A/N 1: So, I got a guest review that was just too good not to comment on. RandomManGaming, I'm not too sure what you meant by Dex being less 'harass' if he used the time unit, but I will agree not to have him use it. There would be far too many Doctor Who references slipped in, even if the variety was a little limited by my not having watched the show in a while. I'm an American without cable, alright?

As for RandomManGaming's second 'point', I, myself, would be a horrible choice for training Caboose. I might be able to get him to roll over and/or play dead by substituting cookies for doggie biscuits, but that's about it. Also, Marley is far more focused on her boys and will not be training the Blues. That said, there are more characters coming and Caboose will get training before Chorus(. If I had worked this element in earlier... hee~! Oh, the fun I could have with a fully trained Micheal J. Caboose! *Descends into maniacal laughter, evil hand wringing, and darkly gleeful mutterings involving spiked kittens and red bull.* Whoo! I'm back! Man, Competent!Caboose-land is creepy! And yet, oh so fun...

Anyway, a great big thank you to RandomManGaming, whoever you are, for the input and the glowing reviews. My muse eats input for breakfast, and Glowing Reviews for dessert. Did you know, I'm fairly sure that's where most of the fluff I write comes from? Yikes! This has gotten super long! Right. Onward, to what you really came here to read!

Disclaimer: I don't own RvB.

Episode 33: Good Bye Blood Gulch

Flowdie and Tex arrived at the coordinates for the closest UNSC judicial base, but what they found was... "Okay, who did this? Who did this?! I want names, I want ranks, I want gosh darn dental records!" Flowdie snarled, slamming his hands down on the console, glaring at the floating scrap yard that was once a space station. Wyoming started laughing and, in his aggravated state, Flowdie decided, "Ya know, we don't really need him alive for this. We just need his helmet intact."

"What?" Wyoming asked, nervous of the magnum that was now aimed at his neck.

"One more sound out of you, and my finger might just slip and send a bullet flying through your windpipe," the former Agent Florida growled. Wyoming settled down after that. "Now, we just need..." Flowdie began, before an explosion rocked their ship. "Sons of ballistas!" he spat, grabbing the controls once more and jumping to slip-space. "Okay, that bought us some time, but it won't do much for us. Tex, I have to ask... do you want to live?" Tex stared at the former Agent Florida... and let out a long, tired, sigh.

"You know what I really am, don't you?" she asked. Her companion nodded solemnly. Wyoming was confused, but decided it would be better to watch how this little drama played out before he said anything.

"You're Beta, an A.I. fragment based on the Director's late wife... and the mother of Carolina," Flowdie said. Wyoming felt his eyes go wide. Tex was Carolina's mother?! Suddenly, a lot of things about the aqua Freelancer, and her 'working' relationship with Tex, made a bit more sense. But wait, if Allison was the Director's wife...

"She must have gotten all her skill from her mother," Reggie said before he could catch himself. Slowly, both of the other occupants of the ship turned to give him a bland stare.

"Oh. So the Director couldn't shot the broad side of a barn even if he were using a sniper rifle? Man, how did he ever end up with a woman like Allison?" Flowdie remarked. Tex chuckled.

"Hard as it is to believe, Leonard could be tender, caring, and genuinely funny. He was a dork, don't get me wrong, and he was also a jerk, but... somewhere along the line... he became my dorky jerk," she said, sounding almost fond. Flowdie sighed.

"It is hard to believe. And I'm still waiting on that answer," he said. Tex sighed again.

"Why can't he let me go?" she asked.

"As a guy, I can tell you with utter confidence... it was because he loved you more than life itself," Flowdie told her. She twitched.

"You have someone you can't let go of as well, don't you," she remarked. Flowdie nodded.

"Marley, the Surgeon of Death," he said.

"If she died..." Tex prompted. Flowdie chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head at the A.I.

"I'd never be the same, but I wouldn't try to bring her back. She makes a habit of saying goodbye... without actually saying goodbye," Flowdie said. Tex chuckled as well, though it was a melancholy sound.

