable pattern because they honestly did fucking care, so they were both trying to avoid that from happening right now.
Forcing themselves to go to an outing in public was a good diversionary tactic. Even if they did try talking at this point, there would be witnesses. Plus, more of a mindset against collateral damage.
Mulling over such things in his head, along with pondering over the surprising encounter with the Triplets and what the files they had been stealing contained, kept Church rather preoccupied. So much so that he barely even registered that Caboose had taken them back into Blood Gulch until they were standing in front of a two-story building. It seemed rather well-maintained despite the dinginess of its surrounding neighbors. The first floor was clearly a "hole-in-the-wall" type of establishment, a sign overhead declaring it the "LZ" in immensely huge font with an aircraft on one side of the text, a martini glass on the other.
LZ was probably short for "Landing Zone" in this case, given the sign's imagery. Church squinted up at the sign as it dawned on him from the suddenly eager and expected glimmer in Caboose's blue eyes that this was the place the younger man had been referring to earlier, "You've got to be fucking kidding me! Some kind of airplane-themed bar, Caboose?" Church asked the blue-wearing man.
Caboose's excited demeanor did not change in the slightest, "They have food too." He explained, lowering his voice slightly as if telling all of them an important secret, "And the building doesn't really fly."
"No kidding." Tucker remarked as he rolled his eyes from where he was standing next to Church, trying to peer through the purposefully tinted windows to look inside the establishment, "What's with the name?"
"It was my sister's idea!" The younger blond was happy to supply, "To help remind her of her other job."
That actually got Church's attention as he thoughtfully looked over towards Caboose. He hadn't been able to dig up nearly as much information on Caboose or some of his other recruits as he would have liked, and not without having put in a whole lot of effort in trying either. A few of them, like Simmons or the Grif siblings, had simply been actively trying to keep themselves out of the information spotlight in light of their pasts while others, such as Donut, simply didn't have anything of note to their files beyond their powers.
The black-haired man had always just assumed that Caboose belonged to that last grouping in light of how harmless he was overall. He was pretty sure that he was mostly correct in that assessment though he had found it rather interesting that one of Caboose's numerous sisters' files had been purposefully redacted in particular. The information had been tampered with through some extremely capable data scrubbing and hacking too, though he hadn't given it much thought on account of it being Caboose's sister. Church figured the odds of anyone related to him being up to something horrifically shady were pretty slim.
But this current conversation…
"Is she a pilot or something?" Church asked curiously, though he knew the name of the bar made that pretty evident.
"Yep!" Caboose beamed proudly, "She is very good too, even if she never lets me try."
Huh, so she was at least aware of what Caboose was capable of whenever he was put behind the wheel of transportation. A bar seemed like an odd choice for a second business though…
Then again, he was probably just letting his suspicions get the better of him. Not everyone had questionable, shady relatives in their lives. Caboose obviously held his mysterious sibling in high esteem and while his judgement at times could be circumspect, he did like Church so obviously Caboose could tell when people were amazing.
"Well, what in tarnation are we all just standing around out here for?" Sarge demanded as he forced his way into the conversation rather abruptly along with a few quiet murmurs of agreement springing up from the rest of their group in wake of his question.
"W—wait a minute, Sarge!" Simmons nervously tried pointing out, "Won't we, uh, stand out?"
The cyborg had drawn up his maroon hoodie in a pointless attempt to cover up his metal and circuitry, pulling absentmindedly on the clothing's drawstrings as if to relieve himself of all of his pent-up, nervous energy.
"Meh, most people will just think you have kickass scarring and grafts after some accident, dude." Tucker waved him off, "Bet it could even get you laid in a place like this."
The flesh portion of Simmons' face turned incredibly red, "Th—that's not what I meant!"
The redhead's eyes flickered over to Sheila and Lopez before he bit his lip and looked away uncomfortably with a rather apologetic air about him. Understanding dawned on Sheila's holographic face after she and Lopez shared a look.
"We would be a bit harder to explain, Tucker." Sheila elaborated politely.
"Yeah, a hot magic ghost lady and a hot armored robot aren't things you see every day." Kaikaina chimed in, "Which sucks, because I bet that would make one killer porno!"
"Oh yeah!" Tucker grinned and held out his hand for her to high-five, "I would totally watch the hell out of that!"
"¿Esperar lo?" {"Wait…what?"}
Sheila tilted her head in consideration, "We could return to headquarters to avoid detection."
"Aw, no!" Donut pouted, "It just wouldn't be the same without you guys!"
"Apenas nos conocemos, y no necesariamente quiero estar rodeado de un montón de gente borracha." {"We barely even know each other, and I don't necessarily want to be around a bunch of drunk humans besides."}
"Now what a minute, guys," Frank "Doc" DuFresne interjected over whatever it was that Lopez had said, "Can't we just pretend that Sheila is a designated driver or something? Or a really high-tech personal assistant? And Lopez here can be one of those new helper robots who look after the elderly."
"What elderly?" Sarge demanded to know.
"¡Decir ah! Si se suponía que estaba cuidando a ese viejo loco, lo dejaría en el bosque." {"Ha! If was supposed to be looking after that crazy old man, I would leave him in the woods."}
Doc, however, was now fixing his stare onto the shotgun in plain view on Sarge's back, "Though most buildings do have a firearms code, Sarge."
"I have a permit, and the dang thing isn't even loaded!" The older man in red huffed out testily.
