WARNING: RvB: Reconstruction spoiler alert! If you have not watched all or any of the new RvB series, then get your ass over to Roosterteeth now and watch them. They are fantastically brilliant, and one thousand times better than the Blood Gulch Chronicles, which shows RT did the impossible by bettering themselves. Seriously, watch it.

Now.

No, don't look at the screen reading my meaningless words, go watch them.

All chapters after, and including, this one will contain spoilers for Reconstruction, so you really should watch it now so you don't ruin it for yourself later.

Seriously.

You're still reading this?

Don't make me set Massachusetts on you.

Go watch it.

NOW!

Memories, Torture, and Swimming Pools

The Mongoose sped across the great, barren landscape, flying up dust from its wheels as it went. The rider, Agent Massachusetts, had been driving it silently for hours on end, not stopping to rest, to think - only drive.

"Massa," her A.I. said, popping up on the vehicle's interface, her expression one of concern and authority, "you've been driving for eight hours straight. Get some rest."

Massachusetts ignored her and stepped down harder on the pedal instead. Sigma sighed and then promptly cut out the power for the Mongoose. The Freelancer turned sharply in surprise and fell of the vehicle, rolling with speed along the dry and dirty floor.

"Get some rest," Sigma ordered, her voice sharp. Massachusetts stood up, shaking her head.

"Why the hell should I listen to you?" she spat, moving over to the Mongoose and trying to jumpstart it again.

"Because, as a computer, I know best!"

"No, you think you know best. You only consider the best possible outcome for us, not for the people who need it the most."

"The Delta A.I. was in need. He was destroyed because you refuse to remove his chip from York's armour in time!"

"York was dying; he needed medication to numb the pain, and Delta wanted to stay. He's not destroyed. The armour shuts his coding down and preserves him, because it's cheaper to recover than it is to eradicate. You're the one who infiltrated Command for that bet we had last month. You found the file. You're the one who read it out to me."

"But something else could get him!"

"Like what?"

"The Meta. He'll find that body and take all the implants, including the A.I."

"I don't care. York's… dead. He won't miss them. And if we took the A.I., then the Meta will only have more of a reason to hunt us down. A.I. are nothing but trouble."

Massachusetts fell silent, and Sigma scowled at her host's words as the Mongoose came back online. Then she picked up a signal on her scanner.

"Incoming life form, Massa. I don't know whether they are hostile or not…."

Massachusetts nodded and took the gravity hammer off her back, holding it aloft warily. A warthog began to materialise in the distance, causing the Freelancer to tighten her grip in panic.

"…Their tag is coming up as 'WASHINGTON'… I think it's David," Sigma said quietly, bringing up the details on the visor. Massachusetts let out a slight breath of relief, but remained on her guard. Everyone was aware that his A.I., Epsilon, had driven him insane. For all she knew, Washington could be working with Command, bringing rogue Freelancers back to base to have their A.I. removed. The Warthog stopped short of Massachusetts, and Washington got out, striding towards them edgily, his battle rifle raised and pointed at Massachusetts' chest.

"Stand down, Wash," Massachusetts said in bored tones. Washington looked at her for a moment, and then slowly lowered his weapon.

"Massachusetts?" he asked.

"The one and only."

"There's a Recovery Beacon sounded not far in the opposite direction you were travelling. Do you have any to do with it? I wouldn't be surprised," Washington replied, adding the snide comment slyly at the end. It was obvious he thought she would shrug it off, but instead it had the opposite effect. She thought about closing York's eyes for the last time, slipping his helmet back on to keep his soldier's dignity, and felt her temper rise out of control.

"Wash, move!" Sigma shouted to him, just as Massachusetts lashed out with the hammer. He dove out of the way so that the hammer went straight over his head, and then rolled up. In one swift movement, he disarmed his attacker from behind. He tossed it far back, watching with shock as it cracked and deformed the earth it touched, buckling it out of shape. This distraction allowed Massachusetts to hit him round the back of the head with her shotgun, nearly knocking him out. Had she not rushed her attack, she could have easily killed him. Washington grunted in surprise, turning and letting out a blast from his battle rifle as he fell, which missed completely. Realising the mistake could cost him his life, he hooked his leg behind Massachusetts', bringing her to the ground, and then quickly kneeling over her, putting his gun to her forehead. As he did, though, he felt her shotgun ram into his throat, just beneath his chin, and he froze.

