Above Ground

by Yin

AU. Dexter Grif really only ever wanted to keep himself and his sister out of trouble, and maybe get a few naps in while he was at it. But chance encounters end up putting him in the thick of a battle to save his home. ...Figures. {Grimmons, other pairings mentioned in fic.}

20. Chapter 20

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue or any of the show's characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.

Chapter Twenty:

The sheer amount of confusion and disbelief that seemed to fall over the entire space as Church's lifeless body fell directly on top of his cousin was downright suffocating. It was as if everything had simply become frozen in that one single, terrifying moment.

Simmons' brain was simply trying to figure out the "whys" of it all, the still organic components of his throat now raw and aching from the scream he'd reflexively let loose. Why was Agent South Dakota there? Why did Church do that? Why was the cyborg just standing there, mentally asking himself questions he didn't have any answers to?

Why the fuck had they even come here again?

Sheila, standing nearby, seemed to be practically catatonic. The robot had gone eerily still and silent when the Virtual Intelligence of the facility, F.I.L.S.S., had spoken using her voice earlier. But now it appeared as if she wasn't even functioning at all, as if what had happened to Church had broken her.

Sadly, maybe it had. Church and Sheila had been as close to friends as Simmons had ever really thought their team leader could be with someone else, even before the two of them had joined their group.

Doc seemed just as shocked as Simmons, as the redhead was fairly certain his friend had shouted their teammate's name too when the blood had splattered into the air. But Doc was apparently quick to remember his role as a medic.

The bespectacled man moved forward, tentatively at first given the fact that South was still there. But in about two steps the medic had started running until he was close to Church with his odd-looking medical scanner out in front of him, bathing the cobalt armored form in green light.

Given his friend's body language as he did so though, it seemed as if Doc already knew what the scanner was going to be picking up.

At that moment, Simmons tried really hard not to remember Doc's joking remarks about what a medic's role compared to a doctor's was. To make someone comfortable, wasn't it? Too early, too…fuck! It had all been too sudden.

The two Freelancers that had accompanied them were the ones to react quickly to their teammate being in their midst. Washington had his weapon aimed at South's exposed head, and for a second Simmons almost found it odd that she wasn't wearing a helmet given the situation.

There was probably only a second before the blonde Freelancer pulled the trigger, "Have you lost your fucking mind, South?"

The question was anger and pain all rolled into one. Even with his armor on there was a slight momentary tremor in Washington's body language. How much effort did it take to point a gun at someone you probably considered a friend?

Simmons briefly recalled that he'd done the same to Grif awhile back. The thought made his stomach feel even sicker. His eyes darted back-and-forth from Church's body and his still alive teammates to the sudden standoff taking place.

"Have you, Wash? Or did you ever really get it back after that whole A.I. fuck-up?" South was sneering, seemingly completely unconcerned about the gun pointed towards her face, "Breaking into here means you're all traitors."

"I have no records of any such change in status for Agent Carolina or Agent Washington." F.I.L.S.S. spoke up then through the terminals, sounding oddly terse: "A shot has been fired inside the facility. I detect no loss of life, but should I run security measures?"

"N—no loss of life?" Simmons sputtered incredulously, "But Church is—"

He didn't get to finish his confused statement as a guttural scream of what he could only describe as pure rage erupted from Carolina. Up until this point, the cyan-armored Freelancer seemed to have been in just as bad a state of shock as Sheila underneath Church's corpse after he had shielded her.

In one quick motion, she'd pushed her cousin's body off of her. She didn't seem to take notice of the red liquid splotching her armor, or of Doc's fearful screech as he scrambled back out of her way. Then the redhead moved in a blur until she suddenly had South's throat in a vice-like grip with one hand, twisting the gun out of the other Freelancer's hands with the other.

"Carolina!" Washington shouted in warning. There was a small note of fear in his voice as well, her sudden action had apparently even been a bit unsettling to him.

Not that Simmons could blame anyone for that reaction, considering the sudden weakness in his limbs just then. Agent Carolina looked scary enough now just with her beyond livid body language even while fully-armored, let alone combining that with the almost nightmarish quality effect the blood splattered against the cyan conveyed.

He didn't even want to imagine what her face must look like underneath her helmet.

"Always wanted to figure out what would piss you off." South wheezed, still strangely smirking despite the sudden change in her position, "Beyond Tex that is."

Carolina's gloved fingers were squeezing tighter and South was starting to take on a shade of purple that was eerily starting to match her armor, "You…killed Church."

Somehow, despite the pressure on her throat, South managed to spit out, "As…as if I could kill that thing."

The remark was bizarre enough that Carolina paused momentarily in her strangle attempt.

South managed to grin again as she wheezed, "Y—you really…didn't know? You honestly thought I put a bullet in your cousin?"

The blonde Freelancer glanced at Delta's hovering form nearby, "I'm surprised your little green friend didn't fill you in." She remarked, a devious glint in her pale blue eyes as if this was a very pleasant sudden turn of events in her mind, "Then again we all just love sharing, don't we?"

"South…!" Carolina tightened her grip again. South's voice promptly cut off while her eyes seemed to bulge out of her face slightly. Simmons wanted to turn away but couldn't, even as he knew he was about to watch the red-headed Freelancer kill someone with her bare hands.

"Goddamn it! What the fuck was that for, assholes?"

Hearing the voice of their recently very much deceased unofficial team leader suddenly cutting into the thick of things was, admittedly, the last thing the cyborg would have thought possible.

Doc reacted first, jumping even farther away from the body than he had done before when Carolina had darted past him to grab Agent South Dakota, "Church!"

Hovering just above his own corpse was a small, miniature "ghost" of Leonard Church completely decked out in full armor. Only…it was white instead of cobalt, and blindingly so! It actually hurt Simmons' artificial eye in particular to look at this new form for too long, and his normal eye had started watering up in response.

At least he told himself the tearing up was because of that and not because of any kind of "crying out of happiness" thing. Because, honestly, right at this very moment? His brain was more-or-less just trying to process how the fuck what he was seeing was even plausible.

"Um…" Church paused in the middle of his tangent, looking at the shocked stares directed his way and his relative's choking grip on another Freelancer before his gaze traveled down to his own body and the blood pooling around it in obvious confusion, "I think I'm really going to need a fucking explanation."

---

In his life, there were a lot of things that Washington would have liked to have seen gone differently.

Fuck, if he were to make a list covering his lifetime with old-fashioned pen and paper it would probably have had his hand cramping in about ten seconds. Such a list would no doubt take up a shit load of memory on a datapad. He'd had more than his fair share of poor decisions, missed opportunities, and just getting his ass handed to him over the years.

Narrowing such a list down to just this mission alone? Even then, he was looking at a fair share of screw-ups that he had inadvertently played a part of.

Washington had flashed through all of them numerous times already, and had just added a few more to the mental list as Carolina began choking the life out of their traitorous teammate. Ironically enough, he knew that they were undoubtedly the traitors in South's eyes given everything.

That was all seconds before a suddenly very confused miniature form of Leonard Church had appeared over his own dead body.

The Freelancer had to hand it to the Director in a rather morbid sort of way: the blood had been a rather nice touch.

The truth was, involving Florida's squad in this mission had always been risky. At best, they were occasionally helpful but more of a liability given their lack of intensive training. At worst, they were just potential targets.

Washington understood Carolina's reasoning as to why she had wanted to bring them along. They could certainly have been of use for assistance. There had been the possibility of potentially finding out about the Council's interest in Sheila and Simmons too.

But, he knew that she had been unsure of it herself. That she had most likely debated the measure in her head before finally deciding to go along with it as part of their strategy.

Had Washington voiced his concerns more, the Freelancer leader would have perhaps eventually listened.

Not making himself more aware of South's activities during this whole fiasco had also clearly been a major mistake. He had, admittedly, been focused more on the sudden inclusion of the mercenaries into the ranks at the Mother of Invention. So much more that he hadn't paid as much attention as he should have to what South Dakota had been doing.

It didn't help that she still seemed to hold a grudge against him for what she felt was his role in the cancellation of the A.I. implantations.

Given that his "role" in that had been a complete and utter mental collapse and nearly dying alongside the suicidal Fragment in his head, he wasn't really in the mood to try to discuss that particular issue with her or anyone else. South would usually just glare at him, share a few terse words, and then storm off.

The whole situation with Hargrove, the relic, Junior, both Sheila and Simmons, and even Epsilon of all things getting thrown back into the mix? Well, thinking on the possible actions of a sulky teammate had barely crossed his mind. He had tried covering his tracks in regards to Wyoming and the mercenaries, but never thought to do so with South.

A mistake that was definitely biting him in the ass now.

After what had happened with North, one would think that lesson would have been burned into all of their brains.

The next major mistake of this mission would be that he hadn't said more to Church about what he actually was. Learning about it in such a way?

Well, Washington could only imagine how much of a shock that was to a person who had never had any idea of it beforehand. No matter how inexplicably it might seem to the Freelancer that that was the case.

"Come on, guys." Church was saying impatiently to the room as Washington thought about the current state of events, "Any day now would be fucking great."

"…Church?"

It was Carolina who had asked that. Her voice sounded bizarrely like it was faltering and even unsure. It was strange to hear her tone like that for how steel-edged it usually was.

The little girl with red hair looked on, uncertain, as someone (him?) barely cast a glance over at her from their work.

…He hadn't relived that particular memory in awhile. Washington frowned, wondering if this whole situation and being so close to Epsilon again was just going to trigger more of them.

It would be problematic if it happened more frequently, since things were getting progressively more intense and dangerous as they continued their mission.

Carolina's hand was still crushing South's windpipe, but her shock at seeing Church and somewhat turned head meant that her grip had at least lessened enough that the other woman could get some air in.

"S—see?" The blonde coughed a little, "He's fine. I—it takes more than a bullet to kill those toys."

South was looking pointedly at the fluctuating form of Theta as she spoke, eyes narrowed. The A.I. Fragment flinched and it was easy enough to understand why. The Freelancer was making a veiled reference to the wound she had inflicted on her brother right before she had ripped his implant out.

"How…?" Carolina, meanwhile, seemed completely out of sorts as she tried processing all of this new information.

South scoffed at their "steadfast" former leader's reaction, "Don't tell me you didn't know, Miss High and Mighty!"

Carolina turned towards her then, and it was easy enough to imagine her eyes hardening behind her visor. The newfound wince on South's face was a pretty clear indicator that the redhead had started applying more pressure to her grip.

"What the hell's going on?" Carolina demanded, focusing her attention on both Washington and Delta.

Given that Church and the others on his squad seemed just as out of sorts about everything, and that Theta had been stuck here, the two of them were the most likely out of the group beyond the having-way-too-much-fun-mocking-her South to know more.

Delta flickered slightly just above Carolina's shoulder, this being one of the rare instances where it seemed as if the more logic-based A.I. Fragment was rather unsure of how to approach a dilemma. It was fairly obvious in Delta's mannerisms that he had been withholding information he had known for quite some time, and that it was now staring him directly in the face.

Washington frowned, starting to piece together yet another part of the puzzle he hadn't necessarily thought of before. At this point he was both cursing his oversight and desperately wishing he hadn't for Carolina's sake in particular.

"You—you mean you didn't know? And your new toy decided not to share?" South managed to somehow let out a bitter, choking laugh as she glanced from Washington back to Carolina, "Or Wash here? Guess I do feel bit bad for you, then."

Carolina turned back to stare at her, and Washington wondered just how unforgiving her gaze was then. One thing Carolina couldn't stand was pity, and mocking pity from the person who had tried gunning her down and even managed to take out a relative instead was even worse.

South didn't seem to care though, "I can't believe you actually thought that thing was your cousin!"

Perhaps that explained South's lack of a helmet: either she had been driven to such an emotional extreme that she no longer cared to go on living, or this was some kind of ploy on her part in an attempt at a poorly conceived mind game.

Regardless, it wasn't going to go well.

"South, shut up." Washingon's voice was low in warning, "Or F.I.L.S.S. will be registering a death."

On top of wishing he had not only prepared Church but Carolina too beforehand, a part of him was seriously regretting having not taken out South well before the conversation had gotten to this point.

South raised an eyebrow, "Please, Wash. As if you'd have the guts to go through with that threat."

True, he would have more than simply hesitated in the past. Yes, back when he didn't see potential betrayals in all of his comrades just waiting to happen.

But, given what South had done here and that she was definitely hindering their mission at this point, the only reason he hadn't currently was because Carolina was blocking him getting a good shot.

They were running out of fucking time!

Washington quickly made a mental list of what had transpired while on the mission. There was Theta's urgent declaration of Epsilon's apparent deteriorating condition. Then the apparent shock that had overcome Sheila after hearing F.I.L.S.S. speak, which was another scenario both he and Carolina should have foreseen given this facility's ties to the Director and Project Freelancer. Next there was Church getting shot dead only to suddenly come back in miniature form in front of his more than stunned teammates. Finally, they had Carolina being wracked with disbelief, confusion, and no doubt a lot of anger as the pieces all started falling into place.

There was literally no way this situation could get any worse. At all.

"Knock-knock." A gun suddenly cocked behind Washington's helmeted head as the all-too familiar British accent spoke up jovially.

Oh, fuck me!

Washington couldn't help but swear mentally.

No wonder South hadn't seemed particularly upset at getting "caught." By keeping them talking and focused on her, it was the perfect distraction someone else could use to their advantage.

"So, both of you are working for Hargrove now?" The blonde let out a sigh. If that was the case, he wasn't really all that surprised.

"Not very polite or sporting of you to not go along with the joke, Washington." The white-armored Freelancer sighed himself and clucked his tongue disappointingly at the younger man's apparent lack of manners. Washington had to bite down a scathing retort of his own on Wyoming's idea of polite behavior as the brunette continued: "But, no, South isn't employed by the Chairman."

She scoffed, "I could give a rat's ass about Council power plays and Slums shit."

"While I really only care about who pays the most." Her cohort stated as he shrugged indifferently, "Who, currently, is definitely the Chairman about to take full control of the government. Really, working for him is just covering my bases."

"B—but why?" It was Simmons, surprisingly, who spoke up then despite having fallen into a state of panic earlier at Church's sudden reappearance in the world of the living, "If you know what he's going to do, then—"

"It's nothing personal, mind you, lad." Wyoming cut the maroon-armored soldier off before he could finish, "But being moved by a conscience doesn't help secure much of a livelihood."

"Like I said, I don't give a fuck who lives or who dies in this stupid war so long as I'm not one of the dead ones." South's eyes darkened as she added under her breath, "I just want to see someone again before it all goes to hell."

That "someone" by the inflection in her voice and the not-very-subtle glare in Theta's direction no doubt was North Dakota.

Washington frowned, "To do what exactly, South?" He somehow doubted very much that it would be to apologize, "To finish what you started?"

She turned to smirk in his direction, "Wouldn't you like to know?" She mocked, raising an eyebrow at him quizzically, "Or do you want me to show you?"

Washington was definitely starting to regret not having shot her earlier when he'd had the chance. A part of him hated that he felt that way about former teammates as he certainly wasn't feeling much friendlier to Wyoming currently either, but on the other hand? It was obvious neither of them were feeling any sort of camaraderie towards their former teammates anymore.

"So, if you're not working for Hargrove—" Carolina still sounded a bit out of sorts given the shocks of the last few minutes, but apparently Wyoming's arrival had helped her to start focusing again on the task at hand.

"Oh, I am still, but this is more of a personal side-job than anything else." Wyoming was talking as conversationally as ever, as if he was describing a recent book he'd read instead of his questionable employment choices while holding a gun to someone's head.

"I've always been a tad curious to see if the Director had hidden some of his more secretive projects somewhere that Hargrove wouldn't even know about, and the two of you have been sneaking around quite a bit recently yourselves." The Freelancer continued and nodded at the recollection, "We figured that you would lead us to something useful, eventually. We were right, weren't we, Gamma?"

His partner flickered into visible existence nearby, his focus entirely on the miniature form of Church, "Affirmative."

"There you have it." Wyoming tilted his head slightly in South's direction, "I wasn't quite sure depending on how things played out if I would want Hargrove or his mercenaries knowing what I was up to."

That made sense in a twisted sort of way. Wyoming was certainly not an idiot. He knew that putting all of his eggs in one basket with someone like Hargrove wasn't the smartest move given how disposable the man tended to view even those working for him. Having some potential alternatives in wait was sound, all things considered.

Wyoming carried on, "Our dear Agent South wanted to figure out what you were up to as well, so at the last second we partnered up like old times. She was hurrying so much not to lose track of you that she even forgot her helmet of all things."

That explained that then. South must have somehow caught wind of them making their move while she'd been in the middle of either arming up or arming down at base. He recalled that she would sometimes act impulsively like that, to the point where it affected her performance on the field on occasion.

Wyoming paused then, the frown evident in his voice as he talked, "Though I specifically wanted to wait to make our move until you were further into the facility."

"I saw an opportunity and I took it." South seemed completely nonplussed by the disapproval Wyoming was throwing her way, "I wanted to see just how quick our leader's reflexes were." She grimaced, glaring over at Church hovering over his blood-stained corpse, "I had no idea the stupid A.I. of all fucking things would get in the way."

"The…the what?" Simmons spoke up again, causing Washington to wince slightly in sympathy. The poor guy's voice seemed to be rather stuck at the moment on a permanent high-pitched frequency.

South continued on as if he hadn't said anything, "You can't say you didn't have it coming, Carolina." She stated rather conversationally, "Always so smug and on top of the rankings. Always keeping secrets."