"Because you create your own shells whenever you need them, correct?" Doctor Emily Grey spoke up with a glimmer of excited curiosity in her eyes, "That is quite convenient!"
From where she was standing off to the side and observing how things were playing out, Carolina shot her brother an incredulous look, "How do you ever manage to get anything done?" She asked him seriously.
Church rolled his eyes, "We're working out a system!" He replied tersely.
Caboose, meanwhile, raised his hand up, causing the debate to still, "None of that will be a problem." He assured everyone rather confidently.
Washington, also hovering on the periphery of the group because former Freelancers just loved being exclusionary and borderline creepy around others, raised a puzzled eyebrow at his statement, "It won't?" He asked curiously.
Caboose nodded his head, "This place was built for people like us." He tried explaining, "So we can all be friends!"
Everyone glanced at one another, with the private investigator tag-along Kimball clearing her throat, "You mean this place is a…?" She trailed off, not wanting to voice the term out loud in case it was overheard.
Caboose had already spun around and was stepping inside, everyone else having no choice but to quickly rush to follow or be left behind. As most of them stepped into the tavern known as the LZ, the lights overhead turned blue momentarily. However, they became red when Simmons, Sheila, and Lopez entered.
The brightness of Simmons' artificial eye increased momentarily as he looked up at the now back-to-normal lighting, "Sensors?" he asked.
"Ones that can differentiate between Specials and augmented objects." Church frowned upwards himself, purposefully ignoring the offended looks the three beings' in question momentarily threw his way at that description (they'd get over it), "That's pretty high-tech."
Usually, you only saw that type of shit at high-end government or military facilities, or lucrative enterprises that could dish out a whole lot of money on security. They were still fairly experimental too, so whoever Caboose's sister was to have such a fine-tuned system, she had connections.
Church could feel the two former Freelancers as well as Kimball and even Sarge tensing up as that realization seemed to settle over them as well, though Caboose was simply grinning from ear-to-ear at their flabbergasted reactions, "Tex said you would want it to be a surprise! I am so happy she was right!" He exclaimed happily.
Church blinked, shock replacing his earlier unease, "Hold up, Caboose. Tex helped hook this up?"
"Of course she did." Carolina muttered flatly under her breath.
Shit, was this one of the safehouses that Tex had used her personal list of contacts from around the city of Chorus to help create? The ones that she never fucking bothered telling him about?
"Caboose, sir!" A deep, pleasant voice sounded from behind the bar counter on the opposite end of the building, "Welcome back!"
A dark-haired man with blue eyes had been wiping down the counter beforehand as the few customers the establishment had around this time seemed content to keep to themselves. He wiped his hands on his tan pants before striding over and inexplicably saluting Caboose, "Your room is just as you left it."
"Thank you, Smith. It is good to be back." Caboose told him as more confusion rippled through the group.
"Room?" Church inquired.
"The second floor has living quarters for both owners, as well as employees and potential guests." The man Caboose called Smith explained.
"Wait up." Tucker held up a hand in staunch disbelief, "Caboose, you own this place?"
"With my sister." The blond stated with a vigorous nod, "But Smith looks after things for us."
"I'm just happy to be of assistance!" The bartender smiled brightly, "You've helped me far too much, it is the least I could do."
Another collective look was shared amongst the Reds and Blues, though Church was starting to put the pieces together. If he was right about this being a safehouse of sorts, then Caboose's sister was helping Tex with looking out for Specials who might be otherwise exploited by asshole groups like Charon. Specials could come here for a respite from the hazards sometimes even just existing in the outside world brought about. Some, such as Smith here, simply decided to help either out of a sense of gratitude or perhaps because they didn't really have anywhere else to go.
No wonder Tex hadn't been too surprised, just borderline amused when she had "met" Caboose for the supposed first time. She had probably had herself a big old chuckle at how damn small the world could be and opted to just not let him in on the joke, the bitch!
Though another, more pressing concern hit Church, "Caboose," he said slowly, counting to ten in the back of his head, "You mean to tell me I've been letting you live rent-free in my house all this time and you actually had your own fucking place?"
"Yeah," Caboose did not seem to catch on to his friend's exasperation, "You and Sheila are good people."
Doc and Tucker had to hold the goateed man back from throttling the younger blond while Sheila smiled kindly, "That is very kind of you to say, Caboose."
"Any friends of Caboose are more than welcome here." The dark-haired male smiled even more brightly as a blond-haired girl in a pink waitress outfit ensemble complete with a tan apron walked over, "My name is John Elizabeth Andersmith. Feel free to place any orders with me or Volleyball here when you're ready."
"Sweet name!" Kai was quick to try and strike up a conversation with the waitress who appeared to be around her own age before she wandered off again, "Very kinky. I like it!" She winked at the other girl.
Grif groaned from behind his sister and slapped a hand over his eyes, "Goddamn it, Kai!"
"Thanks?" The other girl, named Volleyball, laughed, "I'd like to say it's because my parents were secretly sadists, but that would be giving them too much credit."
Kai had plopped herself down into a nearby chair, looking up with half-lidded brown eyes and chin resting in her hands, "Betcha this is a weird place to work at."
Volleyball shrugged, "It has its moments." Her eyes flicked down to a bruise on the inside of her elbow that vaguely reminded Church of faded finger grips, though she frowned for only a second before her customer service smile came back, "But I don't have to pay the rent this way and Andersmith is pretty nice."
