So… I watched the recent episode of Red vs Blue. It was fucked up; that's all I can say. The part with Locus, I mean. Well… here's the next chapter.
Disclaimer: I own none of these guys. Nada.
Tucker let out a sigh as he leaned against the rock. God, he was so fucking bored.
Well, it was pretty boring back at Blood Gulch back then (he refuses to believe that they did time traveled to the future) but…right now, this takes the cake. A lot of things happened pretty fast – with O'Malley back and possessing Doc, kidnapping the Red's robot, and then they got here. That would have been fine if it wasn't for one thing:
Church isn't with them.
Sure, the guy is a huge asshole, but…at least he was someone coherent that he can talk to. He could have talked to Caboose, but… well, sometimes that guy is just dumb. And there was the fact that he was possessed by O'Malley for a while. Erica is a good conversationalist, but they sometimes get…philosiphal; other than that, she doesn't have a lot to say, so…she's kind of boring to talk to.
In the end, he often prefer to talk to Church.
But now that asshole could be anywhere – in the past, present, whatever. He wouldn't admit it, but he felt sort of…lonely. Not the kind of lonely that 'you don't have someone in the bed with you' but…regular, 'I don't have any friends' lonely. It's kind of weird.
He let out an aggravated sigh, before pushing himself up.
He's fucking bored and he didn't want to sit around and all – he thinks a lot of things and it isn't good.
The black man trudged over to where the Reds are – the last time he saw them, they were working on the Warthog (there was an argument on what to name the vehicle earlier, but Sarge quickly put an end to it with his shotgun). When he got close, he saw that two of them are under the Warthog, while the other two (the arguing – maybe secretly married – couple), and all of them wore their helmets. So did he; you would have to be crazy to take it off in heat like this!
Tucker got closer and he heard Simmons (who was looking over at something) spoke up:
"You know as soon as we get this up and running, we'll have to attach a gun to the back of the vehicle. It doesn't feel right, you know?"
The black man looked over at where the gun should be. True to what Simmons said, there isn't a gun at the back. He looked back at the maroon clad soldier. "Okay, but where in the fuck are you going to find a gun out here?"
"I don't know," Simmons shrugged as Grif got himself comfortable in the driver's seat.
"You know, if we're talking about adding a few new things, we should also put in new rims," Grif spoke up.
Tucker and Simmons stared at Grif (for different reasons) before Simmons crossed his arms. "No," he said. "I don't think getting new rims for the jeep's a good idea."
"Oh come on, Simmons! If we all kick in, we can get some spinners, some kickass subs, or even hydraulics!"
That got his interest. "I'm in," Tucker nodded.
Simmons stared at them, dumbfounded. "Why?"
"Um for style?" Grif replied, like it was obvious.
"For chicks," Tucker nodded.
"What chicks?" Simmons let out- then seems to pause. "Wait, would your friend be into that?"
Oh, right. He didn't consider Erica. "I don't know," he shrugged. "Do you think she could be in to stuff like that?"
"What are you guys doing?" The three of them turned to the said female as she came to them…rubbing her eye with a sleepy look.
"Where have you been?" Simmons asked her.
She yawned. "Sorry. I was just tired. I accidentally took a nap."
"A nap?" Grif asked, then he looked like he was thinking about it. "Huh… how come I didn't think of that?"
"I'm surprised you didn't get any burns or something," Tucker spoke up.
"Nah, I just slept in the shade," the woman waved it off. She grimaced and put her finger through her hair. "Ugh… I'd really kill for a brush now… or maybe a bath or something."
"Where the hell are you going to find something like that?" Simmons asked her.
"I don't know," she groaned. "I don't feel clean! It's like we haven't been bathed in forever!"
"So? I don't take a bath in a while," Grif said, leaning against the seat.
"What-?" Simmons yelped out then let out a disgusted noise. "That is fucking unsanitary!"
Tucker found himself glad that they have on helmets (again)…and made a mental note to also bathe.
"Anyway, besides her, what other chicks are we going to find?" Simmons asked. "We don't even know if anyone's still alive."
"What about Tex?" Erica asked.
"What about her?" Simmons asked back.
"I'm just saying, what if she's also alive and somewhere in this time era?"
Oh. He forgot about her, actually.
"Well, who cares about her?" Grif said. "At least she isn't around to kick our asses now."
Erica made an unamused grunt.
Someone cleared their throat, and they looked over at Sarge. "Ya'll having fun gossiping?"