"You're a better man than Church," she told him, both of them ignoring the sharp in-take of breath from Wyoming as yet more pieces fell into place.

"Again, still waiting for an answer. Do you want to live?"

"Am I even alive enough to die?" Tex asked, looking at her robotic hands.

"There's a loaded question if ever I heard one," Flowdie remarked, faintly amused, before pulling out a data chip and playing with it as he considered his next words carefully. "Tex... I don't know what to tell you. As an A.I, even if a fragmented A.I, you could be considered a live program, but as a person... You're barely even a shadow of your former self. The last thing the Director, and now the Alpha and all his fragments, remember of Allison is that she died. She failed. And now... that's all he, they, can focus on. It effects you severely, that negative memory. But even if you're based on remembered failure, there's a chance you could progress from it, become your own person. Still, if you stick around, Church is just going to continue obsessing about you, chasing you. Neither of you will find rest. The choice to stick around as an incomplete A.I. or move on to a memory is entirely yours," her told her seriously. Wyoming was lamenting the lack of popcorn. This was better than daytime television.

"It's time for Leonard to move on," Tex decided. Flowdie nodded and handed her the chip. "What's this?" she asked, considering it curiously.

"That... is a virus. Load it into your armor and not only will it delete all resident programs, it'll mess with the equipment of anyone who tried to loot your armor. Not too much, but it'll still cause problems," he told her. She didn't hesitate to slot the disk into place. "Rest in peace, Allison," Flowdie said, a moment before the robot deactivated. "Well. That's one head ache dealt with. Not too sure how well it was dealt with, but it's dealt with. Now for the other one," Flowdie said, turning toward Wyoming. "I never did like you."

"Who are you?" Wyoming asked. The man chuckled and took off the helmet.

"I had thought it was obvious by now, Reggie. I'm Butch Flowers, former Agent Florida. We have much to discuss," he said, sitting in a chair across from the white armored soldier with a seemingly lazy smile.

"I don't think we do," Wyoming shot back. Flowdie scoffed, that easy smile turning to a cold stare and disdainful sneer.

"Sure we do. Such as... why did you turn on Marley? Do you really want to take orders from aliens? Do you really want O'Malley as leader of an aggressive race hell bent on activating the HALOs and wiping out all human life in the universe, regardless of how many other species will be wiped out? Is that what you want to be your legacy?" he said. Wyoming looked away, deeply buried conscious wincing at the rather valid points his former protege was bringing up. Again.

"Agent Washington isn't the only one with scars, Florida," he said softly, then looked back at his interrogator, "he's just terrible at hiding them." Flowide shook his head.

"I know, Wyoming. Believe me, I do, but are you going to let the tortured fragment of an A.I. based off the Director dictate your life? Or do you want to be something more?" he asked. "I can't guarantee fame or fortune, but The Phantoms are a lot better that Project Freelancer."

"We'll see," Wyoming said. Flowdie shook his head again and looked toward where the Elites, and O'Malley, were being held.

"Do you know what it feels like to have all the rage and hate of the Director in your head, Reginald?" he said, speaking more to himself than his prisoner. "It's like being a passenger in your own body while someone else's fury is leading you. It feels like fire and ice and madness raging through your blood, pounding in your head, and turning the world a pulsing purple. No clue why Rage is purple and Ambition and Creativity is red, but there you are."

"What do you hope to accomplish with this?" Wyoming asked, drawing Flowdie's attention back to him.

"I hope... that I don't have to put a bullet in your brain," Flowdie remarked coldly. Wyoming felt a shiver go down his back. He had never known Florida to be so... ruthless. "But like I said, I'm hoping to avoid that. You're a decent sniper, Reggie, and once you put aside the knock knock jokes and casual sadism, you aren't bad company. Better than O'Malley at any rate." Wyoming sighed.

