Here ya go. A chapter. I'm so sorry for being terrible at writing fast. I hope this makes up for it somewhat.

And I tend to apologise every chapter. Should probably stop that.

Connie waited half an hour before calling again. On the second try, someone answered.

"Who are you?" A female voice asked.

"It's C.T. again. What happened?"

"None of your business."

"Karen! Who the fuck are you talking to?"

"That Freelancer chick!" Karen yelled, causing Connie's ears to sting. A minute of muted yelling later, the Insurrection leader took the phone.

"Thanks a lot, bitch."

"Why- what happened?"

"Your Freelancer friends. They killed one of my men and nearly killed two others while you were distracting me. Then that creepy kid fucking stabbed me!"

"Are you ok? Shouldn't you be in hospital, or something? Epsilon's got a really good grasp on anatomy, you might bleed out or-" He interrupted Connie's worried blabbering.

"I'm fine. Kinda an important skill for a gang member; knowing how to deal with stab wounds."

"Oh… Ok then. I'm sorry, if I had known-"

"You said you left the gang. Why should I believe you?"

"Uh…"

"If you really want to join my gang, maybe I can think of something to get you to prove you're on our side, but I don't have the time right now."

"But I need protection! It's only a matter of time before Epsilon or someone decides to get back at me and I can't fend them off on my own!"

"Calm down kid. Chances are they'll be dead before long."

"Simga? What are you doing?"

Sigma jumped, quickly stashing a small bundle of leather under a couch cushion. "Just fixing my skirt. It was torn." Her skirt was already covered in repairs, and sewing equipment littered the couch. Omega would believe the lie.

"Oh, ok. One of my shirts are broken, do you reckon you could fix that?" Omega didn't add the silent 'and we can't afford new clothes'.

"Sure. Bring it here."

Once her twin had been promised his shirt would be fixed by tomorrow, he left, and Sigma retrieved the ankle sheath from beneath the cushions. It was ugly, but would do the job. Sigma placed the kitchen knife she had been using to confirm the sheath's size inside, and hid it in her room.

Epsilon would regret trying to touch her.

"Fucking go to sleep, asshole."

Church glared at the ceiling like it was responsible for his insomnia. Tough it was past midnight, Carolina and his dad still hadn't returned. What the hell were they doing?

Maybe his dad had decided he was done. Finished himself like Church's m-Allison. The thought left an odd mix of joy and terror in Church's stomach that he didn't really understand.

Another half hour passed before a door closed and footsteps were heard from the first floor. Church decided to fuck it, and crept out of his room and down the stairs. Either it was his dad, and he could just go back to wanting to sleep, or a robber whom he should probably try to scare away, or it was- "Carolina."

His half-sister jumped in surprise. "You're still awake."

"No, I'm sleepwalking." Ok, so perhaps he was still pissed at her. "Where were you?"

"None of your business."

"No. It's none of my business that you went off to fucking steal drugs or whatever York told you to do this time."

Carolina turned to glare at him, and it was times like these when he was reminded just how deadly a fighter his sister was. "You're my younger brother. It's not your job to look after me. I can do that on my own."

"You're only older than me by three months!" Church yelled, and immediately regretted it when Carolina winced. "I'm sorry, that was stupid wording…"

"No, don't apologise." Carolina muttered. "I wasn't doing anything dangerous; York made me stay back. And before you ask Tex is fine. None of them were hurt."

"Oh, ok."

"You know what date it is, right?"

"Yeah..."

"You should tell your friends. You deserve some good attention, occasionally."

Church shrugged. "Caboose would accidentally tell the whole school, and I don't want to have to explain the age difference thing to everyone."

"Fair enough. Go to sleep birthday boy."

Church obeyed, happy that at least one person would always be there for him.

"No, you can't go home."

"But I'm bored! And the hospital doesn't have any oreos, and the food sucks."

"It's healthy."

"Exactly!"

Simmons rolled his eyes. "Maybe Sister can bring you some Oreos tomorrow."

"Fine." Grif bounced his head on the pillow, still bored. Painkillers were amazing, but being drugged didn't help entertain him. "Is she fine on her own?"

"Yeah, she dealt well enough when you were asleep," Simmons lied.

"Tucker hasn't been at my house, right?"

"No, I reckon Sister hasn't been in the mood for anything. Worried, y'know." Hopefully, Grif's drugged state would make him oblivious to Simmons' lying.

"Mkay. What time is it?"

"Uh… Three am." Shit, no wonder he was so tired.

"Do you have school tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

Grif groaned. "Don't go."

"I have to sleep sometime, fatass."

"Stay here!" Grif sat back up and pulled at Simmons' arm, causing the lanky boy to fall onto the bed, face planted on Grif's chest.

"Mmph! I can't stay here," Simmons protested once he managed to breathe.

"Yeah you can. They can't kick you out if I don't want them to." He wasn't entirely sure that was true, but Simmons couldn't really protest as Grif threw a blanket over them and hugged him gently. "Now sleep."

"If you start snoring, I'll kick you off the bed. Hospital patient or not."

"Deal," Grif chuckled, already halfway to unconsciousness. Simmons followed soon after, a grin on his face.

