Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.
A/N: I don't think there's really a way to edit Tucker. He is Tucker. His contribution to the humor cannot be edited. So, he's mostly safe from my language filter. Mostly.
Warning! Tucker. Sarge. Mentions of child abandonment. Grif. That is all.
Episode 19: The Red, The Blue, and The Doc
"So... we gonna follow..." Flowdie began slowly.
"Doc. It's going to just be everyday humdrum stuff for the Reds, so we shall focus on Doc and the Blues. Which also happens to be where O'Malley the AI is," Marley stated grimly, eyes locked on the view screen.
"Makes sense."
"Shushy! Stuff be happenin'!"
/*/
Doc stood there, alone in the middle of the canyon, watching the two Reds run back to their base, in shock. He... hadn't expected to have his own words thrown back at him. It hurt. A lot. And what was worse, was that he had said them first. And all for a social experiment! Maybe Grif was right, maybe he was the worst kind of person. He shook his head. No! He couldn't think like that! 'Wuss!' 'Coward!' 'Whiny baby!' 'Mama's boy!' 'Useless!' 'Good for nothing!' 'Get out!' 'Don't ever come back.' The mocking, jeering, chilling words from his past came back, roaring, whispering, tearing at his ears. He shook his head, and then himself, before turning toward the Blue base. "The Reds may have abandoned me, but I can't give up. Not when there's still one more place I might find shelter," he told himself. Sure the Blues had turned him away in no uncertain terms('We don't want him.' 'You can't give him back! You took him! A deal's a deal!') but maybe... please? He didn't want to be abandoned. Not here. Not again. ('I'll be good, I promise!' 'Don't you love me mom?')
/*/
"What's going on? Are they there? Someone turn me around!" Church demanded, his legs having shorted out when the beeping sound had cut off.
"I don't know. I can't really see too clearly. I bet I could see better if I had that sniper rifle," Tucker said leadingly.
"Uh, Tucker. You might want to look behind you," Church said, staring in mild horror at Caboose, who just so happened to have the Blue team's sniper rifle.
"Fudge eater," the cyan soldier said, once he'd turned around and noticed said rookie with said rifle. What was it with rookies and the sniper rifles in this canyon? It was really rather irritating.
"Uh, ooh, Church!" Caboose began excitedly, like he always did when it came to Church. 'And there's another thing. Church is my grudging comrade, not Caboose's best friend. Church treats most people like dirt, even if he sort of cares deep down. Why does this guy like him so much?' Tucker pondered, but his questions were to go unanswered as Caboose continued to 'explain' what he saw. "Church! Ok, I... I see something. Okay? Uh, the two Red ones are walking away. Uh, but the purple one is..." Caboose paused a moment before, "I think he's going to attack." 'And there's the creepy voice again! I knew I wasn't imagining it! Why won't Church believe me?!'
"Purple?" Church asked. "Oh wait a minute, the purple guy's that worthless medic."
"He's not gonna attack," Tucker stated as though he were talking to a rather young child, "he's a pussy fest."
"Pacifist," Church corrected in the manner of one who has done the same thing for years. Poor Church, he might as well have.
"Ah, whatever. Let's tie him up and roll him through the teleporter," Tucker responded.
/*/
"Oh, that that should be considered a punishment!" lamented Flowdie
"Steaming hot and covered in black gunk. Also, hurt's like a pod drop," Marley said, referencing what had happened the last two times the Blues had used the teleporter.
"Oh. Right. Yep. It's a punishment," Flowdie conceded, wincing slightly. Pod drops were horrible! And he should know, having been an ODST before Project Freelancer.
/*/
"Wait a second, wait a second. Think about this for a minute," Church entreated. "Why would the Reds leave him out there by himself? This has to be some kind of trick." Caboose decided to remind everyone he was there by putting forth his own theory.
"I'll bet they've used some kind of brainwashing technique on him! They're... they're probably planning to have him do all their dirty plans! And also the schemes!" Tucker turned from watching the valley to staring at Caboose. Church hadn't had much choice but to stare at Caboose before, but now he had a feeling he would have turned around anyway in the face of such ridiculousness.
