Silence.

Long, tense, unbroken silence.

He could almost feel it; the electricity that crackled and pulsated in the air between them, only the slightest hesitation keeping them all from being struck where they stood.

And then, movement.

It began with the slightest flicker; South's eyes, as her gaze snapped to something behind him. The fire in her eyes receded fractionally, taking a back seat behind her irises. Her expression darkened, her jaw clenching in defiance.

And then, the smallest of sounds; a heavy metal boot, scraping against the floor as its owner settled into a new position, one behind Wash's left shoulder. Another sound, a new owner also moved behind his right.

A crackle, the sound of an energy sword being activated.

A hiss, the smallest intake of breath between South's clenched teeth. Her eyes flashed.

"No, he's not." A voice, flat and matter-of-fact, rang through the air. Tucker spoke with conviction, with the barest hint of fury as he spat the words from Wash's right.

"If you want Wash, you'll have to get past us," Sarge declared gruffly. Wash hid his surprise; he had been sure that the Reds disliked him. He cocked his shotgun, and moved to stand behind the ex-Freelancer. Without hesitation, Grif and Simmons joined him. And then, after a slight pause, Doc and Donut joined him warily.

Silence stretched between them, this time laced with determination. South's gaze roved over the collection of soldiers, her thoughts unreadable. Her fingers played idly with the hilt of her pistol, but her hand was relaxed, thoughtful. Behind her, Carolina slowly stood. Her helmet had fallen away, revealing the fury in her vivid green eyes and the stubborn set in her jaw. Miraculously, though, she remained silent.

South's hand dropped away from her weapon. Wash watched the action carefully, distrustfully. But her movements were slow, resigned. "No," she agreed. Her gaze returned to pierce his own. "Not today."

It was not a victory, but triumph seared his chest anyway. Together, in an act of fierce loyalty, his friends had stood behind him, ready to attack and defend. And South had turned away, the odds too heavily stacked against her for there to be any other course. But still, her words took root in his mind and he met her gaze evenly. Not today, he agreed silently. But soon. South nodded, almost imperceptibly. The smallest of smirks twitched across her lips, but he knew that she was not amused. Only determined.

"Carolina, we need to talk." South glanced at the ex-Freelancer, who made no move to show that she had heard, or indeed respond at all. After a pause, South turned on her heel and strode out of the room.

A stupid mistake; he could make that shot in his sleep.

Easily, he began to take aim. One eye closed automatically as he lined up the shot – it had to be perfect. But suddenly, a cool hand was placed lightly over his own. Wash looked up in surprise.

"No, Wash," Carolina chastised gently. His eyebrows rose in disbelief, but the red-headed soldier turned to watch South leave. Her eyes were filled with understanding, but still she pushed his weapon away. "Let her go."

Grudgingly, he stopped. "Why?" Wash asked simply. South was a threat; not just to himself, but to their mission. And threats were made to be eradicated.

"Because," Carolina began, "I understand."

Wash's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he let the matter drop. One thing he knew, however; Carolina was mistaken. His mind rang with five words that South had once spoken softly to him, the truth of which he had at first denied, but now accepted. Carolina was wrong; they both had been.

No one can ever understand.

South moved smoothly into the hall, and turned to the right. Absently, she wandered the halls, waiting. On the edge of her hearing, a fight soon erupted from the room she had just vacated – South smirked smugly, and then proceeded to ignore the booming voices.

As she walked, her façade slipped away. Her strides grew shorter, her shoulders drooping as her eyelids fought to stay upright. Adrenaline had kept her going, but now, away from the danger, her exhaustion slipped through the cracks.

South stopped, and slid slowly down the wall. Her legs folded awkwardly beneath her, and she tipped her head back until it rested on the smooth metal. Her eyelids slid closed, her breathing deepened. Perhaps, for just a moment, she could sleep… after all, there was no one around…

And then, her deadening exhaustion won through, and her mind entered the realm of darkness and peace. For perhaps a minute, her fatigue held the monsters of her mind at bay, but then they two slipped through the cracks, and they brought forward the most terrifying weapon of all; her memories.

Pain. Burning, tearing, all-consuming pain. But then, that was to be expected. You didn't get out of a fight with Maine scot-free.

