A/N: Hey guys, I'm here with Chapter 22 of the story I've had possibly the most amount of fun writing, Agent Reach. I know that bringing South into the Blood Gulch crew has raised some crucial questions, including this one: Who will be Recovery Two? Well, I have another OC Freelancer based off of one of my friends on Xbox, and her Halo: Reach character: Agent Massachusetts. And one review made me laugh when someone said they wanted to give South a hug but also shank her at the same time XDD

P.S. I finally got my hands on my dream car: a white 1991 Mazda RX-7 FC3S

*Chapter 22*

Washington sat in his cell, holding his head in hands and looking out of the small window. He ached for freedom, just so he could get out of the mess Project Freelancer had become. But, that hope seemed to be nothing but the dream of a fool. ONI had no intention of letting the black/gold Freelancer go; he was lucky that he wasn't shot on sight when an ONI hit-squad snuck onboard the Mother of Invention to try and find the Director.

'There must be a way out of this…I can't just sit here and die slowly,' Washington sighed. The door to his cell opened, and he heard an annoyed male voice speak. "You have a visitor, Recovery One." Washington turned around, his grey eyes betraying their intense longing to get out. "Who?" 'Since when the fuck do I have a visitor? I'm in a maximum security prison at the ass-end of the galaxy. No one should even know I'm here, apart from any surviving Freelancers, the Meta, and the Director.'

A woman, wearing blue/white armor with big green eyes, and light brown hair stepped into the cell. "Me." She turned to the guard, pointing. "I can deal with him on my own." The guard nodded, giving Washington a glare that was returned. "Very well."

Washington looked at the mysterious woman, folding his arms and blowing a strand of his black hair out of his eyes. "Who are you, and what the fuck do you want?" 'Probably some secret ONI agent that wants me dead for fucking their sister in high school, knowing my luck.'

The woman scoffed, folding her arms and taking a seat across from him. "Two things, Agent Washington. One; I could shoot you now, and I wouldn't suffer any consequences, so don't use that tone with me. Two; what I want is to talk. I can make the Chairman an offer that will get you out of this shithole."

Washington laughed bitterly, looking at the grey ceiling above him. "Right, and then I'll become the fucking King of England. Tell me another good one." 'No one can make a deal with that asshole. He'll keep me here until I fucking die. Or until the Director turns himself in. Whichever comes first.'

The woman rolled her eyes, giving him a slap. "Washington, do me a favor and use that stuffing between your ears for something other than keeping a helmet on." The black/gold Freelancer's cheek began to sting, and he winced as he felt his cheek. "Who do you work for? ONI? UNSC?" 'Seriously, who the hell is she? And how does she think she can strike a deal with the Chairman? I already tried, and look how that fucking ended.'

"Neither. I'm just like you, David," the woman answered softly. Washington's grey eyes narrowed, clenching his teeth. "How do you know my real name?" 'The only people who know my name should be dead, save for the Director.' His fists tightened, and the woman's green eyes flashed in sadness as she looked out of the window of the cell. "I am Agent Massachusetts of Project Freelancer. Or at least…I was."

Washington snorted, looking down. "That's fucking bullshit! We never had a Massachusetts in the project!" The woman rolled her eyes again, showing him a datapad with all the Freelancers that were listed for Spec-Ops use only, and weren't on the roster. "Look, you fucking imbecile. I was never officially on the list, just like the Meta and Captain Butch Flowers. Or should I say, Agent Missouri and Agent Florida."

"So you say…" Washington sighed. "But none of us knew who you were. How do I know you're telling me the truth? How do I know that you're not an ONI spy here to kill me?" 'Massachusetts…what a load of bullshit. I honestly can't believe this.' Massachusetts sighed and sat down next to him, running a hand through her hair. "Because…I'm the same as you. Imprisoned until we can provide enough evidence to grant our freedom or until we're killed. The Chairman is the only one keeping me from facing a firing squad. He's willing to give us a chance to prove our innocence."

