Another chapter out. Wahoo! This chapter was kinda hard to write, I think I may have totally pegged Simmons all wrong, but after watching seson 7, I wanted to make this chapter so bad, and I like it. If you like the story, you should review, if you don't like it, you should flame. Just make sure to have plenty of swears in it so that it can at least be fun to read. I own nothing. Rooster Teeth does.

He shot Donut.

Those were the only words that passed through the maroon soldier's head as he was dragged, quite painfully, towards blue base where his fate seemed no better than that of Donut or Lopez.

What Simmons couldn't understand was. Why?

Why did Agent Washington shoot Donut? He didn't have too. Yeah he was a freelancer, and freelancers were always scary badasses who took any measure to get what they wanted, but he had really thought that in the time that Washington had spent with him and the rest of the crew from bloodgulch, they had become friends.

Or well, as close to friends as any of them were from that goddamned canyon.

They would have helped him if he asked, they kinda owed him anyway.

When he first met Washington, he hadn't though much of him. All that Simmons had known was that Sarge said Command had sent them an urgent message saying that Agent Washington was reforming the blues.

That hadn't seemed good so they had found his location and attacked.

Now if they had attacked Tex, that chick in black armor that seemed to be a part of blue team, she would have kicked their asses so fast and so hard they wouldn't have even had time to think 'This doesn't seem physically possible.'

Wash hadn't done that. He had actually tried to make peace with them. Granted that was so they could actually continue fighting the Meta, but it was still better than what Tex would have probably done in the situation.

Simmons had taken to his take charge attitude right away. Simmons liked to be told what to do, and with the way Grif and Sarge had been leading lately, it was nice to finally have someone competent calling the shots.

Simmons had actually been worried when Wash had to go fight the Meta alone. He'd actually gotten pissed that Church was refusing to help him. After all, the freelancer was their friend. He had saved them when they were being attacked trying to steal a car back in Valhalla. It only seemed fair that they returned the favor.

Simmons had felt so relieved when he saw Wash. The Meta had them cornered and it had seemed they were doomed. That was when Wash had shown up. Simmons had thought they were saved.

Then, instead of fighting, Wash had started talking to the Meta. Telling him to stand down and let him handle this.

Simmons had felt confused. Why weren't they fighting? The Meta was a bad guy and Agent Washington was a good guy. That was how it worked. Why were they talking as if they were on the same mission, the same side?

Before Simmons could properly figure out what the hell was going on, Washington told them to give it to him.

Simmons didn't understand. Neither did Donut or Lopez. 'What was Wash talking about?'

"The epsilon unit, I know you have it. Give it to me." Wash said his voice harsh.

Lopez muttered something incomprehensible in Spanish while Simmons just questioned again why Wash was with the Meta. They were enemies, right? And Wash was on their side, wasn't he?

Agent Washington was apparently out of patience. Out of these three idiots, he knew which one would be the most useful to his search.

He pulled out his gun and shot the brown one first. While the pink one was screaming about how he just shot Lopez, he fired a shot at him as well, breaking the window of the car behind him.

Simmons stared at Donut in horror, holding his breath. Hoping that, what he thought, hadn't just happened.

"Donut?" he asked tentatively, fear for his friend creeping in the back of his mind.

"Hey... Simmons? I think he shot me too..." was all that the pink soldier managed to say.

Donut fell to the ground. Simmons screamed and leaned over his friend, hoping that he might still be alive.

"Why did you do that, what's wrong with you?" Simmons asked. 'I thought you were our friend. That we could trust you.' He thought.

Simmons still leaned over his fallen friend, desperately calling his name, begging him to be all right. Donut never seemed to die, why should he start now?

"Don't just stand there help me!" he yelled, this time directed at the man whom he thought was their friend.

Washington didn't answer. He just pointed his gun as the Meta began to drag Simmons off towards Blue base.

"Once you get inside call for a medic." Wash told the maroon solider, his tone threatening.

For a moment Simmons had a brief glimmer of hope. His eyes darted towards where Donut lay shot and wounded. Not moving.

'Maybe Wash does still care.' Simmons dared to think.

His hopes were soon dashed.

"We need someone to check the Meta, besides it might be useful to have a medic hostage."

Simmons just nodded his head, fearing he might end up like Lopez or Donut if he didn't.

Then he was left alone with his thoughts of what could have possibly happened to the man he thought was their friend.