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.}

27. Chapter 27

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-Seven:

Oddly enough, the bullets flying past Vanessa Kimball's head were the least of her worries at the moment. Yes, currently she was well aware that things were very, very bad.

Their group had been pinned down by Felix and his cohorts almost within seconds. The very moment that they had entered this particular space, the mercenaries' trap had been sprung.

The only thing that had kept them from getting killed right away had been the fact that their adversaries were also thrown off by the sudden quaking. The shaking had been a blessing in disguise for Kimball's group, as it had provided the Resistance fighters with the time they needed to desperately run for cover wherever they could find it.

Unfortunately, not all of them had made it due to this scenario's odds still being overwhelmingly not in their favor.

The other Resistance members who had made it this far (too few, damn it!) collapsed amid the fierce onslaught of bullets that had accompanied the exclamation of pure rage that came from Felix. There was almost a bittersweet satisfaction in Kimball's knowledge that the wailing of the self-destruct sequence initiating throughout the base was just as bad news to the mercenaries as it was to them.

The thought of Felix being shown up given how much of a manipulative bastard he was would have probably been something of a pleasure for her any other day. However, having it happen at the expense of more of her fellow fighters, men and women that she had worked beside endlessly with and considered close comrades…friends even, was not what she had wanted.

How many Resistance fighters did they have left, really? In the back of her mind, Kimball thought it best not to dwell on it.

It wasn't as if she had a whole lot of time to process even her grief right now. Not with the clock still counting down relentlessly.

And certainly not with their group being the only ones left diverting this section of enemies' attention away from the other fighters in the building. Hopefully the others were making their way towards their best bet for escape.

The dark-haired woman hoped that Blue Team was able to figure out a way down to the lower levels that would circumvent this floor completely. The Resistance needed the data they had retrieved to stop this pointless war once the relic was gone.

She hoped that Red Team would be able to get to the exit point without much difficulty too. Sarge and the others deserved to get out safely for a job well done.

In reality, Kimball just didn't want to see anymore of her friends die. She'd lost far too many of them already.

"Something the matter, Felix?" She heard York calling out almost jovially at the rage the mercenary was clearly still displaying, "Seems like you're a little disappointed your plan isn't going as well as you'd hoped."

"You assholes think you're so clever, don't you?" The orange-trimmed mercenary snarled, shooting at York who deftly dodged the bullet at the last second.

It had been way too close for comfort though as far as Kimball was concerned. Felix was moving fast as his comrades supplied cover fire, weaving in closer to the remaining fighters amidst the heavy sea of carnage going on around them as if it was nothing.

Felix obviously wanted a crack at killing them face-to-face if he could for this setback: "You're stuck in here, and you're still going to fucking die no matter what!"

Perhaps the mercenary was right, but hopefully not all of them would. If the assessment on the weak point in the shielding had been accurate… Kimball bit down on her lower lip and rolled out of cover just then, taking out two of the mercenaries in one go and directing Felix's attention towards her instead of York.

No need to fill Felix in on that part of the equation.

"Maybe, but at least the Slums won't be destroyed!" She shouted, "Hargrove's plan will fail."

"Still trying to look on the bright side and playing the self-sacrificing hero, Vanessa?" Felix remarked incredulously, a bullet grazing the armor of her shoulder from his gun, "By this point you are just one sad broken record."

The dark-haired mercenary had drawn his knife out, colliding into her as she attempted to adjust to nearly losing her footing. The force knocked her down just as the blade made its way towards the weaker point in the armor by her throat.

"Haven't you figured out that your fucking home isn't even worth saving?" Felix jeered while looking down at her.

Kimball had her own gun jabbed into his chest, which was the only reason why he hadn't been able to find the right angle to carry through with his intended motion of slicing through her neck. The freelancer was hesitating because a bullet at this range was sure to do damage if she pulled a shot off.

Also, probably because he was an asshole who loved the sound of his own voice.

The Resistance leader ignored his obvious attempt to unnerve her, instead figuring that it was as good a time as any to rub his own failings in his face, "Matter of perspective, I guess." She sneered, "But why waste time catching up with 'old friends' when there are other things you should probably be doing?"

When he didn't respond right away, Kimball pressed on, "Given that the self-destruct sequence is running, removing the shielding and getting out of here would be a better usage of your time, wouldn't it?"

"You would like that, wouldn't you? Us scrambling to save ourselves and letting you losers free to escape in the process?" Felix asked speculatively, the knife inching down further, "Sorry to burst your bubble, Vanessa, but we have plenty of time to deal with you and still get out."

He had to jump back to keep York's fist from smashing through his visor just then, Kimball kicking upwards as he did so to further cause the steel and orange armored soldier to lose his balance.

Two bullets from the Dakota siblings fired in tandem from opposite sides of the space just as Felix was trying to reposition himself, only a quick flaring to life of his energy shield preventing serious injury. The twins glanced at each other, whatever look they shared just then completely unreadable to anyone else—though they both gave a barely perceptible nod to the other.

"If that's the fucking best you've got, I'd reassess that last thought if I were you, Felix." Tex muttered just then as she joined the group, picking up his knife from where it had fallen to the floor.

She tossed it in the air once, caught it by the handle, and then slammed it all the way up to the hilt into the metal wall close by. There were visible cracks splintering around it due to the force.

"Holy shit." York muttered under his breath at the action they had just witnessed, "I am seriously sorry for any future thing I might do to ever piss you off. One hundred percent."

"You're in love with Carolina." Tex was smirking under her helmet, "Don't bother trying to deny you're a glutton for punishment now."

Whatever other jovial banter the two friends may have gotten into just then as the sibling Freelancers started moving over to where they were was lost with another of Felix's shouts of rage.

"I have had it!" He bellowed, face no doubt a dark grimace under his helmet, "I don't care if I fucking die along with you, but none of you are getting out of here alive!"

"The old 'If I'm going down, I'm taking you all with me' routine?" York asked in mild amusement, "That sounds pretty familiar, doesn't it, D?"

The green A.I. flickered to life at his shoulder, "It does seem to be a mindset many of our adversaries display, yes." He agreed.

"Walking right into the fucking clichés by this point." South muttered as Kimball stood up, waving away the hand that Tex had offered to her a second ago.

"Oh, like you're one to talk, South." York couldn't help but joke despite how hesitant he still was with his former teammate, squinting his thumb and forefinger together for added emphasis, "Considering how you're pretty much this close to being an evil twin stereotype."

Surprisingly, South didn't get mad at the jab, seeming more amused by the remark than anything else, "Better that than being some old Earth sci-fi rogue hero reject."

The banter was odd, given how tense things had been between them before. Perhaps fighting together for their lives had simply brought their old dynamic back to the surface, albeit only temporarily.

For only a second, things were comradely before that tense atmosphere fell amongst the Freelancers again. It was if they remembered just then why South hadn't been present with them in the Resistance before. It ended when York shifted awkwardly away and South turned with an angry huff towards their opponents once again.

"Enough of this bullshit. I am done playing nice." Felix remarked, suddenly pulling back to rejoin the other Above Ground soldiers and mercenaries.

Only a small handful of their opponents had actively engaged the group directly following the shielding being activated, though with their wanton usage of firepower it had been hard to discern that until things had quieted down.

It all made sense now as Kimball realized why that was: smaller Above Ground assault droids had been maneuvered into the branching corridors and doorways of the main entrance, all while they'd been focused on Felix and the others that had been firing at them.

Standing on all sides of those mechs were soldiers set up with equally heavy firepower.

The Slums resident suddenly got the impression of someone shooting fish in a barrel and very much wished she hadn't.

"Oh, fuck." York summed things up rather succinctly just then, and she couldn't help the slight nod she gave him in response.

"Normally, this kind of overkill is a bit too much even for me." Felix remarked, now once again cocky after seeing their reactions to the new development, "But, you guys have really pissed me off. So, what the Hell?"

He brought his hand down then just as Kimball shouted "TAKE COVER!" at the top of her lungs. Everything all around them suddenly burst into a cacophony of bullets and explosives.

---

Leonard Church supposed there could be stupider ways to die than heading straight into what was most likely a room where everyone was probably opening fire on everyone else.

Oh, scratch that. He knew there was.

Fuck it, he was pretty sure that if he ever managed to talk to Caboose again, the younger man would be more than happy to come up with a few ways that Church hadn't even thought of yet.

But, still, this was pretty dumb regardless.

Especially since Red Team, Doc, and Simmons were making their way to the exit point now to help keep it secure. The self-preservationist in him wanted to do the same. Particularly since, by doing so, maybe it meant that he could actually help guarantee that somehow some of them would make it out alive if nothing else.

Fuck. The Above Grounder had even told the crazy old guy in red armor when he'd wanted to have everyone come along with them that making sure they had a secure way out was the most important thing their group could do right now.

He wasn't wrong with that assessment, and Sarge had actually agreed to it as well despite how argumentative he could be about having "kickass" battle strategies.

But, naturally, Carolina was planning on being her damn reckless self and going back for the others once she knew there would be people to help hold the line.

She always had to make things fucking difficult.

As for Church himself? Well, to say he was anywhere close to being as kickass as his cousin was an understatement. He was fucking awesome compared to everyone else, but let's be real about which one of them would always come out on top. Still, he had promised he would stay with her this whole time and he planned to stick by that.

Not to mention, there were some other people still on the upper levels he would be really upset if he didn't try to save. To then rub it in their faces later, of course.

Sheila. Grey. Kimball. Some of those younger Resistance fighters with the one older dude who was stuck with them. A few of Carolina's former Freelancer buddies, including Washington and York. That cocky asshole Tucker. Caboose and his talking gun. Theta, and Delta…

…And Tex too.

Yeah, after this? They'd all better be fucking grateful he was so goddamned helpful.

So, while Red Team was holding down the fort so to speak, he and Carolina were making their way up the floors again. With Carolina out front and leading the charge and clearing a path, all Church pretty much had to do was get out of the way of the enemies she was dropping in her wake.

He knew there were still more of the Above Ground soldiers and mercenary assholes in the lower levels who were in pursuit of the Resistance fighters.

The A.I. hoped that they wouldn't get overwhelmed on their way to the exit point. He also hoped that a certain fucking asshole hadn't gotten caught up in replaying his Allison videos and forgot to lock his door. Otherwise they would all be in deep shit.

Eventually, they had backtracked to the area where the two of them, along with that know-it-all Gamma and his buddy Wyoming, had entered the facility from.

Church ignored the armored bodies on the floor, rather surprised by the sudden lack of enemy troops. That was, until he heard it.

The sound of horribly loud, banging above them. It was like the sound of metal ricocheting off of metal. There was a cacophony of what sounded like faraway voices yelling in a jumbled mess along with it, amongst more explosions and gunfire than he could even figure out the exact numbers of.

The Above Grounder tensed.

"They're fucking right above us, aren't they?" He hissed to Carolina.

She nodded, eyes never leaving the ceiling overhead. Or, more specifically, the vent she was regarding.

"So, we're going to go through the vents the rest of the way?" Church asked, catching the direction of her glance.

All things considered, he figured that wasn't too bad of a plan. So long as there weren't a shitload of enemies standing on top of whatever grate they would try opening up. It would certainly be smarter than, say, trying any of the obvious doors or lifts that would most likely be heavily guarded by this point.

"Yes, Church." The redhead was regarding him carefully, "Though, actually, I have an idea you're not going to like."

"What?" Church tilted his head to the side quizzically, "Are you going to want me to give you a boost up there or something?"

She gave him a look just then that he could pretty accurately describe as "Don't be an idiot" even with her helmet on.

"Well, even with you being super-strong, I doubt you'd give me a boost up since I'm in a robotic body and all…" his voice trailed off at the way she tilted her head, and he put two and two together about what she was actually suggesting, "No."

There was no way he was ditching his body right now!

"Church." Carolina's voice broached no room for argument, which made sense given the situation they were currently in, "We don't have time to argue."

"But, if I leave it here what's to say it won't get shot up or fucking blown up?" He argued.

He liked having a full-fledged body at the ready when he needed one. This whole A.I. situation was still a lot for him to get used to.

"Hopefully it will be here when we come back through." His cousin remarked, voice taking on a slightly impatient tone, "But, let's be honest, do you really think you'd be able to jump up here without help yourself?"

Church frowned and said nothing. She took that as a cue to continue.

"Besides, would you want shooting to be your main contribution?"

Well, fuck. She probably did have him there.

Church sighed, "Fine, but if it gets wrecked you're totally buying me a new one."

"Sure." From the tone of her voice he figured the Freelancer was rolling her eyes at him, "Because robotic bodies that are that realistic are so easy to come by."

The dark-haired man wasn't sure if he necessarily liked that Carolina was attempting more humor these days or not.

She noticed his regard and patted his shoulder in a placating fashion, "I'll see what I can do, Church."

Yeah, that was pretty much as close to a reassurance as he was going to get.

With a long-suffering sigh, Church exited his robotic body, watching as the figure in cobalt armor collapsed in a heap on the floor.

He was hovering right in front of Carolina then, who gave him a nod of thanks before looking up at the vent once more.

"Okay, so how do we—?"

He was cut off by her suddenly opening fire, the vent giving way once its fastenings were hit.

The heavy grate crashed to the floor, the loud noise resounding through the space. Even in his digital form, Church couldn't help but wince at how close the thing fell near his body.

"Hey!" The A.I. glared at his cousin.

Carolina shrugged apologetically, "I told you I'd see what I could do if something happened to it."

"Yeah, but that doesn't give you permission to squish it!"

Apparently Church's incredulity wasn't worth commenting on, as Carolina promptly moved into a squatting position and fucking jumped right through the new hole into the ventilation shaft above.

Church gaped, fairly positive there would have been no way he could have done that even with his artificial legs.

"Don't dawdle, Church." Her voice chided from somewhere up above.

Church shook his head. Carolina was a freaking showoff, no doubt about it, but at least this way he wouldn't have to struggle to climb up there himself.

The Above Grounder supposed leaving his body behind in order to save face was a good idea in a way.

"Here." Church joined her in the dim lighting of the smaller space in-between levels.

The ventilation shaft was actually a bit larger than he'd suspected initially, with enough room for Carolina to almost stand up completely in, though she did have to bend slightly to avoid her helmet scraping the top. The A.I. supposed the size was due to this spot separating the upper and lower portions of the facility, and he understood now why she had picked it out as their point of entry.

If they got to the others, it would make an ideal shortcut back to the lower levels.

They walked for a bit, the ceiling above shaking slightly with whatever powerful impacts were happening above them. But, the floor was thick and well-constructed, so it wasn't as if they were in danger of the space collapsing.

The sounds of shouting and fighting were louder here but still muted, also demonstrating how thick the walls must be.

Carolina stopped abruptly looking up at what appeared to be a door just a few meters in front and above them. Another vent grate, this one obviously sealed.

"I'm pretty sure this leads to an office right by the main entrance." She remarked.

Church nodded, remembering the schematics they'd looked at earlier of the place, "Yeah."

She glanced at his glowing form, "Ready to join the party?"

He scoffed, "Please. Like it could really be called one until we get there."

This time around, the green-eyed woman allowed him to enter into the maintenance control panel by the grate instead of blasting the thing off its hinges like before.

It only took a few seconds for him to figure out how to open the thing. Then he was rejoining Carolina as she moved into action, jumping upwards into the space above.

There were some enemy soldiers at the door, but by the time they were just starting to turn around to face them Carolina had fired and all three were dropping. She sped past their bodies and out into the hallway.

There were more soldiers and what appeared to be an assault droid turning from opening fire into the large entrance hall beyond towards them just as Carolina dove into their midst, altering shots with physical kicks. Church dove into the droid temporarily, kicking it offline while she fired a blow into its weak spot.

The Kimball lady, Delta, North, York, and Tex were in the entrance area. It appeared as if they were still cut off from them at the moment by one huge ass wall of heavy artillery.

Oh, fuck! Even that one jackass lady who had shot him before was there. Not to mention that stupid mercenary dick in steel and orange too.