"And how the fuck do I do that, hm? Just go up to him and say, 'Hey, I can go find the Director, drag his ass over here, and then we can have a drink later?' It just isn't fucking done that way," the black/gold Freelancer said in defeat. 'In what possible way can two imprisoned Freelancers possibly strike a deal with the Chairman? I haven't found anything, apart from York's corpse.'

"You underwent an AI implantation, didn't you?" Massachusetts asked quietly, wiping her legs. "Epsilon." Washington stiffened at the mention of the AI he was supposed to receive. "I did. But what does—"

"If we can find Epsilon, then we can use it as evidence to get us out of this mess," Massachusetts interrupted. "I know enough to know that the AI is missing following the destruction of Project Freelancer. It's our only ticket out of this, though."

Washington shook his head, standing up and ruffling his messy black hair. "I don't know…do you have any word about the others?" The blue/white Freelancer nodded, meeting his grey eyes. "Yes. Though it's only a rumor so far, it's believed South Dakota is looking for Maine and another Freelancer, who I've never heard of. Who's Agent Reach?"

Washington looked at her, stretching his arms within the cramped cell. "He was the newest addition. He received the Eta AI, but went missing along with Maine and Texas following a battle with the Meta. Hell of a fighter, but a good guy." 'Hm…Reach is most likely still alive. I can't see him, Maine, or Tex being killed by the Meta. But if they're hiding somewhere to lie low and get ready to hunt down the Director, where the hell would they hide?'

"I see…not much in the ONI databases," Massachusetts murmured. "The only things include his matches with South Dakota and Missouri, his two mission reports, short medical files, and the fact he was roommates with Maine. Did he have any armor abilities?"

Washington let out a yawn, rubbing his grey eyes. "Yeah. Active Camouflage unit that Eta runs." Massachusetts didn't look up from her datapad as she kept adding things to Reach's file. "Armor configuration?"

"Red and black Mark VI," the black/gold Freelancer answered. "Gold visor." 'If he's alive, then I'll bet he's changed it to not match the known file in case of a situation like this.'

Massachusetts finishing adding the notes to the file, standing up. "Come. We're going to talk to the Chairman about finding Epsilon."

-0-

Tucker blinked his eyes open, groaning as he sat up. "Ughhh…man, what the fuck happened?" His head and legs hurt like hell, and he nearly fell when he tried to stand up. "Whoa! What the fuck?" 'This is some strange shit…'

Tucker then heard an annoyed hiss, and he turned to see Maine standing behind him, arms folded across his massive chest. "Um…good morning?" The massive white man shook his head and slapped the aqua soldier across the back of his head, growling in irritation. Tucker winced, the dull pounding in his head increasing. "Ow…" 'Worst day ever. Of all fucking time.'

Maine picked him up, throwing him onto the bed with an irritated hiss. Tucker tried to sit up when the massive white man pointed at the bed, growling and brandishing his fist. 'Okay…I guess this means he wants me to stay the fuck asleep?'

"Private Tucker, you are currently diagnosed with a mild concussion," the strange red figure that kept appearing on Maine's shoulder said. "It is highly recommended you go to sleep and avoid strenuous activity until your symptoms cease." Maine let out a growl, aiming his giant knifle thing at the aqua soldier and making the red figure laugh. "Yes, I do know that it is incredibly tempting to shoot that large and rather heavy steel ball that's hung above his head. But, do you really want to have to deal with the medical bills you'd have to pay if you did?"

Tucker looked up, gulping as he saw a heavy steel ball hanging above his head, suspended by a chain. 'Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…this looks like some stupid booby trap in that In Diana Jones and the Temple of Poon video.' "Um…where the fuck did you get a chain in the middle of a desert canyon?" 'I swear, this canyon gets stranger by the day!'