"Caboose, that is ridiculous," Tucker said.
"Is it?" Caboose challenged, ignoring the purple medic closing in on the base in favor of making his idea heard! "Or is it so ridiculous it's the most ridiculously perfect idea that you've never thought of?"
"No, just the regular kind of ridiculous," Tucker quickly shot back. Seriously, the things that came out of Caboose's mouth...
"Well just keep your eye on him," Church said slowly, "we'll know it's a trick if he tried to get into our base." Of course, it was just as Church finished saying this that Doc made his presence known.
"Hey guys! Uh, do you think I could come hang out at your base for a while?" he called. 'Well, he might be coming back, but he really sounds... lost,' Tucker thought, turning back to the purple medic.
"I knew it," Caboose piped up. "We're all gonna die. Starting with you," he added, the threat at the end far deeper than Caboose's usual voice. It sent a by now familiar tingle down Tucker's back. It made the cyan soldier want to whip out his gun and shoot the source between the eyes. He'd even begun practicing the move. It was a way to pass time in the most boring canyon in the galaxy.
"Sorry, but we're kind of busy here," Tucker called down, fighting against the urge to shoot his creepy teammate. "So go away... or something."
"Normally I wouldn't impose it's just that I don't know the neighborhood too well, and..." Doc said, but Church cut him off and turned him away at the same time by saying,
"Listen Doc, you're not fooling anybody with that innocent victim routine!"
"Hey, I could help! I know more than just medicine. I'm trained in psychology too. Maybe I could help you with your problem facing people," Doc tried.
"Just get out of here!" Church yelled, "and tell your buddies in the Red that their little plan failed."
/*/
At Church's words, Doc hung his head and ran back the way he'd come. He figured he should be used to this kind of thing by now. After all, he'd been turned away by just about everyone. So why did it still hurt? And why was now the most painful of all the rejections? More painful than being abandoned by teachers, friends... heck, even his parents abandoned him! And... no one had ever told him why. Oh sure, they said he was 'weird' or 'creepy,' but they'd never given a real reason. His parents had just... vanished. There when he went to bed then gone in the morning. 'They're gone kid. Skipped town in the night.' That's what just about everyone had told him. 'Ha! Bet they didn't want a no-account looser like you for a son anyway!' That's what a few of the older kids had said. But he'd gotten better! He'd tried to be more positive, to not get into fights, to believe that violence never solved anything. He'd promised to be good. Though, it was pretty clear why Grif abandoned him. Him throwing Doc's words back into his face was a pretty big indicator as to why he was pushing Doc away but... Why were the Blues so annoyed with him? Plan? What plan? He had no plan! That was the whole problem! Doc stopped abruptly and drew in a sharp breath. Careful. Careful.
Don't go back.
Can't go back...
The Army was the first to accept him, after college, but now Frank Defresne was wondering... had they really? Grif's words came back to him, echoing in his head. 'One day, you're going to break. You're going to break and burn and when that day comes... nothing is going to be able to save you, because you'll be the cause of your own destruction.'
Can't go back.
Have to... move forward...
He wasn't sure how long he ran, the words of rejection and condemnation swimming in his head and whispering in his ears, before he reached the caves. They were bare, drafty, and he could hear water dripping somewhere, but they were better than being in the middle of the canyon where he could easily be caught in the crossfire. So, he sat down and made camp, such as it was. And he sat there, alone with his thoughts.
Ghosts in my head...
Can I move on... ?
/*/
"Poor Doc. You sure we can't pick him up?" Flowdie asked, mug of coffee forgotten by his side. Marley sighed.
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"But... he's just a medic. And he looks emotionally fragile right now."
"Mother birds push their young out of the nest to teach them to fly. Sea turtle eggs are buried under the sand and left to fend for themselves. A Drill Sargent pushes his troops to the breaking point of any regular man... and then beyond. Some break and fail, some preserver and become good soldiers, and then you get the ones that shatter, then forge themselves back together for the sake of their comrades. That, is how a great soldier is made. For doctors, having a patent die on the table is the worst thing to happen and until you face that, you don't know if you have what it takes to be great. Doc hasn't faced that yet. If he had, he'd be far better than he is now. He hasn't even faced a Drill Sargent. This, is only the beginning of his trials. Even now, he is a sheltered child, but Dex and Church have begun the process of tearing that shelter down, brick by brick. And there will come a time, when Doc is forced to face horrific wounds and the knowledge that if he makes one mistake... it could very well cost the brave soldier his life."