It seemed that Church and Carolina's actions just then caused a momentary ceasefire of sorts, as all eyes turned to see what had happened. So, while everyone was still momentarily gaping at their fucking awesome entrance, Church couldn't help but do what he did best without even trying.

He owned it.

"What's up, assholes?" The A.I. called out loudly, "We better be getting a goddamned thank you for this!"

---

Thanks to fucking Locus of all people, Blue Team had a rather quick and oddly uneventful trip down to the main floor.

Sure, there had been the occasional guard to dispatch here and there before word got out that they were coming to majorly crash a party, but it was nowhere near a real hindrance to their progress. Which was definitely a good thing as far as Lavernius Tucker was concerned given the time crunch they were in, especially if the sirens blaring loudly overhead were any indication.

Judging from just how loudly frequent the sounds of gunfire could be heard below with each floor they descended, and how by the time they had reached the fifth floor or so from the main entrance level the space was actually vibrating around them, there was definitely a major party going on the bottom level.

Just another flight of stairs and they were there. Tucker, Wash, and C.T. were at point as the door opened to the level where shit was apparently going down.

As it turned out, the particular stairwell they were in was apparently a bit farther away from the main lobby entrance where so many of the enemy fire was focused. There were only two guards standing by it, and both were quickly dealt with thanks to a quick jab from Tucker's sword and a well-aimed knife toss from C.T.

Just a little farther away, there seemed to be a commotion in the corridors beyond.

Wash signaled for the group to move forward carefully. The others still seemed to be putting up a fucking amazing fight, so if they could just get to them and find a way out then—

"Yo. It took you losers long enough to get here." Leonard Church's voice suddenly spoke up as he materialized directly in front of them.

"Oh, Church! Hello!" Caboose exclaimed, "Did you come for the party too?"

"Yeah. It's been fucking awesome." Church was probably rolling his eyes underneath his helmet. If he had them, at any rate. Tucker didn't know enough about tiny digital people to say for certain either way.

"I don't know, man. In my experience, the best kinds of parties are the ones you tend to not walk away from." Tucker joked back, "If you get my drift."

"Oh, yeah! Those parties are awesome!" Kai chimed in on cue, "Especially the ones that are so good you can't walk straight for days following them!"

Tucker swore he heard Wash inwardly groan. The Resistance fighter couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face.

"Yeah, yeah…wait, what?" Church was regarding Kai with open disbelief.

"We don't really have time for this, and I'm not even going to bother trying to get a straight answer from you about what you and Carolina have been up to." Wash interjected, apparently desperate to get some semblance of sanity flowing into the situation once more, "What exactly is the situation?"

"Pretty fucked, but we have it covered." Church responded, and things must have been rather serious since he didn't respond to Wash with any kind of angry retort, "Carolina is helping out Kimball and the others. We have an exit close by that you should use to get to the extraction point."

The A.I. flickered and appeared by a doorway to what looked like an office space. There were bodies and wrecked assault droids close by, and further up ahead for a moment there was a flash of cyan followed by loud shouts and gunfire.

Inside the office area was a vent hatch in the floor that had been left open.

"You travel through the vent until you find the gaping hole in the floor because my cousin has massive unresolved anger issues." Church explained to them.

"What about North and the others?"

It was Theta who spoke up just then, the worry in his voice quite apparent. The little guy had been so quiet during the run through the upper levels after joining up with them that Tucker had nearly forgotten he was still with them.

"We'll try to follow through as soon as we can. Or find another way down." Church remarked, looking seriously towards the smaller Fragment, "You should go with these guys, Theta."

"But…" the purple-armored A.I. trailed off, although he looked ready to protest the notion given that North especially was still fighting.

"North wouldn't want you getting caught up in shit if things go bad." The other A.I. reasoned more gently and patiently than Tucker would usually give him credit for, "You'd be giving him a lot less to worry about out there."

"I'm not a liability!" Theta tried arguing with a bit more fire to his protest this time.

Church brought his hands up in a placating manner, "No, but you are a great help. One that these assholes will seriously need to make it to the exit safely." He glanced at Blue Team then rather uncaringly, "No offense."

"None taken, tiny ghost sir!" Palomo spoke up, his voice still way too cheerful given the insult they had all been given just then, "My sense of direction is pretty poor!"

"A little taken, actually." Tucker chose to add in his own comment and ignore the eager private for now, huffing a bit when that earned him a middle finger from the small humanoid (although, really? That would have been fucking hilarious in any other situation), "But you do make a good point on how helpful Theta is."

"Having a guide would certainly improve our odds." Andersmith added in, apparently picking up on what was going on and wanting to help.

"North would be really grateful that you helped make sure his friends got out safely." C.T. spoke up as well, sharing a barely perceptible nod between Tucker and Andersmith.

Theta seemed to consider all of this for a moment before finally nodding his head, "All right." He agreed, though the young A.I. Fragment still sounded slightly reluctant, "I'll stay with you guys to help everyone, and for North too."

Church actually seemed somewhat relieved, "Thanks, kiddo." He remarked before turning to look at Blue Team in its entirety once more, "I'll see you guys on the other side. Hopefully. And not the other side in the metaphorical sense or whatever."

"You won't be coming with us, Church?" Sheila, who had remained rather quiet even with the sudden appearance of her teammate and friend, spoke up just then, tilting her head to regard him quizzically.

Church shook his head regrettably, "Sorry, Sheila. But, I'm going to be sticking with Carolina for this. Just make sure Doc and Simmons get out okay." He paused, looking rather uncomfortable before adding, "Oh, and your robot boyfriend too, I guess."

"…I will, Church." Sheila seemed to be struggling to come up with words, her voice almost breaking as she added, "Take care."

"You too." Church looked over the group again, "Oh, and you'll probably stumble over my robot body on your way down." He mentioned, "Do me a favor and not step on it or anything."

"That would be a waste of a perfectly good specimen!" Doctor Grey sounded horrified by the very thought.

"Terrific." Church muttered sarcastically, "If you guys had the time and wanted to drag it out for me too, that would be awesome."

"We can't make any promises, Church." Wash cut in just then.

"Figured as much." The Above Grounder sighed before waving once more, "Try to stay alive, jerks."

Just like that, Church was gone. Most likely he had faded away to rejoin the battle being waged outside this spot.

A heavy silence fell amongst Blue Team for a moment, before all eyes went to Tucker as he took in a deep breath.

"All right, so what are we going to do?" The Slums dweller asked his team.

Wash looked at him incredulously, "That should be obvious." He commented, taking a few steps towards the door to peer out into the hallway again while pointing to the open hatchway, "You are all going to be rejoining Red Team at the exit."

The fact that he said "you" instead of "we" was definitely not lost on anyone. Tucker and C.T. in particular both exchanged knowing glances.

"Hold up." Tucker stated quickly, "If you think we're just going to abandon Kimball and the others—!"

"I wouldn't think you would, but rushing out to get killed isn't exactly a sound strategy." Wash explained with a resigned sigh, "You'll be ensuring that there is a clearer path for everyone once they're able to break away from this fighting and you'll be helping to hold the exit point so that everyone will be able to make it out."

"That is a sound strategy." Sheila remarked quietly from behind, and Tucker winced inwardly because fuck it! Even though he didn't like the idea he knew that too.

But, that still didn't explain Wash's actions and words, and that was making the Resistance fighter all sorts of nervous as well.

"C.T.," Wash was talking again, his gun pointed at the door he had been inching towards this whole time, "Make sure they get there safely."

"What the fuck does that mean?!"

The question had exploded from Tucker's mouth at the very same moment that C.T.'s slightly calmer voice asked: "What exactly are you planning to do, Wash?"

Wash glanced back, "I'm evening the odds." He informed them, "Locus had said he'd made Felix believe only one or two Resistance fighters made it to the upper levels, remember?"

Oh, yeah. Tucker did recall the steel and green asshole saying something like that.

"So, if I go out to help the others I'm buying you guys time to slip away without them noticing." The Above Grounder shrugged, "Plus, I'll be providing Carolina and the others with more backup to help ensure that they can get out in time."

Tucker was about to protest when Wash shook his head, voice adamant as he continued, "Which is why it is very important that the rest of you keep that route open."

"But, that's—!"

Tucker stomped over to him, about to shout out how stupidly idiotic and suicidal that was given Wash's earlier comments on why Blue Team had to go, when suddenly his wrist was grabbed by the blonde's free hand and he was pulled into the older Freelancer's personal space.

Tucker's brain pretty much short-circuited at that point. He could barely hear the surprised gasps and wolf whistles from the others as Wash let go of his wrist to actually wrap his arm around Tucker's waist, pressing the dark-skinned man into his personal space even more.

"Tucker." There was an odd note in Wash's voice, slightly husky and pleading all at once, "Just get out of here and survive. For Junior and for your friends."

Then Wash was leaning his head in close to Tucker's own until the foreheads of their helmets were touching. They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity with Tucker's only thoughts being to wonder if Wash could hear how loud his heart was pounding, if Wash had his eyes closed and if he should too then, and what the fuck exactly was going on…

Then, just as suddenly, Wash was pulling away from a very weak-kneed Tucker. The Freelancer pushed him backwards and right into C.T.'s waiting arms as she steadied her still-in-shock teal-armored teammate.

Wash spared them all one last glance, jerking his head towards the waiting hatch once more, before he was going back through the door.

By that point, Tucker was finally able to form a coherent question.

"What…the actual fuck?"

---

So, things could definitely be going better.

Oh, what the fuck! They could have definitely been going better years earlier. York supposed it was just hopeless naivety on his part to think that they'd get a break now of all times.

Wishful thinking. He'd always been a sucker for that kind of thing. His parents had once joked it would get him killed some day, a sentiment often echoed by his friends.

As a spray of bullets came once more within centimeters of his face, the brunette tried really hard not to dwell on it.

"On your left, York." D's voice came from next to him, and he turned without even really waiting to see exactly what he was aiming for before squeezing the trigger of his gun.

The mercenary fell to the ground with a crash. But, instead of York celebrating, an expletive formed in his mind at the sight of the assault droid's presence directly behind his former adversary.

Unless one was armed with a heavy-powered weapon like a rocket launcher, about the only way to destroy a droid was in close combat. Given how it seemed to have him in its sights, there was no fucking way he'd get there now.

The Above Grounder fired off another shot that dinged uselessly against the heavy armor plating of the killing machine. He could hear Delta telling him to move to the right where there was still a bit of cover just as he heard the whir of the mech's guns getting ready to really fuck up his day.

Suddenly, and to his immense relief, there was a cyan blur directly in front of the droid.

Carolina's gun jabbed right into the machine's weak point as she let loose a very precise shot. The droid spluttered and sparked, shutting down completely as the Freelancer jumped out of the way.

The redhead was just in time too, as another of the killing machines suddenly crashed into that one, sending both pieces of scrap metal sliding across the floor with a painfully loud metallic screech and a shitload more sparks. The two droids conveniently bowling into a group of mercenaries who had been trying to use the distraction to set themselves up for taking the Resistance fighters out.

Carolina whirled around to see just who had helped her. Whatever expression was on her face at the sight of Agent Texas standing there with the droid's mechanical arm still gripped tightly in her hand from when she'd tossed it earlier, was kept hidden due to her helmet.

York and Delta both glanced at one another, unsure of how this was going to play out.

Oddly enough, despite the battle still looming on around them, Tex's stance seemed to relax somewhat.

"Carolina." She greeted, tilting her head slightly in the other's direction, "Church."

It was then that the tiny, armored figure of Alpha materialized over Carolina's shoulder as well.

"Hey, Tex." He spoke up, voice sounding awkward, "We always meet in the strangest fucking places, huh?"

The black-armored figure shrugged, "Just makes things more memorable."

There was a heavy silence following that. Well, that wasn't technically true since there was still a ton of noise going on all around them thanks to the fighting, but that was beside the point symbolically-speaking. It was if all three of them had a shitload to say to one another, but no idea where to even start.

York could relate in a way, particularly since it had been way too fucking long since he had last seen Carolina. Still, there was definitely a lot of other things they needed to be focusing on right now.

"So, um, yeah." Church coughed, "We'll definitely need to, uh, talk. Or something. After this."

Tex nodded her head at that almost imperceptibly. She glanced at Carolina and Church once more before turning to leave, most likely to make some other poor mercenary and Above Ground bastards regret that they'd decided to come in to work today.

"It's good see you again." She muttered just then, "Both of you."

Surprisingly, it was Carolina who actually responded to the woman's comment.

"The same to you." She said, her voice oddly strained but sincere, "Let's make sure we all get out of here in one piece."

"With the two of you out here and actually not trying to kill one another?" Church scoffed, "How could we not?"

Tex let out a sharp burst of laughter before she was moving across the floor again to help offer support to Kimball and North. Just as York was thinking things couldn't get any weirder that day, there was a cyan glove hovering directly in front of his face.

"Might not be the best of times to be lost in daydreams, York." Carolina advised, a joking tint to her voice.

The brunette decided that he liked that tone coming from her. He could listen to it every fucking day and never get bored of it if she'd let him.

The Above Grounder grasped onto both that thought and her hand like a fucking lifeline as she helped him back up onto his feet, "Can't blame a guy for trying to wrap his head around that little exchange." He joked back.

"You'd be better off wrapping it around the battle before you lose anymore of it." She remarked, tapping on his visor near where his blind eye was.

York stuck his tongue out, "I don't know. I'm pretty sure everyone loves scars."

"Only when they aren't caused by carelessness." Carolina chided before the moment was gone and she was spinning around again to take care of some encroaching mercenaries, "If you and Delta can help to somehow clear an opening the way Church and I came through, we have a way to the exit point."

He glanced in the direction she had indicated, a whistle escaping from his lips as he did so.

It would be easier said than done, considering how Carolina had basically barreled her way through before.

"At least she took out the droids that were previously blocking the path." Delta supplied helpfully, apparently picking up on what his partner was thinking.

"Yeah, but there's still a wall of mercs between us and it." York sighed, cracking his knuckles together and glancing around with the hope that he'd be getting some backup soon, "Oh, well. If it's our best bet then let's get to work, D!"

---

Most definitely, there were a lot of ways that Washington had envisioned being finally taken out over the years.

He had often wondered if it would be in a skirmish with hostiles to Above Ground? Or with aliens? Or from Epsilon tearing his way through the blonde's mind and trying to kill himself there, from the outpouring of memories that had threatened to consume who Washington even was?

Would his end possibly come from his own teammates and comrades stabbing him in the back? Because, for the longest time, the Freelancer had never been sure afterwards just who he could trust.

He had to admit though, buying time for the Resistance fighters and his own defected teammates hadn't exactly been how he'd ever pictured his end.

But, if nothing else, he had long since learned to deal with the unexpected.

Washington's entry into the fight wasn't as spectacular or eye-catching as one from Tex or Carolina would be. Let's face it, it would be hard to top fighters who could pretty much take down fucking tanks with their bare hands. But, at least he didn't trip or get hit in the balls (long story, please don't ask), or anything else equally embarrassing as he was prone to do in his younger days.

He moved from behind the hallway out into the fighting very quickly and stealthily. Though, to be honest, he probably could have waltzed in loudly blaring a trumpet and no one would have noticed given the amount of chaos going on just then.

The Freelancer used whatever covers he could find as vantage points to take out some of the enemy troops or mechs that the others seemed to be having a harder time reaching from where they were. Or, at the very least, the sudden unknown firing on them was distracting said troops enough to allow the others in the room the chance to get close enough to finish them off without being directly in their sights.

Not to mention, what he knew to be his very temporary element of surprise also meant that he was able to assess the situation at hand and figure out just what was going on.

Carolina and Church had entered the fray a bit before him, and were proceeding to speedily race through the room to offer combat support wherever it was most needed. As was Tex, and the carnage the two female Freelancers were inflicting, working in tandem as they were now instead of against each other, was the stuff of both sheer awe and absolute nightmares.