So she was another tenant of the safehouse then. Church wondered briefly if, given her comments and mannerisms, Volleyball had been one of those unfortunate cases of a Special discovering their powers in their teens and then subsequently getting kicked out of the only home and life they had ever known by fearful and ignorant parents. Unfortunately, it fit the profile of far too many incidents.
Once again, Church couldn't help but wonder why Tex didn't share too much about this part of her activities with him, choosing to keep him at arm's length instead. It was good work, and he could fucking help!
Both his girlfriend and sister needed to stop treating him like glass.
Kai and Volleyball had stopped conversing, both glancing over at the few in the group who hadn't yet started wandering away to do their own things, the waitress looking awkward while Kai just looked peeved, "Move it, assholes!" The tan-skinned young lady in yellow hissed under her breath rather vehemently, "Don't cockblock me!"
Grif sighed in exasperation, mumbling something about "embarrassing the family" under his breath as he went away with slumped shoulders. Tucker just seemed to be upset that Kai had beat him to the flirting first, though he wasn't about to risk her wrath by sticking around.
Shaking his head, Church turned to vacate the area as well, noticing that Donut and Doc were now hovering around Caboose, the pink-wearing dirty blond pretty much begging to see Caboose's apartment because he adored room design and styling while Doc tried valiantly to rein him in. Also, Donut apparently wanted to see his room at Church's so that he could match décor at both places. Church was definitely not going near there anytime soon, even if he knew Caboose would be ecstatic to show off more of this place to his "best friend."
"Your sister isn't around by any chance, is she?" Doc asked pleasantly as Church snuck past them, "We should probably introduce ourselves after bursting in here."
"That's right!" Donut was quick to chime in with a deep intake of breath, "Talk about being impolite! I always find it really rude when guys shove their way into my hole without even asking first!"
Yeah, Church hadn't vacated the area quickly enough. How much booze affected short-term memory, again?
"Oh, it's okay! She is at her other job now because she is always so busy." Caboose explained, oblivious to how Donut's remark sounded, "But she always says that when I make friends I should bring them over."
"That's so sweet!" Donut gushed as he turned around to the brown-haired, bespectacled man next to him, "Have any siblings yourself, Doc?"
There was nervous laughter at the focus turning on him then, "W—well…" Doc trailed off, clearly uncomfortable with the question.
Church was just starting to tune everything out into a far more pleasant din of white background noise when a chair at the table he was walking by was kicked out directly into his oncoming path. "Fuck!" he breathed out sharply upon it making fateful impact with his body. He winced and reached down to grab at his definitely-going-to-be-bruised shins, "What the—"
The outside world sucked ass, especially when he wasn't laughing at all the losers in their corporeal, fleshy bodies while he zipped along in his digitized form. Then again, home life sucked ass too a lot of the time.
Maybe things just fucking sucked in general.
"Hey," an amused, familiar voice spoke up from the table as he finished his not-at-all overreacting groaning, "Have a seat."
He glared at the dark-eyed blonde who so obviously thought that had been far too clever a joke in light of his predicament not to voice out loud, judging by the unconcealed mirth swimming in Tex's eyes. She was grinning, already moving her black booted leg up to join its companion on the chair next to the one she was currently sitting in.
"You fucking planned that, didn't you?" Church shot over at her accusingly, nevertheless sitting down in the proffered chair with an agitated huff.
"Only when I noticed you weren't paying attention, dumbass." Tex informed him cheerily.
"What are you even doing here?" He decided to change tactics before he said something that could possibly get him dumped yet again or, more likely, get his ass kicked, "And why didn't you tell me you helped Caboose's sister make a safehouse?"
She blinked at the obvious frustration in his voice, "I would have if I felt it was important." Tex finally stated at length before she shrugged, "But you knew I set up spots like this already, so…"
She trailed off and he glared at her questioningly, "This isn't going to drag Caboose or his family into anything dangerous, is it?" Church asked.
Tex stared at him with obvious amusement, "It's sweet that you care, Church."
He grit his teeth at that, "Tex."
"You know me and what this support network is meant to do. I'm trying to keep people safe, you nerd." She informed him rather succinctly before sweeping her eyes around the room, "Honestly, your team might be putting a bigger target on your friends' backs than something like this ever could."
Church winced because Tex definitely had him there. She told him that quite plainly before when he had first asked her for her opinion on the idea, though she had agreed it definitely had merits too. Now with Washington and Carolina also on his back…
He groaned and put his head in his hands over the table, "So what the fuck am I supposed to do?" Church stated in frustration, "Should I really just sit back, do nothing, and let you and Carolina run off to do your superhero ass-kicking?"
Doing nothing but what he had been told had helped put lots of people in the ground. He wanted to act on his own and do fucking better now. Keep everyone safe.
There was a suffocating silence following his outburst, broken only by Tex letting out a heavy sigh, "You know, I honestly don't think you should be too worried about that." She finally got out as she once again glanced over the assorted oddballs gathered around them, "These guys are surprisingly decent all things considered, especially together."
It was probably the closest thing he would get to reassurance from her, and Church gaped across the table's expanse, "You were watching?"
Tex nodded, "Of course. I wanted to see if you'd need bailing out or if you could actually hack it."
He rolled his eyes again, "I thought you told me the team could be helpful!" Church grumbled out.
"Doesn't mean I can't still be concerned, cockbite."