"Ask no questions, and you'll hear no lies," the red figure said, its tone suggesting that Tucker ought to drop the conversation before he ended up knocked out for the second time in the span of about two hours. The aqua soldier sighed and slumped his shoulders, lying back down. "Whatever…" 'Maybe, just fucking maybe, we can get a goddamn hot chick on our team, who's also a badass like that black chick on the Red Team.'

He had just closed his eyes when he heard an engine whine overhead, making both him and Maine look up. 'What the fuck is going on here? What the hell makes that kind of sound?' "Okay…what the fuck was that? It didn't sound human."

Maine growled, loading a series of rounds into his knifle before walking outside. The red figure looked back at the aqua soldier, running a hand over its smooth bald head. "We'll deal with whatever it may be. You just go to sleep."

For once, Tucker was too tired and in too much pain to argue. "Okay…" He let his head fall back, and within a few seconds, he was out like a light.

-0-

Maine shook his head as he walked outside of the Blue Base, the hot afternoon sun forcing his armor's cooling fans to work harder than usual. 'Fucking idiot…' The sound from above sounded similar to that of a Covenant Banshee, making him both curious and concerned. 'Why the fuck would a Banshee be in the middle of Blood Gulch? Surely it's not the Meta?'

"Curious. I'm picking up a spike of AI activity from Delta," Sigma whispered. "Though he is not with Agent New York. He is with a new host." Maine's eyes narrowed under his helmet, gripping his Brute Shot. 'Who?'

"I don't know. But one thing's for sure; it isn't the Meta," Sigma answered. Maine growled and stepped outside, watching as a Covenant Banshee circled above them. 'We need to try and establish communications with it first.'

"I agree," Sigma whispered. The red AI opened up a COM channel, trying to contact the pilot of the Banshee when it veered towards the ground, landing rather harshly. The cockpit opened, throwing its pilot out as the alien aircraft crashed into the sand. And the occupant nearly made Maine rub his eyes to make sure it wasn't some sort of stupid desert illusion. 'South? What the fuck is she doing here?'

"I don't know," Sigma admitted. "Though she sure doesn't seem to be completely okay." Maine snorted and marched over to the fallen lavender Freelancer, aiming his Brute Shot at her and growling. 'Why are you here, South?'

Her light green eyes stared into his domed visor, and she rubbed her own as if she were dreaming. "M-maine? Is that…you?" She tried to stand up, only to stumble and fall, panting hard. Maine placed his Brute Shot across his back, catching her in his arms to prevent her from hitting her head on the ground. 'She's feels hot…too hot. Not to mention the telemetry coming from her armor. Something's not right.'

The massive white Freelancer placed a hand on her forehead, his eyebrows furrowing as he realized just how hot it was. 'Damn. She's got a fever. A high one, too. We better take her inside.' As Maine picked South up, he saw the wounds she had, including a serious one in her side. 'Both wounded and sick…you're a mess, you know that?'

As he carried her into Blue Base, the lavender Freelancer's eyes fluttered open, though they were hazy and glazed. "Where..am I?" Sigma flashed up, answering for the mute man. "You are currently in the Blood Gulch Blue Team Base. And hello, brother."

Delta's hologram appeared, looking solemn as though someone had been recently killed. "Hello, Sigma. It's nice to see that you two are still alive. I have news to give you, but I want to know this; are Agent Texas and Agent Reach still alive?"

"They are, though they are at the other end of the canyon," Sigma answered, folding his arms across his chest. "How did you manage to find us? We weren't picking up anything from you out here." Delta let out a sigh, appearing next to his brother. "We didn't, either. The signal we picked up was from our original, Alpha. We tracked the location to here, and upon our journey, it appears as though the wounds South received during a battle with the Meta got infected. And that leads me to the news I have to give you. Agent North Dakota is dead."

'Yet another one of us has fallen…there's not many of us left,' Maine growled. To him, North was always a nice guy. When Maine was undergoing the rehabilitation for his throat wound, the purple Freelancer kept encouraging him to become better, to become stronger than he was before. And they shared quite a few beers together.

