A/N: Excuse for laziness? Well, no laptop for a fucking month will do that to you. I wish I had a better excuse than that, honestly. Couldn't I have been crippled instead?

Paradox Effect

Summary: Dying sucked. Dying and being killed by the same teammate again? That sucked even more. Dying and being sent back to Blood Gulch as a girl? That REALLY sucked. Now, Leona Church will have to put up with Tucker's perverted looks, Caboose's stupidity, and worst of all, Tex's laughter…

*Chapter 42*

Rockets. Why the hell was it always fucking rockets? Did wannabe supervillains not know of any other ways to kill someone? Or was it just shit luck rearing its ugly head once more?

Leona didn't know the answer to that question. But she did know she would be making sure Doc shut up. Permanently. One murder on her conscious was not going to ruin her in any way, shape, or form. Hell, she might even win a medal for it.

Yep, she still hated everyone who was responsible for cockblocking her.

Leona rolled to the side as a rocket came towards her. The missile exploded, sending sand skyward and showering her in it.

"Who's not dead?" she asked wearily.

"I'm not." Tex stood up, glaring angrily at the asshole who was intent on blowing them all up for reasons of fuck all.

"Alive and annoyed," York grumbled, shaking sand off of his armor.

"Conscious," Tucker offered helpfully from the ground, lying face down. "Leona, do me a solid?"

"What?"

"Shoot me yourself," Tucker groaned.

Leona sighed.

"Wait…where the hell is Caboose?"

Caboose didn't know where he was. He didn't know many things, but that wasn't what was important at the moment. What was important (or so he assumed) was the weird giant…thing, in front of his face.

"Hello!" Caboose greeted cheerfully. It was what he was always told to do whenever he met a new person. The scary lady with blue hair told him so. At least he thought she did? It was hard to understand her sometimes.

The giant blue thing stared with two beady black eyes and remained silent.

"Why don't you say something back?" Caboose asked.

"HONK!"

…

"Oh. Someone cut your mouth in half. You have four mouths!"

The thing that honked at him showed its displeasure. "BLARGH!"

"OW!"

"Mwahahaha! Taste oblivion!" Doc cackled and fired another pair of rockets at Leona's group. They had taken cover behind a large rock and the blue haired woman sighed as another set of explosions tried to shake her teeth loose.

"Goddammit, how much ammo does he have!?" She groaned, poking her head out to fire back at Doc.

"Enough," Tucker answered with a snort. "He's made this into a freaking fortress. He could probably keep shooting at us for another hour at least." Well that was just fucking perfect. Pinned by explosives with no help on the way and a missing teammate. Dammit, Leona was really missing Sheila right now. What she wouldn't do for a tank, if only to make Doc just shut up. His laugh was aggravating to no end and the blunette was honestly ten seconds away from lobbing every single grenade she could find at the jackass.

"Hahahaha! I will rip off your arms and legs, chew them up, and spit them all over your rotting carcass!" Doc cackled.

Leona's eye twitched.

Several strands of hair turned grey.

Church sighed inside her head and resigned himself to his fate. "Fuck me…"

"York. Give me your shotgun," she said with a growl.

"Um, it's not exactly ideal at this range–"

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK! GIVE ME YOUR GODDAMN SHOTGUN!" She was pissed and had enough. York tossed her his preferred weapon and Leona stalked out of cover once there was a break in the onslaught of missiles.

Tex and Tucker stared at her retreating back and the aqua armored (teal? Turquoise? Aqua-marine? The fuck color was it?) soldier swooned. "O-oh fuck…I never thought I'd say these words, but I'm in love…"

Tex fell in a heap, blood leaking from her nose. "I-it is so beautiful…mmm…more anger please…"

"Oh dear God." York groaned and wondered how the hell he ended up in this situation. 'I need to get laid. Or spend a night drinking. Maybe then the world will make a lot more sense.'

This was so not in his job description.

"Medic!"

"Medic?" Doc's voice turned back to normal. "Oh hey guys! You said you needed a medic, right? I think I can help with that! I have all the qualifications!"

York pointedly turned his back and whistled a cheerful tune as the oncoming storm known as Leona proceeded to use his shotgun not to shoot Doc, but to beat the ever loving fuck out of him.

Ow! That hurt! Stop hitting me, you psycho bitch!"

Leona's furious roar came a second after that.