"What are..."
"I'm saying that what you would call 'helping him' I'd call 'being soft on him.' And the last thing Doc needs, is someone going easy on him. He's a part of the Reds and Blues, Flowdie. He has his part to play, and play it he must, as much as it pains us to watch. He must play his part in all of this."
"Harsh."
"That's the life of a soldier, Flowdie. That's the hand I've been dealt. The hand we've all been dealt," Marley said, face as grim as her words. Flowdie caught a reflection of her eyes in the window, and sighed. For as set and unyielding as those eyes were... there were silver tears shining in them all the same.
/*/
Eagle was having fun. Who knew annoying Sarge could be so rewarding?! "Just you and me at the base today huh? Well this is new. So I noticed you use a shotgun. That's cool," he blathered, mentally chuckling as waves of silent irritation poured off the fuming Sargent to his right. "I just use this sniper rifle," he added, turning to Sarge, "it works for me." Seeing Sarge was still steadfastly watching the canyon, Eagle Eye decided it was time for a new annoyance technique. He began to whistle. He got bored with that real quick and returned to talking. Or, rather, a variation of the 'are we there yet?' question. "So, you think the guys will be back soon? What do you think they're up to? You think they stopped at the store?" 'That thrice dratted store!' "I noticed we were getting pre~tty low on elbow grease." 'Darn you Grif! And you too Simmons. You didn't remind me that was a figure of speech!' Eagle watched Sarge for a moment, his CO's frustration distracting him from his own. He decided, it was time to make another play for 'better' armor. "When you die, can I have your armor?" he asked, just as Grif came jogging up the ramp, Simmons not far behind.
"Hey, we're back," Simmons said.
"Oh man, am I glad to see you guys," Eagle said, all too happy. Sarge just turned around, far too irritated with the pink Private to say anything at the moment. "Sarge would not stop talking. Seriously."
"Grif, Simmons, were you able to work out a suitable exchange?" Sarge asked, barely restraining himself from strangling the pink Private at his side.
"Uh, not exactly sir. You see, when we showed up, the Blues were doing something really weird. And then the..." Simmons said, before Grif cut him off.
"Really weird. And they were rude," he said.
"Hey Grif, I thought we agreed I was going to tell the story," Simmons groused, obviously put off by the interruption.
"Excuse me, go ahead," Grif said sarcastically.
"Well, you see, the Blue guys were really weird. And not just normal weird, really weird," Simmons went on.
"You're not telling it right," Grif interrupted.
"Ok, fine, how do you remember it?" Simmons asked, giving up on telling things his way. Eagle was having quite a time of keeping his chuckles under control.
"Well, I remember we agreed that you're a suck up," Grif said. "I got fuzzy on the rest of the details." Oh, Eagle was sure he was smirking under that helmet.
"Anyway, they didn't want the prisoner back sir," Simmons related, playing the 'ignore the fool' game that pretty much everyone played more or less constantly in Blood Gulch.
"Why, those cunning Blue devils. Does their treachery know no bounds?" Sarge declared.
"It wasn't a total loss sir," Grif said, though Eagle had to wonder if he was really trying to appease Sarge. "I was able to steal his wallet." Ah. Actually... Eagle wasn't sure if that was appeasing Sarge... or just making himself feel better.
"Grif, I may just make a respectable soldier out of you yet." Wait... what?
"Really sir?" Grif asked, incredulous. Eagle only just managed to keep from laughing, that was exactly what he was thinking, but what Sarge said next caused a few chuckles to leak out.
"Heck no! Now leave the money on my nightstand and get back to work!" Grif growled, then shrugged and trudged off, flicking a dark brown wallet into the air as he left.
"There's Doc's money. I'm out," he said. Simmons chuckled and followed... until Sarge stopped him.
