Days have passed since the firefight between West Virginia and the Simulation Soldiers. Tensions were high outside of Blue Base. Grif and Simmons were still fuming about their injuries. Grif had ended up wearing a crudely made cast over his injured wrist; something that Grif wasn't very happy about. And Simmons was just annoyed that he let his fear get to him again when West had attacked.

As for the Blues, they were just dreading the fact that another Freelancer was in the Valley. In the past, all of the Freelancers had been on their team. And this was one Freelancer that they didn't want.

The Reds and Blues were bunking at Red Base while Wash, West, and Doc had temporarily transformed Blue Base into an infirmary.

West, who had been slipping in and out of consciousness in the past few days, was currently sleeping in Church's bed. She wasn't a good sleeper, by any means. West would restlessly turn about and throw the covers everywhere. Occasionally, West would snore like a drunken sailor, and Doc would come running into her temporary room, believing that she was trying to strangle herself,

But when West was awake, Wash would say that she'd better off be asleep. West constantly argued with Wash with her last amount of strength before passing out again. Other than that, West constantly kept her guard up when Doc came by to check on her wounds or give her aspirin. At one point, when West was in a fouler mood than usual, she had attempted to bite Doc's hands off. Doc had left the room screaming his head off that day.

And it took all of Wash's strength to hold his laughter in.

Wash had spent most of his time at West's bedside. He didn't do it out of old feelings for the other Freelancer. Hell, he still had ice cold opinions of her. Wash would rather have North, York, or even C.T. than West.

But he decided to stay close by West for one simple reason: Wash didn't want her to escape or disappear. Something from his horrible past had remained after all this time, and Wash didn't want to risk losing it. Whether he liked West or not, they were attached through memories and experiences.

As West slept, Wash closely observed her chest rise and fall with each breath.

"Are you in there, Phi?" Wash asked West's immobile body. "I know that West couldn't have lived this long without you. Phi?"

But Wash's questions were left unanswered. Wash waited to see if his questions had aroused West before continuing his pointless interrogation with an AI unit that wasn't there. West wasn't.

"You remember me Phi? I'm the guy you told West to punch in the face. Multiple times. I still haven't forgiven you about that." Wash said it as if to make a joke, but it came off sounding confidential.

It was silent again as Wash waited for a response. But again, there was no reaction of any sort.

"Eh, who am I kidding? She's more demented than ever." Wash said to himself as he stood up. "There's no AI in her head."

Wash walked out of Church's room and straight into Doc. Doc was carrying medical supplies into the room and dropped them on the floor as they collided. Syringes and pill containers clattered against Wash's metallic boots. Both Wash and Doc watched the pill containers roll down the hall.

"Oh, Sorry about that Wash. Clumsy me." Doc apologized, being his goofy self.

Doc bent down to pick up the pair of syringes. One fell through his fingers and cracked. The other was less unfortunate and remained intact. Wash just sighed and stepped out of the way. Other than that, Wash offered no other help. But Doc didn't mind, or even notice.

Doc then proceeded to crawl down the hall, searching for at least one of the pill containers. He finally found one and promptly picked it up. Doc clumsily got to his feet and smiled at Wash.

"There we go! No damage done." Doc said cheerfully as he headed into Church's room. However, Wash's arm shot through the doorway and blocked the entrance off.

"Whoa, wait a second Doc. What are you going to do with that needle there?" Wash said, concerned.

"Well, I thought that if I give her some morphine—"

"It won't work." Wash cut Doc off.

"All I was going to say was that I was going to give her some morphine so that I can properly check her. You know, without her trying to bite parts of my body off. It's either that or another tranquillizer." Doc explained as he tried entering Church's room again. "And I don't want to waste one of those on her again. Those were expensive to ship, and not at all healthy for the environment."

Wash sighed, but didn't warn Doc further. Slowly, Wash let his outstretched arm fall to his side. Doc nodded his head as a thank you and continued into the room where West was sleeping. Wash didn't want to see the outcome and headed towards the kitchen.

Once there, Wash headed towards the fridge and found an unopened can of beer. Wash didn't know how the Red Team had smuggled beer in Valhalla, but he didn't question it either. Quickly, Wash popped the beer can open and slumped into an unoccupied chair. Wash took a gulp and waited for any sign that Doc needed help. Wash waited for a minute.

And then another minute.

And then another.

Wash found his can of beer empty after awhile. He stood up and threw the can into the trash compactor and left the kitchen. He was curious to see what had happened to Doc within the last few minutes. Wash made his way towards Church's room, but froze outside the doorway. His instincts told Wash to just turn around and let Doc be, and any other day, Wash would have listened. But since that the other last remaining Freelancer was on the other side of the door, Wash ignored his instincts.

Slowly, Wash peered through the room's open doorway. What Wash saw could only be described as interesting. Not funny, not frightening, just interesting.

West was awake at the moment and was glaring at Doc. She was sitting upright with her working hand extended out. The other one was also extended, but Doc was holding that arm's wrist so he could inject the morphine in her system. However, Doc was frozen in the position he currently was in. The syringe in his open hand was merely inches away from West's flesh.