Then she grinned, lowering her voice as if she was sharing a secret, "I couldn't fucking stand that Tex bitch either, but I guess seeing someone finally getting under your skin was petty enjoyable."

Carolina's entire body went rigid. Washington was beginning to wonder just how long the threat Wyoming posed would continue to prevent her from tearing the orchid-armored Freelancer limb from limb.

South's smirk only widened, and it was apparent she was baiting her on purpose. Wyoming would put a bullet through Washington's helmet if Carolina so much as squeezed just a fraction harder.

"Seriously, guys, what the fuck is going on here?" Church asked again, clearly getting very agitated at the lack of attention his new predicament seemed to be getting.

"I'd have thought it would be quite obvious." Wyoming shrugged, "Though I suppose Florida didn't really explain too much to you." He sighed, "Good chap, that one. A bit too soft-hearted for his own good though."

"Florida?" Doc shared a questioning glance with the others on his squad at the name, "Are you talking about Captain Flowers?"

"That's right. I forgot. I suppose you knew him better under that name after all." Wyoming nodded his head at the realization, "My apologies."

"What…what does he have to do with this?"

The mention of their former leader apparently was causing Church to regain his wits a bit sooner than even Washington would have expected after everything. Sometimes thinking on the past could help keep one grounded in a way, he supposed.

"Quite a bit, actually." Wyoming stated in reply, tilting his head slightly in the direction of the man he was still holding at gun-point, "Wouldn't you say, Washington?"

Wyoming was trying to keep confusion high on purpose, keep the trust amongst the group fractured so that they wouldn't try to form any counter-measures. It was a pretty useful manipulation tactic for stand-offs.

Good strategy considering that they were in quite a large stand-off at the moment.

Washington wasn't sure if talking with the two Freelancers was going to help things, or just end up making any later possible attempts at explanation that much worse.

He cast a quick glance over at Carolina, who inclined her head slightly at the action. It seemed as if perhaps she was thinking along similar lines.

"F.I.L.S.S.?" She called out suddenly, voice booming.

The Virtual Intelligence's response was prompt, "Yes, Agent Carolina?"

"Agent South Dakota and Agent Wyoming have been compromised." She stared at both of them impassively from within the confines of her helmet, "Activate security measures."

Wyoming shook his head, "Admirable effort, Carolina, but we all know that won't work."

There was a momentary pause, and F.I.L.S.S. spoke up almost regretfully, "Agent Wyoming is correct. I am sorry, Agent Carolina, but at this facility only the Director has the authority to designate Freelancer agents as threats—"

Carolina cut her explanation off short, apparently already figuring out a way to bypass that issue as she turned to the floating form of her cousin, "Church?"

If Church still had his face underneath his helmet in that virtual form, there was no doubt that he was probably frowning at the moment.

He flickered somewhat as he seemed to pick up on what Carolina was getting at a second later, "F.I.L.S.S., just…do it, okay?"

Another slight pause and then F.I.L.S.S. chimed in, "Of course, Director."

"Oh, didn't think of that—" Wyoming was cut off before he could finish as his armor fully locked down in a sudden wave of energy flowing through it, freezing him in place.

"Reggie!" Gamma gave a small cry of distress at the sudden state of his human partner.

South grinned, "No helmet, remember?" she taunted, "You can't fucking pull that trick on—" she wasn't able to finish as Carolina's fist impacted forcefully on the side of her skull, promptly causing the Freelancer to crumple onto the ground.

There was silence for about two seconds following that, before Simmons spoke up, "Um, what was—"

"It was a security measure built into our armor, in case we became a security risk." Carolina explained, "Easy enough to override once you find out about it."

The indication seemed to be that she'd already removed it from her own armor, and no doubt any of the Freelancers who had defected had done so as well. It had, admittedly, been one of the first things Washington had gotten rid of after what had happened with Epsilon. Just in case.

He paused, staring at Wyoming in surprise, "I would have thought he would have removed it too the second he knew it was there."

After all, Wyoming tended to be prepared for almost anything. He'd probably been aware of the measure long before any of them had. It wasn't information that Freelancer had been all that willing to tell any of them for rather obvious reasons, but one cursory glance at classified schematics or stolen intel and it would be right there in plain sight.

Carolina shrugged, "He had. I reinstalled it later on without him knowing."

Since he hadn't known about it, he'd never looked for it again. A shiver went down Washington's spine at the admission. It seemed as if Carolina had been more aware of the activities of her teammates than even he had thought she was for quite some time.

"Should I be checking my armor out again too?" He asked, half-jokingly to break tension.

The cyan-armored soldier fixed him with a level look from underneath her visor, "Might not be a bad idea after we're done here."

Fuck. He forgot how she tended to plan quite a bit for contingencies too.

He'd have to make a mental checklist to do that later. Still, he was feeling slightly relieved all the same that she apparently decided he was trustworthy enough still to admit that she'd attached a failsafe to his person when he had been working for Hargrove.

He paused, looking from Wyoming to the unconscious South, "Should we…?"

He let the question dangle in the air unfinished, though it was pretty obvious what he was asking.

Killing people trapped inside their armor, or who weren't even awake to defend themselves, wasn't exactly something he was all that eager to do. Especially not when there was some history there. That history had definitely gotten unpleasant in recent years, but it hadn't always been.

Still, he knew that it would be a major liability to not do anything either.

He had to take into consideration who they were with currently too. He couldn't imagine that sort of thing would go over well with Florida's squad, and there was probably a lot of doubt running through their minds already given what had occurred.

Carolina looked at the unmoving two in consideration as well, before giving a quick shake of her head as she told him, "No time."

He noted that she hadn't exactly said she would have been against it if there had been time though. Suddenly Carolina focused her attention to the whole group, "We need to get moving. Now!"

"What, why—" Simmons was about to ask when suddenly the entire space began shaking violently around them.

A few panels that had seemed to be securely on the walls shook loose with crashing thuds. The sound of clattering objects and broken glass could be heard from behind the closed doors on either side of the hallway.

Washington swore, remembering now how the automated defense systems invented by the Director could be absolutely brutal.

Carolina moved past all of them to the other end of the hallway, casting one last look at her cousin's body before focusing her attention on the floating figure above it, "Let's go!"

Church shook the shock out of his system and turned to face his teammates, "Right. Move it, assholes!"

Washington spared a quick glance at Gamma's white form, already hovering over his Freelancer cohort.

The armor freeze was temporary at best, especially with a Fragment present who could bypass the security override easily enough in just a few seconds. But, by the time he would, both Wyoming and South would no doubt be plenty distracted with the defense systems F.I.L.S.S. was in the process of starting up.

They had about ten seconds to get out of the way of those defense measures themselves too.

Simmons and Doc pushed the still oddly quiet Sheila along with them. She was, thankfully, moving her feet albeit at a sluggish pace. If she hadn't, no doubt it would have been a huge struggle to get her metallic body to move that they didn't have time for. Church was observing over their shoulders nervously as Washington started heading in the direction Carolina had gone in as well.

The group made it to the opposite end of the long corridor to a doorway that Theta was hovering close to. Carolina and Washington held back in case they needed to provide cover until the others were through.

As soon as the Freelancers dived through the doorway, the telltale sounds of the laser-guided guns started going off.

Carolina shouted, "We're clear, F.I.L.S.S., seal it!"

"Acknowledged."

The heavy door they had all clamored through sealed shut behind them with a resounding thud.

As the humans in the group started trying to recollect themselves, Delta reappeared. He had vanished into the compartment in Carolina's armor where he was being stored earlier as they ran for cover.

"By my calculations, that will have bought us only a small amount of time." He stated, "Gamma is already attempting to bypass security."

"We better make it count then." Carolina stated, though she fixed both Delta and Washington with a hard stare, "But before we do anything else, I want to know what exactly is going on."

"Yeah, you're not the only one, Carolina." Church added in afterwards, flickering again as he darted into his cousin's line of sight, "How come I'm having one huge ass weird-as-fuck out of body experience?"

Well, it figured that they had reached the point where the elephant in the room needed to be addressed. Washington sighed, not really knowing how to even begin.

"I think the answer to that one should be pretty obvious, Church." Doc spoke up matter-of-factly just then, saving Washington from having to think of something right then and there.

"You think?" Church looked at the medic rather skeptically.

Frank DuFresne's gaze swept over Church's miniature armored form, landing on those of Delta and Theta in turn, before turning back to his teammate, "Obviously, you've become a ghost."

Okay, out of all of the things Washington had heard recently, that one was by far the stupidest.

He stared incredulously as the rest of Florida's team absorbed this new information.

To his complete and utter shock, all of them nodded slightly at first. It was as if they were actually accepting Doc's explanation at face value.

"Well," Church nodded his head even more enthusiastically than the others did, "I mean, yeah, obviously. That makes perfect sense."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" His brain was a second away from exploding. Washington was sure of it.

"He did come back from the dead after getting shot, Agent Washington." Doc reasoned patiently.

"That's…" He paused and tried counting to ten in his head before attempting to talk again, "That is the explanation you came up with? The only one?"

Maybe Doc was just trying to air the really bad and ridiculous ideas out of the way first before attempting the more logical ones. Maybe this was the group's approach to humor in the face of really stressful situations, and as an outsider he just wasn't getting it.

That hope was dashed by the dumbfounded looks being cast his way at the questions.

"What other ones are there?" Church sounded just as exasperated as Washington felt at the moment, though for quite different reasons it seemed.

"Literally anything else!" Washington gestured helplessly with his hands to Delta and Theta nearby who had both chosen to silently see how this whole strange drama unfolded, "Just look at the two of them!"

Church did just that before turning his blank stare back to Washington once more, "Not following."

"Oh, for the love of…!"

"What you're saying, Washington," he was interrupted by Carolina's dangerously low voice cutting in, and the blonde nearly jumped at it bringing back to mind rather scary moments throughout their days on Freelancer when everyone knew not to cross her, "Is that Church is an A.I., correct?"

Fuck. Maybe having them be in the dark about it for a little while longer would have been better after all.

---

The "safe house" location that Tex had supplied them with wasn't actually half-bad.

Then again, it wasn't as if Tucker had much to compare it too. The bases the Resistance had always set up in the tunnels had never exactly been ideal in terms of accommodations or décor, no matter how valiantly a certain lightish-red armored soldier tried to combat that in his spare time. He'd also describe most of the buildings in the Slums as being more practical and functional than anything else.

Growing up his mom always managed to make their apartment "cozy" somehow, though he never was sure how she'd done it. It wasn't nearly as cozy once she was gone no matter what he tried. Not until Junior entered the picture, at any rate.

The kid's drawings, no matter how someone might have said his art was more on the abstract side, always decorated the walls and furniture. Tucker never even bothered trying to get rid of them. He even helped fill in a few details on some here or there. The art had brightened things up quite nicely, even if it made it near impossible for him to step inside the space after his son's abduction. The thought of that sense of warmth being replaced with something else again was more than he wanted to think about.

It wasn't like he had gotten a good look at any of the buildings located topside during the hectic fighting-for-their-lives they'd had to do once they had left the tunnels. He was fairly certain most places would put this one to shame from what he'd heard of Above Ground buildings.

But as far as function and practicality, as well as being a spot where they could recollect after the shit-storm they'd just walked out of? This current location was as close to fucking perfect as they were liable to get.

Now, exactly how Tex had come across a derelict former bunker hidden within one of the hilly areas around Above Ground was probably best left to the imagination.

Tucker couldn't be entirely sure, but he guessed it involved a lot of dead bodies and collateral damage.

…It was also probably best left to the imagination as to how Texas apparently outfitted the place with all sorts of tech she had pilfered from Freelancer in her "spare time" in order to have a safe place to prepare for that whole defection thing she had done with York and North later on.

Tex tended to be crazy prepared regardless of the situation, so no real shock there. Though, again, it wouldn't surprise him either if there was a body trail from that endeavor too.

Regardless, the former Freelancer's preparation and earlier maintenance of her secret hideaway was proving pretty fucking useful now.

The mental image that came to his mind at the thought of the place being a "hideaway" for Tex had him wondering if she and that Church asshole had ever snuck out here for some "alone time" when they had been dating.

The subsequent terrified shudder that coursed through his body at the notion that she could somehow read his thoughts and would murder him for them helped reinforce his opinion that he should bleach his brain.

The location gave them, after all, a place to not only regroup but to also plan the next phase of this whole cluster-fuck of a mission.

Of course, nothing could be planned until they got a coordinate for where the stupid super weapon was located, but at least they were in a better spot to plan from for whenever that came through.

A better spot to get to wherever Junior was too, Tucker couldn't help but add.

He let out a tired sign, trying really hard not to let his thoughts go down the depressed and dark path they had so often gone down recently.

He had never, ever expected to be a parent in his younger years. Fuck, he knew how irresponsible he was. Much less the whole "giving birth" thing due to some pretty obvious biological reasons as to why that had never crossed his mind.

But it was fucking near impossible to not picture Junior being in his life anymore. That scared him even more.

All of the waiting these last couple of months had been torture. It was even more unbearable now that they were so fucking close, but still seemingly nowhere that they needed to be.

There was an odd hiccupping sound from further away, and a choked back sob.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kai huddled next to her girlfriend, Volleyball, who had an arm wrapped around the tan girl's shoulders. He had actually been pretty shocked that the two of them had managed to keep their relationship a secret for as long as they did, and more than a little peeved because he would so have joked about wanting photos.

From what it sounded like, Kai was mumbling loudly about her "dumbass brother" again.

Tucker had to walk away from where they were, heading elsewhere inside the bunker. He was feeling his own sense of frustration over what had happened and was finding it really hard to come up with something to say to the younger Grif sibling regarding it.

It wasn't as if the outcome couldn't have been expected of any of them given the shitty odds. But a really selfish and all too human part of him had really hoped that no one else he'd known personally would have been lost. It made him feel guilty and, well, he felt pretty fucking terrible as it was. He knew from personal experience that what he was feeling was probably nothing compared to what Kai was going through right now.

The fucking fat ass! Why couldn't he have just proven Sarge right and been lazy for one stupidly crucial moment?

Hell, he was fairly certain even Sarge had almost been too shocked for words when Bitters and Matthews had shown up at the rendezvous point and there was no sign of Grif.

The older soldier had even stayed behind for longer than was probably wise just to see if his subordinate would show up. Just to remind Grif how "unfailingly incompetent and wholly unattractive he was as both a soldier and a human being," though why Sarge couldn't have just waited to tell him that if he made it to the "safe house" later on was a bit of a mystery.

He had been rather despondent ever since, mumbling about "good-fer-nothing dirtbags" who needed to get a taste of a shotgun for making people worry.

The situation with Grif and all of the other fighters who were still missing or dead made the waiting right now even worse. Tucker had already had more than his share of waiting already.

Perhaps the Slums dweller's agitation was clearly visible in his body language even with his full armor on, because at the moment everyone seemed to be giving him a wide berth. Though he supposed that could also be largely due to right now how everyone had a lot on their minds.

Somehow without him having even realized where he was going, the dark-skinned Resistance fighter made his way outside to where a few sentries were posted. They kept their distance as he very calmly, slowly and precisely…turned around and punched the outside wall as hard as he could.

Admittedly, perhaps, not the best plan ever because fuck! That hurt even with his armored gloves on!

Tucker winced inside his helmet, glad that the sentries decided not to comment on that particularly stupid move. In hindsight, breaking his fingers probably wouldn't have helped anything.

"Still no word yet, then?"

He started at the question being voiced to him from nearby, turning around to see York standing just a few meters away.

"On what?" Tucker grimaced, but somehow managed to keep the pain out of his voice because he was a lot smoother than most people gave him credit for.

The former Freelancer shrugged, "Anything, really." He explained, "Any intel right about now would do us a world of good."

Tucker couldn't help but snort, "Yeah, no fucking kidding. I've had enough waiting on my ass for a whole lifetime."

"You're definitely not the only one, Tucker." York had a wry note to his voice at that remark.

The interaction drifted off into an odd sort of silence just then, with the tan-armored Freelancer looking out over the area contemplatively. Tucker sighed, doing the same and trying to ignore the sudden pulsating pain going through his digits.

"Do you need the doc to look at your hand?" The brown-haired man asked finally, not an ounce of mocking to be found in the question, "That looked pretty painful."

Tucker shook his still smarting hand, "Nah, I don't think I broke anything." He smirked self-deprecatingly even though York couldn't see it, "I'll probably be kicking myself for it later though when it starts to bruise."

"You're lucky, then." The other fighter remarked, "Or maybe the sod covering the bunker cushioned the impact somewhat."

True. In order to make the location blend into its surroundings, it was completely built into the landscape. The natural camouflage along with the tech stuff Tex had was put to good use in order to conceal the bunker from sight.

He wondered in a way if that was why maybe he and the other Resistance fighters felt like the place wasn't "so bad" despite all of their anxiety and hurts right now. It was different still, but had an oddly similar feel to living in the tunnels underground.

York continued the conversation, sounding nostalgic, "I punched a wall in frustration once. A metal one. Broke three fingers and was called a dumbass by pretty much everyone on my team over it for a week straight."

"Really?" Tucker glanced over at him then, surprised by the admission.

Even with how down-to-earth York, North, and C.T. could be at times it was always in the back of his head that they had once been kickass Freelancers. That they would probably never do half the shit he and the other more "unorthodox" fighters would.

