New York, Manhattan:
April 25, 2018: 2232 hours…
Out of all the things Carolina imagined she would be doing, she never quite expected to find herself spending quality time with Lavernius Tucker. Taking a late-night stroll around the area alongside Tucker, being mindful not to wander too far from the club where the others were located, Carolina had no complaints about the strange situation so far. Far from it, in fact. She'd go as far as to say that it was a welcome change of pace.
At first, she had expected Tucker to behave inappropriately but he had subverted her expectations by actually being a decent person. Of course, it really wouldn't quite be Lavernius Tucker if he had completely become a gentleman. His lecherous and perverted nature would flare up once or twice in a moment, especially when certain ladies caught his eye, but otherwise, he had been well-behaved.
Then there was the idle chatter the two would have throughout their stroll. They'd talk about a lot of things such as their shared adventures or Tucker would go on to share a tale of his back when he was in Blood Gulch. Of course, the two had been mindful to discuss such sensitive matters with curious ears as they passed individuals. They also discussed the strange situation they and the others had found themselves in. About the new universe.
"I'm just saying," Tucker began, scratching the back of his head. "Would it really be a bad idea to just stay here and relax? This could be our new home! Even if we have all these superheroes and stuff—even if we're, what, about four hundred years in the past."
Carolina gave an exasperated eye roll, shaking her head. "Tucker, we don't belong here. You know it, I know it. Plus we'd be neglecting our duties and responsibilities—"
"What duties and responsibilities?" Tucker had interrupted with a somewhat tense and aggravated tone. His face had scrunched up to convey a confused expression. "It's over, isn't it? The Project Freelancer bullshit's done. Chorus, Hargrove, Felix, Locus: all done! Ah, wait," Tucker had paused in his steps for a moment, his eye spotting something interesting. Carolina followed his actions. He pointed toward a nearby hotdog vendor which was surprisingly still open, active, and being attended to. "Let's try one of these old hotdogs, yeah? Maybe nothing's changed about it," he suggested but once he reached out and grasped her wrist to pull her along, Carolina knew it was non-negotiable.
Still, she had been surprised that Tucker would brazenly lay a hand on her much less practically drag her along as they approached the hotdog vendor. Tonight, it seemed as if Tucker was determined to continuously surprise her throughout the night.
They finally stood in front of the vendor, the friendly-looking man attending it curiously eyeing the both of them. Tucker held up two fingers, "Two hotdogs, please."
The man, looking to be in his mid-forties, displayed a friendly smile and a thumbs-up of acknowledgment. "Two hotdogs for the couple. Got it!"
"Couple?!" Tucker's eyes widened before his gaze darted over to Carolina in a frenzy. He gave a nervous bout of laughter, letting his hand run through his hair as Carolina gave him a pointed look. "Oh, uh, we're not together. Like, at all."
Carolina remained silent, nodding to confirm with the vendor attendant.
The man's smile hadn't faltered. It seemed to have gotten brighter and wider, taking on a teasing appearance. Then a slightly mischievous glint appeared in his brown eyes. "Oh," he mumbled before humming in a disappointed tone as he fulfilled the request. "What a shame," he nodded to himself, placing two freshly cooked hotdogs in their respective bins.
"Uh," Tucker hesitated, leaving the single word hanging. Carolina remained silent but there was an unexplainable look on her face.
"That'll be five bucks," the man announced, completing the order. Two small plastic trays containing the requested snack were placed on the table portion of the hotdog stand.
Tucker nodded, reaching for his back left pocket in search of his wallet. Sure, it wasn't anything like back home but it still served its purpose of storing cash. Plus it also served to maintain their cover so it was a no-brainer if they wanted to fit in. His hand roamed around his back left pocket and…found it to be empty. He patted the area for good measure to confirm that it was empty. "Ah, shit," he cursed before slowly turning to look at Carolina. Unexpectedly she gave him an amused look.
Tucker flashed a sheepish smirk. "Hey, uh, Carolina? I think I left my wallet—"
She shook her head amusedly before quickly producing a five-dollar bill and silently handing it to the vendor. He too shared an entertained expression. "Thank you, have a nice night, you two."
"Don't," Tucker warned her, leaving the rest of the sentence to Carolina's imagination as he swiftly took his hotdog and grabbed a ketchup bottle to squirt between the buns.
"You owe me," was all Carolina said with a neutral expression but Tucker could practically hear the smile in her voice as she too retrieved her hotdog but made no move to add any other additives.