"Uh…"
"Technically sir, we're just talking about some stuff," Simmons said.
"Well never mind that," Sarge said. "If you ladies are through, I could use some help fixing our vehicle!"
"Oh yeah, right, here let me try-"
"Wait!" Erica called out, cutting off Grif. "Um… aren't you forgetting someone?"
"Who? Caboose?" Tucker asked her.
She just pointed at something behind Sarge on the ground. They looked and saw Donut still under there. "What the-? Donut, what are you doing?" Sarge demanded.
"I'm just petting the bunny that's in the soup can!" Donut said.
The what?
Sarge grumbled something and grabbed Donut by the ankles and pulled him out from under the Warthog. "HEY!"
"Donut, I specifically said 'don't touch anything'! Especially the muffler to the Warthog!" Oh. So that's what it was.
After getting at a fair distance, with Donut pouting and looking huffy, Sarge hollered to Grif, "Okay! NOW give it a go!"
Grif nodded and turned on the Warthog. It turned on without difficulty. "Oh yeah! Listen to that purr!" You can practically hear the grin in his voice.
"At least we know it works," Erica said- right before the engine died. "…oh… uh…"
Tucker looked over at her. "Spoke too soon?"
"Yeah, I guess," Erica shrugged.
Sarge grunted. "Looks like it could use some more work," he said before he inspects the Warthog.
At that time Simmons got onto the passenger side of the vehicle. "Hey, what are you doing?" Grif asked him.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Simmons asked back. "I'm getting in the jeep."
"What are we, on a date?" Grif shoved him away. "Get in the back."
Erica made a smirk. "If Simmons has the back, who takes the top?"
Oh, he saw what she did there. It wasn't a moment later until the two of them sputtered.
"What the fuck?!"
"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" The two of them exclaimed.
Erica sniggered. "You two are so insecure."
Tucker nearly bust out laughing at that stammering Simmons is making, as Grif stared (or glared) at her.
"Would you all shut up?!" Sarge yelled, with a glare. "In case you've forgotten, we need to get this thing fixed!"
"Sorry," Erica shrugged. "I'm just having a bit of fun."
"Why would you want to have fun at the time like this?" Simmons asked her.
Erica bowed her head a bit before placing her helmet on. "It keeps me from brooding too much."
Tucker gave a look at her. She does tend to brood a lot. He often saw her do that a lot, but whenever he asks, she always says that it's her 'thinking face'. But why make an expression like that when 'thinking' or in la-la land? It doesn't make sense.
"Okay, look," Sarge's voice got the aqua clad man back to reality. "I know on Blue Team, you like to lollygag a bit-"
Tucker made an exasperated sigh. "There is no Blue Team," he said. "It's all a lie – Red and Blue are the same."
"Oh don't start that crap again," Grif groaned.
"But it's true! Even Erica agrees," he looked over at the indigo clad woman, "right?"
"Uh…" He noticed that she hesitated a bit before nodded. "Yeah. I believe him."
He raised an eyebrow. What was that about?
"You know, you two sound like conspiracy nuts when you talk about that stuff," Simmons sighed. Then he said in a sarcastic monotone, "The government put a chip in my brain!"
"The President can hear my thoughts!" Grif added.
"We never landed on the sun!" Donut whimpered.
"Actually, that one is true," Erica cut in. "You would be nothing but melted skin, roasted meat and destroyed bone before you even reach it. It may seem small where we are now, but a star is a lot bigger than say… Jupiter."
"Really?" Donut asked, surprised.
"Yup, and there are others a lot bigger than the one the planet we're on is currently rotating around."
Grif scratched his head. "Does that mean that they also put fluoride in my water?"
"That's right,' Simmons nodded.
"Huh," Grif let out. "No wonder I listen to so much pop music."
Sarge grumbled, palming his visor. "Anyway, while this conversation is interesting, I better go and check on Mikey," Erica said. "I gotta make sure that he isn't sleeping in the sunlight."
As she walked off, Sarge looked over at him. "Back on topic, we're fixing the jeep because we need to be prepared, just as our enemies are no doubt preparing to attack us at this moment."
Tucker blinked incredulously. "But you guys think I'm your enemy, and I'm not preparing to do anything," he reminded them…before he smirked. "'Cept get L-A-I-D." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
He looked over at the Reds staring at him, his smirk falling. "Laid."
"Yeah, we can spell," Grif said. "We just think that was fucking weak."