The thing that had stop Doc wasn't that West was awake. Upon further inspection, Wash could see that West held the cracked syringe in her hand. She was also holding it inches away from Doc's bare skin. It was a silent threat. If Doc stuck that needle in her, West would probably stab Doc repeatedly until he was out of her stabbing distance.

"I warned you Doc, West's not the one for needles." Wash said as he finally entered the room.

Wash's voice caught West's attention and her eyes shifted to him. Doc took this opportunity and foolishly stuck the needle into West. West let out a cry as Doc pressed the morphine into her system. After a second's delay, West took a swing at Doc. However, Doc was surprisingly fast enough to get out of harm's way.

"There." Doc said as he backed further away. "Thanks for the help Wash."

West sluggishly turned her head to glare at Wash. But In her weaken state Wash wasn't intimidated by her eyes. Wash held up his hands in a semi-defensive position.

"Hey, I didn't have any part in this." Wash said as he sat down in the chair by the bed.

"Fuck you." West muttered. She then flinched subtly. Her eyes then flashed to where Doc had punctured her skin. "What the hell did you put in me?"

"Oh, you know, just morphine to keep the pain from hurting you. And so you'll be too lethargic to attack me." Doc said.

"It doesn't feel like morphine." West said through gritted teeth.

"Oh . . ." Doc said, "Then I don't . . . know what I just . . . injected into you."

"It stings, man." West grunted as she turned her back on Wash to keep an eye on Doc. "Reminds me of hot peppers."

"Oh!" Doc exclaimed as he finally remembered. "It's Capsaicin, the stuff that makes habaneras hot. I like to add it to my salad dressing. I must have put the morphine in the pantry and that with my medical supplies. Sorry!"

West let out a weak growl, and Doc fled the room to put the Capsaicin back in the right place. The two Freelancers watched Doc as he made his retreat. Once West was sure that Doc was gone, she turned to face Wash. She was still in a foul mood, but was at least calm enough to hold a somewhat decent conversation.

"So," West started, nodding her head slightly, "You're alive."

"Yeah, and you are too." Wash added.

Wash started to rub his knees as he tried to come up with something to talk about. Now that West was finally awake long enough to chat, he seemed to lose all of his collected thoughts. He chewed his bottom lip as he tried to recollect his last question for her. West just watched as she waited.

"How did you survive?" Wash finally formed the right words.

"Same way you did. Faked my death and took another set of armor." West informed. Her head was still hanging to one side, and she seemed irritated about that. "Spent the last few years here and there on this planet. Actually, I was able to stow away on a cargo ship right after my death. I finished some business on Earth and came back."

"Why did you come back?! If I had the choice to go back home, I would have stayed there." Wash became sidetracked.

"Because my business on Earth was finished, but it wasn't done here." West answered vaguely, still flinching from the Capsaicin.

Wash understood what West meant and let that subject drift away. Besides, he had other questions to ask before she fell asleep again.

"What happened to Phi?" Wash demanded, sounding unpleasant in the process.

West ignored Wash's irritable tone and took in a deep breath before answering. "Destroyed. I was at Command a couple months ago, raiding supplies when an EMP went off. Scared the shit out of me and I fled as quickly as I could on foot. I didn't know Phi was destroyed until I thought I was at a far away distance."

"Oh." Wash said awkwardly, connecting her claims to his memories. He was the one that had destroyed Phi with the help from Church. Wash felt a bit guilty about that, but reassured himself that the needs justified the cause in this case. "I'm sorry about your loss."

"Yeah, me too." West muttered to herself quietly.

They waited in silence to see who would speak up first after that. They didn't make eye contact; years of bickering and quarreling had left them harboring awkward feelings for each other. West was sure that if they continued talking, one of them was bound to throw a punch sooner or later. Wash was thinking the same thing.

Their silence was shattered as Doc entered the room again, whistling a tune neither of the Freelancers knew. West tensed right up again and let her predatory-like eyes rest on him. However, to West's relief, Doc wasn't holding any syringes or other medical supplies. Instead, Doc was holding a pair of shorts and a T-shirt with the Blue Army logo on the front. Of course, it was color coordinated from the blue spectrum of colors.

"What's that for?" West asked, wary. Her thoughts instantly went to the idea of him dressing her.

"Well, you've been sleeping in those clothes for more than three days. And I think you'll be more comfortable in these." Doc explained.

"Naw, I'm done sleeping." West said as she tried to get out of the bed. "I need to get out of here. Stretch my legs, and other stuff."

"Oh no! You need your rest more than anything. Now go back to sleep." Doc ordered.

"I've been sleeping for almost a week straight. Like I said, I need to stretch my legs, finish my job here, and get the hell out." West said harshly as she attempted to swing her legs to the side of the bed.

"And what exactly is your job?" Wash questioned.

West didn't answer until she had both of her feet firmly on the ground. And even after that, she only grumbled a semi-coherent answer.

"Information from Caboose." West mumbled.