The two, after a moment of silence, continued with their late-night stroll around the block.
Tucker audibly cleared his throat before taking a bit of his delicious snack. Carolina idly noted that Tucker seemed to be a messy eater as crumbs decorated his lips and his bite had allowed several specks of crumbs to fall unceremoniously to the pavement. "Ahnywhay," Tucker continued with a mouthful of hotdog. "Ash I whas shaying, dhon't we desherve a vacashion? This ishn't awl bad."
Carolina, in good nature with no ill will, elbowed his side, having no issue balancing her tray containing her hotdog. "Swallow your food before you talk, Tucker," she admonished him despite a genuine smile plastered on her face.
There was an audible gulp. "Ah, um, I said, don't we deserve a vacation, y'know? I mean, sure, this isn't the ideal place…or universe, but still, we could do some kick-ass things here and just relax! I say we've more than earned it, don't you think?"
Carolina took a small bite out of her own hotdog, brows furrowed as she contemplated the blue's words as the two kept walking. Tucker wasn't finished.
"I mean, we've done our part. We've done more than enough for Project Freelancer and we helped save Chorus and brought some sweet-ass justice to that dickbag Hargrove! We don't owe anyone anything anymore. Not the UNSC, not the government. No one."
Truly, they were in another universe if the perverse so-called "ladies' man" Lavernius Tucker was making a completely valid argument. One that she tiredly admitted to herself that she agreed with.
Having taken another bite of the hotdog and, remembering the somewhat painful jab to his side, swallowed and continued to press forward albeit in a quiet but meaningfully genuine voice. "I've…We've all been through so much bullshit and, well, I'm just tired of it all after putting up and dealing with so much. I want a break. Even then why should we help these superheroes even if they've got it all handled?"
Carolina finished swallowing yet another bite and took notice of Tucker's sagging shoulders. She regarded Tucker with a guarded expression. There was a hint of uncertainty on her face as she carefully mulled over her response. "Tucker," she said with seriousness laced in her voice. "I won't lie, you've made some good points. You're right. Back home, we don't owe anyone anything." Carolina paused, noticing the curious yet stunned look on Tucker's features.
Carolina took yet another bite and continued. "And I agree with what you've said. I guess we've done enough to earn some rest."
"But why do we need to get involved with these supers?" He butted in with a hint of frustration. He paused as if to think over his next words. Tucker's face then became downcast with slight fatigue evident. "I just want to relax and hang out with my friends now."
"After Project Freelancer I can't just sit by and let something happen when there's something I can do about it," Carolina found herself admitting before turning her gaze down towards the pavement. "Wash can't either." Carolina bit her lip as a rather far-fetched idea dawned on her. "You're right. Maybe you and the others can stay out of it while Wash and I handle things here."
"Hell no," Tucker gritted out. Carolina could see a drive of determination in his eyes and barely noticed he had strengthened his grip on the plastic tray to where it had almost been crushed. That would've resulted in the poor hotdog dropping to the floor and being inedible. "Don't say such a stupid idea like that ever again. Once was enough."
Carolina stared at him, stunned in place. Her mind flashed back to that time on Chorus. That time when they had been cornered in a tactical sense. Left with one teleportation grenade, the group didn't have many options. One option was to take the two mercenaries' proposed offer of everyone boarding the ship for safe passage home at the cost of abandoning the inhabitants of Chorus to their inevitable self-destruction assured by the Pirates and swearing to not speak about the Pirate's involvement. Another option would be to use the teleportation grenade to teleport somewhere inconspicuous and lay low so they had a chance to bring down the Pirates but at the cost of the two armies of Chorus being eradicated. The final option was to utilize the final teleportation grenade to teleport to the radio jammer and deal with a ton of difficult obstacles at the chance of broadcasting a message to the capital to show the two armies that they were being played by the Pirates.
Carolina grimly remembered the last yet final detail of the group going over their options in such a tough situation. Wash had proposed that the Reds and Blues board the generously offered ship and go home while he and Carolina would stay behind to do their best to handle the whole situation on Chorus.
'That must be where Tucker is getting at,' Carolina thought to herself, feeling humbled.
Tucker turned to her to convey an earnest look. "We're all in this together." His lips curved into a slight meaningful smile. "All-for-one or one-for-all, am I right?"
Carolina would momentarily remain frozen before shaking herself out of her stupor and returning the smile with genuine gratitude. "Of course. We're all in this together," Carolina nodded absentmindedly.