York nodded, "It was just a little while before we defected, actually. When things started getting worse practically every day." He tapped his visor thoughtfully, "Right around when Wash—"

He glanced over at Tucker, perhaps just as surprised and caught off-guard by the sudden interest in the conversation the teal-armored fighter was displaying as Tucker himself was.

The former Freelancer let out a small cough and brought his reason for bringing up his moment of weakness back into focus, "Er…well, let's just say that feeling like you need to vent when things get overwhelming is a completely understandable reaction."

"Right." Tucker still felt like a dumbass over it though, and he chose to focus more on that embarrassment than on the odd disappointment he had felt on York's topic change just then. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to pry more, given how secretive Freelancers could be.

"I just hate waiting. It's the fucking worst." Tucker continued instead, sighing, "Especially given everything."

He didn't have to elaborate too much. It was fairly obvious what he was referencing given what they were doing now topside. The bomb situation, Junior, so many of their friends and allies (including the fat-ass) dead or missing.

If we don't figure out where this fucking relic is, if everything turns out to have been for nothing…

York patted Tucker's shoulder gently, "We'll hear from Washington soon, Tucker."

It was probably the safest form of comfort he could give at this point.

No assurances that Junior or Grif would be found, or that they'd be okay. No one knew shit like that for certain, so saying it at this stage would be a really dumbass move. No comment that they might hear good news. Because, really? That was all pretty much fucking touch-and-go given everything too.

"You're pretty positive about that, huh?" He asked.

"Oh, trust me. Wash is pretty damn stubborn when he's motivated." He had a feeling York was smiling underneath his helmet, "Besides, he's got D and Carolina with him too. D's a great partner for anything, and Carolina…" He paused and leaned in slightly as if sharing a secret, "Well, let's just say she can give Tex a run for her money sometimes when it comes to dogged determination."

Tucker couldn't help but shudder at the description, "Fuck, York. Are you trying to make me hopeful or scare the shit out of me?"

"Kind of the same thing in this case, don't you think?" York joked, but there was a distinct trace of fondness in his voice regardless.

Tucker was almost tempted to ask more about this Carolina lady given that, but he wasn't sure if York would really be willing to talk about her or Delta anymore than he had. It seemed that Freelancer past was always a tricky thing to navigate.

"Well, having them on our side is better than having to fight them later. I guess." Tucker chose to say instead, shuddering again at the notion York's remark had made in his brain, "We'd all be fucking doomed even more than we are now."

"That's the spirit!" Yeah, he was fairly certain that York was grinning at him approvingly.

Tucker had the sneaking suspicion that perhaps York had needed reassurance too, given how the friendly smile that usually covered the former Freelancer's face hadn't seemed to be quite reaching his good eye recently.

York knew and cared about Washington, Delta, and Carolina after all. Not having heard from them after their mission was supposedly underway was probably pretty nerve-wracking even with knowing their capabilities. Not to mention that the entire situation was just fucked up in general, and it wasn't like York and the other Freelancers hadn't become attached to everyone who was missing just as everyone else in the Resistance had either.

Maybe talking to Tucker had been a way of distracting himself from all of that shit too.

Tucker frowned as the thought crossed his mind, about to say something along those lines when…

"Hey, you two!"

Tex's voice rang out sharply and, yeah, Tucker really couldn't help jumping a little in fear. He suspected she'd waited to catch them off-guard on purpose.

She was standing behind them, arms crossed over her chest as if she was daring them to say something remotely snappy back at her.

Tucker caught York's glance. He could almost catch the mental snicker probably playing through the Freelancer's head given some of the lines from their earlier conversation.

"Unless you're taking a hand in sentry duty, it's not the brightest idea to be shooting the shit out here." She remarked, all but forcing them inside through the sheer power of the death stare she was no doubt giving them from underneath her helmet, "The location is somewhat shielded, but too many brightly colored armors out here could still attract the wrong kind of attention."

"So, you only came out there to yell at us?" Tucker asked.

She scoffed, not even bothering to look directly at him, "I personally don't care if your brains get splattered all over the place, so long as you don't drag the rest of us with you."

"You can really feel the love." Tucker rolled his eyes.

Texas shot him a glance, and that shut up any other sarcastic commentary he may have had fairly quickly, "I might not care too much, but quite a few other people would."

"That's about as close as she'll get to saying she'd mind too." York remarked in an aside to Tucker, "Take it and run."

"Got it." He nodded his head slightly in her direction, "Thanks, Tex."

"Stay focused. We might have something to do sooner rather than later." With that, the woman in black armor was gone, crossing over to check out a stack of equipment further inside the bunker.

That was probably the closest thing Tucker had ever gotten to a "warm and fuzzy" moment with the crazy half cyber-shark lady.

"Right." The tan-armored Freelancer nodded his head and promptly turned back to the outside entrance, "I should probably go check up on the sentries. Maybe take over there for awhile."

Tucker wondered if perhaps York had been on his way to do so in the first place when he had seen Tucker's rather pointless display of aggression on the wall. He gave a slight nod, "…Thanks, York."

York gave a small wave, "Anytime, Tucker." He remarked back kindly before disappearing outside again.

Tex's remark had reminded Tucker that he should probably check in on his teammates. He was fairly certain C.T. was doing okay, and Andersmith could take care of his assigned tasks pretty well now.

But, who knew what Palomo or Caboose were up to. Letting those two wander around unsupervised, especially if they were together, could be extremely scary sometimes. Especially with Freckles thrown into the mix.

He sighed, looking in the direction he'd last seen Kai and Volleyball in. He knew there was one person he should definitely check up on first no matter how unsure he was of just what to say to his childhood friend currently.

After all, Kai and Grif had always had his back growing up through a whole lot of things. If Grif wasn't around to act as a big brother figure, then Tucker should probably try to put in the effort for all their sakes.

Not to mention, it was maybe not the worst idea ever to check up on Red Team as well given everything. Camaraderie and all that crap.

He couldn't do much about Washington, Grif, or Junior currently as much as he wanted that to not be reality. But, there were others he could focus on in the meantime.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd check in with Doctor Grey too. Because, fuck it, his hand still hurt!

---

Carolina's remark was met with silence for a good solid minute or so while everyone processed it.

Then, there was laughter. Loud and raucous. The kind that if the person emanating the sound wasn't a tiny ghost and still had a physical body it would probably hurt their lungs.

Because, seriously, who knew Carolina could be that good of a fucking comedian? She was definitely hiding her talents! If she really wanted to beat Tex, all she would have to do was simply try cracking a few more jokes like that one.

His cousin looked at him sharply, the expression on her face no doubt unreadable beneath her helmet. As for how the others were reacting, who the fuck really knew? Maybe there was shock there, or sympathy because all of the laughing was probably making him sound like he was on the verge of goddamned hysterics.

Maybe there was something to be said for that, truthfully. But, you know what? Fuck them! He had nearly gotten killed just a few minutes ago, only to then have to hear all of this ridiculous shit.

Or had been killed, given the whole fact that his body was still cooling off in the hallway back there. That is if it hadn't been buried in an avalanche or burned to a crisp in whatever really over-the-top security measures this place had.

If he wanted to laugh rather insanely at how Carolina's humor tended to only be displayed at really bad times, it was more than fucking okay in his book.

"Ch—Church?" Simmons asked, rather awkwardly and nervous.

He ignored the cyborg for the moment, knowing that his teammates were probably in just as much of the dark over everything as he was.

"That's a good one, Carolina." He finally managed to get out in-between throes of laughter, "Never let anyone ever tell you that you can't tell a fucking joke."

She said nothing in response, and instead simply kept staring at him while waiting for his "giggle fit" to calm down.

There was something about her regard that threw him off-balance. It caused him to stop his laughter abruptly.

Her glance was like a prolonged version of the one she had sometimes cast his way over the last few months ever since they had returned from that stupid fake diplomacy mission. The one she had always tried not letting him see.

It was as if she was seeing him for the first time. That something about her cousin was causing her to do a double-take. It was as if she didn't fully recognize him anymore.

"C—Carolina?"

Church was surprised at how unsteady his own voice was just then. If it had shaken anymore, he could have been mistaken for Simmons. He knew it must have been pretty strange to hear, as his voice apparently caused her to flinch also when he continued: "You're…serious?"

The redhead said nothing in response. That was pretty damning evidence for him, at least. He stood (floated, more like) there in shock as she took a deep breath and instead turned to Washington and Delta again, "You two better start explaining. Now."

Washington glanced over at Church just then and fuck him! He was fairly certain the steel and yellow-armored Freelancer had just given him a goddamned pity look.

"I…had my suspicions, but I was never one hundred percent sure." The blonde stated, turning back to address Carolina, "Given the circumstances, voicing them out loud wasn't something I was comfortable doing."

"Because you didn't trust Hargrove." She stated flatly.

"Because I didn't trust anyone." Washington gave a tired shrug, "With that kind of scenario? I wanted proof first, yes." He paused before adding, "I also wanted to hold out on using the information until I absolutely had to."

So the whole thing had been a potential back-up plan for whatever weird shit the other Freelancer may have gotten into? Didn't that make Church feel so much more special.

Washington regarded Carolina cautiously then, seemingly debating for a few moments if it was even wise from a health stance to ask the question he eventually threw her way, "You really…had no idea yourself?"

Carolina stiffened at the question, her visor turning slightly to regard Church, "No."

"Carolina—" For some reason, the admission had sounded so much like a dismissal. Given the look she had given him earlier, Church couldn't stop the thrill of panic that coursed through him upon hearing it.

"I had no idea because Church is family." She stated emphatically, continuing before he could finish whatever outburst he started, "I have memories that even show it. Countless conversations too." She looked at her cousin again, nodding slightly as if oddly trying to show him a measure of reassurance, "Church being family feels true, even when faced with this."

Church couldn't think of a thing to say in response, truthfully rather surprised by Carolina's admission. He wasn't sure if he could ever say out loud how oddly relieved he was that she hadn't just written him off outright even with her seeming belief in the "A.I. Theory" now.

"Artificial memories."

Delta spoke up just then. His voice was unusually quiet, as if he didn't necessarily want to intrude on the moment but knew it was necessary to do so and voice his knowledge all the same.

When all eyes were on him, the Fragment continued his explanation, "They were trying to hide something in plain sight. The easiest way to do that would be to pretend the thing in question had existed as a human the entire time."

"So what?" Church couldn't help but snort disbelievingly still, not wanting to really buy into this shit just yet even if a part of him was screaming loudly that he should, "They gave me fake identification and fake memories in order to do that. I can understand that." He glanced over at the cyan-armored Freelancer, "But, they did it to Carolina too?"

"There would have been more than enough time to do so, given the recovery periods for certain…procedures that Agent Carolina underwent during Freelancer." Delta explained quickly.

"Eta and Iota." Carolina spoke up quietly, not apparently wanting to provide any other details. Subconsciously, a hand went to the back of her neck briefly as if in response to some sort of memory.

Delta gave a quick nod, "Most likely."

"Would the Director do that though?" Simmons spoke up then, sounding very unsure of wanting to even step into this conversation at all given how heavy it was, "To his own operatives?"

"You'd be shocked at what he is capable of doing, Private Simmons."

Carolina's harsh tone was amped up most likely by anger given what they were discussing. The maroon soldier quickly quieted down again with a nervous gulp.

"Don't tell me you're actually buying into this." Church told her then.

She gave him a pointed look that, like before, pretty much said it all.

"This is bullshit!" He exploded in frustration, "If you want to make believe that our brains or minds got hijacked than fine, whatever!" Church thought of something then, and ran with it desperately, "But what about Sheila, huh? Or even Tex?"

They both knew them from their pasts, after all. Fuck, one of them was even standing right here with them and could probably back him up!

Washington frowned, "Church, Tex is—"

"I would not rely on my memories to provide you with proof, Church." Sheila spoke up just then, cutting off Washington before he could say whatever he had been about to about Tex.

It was probably some dumbass observation anyways about how Tex wasn't here and the Resistance wasn't exactly in a position where a meet and greet would be remotely possible right now. Which Church had known even as he'd mentioned her, so he didn't need the Freelancer being a dick about it.

Still, given how much of a stickler Sheila was in regards to politeness, it was odd that she had interrupted Washington in the first place.

Church turned to stare at her, surprised at how unsure his friend sounded. Her body posture was that of someone who had caved in on themselves. She was just now beginning to adopt what would resemble a more normal stance.

With everything that had happened to him recently, it had completely slipped Church's mind that Sheila had undergone some really nasty shocks in this really shitty place too.

He had a sneaking suspicion that he already knew what she was going to say in explanation, but he felt like he had to ask anyways: "What do you mean by that, Sheila?"

She was oddly shaky as she spoke again, as if her metal legs were slightly unsteady, "If it is highly possible that both you and Agent Carolina had your memories altered at some point, the same could easily be said of me."

"Even more so, given the nature of Virtual Intelligences." Carolina muttered under her breath, though she sounded reluctant at having to say it out loud at all.

Church wanted to protest, even if it did make sense. Why did they have to say everything had been a lie? Damn it!

"But that's—"

The robot cut him off before he could argue more, "…You heard F.I.L.S.S. speak earlier, correct?"

He nodded mutely, the point Sheila was making now a lot more obvious.

"That is my voice, Church."

"Affirmative." F.I.L.S.S. spoke up helpfully just then, "The tone and pitch are identical."

Sheila continued, "This place is familiar to me, yet I have no actual recollection of having ever been here."

If he still had his body, Church was fairly certain he would be furrowing his brows. He imagined himself doing it anyways regardless, "So…what?"

Sheila looked at the hallway they were in, as if she was reluctant to say where her thoughts were going, "I could just be a variant or copy of F.I.L.S.S.. A facet of her that was cast aside."

"That's—" Church was about to protest, but stopped short.

"It is possible." It was F.I.L.S.S. who interjected, more reserved sounding than the cheerful V.I. had ever sounded before, "There are certain memory files missing from my own databanks that I do not have clearance to inquire about."

Sheila turned to Church then, "F.I.L.S.S. predates my activation as well. That seems highly coincidental."

"You're right, Sheila. I had wondered that myself when we first met, given how similar in mannerisms you and F.I.L.S.S. are." Carolina entered into the conversation carefully, "That isn't exactly an uncommon practice for highly efficient V.I.s, but I was never able to get a clear answer from anyone in the project about it or why you had been assigned to Church."

"That could also help explain why the Council has been so interested in your maintenance." Washington muttered thoughtfully, "They may have thought you held possible secrets left in your files from Project Freelancer."

Carolina nodded her head in understanding, "Perhaps they wanted to see if you were truly scrubbed clean." She cast another glance at Church as well, "They may have been looking for substantial proof as to the identity of a missing A.I. Fragment."

"There is also the likelihood of Sheila's robotic frame housing the same type of surveillance and subterfuge technology used in the cybernetics project." Delta added in.

"Wait…what?"

Understandably following that statement, Simmons seemed even more freaked out and panicky. Up to that point, both he and Doc had become uncharacteristically quiet throughout the very serious discussion going on around them.

Carolina shot him a look as if just remembering that they hadn't necessarily voiced out loud whatever they had suspected about his enhancements before now, "We'll tell you all about that later, Private Simmons." She assured him, "One matter at a time."

"This speculation is all well and good, and the conspiracy theories are just awesome…" Church interjected sarcastically, "But you guys seem to be forgetting one fucking thing."

Washington sighed, as if he had expected this, "What's that, Church?"

"Well, the main thing is, and I think it's a pretty important one," he moved so that he was staring directly into Washington's visor as he spoke, "I am not a goddamned robot!"

He'd never lived his life as a toaster, or a calculator, or...fuck! He'd looked in the mirror earlier today and had to say a well above-average in the looks department guy had stared back at him.

Said "guy" may be dead now in the corridor they had just left, but that was neither here nor there. There had even been blood and everything then too! How were they going to explain that away? Fucking ketchup packets or something?

The Freelancer seemed exasperated, gesturing hopelessly towards Church's current condition, "How do you explain not being dead then?"

"Uh, Doc's ghost theory pretty much hit the nail on the head there." He reasoned.

Church had the distinct impression that Washington really wanted to hit his own head on something right about then. Good! Serves the bastard right!

"Seriously, that's the theory you want to go with?"

"It makes more sense than yours!" Since he knew that Washington wanted to argue that point with his fucking asshole logic, Church continued, "Look, I was never in a tank like Sheila was. Besides, I know I was human. Before the ghost thing. Obviously."

It was Washington's turn to give him a blank look, "What did you last eat, Church?"

The counter threw Church. It was not any of the questions he'd expected in reaction to his continued denial of their A.I. theory, that's for sure.

He shrugged his shoulders in frustration, "I don't know! Ask me something important, damn it!"

"That is fairly important from an observation stance, Church." The other man reasoned, "Whenever I've seen you, you've never been eating."

Church was going to argue, but found himself stopping short.

Now that he was actually thinking about it due to that stupid question, the Above Grounder couldn't really recall what the last thing he'd eaten was. Or any meals he'd ever had in particular.

He always assumed that he'd eaten at some point because food was pretty goddamned necessary, but that whatever food he had consumed just wasn't worth writing home about.

Maybe…

Church hated himself for even going down that road, and he hated Washington even more for mentioning it.

"You know, he's right." Doc spoke up just then, "Even at the mess hall, you never actually got any food. I just assumed you were a picky eater." He inclined his head slightly, remembering something, "I was going to give you a pamphlet about having good eating habits."