York was holding his own with Delta's assistance after having received a bit of aid from both Carolina and Tex earlier. The two partners were working as one, Delta telling York when someone was approaching and from where. The A.I. Fragment seemed to know just what to prioritize at a given moment, with York being the one to figure out exactly how best to do that. It was a system the two had perfected while in the program, and one that they seemed to have no difficulty picking up once more now that they had been reunited.

Kimball and North had taken up a position along the back wall, so that any hostiles had to come at them directly ahead instead of trying for a surprise assault from behind. Standing side-by-side, they were able to lay down cover fire for each other as well as pick off enemy soldiers and mercenaries who were getting too close to their already preoccupied comrades.

It was a solid strategic move, though staying out in the open like that did have its disadvantages too. Such as a certain orange and steel armored mercenary being able to keep you in their sights more.

It looked to Washington as if Felix was practically strolling across the battlefield towards the two of them, weaving in and out of the conflict and firing shots occasionally here and there simply to keep the others at bay.

The mercenary's sights seemed dead set on Kimball, no doubt due to her position as the leader of the Resistance.

North and Kimball seemed to notice this as well, turning their attention to him just as other mercenaries seemed to read a silent cue to use the opportunity to sneak up also.

Just as Washington raced forward to meet them head on, a figure in orchid armor did the same. Steel armored bodies dropped to the floor as the two former Freelancers stood some distance between Felix and his target.

"Hey, Wash." South called from just behind him, her voice snide, "Fancy seeing you here. Sure you want to be in front of me?"

"Given everything you've done, do you really think now is a good time to bring that up?" The Above Grounder shot back incredulously.

South always had been known for her twisted sense of humor. Though it had become even more biting as the years progressed.

"Can't blame me for trying to lighten the mood, can you?" She shrugged uncaringly as both her twin brother and Kimball nodded their thanks before focusing on some mechs that were currently closing in on Carolina's position.

"Right. Reminding people that you shot North in the back and took out Church while attempting to do the same to Carolina equates to lightening the mood." Washington remarked sarcastically.

"They're both fine now. More or less." She stated indifferently.

He sighed, "What exactly are you doing here, South?"

"Same thing you are, I guess." She glanced over at North then for only a split second, probably hoping Washington didn't pick up on the gesture, "Trying to keep these assholes alive for reasons I still don't fucking know myself."

Washington frowned, but said nothing. Unlike South, he damn well knew why he wanted to help keep these people alive. He wasn't in the mood to tell her that.

It wasn't like he would have much time to do so even if he had been so inclined, as the two of them had to dodge bullets just then from one extremely pissed off mercenary.

"Oh, come on!" Felix shouted angrily, suddenly throwing himself in-between the two Freelancers and kicking at Washington's head with such force that, if Washington hadn't stepped back a fraction, the blow would have likely snapped his neck, "Now you're here ruining things too?"

"Sorry to be so rude." Washington responded, returning the kick with one of his own at the same time that South aimed to punch his attacker.

Felix blocked the kick, but South's armored fist caused him to stumble slightly.

The dark-haired man growled, a gun in one hand and a knife in the other, "Hargrove was right about you Freelancers." He spat out, "You're all nothing but a bunch of interfering jackasses. No wonder you get along so well with these losers from the Resistance."

"Yeah, well. Hargrove's a dick and so are you, so I really wouldn't be complaining about us too much." South shot back, moving expertly out of the way of a knife swipe as she did so. She often sparred with C.T. back in the day, after all.

It was odd fighting alongside South again, especially with North and Kimball providing cover and the others engaged in their own battles.

In a way, it almost hurt considering his mind was telling him to be wary of attacks from her as well given everything that had transpired in the past. But, it was also a bit welcome since Felix was definitely no slouch in terms of combat skills.

He remembered what had happened with C.T. when she had engaged the mercenary, which allowed him to press on past his doubts about South at the moment.

They had more pressing concerns, after all. Like somehow figuring out a way for everyone to get back through all of these enemies before their dwindling time completely ran out.

"Figured you would show up." Carolina's voice was suddenly buzzing in his ear, and he could see some of the mercenaries, including Felix, stiffen.

They'd evidently been right about their enemies monitoring most communication frequencies save the Virtual and Artificial Intelligence workarounds.

"Guess all of us assholes have a fucking death wish." Church grumbled over the radio frequency just then too.

Washington blinked, unsure of why they were communicating at all at this point, "Carolina, what—?"

From nearby, South looked at him sideways due to his sudden outburst before catching on that he was talking to their former leader over the radio. She stared at the mercenaries and soldiers to gauge their reactions too.

"There's no time to try to keep this hidden." Carolina spoke matter-of-factly, her response vague enough to not really reveal anything to the outside listeners, "Tell the three closest to you. I'll handle the others."

That meant that, regardless of the situation, they had to be ready to move. Now.

He gave a slight nod, though she was too busy whaling on a mech at the moment and moving towards Tex to actually see it, "Understood."

"Something you guys aren't sharing with the rest of the class, Washington?" Felix taunted, firing his gun at him.

The bullet grazed the armor over his right shoulder as the Above Grounder stepped back to stand by South, who was shooting him a 'What the fuck was that about?' look that was obvious even through her visor. Any closer, and the shot would have been embedded in his body.

"I take it you guys have a plan you haven't yet shared with everyone else?" She whispered to him just then, "That sounds fucking familiar."

Washington ignored the biting remark since he could almost understand it, though it didn't excuse her actions any more than some of his own past ones were, instead stating, "No time to explain, but get ready to follow our lead."

She seemed to at least pick up that whatever it was involved them hopefully getting out of this situation alive, because he received a quick grunt of affirmation and a slight nod in response.

"I need to get to North and Kimball." He informed her, gesturing towards Felix who was once more moving in closer, "Think you can keep our friend here distracted?"

A snort, "Please. Has it been so long that you forgot who you're fucking talking to, rookie?"

Just like that, as Felix lunged at Washington with a "You're not going fucking anywhere!" line, the fighter in orchid armor tackled him to the ground for what was no doubt going to be one very brutal wrestling match.

Washington took that as his obvious cue to move.

He darted back towards where Kimball and North were, the two so focused on their own fight that they only gave him a slight nod of confirmation before returning to what they had been doing without so much as missing a beat.

"Blue Team?" Kimball asked without preamble, the concern evident in her tone for his missing group.

Washington suddenly had a feeling that the woman would have probably beaten him to death if she had seen them entering this battlefield with him.

"Sent them on ahead." He explained just as quickly, before motioning to the cyan blur moving across the room, "Carolina and Church secured a way out. We're getting ready to move. Now."

The two soldiers glanced at one another, the obvious question exchanged between them.

"If it was that easy to break through these guys, Wash, we would have done so by now." North told him gently.

The Freelancer sighed. That much had been pretty apparent to him as well.

Truthfully, he wasn't really sure of how Carolina and Church were planning on having this great escape happen.

"I don't know what they're planning, but I was told to let everyone know." He admitted, turning back around to face where he had left South and Felix fighting, "We need—!"

That was when it happened.

South was a damn near excellent brawler, probably one of the best amongst the Freelancers. That was pretty apparent by the amount of blows she traded with Felix.

Washington wasn't sure how it happened or why, but his former teammate had lost her focus for one second. It was probably something Felix had said or done that none of them could hear or pick up on from where they were, but whatever it was made South turn her head to regard the three of them.

To regard her brother in particular.

Felix took full advantage of that fact to kick her backwards. South stumbled, her footing momentarily lost as a mech's bullet pierced through the side of her armor just as North's own shot brought it crashing down.

One could almost think of the subtle irony in that as she crumpled, but truthfully that was the farthest thing from Washington's or anyone else's mind just then.

"SOUTH!"

North's cry split through any other noise that was blasting on around them.

Felix laughed, looking down at the Freelancer's twitching body, "Uh. I guess you Freelancers are tough." He admitted mockingly, "Even after that, I'm pretty sure she's still alive." The smirk was evident in his voice as he aimed his gun downwards, "Not for long, though."

"You fucking bastard!"

The trio of voices' nearly wordless outburst just then had been overrun by a familiar one shouting at the top of his lungs. A voice that caused Washington's back to stiffen and his blood to run cold just as Felix had to dodge the teal and brown blurs that nearly pummeled him into the floor.

Tucker and C.T. stood there, forming a wall keeping the mercenary from the others.

"Tucker and Connecticut." Felix greeted jovially, though there was a manic edge to his voice that showcased just how much anger was flowing beneath the surface of his words at yet another interruption of his playtime, "Here I thought you two would be missing all the fun."

"Wouldn't miss handing your ass to you for all the world." Tucker shot back snappily.

"Wha…?" Washington blinked, unsure about what was even going on, "The others?"

"Securing our exit." C.T. remarked, not even glancing behind her, "Get to South."

"No one is going anywhere!" Felix's mood went to incredibly angry well above the surface in a matter of seconds, and he fired at where C.T. stood.

Only for her image to fade, the former Freelancer already moving herself over to their downed ally. Washington didn't really have time to complain or say anything else, since he was already doing the same.

Before Felix could get his bearings again, Tucker took advantage of his angry lack of focus and raced forward, his energy sword going through the mercenary's chest at the exact same time that two bullets did also from both Kimball and an eerily silent North.

"That's where you're wrong, Felix." Tucker said as he drew the blade out on Felix's gurgle, "We are leaving. All of us."

Felix fell to the ground at the exact same moment a blinding light filled the space. Washington was barely registering that someone must have used his flash grenade trick. His body, despite his eyes watering, was already going along with what seemed to be the cue they'd all been waiting for to make a break for it.

The dead weight of Agent South Dakota hanging between himself and C.T. limply as they started to make their escape.

---

Simmons wasn't getting back up.

Shit was happening around them, a ton of it that somewhere in the very recesses of Dexter Grif's mind he was fairly certain he was processing a little bit of. Possibly.

There was gunfire. The members of Red Team were scrambling here and there for cover. Mercenaries were pouring into the room.

Then there were flashes of pain throughout his entire body. His heartbeat was thudding in his chest, and it was somehow drowning out every other noise in his ears. His own breathing was shallow and labored. It hurt every time he took in air.

But, none of that mattered just then.

His eyes were always, always going back to the figure in maroon armor lying on the floor.

All of this shit. All of this chaos and cacophony and life-or-death-struggles were happening around them, yet Simmons still wasn't fucking moving.

Yet the redhead always had the nerve to call Grif lazy?

Get up. Come on. Get the FUCK up!

He wasn't sure if his thought just then was directed at Simmons, himself, or mostly likely both of them.

The orange-armored soldier was still on the snow-covered ground where he had been thrown from the crash and subsequent explosion, while his mind was screaming at him that he needed to be inside.

He needed to be there with his team. He needed to be there with Simmons.

If the skinny asshole was just going to lie there and be lazy, which was totally his job and in no way was he going to let Simmons nerd napping up, then Grif would just have to come in there, get him, and wake the cyborg up.

"Cap—Captain Grif, sir!"

The slurred voice that hit his ears just then gave him temporary pause from nearly blacking out from the effort of trying to stand up. Suddenly, two sets of arms were supporting him. Jensen and Volleyball were watching him worriedly, as if fearful he might collapse again at any second.

The Slums dweller didn't want to think about how possible that was given the darkness looming in his vision.

"Lopez pushed us through." Jensen was obviously nervous and rambling, "It's better to have people holding the line from out here as well."

From the newly fashioned hole in the base wall, the tan-skinned man could make out Matthews, Bitters, and Lopez. They were firing into the space to keep the enemy soldiers at bay.

He was aware that inside the room, Sarge was still holding things down with his trusty shotgun. Grif also knew that Doc and Donut were somewhere in there too.

Along with Simmons.

Was Doc trying to get to Simmons then, on account of his medic training? The Resistance fighter couldn't see them anymore after having stood up, smoke blocking his view of inside the room.

Grif took a lurching step forward, catching the two younger female fighters by surprise.

"S—sir?" His sister's girlfriend asked the question with a shaky tone, and he could feel Jensen's grip momentarily tighten around his arm as if she was going to try comically holding him back from doing something reckless and stupid.

"T—take me there." There was definitely a coppery taste in his mouth when he spoke just then, but Grif ignored it.

The two rookies glanced at each other.

"But—!" Jensen began, unsure.

"Please." He looked at both of the lieutenants, "Besides, d—do you have time to waste here helping me?"

It was that argument, and the fact that he seemed a bit steadier on his feet, that finally sealed the deal for the two newer recruits. They had come to check on him, but they also desperately wanted to get back to help the others.

Quickly, but as carefully as they could, they made their way back over to where the hole in the base wall was with an aching Grif only being supported slightly by Jensen and Volleyball. Though it wasn't that far away at all, in his opinion it seemed to take way too long to reach.

He was pretty sure he was getting his umpteenth rush of adrenaline at this point, seeing as how the pain flaring through him was less of a concern than the growing sense of urgency every passing moment in this situation was giving him.

Either that, or he was going into shock. Same fucking thing at this point, Grif supposed. Most definitely.

"¿No deberías estar descansando si aún no estás muerto?" {"Shouldn't you be resting if you aren't dead yet?"}

Lopez's unknown question was drowned out by an angry "What the fuck are you doing up? You were nearly killed before, asswipe!" from Bitters and a "Glad to see you're up, Captain Grif! B—but is it a really good idea for you to be moving, sir?" from Matthews at the same exact time.

"I'm…fine." Grif wasn't really one for bravado, but he figured it was better in this case than prolonged arguing.

"Mierda. Estás sangrando toda la nieve." {"Bullshit. You're bleeding all over the snow."}

"Bullshit." Volleyball and Bitters both muttered together while Jensen and Matthews seemed just as unconvinced of the statement through their body language.

Another round of gunfire tore through the opening just then, Bitters only managing to avoid getting hit about fifteen times by Matthews grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back a moment before. The two shared a quick look through their helmets' visors at the other while Jensen and Volleyball took up positions near Lopez, returning fire.

Jensen and Lopez both hit two of the nearest enemies just then. Volleyball's suppressive fire pushing the remainder too-close-for-comfort ones further back.

Grif took the opportunity of the shared moment between Bitters and Matthews to slip in front of them and head to the opening. Looking at them just then hurt for some reason. He really didn't want to dwell on why that was because then he'd see a maroon figure lying on the ground in his mind and that hurt even more

"I'm going in."

"What?" Bitters spoke up just then at the determined declaration from the older man, "That's fucking crazy!"

"The odds of you getting back out alive are pretty low, sir." Jensen's tone was a more polite variation of "I think you're an idiot."

Grif let out a shaky breath, "Not debating. W—we still have people inside."

"Y la adición de un cuerpo casi inconsciente en la mezcla va a ayudarnos, ¿cómo?" {"And adding a nearly unconscious body into the mix is going to help us how?"}

Lopez sounded even testier than normal, if that was possible.

"Just…st—stay and guard, okay?" He sighed, "It's better than…all of us…"

The ground seemed to tilt slightly and Grif couldn't finish his sentence.

Lopez sighed mechanically and reached over to grab onto Grif's shoulder to steady him before turning to the gathered lieutenants.

"El idiota grasa es justo lo que necesitamos para llegar a los otros, pero también tenemos que cuidar este lugar todavía. Ustedes cuatro proporcionar cobertura." {"The fat idiot is right in that we need to get the others out, but we also need to guard this spot still. You four provide cover."}

"You've got it, sir!" Matthews saluted the robot just then.

Bitters and the others stared at him in shock, "You…understood that, Matthews?" the orange-trimmed lieutenant asked.

Matthews looked suddenly sheepish at the question, "Just…that it was an order of some kind, really."

"Suck-up." Both Grif and Bitters muttered at the same time.

"But he is saying that he and Captain Grif are going to help the others, and that we are going to have to hold this position to ensure that they can." Jensen spoke up.

The maroon-trimmed rookie had always seemed to have a slightly better grasp on interpreting what Lopez was saying. At least in the heat of battle or extreme emergencies if nothing else, which this definitely qualified as a case of both instances.

Jensen looked over at Lopez to make sure that she had in fact gotten it right, and promptly saluted both the robot and Grif when he gave her a slight nod, "Good luck, sirs!"