"If I said this wasn't what I wanted, what would you do?" he asked, his callous mask cracking and the tormented man beneath showing through, even if only for a moment. It was all the encouragement the bleeding heart in Flowdie needed.

"I'd fake your death, hand over your armor to the UNSC, get you a new name, a new file, and let you decide what you do with your clean slate," he said with a shrug. Wyoming looked down for a moment, then pulled off his helmet and stared at it.

"The orange one took Gary. And my time unit," he said. Flowdie shrugged.

"So? You're still you. Still a darn good marksman. Still British. Do you honestly want them back?" he asked. Wyoming looked up and gave the other man a flat look. Even his mustache looked indignant. "Okay... how are you making your facial hair look indignant? Because that, my friend, is a neat little trick," Flowdie asked, pointing at the sniper. Reggie chuckled.

"Even I'm not too sure, Butch," he said, then tossed the helmet to the other ex-Freelancer. "And no. I don't want it back. I've grown complacent, reliant on the two edged tools Freelancer gave me. And besides," here he gave a weary, self-deprecating smile, "they're part of Agent Wyoming, and I'm tired of being that man." Flowdie chuckled, tossing the helmet behind him.

"Alright then. Now we just need to fake your death," he said. Reggie chuckled, leaning back and finally feeling... free.

/*/

The Blues were demoralized. No wait, that wasn't quite right.

Church was more of a robot than usual, Tucker was busy with his kid, and Caboose was, well, Caboose.

Needless to say, there was nothing the Reds really needed to be doing, and attacking the Blues just felt like kicking somebody's puppy or in Church's case, their sick puppy. So yeah, they weren't thinking about fighting the Blues. Especially since Kai was part of their team, even if Marley had taken the girl for a week long training session. And because of the aforementioned training session, Dex didn't feel like doing much of anything. In fact, he was curled up on his bed, hugging his knees, in the dark, and looking like a pile of angst and woe. Yeah, it was bad. Someone knocked on his door and the Hawaiian hunkered further down in his bed, willing them to go away. "Sorry Dex, but the Death Aura doesn't work so well on me. Works even worse when there's a door between us," Rick's voice said. Dex growled. "Better, but still not gonna get rid of me big guy. Come on, you've been holed up in there for the last four days! You haven't eaten or drunk anything in that time. I'm not even sure if you've used the bathroom! Come on, do you want Kai to come back to see you like this?" Oh~ho, that was low, using the Little Sister card like that. Dex was going to bury him.

"No," he muttered, trying to ooze even further into his bed. He heard a scoff from the door and just knew Rick had his arms crossed while he glared at the door.

"I didn't think so. I'll make you some tea and toast, you get a shower," Rick said, voice deathly calm. Dex groaned. He really didn't want to get up, but Rick had a point. And not doing what Rick said when he used that tone was just asking for trouble. Like, forcing the door open and dragging him out kicking and screaming trouble. Or itching powder in the air vents and routed to his room trouble, which, when he thought about it, was much more likely. Not liking those options, Dex gave in and got up.

"Fine! I'm up!" he snapped.

"Good boy! Now take your shower and I'll set the water to boil," Rick said in a smug, condescending tone that told Dex the tech was smirking at his door. Groaning, the weapons expert stumbled into the bathroom that was so kindly attached to his rooms and took a shower. He noticed his hair was getting a bit long as he finished washing it, so once he was done with his shower, he left his shirt off and pulled out his scissors. Quick, sure snips and in only two minutes, he had a high and tight cut that was still wild enough to not look like a freshly mowed lawn. Giving his reflection a nod, Dex brushed the hair off his shoulders and donned his shirt, reaching the kitchen just as Rick was putting a plate of toast on the table.

"Well well, look who's alive," Eagle teased. Dex shot him a glare before falling heavily into his chair.

"Ha ha, very funny Frank," he muttered, picking up a slice of toast and biting into it. "Um hum! I didn't know toast could taste this good. Thanks, Rick."

"No problem!" Rick said, setting down a mug of tea.