"That is most regrettable," Sigma said, lowering his head. "What was his cause of death?" Delta paused, casting South a sad glance. "I'd rather not say it…I think we'd all prefer if she tells us the story." The sympathetic tone in the green AI's voice was unlike him, for Delta was incredibly good at being blunt and brutally honest.

Maine placed South down gently on the bed, folding her hands across her chest. 'Her armor's life support system is going haywire. The Meta must have struck that spot just perfectly...' The lavender Freelancer's breathing slowly started to increase, and her green eyes closed, passing out.

"We need to contact Reach and Texas immediately," Sigma whispered. "This is very important news." Maine nodded, growling and brushing some of South's hair out of her face. Even with his armor on, he could feel just how soft it was. 'Maybe…she came here looking for me? But why? Why would she want me for?'

'I'll ask her later, when she wakes up.' Maine grabbed a medical kit, looking at the wound more closely. His face began to heat as he realized he would have to remove her armor to treat it properly. 'Oh, for fuck's sake…we don't have a goddamn dolly to do this for us. It'll have to be done manually…and this is too fucking important to leave to those two morons. Sigma, work on calling Reach and his perverted blonde cat girlfriend.'

The red AI laughed, opening a COM channel to tell Reach and Texas of the news. "Very well. Reach, are you receiving? It's Sigma." The COM crackled for a bit before Reach's voice sounded over. "Read you loud and clear. Has something happened?"

"Yes. We've just had…an interesting visitor arrive here at the Blue Base," Sigma answered. There was a brief pause, and Maine could hear Reach muttering with Texas in the background before the new Red Leader returned to the call. "Is it the Meta or Wyoming?"

"Not at all. It's Agent South Dakota, and she's in pretty rough shape," Sigma replied. "She's been injured in a fight with the Meta, and her wounds have gotten infected. And that's not even the worst of it."

"We lost another Freelancer to the Meta, didn't we?" Reach breathed. "Who was the latest victim?" Maine crouched down next to South, removing her damaged lavender armor. Blood spilled out of the wound in her side, reopening and staining the white Freelancer's armor red. 'Fuck. I didn't want to do that.'

"It was Agent North Dakota. And South Dakota is in no condition to tell us what happened," Sigma answered sadly. "But there's some hope. Delta is here with South, and we'll try our hardest to treat her injuries and find out more."

"I see. I'll tell Texas the news. Call us when South Dakota wakes up." Reach ended the call, and Maine gently removed the burnt shoulder pieces, placing them on the ground. 'Damn…this is ruined beyond repair. I hope we have some spare bits.' In her sleep, South squirmed and let out a soft whimper. Maine hissed as he switched his heat seeking feature on and saw the waves of heat flooding from the wounded Freelancer. 'She's burning up. We need to get this off of her and keep her somewhere cool.'

With her chest and shoulder pieces removed, the white Freelancer sat the unconscious South up, removing her back armor before letting her down gently, not wanting to risk injuring her even more. Maine removed his helmet to get a better look at the wound, opening the medical kit and grabbing a can of biofoam. It wasn't much, but it would keep South from bleeding out and stave off the shock. 'I know how much this shit stings, and I almost hate to do this. But we don't have any other options.'

The white Freelancer inserted the nozzle of the can before spraying, the foam filling up the wound. Still unconscious, South let out another soft whimper, her breathing speeding up. His hands slick with blood, Maine growled as he placed a heavy bandage over the gash, taping it up. 'There. Best we can do on that matter. Now, time to remove the rest of this shit.'

He wiped his hands with a rag, removing the rest of South's damaged armor. Maine was glad she was still out, for he didn't want for her to see just how red his face was as he took off her leg armor, inching his way up. 'This is a bit embarrassing…but it needs to be done.'