Apparently the Spanish-speaking robot had been too moved by the fact that another person had understood him to voice a confirmation out loud, but the message had definitely been received.

"We'll make sure you can get out again!" Volleyball assured them, smiling a bit as she added more as an aside to Grif, "Kai wouldn't let me hear the end of it if I didn't."

"Pr—probably not." The Slums dweller admitted, and he couldn't help but smile.

She was a good kid. He was happy Kai had found someone like her, though he did become a bit worried at the sudden realization that his sister wasn't here yet herself. If Kai had been here, she would have never let him hear the end of this.

Volleyball had glanced at the interior as well, and he could tell she was thinking along the same line just then about Kai and the others, "We'll make sure ALL of you can get out safely." She said after a second more, and he nodded slightly at her again in thanks, knowing what she meant and that she was wanting Kai to come rushing into the room just as much as he did.

"Just don't get fucking killed." Bitters said testily, ignoring the slight hit on the shoulder that earned him from Matthews, who seemed too moved to say anything himself by the heroics he was witnessing and instead opting to salute along with Jensen.

With that, Grif and Lopez were entering into the smoke-filled space. There was still flaming debris from the explosion all over, with even more fires breaking out every which way due to the haphazard and indiscriminate enemy fire occurring in the space.

The garage had housed transports for the base, along with a ton of fuel and energy cells for said transports. All of which could easily be set on fire or become impromptu bombs when hit by deadly weaponry.

In a lot of ways, it was akin to waltzing into a minefield.

But, on the other hand, it helped provide a bit of a smokescreen for them too, which both Red Team members used to their advantage.

From the look and sound of things, the suppressing fire cover from the younger recruits as well as Lopez's own shots were doing well enough to keep the hostiles at bay. There were several Above Ground soldiers and mercenaries that had followed Red Team into the area, but they were held back close to the door leading out into the base proper still.

The enemy was unable to advance further in and do anything about the gaping hole to the outside. Especially now that it was aptly guarded and giving a giant middle finger to their plans of trapping everyone side and finishing them off that way.

Which was perhaps why their intermittent shooting now seemed so off and hectic. They didn't have the manpower or firepower that their buddies upstairs were throwing at Kimball and the others here, but they didn't want that to be an excuse as to why their part of the plan was getting so fucked up either.

It was making the enemy desperate, and that desperation was also sapping whatever strategies or discipline they usually had.

Add to that the constant alarm going off all around them, and the Above Grounders and mercenaries were getting all sorts of sloppy. No less dangerous still for that, but in that state it was a bit easier to take advantage of the cracks in their armor so to speak.

Which was pretty much what Grif had to do currently, given how hurt his body was following all of the recent examples he had of why being active was actually just as fucking hazardous and harmful as he always claimed it to be while his friends rolled their eyes at him. Not to mention, along with the added awesome bonus he had of having decided to rush in without maybe thinking of getting a gun first.

But, he needed his hands fucking free if he had to drag a certain lanky cybernetic nerd out of there.

Given the conversations that had taken pace earlier and the distractions that came with trying to not get even more injured, Grif had lost track of just where he had seen Simmons lying earlier due to newfound smoke billowing into the area.

But, stepping directly into the space and taking a few seconds, which felt more like a fucking lifetime, to readjust to his surroundings, the orange-armored solider was getting a better recollection of the layout of the tumultuous battleground he'd seen only briefly before.

You know, that time following his less-than-stellar drive into heavy metal shielding in a transport filled to the brim with explosives courtesy of one of Sarge's crazy backup plans. Before his vision and senses had become tunneled by Simmons, smoke, the smell of ash, blood, not being able to breathe again, and Simmons…

Grif willed both the rising surge of renewed panic and pulsating pain down as best he could, his mind managing to focus in again on the area where he had thought he had seen Red Team gathered before things had gone so horribly wrong.

They should still be around there.

Doc and Donut were closer to the exit, Simmons was heading over (getting shot. Collapsing. Don't think about that now!), and Sarge had been aiming his shotgun while shouting threats from further into the middle of the area. The older man had been determined to hold the place until the others arrived and had been giving everyone else on Red Team time to take better cover.

There were a bit more debris spots now though, as Grif found out by stumbling and tripping over them while they progressed. Lopez was apparently equipped with a sensor or something because he seemed to effortlessly maneuver through the field.

Still, the whole thing seemed vaguely familiar somehow, even with the added haze and gunfire. The further inside they got, the more Grif swore he heard the distant din of familiar voices over the frantic chaos

The Resistance fighter wasn't expecting it when something pink literally came running up to them both, enveloping him in a hug that caused his entire body to scream inwardly with pain.

"Grif!" Donut's cheerful voice exclaimed, completely oblivious to the pain his hug was causing the other man, "You made it! You're not dead after all!"

Oh, geez. Is that what they'd all thought before, back when they'd seen him just after the crash?

Grif tried to will his eyes to stop watering, which didn't fucking work on account of his lousy tear ducts, and get air back into his lungs. Donut obviously didn't realize how strong his arms were or, more accurately, how injured Grif actually was.

"G—good to see…you too, Donut." Boy, was Grif actually surprised by how sincere that wheezed out sentiment was, "I—I can't—"

Donut seemed to realize just then that Grif was injured. The younger soldier let go quickly with a very sheepish, "Sorry! Never thought I'd be the one to lose head!"

"Estoy bastante seguro de que no es cómo va ese dicho." {"I am fairly certain that isn't how that saying goes."}

After his commentary, Lopez shot off into the distance. The robot's action bringing back to focus that they were, in actuality, in a battle zone.

Grif didn't even have his usual presence of mind to say something about the blonde's odd turn of phrase just then. Not while his body was still aching, but also knowing that the others were here. That Simmons had to be close by…

"Lopez! You're here too!" Donut even had the guts to hug the brown-armored robot as well despite the situation, relieved no doubt to see him too but also not wanting their other teammate to feel left out.

Grif swore he heard Lopez groan, but he surprisingly returned the gesture regardless.

"Contra toda la sana crítica. Ustedes idiotas van a hacer que me maten, pero te extrañaría. Probablemente." {"Against all sound judgement. You morons are going to get me killed, but I'd miss you. Probably."}

"You're right, Lopez! Standing together is what Red Team does best." Donut agreed.

"…Supongo que es lo suficientemente cerca." {"…I guess that's close enough."}

"Donut, what about the others?" Grif asked as Donut un-holstered his own weapon once more.

Their cover fire would only last so long, and…

"What about Sarge and Doc?" The orange-armored man asked again, not really liking the sudden desperate edge that was raising the pitch of his voice, "Simmons?"

Even with Donut's helmet still on, Grif had the sense that his happier expression from before had very much faltered with his friend's questions given how stiff his body had become.

That didn't help the rising tide of panic that had begun churning in Grif's gut. He took a step forward, shakily.

"Equipo Azul debería haber estado aquí por ahora también." {"Blue Team should have been here by now as well."}

Donut nodded at whatever Lopez had just said, "There's been a lot of commotion in the hallway recently." He informed them, "We can't be sure, but it's a good bet that it's Blue Team."

Good. That was good news at least. Grif managed to get a pretty decent gulp of air into his lungs with that piece of information. That meant his sister, Tucker, and the rest of them would probably be here soon. That they would probably be okay.

At least, the Slums dweller was hoping so. He couldn't really afford to think otherwise at the moment.

But, that still hadn't answered his questions. He almost had a sneaking suspicion that Donut was trying to avoid doing so on purpose.

As Lopez seemed to visibly relax a bit at that news, no doubt largely because it hopefully meant that Sheila was all right and on her way there too, Grif tried again.

"Donut?"

It was almost as if his voice had physically reached out and slapped the younger man just then with how much the pink-armored soldier flinched. Again, not helping Grif's growing sense of dread at all.

"G—Grif." Donut began, voice oddly quiet but audible still over the gunfire, his tone reluctant, "Simmons is—"

Before Grif could think of all of the ways that sentence could go, a familiar voice was shouting out over the din around them.

"You merc bastards! You want any of us? You are gonna have to face my shotgun first!"

"Sarge, I'm not sure provoking them anymore is a good idea given your injury!" Doc's voice followed quickly afterwards, concerned and gently admonishing all at once.

"I keep telling you it will take more than a shoulder wound to keep me down!" The gruff response was indignant, "Just keep doing what you're doing with that magic do-hickey."

"It's a scanner and I've already—"

Donut was leading Grif and Lopez over to where the other two fighters were conversing. A shell of a ruined transport in the middle of the garage was supplying them with adequate cover for the moment.

Sarge was leaning halfway away from it, hurling insults at the enemy and shooting his shotgun intermittently if any of them came to close. Red Team's leader was only using one arm though, his left hanging at his side. There was a slight trail of crimson liquid that was nearly undetectable thanks to his armor color of choice dripping down from a bullet wound in his shoulder.

"Sarge! You've been hit?" Donut gasped out worriedly as they approached.

The older soldier didn't even bother glancing at them, "It went clean through. Nothing to worry about." He remarked, laughing a bit, "Luckily, I can shoot with either hand!"

"Bueno, todavía está alrededor. Usted está dedicado, supongo." {"Good, you're still around. You are dedicated, I suppose."}

"It's actually almost good to see you, sir." Grif couldn't help but chime in at the odd sense of relief he felt at seeing his crazy commanding officer once more.

Sarge berated the orange-armored soldier constantly and had tried killing him more times than he could count, but he was one tough old man. If he was still standing, Grif almost felt like maybe things could be okay no matter how shitty they got. Not that he'd ever say that to the guy's face, mind you.

"Heh. Same to you this time, dirt bag." Sarge was grinning, Grif was pretty sure, "You boys have done all right."

But, that was the only accolade that Grif had the presence of mind to hear just then, because his eyes had wandered from Sarge down to the crouched over form of Doc.

If the medic wasn't scanning Sarge's injury, then…

The maroon feet caught his attention first, and then his brain registered the rest of the limp form.

"Simmons!"

They had apparently dragged the redhead's body over to the makeshift cover of the transport's shell, propping him up so that Doc could perhaps get a better idea as to what was going on. Upon closer inspection, there was a trail of blood from just a few meters away where Simmons had fallen that led directly to where they were now. A large red pool forming underneath him.

Grif pushed forward just then, moving to crouch beside Doc, a shaking arm outstretched to grab onto Simmons' shoulder. He hesitated though, only because he didn't want to make things worse. How the fuck could someone look that fragile in full body armor?

"Grif…" Donut began sadly before deciding not to finish whatever he was going to say, sharing a worried glance with Doc.

Sarge's tone was somber as he spoke, glancing behind him, "Like I said, all of you boys have made Red Team proud."

Grif glanced at Doc questioningly just then, the brown-haired man waving his scanner about uselessly.

"It's—it's not picking up much of anything." He said helplessly and Grif remembered that the medic and Simmons were pretty good friends as well as teammates, so he tried not to scream at the announcement since Doc sounded so pained, "B—but this scanner isn't really outfitted for cybernetics, so…"

Doc trailed off, clearly too upset himself but not wanting to give anyone too much hope just yet.

There was a chance Doc was right, but if the purple-armored man wasn't than that meant…

Don't think about that now. Simmons is going to be fucking fine and you'll get to punch him for all of this later!

"We need to move him." Doc said quietly, "Regardless."

The Above Grounder was right about that. There was no fucking way to really do any kind of medical aid here. Not with the alarm blaring, gunshots sailing by, the explosions, and—

"We're coming through so you better move your asses, bitches!"

She'd caused him a lot of scares over the years while growing up, but Grif had to admit that he'd never been more relieved or thankful in his entire life to hear his sister's voice just then. Kaikaina Grif's exuberant battle cry signaled Blue Team's sudden, and very chaotic, entry into the fray.

They came into it fucking swinging too. Apparently, they had been saving all of their ammo and explosives for this very second. Currently, the members of Blue Team, minus Tucker and C.T. (what happened there?), were throwing all of what was left of their fiery ammunitionat the Above Ground troops that stood between them and the outside.

Bodies flew this way and that. Even more fires began breaking out, and the alarm seemed to be getting even louder overhead.

Sarge shot with precision, taking out a white-armored soldier who had somehow managed to stumble away from his comrades in time to avoid the onslaught before they had the chance to fire at Caboose as Freckles decimated his other comrades.

"Well, I am taking that as our cue to skedaddle too!" Red Team's leader exclaimed.

Despite his own injuries, Grif moved along with Lopez to help lift Simmons up. It was going to be dangerous dragging the redhead out like this, but what other choice did they have?

He winced as Simmons' dead weight fell more squarely against him, and he felt more of the all too familiar trickle of blood down his skin. Given Doc's exclamation of surprise, the Slums dweller wouldn't have been shocked if it hadn't started seeping out even more through his own damaged armor as well now.

Still, Grif was going to help get Simmons out of here. No matter how surprisingly heavy the Above Grounder seemed to be just then, or how much his own arms and legs felt like jelly.

Doc moved to help them, and all three started moving the cyborg along at a way too painstakingly slow pace. It seemed like they were only halfway to the blasted-out hole and freedom when more mercenaries came racing in and, spotting the easiest targets to take out, started taking aim.

Before Grif could even curse though, Blue Team had opened fire from closer to the exit right along with the Red Team lieutenants, Sarge, and Donut.

There was a shimmer in the air between the Red Team stragglers and the entrance back into the base proper. Locus stood there, having fired a single shot at one of the remaining soldiers.

"What the fuck!" Grif stared in disbelief at the asshole mercenary who had once wanted to kill him just because "orders were orders" a while ago, but Locus never even turned back to face the Resistance fighters.

"Keep moving." The steel-and-green armored man said succinctly.

"What in tarnation are you blabbing about?" Sarge seemed to be debating whether or not another demonstration of how ambidextrous he was with his gun-shooting skills was in order again.

Grif pulled Simmons' form in closer to himself subconsciously.

"Go. Maintain cover fire."

Locus said no more, disappearing again with his gun still pointed at the doorway.

But, they didn't have the luxury of pondering that occurrence any further as Blue Team was crowding around them. Their allies were pulling and ushering the group towards the outside while Grif still desperately clung onto Simmons despite his body's protests.

He heard voices and more explosions, and suddenly the Slums dweller could swear he was hearing Tucker shouting "Everyone keep fucking going!" before he was being pushed and pulled along with Simmons forward from both in the front and from behind.

Then, in what felt like an eternity but was really only seconds later, the world seemed to be enveloped by a searing heat and a blinding white. Grif couldn't tell what was going on anymore at all.

---

"That is one really big, mother-fucking hole."

Leonard Church always was one for eloquence he decided as both he and Carolina surveyed the outcome of the explosion.

Thank fuck those assholes had managed to get his robot body out of there just in time. The Above Grounder knew that was probably largely on account of Caboose and Sheila more than anyone else. Next to him, Carolina scoffed at the A.I.'s brilliant description.

"You can say that again." She remarked.

The very large, remote, and hidden base at Sidewinder was nothing more than a huge hole now.

The entire fucking thing had been vaporized by the detonation of not only the base itself, though that truthfully would have left at least some rubble behind given how securely built the structure had been and its size, but the destruction of the weaponized relic too.

As it stood currently, there was literally nothing left. It looked as though something had gouged a giant asteroid-sized hole into the mountain.

Scarily enough, while there was no snow or ice anywhere at the hole's precipice, the rest of the mountain seemed completely unaffected by what had happened. There were no changes to the environment or climate at all despite being that close to the destructive radius of a blast whatsoever.

Church couldn't help but wonder if, below the surface, the chance for avalanche instability had perhaps increased. But, they'd just beat enormous odds in a really stressful situation and could use a breather. If there wasn't any shaking yet, he was willing to take his chances for the moment.

He grinned at his cousin's remark, deciding surviving all this shit and getting his robot body back called for the opportunity to be a bit of a smartass, "I said, that's a really—"

The redhead sighed, "I heard you the first time, Church."

The Above Grounder stepped over to the massive drop before them, peering over the surface.

