I manage to keep it together until we find a new base to set up in. It's longer than I expected. Every moment I felt like I would crash; just collapse on the ground and surrender. Still, I didn't. I held myself together until danger had passed. Once it's gone, though, once we land and secure the new facility, I'm gone.
All I can see is Silicon's scared eyes. All I can hear is the small yell when the bullet hits him. All I can smell is blood. All I can taste is my own fear, choking in the back of my throat. All I can feel is the weight of a small body in my arms.
I don't cry. I don't scream. I simply sit in the dark, trying to forget.
It's been three days, and Yttri still hasn't gotten the new workroom set up to her liking. It shouldn't be hard, really. Her large collection of spare parts burned along with the base, so she doesn't have much to organize. Still, she hasn't figured it out yet.
Simmons suspects this is mostly due to the fact that she hasn't actually done any of the organizing. Yttri's been focused on a project, hunched over a blue print she won't let him see. The only way he knows she isn't happy with the room's layout is that she glances up from her work every few hours and tells him to move stuff around. She's never specific with these instructions. Simmons has tried every possible, logical placement for every tool and part at least twice, and still no success.
The cyborge sighs as he moves a rather heavy box of parts for the third time. He strains, putting most of the weight on his mechanical arm, as he tries to get the box onto the shelf above his head. Just as the box slides into place, he feels hands on his sides. He makes a rather undignified squeaking sound and spins around to see Yttri. The curly haired woman is standing inches away from him with an almost dead look in her eyes.
"Yttri," Simmons says nervously, not sure of what she wants. Without warning, she wraps her arms around his torso, pressing her face to his chest.
"It's all gone," she whispers. There's no inflection to her voice, no emotion aside from mild shock.
Simmons hesitantly places his hands on her back. "It'll be okay," he says unconvincingly.
"That was our home," Yttri says a little louder.
"You'll make a new home," Simmons says, trying to comfort her. "Everything will be fine."
"Lico won't." The words are so soft, so quiet, that Simmons almost doesn't hear them. Still they feel like a knife in his chest.
"I'm sorry," Simmons says. His arms tighten around Yttri when she starts to cry. "I'm sorry. We'll get through this. It'll be okay." He repeats the words over and over as he holds the weeping mechanic.
Tucker stares down four identical hallways. He has absolutely no idea where he is or how to get where he wants to be. This place is built like a maze. Part of him starts to miss the old base back at Blood Gulch. Sure, that canyon had sucked, but at least the base had been simple.
And people didn't die in Blood Gulch. The thought enters his head without his permission and he quickly pushes it aside. He doesn't want to think about that right now. Those kids had reminded him of Junior from day one. He can't bear to think about how one of them had died.
Tucker picks a direction at random. He doesn't care where he's going anymore. He just wants to be moving. Anything to keep his mind occupied.
This isn't the first time he's lost someone. Well, Church getting shot by the tank didn't really count, since he came back as a ghost and all, but that's not the only example. Tucker remembers one guy, a real giant of a sangheli, who was assigned as his body guard during one of his first diplomatic missions. During the mission, some religious nut who still believed in the 'great journey' had tried to kill Tucker, claiming the human was some sort of demon. Tucker's body guard had stepped in the way, killing the attacker before succumbing to three plasma wounds to the chest. Tucker still wishes he'd learned the guy's name.
Still, this feels different to the dark skinned man. Everyone else he knew who'd died had been soldiers, trained to fight and expecting to die in battle some day. None of them had been kids. Especially not little boys with blue tints in their hair who tried to steal his sword and roped him into games of zero-gravity hide and seek. Tucker can't help but think that people like that aren't supposed to die.
Partway down the hall he hears crying. He wants to ignore it. He's never really known what to do around people who are crying. He doesn't know how to deal with it. He should just keep walking and pretend he didn't hear anything. Instead he turns around and tries to locate the source of the sound. There's a door a few feet away that he opens slowly, peeking inside.
The room is empty, except for Tinu. She's sitting in the corner, knees pulled up to her chest with her arms draped across them, face hidden in her elbows. Tucker stands awkwardly in the door for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. He's never seen someone cry like this before. It's not the pretty cry like you see in movies. This is the gut wrenching, sniffling, swollen eyed kind of crying that comes from someone who's so deep in sorrow they don't care what anyone thinks.
"Tinu?" he asks quietly, hoping to get her attention.
The blonde looks up with a sharp intake of breath, wiping her eyes. "T-tucker," she says, sniffling. "What are you doing here?"
"Got lost," he says with a shrug. "I… heard you crying. Are you alright?"
Tinu starts to nod, then quickly shakes her head. "No," she squeaks, hiding her face again. The room is filled once again with the sound of choking sobs.
Tucker takes a few more steps into the room. "Hey, it's, uh, it's okay," he says.
"He was just a little boy," Tinu cries, shaking her head.
Tucker sighs and sits next to her. "Yeah, I know," he says wearily. "It's not fair."
"He was just-," Tinu tries to speak before devolving into sobs again.
Tucker shifts nervously for a moment before reaching an arm across her shoulders. Tinu stiffens instantly and begins to lift her hands to push him away. "This is a purely platonic, friend-comforting-friend kind of hug," he assures her. He wiggles his hand where it rests on her shoulder, emphasizing its location. "See? Hand's on your shoulder and it won't go anywhere else, I promise."
Tinu seems to accept the explanation and relaxes into the hug, still crying. A second later she twists toward Tucker and wraps her arms around him, crying harder. He returns the hug, trying his best to keep his hands from going where they shouldn't. It isn't as hard as he'd expect. It's been difficult, trying keep up his usual jokes and attitude for the last few days.