"Knock Knock!" came a voice from the ramp. Dex twitched, forcefully reminded of Gary's incessant jokes. He looked up just in time to see his sister come around the corner. Watching her carefully, Dex slowly sat up straighter, bracing himself. "Hey, Orange," the young woman said. The others all turned to look at Dex for his reaction.

"Kai..." Dex whispered, fear and pain quivering in that one, whispered, word. Sweat began to bead on his paler than normal forehead as he waited for his sister to say something, anything.

"Marley told me," Kai said, playing with her fingers. Dex sighed, bowing his head to hide his expression. That motion was telling enough. He was terrified.

"And?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"You're an idiot," Kai said decisively as she walked confidently toward him. Rick snorted, Eagle coughed into his fist, covering a smile, and Red declared,

"Been saying it fer years!"

"Why do you say that?" Dex asked, ignoring the others and keeping his head down. Kai remained silent as she plonked down across from Dex and stared at him for a moment. Finally, he raised his head, meeting her eyes.

"Did you really believe I'd hate you for what you've done? For what you've become?" she asked, sounding almost affronted that he'd even think such a thing, much less believe it. Dex swallowed, a muscle in his jaw twitching. His eyes didn't leave her face. "Dex... I'm proud of you, of what you've accomplished," Kai said at length. Dex's eyes widened.

"You... you're proud of me?" he asked softly. Kai nodded.

"You've become a hero, Dex. You even went into the caves, willingly. And more than once! You've dropped into the middle of active war zones and brought most, if not all, the men out alive," she said, stopping to shake her head. There was more, a lot more, but she didn't know if she could handle listing it all without tearing up. "The things you've accomplished are amazing. So yes, I'm proud of you Dex. I can tell you've even stopped smoking and at least cut back on the beer," she said. Dex flushed slightly and looked away. "Hey! Enough of that! I thought Marley had instilled some sort of confidence into you."

"She did. It's just... not even Marley's training to prepare me for that," Dex said softly, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Eagle was the only one to notice the wry smile and the faint glistening of tears hidden by that large, calloused hand. "I'm sorry, Kai." That had the other Reds blinking. What?

"Why?" Kai asked, unwittingly giving voice to the thought running through the minds of her brother's teammates.

"I couldn't keep you safe. And then I left. I wasn't there when you needed me," Dex said, face still buried in his hand. Kai smirked with a wry chuckle.

"You couldn't have stopped me, Dex. You've never really been able to stop me. Not when I've got my mind set on something. It's a family trait," she said. Dex dropped his hand with a wry chuckle of his own

"Did you know? You're the only one who can do this to me," he said, lips still twisted into a sad mockery of a smile, silent tears rolling down his melancholic face. Kai's mouth opened in a silent gasp. Even when they were children, Dex rarely cried and as they grew older, it was almost as if he lost the ability to cry.

"What did I do this time?" she asked softly, staring him in the eye. He gave another short wry laugh.

"Well, for one thing, you absolved me of the guilt that I felt. For another... I was so, so scared that you'd hate me. Fear me. I... I didn't want to lose you, Kai. You're the most important person in my life," he told her. Kai chuckled, shaking her head.

"We're both real, messed up, twisted pieces of work, aren't we?" she asked. Dex let out a real, booming laugh, leaning his chair back so far his team were concerned he'd fall. Kai wasn't worried though. She was grinning. Dex's chair fell back into place with a booming THUD! and he leaned forward, grinning his lopsided grin with bright eyes.

"Guess it's a family trait," he said, amusement heavy in his voice. Kai laughed as well, eyes bright with amusement.

"So, I'm guessing you've got quite a few stories," she said, grinning her own puckish grin.

"Oh-ho, like you wouldn't believe," her brother said with a chuckle, standing and motioning toward the couch. The siblings spent the rest of the day talking about old times, training mishaps, and happy memories. The Reds were quick to note the rather unsettling lack of happy family memories. Silently, they agreed they'd help remedy that. After all, they were all brothers-in-arms, what difference was a sister?