Yep, it looked exactly like if some kid had scooped out some mashed potatoes or something with a spoon. There were no rough edges or traces of rubble anywhere. Just a perfectly rounded out, enormous indentation carved into a mountain where a huge, top-secret military and research base used to be.

The ground in the chasm was smooth and polished, almost shiny like a thick layer of glass. Tentatively, he reached a foot out just to see if there would be any lingering heat. There wasn't any.

It was as if, even though the explosion or implosion (whatever some science nerd wanted to classify it as), had happened only ten or so minutes ago, it had already been a lifetime and nature already recovered. An entire sprawling military and research complex, along with everything it contained, gone as if it had never existed. Where it had once been, a hole that was as smooth as glass and as cold as ice.

Even though he knew he was a robot now, Church couldn't help the shiver that worked its way through his body. What if Hargrove had managed to actually get that relic to target and fire on something? What if the blast hadn't been contained?

"He fucking finally did something right for once."

Who he was talking about was definitely not lost on Carolina. She joined the A.I. staring down impassively at the hole.

"Yes." Was all the response he got from the Freelancer, not that he had been expecting more.

It didn't change any of the horrific things that man had done to them, or to anyone else over the course of the years. But, Church supposed the asshole had been one of the only people who could have pulled off something like this so flawlessly. Along with a whole shitload of help from people he'd never deign to acknowledge, mind you.

It wasn't like it made the Above Grounder feel any better about the past, but, eh, he didn't really know how to describe it anymore. It was like something that had been weighing him down for too long was a whole lot lighter. Like a part of it had been gouged out along with this hole in the fucking mountainside too.

Closure. Or some bullshit sort of like it.

He imagined Carolina probably felt similarly. There was a slightly more relaxed ease with how she was carrying her shoulders just then, though she still kept her thoughts to herself.

"So, the bastard did it in the end, huh?" A familiar voice spoke up from behind them.

Church and Carolina both moved around quickly to face Tex, but she surprised them by moving to stand directly next to Carolina, joining them in peering down at the aftermath.

The black-armored woman seemed as alert as always but, with the more relaxed way she addressed them now, Church was reminded just how affected a whole shitload of other people had been by everything.

"Yeah." He muttered, surprised at how casual his voice sounded, "Figured out how to contain the blast and everything. Went out with it like the giant tool that he was."

"Huh." Tex didn't seem even slightly surprised, "Figures."

There was an awkward silence following that for what felt like the longest time. The only noises being the whipping wind that was typical of the terrain this time of year, the hum of the ground transports as they hurriedly rushed back to take those who needed to get to base camp, and the general milling of others like them who, at the moment, weren't desperately needed somewhere else.

Church had never really forgotten how much there was left to say amongst all three of them. He had, however, forgotten up until this point how fucking weird a conversation of this magnitude was going to be.

Especially since it wasn't like any of them were particularly good at dealing with, you know, feelings.

When it lingered on for a bit more than he figured was appropriate, Church decided "What the Hell?" and went for it. He took in a deep, nonexistent breath, and opened his mouth—

Only for Tex to completely ruin his awesome moment of action and beat him to the punch instead. Which, honestly, fucking figured.

"You two know now." It wasn't a question, which meant that Tex knew what the response was well enough already.

"Yes." Carolina beat him to it as well. Also something that fucking figured.

A nod from both redheads to each other, as if they needed the acknowledgement that the conversation was actually happening. It was disconcerting in a way to see the two usually so composed women both looking out of their element at the moment.

"Right." Tex coughed slightly, her focus more on the cyan-armored redhead as she let the awkward conversation linger, "And you feel…?"

Carolina paused, taken aback by the question from the person she'd so often before looked at as her most hated rival. Finally she let out a sigh and her shoulders slumped even more as her gaze went back over the glassy expanse below them, "Hurt. Angry. Betrayed."

"So, the usual?" There was only a slight joking tone to Tex's voice just then.

A nod. Carolina almost let out what sounded like a small laugh, "The usual." She thought about it for a few more moments, "But, also relieved now. In a way. Grateful even."

There was a fond tilt to Tex's voice as she joined the other in gazing out over the expanse, "You're going to be fine, kid."

"I'm fairly certain I'm older than both of you." Carolina remarked casually.

Tex scoffed again, teasing this time, "Only technically." She glanced at Church, "Though him? Wouldn't doubt it."

"Hey!" The A.I. gave them both the finger.

Carolina patted his shoulder in mock consolation before turning to Tex and holding out her hand. Her voice was awkward, sounding way younger than it had been in forever: "Truce?"

Tex stared at the hand for a second before gripping it with her own, "Truce." She looked at them both, shifting uncomfortably again on her feet, "Thank you for coming. I'm sor—"

"Wouldn't have missed it." Carolina cut her off, "Thank you too." She paused before adding, "You don't have to say it. I am too."

There was a huge sigh from Tex, as if she had been worried about how this would play out as well. They dropped their hands to their sides.

"Let me know if you're ever up for a friendly competition after all of this mess is officially over with." The black-armored woman joked.

Carolina was smiling, "Sure. I'll let you know to be ready to get your ass kicked."

"Pretty sure it will be the other way around, but it will be a hell of a fight." Tex was grinning with an eager gleam in her dark eyes, "Looking forward to it."

"Me too. Honestly."

Just like that, the two women were acting like best buds. Church stared at them with his mouth hanging open.

"Seriously?" He asked incredulously, "That was one of the weirdest heart-to-hearts I have ever fucking seen."

"As if any of this is normal?" Tex shot back.

Well, she did have him there.

The two stared at one another past Carolina, and Tex seemed to make the decision for both of them just then, asking: "Carolina, can you give us a minute?"

The Freelancer glanced from the redhead to her cousin. When Church nodded that he was okay with it, she did so as well, "Of course."

Tex patted her shoulder with awkward affection, and Carolina stepped away to see what was going on elsewhere.

Which just left the two of them, and the probably very awkward private conversation they still needed to have. This time it was Church who broken the silence first. Fucking finally.

"So." He really should have probably rehearsed this more in his head, but fuck it! He was just going to roll with it now, "You've known this whole time."

"Longer than you." She gave no elaboration though, not that he'd expected her to.

"It's why you defected."

For all that time, he's never thought of the reason as to why she had left Above Ground. Not really. Now that he had, Church realized the entire defection should have been given more of his attention. The AI had avoided a lot of things he should have dwelt on more back then though.

His lack of memories involving anything really clear cut about his past with her. His family growing up. His anger. His general unease towards so much.

"We met once."

Tex spoke up softly then, pulling the Above Grounder from his thoughts as she gazed out well past where they were standing now as she continued, "Back before I decided to leave the project for good."

Church frowned, her words drawing a complete blank in his mind. There was really only one time period when that would have happened.

"It was after Epsilon was created." He said, realization sinking in as he trailed off, "When I…"

When he had been broken. Before the fake whispers of memories of growing up with Carolina, or of an off-and-on again relationship with Tex that was as often as violent and frustrating as it was equally enjoyable and thrilling. Before his team.

Before reconnecting with his memories and learning who he was again.

A nod, "I'd found out about you—us, I guess. I tried to help." She turned to regard him, expression impassive, "I was too late. To help anyone by that point."

That was when Freelancer had literally collapsed in upon itself.

Florida had been killed. Epsilon had damaged Washington nearly beyond repair. Maine had turned into something else entirely. Carolina had nearly been killed as a result, and North had almost died due to his defection.

"If you hadn't gotten out then, things would have been a lot worse." It was odd, being the one offering advice, "Who knows what would have happened to you or York if you'd been caught? Given his injury, North would've—"

"I know." She let out a long sigh, cutting him off, "Still didn't make it easy though."

"Goodbyes suck in general." He said sardonically, and seeing her stiffen at the terminology, quickly added, "Sorry. Bad joke."

"Still don't really know much about her beyond vague emotions and the intel from files, but that phrase sticks out like a sore thumb." The redhead admitted.

I know that feeling.

Church took in a deep breath, "So, if you knew then about the fake memories, and that we'd never actually dated or anything, why'd you play along?"

Tex thought about it for a moment, "Remember what I had told you that night you and the other morons went to that dive bar in the Slums?" She asked him at length.

He frowned, recollecting: "You had said it was good to see me like that."

He'd called her weird then, because he hadn't caught her full meaning.

"Right. You were feeling things. Frustrated and with a stick up your ass, but secretly enjoying yourself too." She sounded almost fond as she recalled it, daring him with a look to challenge her viewpoint, "Like you were whole. Alive."

In an odd way, it was those kinds of experiences that had kept him from completely breaking down again after meeting Epsilon and learning the truth.

"That was the reason why you still played along, even though you knew my memories about you—about us, were fake?"

The black-armor wearing fighter nodded, arms crossed over her chest, "I liked seeing that side of you, after seeing what you were like before. Even if I knew it was fake, if it could help what was so wrong about it?"

Tex shrugged as she continued, "I don't know. I liked having that sense of connection all the same." It seemed as if it was hard for her to admit a lot of this to him out loud, "Hearing the stories and embellishing them for fun, well I guess it gave me some semblance of normality too even though I was still pissed off about what had happened to us."

"Can't say I blame you for that either." The A.I. muttered, understanding at least a little bit of what she meant.

After all, despite knowing what he was now, he still thought of Carolina as family. He still considered Tex his tumultuous, scary-as-all-fuck ex-girlfriend even now. It was probably beyond messed up, but at this point he didn't really give a shit.

"At least we're able to start over now." He muttered.

"Still a few more things left to deal with, but they're not as big a concern after all of this." Tex agreed.

They were silent again, standing there awkwardly. Church wanted to say something, felt the need to keep the door open, but he didn't want to push too hard either. Sometimes the best way to show you love something was to let it go. It was a message he'd ironically learned from an asshole who'd never been able to do so.

"Hey." Tex spoke up just then, regarding him seriously.

"What?" Church wondered if he should ask more, if maybe it was weird that he'd been so accepting of the conversation's outcome in general.

"Want to make some real memories then?" She asked him, "Together?"

The Above Grounder blinked, taken aback without even being able to form a complete question, "What, you mean like…?"

A nod, "We could see if Tucker was right about you needing those safe words."

Church had a feeling the Slums dweller probably had been, but he figured he would joke anyways, "We're both robots, you know."

"Doesn't stop Sheila and Lopez." She was glancing over at the two in quiet conversation together further away.

Church supposed he'd have to stop inwardly complaining about robot love affairs since the idea at the moment wasn't a terrible one to him.

"So, wait. You're asking me out then?"

She scoffed, "Sure as hell wasn't waiting around for your indecisive ass."

He smiled, "Crazy bitch."

Pretty much a yes then.

Church frowned, "Will this be without the whole stealing my credits thing?"

A shrug, "We'll see where things go."

"Church! Hey, Church! Tex too!"

Caboose was running up to them, hugging Church in a metal-crushing hold that would have nearly sent the two of them teetering over the edge of the hole if Tex hadn't been there to grab and steady them.

"Goddamn it, Caboose!"

Caboose ignored the outcry, "I left Freckles with C.T. and Andersmith because I had to tell you the good news!" The younger soldier was babbling happily, "Since you guys helped us, Tucker said that makes you and the other angry lady honorary Blues!"

Oh, Carolina will be thrilled to hear that. It wasn't like the Above Grounder really gave a shit either.

"T—that's great, Caboose." Church was fairly certain if he was a human he would be struggling to breathe right about now due to the strength of Caboose's friendship hug.

Caboose was still talking cheerily, "Which means we will see each other more and I will get to play with my two best friends all the time!"

"Aww, you got compared to a gun." Tex was not doing a great job concealing her amusement at this turn of events.

"Oh, you shut up!" The A.I. muttered.

"That means you and Tex can hang out more too!" Caboose added, "She can even play with us sometimes! She is actually nice even though she is also scary."

Church thought that Tex would have gotten annoyed with that last remark given her usual level of patience when it came to most things, but he was surprised to find her arms suddenly encircling the two of them from behind. Now the dark-haired man really felt like he was going to be squeezed to death from two sides.

"That's great, Caboose." He heard the former Freelancer's voice saying with sincerity somewhere close by his head, "In fact, I think we should have a party later to celebrate."

"Oh, will there be food and music?" Caboose's enthusiasm had him close to jumping up and down any second regardless of the fact that he would take the other two along with him, "Can everybody come?"

The A.I. couldn't help but groan at the sudden turn of events. Oddly enough, however, he wasn't as nearly as annoyed by it all as he thought he would get. Maybe making new memories together wouldn't be so bad.

"You bet." Tex was grinning mischievously, winking at the Above Grounder when their eyes locked a moment later, "We can even use Church's credits to pay for the whole thing!"

"Yay!"

Church would probably need to at least try to take some patience lessons all the same though.

---

Waiting definitely sucked.

That was pretty much the only thing going through Grif's mind as he sat next to Simmons' prone form on the floor of the tent that they had hastily erected, inwardly thanking fuck-who-knows that Donut couldn't read minds at that exact moment for some offhanded phrasing comment. The Resistance fighter was unaware of how tightly he was gripping onto the other man's limp hand as he continued staring down at the pale, freckled face below.

He knew that the others were milling about. He could vaguely hear and sense them, but his mind was too focused on Simmons right now to pay much attention to anything else. After all, he'd seen everyone in the immediate aftermath of what had happened.

Kai, Tucker, Red Team, the rest of Blue Team, Kimball, and the others. He knew that everyone else that he remotely cared or gave a shit about were more or less okay, save some of the poor guys that had been part of Kimball's group.

Surprisingly, save the nerd, Sarge was the only one who'd actually gotten shot. Luckily, it had been a shoulder wound that Doc was currently looking over at the other side of the tent.

The glasses-wearing pacifist might have unorthodox medical views, but apparently Sarge's statement of "I can just walk it off and it will be fine!" was a bit much even for the Above Grounder medic.

That comment from the Red Team leader wasn't too surprising though, given how tough and stubborn the old man was.

The only other critical wound had been to a Freelancer chick who had crashed the "party." According to Donut's love of gossip, she was North's sister and he really "hoped she'd be all right!" She was in one of the other emergency tents they had set up, with Doctor Grey currently working to stabilize her condition.

The Slums dweller knew that the Above Ground doctor had to make a choice between patients, and evidently a glance between both Simmons and the Freelancer had ended with Doctor Grey deciding that she needed to work on Agent South Dakota first. But, still, it had sucked when she made that decision and Grif had almost even been physically pulled back from arguing over it vehemently.

The only reason he didn't fight her more of it was her confirmation that Simmons, while not in ideal condition, was actually alive thanks to her own more up-to-date medical scanner compared to Doc's.

Given how Doc had been unsure of what Simmons' condition even was, the orange-armored man had been more than just a little relieved when she was able to confirm that.

Still, it didn't mean that having to wait around sucked less.

It was a thought that his sister shared quite loudly when she took the spot that Lopez had vacated a while ago after saying an unknown phrase to Grif followed by an awkward shoulder tap, right after the Spanish-speaking robot and Sheila had helped set Simmons down once the tent was ready.

"Waiting sucks major ass!" Kai exclaimed loudly, "And definitely not the good kind of sucking ass that's actually fun."

"Kai." Volleyball had sat down next to her girlfriend, her voice fond but slightly admonishing as she reached over and squeezed the tan woman's hand gently.

"I'm just saying." She glanced at Grif worriedly, "Should we be doing something? Like, changing bandages?"

They had already removed the top half of Simmons' armor to apply rudimentary First Aid. There were now bandages wrapped around the wound where he rested on a thermal blanket.

Grif blinked, gesturing with a downward tilt of his head, "It's covered, Kai."

She made a face at her brother's obvious stupidity, "Not for him, dumbass!"

"She means for you in the meanwhile, numb nuts." Sarge said, glancing up from the bandages on his own shoulder that Doc and Donut were just finishing up with. The older soldier was drinking a glass of orange juice that the purple medic had insisted on giving him despite Sarge's protests of never wanting to drink anything that dreaded color.