No, not Maine. The Meta. Yes… that was his name, now. The Meta and Sigma, now joined by Eta and Iota. He was insane, now; Maine, that is. Funny, how while everyone was so worried about Carolina they had failed to notice their friend's mental deterioration.

South pulled short, stuttering gasps through her ragged lungs, struggling to breathe. Her cheek was pressed against the rough concrete – her helmet must have unclipped in the explosion. The concrete was cool, steady, reassuring. South closed her eyes for just a heartbeat, drinking in the unfamiliar feeling.

And then she was up; running towards him. She threw herself at the insane Freelancer, but too slow. Maine – the Meta, she corrected herself angrily – swung his Brute Shot, catching her under her chest guard and sending her flying through the air.

BANG!

The Sniper Rifle shot rang out loudly, and the Meta snarled in anger. South heard her brother yell something as he reloaded. She didn't hear it though; it was blocked out by the rather painful sound of her collision with the wall of the concrete base.

South slid down the wall and coughed, the air hacking its way out of her lungs. She turned her head to the side, and spat. Blood mixed with spittle flew out of her mouth, which she wiped raggedly. Her body trembled, and she cursed its traitorous nature.

Her leg pounded achingly, but she forced it to carry her weight. The injury, a direct result from her jumping off the base roof, trembled but she ignored it, and limped forward. The Meta had turned away from her, instead raising his Brute Shot to her brother. North paled, and dove to the side, away from the resultant explosion. He ran through the rubble, and South could tell that he was following the direct orders of Theta as he navigated the sharp maze.

BOOM!

North was sent flying, much as she had been, and he smacked into the ground a fair distance away. The Meta snarled in victory, and stalked forward. South raised her gun, aiming carefully. After a moment, she jammed her finger down on the trigger, sending bullets ricocheting off of Maine's armour. He spun around, and fired.

South dove away from the blast, rolling smoothly but losing her rifle in the process. She came up swiftly, and forced her legs to move. She ran, her heart pounding unsteadily in her chest, away from the Meta.

Too late, a hand gripped the back of her armour, and flung her backwards. South skidded along the ground, sparks spraying up behind her. The Meta growled, and stalked towards her.

South was paralyzed, unable to move from fear. Her mouth went dry, her hands trembling, and she couldn't see straight as she struggled to crawl away. The Meta kicked her savagely, sending her spinning onto her back. He placed a foot over her chest, and leant all his weight onto it.

She couldn't breathe. The air was driven from her lungs, and the Meta kept a steady pressure on her chest to prevent its return. South gasped desperately, her eyes widening as the Meta, very deliberately, raised his Brute Shot. Was that a smile, as he aimed the barrel at her unprotected head?

Was this really how it was going to end? After a lifetime of struggling against her enemies, of pushing the boundaries set upon her by others, her life was really going to be ended by someone she'd once counted as a friend?

Funny, how that worked. She would always, always be betrayed.

BANG!

The Meta snarled in fury, turning away from her, and North sent another bullet forwards. It buried itself into the Meta's shoulder. He snarled, and spun on her twin with his gun raised. Click.

South wanted to crow in victory, but the Meta simply threw his Brute Shot aside. He leapt towards North, knocking his rifle out of his hands.

A flurry of motion, most too quick for her to catch as they fought. The repetitive thuds as armoured hands met equally armoured bodies rang out through the base, and South slowly climbed to her feet. Before her, North kept up bravely, but then the Meta raised his fist and let loose a brutal punch on his visor. Her twin was sent flying through the air, and collided painfully with the base wall. He slid slowly down, gasping for breath.

South threw herself at the Meta, knocking him over with the force of her strike. But he recovered quickly, and pushed her away with a powerful kick. South groaned from the pain, but pressed onwards. The Meta's armour began to glow – it appeared to be wreathed in flames. What the hell…?

South grabbed the bottom of his helmet, and yanked savagely. But it didn't come away, and instead the Meta raised his right arm, and back-handed her across the face. South screamed, her fingers flying to her cheek as some protruding piece of armour cut savagely into her skin. She was sent skidding across the floor.