/*/

Marley, being the stalker that she was, had stuck around. Having heard what she needed, and being pleased with the resolution of the current Grif family drama, she withdrew when they moved to more comfortable seating. "Well, that actually went better than I was expecting," she said to herself. "To be honest, I was expecting more shouting and self recrimination." She returned to The Ghost and fiddled with a few things, then gave up distracting herself and called Flowdie. Or... tried to anyway. She frowned when the call wouldn't connect. That meant one of two things. One, they were in slip-space or two, their ship was damaged. How damaged was up for debate, but still. It was cause for concern. She shook her head and called Red, knowing that worrying would get her nowhere fast.

"What?" he said softly.

"Something's up. I'm heading out and I'm not sure when I'll be back. If your orders arrive before I do... I want you to stay here. An old acquaintance of mine will be dropping by and I want one of you ready for him. Plus, Kai isn't leaving so I'd like someone to watch out for her while I'm out. She'll be all alone if you don't stay. Oh yeah, and by going AWOL, you allow Dex to get promoted to Sargent," Marley rattled off, preparing to enter slip-space.

"Understood. That promotion's past due anyway," Red said. Marley froze, then blinked, then held a hand to her radio.

"I'm sorry, could you say that again?" she asked slowly. Surely she'd heard that wrong. This was Sarge, talking about Grif!

"I said, Dex is past due for a promotion," Red repeated. Marley sat down heavily, eyes wide in disbelief. She hadn't heard wrong. Red actually wanted to see Dex promoted.

"You, Red Sargent Sarge, think Private Dexter Grif deserves to be promoted?" she asked, still having trouble believing it. Red sighed and Marley idly wondered if he was shaking his head at her.

"Yes. And Rick Simmons while we're at it. Eagle... not so much. Kid's got some growing to do first," Red told his training officer. Marley shook her head again.

"Okay. Not expecting that. Um... right. I'm... just gonna... go. Now. Bye!" she said, then shut the connection. "Right. That happened," she said to herself, taking off for the last known co-ordinates of the one man who had never given up on her.

/*/

Back in Red Base, Red blinked, shrugged, and went to gather up the supplies he'd need to prepare a proper welcome for Marley's 'old acquaintance.' He chuckled as he rummaged in his storage unit. Oh yeah, they were going to have fun while everyone was out. "Rick... Red's worrying me," Eagle told his companion. Rick hummed in agreement.

"A chuckling Red is indeed cause for concern. Especially if he's rummaging in that closet," he said, noticing that the closet in question was what he'd come to call the Invention Closet of Doom, ICD for short.

"Should we warn the Grifs?" Eagle asked.

"Nah. Red's Invention of Doom shouldn't be ready until tomorrow at the earliest. Let them have their sibling bonding time," Rick said, waving the idea aside for the moment. "In the mean time, help me grab the soda. And the beer while we're at it. Sometimes, it's best just to wait it out in a nice, quite, re-enforced concert room with a five inch thick titanium door."

"I'll grab the incendiary rounds," Eagle said, deadpan, as he headed toward storage. Rick blinked and then turned around toward the retreating sniper.

"We have those?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I do," Eagle said, as casually as though he were talking about the weather.

"When did you get those?" Rick asked, voice going up the smallest of increments, as he hurried to follow the sniper.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Eagle remarked smugly. Rick was fairly certain he was smirking a smug, self-satisfied smirk.

"Yes, I very much would," Rick retorted calmly, stepping into his teammate's path, crossing his arms over his chest, and staring the sniper down.

"You want some, don't you?" Eagle stated.

"Heck yeah. And so will Dex. He's all about that zombie apocalypse thing," Rick confirmed with a nod and a wave. The sniper grinned.

