A/N: A huge thank-you to all you readers, reviewers and lurkers. You guys are awesome – here, have a chapter. XD
Carolina's reflex answer was a simple no.
But she checked the words before she could utter them, and slowly looked South in the eye. Her blazing grey eyes glared back daringly, and Carolina almost denied her again. But, once more, she hesitated.
She looked away from South, and thought furiously. Absently, she ran a hand over the Mongoose by her side – Epsilon waited, invisible inside the machine. She knew he was listening, and that the A.I. probably expected her to decline South. Epsilon was probably right, she decided, but she still didn't say the words.
Carolina's gaze flickered around the canyon as she considered. Wash was sitting against a rock, cleaning his rifle slowly and methodically. The Blues were nowhere to be seen, and likewise with the Reds – both were probably in their respective Bases. Carolina exhaled, and leant backwards against the Mongoose. She eyed South slowly, and thought absently that her blue armour was wrong. It didn't match the fiery ex-Freelancer inside it. She reflected that South shouldn't be wearing it – she should be wearing her own purple and green set. Armour that matched her brother's.
Carolina crossed her arms, and frowned. She knew what Wash claimed – that South had killed her twin, or at the very least left him to die. Carolina didn't doubt it to be true. And so she raised her head, and looked her teammate in the eye. But, once more, she changed her mind.
"I'll think about it," Carolina answered slowly. South raised an eyebrow, but didn't question her.
"Good," the ex-Freelancer replied. South paused for a single moment, and then turned and walked away. Her shoulders were tight, her hands tense. Carolina shook her head.
She should have just said no – denied South, and then climbed aboard her Mongoose and driven away. It would have been simple. South could have been Wash's problem, instead of her own.
But then, she remembered why she had hesitated, and reluctantly admitted that she couldn't have done it.
Because, in that moment, Carolina had recognized a small piece of herself in South, some part of her core that closely resembled Carolina's own. And so, she had pitied the disgraced twin – because Carolina herself had been given a second chance, and why, therefore, should not South?
Wash watched out of the corner of his eye as South turned on her heel and strode away from Carolina. He frowned, confused by the lack of violence – even simple anger – in their conversation. It was… unsettling, to say the least. Because it made Wash wonder if Carolina was on his side.
And he didn't want her to be on South's.
He rose slowly to his feet and stretched, wearing from cleaning all of Blue Team's weapons. Taking care of your own equipment was basic common sense, but Tucker and Caboose wouldn't do it themselves. And, despite his lecture about How Taking Care of Your Equipment Will Save Your Life In A Firefight, they hadn't budged.
And so Wash had been left to do it himself. As per usual.
He sighed, and nudged the weapons with his feet. Tucker had refused to let him touch the Energy Sword, instead giving him his old rifle to clean. It lay, now, spotless at Wash's feet along with Caboose and Wash's own. He stared at them glumly for a moment, and then checked over his shoulder. No sign of South.
Wash neatly arranged the weapons in a line, making a mental note to return them to their owners and clipped his own to the magnetized bars on his back and hip, and turned. He walked determinedly towards the ex-Freelancer, checking occasionally over his shoulder. You could never be too careful. Carolina was circling the Mongoose, studying it critically. He scowled, anger stirring briefly in his chest, and squared his shoulders. "Carolina."
She didn't react, which either meant that she had heard him coming or was covering her surprise. Probably the former. "Yes, Wash?"
He didn't answer for a long moment, dozens of possible questions flickering briefly through his mind as he decided which to ask. Finally, he just decided he had to know. "Why did you stop me?"
"Stop you from doing what?" Her voice was weary, as though tired of playing this game. Silently, he agreed. But it was necessary.
Some things just couldn't be forgiven.
"Red Base. The basement. South turned away - I had the perfect shot. You stopped me." His tone was flat, delivering the facts without any inflection or emotion. "You stopped me," he repeated.
Carolina paused, her hand frozen on the wheel of the Mongoose. "I stopped you," she agreed. Slowly, she turned and stood, watching his reaction. "I stopped you because I think that you shouldn't shoot South."
"And why is that?" Flat, emotionless, just the barest hint of contrasting ice and anger. Wash had become very good at this game. Practice, they say, makes perfect. But Wash had never practiced the game. It came naturally to him, after being both the betrayed and the betrayer so many times before.
Carolina cocked her head to the side, and considered him. "Because I think that South and I are very much alike." Her words - delivered so determinedly and formally - only confirmed his thoughts. Carolina was good at this game too.
Silence, Wash had learned, was a good interrogation tactic. People feel awkward when presented with it, and will talk to fill the emptiness. They start to ramble, providing useless information that could be very useful indeed if you played the game right.
But Carolina had learned this too. The silence stretched between them, until Wash grew impatient.
Fine. "You are… alike?"
She watched him evenly. "You think that South tried to kill North." It wasn't a question.
"Delta told me-"
"And you think she succeeded."
"I saw the body, Carolina. I was sent to destroy it. North is dead."
She nodded slowly, biting her lip. "Do you think, Wash, that I would have tried to kill Texas, eventually?"