"Looks like this is a stalemate," Massachusetts said calmly. "If one of us pulls the trigger, the other's armour will lock down, activating the other trigger though automatic clenched fists."

"Move your gun away," Washington said with strained tones, the weapon that was digging into his neck hindering his speech.

"Not until you move yours. I don't trust you."

"Neither do I."

"Fine. I'll leave this to Sig. Sig, deactivate our gun mechanisms so we can move away from each other."

There was a click, and Massachusetts moved her gun away. There was a pause, and then Washington slowly stood up.

"Any particular reason why you attacked me?" he asked, his voice full of contempt. Massachusetts remained silent, so Sigma answered for her.

"York is the Freelancer in trouble. He's dead," Sigma said bluntly, causing Massachusetts to flinch.

"I see."

There was an awkward silence.

"What's to stop me from handing you over to Command right now?" Washington tested suddenly, folding his arms.

"Well, David-" Massachusetts began, but was interrupted.

"Don't call me that."

"Why not, David? That's your name, isn't it?"

"Alright, how about I call you by your real name, E-?"

"Finish that sentence and I'll put a bullet in your head," Massachusetts growled, the safety clicking free of her weapon as she pointed it at him. Washington did likewise, but then realised his were still locked up.

"You have got to be kidding me," he groaned, now fully aware of the dangerous position he was in. Massachusetts ignored him.

"Fine, no names," she said bluntly, paranoid that Command could hear the conversation, "but if you even think of handing me over, do you know what will happen?"

"Enlighten me," Washington replied sarcastically.

"Epsilon ruined you. I'm surprised you're even working for Command anymore. But if you turn me in, I'll send Sigma into your head and make your life hell."

Washington flinched and took a step back.

"Sigma isn't like Omega," he said desperately. "She can't move from body to body-"

"-permanently," Massachusetts finished for him. "She can move from body to body, but she can't stay there like Omega can. Eventually she has to return to her source, the one in my armour, to rest. However, that is more than enough time to seriously fuck things up in your head. So, I strongly suggest you reconsider your actions, Washington."

Washington hadn't allowed Command to fit him with another A.I. since Epsilon, and with good reason. The A.I. had gone insane, unravelling itself in Washington's head, taking him with it. There were things he learnt from those terrible moments; horrific things that Command kept secret from not only their own staff, but also the rest of the world. He knew if he had a new A.I., it could find out; Command would find out, and then he would be subsequently removed from existence. However, Massachusetts couldn't know this, and he decided it was a bluff.

"You're lying," he said, challenging her. Massachusetts smirked hollowly from behind her helmet.

"Give him a taster, Sig," she said. Sigma nodded, and then leapt from the armour, an almost invisible purple blur in the air, before disappearing completely. Washington froze.

"Don't do it, Massachusetts," he said, his voice beginning to adopt an edge of panic, holding his hand out as if to ward her off. He tried talking to Sigma. "Program, abort previous command. Respond!"

"She only listens to me… and usually ignores me as well."

Washington looked up at Massachusetts, his breathing heavy. Then he jolted as the A.I. entered his head, falling to his knees and crying out in agony. The program was in his head, sifting through his memories, discovering the truth. Washington clutched the dirt off the ground in his fist, swaying unsteadily on all fours. He gritted his teeth, trying not to show weakness to the other Freelancer. His shoulder shook as the A.I. picked his thoughts merrily; sweat dripping inside his helmet, his ability to speak gone. Then suddenly Sigma hit the thought he was trying to hide the most… the memories that had almost destroyed him.

The memories of Epsilon.

Light, pain, torture-

Memory-

Memories-

Washington let out a scream of pain and fell backwards, hitting the floor and writhing uncontrollably.