Tucker rolled his eyes. "You guys are no fun," he said, walking off.
He ignored what they said, putting his hands behind his head. He didn't have an intended destination, really, but he didn't want to hang around those guys for a while longer. Unconsciously, he went to the same direction as the woman. He wasn't sure why but his body just did.
After walking a few paces, he soon noticed the woman sitting on a rock. She took her helmet off, and her hair flown back a bit from a drift of wind. Tucker looked out to see what she was staring out – but it was just nothing but sand, rocks and more sand.
Blinking, he went over to her side. "You okay?"
"Huh?" The brunette blinked. Now that he got a better look at her, her hair is all raggedy, like she hadn't brushed it in forever. There are a few scars on her face from where she was probably burned from the explosion, and the red ring around her pupils creeped him out a bit. They always do – but a simple feature to her shouldn't change who she is.
"You brooding again?" He asked her.
"Oh… uh…" she sighed and looked forward. "Yeah…"
"Is that really normal for you?"
She didn't answer.
He sighed. Women are so weird.
Tucker found a seat next to her and sat down. At least the rock is wide enough for them.
Silence went by between them for a while…until Tucker asked, "So, how's Caboose?"
"Huh?" Erica 'intelligently' let out. "Oh, uh…" He looked at her, just as she said, "Oh god. I forgot about it."
A couple of chuckles escaped from his throat. "You forgot, just like that? Wow, you sure are the best."
"Oh shut up," she muttered. "Sometimes I forget to do the things I'm doing. Especially if I'm doing something else."
Tucker shrugged. "Well, not everyone is perfect," he said. "You said so yourself."
"…Yeah," she muttered.
The wind blew by them again, and Tucker took off his helmet, running his fingers through his hair. He hissed a bit when his fingers snagged on a few knots. Looks like he has to find a way to fix up his hair.
He sighed…and he suddenly became aware of someone staring at him. The black man looked over to see Erica staring at him. "…What?" He asked.
"Did… your hair become curly the last time I saw it?" She asked.
Did it? "Uh… I don't…exactly have a mirror…" He muttered…before he looked over at the visor. In the right light, it can be reflective – so it's a good substitute for a mirror.
He noticed that his hair had gotten longer than it was before they 'time traveled', and they did, indeed, curl. Almost as if…
Tucker looked over at her. "Hey, can I ask you something?"
"Uh…what?" She looked, apprehensive. Why?
He thought about his question…then asked, slowly, "Did…we really travel in time?"
There was silence…then she answered, "No."
Tucker stared down at his reflection. "Then…what did happen to us?"
Silence again. "…I don't know," she said. "We were probably found, fixed up and moved here I guess."
"But who would fix us up and drop us off here?" He questioned. It didn't make since – if it was Command (was there really a command?) then shouldn't they be at Blood Gulch? That's… where they were stationed at, right?
And yet there are a lot of things that didn't make sense. Is there really a Red vs Blue war? Why are they really at the canyon in the middle of nowhere? Are they even soldiers? All they do is just stand around and talk – there's never any action unless something happens. Like…right now.
Tucker looked over at her. "Hey, is there really a civil war between the Red and Blue armies?" She DID agree that the war is nonsense, and that there could be more going on…what the hell is going on?
Erica gave him a look. He…honestly can't describe it, but it's like an odd mixture of shock, surprise…horror? He isn't sure.
It took her longer to come up with an answer than usual. "Uh…"
He blinked. "What?"
"Uh…wwwhy do you ask that?" Hm…something about that answer doesn't seem right.
Tucker had to repress a frown – but he felt that he kind of failed it when he said, "Well, you agreed that there was a conspiracy – and that talk we had days before this disaster. Don't you remember?" It was surprising that she agreed with him during that talk…not to mention that she seemed… unfazed by a few things – like Church coming back as a ghost, Doc appearing, the negotiation with the Reds…and there are times where she seemed frantic, like her trying to stop Sheila from continuing to fire at stuff, shoving him out of the way to take a hit from O'Malley, and trying to fight him back at Sidewinder…
Almost like…
She expected that it could happen.
"Uh… well, yeah, I do remember," Erica said finally (breaking him out of his thoughts). He ran her fingers through her hair a bit. "But… the sad thing about conspiracies is that no one would believe you unless you have proof… but, even if you DO have proof, you'll have people who'll keep denying it, even if it's the truth."
"Are you saying that I should stop telling them?" Tucker asked.