"That has nothing to do with-"
"Answer the question, Wash." Carolina's eyes flashed, and he set his jaw.
"You would not have betrayed the program-"
"The program was over, Wash. Do you think that, if I had had my chance, I would have attempted to kill Texas?"
He considered it slowly, and then shook his head. "No, I don't. You would not have tried to kill Texas."
"Why not?"
"You're too stable," he answered immediately. "You would have considered it, and decided not to."
"But I wasn't stable. Eta and Iota… they drove me insane, Wash. Insane!" Her voice broke on the last word.
He watched her coolly. "I'm fairly certain I know the feeling."
Carolina laughed, bitter. "True. But you do agree, then, that I was not in the right state of mind when I had Eta and Iota?"
"Yes." In the brief amount of time between Carolina's implantation and his own, he had seen enough of her to know that she had been breaking. And then, when he had received Epsilon – well, he hadn't been seeing much of anything.
"Do you think that I would have tried to kill Texas, then?"
"Perhaps," he admitted unwillingly. "But you-"
"But what, Wash? Would you have pointed a gun at me too, called me a traitor and pulled the trigger?" Her voice rose in disbelief. She stared at him flatly.
Wash cleared his throat. "You had Eta and Iota. They drove you insane. You would not have been to blame."
"But you think South is?"
His gaze narrowed as he snapped his answer. "Yes!"
"Why?"
He fired back the answer almost immediately. "She did not have an A.I.! It was all her, Carolina. She did not possess an A.I.!"
Carolina shook her head slowly. When she spoke, her voice was quiet but steady, holding all the conviction in the world. "You know what, Wash? I think that may have been worse."
South stood still, her body tense as thoughts flickered erratically through her mind. Her eyes closed briefly in anger.
God, she was just so stupid! She'd fucked everything up, and she didn't have a clue what to do with what was left. Finding them had been a bad idea, right from the beginning. She'd had a clean slate – she could have gone anywhere, been anyone, done whatever the fuck she wanted to without interference!
After all, it was hard to be interfered with when you were dead.
But, no. She'd had to come here, with her grenades and her guns, and announce to the whole fucking world that she was still alive and kicking. She ground her teeth, feeling the red-hot fury start to flicker to life from somewhere in her chest. Her heart pounded, not in fear but in anger.
Whatcha gonna do, South? She didn't know, that was the whole goddamn point –
Make a plan, and stick to it. She didn't have a plan! She'd done nothing but sit around, waiting for the others to tell her what to do since she'd got here, and now she just didn't –
Stop feeling sorry for yourself and do something! But she didn't –
The voice interrupted, calmer now. What have you got? Well, she had nothing – two teams of stupid simulation soldiers, a medic, and two other ex-Freelancers.
That doesn't sound like nothing. Amusement radiated from the voice, and South felt like punching it. But she couldn't. Because you can't punch something that's not even there; a goddamn memory.
How are you going to use it? She didn't know, did she? That was the whole fucking reason she was alone here, pacing without a clue what to do next-
Make a plan, and stick to it the voice repeated.
"STOP INTERRUPTING ME!" South screamed. The words exploded out of her, hanging eerily in the following silence. She closed her eyes, and clenched her hands into fists. Yeah, now she'd blown it. There was no way Carolina was going to let a psycho who screamed at her own mind on her team.
South stopped, breathing heavily. For a moment, inside her mind there was blessed silence. But the dead don't stay dead for long – not inside your memories.
Cool it, South. She hissed, exhaling sharply through her teeth. Funny, he was long gone and yet somehow her twin still managed to piss her off –
No. South cut off the thought, and let it vanish. Slowly, her anger began to ebb away, leaving nothing but sorrow and regret wallowing in its wake. She hadn't meant for that to happen – she hadn't wanted any of this! She hadn't thought it through, she hadn't considered it, she never wanted this! This… isolation, this distrust, the anger and the loneliness warring within her.
She just wanted her brother back.
But then the regret was flooded away by her anger at the realization of her helplessness, and she just shook with fury again. Would this endless cycle ever cease?
South snarled, and threw out her fist in desperation. She needed to be doing something, just to keep these worthless, useless, what-if thoughts from circling around her brain.
The base wall dented, flowing inwards with the force of her strike. Suddenly, the world snapped back, releasing her from her anger-fueled bubble, and she was left standing in front of Red Base, breathing hard and with a throbbing hand. South let it drop, and suddenly became aware of the whispers.
The soldiers within the base, undoubtedly discussing her. They sounded anxious. South grinned – as well they should be. But then the anger evaporated, and South just felt so goddamn tired. Like she could sleep for eternity.
Except she couldn't. South knew what waited beyond the misty veil of sleep – her memories, which waited hungrily for her, pacing back and forth and howling with the need to tear her apart.
South didn't blame them.
Suddenly, a soldier appeared from around the corner, as though they had been kicked or shoved out. South raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms – she knew how to look murderous and angry, even if she didn't feel the part. Sure enough, she could almost see the purple medic quivering in his shiny metal boots.