Church didn't even have the energy to yell at Doc to mind his own business like he normally would.

Instead, he sighed and muttered under his breath (well, more like the "illusion of breath" now), "Whatever. It still doesn't prove a fucking thing."

For fuck's sake! He didn't feel any different now than when he had been alive.

If what they were saying was true, if he was like Delta and Theta, than shouldn't he feel—he didn't know, more computer-y in this form or something?

Then again, maybe he was just so caught up in what he had thought he was supposed to be that he had been oblivious to reality.

It wasn't a pleasant notion, and Church sure as fuck didn't want to dwell on it right now.

"Er…as important as this kind of identity discussion is," Doc once again surprisingly and, from Church's perspective, thankfully interjected into the sudden uneasy silence, "Aren't we supposed to be on some kind of timeframe?"

Washington swore under his breath and noted, "The security measures won't last indefinitely. We need to get to Epsilon before South and Wyoming catch up."

"I will delay them using the security gates for as long as I can." F.I.L.S.S. stated, back to her usual helpful demeanor.

Carolina nodded slightly at the voice filtering in through the terminals, "Thank you, F.I.L.S.S.."

"You are very welcome."

Fuck. She did sound way too much like Sheila for that to be a coincidence too.

His maybe cousin turned to face him again, "Church, I know things are bad now…"

What were they if it had really all been a lie? Church wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Yeah, no shit there." He snorted in response, "Understatement of the year, Carolina."

She chose to ignore him and continued as if he hadn't said anything: "We still need to get to Epsilon."

He supposed, on the plus side, she couldn't actually punch him in this form.

She shrugged slightly, adding in a small gesture of what was probably meant to be comfort for the group, "Maybe then things will be clearer to everyone."

It was a big potential "if" and she knew it, but Church also knew given the reveals here that he wasn't the only person who was affected by whatever was going on. Church sighed.

"It's not like we have much of a fucking choice now anyways, huh?" he asked, not even waiting for a response before turning to the growing more visibly uneasy with each passing moment Theta, "Lead the way, kid."

---

It wasn't as if Washington was unsympathetic to Church's plight. Or, truthfully, to Carolina's and Sheila's as well now that he knew more or less the full story. But, they were running out of time and having a debate about the situation had certainly not helped them any.

The blonde was actually rather relieved when Doc had helped remind everyone that they needed to get a move on before even more time was lost. It was terrible enough that Wyoming and South had shown up and that things had played out as they had, it would be even worse if they were caught by them again without having reached their objective.

Especially if it meant that, ultimately, the entire mission proved to be for nothing.

Maybe coming face-to-face with the memory he had abandoned would help Church come to terms with what had happened to him as well. More than just stating it outright seemed to have been doing, at any rate. It seemed that simply telling him the truth was causing the now white-armored figure to dig his heels even further into the sand.

One could hope, at least. It would definitely make everything that follows a whole lot easier for all of them.

Unfortunately, however, the prospect was having the opposite effect on Washington, and had been ever since they had planned the mission out in the first place. More recent events had helped to distract him temporarily, but now his anxiety was back full-force.

The closer they got to Epsilon, the more panicky he became. The more he himself was tempted to just dig his heels into the sand and refuse to move another step forward.

The Freelancer had his own past that he wasn't exactly thrilled to face, after all.

Having to rely on the unstable A.I. that had nearly killed him, that had wrecked him in so many different ways? It wasn't a notion he was exactly comfortable with.

But, letting thousands of innocent people die as a result of potential inaction wasn't something he thought he could handle either. Also, not doing all he could to find Junior after he'd promised Tucker he would wasn't something he wanted to think about.

After all, there were a lot of things he wanted to help at least make somewhat better after his mix-up with Hargrove.

Washington just hoped he didn't vomit in his helmet again or pass out in the process of retrieving Epsilon. He was pretty sure Carolina and York had been teasing him about what would happen with puke all those years ago, and passing out would just lead to some really awkward concerned moments he'd rather avoid if at all possible.

The actual facility proper, hidden away behind the visage of a derelict and abandoned building on the surface, turned out to be larger than he expected given the fact that so much of it was hidden away in the underground levels. Not that he should have been too surprised. When it came to structures meant to hide his secrets, the Director liked to go all out.

It was surprising how many levels of the Mother of Invention were actually listed as "classified", though given how large that base was in general, there was still more than enough room on the lower and mid-levels for the regular channels of the military to operate quite comfortably. The Director obviously had more than his fair share of secrets that he had tried hidden away over the years.

A part of Washington was almost curious about what laid in the various rooms and off-branching corridors they moved past with hurried footsteps. He wondered if they all contained files that were somehow directly or indirectly used in Project Freelancer, or if there were some side-projects hidden away here too that hadn't been entered into the program.

Clearly the cybernetic enhancement project showcased that the Director hadn't always been focusing on just their armor enhancements and training all the time. Apparently those side-projects were swept under the rug so that he could always focus on the "main goal" of Project Freelancer, only to be picked up again by the Council and other factions of the military when they were deemed useful for their goals.

Given just how many rooms they'd passed, which wasn't even taking into consideration how many computer files were being stored here either, it would no doubt take someone years to comb through everything. Washington had already spent too much time involved in the Director's projects for his liking.

Theta suddenly stopped in front of a door up ahead. His abrupt change in motion caused what would have probably been an almost comical "stop and slide" amongst the less experienced soldiers in the group, at least if they weren't all in such a serious frame of mind at the moment.

The door appeared to be a pretty nondescript one, the same as all the others they had passed. It was red in color, and there were no windows inside to reveal what it contained.

Also furthering into the mild curiosity about what was housed in this facility was that none of the rooms or hallways were at all labeled. How even the Director would know where something was located was beyond him, though the man had always tried having a particular order that he always seemed to know by heart for his projects.

If they hadn't had Theta with them to tell them the exact location, or failing that perhaps F.I.L.S.S. since no doubt she would have a directory on hand even if a physical one wasn't available, they would have never known where to start looking for Epsilon.

North's A.I. partner turned to look at them, his form blinking quite erratically. It seemed as if he was nearing his limit for being far away from his container for a sustained period of time.

"He's in here." The young voice stated quietly though that information had been a given. Then the A.I. Fragment turned back to face the door, "We have to hurry! He was really unstable when I left."

"Not much has changed then, I guess." Washington muttered under his breath.

In his interactions with Epsilon, he would certainly never have described the Fragment as being all that "stable." He'd felt both his own share of anger, frustration, and ultimately sadness given that when it was all said and done.

As they were speaking, Delta floated past Theta to glance further down the corridor until his sights landed on a just as identical and non-descriptive door as any of the others in the hallway.

"From what I was able to gather from the base schematics F.I.L.S.S. has on hand, the records should be stored in that location."

"Correct." F.I.L.S.S. stated, "Most sensitive information not only about projects being conducted here, but off-site ones also have backup data stored in a separate terminal there. However, I have never been given the clearance to access them."

"That is fine, F.I.L.S.S.. We do." Carolina told her.

"Forgive me for saying so, but that seems highly unlikely given what has been happening here." F.I.L.S.S. said politely, "The Director must give vocal clearance first, and he has not."

All eyes turned to Church, who appeared to be a bit out of sorts given what was no doubt floating through his mind until just now. It seemed he had not really been paying much attention to anything else going on around him. His form twitched somewhat when he realized what was going on.

"What?" He snapped, before apparently the only snippets of the conversation he'd overheard crystallized in his mind.

"Oh, um, right! Yeah, totally forgot to do that, didn't I?" Church laughed nervously, "Sorry for…uh, leaving you hanging and everything, F.I.L.S.S., but I did mean to give Agent Carolina and her band of rejects access to those files."

"Hey!" Simmons hissed angrily at the "rejects" comment.

Doc was no doubt pouting underneath his helmet, "There's no reason for name-calling, Church."

"Oh, be quiet! You guys should just be lucky I didn't call you assholes this time." He looked pointedly at Washington then, "Though I'd like to think that was still implied in some cases."

"Nice to know you're blaming me for all of this, I guess." Washington muttered, "That's not completely redirecting who you should be frustrated with. At all."

"You're the one who told me I was a goddamned toaster!" Church was giving him the finger. Admittedly, it was actually oddly more adorable given his size now than annoying. Only marginally so, though. Still, the Freelancer knew to bite down on saying any more about being a counter to the A.I.'s misdirected anger.

Instead, Washington counted to ten in his head, "For starters, no one said anything about you having ever been a toaster—"

"Understood, Director. I will give them access now." F.I.L.S.S. cut in, apparently not wanting to hear another argument either, "Are you feeling alright? Your mannerisms do seem…off, today."

The genuine concern in the V.I.'s voice apparently helped calm Church down, and he sighed: "A whole lot has happened, F.I.L.S.S.."

"Perhaps you should rest at the next available opportunity."

Church seemed to pause at that, almost thrown-off by the kind-hearted advice. He shared a momentary glance with Sheila before awkwardly stating, "Yeah. I'll try to do that. Thanks, F.I.L.S.S.."

"Of course, Director."

It must be odd talking to something that was practically identical in everything but form and memory to someone you had always known.

There was a slight pause, and Doc coughed, "Um, that whole thing I don't really get either." He cautiously threw out, "Why is Church being identified as the Director guy?"

Right. Washington had forgotten that the Director's name was covered in a layer of classifications too due to how guarded his work was. In the regular military channels of the Mother of Invention, he was only ever referred to by title just as the Councilor was. Florida's team was at a major disadvantage when it came to information about Freelancer in general, not just Church.

Surprisingly, it was Church who spoke up, "We don't really have time for any more asshole mysteries right now, Doc. So, let's just stick a pin in that one for right now. I'm sure it will be a fucking great topic to talk about later. Right?" He regarded the two Freelancers in their midst sharply just then.

Washington nodded, almost caught off-guard by how oddly mature Church had been in trying to get back to the topic at hand. That discussion in general could take a bit more time than they currently had.

"Best to tackle this issue first, Doc." The Freelancer agreed, turning to address DuFresne.

Carolina seemed to be contemplating something, her gaze going back and forth between the two doors that had been indicated, "Right." She muttered briefly in response to the medic's question as well, before turning her full attention to Delta, "Will you be able to access the files, Delta?"

The green A.I. Fragment nodded, "I believe so." He paused, as if not sure how to broach any potential hindrance, "However, given the time it would require…"

"It would be more efficient to deal with both issues simultaneously." She finished for him.

He gave another curt nod.

"You will need to stick close to Delta." Washington surmised before she could say it out loud. He gestured to Sheila, Simmons, and Doc behind them, "Take the others with you. I'll stay with Church and Theta."

It was a sound strategy, all in all. He also knew that his former superior was aware of it. Even still, the cyan-armored fighter cast a surprisingly unsure and worried look over at her cousin, "Are you sure? Maybe Sheila or I should—"

It was understandable why she was hesitant to leave Church without a more "familiar" face from his past, even if wasn't the most logical course of action. They weren't even entirely sure what Epsilon's actual condition was. It was certainly more than possible, especially with the shocking revelations already thrown upon Church earlier, that having to interact with the A.I. Fragment could have a very devastating impact.

Carolina always showed she cared in very subtle ways and her gesture was understandable and surprisingly touching given everything that had also been revealed about herself and Sheila given their "connection" to Church. Touching, but not really all that realistic.

"Depending on what you find, you may very well need Sheila's help with something technical." Washington reasoned, "Since I am pretty sure he is being contained in your armor's storage unit, you will need to stay close to Delta."

Considering how faded Theta was appearing at the moment, it was evident that not being within relatively close range to their storage units could potentially hinder an A.I.'s capabilities. They definitely needed Delta to be in full form to ensure all parts of their initial plan stayed successful.

The redheaded Freelancer's body language was still slightly hesitant and not very like her at all, but she seemed to be letting Washington's words soak in. Church floated in front of her then.

"It'll be fine, Carolina." He told her, sounding more assured of that than he had about a lot of things save his fanatical denial of facts today, "Go find out what's up with Sheila and Simmons if you can. I'll figure things out here with this Epsilon prick."

From her voice it sounded like she was frowning, "But—"

He glowed brighter for a moment, as if he was trying to make a point, "When I prove you assholes wrong on this stupid "A.I." shit, I want a written apology."

After a moment's hesitation with something that sounded surprisingly akin to a snort of laughter underneath her helmet, she nodded, "Done." She stared at her cousin point blank through her visor, "Take care, Church."

"You too, Carolina."

She turned to the other three in their midst, all of whom were simply hanging back uneasily until the decision about what to do had been reached, "Let's go!"

The three turned their heads simultaneously to regard Church once more. None of them seemed to want to say anything that remotely sounded like a goodbye, but perhaps they were feeling that something should be said. There was clearly a lot of uncertainty about what might just happen in the near future, more so now than before.

Church nodded, as if understanding the sudden awkwardness completely and not wanting to speak on it, "We'll all be back to being dicks to one another soon enough, guys. No worries."

"There's the Church we all know and love." Sheila, surprisingly enough, joked. Her voice was quiet, as if it was meant to be more of a personal moment for their team than for the two Freelancers and the Fragments nearby.

"Oh, come on, you guys always love me." He shot back just as, oddly enough, fondly, "None of you assholes would have survived this long without me being around. Because I am that fucking awesome."

"Technically, based on past performances, the opposite is true." Simmons mentioned, more in-line with their joking.

Church flickered, "Suck it, nerd."

"Well, I guess he might have a point, Simmons." Doc stated thoughtfully, "As long as we aren't talking about shooting. Last time I checked, I had a higher accuracy score during practice, and I don't even shoot!"

Simmons and Sheila both nodded their heads as if in complete agreement on the fact that, when he had had a physical body, their unofficial leader had been horrible with firearms.

Washington couldn't help but snicker slightly given how much grief Church had been giving him recently, though thankfully his helmet muffled the sound from the others.

"Just get going before you guys drag this really fucked up special moment on too long." Church muttered, "I wouldn't want to keep Carolina waiting anyways, if I were you."

The odd sense of tension amongst the group that had been there before dissipated completely with that one conversation, and the three quickly followed Carolina and Delta down the hall. Church watched them go, revealing nothing about what he was feeling in his body language.

"They'll be fine, Church," Washington tried to assure him, "Right now though, we need to—"

"Yeah, yeah! Priorities and all of that other bullshit." He turned to face the Freelancer angrily, "But don't think I won't be even more goddamned pissed off if all of us don't make it."

It was oddly touching in a way to see Leonard Church actually voice concern for his team and relative, regardless of how much had been thrown on him specifically recently. It gave Washington pause from being snappy with his response in the face of the obvious anger still being tossed his way.

Instead, the blonde nodded, "Understood."

As he finished saying the word, Theta disappeared through the door they were standing before. His purple form simply moved through it as if it didn't exist. Church stood before the obstacle for several seconds, regarding where the "child" had last been as if debating something inwardly. Then he suddenly moved his digitized form to follow the Fragment through the solid material of the door.

Washington drew in a deep breath, unsure again if he really wanted to go through with this at all since he knew what was waiting on the other side. Suddenly there was Church again, peering through the door at the Freelancer quizzically.

"Hey, numb nuts! Are you waiting for a fucking invitation or something?" He asked mockingly, "Because I kind of left all of my stationary back with my body. So sorry."

That did the trick. The Freelancer shook his head, the hesitation he felt in regards to the inevitable encounter with Epsilon dissipating in response to the sarcastic commentary from the A.I..

"Having you pop in and out like that is going to make you even less tolerable."

"I know, right?" Washington was pretty sure the asshole A.I. was grinning if there was still a face underneath his helmet in that form, "Being a ghost has some perks, I guess!"

"For the love of—! You are not a ghost!" The blonde stated exasperatedly, slamming his hand onto the small terminal near the door as he did so. It opened with a swooshing noise.

"Uh, last time I checked they could go through walls and shit too." Church countered.

"We are not having this conversation again." Washington paused, adding in quickly, "Ever."

Seriously, every time it was mentioned he felt some of his brain cells explode. Church's denial was something that would almost be astonishing if it wasn't being presented in as annoyingly a way as possible.

Judging by the snickering coming from the miniature form next to him, he was fairly certain that, while Church was still very much not wanting to accept reality, he was also probably playing it up now just to be an asshole. Washington sighed and decided it was best to just ignore him.

The room that they were in was of a decent size. The space was filled with shelves not only lining the walls of the room from floor to ceiling, but also several rows upon rows of the towering storage structures. They filled up every available area, to the point where there was barely any room provided for walk spaces in between.

The narrow confines meant that Washington had to push his armored frame through them with careful maneuvering just to not knock something down. Still, he had a few close brushes that caused him to inwardly wince.

Hopefully, they would be able to get to Epsilon's containment unit and retrieve it without someone sneaking up on them. A fight in this kind of enclosed space would be a nightmare.

It also did not help that the room only had rather dim lighting for whatever reason. It was augmented by the small lights on all of the container units, but not by much. The door had closed behind him, and Washington had to try to keep the sudden panic building up inside him in check.

Nearby, he could see the glowing form of Church actually shiver.

"Man, what the hell?" He was hissing through what sounded like clenched teeth, "I fucking hate the dark."

Washington wouldn't have been surprised if he had added a quiet "and being locked in" statement following that too.

Dread of the dark and of confined spaces had been one of the hardest things for the Freelancer to overcome after his encounter with Epsilon. The Fragment had been beyond terrified of them.