There was an awkward silence between them as it seeped in that she had revealed more than she had probably intended to with that comment. Tex averted her eyes from Church and his sudden blushing, and he coughed to cover it up before shooting her a grateful look once he got his reaction under control.
"You did better than I thought you might for your first go at it," Tex told him, "Even with the added shock of the Triplets and Carolina."
"Yeah." He grinned, shaking his head, "Fuck, if Sis had caught wind of you being around too—!"
The sound of a heavy glass being slammed down hard on top of a table's surface directly behind him cut Church off, and he shuddered at the sudden tenseness and unease he felt hanging in the air all around them. Simply seeing Tex's expression ice over into a more guarded one had him knowing exactly who he would find drilling holes through them both with the sheer force of their patented death glare even without turning around, the air around them picking up to cement his suspicions.
Tex tilted her head slightly, apparently not bothered by his sibling's glowering as much as he was as Church reluctantly turned around, "Carolina." The blonde said in greeting.
"Tex." Carolina practically spat the name out, not paying attention to the puddle of spilled alcohol surrounding the now completely empty and cracked glass in front of her as green eyes landed on Church and he instinctively flinched, "Church, we'll talk later." The redhead said through clenched teeth.
Well, fuck, so much for their mutual attempt at argument avoidance.
Without another word or glance their way, Carolina promptly and rigidly stood up to make her way to the door. She paused only long enough to say a curt goodbye to Sheila, Caboose, and Tucker, firmly putting extra money into Caboose's hand to give to Andersmith for the mess.
Church's brain unfroze in just enough time for him to bolt up as she disappeared. Shit, they shouldn't leave things like this again.
A hand resting on his shoulder halted him. The woman called Vanessa Kimball handed him a business card before he could even think to rip away from her grip in protest, "If I can be of any help later, don't hesitate to get in touch." She stated in response to his questioning gaze a moment later, her brown eyes flickering over to the now firmly shut again door, "I'd like to talk with her privately, if you don't mind."
He frowned but reluctantly nodded, knowing that Carolina wouldn't be in the mood to talk to him right now anyways. Which sucked, but why was everything so goddamned fucking complicated?
"Speaking of," Doctor Grey called out from a nearby table as Kimball left, "I'd love to sign up too." She smiled sweetly and her tone was light, but there was a glint in her eyes that had him flinching again, "These data thieves are going to think twice before stealing patient information from me again!"
Sarge laughed, an odd bit of redness to his cheeks as he cast what nearly could be mistaken for a warm glance the dark-skinned woman's way, "We could exchange addresses too, if you'd like, Doctor Grey. Since you were talking about wanting to see my workshop before." The older man said almost shyly.
"That sounds like a fantastic idea!" The doctor clapped her hands together in outright giddiness, "It's so rare for me to engage in interactions with others outside of work these days. Sometimes you just really need to keep sawing into something so that you're elbow-deep in innards or wiring until you just know what makes it tick to put your mind at ease."
The two were smiling at one another in an absolutely disconcerting way to anyone else who might be observing them, and Church shivered at the sudden thought about how that probably constituted flirting to the pair. Lopez was even less subtle in his body language.
"... Realmente desearía poder beber en este punto." {"...I really wish I could drink at this point."}
Whatever lament the robot had said, Sheila attempted to console him over it by trying to pat his shoulder despite having no tangible form herself. Lopez looked over at her gratefully as Church tore his gaze back to the once again closed door, his hand clenching around the business card in his grip so much that it crumpled.
He was well aware of Tex regarding him carefully, though neither of them opted to say a word about the incident for the rest of the evening.
When Vanessa Kimball stepped outside, she had honestly been expecting to only find a vacant street. After all, Carolina could fly and she had left the LZ in a hurry.
But a part of her had hoped that she could find a trace of the other woman still. After all, the redhead had approached her first and as much as events had developed in rather interesting ways since then, neither of them had really been able to discuss just why. Carolina obviously had quite a few issues in regards to letting others in. That she had even attempted to do so at all had Kimball thinking that there was a reason for it, one that she would be much better served actually understanding.
So, Kimball had stepped out into the night air in the vain hope of finding some sort of trail to follow, a clue as to where a person like Carolina might go to mull over her thoughts.
She was, admittedly, surprised to find Carolina herself standing only about a block away, arms crossed over her chest and eyebrows furrowed as she regarded the cracked sidewalk underneath her feet. It looked as though the redhead was inwardly debating what her next move should be, hesitating because she possibly wanted to go back inside but was trying to actively resist the impulse.
She looked up as Kimball approached, "Want to talk about it?" Kimball asked.
Carolina shot her a look as if to say the answer to that should be obvious. It was, actually.
"No." Carolina paused, frown deepening as she tried to elaborate, "I'll admit this whole thing is unsettling, especially if my brother and his friends are going to be involving themselves in it from here on out."
Concern and frustration laced her words, seeping into her uneasy body language. Carolina pretty much fought anything that came her way, and dealing with things where she couldn't just go out and directly do just that obviously made her wholly uncomfortable.
There was a weariness in Carolina's demeanor too, as if the weight of a million things were always pressing down on her shoulders and she was still trying her very hardest not to let it show even as it seeped out through the cracks and her own responses betrayed her.
Kimball could relate. She was also more than a bit in awe because Carolina had so adeptly been covering all of that up with her easy-to-surface anger before, as if she felt that was a more expected thing to allow others to see. It was a tactic to try and keep everyone at arm's length that only lessened in extreme moments where she was lost enough in thought to not be as mindful about her outward demeanor.