"Yeah, you're bleeding everywhere!" His sister was scrunching up her nose in disgust as she regarded Grif just then, "Not sure that's the first thing the poor guy needs to see when he wakes up."

When. Kai was emphatically choosing not to say "if." With every moment that passed his younger sister was constantly glancing worriedly at Simmons and then back to Grif, but she seemed determined to believe that things would be fine.

Grif couldn't help but admire that about her.

"I want to stay here." The dark-haired man said quietly.

Truthfully, while he hurt all over, he was just terrified to leave this spot. Especially while Simmons seemed oblivious to his worry and continued dozing like he was planning to permanently take over Grif's job of being the lazy one out of their group.

"Volleyball can watch over him for a sec while I help the gray medic guy patch you up." His sister offered, voice pleading.

"I—I can help too!" Jensen had popped her head into the tent from where she and the three younger male recruits had set up "doctor lookout" duty outside, "Cap—Captain Simmons was nice to me before, so—!"

"See?" Kai grinned, interrupting, "We've got it covered."

She reached over and gave Volleyball a quick peck on the cheek and winked appreciatively at Jensen before pulling Grif away.

Grif's mind, however, remained sitting at Simmons' side throughout the whole thing. He only slightly heard Doc, Kai, and Donut's "Don't worry, he'll be fine." type of comments constantly repeated towards the end of their changing of his own bandages.

Then he was back and sitting down next to Simmons again, gripping his hand and shooting thankful looks at the two girls on the other side of the cyborg.

They smiled, and both moved to get up again as Palomo shouted from outside, "Hey, the doctor lady's coming this way!"

"Son! That is no way to address a professional!" Sarge berated as he walked out of the tent to greet her, evidently choosing not to dress in armor again probably to impress the woman that Grif was fairly certain the Red Team leader was trying to gain the attention of now, hitting his orange-armored subordinate with a hearty shoulder bump as he did so.

The three younger women also moved to leave the tent, while Doc hurriedly tried to ensure that any necessary supplies Doctor Grey might need were readily in order.

When it was just Grif and Simmons in that section of the tent, a sudden impulse overcame the Resistance fighter before he could really dwell on it. He leaned down, pressing his lips against Simmons' own gently, not sure why he felt so heartbroken at the lack of response or the coldness of the other's. He pulled away, red-faced but still gripping Simmons' hand tightly.

"Aww!" Donut's interruption, thankfully or unthankfully, stopped his eyes from watering too much as his pink-armored teammate seemed touched by the ineffective display of affection, "That was just like something out of a fairy tale like Sleeping Beauty!"

"D—Donut—!"

"Huh, here I was, about to say the same thing!" Doctor Grey's voice spoke up cheerfully from behind both of them, "I'm shocked someone else beat me to it!"

Grif wasn't sure if what he wanted do more just then was either bang his head against something in embarrassment or ask her what the fuck exactly she was talking about.

---

It was an odd, weird-as-fuck dream he was having. That was for sure.

Richard "Dick" Simmons wasn't even really positive of when he had fallen asleep in the first place.

He knew they'd been running to the exit point. An alarm was blaring as time kept moving way too fucking fast, gunfire at their backs the whole time.

Then they'd heard the explosion. Grif had managed to actually break a hole through the shielding just in time. The orange-armored man had been there too. Holy shit, he looked bad and Simmons knew that he needed to get to him…

Then, all of a sudden he was a little boy, talking with his mother. Being berated by his father yet again.

He was a teenager, trying to ponder how Kai could be colorblind as she framed his chore wheel while Grif laughed the whole time. The dark-haired teen had a nice laugh, Simmons decided.

He was an adult. Captain Butch Flowers was listening to Doc talk about orange juice and aloe vera again. Church rolled his eyes in the background and Sheila knitted a sweater. Simmons was confused. During that time, Sheila didn't knit. She hadn't even been a robot back then, but a tank instead...

That was it. His mother was sick. She was dying. His father didn't care.

Then, she was dead. Then, Captain Flowers was dead.

No messages from Dad.

Grif was laughing again. They fell asleep shoulder-to-shoulder high above the Slums while talking about everything they could possibly even think of. But, that wasn't right. They hadn't done that as adults.

Then, Grif was injured. He was bleeding out. Simmons couldn't get to him, was going to lose him too…

There was fire in his lungs. Suddenly he was gasping for air. There was pain in his chest and all fucking over and—!

Simmons' eyes shot open. He bolted upright, not seeing where he was at the moment or really recognizing much of anything.

All he knew was that his chest hurt. He needed air.

What constituted as his heart now was pumping his blood through his body from what had been a slow crawl before to a roaring waterfall that nearly floored him again. He was so dizzy and disoriented that the sound nearly drowned out all of the voices around him.

"There you go!" Doctor Grey was speaking somewhere close by, "While the bullet did hit a bit of organic material, accounting for the bleeding, most of the actual damage was to the cybernetics in his chest cavity."

"Ah, so, it basically caused a near shutdown of his artificial respiratory and circulatory systems?" Sarge's interest in robotics was obvious as he spent longer than usual putting his clothes back on in the good doctor's presence, and Simmons found himself disoriented and wondering again what the hell was going on.

"Yup!" Doctor Grey nodded, impressed at Sarge's knowledge of what she had been talking about, "That had put him in a near-death state until I did a jumpstart!"

"Wha—?"

At the sound of his confused voice, Doc hovered into view along with Donut, practically shoving the dark-skinned woman out of the way as the doctor huffed in mild annoyance, "Simmons! How do you feel, buddy?"

Everything hurt and he still wasn't really sure what was going on. While the redhead's insides definitely hurt, it was the squeezing pain around his chest that was most perplexing. At least until Simmons looked down, seeing reddening bandages, tan skin, and dark black hair as Grif had his arms wrapped tightly around him.

The tan-skinned man's head was buried in his chest as he clutched onto the Above Grounder in what was pretty much tantamount to a death grip.

Suddenly, despite the chill of Sidewinder even with the thermal tent he now could tell they were in and the aching still everywhere in his body as his systems started getting back to working order, Simmons felt like he was on fire.

He was fairly certain there wasn't any part of him now that wasn't probably scarlet, even his synthetic skin plating.

The cyborg took a deep breath, and managed to squeak out the only thing he could think of given the situation he had just woken up into: "Am—am I dead?"

---

"You didn't have to help us escape, you know." David Washington remarked, surprised at how calm his voice sounded despite everything.

"I know." Locus' voice was as emotionless as ever, just like his expressionless helmet. Both revealed nothing.

Washington glanced over at C.T. then. She was standing a bit away near the medical tents, closer to where Andersmith, Freckles, and the two robots were observing the conversation, but the brunette was listening rather aptly to their discussion as well.

He then looked to Kimball, who regarded the mercenary with a guarded expression clouded over her features.

"Then why—?"

He shrugged before the Freelancer could even get the full question out, "Well, this would have all been pointless if you had died without the intel getting out, wouldn't it?"

"You're still not going to explain your sudden change of heart?" Washington pressed.

"No." From the tone of Locus' voice, it was pretty obvious that he thought his response should have been apparent without him even having to vocalize it.

"So, what will you do then?" Kimball asked, speaking up for the first time in several moments since the mercenary had once more made his presence known in the camp, "Hargrove will be exposed, and your own role in a lot of terrible crimes will come to light too."

Wyoming, who had been standing there quietly, suddenly said in a joking manner, "Planning to spend your retirement funds in a jail cell in exchange for a lighter sentence?"

There was an edge to the former Freelancer's banter though, just below the surface. A more than subtle threatening note. Washington didn't have to guess why that was.

Florida.

The mercenaries had had a hand in what had happened to him, and Wyoming knew that for sure now thanks to Church.

"Are you?" Locus questioned him instead.

He shook his head, "I don't plan to, no." Wyoming fixed him with an even stare, "Once I help these blokes get the information back, I plan to do a little sightseeing. Visit old friends. Have some nice chats with them that are well overdue." The edge in the Above Grounder's tone was back, but it suddenly disappeared again as he turned jovially to his partner, "Isn't that right, Gary?"

Gamma nodded, his own eyes focused on Locus as well in an assessing manner, as if to gauge his reaction to the hidden meanings in his human friend's statement, "Affirmative, Reggie."

"Sitting in a jail will accomplish nothing." Locus remarked instead, still choosing to simply respond to Wyoming's initial query and not fall into his bait, "Especially if others from our unit escaped. Or Hargrove does."

"You think he will?" Kimball asked, voice quiet and serious.

They'd hoped the Chairman wouldn't realize that his plan had failed here until it was too late for him to really make alternative ones, but he was crafty and intelligent when it came to planning things.

"Hard to say." Locus shrugged his shoulders indifferently, "The same could be said of Felix."

Washington raised an eyebrow, "You think there's a chance he survived?"

Given his injuries just seconds before they had left, and what all of them had just escaped from, it didn't seem possible that the steel and orange-armored mercenary could have survived, but…

"I wouldn't completely put it past him." The steel and green-armored mercenary admitted, voice quiet. He straightened, turning to glance out over the chilly expanse around them, "I'll keep a lookout."

"And you think this will somehow make us even?" Kimball started just then, stepping forward.

He raised a hand up to cut her off, shaking his own head as he did so, "It won't. But that doesn't matter."

Locus really was not a good talker.

Washington frowned at the abrupt and not very clear at all comment, sharing a questioning glance with Kimball just then. During their silent exchange, the mercenary suddenly disappeared from sight using his cloaking tech, causing the Resistance leader to swear under her breath.

Wyoming smirked at the turn of events, "Don't worry. I'll be on the lookout for all those chaps." He assured them, his voice friendly and cheerful once more, "After all, he's one of the blokes I need to have a nice, long chat with too."

The hidden edge in the former Freelancer's voice was back. He wasn't even trying to conceal it anymore.

"Yeah, that isn't too reassuring either given your track record." Washington couldn't help but remark sarcastically.

"One shouldn't throw stones in glass houses, Washington." Wyoming chided the younger Freelancer, turning to Kimball and nodding, "You can even consider that pro bono work."

Thank every deity in the known universe and beyond that Tucker and Donut weren't around to hear that.

Kimball sighed, shoulders slumping, "I…I'm going to check up on North and South." She said quickly, taking her leave.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the group then, and Washington stared at the ground helplessly.

He had a lot of problems still with South on account of everything, but what had happened to her wasn't something he had wanted. The Above Grounder knew it was probably eating up her twin brother, regardless of what their problems had been.

Judging from how quiet C.T. and even Wyoming were just then at the reminder, he could tell they felt the same.

The white-armored former Freelancer let out a breath of air, he and Gamma turning away from the group, "Right. I'll go check in with Niner to see what needs to be done with the air transport or something. Lots of things to do still and all that." He said awkwardly, making himself scarce too.

Washington sighed as he turned to face C.T., who was now walking towards him. She was about to say something when something behind Washington apparently caught her eye.

"Hey! Wash, we've got to talk now, mother fucker!"

Tucker. When the Freelancer turned around, he noticed that the Resistance fighter was with Junior in tow as well.

Perfect.

Before Washington could retreat from an awkward situation he had been hoping he could just put off indefinitely by burying himself in everything that still needed to be done, the Above Grounder caught a flash of a grin on his childhood friend's face as she stood next to him. Suddenly, he was shoved from behind and directly into the path of a very pissed off teal-armored fighter and curious alien child.

Oh, fucking great.

---

York didn't really need to turn around to know who was standing behind him just then. Of course, Delta had informed him of their identity too, but it seemed more dramatic to not let that be known.

The Freelancer was standing slightly closer to the air transport and a bit farther away from the temporary encampment, having decided that he needed to have a few moments to himself once he had helped to make sure the injured would be okay. Thankfully, Doctor Grey was a miracle worker even if she was a bit more than just a tad eccentric.

Besides, since he was planning on hopping a ride on the transport later as part of the group that would be crashing a Council meeting, York figured it didn't hurt to stay closer to the ride in case Kimball or someone else decided it was imperative to get airborne right away.

That reminded him of how his parents had left him once at Chorus. It had been pretty traumatic, even if he tried to play it off as a joke by saying he'd befriended a bunch of radioactive squirrels.

Only Wash had ever believed that story though.

"So." York took a deep breath when the person simply stood beside him and said nothing, as if waiting for him to speak first or just really having a hard time coming up with what they wanted to say, "Have you finished everything you needed to do then?"

"Of course." Carolina finally spoke up after another second of pondering silence, finally moving to stand next to him a moment later.

The brunette nodded, having already figured out most of what she had been up to before, "The Director?"

"Dead." She stated it bluntly, the word all at once both harsh and hollow coming from her voice. She regarded him quietly, as if expecting some kind of commentary, and quickly added, "But, not by me."

He grinned at her answer to his unspoken question, "I figured as much."

If she had gone through with her initial plan to kill the Director for revenge, York knew this conversation would have played out a hell of a lot differently from the get-go.

If nothing else, the redhead seemed almost more at peace now. He was glad for that, whatever else might come from things later.

A slight smile curved her own lips upward, "I guess you did always know how to read me." She stated, looking out at the snowy expanse before them and the waiting transport with a contemplative look forming in her green eyes, "He was the one that contained the blast in the end."

"Really went out with a bang then, huh?" The Freelancer was nearly afraid that he'd gone too far with the joke, but she didn't hit him or even glare in response to it.

Instead, she looked back at him with a sad sort of slight smile before her features took on a decidedly awkward and not-very-Carolina at all look to them, "York, I—"

He cut her off by lifting a hand up, "It's okay, no need to apologize." He informed her, "I get it."

She relaxed somewhat, returning more to her old self in terms of her body language. York preferred that to her being angry, hurt, or unsure.

"Are you sure?" The green-eyed Freelancer glanced over at him questioningly, raising an eyebrow speculatively, "I seem to recall that I did hit you a few times."

"Twenty-two times, to be exact." Delta suddenly appeared over York's shoulder, helpful as always.

Carolina both looked apologetic at that exact number, as well as slightly amused at the same time. York winced a bit at the oh-so-helpful reminder, but he couldn't help but smile himself in amusement at seeing her reaction too.

"Thanks for the recap, D." He told the A.I. Fragment, who apparently took that as his cue to disappear once more from the private conversation as York shook his head while casting a glance over at Carolina. She caught his eye and tried not to raise her eyebrow anymore in bemusement, but failed miserably.

"I healed. Eventually." York assured her, sighing after a few moments before deciding he might as well just admit everything while he was at it, "I'm just glad you found what you needed to back there."

There was silence following that. He cast a nervous glance her way, afraid that perhaps he had been wrong in his interpretation of her earlier actions and body language before. Carolina was staring off into the distance, not looking upset or anything. She just seemed contemplative, as though her thoughts were miles and miles away from where they were right now.

"…You did find it, right?" York finally managed to squeak out, hoping for a positive answer in response.

Finally, she nodded, "Right."

He let out another sigh of relief and, even though it was nothing but cold ground and snow, he promptly sat down, "So, what now?"

"I'm not really sure yet." She shrugged, "I figured I would go with Kimball to the Council, provide them with some more information on what happened here."

"Huh." The Above Grounder nodded, smirking playfully, "Here I was, planning on tagging along on that trip for guard duty. Imagine that."

The redhead looked down at him in quiet amusement, "Guess the flight back to Above Ground would be a good time for us to catch up."

The Freelancer couldn't help but raise a brown eyebrow, "Without punching?"

She seemed to consider the question for a moment, anyone who accused Carolina of not having a sense of humor hadn't stuck around her long enough, before finally nodding, "Without punching."

Before the brunette could do more than smile somewhat at that confirmation, Carolina was motioning to the spot on the ground next to him, "In the meanwhile," she started, looking at him questioningly, "Mind if I sit here?"

"Can't say I would." He grinned, "I think we could all use a rest right now."

"Agreed."

Just like that, Carolina was sitting down in the snow right next to him, her head tilting moments later to rest lightly on his shoulder. York tilted his head slightly so that his chin was sitting lightly on her hair.