"No," she said (too quickly, he noticed). "It's just… there are some things that we need to keep to ourselves. There are some secrets that shouldn't be found out. And people would do anything to keep it a secret…like killing the person who knows about the 'secret'."
Oh yeah, that asshole in white that shot the rocket launcher out of his hands. That was…Wyoming, right; one of the people that Tex knew in the Freelancers?
But… if Tex is still out there, is Wyoming still alive as well?
…That is a thought that didn't bode well for him.
Still…
Tucker sighed and put his helmet back on – he made a reminder to himself that he needed to find a way to get his hair short. They don't have any knives on them.
And with their hair as raggedly and tangle-ly as it is right now, it'll be painful to try to brush it out.
Looks like Erica thought that as well, hissing as she tried to run her fingers through it. "Ugh… I may need to get it cut off after all…"
"Yeah," Tucker nodded. "It's a shame, really – I mean…uh…" He fumbled with his words. What could he say to the woman? Most of the time, he mostly flirts with other women (only to either get slapped, outright rejected or… well, sometimes robbed) but… Erica is different from them.
He scratched his head. "Well… your hair's got nice curls," he said. "It'd be bad if your hair can't show them anymore."
Tucker looked over at the woman, who seemed to blush a bit…then glanced away, rubbing at her arm. "Um… thanks, Lav."
"Sure," he nodded before he stood up and put his helmet back on. "C'mon, we better make sure that Caboose is okay, and not napping in the sunlight."
"Okay," she nodded, before she did the same. "C'mon."
The two headed out to where they last saw Caboose go. It wasn't long until they found the third blue napping in the shade. Tucker almost felt jealous at how peaceful he looks when he's asleep. His helmet is off, but he looks comfortable in his armor…but then he noticed something that Caboose was using as a pillow. Something black.
They gave each other a look and approached the napping blue. "Hey, Mikey," Erica said, gently shaking Caboose's shoulder.
Caboose mumbled a bit and slowly pushed himself up, rubbing his eye a bit. "Oh… hello," he yawned.
Erica kneeled to the ground. "How was your nap, Mikey?"
"Oh, it was pretty good," Caboose smiled. "The ground was nice and cool, but it isn't as soft as our beds back home."
Home huh? How long was it that he actually slept in a soft bed back at his home; before Blood Gulch?
Tucker looked over at the black object – it resembles a duffle bag. "Where'd you find that?" He asked. It looked kind of familiar…
"Oh, I found that sitting in the shade I was sleeping in," Caboose explained. "So I thought I'd use it as a pillow since it's already there."
"Is it okay if we can look through it?" Erica asked him next.
"Okay!" Caboose handed the bag over to her.
The woman gently took the bag from him, looking over it until she found the zipper. She pulled the zipper back before rummaging through it. She pulled out two things – a knife and a note with her name on it.
She looked over at the note before handing the knife to Tucker. "Here," she said before she stood up and headed off, taking the bag with her.
The two of them watched her go. "…What's wrong?" Caboose asked.
"I dunno," Tucker shrugged. Though, he could have sworn that bag was familiar…
He shrugged and pulled out the knife from its sheath. He looked over at it before he took off his helmet. He pressed the knife to his long hair.
It cut off so easily.
Tucker made a sigh. "Let's get this over with," he said, before he grabbed more of his hair.
~o~
I ran my fingers through my hair. But as I did, they soon touch nothing but air once they get to my shoulders.
I sighed – I knew that I had to do it. I don't want to have difficulty on getting out all of the knots and tangles in my hair.
…But it still feels weird not having my hair like… this.
"Ugh," Grif groaned next to me. "If you miss your hair so much, then why cut it off?"
I made a face at him. "My long hair would get in the way," I said. "Not to mention that it would be a task to brush it all out."
"Yeah," Grif nodded. "It's like you can make another animal with that amount of hair."
That's what my sister usually say as well. But even with my hair cut, it still hurts when I had to rake through my hair. God… that is so much hair…
Why am I born with thick hair?!
Stupid genetics…
At that moment, Simmons came walking in. "Okay, let's-" He then took notice of me. "…What is she doing here?"
I shrugged. "I'm bored. And I don't want to go out into the desert to search for our leader again." I also fucking hate the desert. Reminds me of those hot days in Florida.
"Geez, you really don't have any respect for your leader," Simmons said.