It was also hard to watch.
She quickly shook that thought from her mind, "Do you think that what you've been chasing and Charon are somehow connected?" Kimball inquired.
The other female pursed her lips, "He, it…is hunting Specials." Carolina stated, moving along before Kimball could really delve into that apparent pronoun slipup and what it meant, "Charon has been out gathering data on known Specials and have even begun targeting some of them."
"Hmm." Kimball tapped a finger to her chin in thought, "It could be a coincidence, but it could also be a much larger conspiracy."
Which would only add to the rising tensions in Chorus and the world over with all of the registry talk now taking place and the recent escalation of violent incidents involving Specials if it were true.
"Neither issue can be ignored." Carolina said, gripping her fists painfully tight at her sides.
Kimball let out a small sigh, "Agreed." She looked Carolina dead in the eyes when she turned to regard the private investigator questioningly, "I'd like to help in whatever way I can."
Carolina started at the dark-skinned woman as if waiting for some kind of term or condition to be made apparent along with her offer, but when none was forthcoming she closed her eyes briefly and looked away, "Thank you." She muttered.
"Your brother's team idea isn't exactly terrible given the circumstances." Kimball tried, emboldened by the sudden display of genuine sincerity Carolina had instilled into those two words, "Helping them out from time to time might provide you with leads too."
After all, they hadn't really had a team of Specials trying to actually improve things since, well, Freelancer had split apart. Having a team try to correct the mistakes of that organization that had helped in no small way to lead them all to this point, well, how could that be bad?
She maybe had pushed things a bit too far in this instance though, because Carolina fixed Kimball with a blank stare and said nothing in response. When the former Freelancer quickly turned and continued walking away, however, it was obvious that she was very much lost in thought.
As much fun as chumming it up and getting plastered after a job well done was, and shit did he feel like he could use a few good swigs after the near standoff they had all just fortunately dodged between Tex and Carolina, Lavernius Tucker was something of a responsible adult now thanks to trying his best to raise his son. No matter what assholes like Church might say on the subject.
He doubted very much that either Jensen or Junior would be all that thrilled to have him stumble in drunk, and he was fairly certain he was already paying his teenaged babysitter enough for college if she didn't have high enough grades for scholarships already. So increasing that even more to make up for a drunk occurrence would probably leave him well and truly broke.
Not to mention, how would he ever make that up to Junior?
Tucker forced himself to only nurse one beer, and when Caboose mentioned there being an outside deck behind the bar to a still present Washington, he waited a few minutes more than he really wanted to before heading after the former Freelancer himself. Gotta make nice with the neighbors, right? Even if they were stalkers and lurkers.
Andersmith gave him a small smile and nod as he passed by before turning his attention to the cyborg currently sitting at the counter, who was unexpectedly on his second drink of the night already. The redhead's eyes were plastered onto a news broadcast overhead, a newscast with that rather hot journalist lady talking about something involving explosions from the looks of things. Didn't seem to be about their fight with the Triplets and their backup, so Tucker didn't care much to stop and listen in even as Andersmith adjusted the volume given Simmons' apparent interest.
Sure enough, Tucker found Washington standing on the edge of the deck that overlooked a surprisingly nice view of a park, gray eyes scanning every single shadow or darkened crevice he could discern out there with his hands gripping onto the banister so tightly that he might just break the whole thing off any second.
Tucker raised an eyebrow at the sight and purposefully coughed to gain the freckled blond-haired male's attention since he suspected, judging by Washington's body language, walking up without any warning might be a good way to get his arm broken, "Shit, dude, don't you ever give it a rest?" He asked incredulously.
Washington turned around to regard Tucker with his customary frown firmly in place, "This has nothing to do with being alert for an attack."
"Could've fooled me." Tucker observed as he took another sip of his beer.
"With so many Specials here, and the security this place no doubt is hiding, an attack seems very unlikely unless something truly major occurs." Washington told him, a sudden unsure light in his gray eyes as he looked down at the flooring of the deck, "I just needed to think."
Tucker frowned at the man's tone, noting that the former Freelancer was acting a bit off from his customary angry and distrustful self. He seemed more hesitant.
"This has to do with Carolina showing up and those three water weirdos who were stealing all the files, right?" Tucker finally surmised.
A momentary look of shock flickered across Washington's face at the accurate deduction, "How did you…?" He trailed off, clearly not wanting to talk any more than necessary.
Tucker harrumphed under his breath and waved his free hand dismissively, "Bitch, please." He stated smugly, "I'm way more observant than people give me credit for. It's one of my many awesome talents."
"I see." Washington looked doubtful about that last part in particular, but he broke eye contact suddenly and nodded in response to Tucker's earlier question regardless, "Seeing Carolina again so soon after Church and Tex was hard enough, but the Triplets' involvement with Charon now has me worried."
"Because they're friends of yours." Tucker guessed.
Washington nodded, "No one knew why they just disappeared one day." He muttered more to himself, "But it seems like Freelancer did end up having a hand in it after all."
"Yeah, you guys really needed to read that fine print before you signed on with those assholes." Tucker stated, remembering far too well the states that Church, Tex, and Carolina had been in when he first met them. Granted, he really wondered if Church or Carolina in particular had much of a choice in their involvement with the project. Maybe the jerks in charge of it had actively sought out others who wouldn't be in much of a position to say no either when they were doing their recruitment drive, though he wasn't sure if it was a good idea to really try to ask any of them that. No doubt Washington and those Triplets had been through some nasty shit too, by all accounts.