The other two soldiers just barely heard West's reply, but they understood her words.

"You want information. From Caboose." Doc stated slowly. Wash frowned and pushed his glasses further up his nose bridge. He sounded doubtful, reflecting Wash's feelings. "You do realize that Caboose is an idiot."

"My sources already told me that. So yes, I do." West said as she clumsily used her working arm to push her out of the bed.

"And who, exactly, are your sources?" Wash asked, sounding professional once again.

"You don't need to know." West snapped. "Now get the hell out. I need to change."

Wash knew to stop pressing for details at the moment. West was still pretty hot-tempered, and he was already pushing his luck. The two men quickly left the room. West stumbled to the door like a drunken sailor. She slammed the door right on their heels, and locked herself tightly inside.

Wash and Doc were left staring at each other. Both weren't sure about their feelings with West meeting the rest of the Simulation Soldiers. Wash was sure that West wouldn't be able to kill anyone in her current state. But she could still do some damage before someone could get her under control.

Finally, Wash made a decision.

"Go radio the other guys at Red Base. Tell them that we're having an immediate meeting on the hill. It's time we get acquainted without someone loosing blood." Wash ordered Doc. "I'll go and get the Mongooses ready."

"Uh, Wash? Do you think that's a good idea?" Doc questioned, not moving from where he stood. He furrowed his eyebrows with concern.

"Look Doc, I'm not going to let West leave this valley for two reasons. One: We're the last remaining Freelancers and we need to stick together. I don't know exactly why, but something in me will not let her leave. Two: More importantly, she knows something that she isn't telling me." Wash said softly so West couldn't hear.

"You mean, "telling us" Wash?" Doc insisted.

Wash sighed and shook his head. "Sure, telling us, whatever. Either way, I'm not letting her leave. So it's now or never for the guys to meet West."

"Uh—"

"And never is not an option." Wash sternly added before Doc could say it.

Doc just shrugged his shoulders and headed towards the radio post in the back of the Rec. Room. There, he turned on the radio and signaled for someone at Red Base. Wash nodded his head and turned to go outside where the pair of Mongooses awaited him.

Doc sat at the radio post and waited for someone to answer his call. With the amount of people bunking at Red Base, he didn't think it would take long for someone to answer. However, Doc unfortunately spent about five minutes waiting. Finally, one of the Simulation Soldiers picked up the line and answered very professionally.

"Thank you for calling Red Base, this is Sarge, how may I assist you today?" A gruff voice asked impatiently.

"Oh hi Sarge, It's Doc calling on behalf of Wash. He wants—"

"Damn it Grif! I told you to not let those Dirty Blues into our Kitchen. They could create a meat bomb large enough to kill us all! How could be so dumb!? Oh wait, now I know. Because you're Grif!" Sarge yelled, ignoring Doc.

"No I didn't! Caboose just barged in, saying that he wanted orange juice." Grif cried loud enough for Doc to hear.

"Eh, shut your pie hole!" Sarge yelled before focusing on Doc. "What does Wash want us to do, Doc?"

"He wants to hold an emergency meeting as soon as possible." Doc said before lowering his voice. "Wash wants you guys to meet the new Freelancer."

Both lines went silent.

". . . We'll be there in ten minutes" Sarge said before abruptly hanging up.

Doc thought it was rude, but didn't put much more thought about it. He turned off the radio and headed outside to check up on Wash. Doc found Wash putting more air pressure in one of the back wheels. He was surprised to find that Wash wasn't in any of his armor. Wash just had his Freelancer Tank top on with a pair of cargo shorts.

"Sarge said that they'll be at the hill in ten minutes." Doc said before adding, "Should we put our armor on?"

"I'm not. I don't want to spook West into thinking we were going to attack her. If I'm not in my armor, she'll probably think it's safe to also leave her armor here." Wash explained.

"Oh, okay." Doc nodded his head, agreeing with Wash's logic. "Should we get going?"

"As soon as West is out of that room, we're leaving." Wash said.

And just as Wash said that, a large thud came from inside Blue Base. It was followed by a high pitched "Son of a Bitch!" Both of the men looked inside to see a feeble West lying on her back. She was trying to get up by herself, but it wasn't working. She basically looked like a dying turtle. Doc and Wash hurried over to pick West up.

"Who left a fucking pill bottle on the floor?!" West seethed.

Doc didn't answer, but his face had gone from its natural coloring to a pale white. That was enough of an answer for West. She grumbled and knocked their hands away so she could steady herself without help. West looked down to her left side to see some red seeping into the royal blue colored shirt.

"Shit." West muttered.

"The fall must have started the bleeding again. Let me put some bandages on." Doc said as he grabbed some gauze from his small kit.

West didn't retaliate from the medic's touch. She knew the bleeding had to be stopped, and sooner would be better than later in this case. The only fight she put up was some threats to Doc's life that were barely audible. Finally, the new gauze was in place and West pushed the medic away from here.

"Finally, now we can go." Wash said as he turned around and made the way outside.

"One question: Where are we going?" West nervously asked as she followed.