For the next few moments, regardless of everything that had happened between them in the past or everything else that was going on around them and would be later on, things were absolutely perfect.

---

For a while after all of the shit that had gone down, Lavernius Tucker really hadn't had much time to ponder, well, anything really. That was pretty understandable given the whole hauling-ass-to-make-sure-no-one-got-vaporized they'd had to do.

Following that, there hadn't even really been that much time to really just sit there and fucking gape at the giant hole that was where the base had been before. Or relax and dwell on the whole holy-shit-we-actually-saved-the-Slums part of the equation either.

No, most of the time had been spend on doing shit. There were tents to set up. Injuries to attend to. Future plans that had to be talked about as well.

Unfortunately, there had been a lot of deaths on Kimball's assault team if one was trying to keep track of numbers. Thankfully, however, there had been only two majorly serious injuries to contend with.

Though, truthfully, he couldn't help but feel awful for Grif given how one of them had been his husband. Plus, not going to lie, the chubby asshole didn't look too good, even before having to deal with that kind of extra worry.

He also felt bad for North. He knew that the Above Grounder's relationship with his twin sister was complicated as all fuck, but it still sucked about what had happened to her.

After seeing to the wounded, another directly immediate concern had been checking up with the air transport crew to see how they were doing, and to get them and everyone else more or less up to speed on what would be the next several phases of the Resistance's mission from here on out.

Basically, that meant that Kimball, Doyle, and a few others would all be going to the next Council visit to see what would happen next. Along with the intelligence that Blue Team had managed to collect from the base's databanks, of course.

Tucker was yet again reunited with his son too. Fuck it, he'll admit that there were tears in his eyes.

The Slums dweller was pretty sure there were some in Junior's eyes too, though the kid would try to always play it off like he wasn't crying to impress his father.

The dark-skinned man found himself hugging the boy tightly and swearing he would never let him out of his sight for a whole month or more following this. He counted that reunion as a good time, despite all of the majorly shitty ones they'd had to go through before now.

No amount of time with Junior would ever be enough though, not after all of this.

He never ever wanted their reunion to end, although there was still one other person in particular he needed to talk with.

A few minutes later, even though it felt more like an eternity, he looked up to see Washington, Kimball, and Wyoming in the process of questioning Locus again.

Tucker knew it was time to have "the talk" with that certain someone, because he sure as fuck wasn't going to let Wash avoid what had happened before for the rest of their lives.

Plus, the Resistance fighter was more than just a little pissed off by it still too.

"Come on, son," he told Junior quietly, as he gripped his hand reassuringly, "Daddy has to go ream someone out."

"Honk?" Junior tilted his head to the side questioningly, but moved along with Tucker as the group around Wash dispersed as his own tiny hand returned his father's grip tightly.

The Slums dweller's announcement had definitely left no question as to his mood when he reached the perpetually suicidal Freelancer. Junior took that as a cue and, after glancing between his angry father and the uncomfortable Above Grounder, smartly decided to take his leave.

He let out a happy "Blarg!" at C.T. who was beckoning him over and out of dodge just then, the woman shooting a knowing look at the two adults before leading the happily chattering child over to Andersmith, Freckles, Lopez, and Sheila.

"What." Tucker began once he was certain they weren't in earshot of everyone, "The. Actual. Fuck?"

Oh, yeah. He was pissed. Emphasizing each and every word was a telltale sign of that, one he had learned from his mother.

Wash blinked stupidly, either actually confused by the question or just playing dumb to kill time.

Either way, it just made Tucker want to throttle him.

"You just had to leave by yourself to go play some suicidal self-sacrificing hero again, didn't you?" The Resistance fighter was seething.

Understanding dawned on Washington's features just then, which was about fucking time if you asked the Slums dweller, "Tucker, that was—!"

"Don't give me that bullshit about how it was strategically sound or whatever!" The younger man cut him off, "We should have all gone and helped if that was true."

Wash's face hardened at his tone and words, "No, we shouldn't have. We needed that intel to get out of the base."

"So? Only one or two needed to get out then, tops." Tucker was still glaring at him defiantly, "But, you had to go and try to get yourself killed again—"

"I was trying to make sure no one else did!" The older man cried out in frustration, returning Tucker's glare a second later, "Don't even get me started on how foolish it was for you and C.T. to follow me!"

"Yeah, well, it was a compromise we could have worked out before if you hadn't been so damn eager to leave!" Tucker informed him heatedly, "None of us wanted you to die, dumbass!"

"I didn't want any of you too either!" Wash growled out, getting angrier with Tucker's stubbornness by the minute, "Especially since…"

The Above Grounder trailed off and said nothing, looking decidedly awkward all of a sudden. His sudden change in demeanor had Tucker remembering how Wash had acted beforehand, and he felt both exhausted and frustrated again all at once.

He sighed, "Look, I know you Freelancers tend to think you're the shit. You thought you were doing something good because all of us have friends or whatever. Believe me, I didn't want to die and leave Junior alone. I wasn't planning to either, so I get it." The Blue Team leader glanced over fondly at where the child was still entertaining his friends before continuing, "But, you have friends too, man."

"Tucker." Wash frowned.

"More people than you probably think would have missed you if you'd croaked." Tucker cut the blond off before he could make another weak-ass argument and throw his train of thought off, "Fuck it! I know I would have after all the shit you've done for me."

Before Wash could even respond, Tucker reached out, grasping onto the older man's hand. The Freelancer was staring at the gesture in shock before looking up questioningly at Tucker's slightly red but stubborn-looking face.

"Just so you know, that whole embracing shit and forehead touching thing you did back there?" He asked breathlessly before he lost his nerve to bring it up, "Wasn't really subtle. At all."

Wash must have blanked out then, because his expression had gone slack in the next second and he didn't respond at all. So, Tucker decided to do what he did best and just plow on through before his brain caught up with his emotions.

"It was kind of a jackass thing to do since you went off to get yourself killed a moment later, dude. Definitely a mixed message." He frowned mockingly, "Especially after all those times when you insisted on hand-holding, but didn't even buy me dinner."

"You're holding my hand now." Wash remarked weakly after a few awkward and tense minutes had passed, the fight from before apparently completely draining from him with Tucker's words.

Tucker couldn't help but grin, "I know, and there's going to be a meal this time too." He informed the blond, gesturing with a tip of his head over to where his son was standing, "Junior and I are looking forward to it."

There was another pause then and, for a moment, Tucker was afraid that maybe he had been way off with his views on everything that had been building up between them. That there'd be some kind of protest to what he'd said, or vehement denial. The Resistance fighter nearly pulled his hand back.

But, suddenly, Tucker felt a pressure there as Wash gently squeezed his fingers reassuringly.

When the Freelancer spoke next there was a tentative smile in his voice, "It's a date then."

---

Bitters was surprised when Grif ran out of the tent suddenly without his armor on, muttering something about needing supplies under his breath.

The lieutenant wasn't really sure at all what was going on to warrant that much energy from the typically lazy slacker of a captain. For a few moments, at any rate.

The whole situation became pretty much as obvious as a flashy holographic street sign when the formerly very much incapacitated Simmons, equally armor-less, also ran out of the tent.

"Oh, so he's not dead after all! That's great!" Palomo stated cheerfully following the odd scene, which promptly caused Jensen to smack him in the arm.

"Nah. It looks like Big Bro is still just a little too shy about PDAs for his own good." Kai was grinning, brown eyes following after the fleeing pair with a cheerful glint in them. Her arm was wrapped tightly around Volleyball's shoulders as she spoke, the other girl doing the same.

"I think it's rather sweet, personally."

Captain Donut had opened up the tent flap just then to add to the conversation, watching the two himself with a look that could only be described as gleeful anticipation crossing over his features before a sudden thought had him pouting slightly, "Though it does suck that I didn't get to wear my nurse's outfit at all today with all of the helping here I did!"

From where he was standing next to the pink-armored man, watching his lanky cybernetic teammate chasing after the heavy-set Slums dweller, Doc tilted his head thoughtfully, "You mean the one you said we'd use the next time we…?" He began, but trailed off before properly finishing the question, looking quite a bit red-faced underneath his equally pink glasses.

Donut nodded happily, winking, "Yep! That's the one I was talking about, all right!"

Doc coughed, "I—it might be better to still try wearing that outfit in private first."

Bitters so didn't need to catch the hint of excitement that he had heard in the purple medic's voice just then.

Though he did suppose he could agree with everyone that it was great to see that Captain Simmons was up and about once more. Even if he and Captain Grif running out into the fucking freezing temperatures of Sidewinder without armor on was probably going to guarantee them one hell of a case of frostbite later.

Morons.

"I wouldn't worry too much."

Doctor Grey spoke up just then to join the group in their observations, apparently mind reading being one of her many hidden, and unnerving talents, along with sneaking up on people when they least suspected it, "I told Simmons that I would need to check them both over again after I check up on South once more. So, they'll be back before anything too drastic happens to them medically." She paused for dramatic effect, a grin spreading across her features, "Or they'll suffer the consequences!"

No one really wanted to suffer any consequences for ignoring the good doctor's advice when it came to medicine. Bitters knew that well enough himself, and couldn't help but shudder at the memory, grateful for the reassuring shoulder-bump he got from Matthews just then when the other young man noticed his discomfort. They were leaning against one another slightly while standing, a new routine Bitters was really enjoying.

Palomo nodded his head at the dark-skinned woman's comment, smiling still with a contemplative look of his own over his features, "Yeah, but will that be before or after they end up doing—ow!"

Jensen had hit him again, but the Blue Team rookie returned the gesture by grinning at her with literal sparkles in his eyes.

It was great that they had saved the Slums and that Hargrove was going to be exposed for the asshole that he was and everything soon, but Bitters was really not sure how much more of any of this he could fucking take.

"At least…" Matthews haltingly spoke up close to the Slums dweller's ear just then, as if catching on to the annoyed grimace flashing across Bitters' face at their friends' antics, "At least, we can relax a bit together like this and really enjoy it, huh?"

The orange-trimmed lieutenant couldn't help but return the tentative smile that he saw on the corners of the other's face just then, glad that at least that was true, "Yeah."

He gave Matthews' hand a small, reassuring squeeze just then before pressing a kiss to the auburn-haired young man's incredibly red cheek.

"PDA! PDA!" Both Kai and Palomo were cheering loudly together, with his childhood friend even feeling the need to add in a little wolf whistle for good measure.

It was easy enough for Bitters to comment to that with the usual routine: "Shut the fuck up, Palomo."

But, he was still smiling along with the others.

Matthews was right. This was still a nice feeling, at least.

---

By the time C.T. had rejoined Andersmith, Freckles, Sheila, and Lopez with Junior in tow, it seemed as if whatever conflict had been brewing between Wash and Tucker was pretty much over with.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about them arguing too much anymore, kiddo." She assured the alien child at her side.

"Blarg!" He was staring over excitedly at the two men holding hands just then as well, his happiness at the turn of events clearly visible in his body language.

The brunette knew that the last several months had been an ordeal for Junior, but maybe seeing everyone, particularly his father, less tense was the start of a new beginning for him. Of happier and more hopeful times all around.

At any rate, she hoped so even though she knew realistically speaking there was still a lot left to do before this situation could truly ever be considered resolved.

"It is good to see everyone returning to such high spirits bit by bit!" Andersmith was clutching Freckles tightly to his chest, sounding as though he were on the verge of happy tears himself at the prospect.

"YES." The V.I. inside the gun apparently agreed with his sentiment, a blast of confetti spurting from him unbidden, much to Junior's delight as he crowded over to the blue-trimmed lieutenant and Caboose's gun to clutch at the multi-colored bits of paper before they fell onto the snow.

"No seré limpiando eso." {"I won't be cleaning that up."}

Lopez added something to the commentary going on around him, before sighing as he glanced around at everyone again and deciding he needed to elaborate more.

"Pero es bueno para no ser aterrorizada de que todo va a quemar, para variar." {"But it is good to not be terrified that everything is going to burn for a change."}

Sheila held his hand then, in a gesture that was rather similar to the one that Tucker and Wash were currently engaged in.

"I am glad that things are calmer now for everyone as well." She informed the other robot quietly.

The two stared into one another's visors for a lingering moment afterwards. The gesture had C.T. smiling once more in nostalgic fondness herself before they walked off to the side after nodding to the others.

Lopez and Sheila leaned their heads together, their robotic bodies humming in a language that was private and meant just for the two of them.

C.T. supposed she should once more check on how South and Simmons were both doing, though she had done so twice already. The Above Grounder knew that Doctor Grey was the best when it came to medicine, since the doctor had even saved her life in fact. She knew that they were in the best possible care.

For the moment, the brunette found herself just wanting to reflect since she was being given the rare opportunity to do so.

That was why C.T. remained standing with Andersmith, Junior, and Freckles.

She was hopeful and wishing for the best for everyone, but her mind was already thinking about what new situations they'd most likely have to face in the aftermath of all of this. It wasn't going to be easy, of that the Freelancer had no doubt. She'd always been a realist when it came to most things.

Yet, she was surprised in a way at how calm she felt about everything currently too.

Relieved, even, given some of the things she was seeing now. These peaceful moments and exchanges that had been so rare or near impossible to see too much of given the numerous threats that had been thrown at them so intently in the past.

"I didn't think I'd ever remotely get to feel like this again." She admitted quietly, more to herself than to anyone present.

Not since he had died at any rate. Not since everything had fallen apart piece by piece around her.

But, C.T. was happy for Wash and for her other friends. They could enjoy aspects of their lives again when, before, it had seemed like too much had been lost for that to be remotely possible. She found herself hopeful that those not in a situation to do so at the moment would be able to as well once they had recovered. She was grateful that she could be here to witness what others had sadly never had the chance to.

"I hadn't thought so either, after my wife had passed away." Andersmith spoke up, surprising her, "But, I became a bit more hopeful each day I spent around everyone here."

"Blarg?" Junior looked at the two questioningly.

The lieutenant nodded at him with a smile, "Yes, that includes you as well, Junior."

"Honk!" From how he jumped up and down in the air just then, it seemed as if Tucker's son was sharing Andersmith's sentiment.

"We have to help make sure it lasts then." C.T. remarked, her lips pulling upwards slightly.

"Of course, Agent Connecticut!" Andersmith nodded and saluted, a grin on his face.

The Above Grounder couldn't help but smile widely at the enthusiastic response, especially when another burst of confetti exploding into the air had Junior's laughter flying around them. She decided that here'd be plenty of time later to finally get the older lieutenant to remember to just call her C.T..

After all, she thought all of her new friends should.

---

Vanessa Kimball paused on her way into the hastily set-up medic tent, her mind racing. A part of her brain was in the process of informing herself that she didn't necessarily need to do this.

After all, she had already checked up on everyone's statuses briefly following their hurried and chaotic escape from the base. There was more than enough things on her plate, her brain further reasoned.

Plans needed to be set-up. There needed to be strategic contingencies about what the group would do and go depending on whether or not the trip to the Council went well. She definitely needed to help figure those out before leaving. It wasn't as if the Resistance fighters and their allies would be staying on the side of a hollowed out mountain indefinitely.

She still had to go over what exactly the game plan would be in Above Ground too. A lot of it was dependent on whether or not they would be able to reach the Council at all, and if Hargrove was present with them or not when they then presented their evidence. That would be a trial in and of itself, she imagined. Especially with the "shoot to kill" order still looming over her head.

Doyle said he had ways of making it into the building where the Council was located without detection due to his years of working there. She was putting a lot of faith in his ability to follow through on that. That alone was adding a ton to her growing list of worries.

She had to admit, Doyle's general agreeableness after their talk earlier regarding the situation between the Slums and Above Ground, as well as his desire to stand with them in any capacity during this mission by guarding the transport since he could have easily remained hidden at Tex's bunker? Along with his further desire to help them shed light on everything that had happened between Above Ground and the Slums?

At the very least, those actions caused her to view the Above Grounder in a slightly better light. For the moment.

The fact that Doyle had to run off to vomit due to nerves a while ago completely notwithstanding.

But, until Four Seven Niner gave the okay that they were ready to make the trip, Kimball knew she had time.