Lies, deceit-

Creativity.

An-

His muscles spasmed, the flickering images of a crumbling mind shattering his, the torture of a thousand hells burning down on his. It ruined the A.I.; split them, divided them, dragged them apart.

Anger, hate, sadness, hurt—

Hurt.

Hur- hurt—Lo-

Love.

As quick as it had arrived, the terrors of the past went, and Washington's body went into a state of numbness. He found himself unable to move at all. Sigma was gone.

Massachusetts could only stare in shock. She hadn't expected anything like that: such violence and pain. She looked down at Sigma, who was fixated on Washington. Her colour had darkened considerably, and she looked… older. Like the things she had seen in Washington's mind had changed her forever. She looked at the Freelancer lying still on the ground, the only sign of life from him being his rising and falling chest as he breathed unsteadily. Making her mind up, she went over to help him.

"Get back," he hissed as she approached, shakily standing up and moving to the Warthog. Massachusetts and Sigma watched him go, uncertain whether he was about to keel over or not. As he climbed into the Warthog, he turned to them.

"Tex taught you well," he said bitterly.

"Remember, Wash," Massachusetts called out to him, "you say anything… I will find you."

There was a long silence, in which Washington merely stared at the steering wheel of his vehicle.

"I know," he muttered finally to himself, and then put his foot down on the pedal. Dirt sprayed up from the wheels as he drove away into the distance.

Then he was gone.

"What did you find in there?" Massachusetts asked Sigma.

"Some things are best left unsaid," Sigma replied quietly, and refused to speak any more on the subject.

Washington put his head against the wheel as he gunned across the dry, dusty plains. His mind still ached, his heart still fluttering in terror from having to relive the failure of Epsilon. Then he noticed a new file in the manually-run electronics of his armour. He accessed it and listened, recognising it as the voice as Sigma.

"Agent Washington, this is A.I. Sigma. I saw the thoughts in your head, the memories, and I think I finally understand. I know what I am now; I know what I must do. I'm not whole; I'm broken. I'm part of a larger structure, and I've been oblivious to it all this time. I won't be sharing the things I uncovered in the vaults of your mind with Agent Massachusetts; it does not concern her. Relax, because everything will be all right. You're safe. This file will delete itself under my coding once listened to, so you have no worries of it being discovered. Good luck, Washington."

There was a bleep, and the file disappeared completely. Well, at least she was honest about one thing. Would she be honest with the other thing though; keep her silence?

He guessed he would just have to wait.

The mansion of Vernon Larson was elaborate, to say the least. It seemed as if it had been decorated to perfection, but then had extra unnecessary bits added on top. Massachusetts wrinkled her nose in distaste and then approached the front doors of the target's house. Usually Sigma would help her work out a creative and over-the-top plan, quite often with hilarious results. However, she had been strangely quiet since they had confronted Washington, so Massachusetts had decided to just run in and blast everything to pieces. She needed something to hit, to take away the bottled up feelings she had been hiding after they found York.

"Do you have an appointment with Mr. Larso-" one of the guards began. Massachusetts cut him off by firing her shotgun in his face. As he fell to the floor, his companion turned to shoot her, but she was too quick, hitting him across the face with gun, knocking him out.

"Crack open the door, Sig."

There was a click, and Massachusetts kicked the now unlocked door down and off its hinges before striding into the mansion. Larson's face appeared on a huge screen above her, a scowl on his face.

"So, Massachusetts, you choose to betray me?" he said, clearly unhappy with the current predicament. "So be it. Don't expect to get out of here alive."

The screen flickered off, and doors all around the hallway burst open, men armed with guns flooding through. As some moved beneath it, Massachusetts threw a plasma grenade so that it stuck fast on the screen supports. It exploded, shaking the structure violently, and the whole thing came crashing down, along with sections of the ceiling, onto the guards. Massachusetts listened to the crunch, barely audible above the tremendous noise of the falling rubble, and then poked her head out from behind a marble pillar. There were a few left alive, so she took the hammer off her back and charged. Screams and guts flew about the room, bouncing off the walls, and Massachusetts soon found her black armour dowsed with gooey red, tendrils of organs and shattered bone shards dripping off her. She looked about at the destruction caused by her, feeling comforted by the death and power she wielded in her hands. Then she turned and made her way up the stairs, which had now been damaged by the collapsed ceiling. Each step left blooded prints on the cream carpet.