"Um, Ms. Dakota?"
South repressed a snort. It had been a long time since she'd been addressed so politely, but never had she been called Ms. Dakota. It just sounded ridiculous, and slightly snobby.
"It's South," she corrected him, with the slightest edge of threat in her voice. Not enough to really send him running for the hills, but enough for him to remember.
"Of course!" the medic agreed hastily, almost tripping over himself. "Um, South… are you okay?"
Am I okay? The thought was laughable. Did she look okay? No, never mind that – South had long been trained in the art of deception. But surely, they'd heard her scream out. Did she sound okay? Did she feel okay? Did she seem okay?
No, she sure as hell wasn't okay.
"I'm fine."
The medic stepped closer, holding some funny-looking gun by his side. Seriously, what the hell was that? "Are you sure? I mean, you hit that wall pretty hard."
Oh. "Okay then." She raised an eyebrow, and her tone turned daring – almost mocking. "Your point?"
"Would you like me to patch it up? I'll be done in a jiffy!" The medic beamed, suddenly overcoming his fear.
Whatever. Make it quick, kid. South grunted, and stalked across the river – the water splashed around her merrily, at odds with her mood – and then sat on one of the big boulders. She watched the medic, and cocked her head to the side. Surprisingly, he was not deterred, and instead bounded after her like a puppy.
"Give me your arm." He was full of confidence, now that the medic was in his element. South stuck out her hand, and watched him incuriously.
"What's your name, anyway, Doc?" she asked.
"Well, they actually just call me Doc," he answered, almost apologetically. South snickered.
"Okay then, Doc." But then another question occurred to her. "What is that thing?"
Doc waved the gun over her arm slowly. Bright green light spilled from it in waves, and he was watching it closely. "Oh, this?" He waved it in the air, and grinned at her for a moment. "Just a scanner."
Huh.
Suddenly, the scanner beeped and Doc examined it closely. His eyes widened, and South raised an eyebrow. "What does it say?" she asked. "Is there something wrong with my hand?"
Sure, it didn't feel broken. And she was wearing the armour. But it didn't hurt to be sure – and Doc was looking like the world had just crashed down around his ears. His mouth hung open in horror.
"No, no…" He looked up at her, seemingly heartbroken. "I think I just broke my scanner," he whimpered.
South slid off the boulder and rolled her eyes. "What about my hand?"
"It's fine." Doc stared mournfully at his scanner, before stowing it regretfully away. " But I can bandage it, if that makes you feel better."
"Nope." South started to walk away.
"Wait!" Doc called out after her. She stopped, and slowly turned to consider him. "You know… it might help, if you talked about it."
"Talked about what?" South had gone very, very still. Her eyes narrowed.
"You know. Just… stuff." Doc had gotten very nervous, all of a sudden. He should be.
"No thanks." Sarcasm dripped off of the words, and Doc flinched as thought it were poison. He probably thought she was going to hit him – with good reason.
South turned and walked away, leaving the medic behind her. She'd spent most of her life rejecting help when it was offered, and hurting those who were on her side. South knew that she was poison. It was just a matter of how long it would take before she infected even herself.
"Have you made up your mind?"
Carolina looked up, and tossed her hair out of her eyes. Wash leant against the canyon wall, watching silently. But South stood before her, shoulders slumped and her eyes guarded. She thought that Carolina would say no.
"Get on," Carolina said roughly. South watched her, shocked.
"You mean-"
"Hurry up, before I change my mind."
South brushed past her quickly, and tapped the back of the Mongoose. "Is Epsilon in there?" she asked.
"Yes," Carolina replied quickly. "No – not the backseat. You can drive; I want to keep my eyes on you." The command was laced with threat, but South nodded and quickly climbed into her seat.
Carolina's gaze flickered to Wash. He watched the pair impassively, his arms crossed. When she caught him watching, he tipped his head towards her briefly. Goodbye.
Carolina looked away, and slowly got into the backseat. "Head straight West for a while, South. We need to get out of here – then we can find our proper heading."
"You got it." South revved the engine, and Carolina could sense a sort of nervous and dark excitement radiating from the ex-Freelancer.
Carolina looked, for the last time, at Wash. "Last chance," she told him.
But he shook his head. "Good luck, Carolina."
She gazed at him unhappily for a moment, but then turned her head. "Let's get out of here," she muttered, and South happily obliged. The Mongoose roared and leapt forward.
Carolina closed her eyes, and hunched down in her seat. Her stomach flipped over itself clumsily, but she reassured herself.
We're doing the right thing. He has to pay for what he did. York, North, Maine, Wyoming, Connie – all of them. Even Texas, and Alpha. None of them deserved their end.
Her shoulders straightened, and she looked ahead. Despite the reassurance, she felt sick.
Carolina had never enjoyed reunions.
A/N: I don't have much to say today, other than Merry Christmas! It's only two days away now – I think – maybe more for you guys on the other side of the world. I don't know – it's late, I'm tired, and I don't know what day it is XD Hope you guys enjoy the holiday, and have an awesome day!
As always, thanks for reading and please review :) See ya next time