Besides, North had become something of a good friend over the years he had been with the Resistance. All of the former Freelancers had, but North had probably been one of the few people she had opened up to more, save for maybe Sarge.

If she didn't do this now, the Resistance leader wouldn't have a chance until much later on to check up with him in person. If something happened before then…

The dark-skinned woman sighed and pushed her way through the tent's flap, finding the medical tent empty save for the unconscious figure lying on the ground with transportable monitoring equipment all around them, as well as her somber twin who was hovering over her silently.

Agent South Dakota's status had stabilized to the point where Doctor Grey could make her rounds to tend to the other injuries at hand, but she still wasn't in anywhere near an ideal condition.

Simply put, the Freelancer was in a coma at the moment.

Given where exactly her injury was located, there was also a very large possibility that she might be permanently paralyzed whenever she did wake up.

That was the reason why stepping into the tent alone had felt so terribly awkward, to say the least. Kimball stepped up to stand next to her friend, who didn't even so much as twitch a muscle at her presence. His focus was entirely on South, and the machines she was hooked up to.

"I'm sorry, North."

The words didn't sound quite right or at all fitting, even as she spoke them. They never did whenever she had to offer any type of consolation to her friends or allies going through rough times on account of the fighting. She had always hated that about having to utter them.

The blond flinched, as if finally noticing that someone else had entered the tent, casting pale blue eyes in her direction. For a moment, it was as if he still wasn't quite seeing her at all. Then, recognition on where exactly he was seemed to hit and he managed a grateful, albeit pained, sort of smile.

"It's all right." He frowned as soon as the words had come out of his mouth, shrugging, "Well, it isn't, not really. But," North let out a weak, strained laugh, "It wasn't like things were going to be okay or uncomplicated between us even if this hadn't happened, right?"

She said nothing to that, couldn't really. The Slums dweller only knew the barest of details about what had happened between the two siblings. Besides, she had the distinct impression that North really hadn't expected an answer to begin with.

The Above Grounder let out a quiet sigh, "We'll just have to figure things out from here once she wakes up, I guess." He glanced over his other shoulder, "Right, Theta?"

The tiny A.I. appeared at the mention of his name. He hovered hesitatingly, and it was obvious that he felt just as awkward over the situation as Kimball did. Sad as well, no doubt, given the hurt his partner was going through.

When Theta spoke though, he tried sounding as confident as he could for North's sake, "Right, North!"

Theta cast a look over at Kimball as if to ask her if that was the best response he could have given. She smiled slightly and nodded to him encouragingly.

North was staring down at South again, smiling distantly, "Good boy, Theta." He told the childlike A.I. Fragment, nodding towards the injured woman, "Besides, South is a fighter through and through. I doubt she'll stay down for even as long as Doctor Grey thinks she will."

Kimball had seen his sister fighting. She didn't doubt there was some truth to what North was saying.

Instead of replying verbally, she touched North's shoulder in a consoling gesture for a moment before letting her hand drop once more.

North gave her a small, grateful smile, "I'm as fine as I can be. Really." He assured both her and the still present Theta just then, "Besides, you need to be getting ready, don't' you? Isn't there a Council still to take on and all that?"

Kimball was about to her open her mouth to respond, when the tent flapped open again. A sharp burst of cold air came filtering in as a figure in red armor made his entrance.

Sarge clapped the Resistance leader comradely on the shoulder, the gesture lingering enough to be a reassuring one, before grinning, "She sure does! We can't start that part of the party without her."

The dark-haired woman looked at the Red Team leader in concern, "What about your injury?"

He guffawed, "It was a minor one at best. Doc actually patched me up just fine, and Doctor Grey gave me the all-clear to top it off." The older man lowered his voice to a whisper, "Plus, she got a load of me shirtless too, which I consider a win-win."

Despite the heavy atmosphere in the tent, Kimball couldn't help but smile. It was nice for a change to see Sarge with a bit more of a spring in his step over something that didn't involve warfare strategies.

"She's great." North mentioned quietly behind them, "South's situation would be a lot worse if she weren't such a good doctor."

"Leave it to her and your sister will probably be walking again too. The little lady has a knack for cybernetics!"

There was a bit of an awkward silence following Sarge's encouragement then, no doubt simply because so much of what would happen after South woke up was still left in the air. But, it was the thought that counted, and North nodded at the older soldier gratefully.

Sarge had insisted on coming along with the convoy group to Above Ground, so his coming here to retrieve her must mean that they were getting very close to being ready to move out.

Kimball glanced at North, his sibling, and Theta again. Then she looked over at the tent flap. Should she make another round, to check up on everyone else before leaving?

The Red Team leader seemed to read her mind, because he leaned forward just then to assure her, "I told everyone to keep a look out on one another while we're gone."

She nodded, thankful for the support. Her comm-link buzzed to life just then.

"We're ready whenever you are." Four Seven Niner's voice spoke through it.

"Thank you, Niner."

"I have the coffee and the hose ready." The pilot supplied dryly.

Kimball smiled as well at the mention of that earlier conversation they'd had, "I have a feeling we might be needing both."

"Figured as much." She commented, "It'll be an interesting trip."

"Most definitely."

The comm-link flickered back to silence again, and Kimball turned to nod her head at Sarge. She supposed now was as good a time as any.

She was actually more surprised to see that Donald Doyle had snuck into the tent as well while she had been conversing with everyone else.

The gold-trimmed man looked incredibly nervous and awkward standing there, "Ah, Miss Kimball?" He spoke up just then, "I'm terribly sorry to intrude…"

The Above Grounder was trying not to look over at South, and Kimball felt a bit of sympathy for him. She knew seeing injuries like this and the aftermath of fighting was never a pleasant experience, and Doyle wasn't exactly as used to it as some of them were.

"But, it would probably be best if we hurried." He seemed to gain more confidence as he spoke then, his back straightening a bit, "It's prudent to catch the Council before Hargrove gets complete wind of what happened here."

For once, a point that she couldn't really argue with.

The Resistance leader cast one more glance over at North lost in his own thoughts again, and then over at Theta who nodded reassuringly that he would stick with his partner. Then she turned her attention to Sarge and Doyle, both of whom were waiting expectantly for her response.

Her own back straightened, "Right. Let's get moving then."

There was still a hell of a lot left to do before this whole situation could ever be considered truly resolved. Given what it had taken and the cost to reach this point, Kimball was damn sure going to see it start to happen now.

---

A lot of things had been racing through Simmons' mind ever since he woke up on the cold ground of Sidewinder in a tent that had been set up to deal with any medical situations that had arisen.

For starters, he was incredibly fine, more or less, despite having been shot.

As Doctor Grey had explained, while the Above Grounder had definitely been injured due to the bullet and that explained the blood loss that had now been excellently dealt with as soon as the more pressing matter of reviving him from his other gunshot-related injury had been taken care of, the injury to his cybernetics had been what had ultimately nearly shut him down.

Basically, the dark-skinned woman had the knowledge necessary to jumpstart that part of his body. So, while she still believed a thorough examination and a full checkup and healing period were in order, he was already okay to move around so long as he didn't stress things too much.

So, he'd nearly been down and out for the count because he was part machine now, but was also able to be on his feet again a lot quicker on account of that too. Simmons was honestly not sure what to make of that.

Truthfully, though, he had found it hard to focus on a lot of things since he had woken up. The general confusion of the situation was certainly a large factor as he had been out for a while during the really big moments and had to get filled in on all of those from the others, as did his general discomfort.

The redhead could move around freely according to Doctor Grey, but his wound still hurt and there was an ache in the cybernetics that now took up the functions of his heart and lungs due to said injury too and how long they had been at low-power. Which had also equated to an ache in the rest of his body as well. His head in particular really fucking hurt.

Also, having Grif hugging him as he woke up before he'd even begun to process his thoughts had done a damn good job of short-circuiting his brain too, while causing the rest of his body to go into overdrive.

Grif must have apparently realized what he was doing and just how awkward it was, because he had pretty much bolted the second his own thoughts seemed to have formed on the situation. All the while, leaving Simmons to wonder just what the hell had happened.

Truthfully, the cyborg wasn't sure he could necessarily take the knowing looks that had been sent his way from Sarge, Doctor Grey, Doc, and Donut.

Simmons was grateful when Sarge had excused himself to go get ready to head off with Kimball to confront the Council with their findings, though why the older soldier needed to use a "secret exit" by lifting up the back of the tent instead of just the actual entrance he still couldn't quite figure out. The Above Grounder had pretty much bolted himself the second afterward to follow Grif, ignoring the equally knowing and surprised looks that went his way from Grif's sister and the other younger Resistance recruits outside.

The redhead honestly didn't know what was going on with a lot of things right now. They had won, he knew that. In a way, he could scarcely believe it but he knew it was true.

They had actually fucking won.

He didn't even register the cold really as his mind went through the reel of endless thoughts and concerns it was trying to navigate, though that also was due to his body being more temperature controlled as well thanks to his cybernetics.

Even as he wanted to celebrate that victory a little, Simmons couldn't help but wonder what would happen next all the same. He'd heard enough snippets around the area to know that was a question largely up in the air for everyone else too.

Kimball, Doyle, and a few other representatives would be heading immediately to Above Ground to speak with the Council and present them with the information they had managed to get from what used to be the base at this location. They'd provide them with hard evidence of Hargrove's machinations not only against the Slums, but his massive power plays within the government of Above Ground as well.

It would all really depend on how the rest of the Council and those in power ended up responding.

Would a ceasefire even be possible given how long hostilities had been going on between the two sides, even with the newfound evidence of how so much of this new particular conflict had started from manufactured hostility? Would Above Ground finally allow residents of the Slums full citizenry and rights, or grant them full travel access?

Would Hargrove and those who had gone along with him be punished? Would his being removed from power create a vacuum in the Council that would end up causing something even worse to happen?

What would happen to Simmons' own father in light of everything?

The cyborg knew now that the asshole had known all along about what was really going on, had even allowed his own son to unknowingly take part in it. The redhead had no doubt that his father's name would show up in those intel files somewhere. He knew his dad would be massively disappointed regarding Simmons' involvement with the Resistance now, but honestly he didn't give a fuck about that anymore.

There were a lot of questions that would need definite answers in the upcoming days. Countless ones, really. With both complicated and simple answers.

But, at this moment? None of that mattered to Simmons as much as catching up to Grif did.

The redhead had nearly thought that he had lost the Slums dweller yet again before his own injury, and Grif had evidently been just as terrified about losing him too if that bone-crushing hug had been any indication.

Simmons wasn't about to let either of them run away from this anymore, especially now that there was finally a chance to not have it be on the backburner for once.

He actually caught up to Grif not too far away from where the tents were.

The dumbass had run out into the freezing terrain without his armor on, so it was pretty understandable why he wasn't going far. The tan-skinned man was standing at a rock outcropping that shielded him from the others' view, teeth chattering loudly.

"You might have a layer of blubber, fat ass, but running out without proper gear on still wasn't a bright idea." Simmons joked the second he got near enough to.

Grif's lips were turning slightly blue, but he stopped shivering enough to give him the finger, "Says the nerd who is comprised of a whole lot of fucking metal."

"I have body temperature regulators now though." The cyborg retorted, standing next to Grif by the outcropping wall.

"So, you're a space heater?" The Slums dweller asked, managing to somehow sound both mocking and impressed all at once, "See, Simmons? Being…a cyborg has some p—perks."

Simmons knew Grif was probably referring to the fact that he wasn't a whole lot worse off now given what had happened earlier. He supposed he couldn't argue that point, but he wasn't sure he really wanted to talk a ton about it either.

"Still fucking freezing though." Simmons shivered for added emphasis, glancing at Grif worriedly.

The orange-wearing man was definitely not looking too good for racing out in the cold temperatures of Sidewinder like he had, and there was the tell-tale sign of blood showing through his bandages again.

"You saved everyone, you know." Simmons was suddenly talking, unbidden, "By—by opening up the hole in the shielding. If you hadn't, everyone would be dead now."

Grif was staring at the Above Grounder as if he was taking a few moments to process his speech. So, Simmons felt the need to really push forward regardless.

"Fuck it! That was pretty kick ass. In any other situation, I would have probably wanted nothing more than to be sitting right next to you when it was happening and laughing." The redhead continued, ignoring how his face had turned hot despite the sharp freezing temperatures they were in, "But, then I saw you afterwards. I remembered all of your injuries and I…"

The maroon-wearing man took a deep breath, willed himself not to cry, "All I could think about was how fucking scared I was that I had lost you."

Simmons had needed to get to him just then. That had been his only thought when he had seen Grif lying there. If the cyborg could have just gotten to him, maybe he could have—

"You've been nothing but one impressive nerd who has gone out of his way to save my ass and a whole shitload of strangers' asses too when you didn't have to." Grif said just as quickly, interrupting the Above Grounder's thoughts.

Simmons stared at him, surprised at the intense look that had crossed over Grif's features.

"W—when you got shot, when you were lying there and not moving?" The Slums dweller frowned, looking both angry and scared all at once, "I thought…I thought I'd lost you."

Grif sighed before continuing, "That fucking scared the shit out of me."

They stared at one another for a moment, the look that passed between the two of them managing to convey what felt like a fucking lifetime of words and emotions all at once.

Then they were laughing and, though both would vehemently deny it to anyone who asked about it later, crying. Suddenly they were kissing one another as if a dam had just fucking broke and the only way either of them would be able to survive was to suck the air from the others' lungs.

When they pulled away reluctantly quite some time later, it felt like it was both an eternity and yet way too damn short all at once for Simmons' liking, their faces were both very much flushed from more than just the cold. Their arms were still gripping onto one another as if they both needed the other for a lifeline.

That was most likely the case, now that Simmons thought about it. He pulled Grif into an even tighter embrace for a split second, the two relaxing and melting into one another.

"L—let's continue this later, okay?" Simmons finally managed to get out, knowing, albeit reluctantly, that they probably should get back to the tent.

"You mean once we're all healed up and not freezing our asses off?" Grif joked back, an unsuppressed tint of eagerness in his voice at the prospect.

The cyborg nodded, pulling away from Grif to allow the Resistance fighter to lean against him for support as they made their way back towards the tent they had left earlier.

Simmons knew there were a lot of concerns and issues that would need addressing in the days that followed. As his anxiety threatened to overtake him, Grif pulled him in closer. The tan hand resting on his shoulder a reassuring one.

Still, as long as everyone here was safe? As long as he knew Grif was okay, and that they would be sticking together from here on out?

Well, that knowledge alone was enough to drive all of the other matters away.

---

Author's Notes: Wowza, this final chapter definitely was a long time coming!

I am so, SO sorry that it took as long as it did to get this chapter posted. It was supposed to be out much earlier, but real life has been drop-kicking me a ton these past few months and unfortunately hasn't been really letting up at all. Amidst a whole lot of personal crises and family medical problems, work on the story seemed to move at a snail's pace. Even though it ended up being one of the longer chapters for this fic, I apologize for the lateness.

In the end, this story had more of a "the journey is more important than the destination" feel to it and I've been worried about just how the ending would play out. To be honest, I don't know if the ending is a good one or not given that. All I can really say about this chapter is that I hope, at the very least, it wasn't too terrible and that some sections and moments in it were enjoyable even with the longer wait!

Next up (and hopefully in a way faster time frame!) is the Epilogue to see what is going on with everyone past this point in the plot, and then I will be stepping away from the Above Ground-verse for a bit to focus on some other RvB stories I've had in the works. I have mixed feelings about that too, honestly. I'm glad to have reached the end of such a long project, but sad to see it end as well since I really loved fleshing out this verse and seeing how the characters and relationships developed in it.

It's been a pleasure writing AG even when I struggled with getting chapters out due to things going on, and I just want to thank everyone who has stuck with the story and enjoyed it so far. Thank you so much, and I hope that this final chapter and the Epilogue will both be satisfactory to you! You guys have really kept me going, and I can't thank you enough for that. I hope to see you at the Epilogue and with some of my other stories too! :D