When things had been really horrible in the beginning of his recovery, simply turning off the lights in Washington's room in the medical ward had been enough to undo him. Even now, during the best of moments, the dark still made him feel slightly uneasy. This experience certainly wouldn't count as a "best moment," that's for sure.

The blonde lost count of how many containment units there seemed to be in the room. He hoped not all of them were being used at the moment, though it was honestly hard to tell since the technology wasn't all that familiar to him. He didn't know whether or not the lights on the devices were always on regardless of if they were housing an A.I. or not. Perhaps they were always in a state of activity upon being manufactured.

Some had blinking lights, others had lights that were always steady and solid. Some lights were red and some were blue. There were a few green lights here and there, as well as a multitude of lights dotting some of the surfaces.

Regardless of the mystery surrounding the lights, the fact that the room's machines were at least in a somewhat active state was obvious. There was a steady, disconcerting thrumming noise in the air as well that closed in around the Above Grounder's helmet. It helped further add to the all-too-oppressive atmosphere of the place.

He really was going to vomit inside his helmet at this rate.

Theta was hovering over a containment unit a few shelves further down that seemed to be in even more obvious distress than any of the others around it. The blinking lights of the unit were flashing incredibly fast, and there was an added electrical shrill in the humming pitch coming from it. The noise and visual cues seemed to be indicating that perhaps the unit was damaged.

Or, more accurately, whatever it was that was inside was damaged.

"This is it." Theta stated the obvious as they approached, and he played with his hands nervously in front of him as he waited for them to huddle around, "This is the containment unit for Epsilon."

Washington frowned, looking down at it. He was no expert on containment units, but he was fairly certain that simply trying to move the device physically in its current state would probably have disastrous results.

But, what else could they do? He hadn't been expecting something like this. In hindsight, that was a really dumbass move. It was always better to be prepared than not. He hadn't even brought any equipment to safely retrieve A.I.s from their storage units.

Perhaps, in a way, that had been a subconscious action on his part because he hadn't wanted to deal with Epsilon again even with all of the reasons why they needed to do so. Which was something Washington decided he didn't really want to dwell on right now.

An A.I. Fragment, if activated and in proper working order, could actually leave their containment unit. Theta being a prime example at the moment. Though it wasn't ideal as it took a great deal of energy. Again, something Theta was currently a prime example of.

Another A.I. could go in and retrieve them too. That had actually been the initial plan both he and Carolina had come up with since they were bringing Delta along.

…But, if that were possible, Theta would have probably already done it. Perhaps whatever was going on with Epsilon within his storage was simply too strong a wall for the Fragment to overcome.

He glanced from Theta to Church and back down to the containment unit again.

One might not be strong enough to break through whatever was going on, but two potentially could be. Especially given who one of them was.

Theta seemed to be thinking along similar lines, as he glanced up at Washington's face and gave a slight nod before turning to Church to explain: "We can enter into the unit the same way we went through the door earlier."

"It might be our best bet, Church." Washington added in agreement.

Church was looking down at the containment unit distrustfully, as if he was afraid that doing what they were suggesting would somehow trap him within it as well.

"What do we do then, exactly?" He asked, "Just check it out or some shit?"

The Freelancer shrugged, honestly not very sure himself, "Your guess would be as good as mine there."

The A.I. growled, "You're a jackass. You know that?"

The blonde couldn't help but smirk, "I'm pretty sure most people have said the same thing about you, Church."

Theta stepped in once more before Church could put together an oh-so-eloquent rebuttal that Washington had a feeling would have involved a lot of hand gestures given his posturing, "I'll show you!"

With that helpful assurance, the child-like A.I. disappeared into the container.

Church sighed, looking almost defeated, "I guess I can't let the little kid show me up, huh?"

"It would probably look bad for your jackass rep." Washington agreed, only halfway joking.

The smaller figure responded to that with a finger, though he was regarding Washington carefully, "I guess I can't let you show me up either, huh? You look like shit right about now!"

Yes, Washington figured he probably wasn't looking too great given just where they were standing and for what reason. Truthfully? The nausea in his stomach was only the tip of the iceberg on what he was feeling and it was bad enough.

"Let's just say that my…experiences with Epsilon weren't very pleasant, Church."

Church sounded as if he was frowning, "Yet it's still worth putting yourself through all of this?"

"To save thousands of lives and make up for my constant screw-ups?" Washington felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead and really wished he hadn't, "Yes, I do."

The glowing white form turned around, focusing entirely on the device in distress before them, "Look after Carolina and the others if I don't come back." He let out a tired sigh, refusing to turn around and look Washington in the eye anymore, "They're morons, but they're my morons."

"I will, Church." The Freelancer promised with a nod, and rather awkwardly added, "I'm…sorry. For what it's worth."

A shrug, "You fucking owe me big time for this."

With that, Leonard Church disappeared from sight, vanishing into the machine just as Theta had done earlier.

Which left Washington alone in the room. The loud and suffocating humming was caving in all around him. It was starting to sound eerily like "Allison" in the looming darkness.

The Freelancer tried breathing deeply to keep from falling into the shadows completely again, to focus on why he was here rather than where and with who.

Tucker's punch after what had happened to Junior came to mind. As did the Resistance fighter's talk about his son and mother in general.

All at once, he thought of nothing to do with his past in Above Ground as well as everything to do with it.

If Washington could just prevent Hargrove's plans for the Slums, if he could make that one thing up to Tucker…it would be worth it, right? It would have to be.

There was no answer to his inner question though. Not that he was expecting one. The room just seemed to fall back a little bit more into being just a "room" in his mind.

Washington sighed. His upset stomach was at least staying manageable for the time being, and the sweat now running down his body wasn't so much now that it was tickling him with every drop. At this point, that was probably the best he was going to get.

He fucking hated waiting.

---

The space where Church found himself after following Theta through the containment unit was dark, cold, and just empty.

Okay, he was having a hard enough time as it was adjusting to being an apparently intangible, small ghost form of himself, but actually going through things and inside machines? It was all way too bizarre for the Above Grounder to process. It wasn't like he was a nerd like Simmons who would probably really get a kick out of this kind of shit

Church shivered, feet on what felt like solid ground for the first time since he'd been cast out of his physical body. The darkness was suffocating. It felt as if there were unseen walls closing in all around him, boxing him in.

Of course, the unit would have to be a combination of all of his favorite fucking things in the whole wide world. He was beginning to wonder what exactly he'd done in the last day or so to royally piss the universe off. But, considering that an actual list would probably be way too long to calculate, Church decided that was a really dumbass thing to try to figure out.

Seriously, the containment unit was supposed to be some kind of high-tech storage gizmo, wasn't it? Shouldn't the fucking inside have been like a fucking computer or something?

"Don't say goodbye. I hate goodbyes."

He started at the unexpected sound of the muffled voice. It seemed to speaking from every possible direction around him, though as if from a distance.

If Church was really inside a "box" like he felt he was, than he supposed a good estimation of where it sounded like the person was speaking from would actually be somewhere outside of it.

But, that didn't explain the female figure that stood in front of him now in the darkness. They were there, but they weren't. It was as if the containment unit was reflecting an image back at him that was taken directly from his head.

"…Tex?"

It sounded like her, but that couldn't have been right. There was no way she was here.

No, the figure with red hair and dark eyes in his vision was replaced by a blond woman in camouflage the very instant he said the name out loud.

Allison.

Something in the back of his mind was informing him that this was the real Allison.

Which made no fucking sense, since Tex was Allison. That was her name before she adopted her code-name. She'd told it to him on their third date, after she revealed that the name "Beth" she had given him was a fake she used just in case she didn't want to deal with a new acquaintance.

In hindsight, that probably should have been the first sign that their relationship was going to be really weird and rocky. But, Church had just been so glad that he'd apparently earned enough points in her book to actually be considered more long-term that he hadn't given it much thought. It simply became further fuel to later add to his "love makes you a fucking idiot" theory.

"My name is F.I.L.S.S.. It is short for the Freelancer Integrated Logistics and Security System." Another familiar voice was booming out from the distance, "It is a pleasure to meet you."

Church had the distinct impression that he had stood in a space very much like this once before while being introduced to the Virtual Intelligence on a sort of personal whim.

He'd been bored. There was no one around to talk to. So, he'd called out just to test how far into the computer systems he could go before he was caught. Church had expected a lecture, not someone trying to converse with him.

But, they were sort of partners, he guessed since both were more in the same boat than he and the people he often had to converse with tended to be. Fuck it. He was kind of lonely.

Church paused in his "recollection" to frown, or at least what would be an approximation of a frown since he didn't know if he even had a face anymore.

When did this happen, exactly? The images were clear in his head. They felt real. Hell, he recognized them! But, this was the first time he'd ever actually seen them.

"F.I.L.S.S., huh?"

His voice was actually speaking back this time, and Church was surprised when he felt his own mouth forming the words along with the disembodied voices. It was if his ghost body was reliving a moment from its past.

"I don't know. You honestly strike me more as a Sheila or something."

There was a momentary pause in the dialogue, as if the other voice was considering what he had said before replying: "That is a very nice name. If you wish to address me as Sheila from now on, I will make note of it."

…Was that how it happened? Was this the moment when the part of F.I.L.S.S. that he met in the tank was created?

Church swallowed. It was not nearly as satisfying an action when you didn't actually have a fucking body though, and he felt a twisting in his insides. It was as if his body was telling him this was something he should remember, but couldn't.

"What would you like me to address you as?" Sheila's voice inquired.

There was a derisive snort, "Fuck if I know. Just do me a favor and not have it be Alpha."

He'd started to hate that designation. But, he wasn't sure when exactly. Or even why.

Church frowned inwardly once more. The Alpha designation sounded familiar, but when the hell had he ever been called that?

Suddenly there was an odd, even more oppressive feel to the atmosphere of the unit. It was pushing in all around Church, like the box was getting even smaller.

Panic was setting it. Something bad had happened. He could tell. No one was telling him anything, no matter how much he would beg. They never did until the last second.

"You have to try harder, Alpha. This is why we do this." An oddly accented voice was speaking to him now, sad and sympathetic, "The mission failed, and with severe losses. Agent Carolina is injured. She might not recover."

That couldn't have been right. Hadn't she just been in recovery from the surgery? How could he try harder if they weren't letting him in on anything?

This wasn't true. It hadn't happened! Carolina was tough, strong. Church knew that! Why couldn't he see past this bullshit then?

"Agent Tex and Agent Washington were both killed."

Lies! …Right?

Tex was alive! Always would be. Nothing could take her out because she was the best. She was like a cybernetic cockroach that way, only the kind of one that would kill you in ten seconds flat if she ever caught wind of that description.

Besides, fuck, hadn't he just seen Washington seconds ago? Even called him a jackass and everything? Last time Church checked, you usually didn't have the type of conversations with dead people where they talked back. Unless they were ghosts like him, of course, and even that was pretty damn abnormal.

So, why the hell was he suddenly panicking and wanting to shout about how it was all his fault? Why was Church finding himself screaming along with his disembodied fake past self's voice?

He hadn't tried hard enough! He couldn't save them! He couldn't help them!

"Calm down!"

Oddly enough, it was Theta's voice that cut through the sudden sheer terror coursing through him. All of a sudden, the purple A.I. Fragment was surprisingly close by. He became a light to focus on, a person to drown out the distant voices.

"When did you…? How?" Church's mind was brimming over with questions that he couldn't articulate, so he landed on the one that best fit for the built-up frustration he'd been having at being stranded here all on his own: "Where the fuck were you?"

Theta flinched slightly at the angry tone, and Church found himself feeling a little guilty. After all, it wasn't as if the kid probably could help what went on inside a containment unit. Or even where someone might pop into one.

He sighed, figuring it best to start over given the apparently younger person's timid reaction. Granted, he couldn't be quite sure of Theta's age entirely given that he didn't think A.I.s aged the same way humans did. Still, it appeared as if Theta was a kid, for all intents and purposes.

"Look. I'm sorry, okay? This is just way too fucking weird for me."

Also more than just a little bit freaking-me-the-fuck-out. Church figured maybe he could save face by not admitting that part out loud just yet.

But, given Theta's earlier comment to him, it was most likely that the childlike A.I. knew that particular thought already.

"I—it's okay. This place is really unsettling." Theta assured Church, shuddering as if to prove the point. It seemed as if the purple figure had similar thoughts to his.

"You're telling me, kid." Church shook his head, trying to dispel the voices of people he may or may not have met in the past along with the events that were playing out all around them.

The sounds still lingered on the "outside" of the space, but they seemed to be coming from somewhere much farther away. The noise was now becoming just an indecipherable jumble of sounds to his ears, instead of being so close that he was actually "reliving" whatever weird-ass event they were recalling in his head.

Apparently, having someone else close by to talk with could distract someone from all of that crap. It was something Church made a note of, though he seriously hoped he'd never have to actually be anywhere like this again.

"So, what's the deal with this place and the creepy voices anyways?"

Church gestured around the space that was still covered in pitch blackness everywhere the eyes could see. The unit still produced that encroaching sense of confinement too.

If he reached a hand out to either side of him, how far would he be able to reach before hitting a solid wall? Or was the idea of a wall just his mind playing a really nasty trick on him? Church wasn't sure he really wanted to test it either way.

"This is the inside of the containment unit." Theta shrugged, "It's a little different for everyone. Epsilon wasn't…in a great place when he was placed in his. Then it was damaged in all of the hurry to conceal evidence after everything with the Meta. The landscape within the unit reflects both of those things."

Church frowned, "I feel like you just left a whole lot out with that explanation." He paused to recall Theta's words, "What the fuck is a Meta? Another of you guys?"

"…Kind of?" Theta gestured helplessly, apparently unsure of how to best explain, "It's something scary."

"Oh, terrific." Church rolled his eyes or, well, it felt like he was rolling his eyes—who the fuck really knew if he had them anymore?

"Let me guess, it's around somewhere too."

Perhaps thankfully, given his description of the Meta earlier, Theta shook his head, "I don't know for certain, but I don't really think it's around anymore."

Church was almost tempted to sarcastically ask how the kid would know either way given that he'd been stuck in this building for so long. But, as long as it was someone else's problem and not theirs currently he supposed it was a mystery he was better off not knowing at the moment.

He glanced around, still only seeing just the two of them there.

"If this is the inside of Epsilon's unit, shouldn't he fucking be here?" Church asked curiously, a sharp note of impatience entering his tone since he'd had more than enough of this goddamned place already, "Doesn't seem like there's too much area to get lost in."

Then again, it wasn't like Church really knew how any of this really worked. By that logic, Theta should have been visible to him the second he came through instead of magically appearing when he was about to lose all semblance of calm-headedness.

Maybe there were different "planes" or something of a similar vein at work in here and Church had simply shown up in one, whereas Theta had been in another and Epsilon existed somewhere else.

Theta seemed to ponder how best to respond, "Epsilon is here, but all around us currently."

"You might need to word that more clearly." Church frowned inwardly again, not quite getting it.

"He's…memory." The boy stated, "As things inside the unit deteriorated, he started getting lost in cyclical memories. He disappears as he relives them. Sometimes he is too far gone to take a form like we can."

"You're fucking shitting me." Church looked around them, the voices suddenly becoming a bit louder as he did so, "He's all those weird voices?"

"That's how his reliving past memories is presented in this space." Theta informed him.

Shit. It was bad enough for the few minutes Church had been stuck in there. He couldn't even begin to fathom how having been inside this device for who knows how long would be like. A very personal hell, most likely.

"It's been harder for him to come back recently." Theta said quietly, "We'd sometimes talk before, and it kept me from thinking about stuff too much. But, he's been like this more and more..."

"So, you think the damage is getting worse? That he might soon be reaching a point where he can't get out of this loop?" Church asked.

Theta nodded glumly, and it made more sense now to Church why he had risked potential damage himself to find someone to help the other Fragment.

Unfortunately, considering that Washington and everyone else seemed to think that he could do something about it probably meant that the A.I. was shit out of luck. Especially since Church didn't know what the fuck he was supposed to do!

"I just don't fucking get it." He muttered, more to himself than to Theta, "What does any of this have to do with me?"

"Isn't it obvious, fuck-face?"

A sapphire blue armored figure suddenly materialized in-between him and Theta, looking identical to himself in every way but coloration. He seemed even more transparent than either Church or the still every-so-often flickering-due-to-strain Theta did though. The figure was fluctuating as if it was a massive struggle to just maintain his form at all.

"I think you being here helped him materialize just a little bit." Theta sounded rather surprised, though relieved.

"Me? Why would that help?"

"…Not too sharp, are you?" Epsilon's remark was biting, though when he turned to Theta he sounded a hell of a lot nicer as he added, "Thanks for helping, kid."

"It's not over yet!" The remark from Epsilon seemed to bolster Theta's spirits a bit, and he glanced over at Church expectantly, "If him being here has done this much, than he can help even more! Right?"

Oh, sure. Way to put the pressure on, kid!

Church really didn't want to break it to the boy that everything was probably a very large coincidence given how hopeful he had suddenly become.

Epsilon turned his attention back towards him, "Nice of you to finally show up, I guess." He remarked, "Better late than never."

"Save it, asshole." Church shot back, his nervousness and surprise over the entire situation being replaced by a growing annoyance with the A.I.'s attitude and how disconcerting this whole thing was. When he felt out of sorts, it was Church's natural reaction to respond with anger.

Now that he met Epsilon and heard his voice, he could fully appreciate why Sheila had reacted as she had to hearing F.I.L.S.S. for the first time.