"Take over Simmons! I need to make sure Grif actually does his work!" he said. Simmons chuckled again.
"You mean, 'I can't take anymore of Eagle's non-stop talking,'" he said. Sarge didn't even pause in his escape. Simmons turned to the pink soldier. "You just had to annoy him... didn't you?" he asked. Eagle shrugged, grinning rakishly under his helmet where no-one could see it.
"I was wondering when he'd snap and tell me to 'drop and give me twenty!' Sadly, you interrupted before I could get him to that point," he said. Simmons laughed lightly, looking out over the canyon.
"Guard duty is rather boring, but annoying your CO is not the best of ideas."
"Oh? Then what do you call what you and Grif do on guard duty?"
"Annoying an equal. Bantering with a friend. Training ourselves not to Team Kill. Take your pick," Simmons responded easily. Eagle chuckled and leaned against the wall of the base.
"And here I thought it was the Blues who were weird."
"Oh they are."
"Yeah... but you guys are too."
"Your point?"
"Don't be so quick to judge." Simmons found himself suffering from uncontrollable chuckles.
/*/
Grif was just exiting storage when a grenade was going off in the middle of No-Man's Land. He dashed up the ramp to see Eagle with his rifle surrounded by Simmons and Sarge. "What the heck is going on out there?!" he heard Sarge yell at Eagle.
"Sir, I think we're under attack. A very sloppy, poorly-coordinated attack," the young man reported.
"How many do you see?" Sarge asked. Grif began mentally preparing... meaning he was giving the 'Dex' side of him a bit more control.
"There's two running our way, and another one seems to be... retreating?" Eagle said, a little unsure about that last part. Grif was too. Why would a Blue be retreating when he had back-up coming?
"Oh, we'll give them all a reason to retreat," Sarge said darkly. "Saddle up Simmons, let's go rope us some Blue steer!"
"Whoo-hoo! Yeah!" Simmons shouted, leaping off the base.
"Yeah!" Sarge yelled. Eagle stifled a snicker as Grif waved mockingly at their retreating backs.
"So, just you and me, hanging out at the base," the young soldier said to his orange armored teammate, grinning evilly all the while. "That's cool."
"Shut up Rookie," Grif growled. Eagle blinked, staring at Grif for a moment, before his grin grew just a little larger.
"Oh, I think we'll get along just fine," he said before falling silent and tracking Sarge and Simmons Warthog through his scope. "Say, think they'll be gone long? You and Simmons interrupted me and Sarge. I have a feeling I was ten seconds away from getting him to snap."
"Wait wait wait... you mean to say you goaded Sarge?" Grif asked in shock.
"Ya know... it always amazes me when people think I'm an innocent rookie who wouldn't dare mess with my CO," Eagle replied. "Anyway, me and Sarge had a great time together."
"I'm really not going to crack."
"Hum... that's what makes this fun Grif!" Eagle said. "Want to know what we did?"
"Oh for the love of Godiva! Shut up!"
"Aw~! You're cracking already?" Grif gave a great shuddering moan. It was going to be a long day.
/*/
"All right, hit it!" Simmons called, wanting to get as far away from an annoying, bored, Eagle as he could. He really had no trouble throwing Grif under that bus. As they bounded across the canyon, Sarge and Simmons continued to act like cowboys. Why, Simmons really couldn't tell you. He also couldn't tell you why he seemed to be having fun with it. It just was. Though, 'jumping' the Warthog over a hill just the Blues' side of the middle of the canyon, Simmons could have sworn he saw a real, transparent, ghost watching them. "Hey sarge! Hold on a sec," he said, jumping off the gunner's platform. "Did you see something weird Sarge?" he asked.
"Yes I did," Sarge said, stopping the Warthog and hopping out, "once, when I was a small child, I saw a man who claimed to be my uncle do this thing with a garden hose that still haunts me to thi..."
"Whoa, whoa," Simmons said quickly, cutting off Sarge's story. He really didn't need to know that! "I meant, did you see something weird just now, like five seconds ago," he clarified.
"Oh. Then no," Sarge said quickly. Simmons had a feeling he was a bit embarrassed about the whole garden hose... thing.