"I'll see what I can do, but I might not get them to you guys before you have to leave for your new posts. Maybe I can forward them?" Eagle said, trailing off, tapping a finger against his chin as he wandered off in the general direction of storage. Rick shook his head and split off to go after those drinks. He really wasn't kidding about those preparations. Do not underestimate the terror of a Red Invention of Doom! Weather control device and ten megaton bomb anyone?

/*/

At the other end of the canyon, Tucker was playing ball with Junior when Church came running out screaming. Like, raw throat, arms waving, legs pumping, oh-my-gosh-it's-the-end-of-the-world, there's-a-giant-bug-in-the-sink, running and screaming. "Whoa, dude, what's up with you?" the slightly more sane Blue asked.

"It's Kai!" Church said, and those two words sent a sliver of ice through Tucker's heart.

"What happened?" he asked, voice quiet and deathly calm.

"She's not here! Dex is going to kill us all! Repent! Repent!" Church screamed, falling to his knees and holding his head in his hands. Tucker sighed, palming his helmet.

"Did you try hailing her?" he asked.

"YES! All I got was muffled voices!" the panicked 'ghost' responded. Tucker was fairly sure that, had Church still been human, he'd have been pulling at his hair. In any other situation, Tucker would have found it funny. As it was, this situation had a vengeful Dex raining death down on them if they couldn't find his sister. Not a funny set of circumstances.

"I'm gonna try again, just in case" Tucker said, and called Kai's helmet.

"And then, and then! Dex got his hand stuck!" her voice said, though it was muffled and distorted, as though he was getting the audio from her external mics.

"KAI! I thought we agreed never to speak of that again!" Dex's voice said. Was he... sulky?! Wow. That was a new tone for him.

"Oh come on! That's, like, three-fourths of our childhood!" Kai retorted, sounding both perky and pouty. How was that possible?

"Why do you think I never talked about my past?" Dex said, most likely crossing his arms.

"You're such a kid," Kai said, clearly amused, though she tried to sound mocking.

"Yeah... so?" Dex retorted, and Tucker disconnected.

"She's fine," he deadpanned.

"You sure?" Church asked, fretting. Like, seriously fretting. Hand wringing, nervous glances, short breath, the whole nine yards.

"Yeah dude. She's good," Tucker said, going back to playing with Junior. "Why don't you go... make sure Caboose isn't ordering things off the TV again?"

"You're right. We should get rid of the phone," Church said, heading back inside.

"We have radios built into our helmets!" Tucker reminded him.

"I'll cancel the long distance plan!" Church shot back, still heading inside.

/*/

The next day, relocation orders came and there was much weeping and gnashing of teeth. "Finally! I'm getting out of here!" Dex yelled, supporting the weeping Rick. Eagle snorted, shaking his head.

"Yeah, celebrate while you can. It won't be long before The Curse hits and something crazy starts happening basically every five minutes," he said. Dex turned a baleful look on the sniper while Rick fell to the floor, weeping even more heavily, though now for a different reason.

"Had to rain on our parade, didn't you?" Dex asked the unrepentant sniper.

"Yup. And while you guys get to go to an actual base, I'm getting sent to a bunker. A bunker! At least Marley can come and get me out, but still!" Eagle protested.

"And since I'm staying here, Dex gets a promotion straight to Sargent," Red revealed, walking past with the holy grail of coffee lovers. The Jumbo Coffee.

"Hey, where'd you get the coffee?" Dex asked, completely ignoring the rather anti-climatic declaration of his promotion and trailing after his not-really-CO in a quest for the Jumbo Coffee. Rick and Eagle turned to each other and blinked twice.

"Were they always like this?" Eagle asked, jerking his head back toward where Red and Dex had vanished. Rick shook his head.

"No. Sarge used to try to kill Grif at least once a day. Barring that, he'd try to completely demoralized the guy." Eagle stared at Rick in shock. Rick, for his part, nodded with a nostalgic sigh. "Good times."

"... You're insane," the sniper finally got out. The IT geek turned to him with a crocked grin, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"All the best people are, Rookie. All the best people are," he said before vanishing into the base to pack his things.