"I know," Tucker says again. "It's not fair. But you'll get through this."
Caboose crouches in a chair. It's a funny sight, really, a man his size perching almost like a bird on the edge of the seat. Donut fights the urge to laugh as he watches the blue soldier. Caboose's eyes are fixed firmly on a plexiglass case, and the two cats inside.
"You're not going to pet them, are you?" he asks. The last thing he wants is to give Rhodium and Doc more work by letting Caboose get injured.
"Oh, hi Lieutenant Cupcake," Caboose says, glancing over his shoulder. The surprisingly tall soldier shakes his head. "Mango and Peppermint were scared," he says, tone indicating that this makes so much sense Donut should have already known. "They thought if they fell asleep, someone who looks like them but doesn't sound like them and isn't nice like them might come and try to hurt them, so I decided to keep them company."
Donut smiles sympathetically at his former enemy. "I see," he says kindly. "Well, that's very nice of you, Caboose."
Caboose nods. "Silver used to sit with them when they were scared, but I don't think she wants to do that anymore." He sounds like he's on the verge of tears.
"Silver's been going through a lot lately," Donut tries to explain. "I'm sure she'll be ready to hang out again soon."
"She's really sad," Caboose observes.
"We all are," Donut agrees. He stands there for a while longer, staring at the strange cats in their cage. He wants to go to bed. It's really late, and with how hectic it's been the last few days he's missed out on a lot of beauty sleep. But he doesn't want to leave Caboose alone, not when the other soldier so obviously needs company. Instead he sits beside the other soldier and shines a light into the cats' box for them to chase and listens to Caboose's ramblings about coloring books and spider webs, and how they're somehow connected.
Eventually, Caboose starts to doze off, slumping over in his chair. Donut sighs and starts dragging him to his feet. Caboose mumbles a wordless complaint. "It's time for you to sleep," Donut says with a yawn, walking Caboose down the hall toward the new barracks. When they finally reach their destination, Donut plops the younger man down onto his bed and turns to leave.
"Mr. Biscuit?" Caboose whispers loudly, causing the blonde to conceal a sigh as he turns back around.
"Yeah, Caboose?" he asks sleepily.
Caboose looks at him guiltily and speaks as though he has a great confession. "I wasn't really talking about Mango and Peppermint earlier," he says.
Donut nods. "I know, buddy."
"You're a good friend," Caboose yawns, eyes drifting closed. "Just like Church."
"Thanks," Donut whispers. He's not sure how he feels about being compared to Church, but he appreciates the sentiment.
"I miss Church," Caboose mumbles before finally falling asleep.
"Silver," Rho whispers apprehensively. I don't wake up. I've already been awake for hours, hiding from nightmares. I do open my eyes and sit up though. Rho's avatar hovers over the table beside my bed, looking nervous and a little embarrassed. "I wanted to apologize for earlier…" Rho continues.
I glare down at the AI. "How did you get in the computers?" I ask sternly, cutting her off.
"Oh, um, Yttri plugged me in," she says a little sheepishly. "She wanted to get the new base's security up and running. She felt it was worth the risk, you know, considering…" She trails off, not wanting to mention what happened at the last base.
"Is that safe?" I ask. Normally I wouldn't be so blunt, but part of me is still angry with Rho. I don't know if I can trust her anymore.
"I'm in control," she says defensively. "I won't snap like that again."
I wish I could believe her. I really do. I just can't shake the memory of her fear and anger, and how she'd used it to control me.
"Anyway," Rho continues, "I only have partial access, so there shouldn't be any problems."
I hum unconvincedly.
"Silver, I swear, that won't happen again," Rho says almost pleadingly. "I've been working with the third personality. She's integrated now; she can't run off on her own like that. We're under control." She disappears from the table to project herself hovering over my lap, looking me in the eye. "I won't let that happen again, I promise. I won't put this family in danger."
I sigh, looking at her. I don't like not being able to trust her. She's my best friend. She knows my thoughts better than I do. I want to trust her, but I need to be cautious about it.
"You understand I can't let you go on missions for a while," I say, smile creeping onto my lips.
"That seems fair," Rho answers. I'm not sure if she has a face under her holographic helmet, but if she does, I'm sure she's smiling.
"And we'll need to take the time to have a long talk about this."
"Understood," Rho says, nodding.
"During which you will explain exactly what the hell happened."
"I will," Rho says. "I promise. I'll explain everything."
I lean back in the bed, half propped up by pillows, and let my eyes drift closed tiredly. "Well," I say though a yawn, "get started talking."
Five minutes later I'm sitting up again, legs crossed under me and palms pressed into the mattress, fully alert. "So, this third personality was Alpha's betrayal?" I ask.
Rho nods, sitting on my shoulder and kicking her legs absentmindedly. "When she heard that Boron had betrayed us, she snapped. All she could think of was how the Director had betrayed Alpha, and what he'd done to us after. She was afraid something like that would happen again. In her mind, the only way to stop it was to kill Boron before he had the chance to hurt us."
"And controlling me?" I ask. "How did that factor into her plan?"
"I… don't think she planned that," Rho says slowly. "She panicked. She was just… acting, without thinking. She didn't even realize she'd taken control until you removed us and we had a chance to explain it to her."
"You keep saying 'her'," I point out. "Isn't she a part of you?"
"That's kind of weird to think about," Rho says offhandedly. "When I want to talk about one part of me, I tend to refer to it as its own person. It makes it easier to deal with the whole 'multiple personalities' thing."
I shrug, not really sure what to say to that. "You're sure it's under control?" I ask again.
"Yes," Rho says fervently.
"Good," I say. "Then keep an eye on the base for a few hours. I'm gonna try to get some sleep."