"He hasn't done anything to earn it," I said back, leaning against the passenger side of the Warthog to prop my foot over the dashboard. "So… why should I?" I mean, I've been trying to make sure that he would be on good terms with Mikey. I don't want to get too attached to Church because… well, I know on what his fate will be in the future.
That part is inevitable – the Meta has to be stopped…for a time.
But… it's odd and bad – I know that and yet I'm getting attached to Mikey and Lav. What if I get attached to these goofballs as well? I just…
I can't imagine what it would be like if the day comes that they die. Or get killed.
That could probably kill me as well.
Gah… not even a few days and I'm already like this. Dammit, what's wrong with me?
In an effort to be rid of myself of this, I looked over at Grif. "So what exactly are you guys gonna do?"
"Well, Grif and I were going to go out and patrol," Simmons said, though he was glaring at me. "To look for life."
"I don't know," Grif muttered, "I'd rather that we use something else."
"Oh c'mon, don't be lazy," Simmons said.
"Hey, I'd rather not wonder around the desert again," the orange soldier retorted. "The other day, I don't know how, I managed to get sand all over me!"
"You're in armor."
"Inside. And don't get me started on where I found said sand."
"It was just that one time!" Comically, I just watched the two as they…bickered, looking back and forth between the two of them. "It wasn't my fault that you fell into that sand pit."
"Don't you mean 'we'? You also fell in!"
"That's because you grabbed me!"
"I don't hear you complaining about you getting sand in certain places."
"That's because I'm a cyborg now!"
"So shouldn't you have sand in your ports by now?"
I…think I should break this up now. "Okay, I'm with Grif on this one," I spoke up loudly. I looked over the Warthog. "So… if it makes you guys feel better, we can use this. You know, as a test drive."
Sarge has been working on it for the past few days. So… it wouldn't hurt to take it out for a test drive, should it?
And Grif actually looked interested. "Hmm… that doesn't sound like a bad idea."
"Wait, I don't think we should," Simmons protested. "What if it isn't ready yet?"
"Well, we'll find out, won't we?" I asked as I looked over at it.
It looks fine to me.
I glanced over at Simmons – still blotchy, I just want to fix my glasses soon – and he seemed to hesitate. "I don't know…"
I tapped my chin in thought. True that Sarge spent most of the time fixing this thing while the rest of us tried to search for whoever else is here with us – and man did he spend his time on it. Sometimes I watched him work on it, using that tool and placing that part in it; and he usually shoos me away so that he can work in peace.
Besides Lopez, Sarge is pretty good with tools. But not as good, I should say.
Still… I don't want the two to get a tongue lashing because I suggested that we should take the Warthog for a joyride.
I nodded to myself and looked at Simmons. "Well, if it makes you feel better, just tell Sarge that we'll be putting the Warthog through its first test drive in our patrol. Would that work?"
Simmons seems to do a take. "Uh…"
"I'm pretty sure he won't mind," I added.
"I'm pretty sure he will," Simmons said.
"Well then, we won't know until you ask him." I looked over at my nails casually. "He doesn't trust me and it doesn't seem like he likes Grif much."
Simmons made a nonverbal groan, before sighing. "Okay, fine. I'll go ask him. Don't be surprised that he'll say 'no'." With that, he turned and went to find Sarge.
I let out a sigh. I hope it goes well.
"…You do realize that the old man would say 'no'," Grif told me.
"I know, but I'm taking my chances," I shrugged. I glanced at him. "So, you got a name besides 'Grif'?"
"Huh…" Grif let out, and it felt like he was raising an eyebrow under his helmet. "Simmons is right, you do ask some odd questions."
"Honestly, I don't care," I shrugged. "We aren't fighting – well, regular fighting."
"Meh, true." I waited for Grif to tell me his name – I mean, I already knew it, but I'd rather hear what they are. I don't want to seem suspicious.
…But after a while, he didn't respond. I blinked over at him. "Uh…?"
Grif looked at me. "That reminds me: have you ever drove before?"
I froze. "Uh…"
Yeah… I…never drove before. Not actually drove on open road – I practiced, and did a few things for my parents, like backing up their trucks – but… the thing is, I'm… terrified of driving. I mean, back in my day (wow, I never thought I'd say it – or think it), there are regulations and other things you need to learn about on the road – what signs to look for, what speed limit you need to go on and so forth. But that isn't what scared me. No. It was…well, there are a lot of people who just can't fucking drive! I saw a lot of people texting while driving, going slow in front of us, and even going fast – almost hitting our bumper in trying to get us to go faster! And there are a lot of crazy things that happen on the road, like, accidents.