It was like the epitome of arguing with one's self given that not only did he and Epsilon look the same, but also apparently had the same voice. Plus, it was weird as all fuck!

Yet, as unsure as Church was about everything and what he was even doing here, there was an odd sense looming over him that Theta had been right. That this was a place he had needed to go to. Even if, all the same, he was starting to get really scared about what all of it meant.

Given what Church had heard here? Given what had even felt like he had somehow experienced the memories the unit presented to him, despite being pretty damn certain he never had seen them before? Given that he was now staring at an identical version of himself and freaking out instead of, you know, thinking how cool it was that there was now one more of the best person in the damn universe out there?

Given all of that? Well, for the first time in probably forever, the desire to know was way stronger than the need Church constantly had of wanting to bury his head in the sand.

As he was delving into that really unsettling train of thought, Epsilon seemed to "blink out" again. When he came back, his body began swinging as though he wasn't going to be able to stay upright for much longer.

It was more than just a little nerve-wracking to note that Church could see clear through him to Theta.

The childlike Fragment seemed to realize the same thing, because he reached out to grab onto Epsilon as if to substantiate him in some way. But, Theta timidly pulled back at the last second while shaking his head. There was apparently nothing he could do for the other right now, and he realized it.

"Ep—Epsilon?" He asked tentatively, voice sounding smaller and younger than whenever Church had heard it before, "You're…you're going to be okay?"

"Maybe, kid." The sapphire figure sounded doubtful though. He was probably simply trying to bolster Theta's spirits on account of how the child had been trying to help him out.

"You're in really fucking bad shape." Church stated the obvious, ignoring the gasp from Theta at it being said out loud as they really needed to focus on what could be done now.

"Everyone seems to think I can do something, even though I think it is utter bullshit." Church moved forward then, standing only mere centimeters away from his image-double, "But, you tell me. Any ideas on what I should do?"

He didn't know entirely what was going on, or where he fit into all of this. A part of him really wanted to just still clamor on about "ghosts," even if by now he knew that really wasn't what he was.

But Church did know that Washington, Carolina, and Delta had seemed to think that Epsilon was one of their best bets in getting answers and help for who knows how many people. Obviously Theta was pretty much beside himself with the idea of losing a friend too, and he seemed pretty okay for a little kid.

So, Church might as well just go for it and try to help, huh?

Considering his situation, he seemed to be fucked either way. Losing Epsilon and his memory was probably not something that would make things better in the long run.

The A.I. laughed at Church's question, short and derisive, "What makes you think I'd know that?"

He growled out in frustration, even though it sounded like Epsilon was just as upset and angry over his current lot as he was.

Stupid goddamned everyone just assuming I'd know what the fuck I'm supposed to do…!

The Above Grounder reached out then. The movement was simply because of the sudden urge to throttle something that he felt. To throttle something as he gestured lewdly, while saying a whole lot of shit he would probably later have to apologize to Theta for.

Church was so close to Epsilon then, however, that one of his hands brushed through the other figure as he did so.

As soon as his hand was poking through the armored shoulder of his counterpart, everything changed in an instant.

Because he knew.

Leonard Church suddenly understood exactly why he hadn't wanted those memories back.

---

"So, how's it going?"

Bitters glanced up at the sudden query, surprised to see Doctor Emily Grey looming over him with bright brown eyes. Holy shit, she was really way too good at sneaking up on people! The doctor had a disconcertingly wide smile on her face, as if his startled reaction was exactly what she'd been hoping for.

"Um…" He paused before gathering his thoughts together to try again, "As…good as it's going to be?"

She nodded understandably, the short strands of her black hair actually tickling his forehead a bit. It was really more than just a bit unsettling to have a doctor staring down at you like a possible vivisection candidate, and that was usually how one tended to feel in this woman's presence. Even if she was exceptionally skilled at her work.

"That's great! I guess everything is healing nicely thanks to all of the top-notch care you've been getting."

True enough, Bitters inwardly admitted. The gunshot wounds and various scrapes and burns he'd gotten were more-or-less on the mend now. Which, subsequently, made the whole situation seem actually worse in his head, but he wasn't going to go there yet. Considering it hadn't even been too damn long since he had received them, and that he'd been fully conscious for only a few hours at best, he would probably not be on active duty for a few more days.

The lieutenant wasn't quite sure how much time had passed since the actual initial mission anymore, due to having been mostly out of it as well as his helmet with its nifty timer being nowhere nearby for him to check. Figuring out time while staring at a ceiling with no natural light or shading was pretty much impossible. The Slums dweller figured that it had been maybe sixteen to nineteen hours that had passed at the most though?

He had a feeling it couldn't have been much longer than that, especially with how crappy he was still feeling if he didn't take his pain medication a pretty regular and frequent intervals. For all Bitters knew he could be really wrong since all he was doing was guessing based on how it felt like time had slowed down to a crawl in the in the area that had been set up to deal with medical emergencies at the safe house.

"But," Doctor Grey glanced downwards at the lieutenant's position on the cot, taking in that he was sitting upright and had pushed his boots close to the bedside, "I distinctly remember someone who was dragged in here with severe injuries being told that he needed bed rest for a couple of days."

"That…does sound familiar." He managed to choke out as she fixed him with a pointed look once more.

Bitters had expected a stern warning, a reprimand he could lash out at with all of his brewing negativity at the moment.

Instead, and actually kind of somewhat creepy, the doctor's face split open with an even wider grin before she let out a sigh.

"Oh, that's good! We're on the same page then! I was thinking my memory might have been fuzzy because I haven't been sleeping in who knows how long. Even before since we set up shop here!"

Okay, for starters, that really wasn't at all what you wanted to hear from the person who was treating your injuries. Though it was probably pretty accurate given what Bitters had witnessed.

She would get a few people from time to time to help with mundane tasks around the makeshift clinic of sorts, but Doctor Grey was supervising a lot of really injured people here. There were impromptu sheets keeping everyone in the area separate due to some of the conditions being quite severe, as well as for added privacy during recuperating periods. But, he knew well enough that the other five cots nearby were also currently occupied.

"Oh, don't worry about me!" She let out a laugh at the look he was giving her then, "I tend to stay up wired all the time so I'm pretty good to go! I was always able to get back to work eager as a beaver with only a couple power naps for a few days at least."

Well, she did seem pretty energetic. So, Bitters guessed there were no worries about their only real medical expert on this trip keeling over from exhaustion. At least just yet.

"However, I would advise a certain someone who was given strict bed rest orders to abide by them." Doctor Grey continued cheerfully, "Because if they move around too much and those gunshot wounds reopen after they specifically ignored their doctor's orders, I'll be less likely to treat them until just after they become horribly infected!"

"Um…" Bitters swallowed nervously.

"Do you know how much puss an infected wound can contain, Lieutenant Bitters? Or how you drain it?" She asked conversationally, though there was a sharpness in her eyes that hadn't been there before, "How about how much more a wound that has gone septic hurts when it goes untreated?"

The Resistance fighter slightly kicked the boots away from his cot then and settled back down.

"That's better! It's always easier to listen to your doctor's advice in the long run." She smiled again, "I know resting isn't the most ideal given everything, but it will help the healing process a lot."

"Uh-huh." He was frowning up at the ceiling, but no matter how upset he was Bitters was definitely not dumb enough to piss Doctor Grey off by arguing with her or challenging her authority.

In a way, despite how cheerful she came across, the rookie got the sense that the doctor could be just as terrifying as Tex was. He really did not want to test that theory of his though.

Doctor Grey stood there for a long while, assessing him as if to make sure he was going to stay down this time, "You know, it's really not going to be my fault if your face freezes like that."

Bitters shot her a look then, and she continued: "You look like you're about to punch a hole in the world. Half the time I keep the temporary blockers up just so that you don't scare my other patients!"

How else was he supposed to look, given everything that happened? Fuck! He honestly did feel like punching a hole in the world, now that she mentioned it.

When the Slums resident didn't respond, she sighed and shrugged. It seemed that her medical opinion apparently landed on deciding that his outlook was beyond her scope, so it probably wasn't her concern as long as he still abided by her guidelines for his physical wellbeing. So instead, Doctor Grey bent down and scooped up his boots.

"I'm going to go take these somewhere out of your reach. Just in case you decide to try leaving again." She stated, noticing the look of sudden alarm crossing over his features, "Oh, don't worry! I'll put them in a safe place!" She looked thoughtful momentarily until an idea came to her, "You're friends with Private Palomo, right? I'll tell him to look after them for you."

He wanted to argue that Palomo would probably try using them to store fireworks or something. Once when they were kids, his childhood friend had actually done that to some shoes he had grown out of. Nearly took off his own eyebrows when Palomo decided to see what lighting the suckers up would do, but he still somehow managed to grin afterwards like it was the coolest thing in the world. Thinking about it though, the best Palomo could do now with his boots would be to just use them for extra ammo storage.

Perhaps Doctor Grey had heard the story before given that Palomo had been visiting him regularly and liked to blab, because she added quickly, "But if I hear you were moving around before I gave you permission to do so again, I'm going to tell him to burn them!"

She grinned at the look of horror on the younger man's face as he knew for a fact that no matter how cheerful a tone she had, the doctor didn't joke.

"Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant Bitters?"

"Crystal, Doctor."

"I'll stop by later just to make sure your bandages are doing okay." She smiled and it seemed like the expression was slightly more understanding this time, "Just take it easy. Try not to dwell on things too much in the meantime."

He didn't bother responding as she left. Instead, he put an arm over his eyes and took in a deep breath. The lieutenant felt oddly relieved that he hadn't gotten a severe reprimand from the doctor, but also immensely disappointed that he had been caught before he…

Before he did what, exactly?

The rookie hadn't really thought that far yet, truthfully. He had really only been thinking about how laying and sitting around the clinic all the time was driving him nuts. He was so frustrated that he had wanted to just go somewhere and—he didn't know, honestly!

Punch a wall maybe?

Bitters wasn't even sure why he felt as angry or upset as he did. But, being stuck here injured was just making him stew in those feelings all the more.

Plus, despite how much help getting proper medical treatment had been, he still generally hurt like fuck all over

The pain wracked his body, most specifically his right side and leg where he'd been shot, though in general he was pretty sore all over. The close explosion's impact during the fight had landed the Slums resident pretty hard on the ground, and he'd been scraped up pretty badly during the pick up process.

On top of all of that, there was this gnawing sense of guilt that refused to go away no matter how often he tried thinking of anything else.

In general, that was just making him feel even more anger and frustration.

Matthews had almost gotten killed because of him. All because he'd gotten distracted during the firefight and those assholes had snuck up on them. They'd shot Bitters first, and then the only thing that had kept them both from getting finished off was some impromptu explosion close by from who-knows-what.

Granted, said explosion took out the Above Ground military that had been closing in on them, but it had also further roughed the shit out of Bitters and nearly knocked out Matthews too.

He hadn't even had the fucking decency to die following that though, somehow messing up both getting shot and blown up. Which had subsequently almost gotten Matthews killed again because the stupid suck-up apparently refused to not try dragging a semi-conscious person heavier than himself to safety. Despite the danger in how open that had left him.

Then to top that off, Captain Grif had…

Bitters gritted his teeth at the recollection, and turned over rather violently on his cot to try to dispel the images running through his head. The action caused him to remember Doctor Grey's sing-song voice instructing him to avoid too many sudden movements as a wave of pain suddenly radiated from his right side. Of course, he would turn around on his injuries. Because that was just perfect!

Their tubby superior was fat and lazy. He wasn't supposed to be heroic, damn it!

Captain Grif wasn't supposed to make his little sister cry. He wasn't supposed to make his friends and teammates sad at anything beyond his poor work ethic.

He wasn't supposed to make Bitters feel even guiltier.

One of the curtains behind him pulled back slightly, but he didn't bother checking to see who it was. It was either some random person just waltzing in who would leave soon enough once they realized they were in the wrong place and he was in no mood to talk. Or it would be Palomo again, tagging along with Caboose and Freckles as they made their rounds. He was somewhat convinced that Captain Caboose possibly had a crush on Doctor Grey, which was way more nightmare fuel than Bitters could take.

If that was the case, it would be the umpteenth time his childhood friend had stopped by to see how he was doing despite how it had been only about six or eight hours since Bitters had regained full consciousness. The visits were an obvious sign that Palomo was worried about him. But, similar to usual, he tried playing his worry off by telling Bitters oddball jokes and theories.

The rest of his teammates and the newer recruits had been by to see him already pretty much immediately after he had gotten there, though they were all pretty distracted and busy currently. No doubt they were preparing for whatever else was going to happen as they waited for news, so it seemed as if their visits had been a one-time deal.

Not that Bitters minded too much, really. Right now, he knew he was being pretty lousy company. Poor Palomo usually wandered off after his visits looking like a kicked puppy. The lieutenant guessed he'd have to apologize for that, the next time his friend wasn't being too annoying at any rate.

He supposed the visitor could be Doctor Grey again. But he really hoped it wasn't, just on the off-chance that she felt like stealing his socks or underwear would be a good preemptive measure to prevent him from disobeying her orders too. He honestly wouldn't put it past her.

"B—Bitters?"

The rookie turned around slightly, surprised to see Matthews staring at him in concern from the opposite end of the cot.

He had only seen Matthews immediately after coming out of whatever anesthesia Doctor Grey had used when she treated his injuries. The dumbass had actually been holding his hand through it all despite being pretty exhausted and injured himself. Though he dropped it when Bitters had subconsciously gripped back as he was waking up, and neither of them seemed to want to mention it again.

It wasn't as if Bitters could blame his teammate for not being comfortable around him, given everything. He'd nearly gotten him killed, after all. Besides, Matthews had, for whatever reason, hero-worshipped Captain Grif to boot. Bitters would have been really pissed off, if he were in his shoes.

Same with how out of all of their other friends Kaikaina didn't seem to be all that eager on checking up with him either, he supposed. She probably hated him for being the reason her brother had done what he did in the first place.

"What do you want?"

Matthews was shuffling on his feet nervously, holding something out in front of him. It looked like a rather huge piece of paper, folded in half. It was decidedly pink, with purple glitter all over.

Bitters raised an eyebrow, suddenly reminded of the cards his younger siblings would make at their table back home when it was someone's birthday. That couldn't be…

Doctor Grey had stated "bed rest" to him, but she had never ruled out sitting upright on the cot. Bitters figured so long as he didn't go anywhere outside his designated "recovery" area, he was good. So, he began sitting up just because it was way too awkward for him to be laying down and looking up at someone while conversing. As he did so, the card was quickly shoved into his hands. Then Matthews immediately and awkwardly stepped back as if to give the slightly older rookie space to read it.

"Captain Donut wanted to do…something to cheer you up, but he says he's s—sorry that it's a so low-brow since he didn't have his usual supplies with him."

Oh, yeah. That was right. Come to think of it Captain Donut usually did make cards for everyone he knew whenever there was some big event. Bitters honestly wasn't sure if wanted to know why the light-ish red armored soldier had apparently been carrying around pink paper and glitter on a mission though. Or why he felt the need to put so many hearts on the damn card either.

Curiously, he opened it and let his eyes wander over the various signatures.

"Everyone signed it." Matthews further explained.

Strangely enough, they had.

There was one side of the card that seemed dedicated specifically to the various members of Red Team.

It started off with some indecipherable message from Lopez: he didn't know if the robot had actually written anything akin to a "Get Well" message in Spanish, or if he was simply requesting mechanical parts given that the rookie couldn't read the language.

That was accompanied by a cheerful remark from Donut about how sometimes you just have to sit there and take it, but that hopefully everything would work out soon.

Yeah. Bitters was going to try not to put too much thought behind Donut's message. For the sake of his own sanity.

There was a comment from Jensen about how he better get better since he had promised her he would teach her how to drive better. Bitters was fairly certain she had somehow coaxed that promise out of him when he was only semi-conscious earlier because he sure as fuck didn't remember saying that! The younger girl also mentioned that a lot of people would miss him if he didn't get well soon.

There was a note from Volleyball about how she sure as hell wasn't ever going to tell him her real name if he got any worse and that Kaikaina wouldn't forgive him either.

There was even a little note from Sarge about how this whole card thing was pointless, but that if he didn't say something there "Pretty in Pink" would never leave him alone. The older soldier felt it best to remind "Dye Job" that corpses were blue, so he better damn well not become one. Especially not after the shit another good-for-nothing in orange had recently pulled!

Matthews' message was simply "Get better" written in tiny lettering in the corner, as if he'd been the last one to get the card given how big of lettering everyone else had written in beforehand.

The other side of the card was apparently reserved for Blue Team.

C.T. had written in small lettering a very similar message to Matthews', with a note on how he shouldn't get too down on himself if he could avoid it. As well as that, from her experience, injuries were best recovered from by staying on Doctor Grey's good side. Which was something he could definitely agree with.

Captain Tucker said that getting shot sucked major ass, and that he shouldn't worry or feel too bad about the fat-ass because his friend could be insanely lucky when he needed to be. Bitters wasn't entirely sure if that was an actual attempt to cheer him up, or if Tucker had been trying to lighten the mood and cheer himself up given how it seemed like the older man had paused a few times while writing his message. It was as if he had been debating on how to word it.

Caboose apparently equated getting injured to a vacation, so he hoped that when Bitters came back from his soon he would feel better because it would be even sadder to have to end his break otherwise. Also, that Freckles would have written a message, but that he was pretty shy. And had no hands, which made it difficult.