"What was all that stuff about your uncle?" Simmons just had to ask. Seriously, how could he just leave something like that hanging? I mean, what made him feel like he had to talk about that?!
"I keep telling everyone, he wasn't my uncle! He wasn't!" Sarge denied. Simmons quirked an eyebrow. Venomous much?
"You want to talk about it?" Simmons asked, though he was kinda hoping Sarge'd say no. He wasn't a therapist, and he had a feeling that should he ever get shipped back home he'd need one himself for all the craziness that went down in this canyon, but he had felt obligated to ask. So, he was rather relived when Sarge said,
"Just get back in the darn jeep."
/*/
Back over where the real drama was happening... "Eagle... I swear... you say... one more word... and I'll throw you off this base, drop a crate of grenades on your head, and then shoot it... with a ROCKET LAUNCHER!" Dex bellowed. Eagle flinched... and shut up. Dex breathed a deep sigh of relief. The kid just never. Stopped. Talking! 'Bomp, thump. Bomp, thump.' "What is that?"
"You never seen someone play catch with themselves before Grif?" Eagle asked lightly, tossing the slightly ragged tennis ball at the wall of the base, then catching it with the opposite hand. Grif sighed, cast a look over his shoulder, then shrugged.
"Doubt we'll get attacked... and if all I hear is that noise, I'm going to go crazy. Toss it here," he said, holding up a hand. Eagle bounced slightly, their version of a smile, and tossed the ball to the other soldier.
/*/
"I told you throwing that grenade through the teleporter would work. Church is going to be so impressed," Tucker said, turning to Caboose and ignoring the robot in front of them.
"And Sheila will love me again," the blue Private said. Tucker felt that twitch, that special 'Caboose twitch,' in his left eyebrow. There he went, being all weird again. Stupid Caboose. "And this time, for who I am, not just for my stunning good looks, but for those too." Lopez took this moment to sneakily insult them in Spanish.
"Darn those blue guys. They really are as stupid as they look," the robot muttered. Caboose replied in his 'deep scary voice.'
"Your soul is a cavern of lies," he said.
"What the heck are you two talking about?" Tucker asked, totally lost. Not only did he not speak Spanish, but Caboose's comment just plain didn't make sense. 'I mean, coodoos for the scary dark tone, but what does that even mean?' he wondered.
"You may have won this round, but your cruel reign of tyranny will be short lived," Lopez dramatically claimed... still in Spanish. "The Red people will be avenged..." he continued... in Spanish... before Tucker cut off his dramatic speech.
"Yeah yeah yeah, nobody cares. We need you to fix our tank," Tucker said.
"Never will I work for the enemy," Lopez responded, this time in English, before continuing in Spanish. Rants were always better in Spanish... according to Lopez. "May a pox be upon your soul and your house. Long have my people suffer, but very soon wee will see the coming of a new day..." as he spoke, Lopez saw his primary objectives listed out in red. '1. Fix everything. 2. hate the orange one. 3. Call mom more often.' "The dawn of our time is near, and when the darkness befalls your people the workers of the field will know that this is their moment," he went on, still in Spanish. It was at that point Tucker pretty much stopped listening.
"Man, and I thought Church talked too much," he remarked to Caboose. "You think if I kick him in the switch he'll shut up?" Caboose turned to him.
"Um, Tucker? I think that maybe we should begin the going of the running now," he said, having noticed something coming up behind Lopez the Spanish Ranting Robot from Red Base. "The fast running," he added, turning back toward Red Base, Tucker following his movement.
"Oh carp!" Tucker exclaimed, seeing the Red Team's Warthog, complete with Sarge and maroon gunner guy.
/*/
Simmons lined up his shot on the three Blues. "Hold your fire there, Simmons," Sarge called back, "this is payback time." Understanding perfectly, there was only one response Simmons could give.
"Go for it sir!"
/*/
"That's right, we're just casually strolling away. No cause for concern," Tucker said, quickly backpedaling and leaving Caboose out there alone with Lopez and a Warthog manned by Reds. Caboose paused for a moment, then declared,
"Running time!"