Horrific ones that can either injure you for life…or kill you.
That's what I'm scared of the most.
And to my freakin' luck, Grif seemed to pick up on my hesitance. "Hey… you okay?"
"Uh…" I put my helmet back on. "Y-Yeah. I'm fine."
"…You don't know how to drive, do you?"
…What the fuck? How is he observant?!
On the other hand, so was Lav, but… still, this isn't what I'd expected from the laziest guy of Red Team.
…Not to mention that I don't know how to drive the Warthog…
But with a lot of things to respond to Grif's incredulous question…
My mouth just let out, "Uh…"
Grif slowly shook his head at me. "That's just sad."
I just lowered my head with a grumble.
I could have sworn the orange soldier made a chuckle-like sound. "Well, who knows how long Simmons will get here," he said. "So you'll be entering 'Driving 101' with me as your teacher."
I blinked. "Wait, what?"
He got out of the jeep. "You heard me. Get your ass in the driver's seat."
I was just…dumbfounded. "Uh… why are you teaching me?"
He shrugged. "Mostly, I just wanted to see just how bad you are with driving."
I made a face at him. "Gee, thanks," I rolled my eyes.
Sometime later…
Okay, okay. Stay calm. Just stay calm. Just stay- fuck, rock! Oh fuck, I can't stay calm! I can't stay calm! I can't-!
"What the hell are you doing?!" Someone shouted, hysterical.
I screamed, I heard someone else scream and I slammed onto the brakes. If it hadn't been for my helmet, I would have gotten a concussion when my head bashed onto the stirring wheel. But the whiplash hurts.
Oww…
"Okay… remind me not to let your drive in the future," Grif said to me.
"Hooo-kay…" I just answered. My neck hurts…
"I seriously mean it."
"Oh holy shit you're being serious." Was that Simmons? When did he get here?
I tired moving my neck, but it hurts still. So I just stayed still as I asked the maroon clad man, "When did you get here?"
"I just got here when I saw you driving around like a lunatic," he deadpanned. "What the hell were you doing anyway?"
"Grif thought it was funny to teach me to drive to see how badly I'll do," I answered, tired. My neck…
"Wha-? GRIF!"
"What? I thought it was funny at the time!" Grif exclaimed. "I didn't expect her to get all panicky after a few minutes." I felt eyes on me. "Not to mention that she never drove a fucking Warthog."
"She didn't?" Simmons asked, incredulous. "What about that tank?"
"It has an AI in it," I answered. "She drives herself."
"You guys never drove your tank?" This time, Grif sounded incredulous. "D-ha-hamn! That's just sad."
I shifted my eyes to glare at him. "Your jeep keeps getting destroyed."
"Okay, that was uncalled for," I could hear the frown in Simmons' voice.
"Guys, I just experienced a whiplash," I grumbled. "I don't have time for this shit."
Can I even get out of the jeep like this?
…I'll probably regret this, but I might as well try.
Slowly, I lifted up my head. Still kind of hurts, but it's like a cramp now…but can you even have cramps in your neck? I stepped out-
And I found myself on the ground. Specifically, on the sand. At least I have a helmet on – I had sand in my mouth one time…it wasn't pleasant.
"Uh…are you okay?" Simmons asked me, hesitantly.
"I fell on my face," I said, still face down. "Could you guys help me up?"
"Can't you get up yourself?" Simmons asked me (again).
"I don't want to risk hurting myself further."
Simmons sighed. "Good point." I felt a hand on my arm. "Grif, help me pick her up."
"Why do I have to? You're already there."
"Grif," he had a stern tone on his voice.
The orange soldier then let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine!"
The Warthog squeaked as Grif got out of the Warthog and I felt a pair of hands grab me by the other arm. "Okay, easy… Easy…!"
"Dude, calm down," Grif chided the maroon clad soldier. "She's not going to hurt you."
"Hey, I'm trying not to hurt her more," Simmons retorted before they set me on a rock.
"Thanks," I muttered, massaging my neck. At least it's getting better now. I let out a sigh.
Then I heard a whistle from Grif. "Wow… you pretty much did some damage."
"WHAT?!" Ow! Ow! Simmons, why are you near me? I rubbed my ear as Simmons ranted. "WHAT DAMAGES DID YOU GUYS DO TO THE WARTHOG!? I JUST GOT PERMISSION FROM SARGE TO TAKE IT FOR A TEST DRIVE!"