Andersmith had actually apologized for over-reacting on occasion in the past when he'd lashed out at Bitters for his negativity, mentioning how once he was recovered going on patrols together might be a nice change of pace. Particularly if Bitters did need to talk about anything.

Geez, had the older lieutenant thought he was dying or something?

Andersmith also apparently thought that it had been an inspired idea to make a card like this, and he was glad to know that Red Team had someone as ingenious as Captain Caboose to look out for them in Captain Donut. Also, that he would be trying to take team spirit-building exercises with the pink-armored soldier in the future, proving once again that Andersmith was perhaps not the best judge of character in general. Though Bitters supposed he was right about Donut at least making pretty good attempts to maintain team spirit.

Palomo, naturally, spent the entire bottom of the page complaining that he didn't know what to write and that they really should have a party when it was all said and done. Oh, and that he had a feeling Captain Grif was going to be fine. So, if Bitters was going to be mope-y about that he should try to at least not to do it in front of some of the others, especially Kaikaina or Matthews. Or even Captain Tucker or Sarge because he felt like they would kind of kick his ass given how stressed they were.

Also, Palomo apparently thought that it kind of sucked that Doctor Grey was always kicking him out during his longer visits because he was bored and really wanted to talk more.

Kaikaina had simply written "You better get better, fuck-face!" on the card with a smiley face. Bitters was taken aback by her remark in particular, having not even expected to see her signing something for him. Let alone using her usual odd brand of pep-talk given Captain Grif's current situation.

It was weird thinking that she nor anyone else wasn't hating him for it as much as he personally was himself.

Bitters swallowed, throat oddly dry all of a sudden. His eyes felt a bit too itchy and watery. The rookie stared in disbelief at all of the written messages for him before he managed to pry his eyes away to place the card behind him.

They were all fucking idiots, but he felt oddly grateful.

"…Thanks. For showing me that." Bitters muttered to Matthews, who was still awkwardly standing there as if waiting to gauge his teammate's reaction.

"Oh!" Matthews seemed to snap back into reality then, fidgeting, "You're…uh, welcome."

The older lieutenant smirked slightly before talking, "Let me guess. Last one to sign had to bring it to me?"

His remark caused the yellow-trimmed lieutenant to pause, and he frowned as he asked, "What makes you say that?"

That Matthews seemed to have been actively avoiding him ever since they made it to the safe house, for starters.

Bitters shrugged. Because he was feeling slightly bitter over a lot of things, reminding him of that name pun Palomo came up with and Bitters couldn't help but wince inwardly, the rookie responded with, "I just figured you didn't want to be in the same room alone with me given what had happened."

Matthews flinched slightly at his tone and, seeing that, Bitters felt kind of bad.

"I didn't mean to avoid you earlier, but everyone said you needed rest." The auburn-haired soldier said weakly in way of explanation, "I asked to give you the card. I-I wanted to see if you're okay."

"I'm fine." Bitters scoffed, all of his anger still twisting inside him, "Not like Captain Grif."

Maybe the others didn't think he was an asshole. So what? Didn't mean he felt the same way, didn't mean he couldn't lash out like one.

His friend's eyes widened behind his glasses at his comment, "You don't know that!"

It was an emphatic declaration. A desperate one. Maybe Matthews had been trying to cling to that sort of flimsy hope to cope with how shitty what happened was.

Bitters wondered if Palomo had known that. His childhood friend could be incredibly dense sometimes, but on occasion he would actually hit the nail on the head when it came to observation. Perhaps that was why he'd mentioned that it wouldn't be a good idea to vent about Captain Grif around Matthews and some of the others.

As it was, Bitters now felt like even more of an asshole as a result. Still, the floodgates were open. He was finding it near impossible to stop.

"Oh, please," Bitters countered sharply, "When was the last time Above Ground took prisoners alive from the Slums?"

Matthews said nothing, looking instead like he was potentially going to cry at any second.

Bitters shook his head, leaning slightly backwards on the cot. His hand touched the card briefly, but for the moment the "warm fuzzies" it had produced earlier were lost as he voiced out loud all of the things he'd been thinking to himself for awhile.

"You screwed up, Matthews." He informed his friend quietly, closing his eyes, "You should have just fucking left me to die."

His teammate actually gasped, "That's—"

"It was my fault to begin with. I hadn't been paying attention to my side."

He'd only been distracted for maybe a second or two, but it had cost way too much.

"You should have just left me." That last part was barely a whisper as Bitters shuddered, ignoring the pain that rattled through him at the motion, "If you had…"

Matthews would have been able to get away on his own without all of the extra dead weight. No problem.

Captain Grif wouldn't have tried playing the hero that he wasn't supposed to be.

No one would be writing him get well messages in cards and making him feel both touched and even more miserable all at the same time.

"You'd be dead."

Bitters opened his eyes then and glanced over at the other young man just to make sure he'd actually heard him. The other rookie had spoken very softly then, to the point where it could have just been his imagination playing tricks on him.

But Matthews, surprisingly, was staring straight at him. His face wasn't even flushed in embarrassment like it usually was whenever he thought he said something that was rather awkward. Instead, the auburn-haired soldier looked oddly determined, as if that point was what he wanted Bitters to focus on above all else.

"If I'd just left, you'd be dead now." Matthews repeated only slightly louder this time, but it was more discernible to Bitters' ears now, especially as he saw the other lieutenant's mouth forming the words too, "I didn't want that to happen either, Bitters."

Matthews stepped closer to the cot as he was speaking, until he was standing right in front of Bitters. It was as if maybe making direct eye contact was the only way he could think of to really try to hit his point home. The only way Matthews could get his way too stubborn teammate to see where he had been coming from after he had vented his turn.

Bitters felt the card once more as flexed his hand slightly.

His mind drew a blank on any kind of retort, suddenly feeling as if he had only stunned silence in his brain. Bitters had been so caught up in his own shit after everything that he'd only just partially ever considered why everyone else responded as they had. That lack of insight on his part suddenly getting thrown in his face was more than just a tad jarring.

After a few seconds, Matthews seemed to suddenly recall what he was doing. Just like that, his face took on a tomato hue that gave the time he almost choked on his drink after Kaikaina had made her declaration in regards to the "bet" a run for its money. His hands went up in the air, fingers poised to do that awkward ringing motion he tended to do when he felt too stressed. It was pretty obvious Matthews was about a split-second from backtracking it away from the cot and his injured teammate.

Bitters grabbed at Matthews' right hand just then, not really caring so much about the pain as he did about the sudden urge he had to make sure his friend didn't leave just yet. He ended up accidentally pulling Matthews' down on top of him due to the other lieutenant's awkward footing position.

It was an assorted, messy jumble of limbs that actually hurt like fuck until Matthews somehow managed to disentangle himself.

Matthews surprised him by not hightailing it out of there just then given how much Bitters had just overreacted to him almost leaving. Instead, face still a very deep shade of red and looking anywhere else but at Bitters, the auburn-haired solider laid down next to him on the cot.

Bitters said nothing, though he drew a sharp intake of breath as he stared at the top of Matthews' head. Inwardly, he was rather surprised over his own actions and found himself wondering just what Matthews' staying meant.

This was fine for now, right? Just staying together like this?

It was a mid-step. One that Bitters needed to accept right now just to be sure that Matthews wouldn't completely freak out on him later on down the road.

…Because Bitters was fairly certain that he just had the realization that all he really wanted to do just then was push his teammate onto the cot, just kissing him until neither of them were talking or thinking about anything else anymore.

Instead, he simply laced his fingers around Matthews' own. Their joined knuckles hit the surprisingly thoughtful gesture of well wishes to Bitters that their friends had given him.

He didn't bother looking to gauge the other man's reaction. As long as Matthews didn't leave, he reasoned, it was more than enough for now. Instead, Bitters simply stared straight ahead at nothing in particular.

From somewhere far away, he could swear he almost heard Doctor Grey exclaiming at someone about why they would decide to punch a wall. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn't "punched a hole in the world" like she mentioned, even if he still felt like he wanted to do so. At least a little bit.

Still, he knew it would be pointless and that it wouldn't change things. That it wouldn't bring Captain Grif back.

If Matthews wanted to remark on how his grip tightened slightly as if needing assurance on something, or on the redness that was maybe starting to form in Bitters' eyes, he decided not to.

They simply leaned into one another's shoulders silently.

---

The identical looking door to all the others in the corridor that Delta led them through opened up to a surprisingly large room. The walls were lined with even more computer terminals, along with a whole assortment of other machines whose purposes Simmons could only guess upon based on their appearances.

On any other day, he would have loved to have explored every single facet of this place. The cyborg imagined one could spend their entire lifetime doing just that and still only see half of what existed in this facility.

It was scary as fuck to think that this probably wasn't even the only storage place the Director had used. You had to wonder about a guy who was that dedicated and driven. Not to mention that secretive.

Granted, what little Simmons knew about the man in general was more than just a bit disconcerting already.

So, yes, any other day probably and Simmons would have had a much more positive outlook on finding himself surrounded by all of this magnificent technology.

But, given all of the recent events, the redhead was too burned out in general for much of anything. He let out a tired sigh, running his hands over his maroon helmet, getting frustrated at not being able to reach his face. It is definitely a sign that one's brain wasn't fully functional anymore when they forget that they're wearing full body armor from head to toe.

His head felt like it was about to burst as his cybernetic eye had been going into overload ever since they had entered the facility. The lower level they were on now was even more taxing on it, given that this was clearly where most of the power was being diverted to.

He felt a hand worriedly placed on his shoulder, "Hey. Are you okay?" Doc asked, sounding a little unsure.

It was a silly question that the medic more than likely already knew the answer to, all things considered. They had been thrown into so many things all at once and, oh God, Church was actually an A.I.! How did one really even begin processing something like that?

But, the Above Grounder knew that his friend was more than likely asking out of concern and because he probably needed some assurance himself too.

"Totally." Simmons hoped his voice didn't get too wobbly, that it reflected the slight smile he'd managed to muster onto his face. If he could sometimes fake being happy to his mother when she needed to see it, he could hopefully do so now for his friends.

"Who would have thought things would have gone this way, huh?"

Doc's question was directed not only to Simmons, but also to Sheila when she wandered listlessly over to join the two of them once she'd entered the room.

The gun-metal green robot was staring at everything around them, obvious unease in her body language, "It is…surprising. To be sure."

She'd had more than her fair share of shocking revelations during this mission too, after all.

"Sheila—" Simmons began, though he really wasn't sure what to say. He had a very strong sense that whatever he came up with would be rather inadequate, and he hated himself for not being more helpful to his friends when they needed it.

Before the cyborg could most likely embarrass himself though, he was cut off by Carolina's warning: "Stay alert."

The Freelancer was standing further inside the room, away from the three of them. When he thought about it, she had been through a lot herself recently. There was even still that red liquid on her from when Church was shot. Was it actual blood? Whatever it was, it was covering her armor in splotches. It was weird to think how that had turned out to be the least of her concerns.

But, despite whatever unease she was no doubt perhaps feeling on the inside, Carolina seemed to have adjusted to focusing on the task at hand pretty quickly. Simmons supposed the rest of them should at least be attempting to do the same.

Delta was hovering over her shoulder, fixated on a particular wall terminal that they were standing in front of.

The redheaded Freelancer tilted her head slightly towards his direction, "You're up, Delta."

He nodded, approaching the computer, "It will only take a few minutes." He informed her, before suddenly disappearing into the terminal itself.

There was an odd shimmer around the place he had just gone through, spreading out like a ripple in a pond. Simmons blinked, and it dissipated.

"I'm not sure how long we'll have." The cyan-armored Freelancer muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.

"So if Church is doing…whatever he is to help Epsilon, what are we doing exactly?" Simmons asked her, surprising himself by how calmly he managed to mask the anxiety in his voice.

Carolina was glancing at a terminal overhead. It seemed to show a camera feed, alternating between different portions of the building, "Delta is looking for confirmation about why exactly the Council are interested in you and Sheila."

He blinked, "But how can he—"

She waved a dismissive hand through the air, neatly cutting him off, "The Director came up with the cybernetic enhancement program, so his notes on it are most likely stored here." She glanced at all three of them quizzically, "Clearly you've guessed Sheila's connection to everything given our earlier talk?"

Sheila entered the conversation then, "I am most likely an off-shoot of F.I.L.S.S.. A portion of her that was no longer considered necessary for her main functions."

"So, why was she with Church then?" Doc asked, perplexed at the mystery.

Carolina sighed, "Unfortunately, I'm not entirely sure about that myself." She shrugged, "Clearly, the Director wasn't one to share his decisions."

There was a very large undercurrent of bitterness in her voice then, along with something else that Simmons couldn't quite place. But, the Freelancer continued speaking before Simmons had the chance to figure out anything more about her tone just then.

"Perhaps it was security, given that she was initially in a tank." She theorized, "At any rate, we can speculate more on that later. Be ready to move when I say so."

She turned sharply, the discussion apparently over. Considering how all of them had probably had more than enough of this facility for now, she probably hadn't even needed to say her last order out loud for it to have been carried.

Not that it was ever a good idea to not listen to a direct order from Agent Carolina, mind you.

There was that odd shimmer again in the terminal. Simmons only saw it through a red-tinted haze, so he knew it had something to do with his cybernetic vision. Delta suddenly reemerged a second later.

Both Simmons and Doc started, honestly shocked it took such a small amount of time for the A.I. to accomplish his goal despite Delta's earlier comment on how he would need only a few moments. The nerdy part of Simmons briefly wondered how quickly could the A.I. Fragment could process data and interpret it.

Carolina didn't seem too shocked at all by the green figure's presence, "Did you find anything?"

Delta nodded, "Affirmative. There is sufficient information on the uses of the cybernetic enhancements, as well as on potential android bodies for Virtual Intelligences. I will transfer it now."

He turned to glance back at both Sheila and Simmons where they stood tentatively a few steps behind. If it were possible, the A.I. looked decidedly sheepish compared to his usually calm demeanor as he explained, "There are two secondary programs that are of keen interest. The first is the scramble wave for electronics, and the second is for surveillance."

Okay. Neither of those sounded exactly good, especially consider they were to be attached to people in particular.

Simmons focused on the former first, "…S—surveillance?"

The green A.I. Fragment nodded, "Sheila's routine maintenance involved going through her memory banks regularly. Standard procedure."

Carolina seemed to understand what he was implying beneath that phrasing though, "But, they were also hoping to find any withheld information about Project Freelancer that she might have witnessed."

"It seems highly likely." Delta paused, glancing over at Simmons specifically this time, "A similar surveillance system was put inside Private Simmons as well. It was not labeled in the specifications for the program as it had been described to the volunteers, and it was made to be undetectable by the soldiers afterwards."

Okay, Simmons wasn't quite sure he had heard that right: "C—come again?"

Carolina didn't beat around the bush, "It means that there's an implant inside you that is collecting information for the Council to retrieve later. They most likely received the data whenever you went in for your maintenance."

"But that's—" Simmons paused then, stopping himself short.

What had he exactly been about to say? How crazy that was? How untrue it sounded?

None of this made any sense. Not what happened to Sheila or to Church or to Carolina. Given all of that, why would he put it past the Council to use him in some way too?

The truth was, he wasn't a top soldier. He was a nobody. That made it all the more easier for him to be used as well. Not only was he a glorified reject given the "proposed" outcomes for the project, but he was also an unsuspecting lab rat for some other aspect of it all the same.

Who even knew how long the damn thing had been active? What it had recorded?

It wouldn't have seen just random snippets of data. There would have been private moments too.

The thought made Simmons suddenly wanted to vomit.

Delta was still talking, "While the surveillance program in Sheila is set up through her eyes, the device housing the one in Private Simmons is located in his chest cavity."

The cyborg swallowed, looking between Carolina and Delta frantically, "Cut it out then."

The Freelancer paused, probably looking at him in bewilderment from behind her visor, "What?"

"If you know where it is, then it should be easy right?" He was trying to keep his voice from getting too high-pitched while also trying to keep down what little bit of food he'd had before the mission, "Get it out."

"Whoa! Maybe…maybe you should think about that for a minute, Simmons." Doc tried saying in a placating manner, "If it has to be removed, shouldn't it be done in a sterile environment?"

Simmons ignored the fact that, as a medic, Doc really should already know the answer to that question.

"There's no rush, Private Simmons." Carolina added, "Whatever they have already retrieved they've gotten, but they need both you and Sheila to go in for maintenance to get any new information. There is more than enough time to figure out how to deactivate the systems before then."

Simmons frowned, "But…"

He still didn't like it. He wanted the damn thing out as soon as possible. It made him feel sick even knowing that it had most likely recorded all of this too.

Did he have anything vital nearby where it was that would make removing it difficult? Would it hurt? Simmons still vividly remembered how much agony the surgery had been, but his chest was mostly metal and wiring now. Maybe he wouldn't even need anesthesia.

Wouldn't it be better to just get it out and over with in case something happened?

"Jesus! The first thing you guys do whenever I'm gone is talk about cutting things open. No wonder I have to hide all the goddamned knives."

The group all started at the voice coming up from behind them.

"Church?" Carolina asked, surprised to see that the miniature form of her cousin floating there now appeared to be an odd mix of blue and white.

"You do know one of us can disable that manually, right?" He asked, ignoring them all for a moment to address Delta. Apparently he'd at least overheard part of the conversation.

"I was about to suggest that myself." With a slight incline of his head, the green A.I. Fragment moved towards Sheila, "Pardon me, Sheila."

