DON'T HURT ME! (dodges thrown objects) I'M SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I UPDATED!

Quickly, before it slips my mind ONCE AGAIN, the name Thomas Green is a tribute to three AMAZING people. Thomas: Thomas Leher, the guy who made The Elements Song (that I can't stop singing). The last name Green is in tribute to John and Hank Green, the Vlogbrothers on YouTube. (NERFIGHTERS FTW!) I love them to death, and I just HAD to name a character after them. DFTBA!

Next chapter is LOOSE ENDS. (scream)

Question of the Chapter: If there was ONE part of MW2 that you could change, what would it be? Any part!

This story is ALMOST DONE! Then we go on to the sequel! Any ideas for the sequel?

READ & ENJOY & REVIEW! ^.^ And happy late Halloween!

-ecto1B

Chapter 29:

"Answers"

Day 6 – 16:49:48

Cpt. John Price

Task Force 141

Encounter Base, Russia

"Okay…" Price sat down with the foldable chair's backrest at his chest and his eyes fixed intently on the woman seated on the cot. He had just returned from a briefing; their next mission had the Task Force splitting down the middle. Soap and Price would head to the Boneyard in Afghanistan, while Queen and Ghost ventured to Makarov's safehouse on the Georgian-Russian border. They had been given a mission to eliminate the Ultranationalist dirt that had caused such an outrage throughout the world. Finally, it would not be his men's blood that would spill, but his. Price reveled in the thought of his defeated enemy. "You have more questions for me. I realize that. I'll try to answer everything as best as I can, but you'll have to give me a minute to get everything out. No interrupting." He gave her a knowing look, and Queen winced.

Price surely didn't expect her to understand everything instantly. He knew it'd take her a while to get her mind wrapped around the fact that she'd been living in her future self's life. But he hoped she would really listen as best as she could and not cut in with more questions. He hated having to repeat himself.

Queen pulled her eyes from his gaze instantly, drawing them to a blank space on the inside of the tent. Her face became paler than usual, Price noticed. The blood seemed to withdraw from her cheeks, giving her skin a pasty shade. He grimaced tersely, ashamed that he was the one responsible for her tension.

"First," Queen began, coughing. "I wanna know how you knew I was a younger version of Queen? I mean, you just met me. How did you—"

"Soap," Price said simply. "Soap told me of a woman in the One-Four-One who only feared swimming underwater, and nothing else. Not even hand-to-hand combat bothered her." He raised his eyebrows to imply his point, and she nodded. "When I saw you… er… overreact earlier, I grew very suspicious. Soap informed me that Queen used to be afraid of dealing with close combat, but Ghost had helped her break that fear through extensive training when she joined the team. Even Ghost's a bit dumbfounded as to why you acted so erratically, but he also didn't seem to mind that you instantly went to him for comfort."

At this, Queen blushed profoundly. "I-It's a long story…"

Price promptly held up his hands in front of his chest. "A story I'm not too sure I'm ready to hear, sweetheart." He rolled his shoulders and shook himself vigorously, as if to rid himself of a heavy shiver. "Anyway, I was also shown a photo of the Task Force from a few months ago, and noticed that—for some reason—you looked much older in the picture than you did in real life. Soap and the others all assumed that you looking younger was some sort of stage in a woman's life—keep in mind that these men have never worked alongside a woman in the military before. Since I, in fact, have an older sister, and I've seen how a woman ages, I knew you hadn't suddenly grown younger, and that there was some back story. I just had no idea it was this back story."

Queen stared at him for a moment, letting her round grey eyes sink earnestly into the base of his subconscious.

"You really are smart for an old man who was stuck in a hole for five years," she remarked bluntly, which took him aback at first. After a second of contemplation, he realized that she spoke the truth—even locked away in the gulag could put no damper on his noteworthy intelligence.

"Why, thank you," Price replied, smirking and dipping his head. When he glanced back up, he asked, "Any more questions for me?" He hoped not. It was getting late, and they were headed out quite early tomorrow for the Boneyard. His bed in the tent nearby seemed to be calling to him through the darkening base.

Queen drummed a finger on her chin, deep in thought. "I don't think so… but can I give you a quick summary of what I've learned, and you can correct me if I'm wrong?"

Price nodded. Easy enough.

Taking a deep breath, Queen began.

"So Thomas Green visited the future, returned home, made a video game to warn everyone, and no one noticed. He was your close friend, and told you about… everything…?"