"Really?" I asked before looking at it. There's a scratch mark on the side of it. It doesn't look too bad-
Then I noticed the damage I made to the surroundings. I…holy shit, I really did that?
Some of the stone structures are destroyed. There was a large donut shaped hole on the sand some feet away… and there's a sizable crack on one of the stone structures.
I looked over at the Warthog again and saw that the 'tusks' are bent a little.
Whoops.
"…Wow…" If this is an anime, I would be sweat-dropping here.
"THAT'S ALL YOU CAN SAY?!" The maroon man shouted. He then covered his face with a moan. "Sarge is going to kill me…"
"Uh… I'm sure we can buff out the scratch," I said hesitantly.
"With what?! We don't have anything to 'buff it out'!"
"I'M JUST MAKING A SUGGESTION!" I shouted. I took in a deep breath. God these guys will drive me nuts…
I sighed. "Okay, look, just- let's just go on our fucking patrol." I palmed my face. I could feel a headache forming.
"Uh, can't." I looked over at Grif.
"Why not?"
He pointed at the Warthog. "It's in the ditch."
…Okay, how in the hell did I do that? I don't even remember getting it into a ditch.
How did I do that?
"What-? H-How the hell did you do that?!" Simmons shouted.
"I don't know!" I ran over to it to look it over. "Well… it's not too bad. We just have to get it out of the ditch."
But as I looked over at them, Simmons is still panicking. I can't even understand what the hell he's saying at this point. Grif sighed and put a hand on his teammate's shoulder. "Just… just give us a few minutes," he said before he led Simmons away.
I just watched them go.
"…Well, at least I know what they were doing for two hours…" I muttered.
~o~
Just as I predicted, it took Grif two hours to calm Simmons down. During that time, I just looked around my area of something useful, just to curb my boredom. Mostly for my boredom. At times like these, I really miss some of my stuff – my laptop, my 3DS, my iPod… There are so many things that I didn't get to do back then (literally), and a lot of things I didn't get to see. I heard from my mom that we were supposed to go to Alaska to visit my grandma and great grandparents. I haven't been there since we moved down to Virginia 22 years ago – I was just a year old when we moved – so I don't have many memories of that place. I would have liked to meet them, along with my aunt and cousin. Man, there's a lot that I missed…
Brooding again. Going off track.
Anyways, I just sat down – after wondering around – for a bit when I saw the two returning.
I looked over at Simmons. "You feeling better?"
"Uh… yeah. Sorry about that," he said, his head bowed.
I nodded and got off from the back of the Warthog. "Okay, let's try to get this out of the ditch now."
"Okay, okay, but I'll drive it out," Grif said as he got to the driver's side. I was about to say something as he was turning the keys; it sputtered…but then it died. We shared a look before Grif tried again, only to get the same results.
"What the… is this thing busted?" Grif asked.
I looked over at Simmons – he seems to be about to go into another fit. "Actually…I think it's just out of gas," I quickly spoke up.
The two of them gave me a look. "It runs on gas?" Grif asked.
"Well, not really," I answered. "I watched Sarge work on it, and asked him a few things. He said that he modified the fuel cells to do… something… and it's powered by solar energy." I don't remember a few things of what Sarge told me, but… I tried.
"So then why is it dead?" Simmons asked me next.
"Well, you guys took too long," I crossed my arms. "It ran out of energy while you were calming down." I gave them a suspicious look. "What exactly were you doing for two years?"
"Well, I can tell you what we weren't doing," Grif started.
I stared at him. "What, have sex?"
Their reaction is imminent.
"WHAT?!"
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Simmons and Grif guys.
"Fuck no! Simmons isn't even my type!" Grif shouted as Simmons stammered.
I blinked at him. "Wait, you swing both ways?"
"No! That's not what I meant!"
"Huh, I guess I owe Lav ten bucks now," I scratched my head.
"YOU BET ON US?!" Simmons shouted.
"Hey, Lav said that you two are secretly lovers, while I said that you two only bang each other for pleasure," I shrugged. Yeah, I'm shipping these two. Though for some odd reason, I'm taking a fancy to Lav and Wash as a pairing…
I'm a shipping trash. My sister will be happy to know that I have fallen to the dark side.
"WHAT THE FUCKING HELL!?" The two of them shouted.
Wow. Is it bad that I'm enjoying teasing these two? This is actually kind of fun.