Not York's problem and he was quite happy keeping it that way. He knew better than to call Leona a psycho. The bitch part was fine; she'd admit to that any day of the damn week. But being called insane? She didn't take too kindly to that.

He saw what happened to Tucker when he did it. It wasn't pretty. Hence another rule being added to Blue Team's code of conduct.

Don't call Leona crazy in any way, shape, or form. It won't end well and Blue Team will not take responsibility for any casualties that follow.

Doc landed in a heap of purple armor and pain, groaning in pain. His helmet's visor had been shattered and he spat out a mouthful of blood, several teeth missing from his head meeting the blunt end of a shotgun.

"W-what did I do…?" he whined.

"Existed," Tex snarked from the ground.

"Blew me up," Tucker added helpfully.

"Cockblocked the shit out of Leona."

"Also forced us to work with the Reds."

"Ran off with our ice cream. I mean really, what the hell did you think was going to happen?"

"Increased Leona's alcohol consumption to the point where it'll be a miracle for her to die in a way other than alcohol poisoning."

As Tucker and Tex rattled off an entire list of things that Doc had done either directly or indirectly, it quickly became a game of who could rip him a new one more.

"Let's not forget the fact that you literally called my girlfriend insane. Seriously, what the fuck? Don't you know it's rude to call a lady crazy?"

"Not to mention the whole fake evil laughter thing. Anyone with ears would wish they were deaf if only to not hear it anymore. You're trying way too hard dude. Don't get me wrong, you have commitment, but you lack the necessary talent to actually pull off sounding like a supervillian. You sound like a grade school idiot on helium."

Doc mumbled something that might have been English but it didn't come out right. Might have been the blood. York didn't particularly care, as he was not getting paid enough for this shit.

Leona stalked back, the ground shaking with every angry step. She tossed York his shotgun back and stared down at Doc, cracking her knuckles. "Alright. Here's how this is going to go. You're going to explain yourself. If I get an answer I don't like, I'm stuffing you into a cannon and firing it into the nearest volcano. Start. Talking."

"W-what is this, good cop bad cop?" Doc asked lamely.

THUNK!

"OW! I need that for digesting food!"

York pinched his brow and felt himself age in real time.

"I ask the questions. You just answer them. Who the fuck is O'Malley!?" Leona glared at their prisoner. Well, more like her punching bag, but details weren't important. No need to get bogged down with technicalities around these parts.

"I-I don't know!" Doc wailed. "I just kept hearing voices in my head and before I knew it, it was like I wasn't really in control of my body! I don't want to live in some secret bunker armed to the teeth! I'm a pacifist!"

"So peaceful that you just spent an hour firing rockets at us," Tucker drawled sarcastically, even doing the slow clap to rub it in deeper. "Such peaceful means of communication. And what was it you said? You were going to chew up my arms and legs and spit them on my body?"

Doc winced. "O-okay, fair enough. But I never wanted this to happen! I swear!"

"Leona, a word?" York leaned in, interrupting the interrogation before she started snapping necks. Specifically, Doc's neck. Tucker was lucky the blue haired woman didn't notice him checking out her ass, otherwise he'd also get his ass kicked.

"What?" Leona snapped. "Can't you see I'm busy torturing my prisoner?"

"I think you mean interrogating."

"I know what I said."

"Is killing him really going to make things better?"

"Yes. He cockblocked me. AGAIN!"

"Jeez." York grimaced. "You seem stressed."

"You think!?" Leona growled. "I have constant flashbacks of a past I never knew I had, we're down a member, and this asshole has been the cause of my headaches! I wouldn't even have to deal with Wyoming if it weren't for this jackasss. I have become stress."

The sooner she got away from Doc, the better.

"Let me and Tex question him," York offered. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Is this really the time for cryptic Freelancer bullshit?"

"Considering it might be what's behind this? Yes. Go try and search the fort for Caboose. And please try not to blow this entire place up."

Leona hissed in annoyance but relented. "Fine. I'll go get the big blue baby. I won't complain if Doc perishes in some awful way. I'm completely for firing him out of a MAC cannon."

"You're one bitter bitch..."

"I'm also cockblocked. So yes, I'm bitter."

York sighed and waited for Leona to leave before facing their new prisoner.

"Now, Doc," he said with fake kindness. "Tell us about these voices."

A/N: Poor Doc. Sanity is overrated, anyway.