Maine froze as he saw there were only two pieces left to remove. The codpiece and the 'ass-armor' as everyone jokingly called it. 'Fuck me…this is awkward.' His face red, he tugged on the codpiece, but it wouldn't come off. He had to remove the 'ass-armor' first. 'Great. If this is God being a pervert, then he's doing too good of a fucking job.'

Giving Sigma and Delta a stare that said, 'Don't you dare tell Reach or Tex about this', Maine rolled South onto her side, taking off the armor on her bottom. 'So glad Tex isn't here to make stupid sex jokes.' With one tug, he managed to also get the codpiece off, letting her back down with a shake of his head. 'That was too much effort for one simple task.' Maine ran a hand over his head and face, growling in annoyance as he felt the coarse facial hair starting to grow due to his negligence of using a razor. 'This shit needs to go.'

The white Freelancer picked South up again, surprised at how light she was without the armor on. He could feel the heat continuing to flood from her wounded body as her carried her easily into an empty room of the base, placing her on the bed. 'I never really thought about it before…but even with her bitchy attitude, South is still quite pretty.' If she controlled her fiery temper a bit better, it would be safe to say Maine might have played his cards and taken a chance. 'Great. I'm thinking this way about one of my now deceased friend's twin sister.'

'And don't you dare fucking die on me, South. Don't you dare…' Maine already lost his good friend Florida earlier in the week, and he didn't plan on having another Freelancer die. 'Sigma, regulate this room's temperature to five degrees lower than the rest of the base. Delta, you try and repair her Drop Shield. With Wyoming still around, I don't want to risk her not having it ready.'

"We're on it, Maine," Sigma said. The red AI's hologram flicked over towards the air conditioning unit, lowering the room's temperature to try and keep South cool as the fever racked her already wounded body. Delta flickered over to the unconscious Freelancer, looking at her Drop Shield. "This might take awhile. It's been damaged severely."

"I believe we have tools in the base," Sigma murmured. "But, with Private Tucker out with a minor concussion and South in her present state…our only real option is Private Caboose. Can you promise not to kill him and ship him to the Red Team, Maine?"

'For now. No saying what I might do to his stupid ass later,' the white Freelancer growled. His irritation increased exponentially as the idiot who shot the most valuable thing in the canyon with a Scorpion-class Battle Tank was mentioned. 'I don't give a shit if he's supposed to be my own soldier. I ought to run his ass over with that fucking tank for shooting Alpha. When we get it fixed, of course.' Though that didn't look as though it was happening any time this century. It would be quicker to drive a Reliant Robin around the Nurburgring than it would to fix the tank at the rate things were going.

The red AI laughed, lowering the temperature another two degrees. "We can hopefully have South to assist us in repairing the Scorpion, when she wakes up." Maine snorted before looking down at the wounded Freelancer. Her silver-blonde hair was sticking to her forehead, and she still squirmed in her sleep. Her closed eyelids were flickering, and her breathing increased even more as she occasionally let out a small pitiful whimper. 'I've never seen South in this bad of shape before. She hated showing any signs of weakness. Even when that bout of flu ravaged the ship, she pressed on.'

Caboose entered the room, his arms full of all the right tools needed to repair vital Freelancer equipment. "Here, sir. Anything else you need from me?" Maine took the tools from him, shaking his head with a growl. 'No. I'm actually surprised he did something right for once. Though I am still going to be running him over with the tank.' The blue soldier left, and Maine handed them over to Delta. 'Here. This ought to make it easier. I'm going to check in on that stupid Casanova wannabe.'

The white Freelancer turned to check in on Tucker when someone grabbed his hand, and he turned around to see it was South. Her eyes were still closed, and Maine froze as she coughed out something he wasn't expecting to hear.

"M-maine…please…don't leave me."

A/N: Sorry guys, but I'm starting to lose it in this chapter, and I wanted to end it before a really terrible idea happened (like making Tex 'jump' Reach in the shower). Also, this may come as a surprise, but I actually like South as a character (might be the only RvB fan who does lol), and I don't exactly plan on killing her off. For now, at least XD. See you!