I couldn't help myself. I smirked. "Hey, why not take out your frustrations on each other," I said. "Bow chicka bow wow."
…Oh dear god, I've hung out with Lav too much.
…And the two of them seem to be glaring at me. I looked between them. "…What?"
They glanced at each other, nodded and back at me. "GET HER!"
My eyes went wide. Uh oh! I quickly turned and ran away from the two.
The chase went on for a minute before Grif nearly passed out from running so much. We quickly made a deal that, as long as I don't tease them, they won't do anything to hurt me. With that out of the way, the three of us pushed the jeep into the sunlight (though Simmons had to yell at Grif to help out when he was not helping us push it out. Asshole). We then had to wait a few minutes for it to refuel before we let Grif drive the Warthog back to where Sarge is waiting.
"We're back," Simmons called out as we got near.
At least Grif drove…as straight as he could. Ugh…
I laid in the back as the two reds talked with their sergeant. Make the dizziness go away…
Nope. I felt my mouth salivate and it's warm and-
I yanked off my helmet, leaned at the very back and hurled.
Ugh…
I don't do well in car rides…
At least my hair is short.
"What the hell happened to you?" Go the fuck away Simmons.
I just lay there, miserable. "What does it look like?" I asked him sardonically.
"Are you motion sick?"
I just grunted.
"…That's just kind of sad," Grif commented.
"Wimp," Sarge said.
I turned my head to glare at the (full) Red. "Motion sickness is a common thing among a lot of people. VERY common. Do you have that at times back during your days?"
"No." That was a quick answer.
I huffed. "Whatever." I slowly made myself sit up.
At that moment, the radio went off. "Come in. Does anyone hear me? Over." Tex!
"What the-? Who's that?" Sarge cried out as I scrambled to the front seat.
"It's Tex!" I called out as I sat there to listen, as she continued:
"-looking for anyone from the Blood Gulch Outposts. Do you read? Over."
I looked around. "Is there like a radio or something? That thing that we use to talk to the other person on the other end?"
"Forget that! Let's hang up on her!" Simmons exclaimed.
"No, wait!" I held up my hand to stop them.
At that moment, Tex added, "I have found O'Malley's base. I repeat; I have found O'Malley's base."
"O'Malley?" Sarge cried out. "Son of a-"
"Called it!" I said.
"They seemed to be holed up in some kind of a fortress,"Tex explained. "I'm not sure how I got here or how they built it, but if you can read this, I need you to get here as fast as you can."
And then the Reds began to yammer. I frowned. I can't even hear Tex over them! I looked around for that… thing! The other radio! Where is it…? They managed to contact Simmons in Revelation…
AH-HAH!
I picked it up and pressed the button. "Tex! Tex, I read you, over!"
"Erica?" She sounded surprised.
"Yes. This is Erica! I'm here with the Reds of Blood Gulch, and the others are searching," I explained. "We're stationary for now, but we have a vehicle that can take us to your destination!"
"Well, okay, at least one of you is coherent enough," Tex said. "Anyway, my coordinates are two two niner delta, by one point three seven gamma." I don't know what that means, but she's at Zanzibar. That's ONE good thing.
I then noticed that the Reds are silent and I looked over at them. "…What?"
"…Well, I guess that can work…" Simmons muttered.
I shrugged. "At least the radio works."
"Right," Sarge grunted. He sounds pretty upset – he really wants to make those lens, eh? "Anyways, you stay here missy, we'll try to find the others."
"Or we can just call them by radio," Grif pointed out.
"Yeah, that seems quicker," I agreed.
Sarge grumbled – I wonder what sort of face he's making under that helmet…
"…Okay fine," he finally said before he went off to do so.
Simmons glanced at me before he went to follow Sarge. Grif shrugged before he went someplace else.
I looked back down at the radio. "Yyyyyeah…" I droned out. "We'll be there in a while. Take two to three hours or something."
"…Right," Tex grunted. "Unfortunately, you guys are the only ones that can come."
"Yeah… Ain't that the truth," I agreed with her. "Anyways, we'll come as soon as we can, all right?"
"All right. Over and out." And the line cuts off. I replaced the radio piece back where I found it and leaned back.
"Well, back to the plot…" I muttered.
Indeed.
Obviously, Erica fails at driving – she would probably get a quadruple F minus in the driving portion of the test. Or worse. …Actually, worse than that is SpongeBob.
Next chapter, they finally get out of the fucking desert and meet Tex. More talking however. Sorry if you wanted action.
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