"Ow." Wash groaned, rubbing his head.
South and Carolina were snickering in the background. Sarge checked his eyes before announcing; "Yer have a concussion. Can 'nyone take him to sick bay?"

The person who volunteered had dark hair, and was not Omega. Which was unsurprising, as none of Wash's friends were in his gym class. Wash's attempts to figure out who exactly the stranger was, were halted when Sage pulled Wash to his feet, and all attention was required to not fall over.

"I'm surprised you didn't put up more of a fight," the stranger muttered once they had left the gym. Voice and words put a name to the face, and Wash stumbled away from Epsilon with a scared yell. Out of balance and nauseated by the sudden movement, Wash tripped. Epsilon caught him, wrapped an arm around his shoulder and supported the blonde's weight almost gently. "That was stupid. Don't you know how concussions affect people?"

Wash shook his head, though it was more to clear it than disagree. "Whatd'ya want?"

"Nothing." Epsilon began walking slowly, pulling Wash along with him. "I noticed none of your friends were there to help you."

Liar. "Get away from me. I can get to sick bay on my own."

"Ok then." Epsilon dropped Wash's arm and stepped aside. Surprised, The blonde wobbled and had to be caught by Epsilon again. "Looks like I'll have to take you."

Being this close to Epsilon set off every survival instinct Wash possessed. The simple fact he was smiling sanely and, well, being nice, served to scare Wash further. His thoughts were sluggish, clouded by dizziness and fear. Epsilon was silent as they walked, though he looked up at Wash every now and again with a grin.

"What happened to him?" Wash didn't know the nurse's name. She wore a purple shirt and brown pants, and listened to Epsilon's explanation quietly. The two helped Wash to a bed, and the nurse left, instructing that Wash rest until he could think clearly, and then for him to call her.

Wash obeyed her, closing his eyes. It took him several moments to realise Epsilon hadn't left. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Help me."

The mattress of Wash's bed shifted, and the blonde opened his eyes to Epsilon sitting beside him. "No one else was going to help you. I thought you'd appreciate it."

"Really. I thought you were gonna take me somewhere to beat me up. I mean, you don't usually get much of a chance and-"

"Would you rather I had hurt you? Epsilon asked, an eyebrow raised.

"No," Wash muttered, shifting away slightly. Though it'd make more sense.

"You are not South or Carolina's to hurt. Get well soon, David." With that quiet sentiment Epsilon left, leaving Wash confused, still slightly scared and with an oncoming headache.

"No Caboose, huh?"

"He's not even in this class," Church muttered.

Tucker rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. Usually he's all 'Church you're my best friend and I want to be annoyingly clingy for as long as possible.' Have you even spoken to him today?"

"No, and I don't want to."

"You probably should. I mean, if he's ever gonna stop being terrified of you and Tex... You said yourself that Caboose being our friend was important if we didn't want to get beat up."

"I don't care. Shut up."

A moment passed with Tucker staring at Church in confusion. "What's with you? You're even grumpier than normal."

"Shut up," Church repeated and returned to his work.

"Sheesh, fine. You're such an asshole sometimes, you know that?."

"Hey, look. South and Wyoming are back."

Theta looked up and across to the Freelancer table. South and Carolina were chatting to Epsilon, while Wyoming, North and York were having another conversation.

North certainly looked different. Even from this distance, Theta could see how his smile was real, his laughs not forced. He focused on these things and tried not to be bitter that North would no longer need Theta to talk to. He felt horrible and selfish when that failed. It was cruel to wish North's twin was still missing just so Theta would have a friend.

"Are you ok Theta?" Doc asked.

"Y-yeah. Fine." Doc was easily convinced, and returned to chatting to Maine. Omega however, knew Theta better.

"What's wrong?"

"He's lonely," Sigma muttered, distracted. Theta stared at Sigma in surprise. The ease with which Sigma figured out people's thoughts was almost creepy at times.

"Oh." Doc said in surprise. "Do you want to come with me and Maine to see Wash?"

"Where is he?"

"Sick bay. Got hit in the head. Come on."

Theta followed them. At the very least he could avoid letting Delta or Omega know that he was lonely because he'd no longer be able to talk to a Freelancer.

"Mister Washingtub?"

Wash propped himself up on an elbow. "Caboose?"

"Yes! That is my name. Why are you in the hurt-people place?"

"Because I'm hurt." Wash pointed at his head, which still ached dully.

Caboose's eyes widened. "Did people hurt you! Is your head ok? Are you ok Washingtub?"

"What? No, I'm fine, don't-"

Caboose wrapped him in a painful hug. "Are you sure? People who get hurt on the head don't always know they're not ok. I don't want you to be different. You're nice."

Once he'd finally escaped Caboose's arms, Wash tried to make sense of what he'd said. "I'm not going to change. Why would you think that?"

"I.. I changed." The moron pointed to his own head. "And now I don't know words, or how to read or- or-"

"It's ok. I'm going to keep being me. Promise." Wash patted the huge boy's shoulder awkwardly.

"That is good."

Writing Caboose is harder than it seems. Yay to foreshadowing only I'll ever get. See ya next time.