Washington didn't reply, and he had a haunted, rather faraway look on his face that very much confirmed Tucker's suspicions on the subject.
Knowing enough not to pry further, Tucker sighed, "If you decide to stick around with us for a while, I have a feeling we'll be running into them sooner or later." He suggested.
He wasn't sure why he was offering that given that his new neighbor wasn't exactly the friendliest of sorts, but it felt like the right thing to do if nothing else. Had to keep setting those good examples for Junior even if it kind of kicked his ass in the end, right?
Washington nodded his head slowly, still looking rather lost in thought, "You might be right."
"Dude, I'm always right!" Tucker said as he grinned.
Washington leveled a blank stare his way, but instead of calling bullshit on Tucker's apparent bravado, he smiled slightly moments later, "I'm curious about what Charon is up to," he stated finally as if he had made up his mind, "And it might be a good idea to stick around for a while longer just to make sure none of you get killed."
Tucker's grin widened as he patronizingly saluted the former Freelancer with his still half-full beer bottle, "That's the fucking spirit!" He barked out.
Washington rolled his eyes though there was a slight quirking upwards at the sides motion of his mouth all the same as he stared contemplatively over at Tucker once more, "I take it that means you'll be sticking around for a while too?"
"Seems like it." Tucker stated, glancing out at the park in thought himself, "If only to help protect Junior and the city somehow." He smirked as Washington moved to join him, "Today actually wasn't so bad."
"No," Washington admitted softly, though his expression hardened a brief moment later, "But you all still have a ways to go yet."
Tucker rolled his eyes and sipped his beer again, "You are such a buzzkill." He said, laughing loudly to himself as the steel- and yellow-wearing man tried sputtering out a lame defense.
"…The explosion occurred on the outskirts of Chorus, with a number of casualties already being reported and more expected." Intrepid reporter Dylan Andrews stated as the camera shifted focus to take in the massive fireball and billowing smoke behind her that firefighters were still struggling to keep contained, "It should be noted that this is the fifth such attack in three months, with this particular military and research facility also having a working history with the now defunct Specials team known as Freelancer."
The camera once again shifted back to the brown-haired and brown-eyed Dylan, "Whether there is a correlation or these buildings are being targeted due to their involvement with the ongoing governmental efforts to further register Specials remains to be seen, as no demands or claims have yet been made."
Richard "Dick" Simmons gulped down the remaining half of his drink, making a face at how it burned all the way down his throat. A sinking feeling was filling the pit of his stomach, and he wondered if this was something that Church already knew about. There was something weirdly familiar about the whole thing, but he couldn't quite place what it was. He certainly had never been involved in any type of explosions, so what was it? He frowned and quickly drank the rest of his burning, horrible-tasting beverage.
"It's terrible that these attacks keep happening, especially with how tense things are now." Andersmith stated sympathetically as he glanced up at the television news report himself.
Simmons ignored the way his still organic eye was watering up, "T—tell me about it."
The black-haired man smiled gently, "But hopefully they'll be able to catch whoever is doing it soon."
Simmons nodded his head in quiet agreement, desperately wanting that to be the case too.
Trying to shake his mind away from the senseless, altogether terrible tragedy, he turned slightly in his seat. His vision landed on Kai and Volleyball, apparently now really hitting it off. The blonde would come back over to Kai's table whenever she finished taking an order or bringing one out, both young women positively beaming.
Feeling as though he were intruding, he quickly averted his gaze as his face reddened. Everyone else seemed currently at ease while he…
Well, places and situations like this always made him feel all the more anxious and nervous, even though he knew just how impressive the security here was thanks to his embedded scanning tech. He couldn't help it though! He had always been awkward and anxious around others, and that had only intensified ever since…
He swallowed, his throat painfully dry again as he shifted awkwardly in his seat once more.
"Um, may I have another?" Simmons asked Andersmith, even surprising himself with the request. He couldn't stand the taste of alcohol usually, and he made it a point to never drink too much, but maybe his nerves were getting the better of him. He felt like he really needed to keep drinking, if only to divert his mind for awhile and to sate this thirst that was just not going away.
"So you're going to nerd it up even in a place like this and just sit by yourself to watch the news?" A smug voice sounded from surprisingly close to his ear, "That is just fucking sad, kiss-ass."
Simmons nearly jumped off of his seat at Grif's unexpected proximity, the flesh and blood portions of his face turning a bright red in embarrassment. Thankfully, a humming Andersmith had gone to talk to Caboose when the large blond-haired man waved him over after leaving his new drink on the counter.
That embarrassed emotion quickly flared into agitation when Dexter Grif sat down next to him, an all-too pleased with himself smirk plastered on his tan face. The chubby asshole had done that on purpose!
"I don't…I don't really go to places like this." Simmons muttered lamely in his own weak defense, though even that was something of a stretch. In reality, this was his first time having stepped foot in a bar and he had never been able to work up the nerve to be a sad, lonely wallflower at those pity invites to parties he so rarely managed to get before he had been kidnapped. But like fuck was he going to reveal something that pathetic to Grif.
"Really?" The fake disbelief was practically dripping from Grif's tone, and Simmons hated the way his stomach did a little flip at the mischievous glint dancing in the mocking jerk's brown eyes since he was probably slightly tipsy, all things considered, "I wouldn't have been able to tell."