Suddenly through the front door came more guards, several of them holding rocket launchers.

"Well, shit," Massachusetts said, before jumping off the stairs as a rocket went past, taking down a large section of the wall behind her, nearly crushing her.

"Go towards the North part of the building. The swimming pool there has lots of cover," Sigma said quickly, bringing up the map for her to see. Massachusetts nodded and sprinted down the twisted corridors, meaning her pursuers would not have a clear shot her.

"There's the pool, up ahead. Get to cover!" the A.I. said urgently in the Freelancer's head. She nodded, turning to the nearest pillar, but then suddenly found she was flying through the air as a rocket hit the ground behind her, the impact lifting her off her feet.

"Shhhhiiiit!" Massachusetts yelled as she did a less than graceful flip high into the air, heading straight for the pool. If she hit the water, she would sink like a rock, and there would be no way for her to get out. She'd have to wait until the emergency oxygen supply in her watertight suit ran out, before drowning. Faster than thought, she grabbed the high-tech item she had stolen from a military base a few months ago off her belt, and threw it hard at the water. It opened out into a gravity lift and sent her hurling up to a concealed balcony above the pool. She landed hard, the wind knocked out of her, and then slowly staggered to her feet. The guards knew she was out of their reach, and so stood still, waiting for a chance to kill her. Massachusetts had other ideas though. Picking a regular grenade off her belt, she threw it so that it bounced off the wall and landed at the feet of the guards. Instantly they dove out of the way, one of them landing on the gravity lift that was slowly sinking in the water. He was propelled through the air, and landed right in front of Massachusetts. She grinned behind her visor, and then shot him in the head, taking his rocket launcher, before throwing him over the balcony into the pool. She then pointed the launcher at the guards.

"Let's see how you like it, cockbites," she muttered, pulling the trigger. The blast landed in the middle of them, blowing them all to pieces. Arms and legs rained down around the Freelancer, turning the calm blue of the water below an ugly red. Bits of ceiling and wall were crumbling loose as Massachusetts vaulted down from the balcony, landing at the water's edge.

"Can you not do just one mission without a result of destruction similar to the effects of ten nuclear warheads?" Sigma grumbled, already knowing the answer.

"Nope," Massachusetts said bluntly, "I enjoy my work. Now, let's go get our target."

Massachusetts kicked down the door to the location of the sole indication of life on her scanner.

"Larson, I know you're in here. We'll get this over with quickly and I'll promise not to make it painful."

"You don't really want to do this, Massachusetts. I know you don't. It's Downing, isn't it? He put you up to this! He's rotten, Massachusetts, rotten to the core!"

"Aren't we all?" the Freelancer said simply, following the scanner, pinpointing his exact position.

"I know you won't go through with this… I've been loyal to you, always paid what I owed. Now, I'm going to step out, and when I do, we're going to talk this over civilly."

Larson moved from his hiding place, and Massachusetts raised the pistol she had taken from the body of a dead guard. There was a crack, and Larson keeled over, a bullet hole in his forehead.

"Scan his files, Sig," Massachusetts ordered, stepping over Larson's body and opening his desk. "See where he keeps that sword."

A panel in the wall behind Massachusetts popped open as soon as she spoke, and she smiled to herself.

"Way ahead of you, Massa," Sigma replied, grinning.

"OK, now to deliver the good news to Mr. Downing," Massachusetts said, taking the object out of its hideaway. "A sword and a dead body. Not a bad day's work, huh?"

Author's notes: For those who wish to know, the Meta is a character from 'RvB: Recovery One' and 'RvB: Reconstruction'. I suggest you watch the Reconstruction series before you read anymore of this story, as spoilers will occur.