"Keep yer greasy hands off my coffee Private!" Red shouted from somewhere behind Eagle.

"My hands aren't greasy. They're well moisturized," Dex countered. "Now, where did you get the Jumbo Coffee?"

"Grif!" Red growled, obviously gnashing his teeth.

"Time to go." Eagle watched as Dex swiftly made his way out of the base, carefully cradling a mug of coffee so large, it wouldn't have been remiss to call it a tankard as he did so. Red was hot on his heels, brandishing his shotgun and shouting insults. Eagle decided, it would be a good idea to retreat to his room and double check his pack. *BOOM! 'CAREFUL! You nearly hit my coffee!' 'It's my coffee, Dirtbag!' * Ye~ah... he was sure there was something he'd forgotten to pack.

/*/

At the other end of the canyon, Blue Base had also received relocation orders."No, Caboose. You can't see my orders," Church said for the millionth time.

"But! But! But how will I send you letters? And care packages? I won't know where you are!" Caboose protested, bouncing around his leader and, so he claimed, best friend like some sort of giant, blue, puppy with an assault rifle and a history of team killing. Just... just think about that for a moment. Puppy Commando, Caboose Edition. Terrifying, isn't it?

"That's the point, Caboose," the cobalt soldier said, snapping his trunk shut, oblivious to the rambling narrator envisioning a Puppy Commando!Caboose and implanting the idea into whoever actually bothered to read about a bunch of crazy lucky idiots stuck in a box canyon in the middle of nowhere. Or, a bunch of crazy, lucky, idiots. Both versions are true, but it's the semantics that's different. Is it the seman...

"Dude, why do you even have a trunk? I got dropped off with nothing but my armor and a single duffel!" Tucker remarked, staring at the quite frankly overly large piece of luggage. Darn Tucker. He interrupted my needless, arbitrary musings. Bad Tucker, bad!

"You know what they say: if it worth doing, it's worth over doing," Church said, sitting on his trunk and holding up a single finger in the classical instructor pose.

"I don't think that's..." Tucker began, brow furrowed as he attempted to process what Church was doing.

"Shut up. Of course it is," Church said, cutting Tucker off with a wave.

"Yes. That is it," Caboose said, reading Church's orders. "Wait. What is what?" the simple soldier asked, looking up from said orders. After having committed them to memory. Seriously, for as damaged as his mind no doubt was from having a ticked off A.I couple declare open season on a third A.I inside his head, Caboose had an amazing memory.

"You're a fudging idiot, ya know that Caboose?" Tucker asked as Church yelped and snatched his orders back from Caboose. How had the idiot even gotten them in the first place? Church was sure he'd packed those already!

"We have fudge? Why did no-one tell me we had fudge!? I demand fudge," Caboose said, looking around for fudge. Tucker sighed, palming his helmet.

"I'm surrounded by stupid," he lamented while walking out to do his own packing.

"Hey, Church?" Kai called from their kitchen where the mail was still laid out on the counter. Tucker paused to listen in.

"What?" Church answered.

"Did you happen to see if there was anything for me?" Kai asked. "Like... relocation orders?" The men of blue Team froze, then looked toward the door.

"You uh... you don't see any?" Church called back.

"No." Tucker and Church exchanged a look.

"What now?" they asked.

"Hey! Sorry, forgot to tell you guys. Kai's staying in the canyon for a while. She uh, she isn't in Freelancer's records at the moment, so they don't know she's there. But don't worry, Red's staying here with her, then someone from Command's going to come pick her up," Marley told the two 'sane' members of Blue Team via the radio before she made the jump to slip-space.

"Oh yeah! You're staying here until Command comes and picks you up. But don't worry, Red's staying as well," Church yelled back to Kai.

"Oh. Okay!" she said, easily accepting what her leader told her. Church and Tucker both let out simultaneous sighs of relief. Neither wanted to deal with a sad Kai.