Simmons rolled his eyes at the taunt, "Oh, yeah? Well, what does it say about you that you're choosing to hang around with me then? Huh?"
The redhead couldn't help but smirk at his own challenge. By his own logic, hanging out with Simmons willingly meant that Grif was pretty pathetic too. Take that, fat-ass!
The cyborg was just starting to frown at the building realization that he had pretty much just confirmed his own inherent pathetic-ness with that taunt when Grif dismissively shrugged in response, "You're still the best company here right now." He informed Simmons, casting a quick glance over his shoulder at the assembled group, "Not that the bar for that is set ridiculously high or anything."
Simmons blinked, wide-eyed and in open shock over the statement. He felt what served as his heart these days pick up speed ever so slightly and he bit down on the urge to desperately, hopefully ask "Really?" that he suddenly very much felt due to his constant and inescapable need for validation.
He coughed awkwardly instead, turning his head as he gulped down some of his new drinking glass' contents so that hopefully his cybernetics covered the blush that was stubbornly refusing to fade from the freckled portion of his face. Then he had to cough for real because his throat once again felt like it was on fire.
Grif watched him with something akin to mild amusement again, "That good, huh?" He finally spoke up.
Simmons was quick to shake his head as he glared down at the offending liquid still in the glass in his hand, "I—it's fucking awful, really." He told Grif, frowning slightly in contemplation, "But I keep feeling like I need to drink something, so I forget what it tastes like and…"
He trailed off as realization started to form through the fuzziness in his brain, especially with how Grif's smirk continued growing knowingly the more that Simmons had talked. He set the glass down and glared at who he now knew was the cause of his inexplicable thirst, "You." The cyborg spoke out through gritted teeth.
Grif remained annoyingly nonplussed at the accusation, which only confirmed Simmons' suspicions about what had been going on and further frustrated him even before the black-haired man finally spoke up, "Hey, I just figured you needed help getting the edge off." Grif said apathetically.
"Y—you shouldn't use your power like that!" Simmons protested.
Another shrug, "Believe me, Simmons, that kind of subtle nudging is pretty harmless." The orange-wearing man looked momentarily nostalgic, "It was one of the first tricks I learned to do when I was trying to figure out what I was capable of."
There was a slight edge to the heavyset man's voice then, a noticeable darkening of his tan features as if he was recalling something keenly unpleasant. For a brief second, Simmons wondered about the extent of Grif's abilities and thought about what little he knew of the other man's past. What had he done, been forced to do, in order to ensure that he and Kai would be okay, to be so all right with the notion of manipulating others' emotions even in such a slight, casual way like that without there being a life-threatening reason to do so?
Simmons both desperately wanted to know and understand it, and yet he was terrified of what the answer to that line of thinking might be. He simply shuddered somewhat as Grif quickly schooled his expression into the more apathetic one that Simmons knew to be both true to his personality to a large extent but also served as a conflicting, contradictory mask to cover up his actual thoughts and feelings.
Simmons pushed those observations down for the moment to focus on the understandable indignation he still felt instead, "Th—that doesn't mean you can—!"
"Dude, chill." Grif cut him off with an exasperated wave of his hand, "I was just trying to do you a favor as thanks for helping Kai out earlier." He explained, "I figured you might enjoy tonight more if you were slightly buzzed."
Simmons stared at him incredulously, unsure of what to make of the fact that Grif honestly seemed to think he had been paying Simmons back somehow. If that was how he showed gratitude, then… The maroon-wearing man swallowed thickly, this time very much ignoring his dry throat, "Thanks, but no thanks."
Grif shrugged indifferently again as if that was the end of the conversation before glancing up at the television himself in a rather bored fashion. Simmons regarded him for a few moments longer before sighing to himself, figuring that was probably the end of that particular discussion.
In the oddly comfortable silence they had lapsed into, Simmons turned around in his seat to see what the others were up to out of mild curiosity, "Uh," his face heated up again as he quickly turned back around to face the now incredibly fascinating countertop, "I think your sister is about to give Volleyball a lap dance."
Exasperation suffused every feature on Grif's face as he let out a weary-sounding groan before jumping up from his seat to go and stop her, "Goddamn it, Kai!" He shouted out in frustration.
In the split-second following Grif's hasty departure over to Kai's table, Simmons stood up himself. He waved goodbye to Church and the others before stepping outside, already wanting to kick himself for the realization that he would definitely be seeing everyone again.
Quite a few of the other Reds and Blues (man, it was silly how that name apparently stuck) had already vacated the LZ by the time Dexter Grif finally left, though he had really only stuck around as long as he had to ensure that Kai would hopefully stay out of trouble and to get her to promise that she would head back home soon.
Truth be told, he wasn't exactly making a beeline for the hard-earned roof over their heads himself. Rather, he was walking along the darkened streets of Blood Gulch while mulling over recent events.
Even more of those Freelancer assholes had shown up, which wasn't exactly putting him at ease with the current situation he and Kai were in. And it definitely seemed like this whole "team" business was going to be sticking around for a while, much to his chagrin.
It was just a whole lot of complications that he didn't fucking need, especially considering how much of his life he had already spent either dealing with or trying to avoid unnecessary complications.
…He was just tired.