The Meta rose, and shook himself roughly as though to be rid of dirt. The flames burned even brighter for just a moment, and he strode towards her. South tried to crawl away, grabbing at her pistol as she did so, and attempted to fire a few shots. But the Meta never even flinched.

He grabbed her by the throat, and lifted her off the ground. South's legs kicked out uselessly, striking nothing but empty air. She couldn't breathe – could feel her life slowly been drawn away from her. Her eyes bulged as she tried to suck down oxygen, but the steady pressure on her throat prevented it. Black spots began to crowd in on her vision, and everything turned steadily darker.

"SOUTH!"

The scream slowly wound its way through the fog, eventually making it through to her brain. Was that North, she wondered? Strange, he was screaming her name. Funny, that. He'd already betrayed her once – why should he care that the Meta was simply doing the same?

Pain. A bright, sparking explosion of pain as the back of her head met the concrete base wall. She gasped, sucking in air as fast as she could. The pressure had been released on her throat, and so she opened her eyes once she had fallen to the ground.

The Meta was still, watching as North threw himself out of the concrete wall with a strength that could only have come from desperate adrenaline. He howled, and yelled something unintelligible at the Meta.

And then, slowly, deliberately, the Meta bent down. His hands scraped against the floor, retrieving his Brute Shot, though it was out of ammunition. North activated his bubble shield.

The Meta ran, pounding easily towards the safe haven. Every sound was muted, and so South heard nothing as the Meta screamed and entered the bubble; South could only watch the distorted fight through the rippling shield. For a while, the fight seemed equal. North struck out with speed and precision, whereas the Meta retaliated with brute strength. But it was not to last.

The shield fell silently, and South could only wonder why. Theta could have kept it up for much, much longer, so long as North had still been – oh.

A curved, wicked blade jutted out of his chest. North's mouth moved in short, sharp gasps. The Meta turned away, roaring his animalistic victory. South felt a great weight close down on her chest, though no such thing was visible. The Meta turned, and yanked the blade out of North's chest, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him towards South as the action was completed.

No….

North fell limply, his chest and heartbeat moving too slowly. South watched him, bizarrely detached. This was the end of her twin – the end of their connection. Surely, shouldn't she save him?

A few metres away, a Medi-Pack lay discarded. It was dirty and old, but undoubtedly still usable. South knew she should retrieve it, to help her brother heal so that they might live. The Meta was distracted, not watching them. But in a moment, he would come, to retrieve Theta and his bubble shield.

But South did not even try to move. Perhaps, it was because North was still alive. He was still, his life-blood seeping out of him slowly, but he still just lay there. Perhaps he was unable to move. But he, not once, turned his head to look at South as she was watching him. Maybe, it was because he presumed she was already dead. But something deep and dark inside of her screamed, and knew that wasn't the case.

So she too lay there. Still, unmoving.

Perhaps she should have saved him. But she knew, that when the Meta came for Theta, he would not bother to check her. He thought she was dead, too.

Did no one have any faith in her at all?

And when the Meta was gone, she could move. The Medi-Pack beckoned, waiting just beyond her reach. She could heal herself, and be away with the wind.

And so she waited, until her brother's breath stilled and the Meta retrieved his prize. She lay still, not breathing, as the insane Freelancer passed her. And when he was gone, in the silence, she became aware of a much more deadly sound.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

She knew that sound. The constant beep of an automatic recovery beacon. There were ways to deactivate it, but no doubt it had been beeping since her fight with the Meta. It was too late, now.

And so she retrieved the Medi-Pack, pawing through its contents hurriedly. Eventually, she found what she was looking for; two needles. South removed her glove, and inserted the first one into her forearm. Almost instantly, the pain disappeared.

She lay down, a few feet away from her brother. It was only then that she inserted the next needle, which brought her swiftly to unconsciousness.

All she needed to do was lie, and fool whatever stupid soldier was sent after her. It would be too easy.

South glanced, as her consciousness faded away, one last time at her brother. He lay still, peaceful. She felt no remorse over her past actions, nor the lies she would have to tell once the soldier arrived.

She would always, always be betrayed. And maybe the time had come for her to start repaying those favors.

When she awoke, her body was trembling. Her body and mind seemed more exhausted than before. South struggled to hold back a cry.

"South."