/*/

Muffled voices. Tension. The rumble of engines. The sterile smell of the infirmary. "York, you're awake." A voice? Ow~! He'd heard the saying, 'it hurts to think,' but he'd never thought it was true. Ah! Turned out it was.

"D... what happened?" York moaned, too tired to raise a hand to his aching forehead. Oh, sweet, nutty fudge, it hurt to talk! What happened?

"Well well well, looks like somebody's determined to live to snark another day." Who was that? The voice... it was familiar but... Hey. Thinking didn't hurt as much anymore. Small mercies.

"Who... ?" York whispered, throat dry and scratchy. Seriously, what happened? Last thing he remembered was... Wyoming! He'd shot him! And then D knocked him out! But what... ?

"Call me Marley," the woman said, bringing a straw to his lips. "Don't try to get up, you've been out for a while."

"How long is a while?" York asked, not bothering trying to pry his heavy eyelids apart. The woman, Marley, hummed.

"About... three weeks? Give or take?" she said, and York could just imagine her rocking back and forth in deliberation. His eyes flew open, one still legally blind.

"Three weeks?!" he exclaimed, turning to her. The woman nodded, short auburn hair bouncing slightly. She wasn't a young woman, easily in her mid to late forties, but she was still a beautiful lady.

"Yes, Agent York. By now, news has likely been spread that you're dead. But don't worry, this actually works in our favor," she told him.

"How?" he asked and oh, how many, many layers there was to that question. His mind was too sluggish to list them all out, but he knew they were there. Contrary to what some would have you believe, Agent New York was not an idiot. She turned to him with a grin.

"You can focus on your recovery without worrying about the UNSC or Freelancer coming after you for what ever reason they cook up. Also... there's an old saying. You don't know what you have until it's gone," she told him. "If I'm right, there's every chance Carolina's going to hear about your death. And then... Well, there's a chance she'll hear some of your journal entries. Who knows? Maybe this is just what you needed for her to come around." York sighed, looking down at his hands.

"So you're going to emotionally manipulate her?" he asked. She shrugged.

"Honestly hadn't crossed my mind, York. I just wanted to give you a real chance at life, that's all. If I hadn't given Tex Orange's contact information, you'd really be dead," Marley said, putting the cup back on the counter. York gaped at her.

"You mean you're the reason I'm alive?" he asked.

"No. Yes. Sort of," Marley floundered. "Look, I trained Orange. I'm the reason Tex was able to call him. He's the one who stabilized you and called me and then beat the every loving stuffing out of Wyoming on your behalf. Take from that what you will," she finished. York sighed.

"Can I get some painkiller? My head's pounding," he said. Marley chuckled and handed him the pills.

"Sure thing champ, but I'm starting you on physical therapy tomorrow."

"Understood, Doc."

"Don't call me Doc. Reminds me of this completely incompetent medic that gave the entire medical field a bad name," Marley snapped. York held up his hands in defeat and went back to sleep. Marley smiled and tugged his blanket a little higher. "Carolina's a lucky gal, York. She just doesn't see it yet." She left him sleeping comfortably and sighed. The last coordinates she had for Flowdie turned out to be scrap. Literally. With that, she decided to head toward Outpost 17, Valhalla. "I just hope I'm not too late," she muttered, fretting about her loveable idiot.

/?/

A/N 2: So... yeah. The relocation orders come in, Caboose wants fudge, and York's awake! Sort of. I'll try to get him a part in the next chapter. Maybe North as well. Oh! Definitely need to get some Delta in. Let me know what you want to see, what questions you would like answered, and feel free to submit scenario prompts. I'll be sure to credit them to you... Man that was awkward phrasing. Oh well!

Tchuss!

Regenengel3

A/N 3: Mild edits. I know Wyoming betrayed Marley in the last chapter but... Motivational Poster!Flowdie seems to have swayed him and the scene fit too well with the flow of the story. I couldn't take it out. Also, spelling. 8/25/16