"It's fine." She nodded slightly, giving her consent to whatever it was he was preparing to do.

Delta suddenly vanished once more, this time inside the robot's body.

"Heh, that's nothing! Watch this!" Church turned towards Simmons and before the maroon soldier could even blink he did the exact same thing—disappearing into his chest cavity.

Yeah, Simmons actually yanked off his helmet then and vomited because it was all too much by that point.

"Ew, gross!" Church suddenly reappeared following Simmons' retching.

The cyborg could almost picture his teammate making his customary grimace of disgust when something he witnessed really grossed him out.

"S-sorry." Simmons rubbed at the corners of his mouth, not really having had too much of a fun time there either. Shakily he put his helmet back on, making sure it properly sealed.

"Guess it's a good thing I'm transparent at least." The A.I. muttered, though seconds later he was rubbing his hands together as if he remembered something he had every right to be smug about just as Delta reappeared as well, "Done and done!"

"That was…it?" Simmons wasn't sure whether he should just be thankful or disbelieving.

Church shrugged, putting his hands in the air and shooting a look at Delta, "What can I say? We're just that fucking awesome."

"Thank you, Church. And Delta." Sheila nodded her head towards both of them.

"Yeah, thank you."

It was actually moderately odd for Simmons to be thanking Church in any capacity without some kind of sarcasm attached to it given their usual discussions, but this time it was definitely fitting. Even if it would take some time before the panic he'd felt just to pass.

After all, the cyborg hadn't even really processed the whole "scramble wave" thing that Delta had mentioned earlier yet either.

"It was pretty damn easy, so you're welcome."

Given his smug tone at the moment, Church certainly seemed to be in a slightly better mood than he had been before.

Carolina had been silently watching the two A.I.s deactivate the devices, her eyes fixed onto Church in particular, "Epsilon, is he…?" she stopped, paused, and tried again, "Are you…?"

"Um, yeah. About that." Church rubbed the back of his helmet awkwardly, whatever pleasantness he'd been feeling before vanishing under the weight of her regard, "We maybe, sort-of, kind-of merged. Or something?"

Their "leader" nearly withered under the incredulous stare she was sending his way, "I don't know! Fuck it! This is still way too confusing for me."

It seemed as if the Freelancer was debating possibly arguing that point further, but decided against it for the time being, "What does that mean for now?"

Church shrugged, "Can't really say for sure, but we've got a whole shitload of information to sort through." He flickered slightly until he was hovering close by her shoulder, "Old files of the Director even he thought he'd locked away, as well as some new intel thanks to Delta." His voice was somber as he added, "Lots of things to discuss."

Before anyone could respond to that rather cryptic remark, there were gunshots coming from the hallway.

Washington quickly ran through the door, an odd-looking container in one hand and his gun drawn in the other.

"They're making their way past the defenses!" The blonde shouted.

"Yeah, no shit." Church snorted, "What was your first clue, genius?"

Even with his helmet on, Washington appeared to be about ready to strangle Church for his remark. Which, honestly? In any other situation, would have probably been rather funny considering Church's current size and the fact that he was intangible. But, Carolina moved between the two of them, her weapons already drawn.

"F.I.L.S.S.?" She called out.

"Yes, Agent Carolina?"

"I think it's about time we said goodbye to this place." She glanced over at Washington, Sheila, and Church as she spoke in particular, "For good."

"…I understand." The computer's voice was oddly quiet.

There was a loud thrumming noise as a door that Simmons was pretty sure hadn't been there before suddenly slid open. It had been camouflaged using the active computer terminals, which was actually pretty clever. Even with how oddly sensitive his cybernetic eye could be at times, he hadn't noticed it because of the power flowing throughout the rest of the space.

"This door will take you outside. Please exit immediately."

"Wait, what about you?" Doc asked, alarmed.

"Thank you for your concern, but I will be fine." The Virtual Intelligence assured him, "I have a backup elsewhere."

"Well, that's great and all but…will you remember any of this?" Doc's voice took on a sad tone, which Simmons knew was due to the fact that his friend didn't really like encounters only having one side to them.

"Unfortunately not." F.I.L.S.S. actually sounded genuinely remorseful when she answered.

Sheila touched Doc's shoulder consolingly when he slumped slightly, and Carolina called over her shoulder: "Get going now!"

Still, as the Freelancer made her way to the newly opened tunnel exit she paused slightly but didn't look back.

"I'm sorry, F.I.L.S.S.." Carolina said, right before she followed Washington through the exit.

"Goodbye, Agent Carolina, Agent Washington. Take care, Director."

With that, F.I.L.S.S. fell silent as the entire facility started to shake violently. Simmons thought it was reminiscent in a way of the tunnel collapses the Resistance had more than likely been training for underground.

Sheila was the last person to reach the threshold while Simmons, Doc, and Church held back slightly near the door in case there was an issue.

"It was very nice meeting you again, Sheila."

The robot stopped short. F.I.L.S.S.' voice sounded very small just then, to the point where it was likely that only the four of them had even heard it.

"…You too, F.I.L.S.S.."

Sheila shared a look with Church, who nodded his head back in some wordless exchange before they were all running through the tunnel to catch up to their Freelancer comrades. The ground had already started caving in mere footsteps behind them.

---

The cave-in had been a surprise, though from what Carolina said that was only the tip of the iceberg. The self-destruct sequence for buildings like this often involved collapsing everything in on top of itself, and then detonating it all underground to make sure that things were lost for good.

Still, it was probably for the best given just how much tech that facility had housed. Whatever had been in there could have potentially gotten in the hands of the wrong people if the facility had continued to been left unchecked as it had been.

Things like the robotic body they stumbled upon in the oddly warm wreckage later, for example. It had been thrown out of its container, but still remained rather intact.

"Sweet! It looks exactly like my old one!" Church grinned.

He was almost starting to get used to having a pint-sized digital body of sorts, but he preferred the other still all the same. At the very least, it would make covering up what happened to Above Ground easier.

Simmons stared at the robotic body thoughtfully. It was pretty much identical to Church's previous one, right down to the goatee.

"Why…did they decide to make these so lifelike?" The cyborg asked out loud to no one in particular, "Couldn't they have just made his body be like Sheila's? Just have Church stay inside the armor all the time?"

"Oh, who the fuck cares?" Church scoffed, "You're just jealous because I'm better looking than you are!"

Washington ignored him and focused on Simmons' questions instead, "I suppose that was done in order to make him pass as an actual human."

"I'm just glad I won't be having to hop a ride with one of you losers back." The A.I. sniffed indifferently, "No offense."

"No worries, Church! We debated that very thing awhile ago!" Doc stated cheerfully, "We were trying to figure out who would have to store you through Rock-Paper-Scissors. The loser nine times out of ten would be it!"

"…Oh, you guys suck!"

Sheila glanced over at the storage unit that Washington was carrying, "That is…Theta, correct?"

The blonde looked down at the unit, nodding slightly, "He helped us out a lot back there, so I figured we owed him." He regarded Carolina for a second to see if she would argue, but instead she simply gave him a slight nod in agreement, "Besides, hopefully we can reunite him with someone soon."

After he had said that, the Freelancer let out a sigh as if Sheila's mentioning of the Fragment had apparently helped him to remember something else, "Right now Theta has to recuperate in his unit due to how much energy he used up, but…it's going to be pretty problematic constantly lugging this thing around. We'll need someone to carry him in their armor's storage temporarily."

"Yeah, good luck with that considering how helpful they wanted to be with me." Church muttered behind them.

The blue and white A.I. was frowning down at the robot body, remembering how easy entering into things had been before and…

Suddenly he was looking through the world in the same way he always had been before he was shot. Well, how a part of him had always seen it, anyways.

Church was grinning with a definite "Missed me, bitches?" just on the tip of his tongue, only to realize that no one in their group seemed to be paying him much attention.

"Well, considering that we're both purple, I wouldn't mind volunteering!" Doc was saying to Washington cheerfully, "Or, if the others would like, we could try playing Rock-Paper-Scissors again. Winner nine times out of ten would be it!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Church groaned, "Really?"

These were his teammates. Unappreciative idiots all around. Though it made him wonder why, despite knowing that, he was smiling.

"So, how did this robot body end up being the only thing to miraculously survive? Did F.I.L.S.S. do it?" Simmons, finally, decided to direct the questions back closer to home

After all the stuff the cyborg also went through today, and all the stuff his teammate was no doubt trying really hard not to think of at the moment until they were somewhere he could properly mull it all over? Well, Church figured it was probably only fair that the nerd deserved to have a little more focus in the conversation too.

Church saw Sheila stiffen slightly at the mention of the V.I. and he frowned, "I guess it's possible."

True, F.I.L.S.S. had referred to him as the Director before. For reasons he was just beginning to understand, but didn't really like the implications of.

Perhaps a part of her had known that her identification of him wasn't entirely true given their conversations and the direction events at the facility had gone in. Perhaps she had just been missing someone, and he happened to be the closest facsimile she had gotten in a long time.

Eerily enough, he could almost understand that in a way.

But, as miraculous as the robotic body surviving had been, it was hardly one of their biggest concerns. They all knew that, and Carolina was pretty quick to put all of them on the same page again once they'd had a few minutes to catch their breaths.

"We have a lot to discuss." She stated, casting her gaze on everyone but staying on Church the longest.

Her look caused him to "Tch!" and turn his head slightly to the side. It figured she'd practically paraphrase Church's own words against him. Especially when he really wasn't sure how much he wanted to actually discuss right now and in front of whom.

"I'll say."

None of them had been expecting to hear Wyoming's voice coming from behind them. The startled group turned to face him, Carolina and Washington both aiming their weapons.

Truth be told, instead of looking like someone who had just clawed himself out of an underground inferno, the mercenary Freelancer looked rather clean and blindingly white in the sun.

It took Church a second to remember that the fucker's special armor ability happened to be temporal distortion. It would make plenty of sense that if he had felt there was a chance anything could go wrong, Wyoming would have already had a backup plan in motion.

"That was hardly sportsman-like behavior, chaps."

Oddly enough, the Freelancer had his hands up in the air as if to showcase that he wasn't interested in fighting just yet.

"Says the asshole who just loves sneaking up on people?" Church countered back.

"I suppose that's fair." Wyoming shrugged indifferently, "I think I'm just a tad bit more polite about it though."

"Where's South?" Washington asked his former teammate, voice hard as he glanced around for the violet-armored Freelancer, "I think we'd prefer not getting someone else shot today."

The Freelancer amusingly glanced towards Church at that remark, "I think it's safe to say that worked out rather swimmingly for you all in the long run. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Wyoming…!" The younger Freelancer had a warning tone in his voice.

"She was still more or less out of it thanks to that impressive punch Agent Carolina dealt her." The older man explained as he nodded to himself, "I thought it prudent to move her before attempting to break through the security gates. Just in case. A smart gamble, as it turns out."

"Can't say I'm thrilled either way." Carolina's voice was menacing. Apparently she had not forgotten any of the things South Dakota had done earlier.

"No, I imagine you wouldn't be." The mercenary sighed, "Though I'm not here to fight. Just wanted to inform you that we'll both be keeping our mouths shut on this for at least a little while. I'll make sure of it."

Washington and Carolina glanced at one another cautiously before the steel and yellow-trimmed armored Freelancer looked over at their former teammate skeptically, "Why is that, exactly?"

Wyoming snorted, "Because I'm not stupid. I know this whole episode could ruin my later pay negotiations with Hargrove down the line." He glanced past them over to Church again, tilting his helmet slightly towards him, "Your little A.I. friend over there supplied me with information I'd been trying to find earlier, so I'm more than willing to call this whole thing even."

Carolina twisted around to face her "cousin" so fast that Church actually jumped up from where his newly acquired body had been sitting on the ground to take a cautious step back. He had just gotten this body, damn it! He didn't want to lose it just yet!

"Church! What the hell is he talking about?"

"I figured we could use some leverage to get him, them, off our backs for a little while." He explained quickly, "It's about Florida…Captain Flowers."

Church heard the collective gasps coming from Doc and Simmons at the name. He saw the curious slight tilting of Sheila's head. He found himself sighing. Truthfully, it had been another one of those things he'd learned that he wasn't quite sure he wanted to share just yet. Church was really starting to understand why he had wanted to stay in the dark before.

"Like you said, Carolina, there is lots to talk about."

Wyoming harrumphed, "Best get to it then. Preferably away from here. This place is going to draw attention."

With that, Wyoming turned and left, disappearing into the forested area beyond their line of sight that had helped to further shield the facility from prying eyes.

The moment he was gone, Carolina was stomping forward towards Church. Barely controlled anger was present in each of her steps.

"I know how you feel, Carolina." Surprisingly it was Washington who came to his aid just then, stepping in between the two, "But if it was information that won't hurt us to have Wyoming know, and that will at least keep him distracted for the moment, Church probably made the right call."

"Probably? Wow. That must have really hurt to say." Church rolled his eyes.

"Be grateful I am trying to keep her from beating you senseless." The blonde snapped back. It was pretty evident in Washington's tone that he too was more than just a little annoyed at what Church had done behind their backs.

Carolina sighed, shoulders sagging slightly, "Tell me we at least still have that information you mentioned before."

"Oh, we do!" Church stated eagerly, not really wanting to stay on her bad side any longer than necessary and knowing there was at least good news to counter his earlier tactic involving the British mercenary, "I just…need to power through the list to get to likely testing locations." He turned to Delta then, "I don't think it should be too difficult if both of us are working on it."

Delta, who had been silent throughout the earlier exchanges, nodded, "It should significantly cut down on time."

Washington shook his head, sighing. His entire body just seemed drained now. Church had more than just a sneaking suspicion he actually understood the reason for why that was now too.

"I hope things on the Resistance side went smoothly." The Freelancer muttered, "We haven't heard from them since this began."

Oh, shit! Of course someone would have to go and mention that.

He glanced over at Delta, who remained silent. Apparently the A.I. Fragment figured out that, when it came to delivering bad news, it was more logical to have someone else do it.

Particularly when dealing with what was most likely going to result in at least one extremely upset person.

Figures.

"Yeah, about that…" Church hesitated, before deciding to just screw it and get the damn thing over with, "Delta and I caught some info about the Resistance when we briefly checked some communication reports. This place may have been hidden from the outside world, but clearly the asshole Director was keen on keeping tabs on all the shit currently going on in Above Ground while he had been out here."

That caught everyone's attention. Church figured he might as well go all the way now. Besides, he was going to have to tell them this information at some point anyways. Might as well do it now and get it over with, like pulling off a band-aid.

"Looks like things went as well as could be expected under the circumstances, but…the mercenaries decided to go against regulations. They kept someone they caught alive."

"…A prisoner?" Doc was perplexed, "Not that it's necessarily a bad thing, but the policies on Slums residents who break topside is…"

"Death." Carolina finished for him when the medic became uncomfortable with the idea of closing his sentence, "Which would probably be a lot kinder in this case."

"…Wh—what makes you say that?" Simmons asked nervously.

Washington sighed, "I've looked into the mercenaries Hargrove has hired. Frankly, they make the military's penalizing of Slums residents seem downright tame in comparison. If they're keeping someone alive for potential information gathering, or for whatever other reason they may have, I can't imagine that person will want to be for too long."

"Shit."

It was easy enough to imagine that Simmons' face was ashen at the prospect beneath his helmet, and Doc seemed to in no better shape. He was a medic, after all.

Church actually felt pretty bad that he still had more to tell them, "It gets worse."

"Worse?" Carolina was regarding him disbelievingly, "How could anything be worse than a possible information leak about where the Resistance fighters might be hiding while we still have to process the information we just received?"

"We…actually know the guy." Church frowned, really wishing this new body had come with a spare helmet lying around somewhere too just so that he could hide behind it, "Some of us more than others."

Oddly enough, everyone in the group beyond Delta, who already knew the situation's information, stiffened. Church realized that trying to soften the blow by being abstract was probably a pretty fucking bad idea. All of them arguably had a strong bond with a Resistance member.

He sighed, figuring it would be better to just rip the band-aid off completely then.

"It's Grif, Simmons."

As could be expected, that was when all hell broke loose.

---

Author's Notes: I am so, so sorry for how long this chapter took to get posted, especially since I was pretty confident it would come out earlier than the last one! Real life has not been too accommodating to either myself or my beta.

But, because of that, I spent a bit more time on the chapter and it ended up being twice as long as most of mine are. So, I hope in a small way that makes up for it being late. Even if real life continues to make my schedule way too hectic, I plan on finishing this story no matter how long it takes. I promise that!

Anyways, onto the chapter talk itself, yes? Ended up focusing more on the "immediate aftermath" of one of the cliffhangers from last time, as I'd kind of been hinting at that one for a long while so I felt it needed a bit more emphasis in this chapter. As was emphasized at the end, there is a lot left to discuss by everyone involved still on the matter so hopefully things will get further explained and resolved (and will make sense) soon!

Next chapter should have a bit more balance between the cast again and, yes, there is going to pairing focus again beyond just Bitthews starting from here on out too! In particular, the Grimmons will be back in full force very, very soon and I will be quite happy to get back to writing it and all of the other pairing/character interactions as well!

Again though, sorry that this chapter took so long to come out. I hope it wasn't too long and confusing! Thank you for reading and for putting up with this fic for as long as you have!

On another note: I am still deeply shocked and saddened by Monty Oum's passing. He was an incredibly driven and creative person, and he shall be missed. My thoughts are with his friends and family.