She jumped, quickly climbing to her feet to face the possible threat. When she saw who it was, she tensed even further.

"Wash," she replied, just as coldly.

They studied each other, both bodies tense and ready for a fight. But Wash cocked his head to the side, and continued.

"Having a bad dream?" he asked darkly. South started, only just managing to cover her surprise.

"I wouldn't say it was bad," she replied smoothly. Her armour hid her trembling, and she managed to keep her voice steady. She had long been a master at the art of deception. Wash raised an eyebrow.

"You know, I don't think I've ever heard you scream. Until just now, of course."

She stayed silent, and crossed her arms. Wash was trying to goad her into an attack, and she knew it. Usually, it might have worked, but not after what she had just re-witnessed. She was too tired.

"Where's Carolina?" she asked, after a while. Her voice lacked its usual bite, and Wash's gaze narrowed.

"They're leaving," he said shortly. "She and Church are going to find the Director. The rest of us are staying behind."

"What?"

"You heard me," he replied coolly.

"Coward," she snapped. Her eyes flashed in anger.

Wash remained silent, and so she continued. "You had one job, Wash! One! To help Carolina kill the Director! I guess I should've known you'd give up on us. I always knew you were a coward."

"This has nothing to do with cowardice, bitch," Wash snarled. He stepped closer. "That is your area of expertise."

"Oh, just shut up, would you? You know absolutely nothing!"

"Fine." Wash gazed at her shrewdly. "Go."

"What?"

"You're leaving. I don't care where you go. Just leave."

"Make me," she snapped childishly. Her hands curled into fists by her sides.

"I don't have to, South. But you will. We both know you're not welcome here."

"Oh, and you think that you are? They don't care about you, Wash!" South laughed. "To them, you're nothing but a replacement! A replacement for their stupid, dumb, fucking A.I. They will never welcome you, Wash. You've betrayed them before; who's to say you won't do it again? You are not welcome with them, Wash. They only want your presence. And not yours, either. They'd happily trade you in for their old buddy."

"Shut it, South," Wash snapped quickly. She smirked, realizing she had found his weak point. "You don't know them."

"You're right, I don't." South brushed past him, and walked away. She needed to find Carolina. "But neither do you."

"You're just being petty and jealous, South!" he called after her. But South simply laughed.

"Jealous? Why the fuck would I be jealous of you, replacement?" She snorted bitterly. "They don't want you here, Wash. Get used to it."

Wash watched her retreat bitterly. "Obviously, this is old news to you, right South? You know exactly how it feels to be unwanted."

It was a low blow, and South stopped moving. She turned back to face him, but her features were oddly calm. "Of course I do," she replied. She made to walk away again, but stopped. "Don't get too comfy, Wash," she said warningly. Her lips twitched upwards into a cold smirk. "You know I'll be coming back for you."

"I'll be waiting," he replied, just as threateningly. South nodded, and finally walked away.

"Church?"

Wash turned at the childish voice, and sighed inwardly when he saw it was Caboose. "It's Washington," he corrected.

"Come on, Church!" Caboose grabbed his hand and tugged. "Tucker got his sword stuck in the base wall."

"What?"

"Tucker did it," Caboose supplied instantly. "Church, we must go!"

There it was again. No matter how much he corrected Caboose, the simulation soldier never got his name right.

They don't want you here, Wash.

Get used to it.

A/N: Hey guys! This was intended as more of a filler chapter, so that some questions could be answered. So, I thought we'd take a dip into South's mind for this chapter… as dark as it is. What did you think?

Good news: my Yearly Examinations are officially over! Holidays are now less than two weeks away, and you know what that means! More updates! Yes, I know that I have been slack, and I am so, so sorry. Exams are a bitch, right? Well, now that they are over I can write more often instead of busting my brain studying.

Anyways, I don't quite like the way I ended this. Ah, well. This chapter was originally a lot longer – like, two-thousand words longer. But I cut it down, and so that means next chapter will be up faster, as I have already written part of it.

In other news, RedvsBlue is not over! In case ya'll didn't know that. I'm so excited for Season 11 (oh… the possibilities XD) and of course, RWBY.

Anyway, thanks for reading! As always, let me know what you thought, and R&R :)