To make things even more complicated and shitty because that was just how things always were for him, Grif was still avoiding giving those creepy park guys an answer. Mainly because he was pretty fucking sure he knew who they were working for already, and because even though it seemed like they were giving him an illusion of choice that was all it really was and that seriously pissed him off. They knew about him and Kai, they knew what Church was up to, and they had even been in his fucking house. The threat to get him to fall in line was all too apparent.
He couldn't keep avoiding that forever and risking Kai getting hurt. Grif paused on the sidewalk, letting out an exhausted sigh.
For some reason, he was also rather disappointed that Simmons had bailed out so much earlier, even though interacting too much with any of these Reds and Blues assholes was going to undoubtedly bite him in the ass later.
He couldn't help it though. The lanky redhead was a blast to tease and wasn't actually that bad of company. Getting reactions out of him was oddly fun, and Grif found himself genuinely relieved to know that the cyborg was probably sticking around for this whole Reds and Blues bullshit too.
Even if that complicated things, and he usually just wanted to say "fuck it" to any and all complications. It was perplexing and confusing, to say the least, but not nearly as unwelcome as he would have thought. He was pretty sure that just meant that he was a fucking mess though.
"Help!"
Grif started at the utterly terrified voice exclaiming from around the corner, ripping him away from his frustrating thoughts.
A teenage boy with glasses and who was wearing a tan shirt with yellow pants was trying to run towards his direction, only to be grabbed violently around the shoulders by two totally suspicious-looking men in dark suits who proceeded to drag him backwards.
They had been too distracted trying to contain the thrashing young man, so none of them had noticed Grif, who was debating inwardly if he should actually get involved or not.
He definitely noted the tears running down the panic-stricken teen's face as they pulled him away and the obvious metal cuffs tying his wrists together, and he sighed. It wasn't like he could ignore a kidnapping, especially when it was happening right in front of him.
Reluctantly, he ran to catch up with the assholes and their still struggling victim.
There was an unmarked, dark-windowed van around the street corner (not at all creepy or fucked up, nope!), and two more suit guys came out of the vehicle to help haul the poor kid into the open back. One of them had what looked like a syringe in their hand as they all approached the captive as if dealing with a frightened, wild animal.
…Which was probably not all that far removed from how they actually viewed their target, Grif realized with a grimace. And then he got fucking pissed.
"Hey, asswipes!" Grif shouted out before he had time to think of a better plan.
That got their attention, the men all looking over at him in annoyance for the interruption to their work while the teen stared at him with imploring, wide hazel-colored eyes.
Grif wondered briefly if he had enough time to really get their hostile emotions going as they pushed the boy backwards onto the ground to deal with the interloper in their midst, to confuse and incite them enough to turn on one another in fits of jealousy and rage. He had done so before in the past. It served as a great distraction, and if his intended targets had managed to knock themselves out without him having been seen back then, just another example as to why emotional and mental health screenings for certain jobs were a good idea.
But they had already seen him, and it took a lot of energy and finesse to do that sort of thing in order to get the desired results instead of having a bunch of berserkers vent their aggravation out on him or, worse yet, the kid now struggling to get up on his feet again with his hands still bound. But the sedative the one asshole was still gripping in his dumb fist gave Grif an idea that would be just as effective in the quiet, empty streets without nearly as much work on his end.
"Night, night. Assholes." Grif muttered as he reached out, sensing the emotions resonating within the four goons and adding an overwhelming layer throughout all of them that he was oh so keenly familiar with himself these days.
It worked like a charm. The would-be abductors were out like lights on the ground in crumpled over heaps before they even had the chance to properly yawn. Grif was almost envious, but knew they didn't have too much time before something could wake them up again.
"Kid," Grif whispered urgently as he hurried over to the auburn-haired youth just as he managed to pull himself up, "We need to go. Now." He only took a moment to glance at the teen in an assessing manner, "You all right?"
Probably a dumb question given the circumstances, but it never hurt to ask.
"Y—yes, sir!" The teenager shakily nodded, adrenaline and fear still coursing through his veins even as he looked immensely relieved by this change of events, "Thank you so much!"
"Don't thank me until we're as far away from these dicks as possible." Grif told the younger male curtly before he started to walk away with the still cuffed boy hot on his heels, "Do you live around here, or know a place we could hide at…?" He trailed off, realizing that he didn't even know the teen's name yet.
The would-be victim nodded his head vigorously once more in response to Grif's question and, as if sensing why Grif hadn't continued speaking even before the heavyset man attempted to ask him for his name later, he added, "It's…it's Matthews, sir."
Author's Notes: One of these days, I might actually write a multi-chaptered story that does not involve a scene with people hanging out at a bar or restaurant, but since that is also probably going to happen in the next planned update of Avalanche, it won't be anytime soon! XD …Help me, I have a problem! :)
Three more Lieutenants were introduced in this update, huzzah! :) And, yes, you have probably already guessed the identity of Caboose's mysterious pilot sister because I totally made it obvious and I absolutely love that head-canon. :D
I tried to hint around at several different plot threads that will majorly come into play as the story progresses in this chapter, and while some of those might not seem too terribly connected now, how they actually do all tie together shall be revealed in due time! *insert maniacal laughter here*
Kimball and Tucker both have it bad for their respective crushes already but, dang, are Grif and Simmons still in denial over those pesky "funny feelings"! :D Also, Kai totally gave Volleyball that lap dance the second Grif left. WE ALL KNOWS IT! XD
Thank you for reading! :)