"Most everything," Price corrected. "He neglected to tell me what happens when Soap and I go to Afghanistan, and you and Ghost head to the estate." Price shut his eyes for a minute to recollect the day when Thomas refused to disclose any more information to him. Price had gotten quite angry with his friend, imploring Thomas to warn him if something terrible would happen. (Even then, Price had not believed Thomas's unsettling tale, but he'd still wanted to know what the end would look like.) But Thomas had dismissed Price's pleads, saying Whatever happens, every loose end will be tied up at some point. That sentence had driven him mad with discomfort, as if something truly horrible would happen at the end… as if they wouldn't find Makarov so easily… as if they'd lose someone… "Thomas said it would be bad if I knew the truth," Price said finally, sitting up straight in the chair.

"Okay… so you were told most everything. Now, I was playing the video game Green created in the year 2010, and was suddenly whisked into the game to replace my future self…" Queen groaned. "I still can't get over that… I'm guessing I don't go to college, then?"

Price did the math on his fingers. She was supposed to be twenty-three now, in 2016. She was really seventeen. His eyebrows curved downward sympathetically. Poor lass. Only seventeen, and she's seen the horrible elements of war up close.

"You graduating high school?" he asked.

"I'm about to enter my senior year," she responded. "And then I was supposed to head to the University of Florida for college…" She swore under her breath, realizing something horrible. "My dad's gonna be beyond pissed at me if I join the Army Rangers instead of getting my degree…" She moaned again and facepalmed.

"Your father ain't the lenient type, eh?" Price said slowly, not wanting to force her into divulging anything she didn't want to.

She shook her head. "Definitely not. Rigid as a rock. I swear, he'll kill me the second I hypothetically speak about not going to college." When Price eyed her confusedly, Queen sighed. "You want the whole story? Fine. Let's just say that he's a very serious, business-oriented man. He worked for years in New York City as a photographer. He took pictures of buildings, historic sites, fountains… everything, really. His entire life was his job. And then he met my mom, who was a fashion model there in the seventies and eighties. She never completely became his life, which has recently become their downfall. They moved to Pensacola, Florida when I was born so my mom could work as a spokeswoman for the city, since she retired from modeling. My dad had to leave his home, which, eventually, ruined him." Queen paused. "And now my brother and I have to hear the two of them scream at each other every day. They'll divorce soon, I know. There's no use trying to hide it." She sighed and ran a hand through her curling red hair. "So yeah, when I get home and tell my dad I want to bypass college and head for the army, I'm going to be slaughtered…"

Price stood from the chair and went over to sit next to her. He put a comforting hand on her back.

"He won't 'slaughter' you, Queen. Sure, he'll be angry, but he's your father. He's only looking out for you. And every father wants their son or daughter to get an education."

Queen glanced up at him. "S-So if I get it over with as soon as I get home, you think I'll survive?"

Chuckling, Price patted her shoulder. "You'll survive. I know it." Suddenly, a thought washed over him, and his face grew solemn. His blue eyes darkened rapidly.

"What?" Queen inquired.

Price laid his elbows in his lap and leaned forward. "I'm jus' hoping we survive the next mission, lass. Thomas never told me what happens…"

Something odd glimmered behind Queen's grey irises for a millisecond, but before Price could ask her what was wrong, the strange look had vanished. Instead, Queen stood from the cot and motioned for him to do the same.

"It's getting late," she said briskly. "I'm gonna go to bed. We have to get up early tomorrow morning, right?"

"Yep, your chopper leaves for the Georgian-Russian border at three o'clock in the morning." Price was a bit bemused as to why she was acting so edgy all of a sudden, but he had imposed enough by wondering about her family situation. He headed for the tent exit. "I'll say goodbye to you tomorrow." He pulled a smile. "Goodnight, Queen. I hope I made it easy for you to understand, and I'm sorry you had to deal with all of this."

She shrugged. "It's okay, Price. Goodnight."

Price buttoned his coat and headed out into the base's frigid air towards his own tent, Thomas Green's agitating words booming through his head.

Whatever happens, every loose end will be tied up at some point.

What did he mean?

Dunn: Can we at least TRY it out?

ecto1B: No.

Dunn: Oh, c'mon! I bet it'll work better than my name! ^.^

ecto1B: It's a stupid idea, and you're stupid if you think it'll work better than DUNN DUNN DUNN

Dunn: Hey! Don't insult me! I have fans! They'll protect me!

ecto1B: Uh, Dunn, you have a fan. Ramirez counts as one person.

Dunn: Meanie. Can we please try it?

ecto1B: (groan) Fine...

FOLEY FOLEY FOLEY

{A wild Foley appeared}

Foley: Who called me?

Dunn: Shoot...

ecto1B: Now look what you've done!

Dunn: I'll handle him.

{Dunn uses STRANGLE}

{ecto1B uses ROUNDHOUSE KICK}

Dunn: OWW! THAT HURT! :'(

Foley: Thank you, ecto.

ecto1B: No problem. XD