"Nice and casual, moron!" Tucker yelled after the running Private... before running after him. Lopez, still stuck in Spanish mode, nodded imperiously.
"Yes, yes, run away, you cowardly dogs. Be it known that the great Lopez has won this day and..." he monologed, not knowing Sarge and Simmons were bearing down on him in a Warthog and with his new paint job, they wouldn't be able to tell him from the Blue 'ghost' that had been possessing him.
"Aim for that guy right in the middle, Sarge," Simmons instructed.
"Way ahead of ya Simmons!" Sarge replied, pressing a little harder on the accelerator. 'How Grif makes this look so easy I don't know,' Sarge thought. 'It's far harder than I thought.'
"What is happening?" Lopez asked, finally switching back to English. He turned around to see the Warthog barreling toward him. There was no way it could stop or turn in time to not hit him. More red text flashed across his display. 'System override protocol, remote destruct sequence.' "You have given me no choice," Lopez muttered, switching back to Spanish in robotic distress.
"We've got you now, you blue idiot!" Lopez heard Simmons yell as yet more red text flashed before him. 'ACTIVATED.' "Hey, Sarge, do you hear a strange beeping sound?" Simmons asked just before the Warthog blew up.
"I'm sorry, father," Lopez lamented... in Spanish, thus making it so that Caboose and Tucker didn't understand the depth of his despair. Of course, Lopez always got stuck in Spanish mode when his emotion simulator fluctuated wildly or slipped into 'negative.' So, Lopez was going to be stuck in Spanish mode as long as he was with the Blues. Yeah, sometimes, it really sucked to be him.
"All right, not bad robot dude," Tucker enthused.
"I knew he would save us," Caboose said in something similar to awe. It was kinda hard to tell with Caboose. Tucker turned to him, incredulous. "I knew it!" Tucker blinked at the last living member of Blue Team. This kid... it must be so fun inside his head... so many bunny trails and so much denial. "Robot people always like me. It's because of my awesome dancing." Seriously, what goes on inside that head of his?
"My spirit is broken," Lopez muttered, causing attention to once more be focused on him. "My people have betrayed me and now all is lost. Do with me what you will."
"Yeah, okay man," Tucker said, not understanding a word, "can you just shut up and fix our tank?"
/*/
When they'd heard the 'boom' of the Warthog blowing up, Dex had jumped straight off the base and Frank had dived for cover then rolled into a crouch with his sniper rifle at the ready. Seeing no enemies, but a plume of smoke in the distance, the two shared a look, then took off toward it, Frank hanging back to cover Dex if needed. Neither really noticed how they fell into their positions, and honestly, they had more important things to deal with. Like the groaning Sarge and Simmons along with the still smoking remains of the Warthog. Dex sighed and turned to Frank. "Looks like the Blues have already cleared out. You take Simmons, I'll take Sarge, and once their safely back at base, we'll come back for the jeep," he said, already making his way toward Sarge, assault rifle holstered across his back. Frank nodded and looked Simmons over, determining how bad his injuries were and how would be the best way to carry him. Coming to the conclusion that a fireman's carry wouldn't cause undue stress on his wounds, Frank hoisted the maroon soldier onto his shoulders and set off back to base. Dex conducted a similar scan of his Commanding Officer, and decided that a stretcher would be needed. As Sarge had been driving, he had been unable to jump clear of the jeep as Simmons had. Sighing, he set about making a makeshift sled he could drag Sarge back to base on. It took a while, but eventually Sarge and Simmons were safe in the 'med bay' and the Warthog was laying on it's side outside the base. Shockingly, when Dex and Frank had gotten back with the Warthog, Simmons and Sarge were back on their feet. Sarge insisted on working on the Warthog, and Eagle decided to go off who knew where to do goodness knew what.
/*/
"I hate chess," Frank groused. Flowdie chuckled, capturing another of his pawns.
"Wouldn't be because you suck at it, would it?" Marley asked with a smirk from the doorway.
"Oh, why did I ever agree to this?"
"Because you would have been stuck in pink armor for the rest of your fake military career if you hadn't?" offered Flowdie, moving his rook four spaces to the left. Frank glared at him and captured his rook with a knight.
"I hate you all."
/*/
So, Grif and Simmons were left alone on top of the base. Nothing new there. "Is it just me, or does this jeep seem like really bad luck?" asked Grif, eying the blackened remains of their Warthog with trepidation.
"Yeah, ya know, now that you mention it, it does seem like every time we get into the darn thing is breaks or explodes or goes crazy and tries to kill one of us," Simmons replied as Eagle ran up beside him. For his part, Eagle was just glad he got out after one humiliating defeat. No way was he letting Marley, or Flowdie, talk him into playing chess ever again.
"Maybe we should try exchanging it for a few motorcycles," Eagle said, looking down on the 'bad luck' jeep. Then an idea came to him. "No, wait, wait... a big tank like the Blues have. That thing never seems to have any problems at all."
/*/
Flowdie slowly edged away from his manically laughing 'friend,' a wary look in his eye. "My 'useless vow' and 'irony' senses are tingling~!" Marley sang with evil glee. Flowdie moaned in sympathy, even if it was ahead of time.
"Poor poor fool," he sighed.
"Oh oh! And get this... it's double!" Marley cackled, eyes sparkling with unholy glee. While usually he found this amazingly beautiful, at the moment... Flowdie was fighting the urge to jump out of the ship and hide in a cave. Possibly with Doc.
"I pity the fool," he said gravely. Marley shook her head at him.
"No no no, you have to say it right." Flowdie quirked an eyebrow.
"Oh?" he inquired. Marley nodded so vigorously, she bounced.
"Yeah! It's... I pity da fo. Try it!" she answered, waving her hands at him in an excited 'go on' motion.
"... No. And don't ever talk like that again," he declined, staring her down. She huffed, crossing her arms with a pout.
"Spoil sport," she muttered, turning her head to the side. Flowdie grinned and noted it as a win. He had to take any he could get.
/*/
Meanwhile, an 'emotionally distressed' Lopez was getting instructions from 'ghost' Church. "All right, that's the deal mister robot. You fix our tank, we'll let you go free," he said.
"I thought the plan was to trick him into fixing the tank and then Church will take over his body again when he is done," Caboose 'whispered' to Tucker. The cyan soldier wondered if there were whispering lessons he could send the rookie to. Seems he was a rookie in a lot of ways.
"Yeah, but you don't tell the person you're tricking what's going on Caboose," Tucker explained.
"So, if I'm the one being tricked, then you would not tell me what is really going on?" asked Caboose, aghast.
"Why would we trick you?" asked Tucker, puzzled by the way Caboose's mind worked. Oh wait... he was already puzzled by Caboose's brain functions... or... lack there of.
"Oh, I think you know," Caboose shot back, almost sounding angry but not quite. In fact, it kinda sounded like he was mimicking a 'scandalized girlfriend confronts boyfriend' scene from a sitcom but couldn't quite get the emotion in the voice just right. Meanwhile, depressed Lopez was being depressed with Church.
"Where will I go?" the now-Spanish robot asked. "Even my friends have tried to kill me."
"Okay, I'm going to take that as a yes," Church said, "and let you get busy with the tank fixing."
"I have no home," depressed!Lopez said... with no emotion in his voice.
/?/
A/N: Poor DOC! I was really mean to him wasn't I? Eh, I could have been worse to him. I wanted him to meet Dex when he was training in The Cave, but couldn't fit it in the time line. So... Doc actually dodged a bullet in this one.
I don't know why, but I just feel like he had a really tragic home life that traumatized him, making him the Doc we see in the series. Wait... now that I'm thinking about it... all of Red Team has emotional baggage from their home lives. Though... maybe not Doughnut. He's going to be the odd one out... maybe. Heh, poor poor Doughnut. Also... Depressed!Lopez and a random chess game! As well as the answer to how Sarge and Simmons got back to base and how the misunderstood!Lopez jokes are going to work. YAY!
A/N 2: Yeah... not much was changed on this one. Though, I should point out that originally Dex's gym was in The Caves rather than a hidden nook. While checking my continuity, I remembered Grif's fear of bats, so that ruled the cave gym out. Also, Doughnut now has some emotional baggage! 8/18/16