"If that's what you and Wash want to do then I'll follow you guys. Grif, Simmons, Sarge, Donut, Lopez, Caboose—all of us will."
Carolina blinked as she took in Tucker's words. Her mind wondered what happened to the perverted idiot with his stupid suggestive catchphrase. The idiot that she grew to smile around wistfully despite his misconduct. Because right now, standing before her, enjoying a hotdog alongside, was a man she could proudly call her teammate. Her comrade-in-arms. Her friend.
'Not just him,' Carolina reminded herself as she pictured the other Reds and Blues.
There was a brief yet meaningful moment of silence between them both before Carolina finally spoke. "Thanks, Tucker. Really." She gave Tucker perhaps the biggest and brightest smile he had ever seen on her. It was so unexpected and unbefitting of Carolina that he was startled by it. He had almost relinquished his grip on the tray and momentarily fumbled with it but successfully prevented his half-finished hotdog from colliding with the ground.
Carolina continued despite his brief clumsiness. "You really aren't as bad as you first seemed. But I promise you—I promise you all that without a doubt this will be our vacation. We'll relax and just forget about everything. But we'll also do our part in doing the right thing."
The two shared eye contact for what seemed like forever. Carolina was unable to discern what emotion Tucker was feeling. The same could be said for Tucker to Carolina. Several seconds passed as silence was shared between them.
"...Do we really have to do the right thing?" Tucker finally spoke, almost sounding like a child whining.
Carolina narrowed her eyes into a mean look.
Tucker held his hands up defensively and laughed nervously. "Kidding, kidding." He took a large bite of his hotdog, beginning to sweat under the mean gaze Carolina maintained. "Right thing to do. Help people. I get it, no need to look at me like that," he uttered. His eyes roamed around their surroundings and it wasn't long until something else caught his eye. "Hey, who's that lady over there? She's pretty hot."
'Yup, there he is,' Carolina thought, eye twitching in irritation before letting out a sigh and shaking her head with a faint smile.
Inside the Nightclub:
April 25, 2018: 2245 hours…
Wash found himself still with the mysteriously alluring Felicia, but with even more company. Simmons, Donut, and Sarge popped in and introduced themselves to her. Donut was especially fascinated with her, Simmons was nervous around her, and Sarge was indifferent. In the distance, Wash noted that among the crowd, Grif was surprisingly "babysitting" Caboose, ensuring that he didn't cause much trouble. However, Grif, whenever possible, ordered alcohol and downed them in gulps. It was surprising and impressive how well Grif can manage to hold his liquor while multitasking.
"So, what line of work are you in, David?" Felicia asked offhandedly, sipping her alcohol. Immediately, Wash felt all eyes on him as Felicia looked at him curiously.
Wash cleared his throat, tugging at the hem of his collar, "Well, I'm a Mercenary…"
Silence. Sarge, Simmons, and Donut stared at him with unamused expressions as they no doubt found the joke in poor taste considering their history with Mercenaries.
Felicia's reaction was simply a raised brow of curiosity, continuing to sip her beverage. "Oh?"
Wash laughed awkwardly, coughing. "It was meant to be a joke."
"Too soon," Sarge, Simmons, and Donut said in unison with deadpan expressions. Felicia cast her gaze onto the three, wondering why they had responded in such a way but realized it was none of her business. How odd, she thought.
"Yeah, I know," Wash mumbled.
"So what line of work are you actually in?" Felicia once again repeated her question. "You look like you do something interesting for a living."
Wash shifted a bit. The three reds looked at him expectantly. Sarge seemed to recognize the predicament Wash was in and looked ready to jump in and provide an answer, but refrained.
"Ah, well, you can say we are all prior military and we moved onto a more peacekeeping role." Wash nodded to himself, satisfied with the answer. He'd reach out and grab his drink and take a fruitful sip in celebration.
"Prior military, huh? What branch?" Felicia conveyed surprise and intrigue, putting down her drink and leaning in closer. She then looked at the three reds. "You were all in the same unit?"
Chuckling, Wash eyed the three reds as well, reminiscing of their history. "Ah, not really, no. I was in, uh, Navy Special Warfare."
Felicia rested her hand on her chin, smirking. "Really? You don't really give off badass operator vibes to me. Seems like bullshit to me if I'm being honest."
Wash shrugged assuredly, knowing the full truth of his words. "Believe what you want, but that's where I served. In a manner of speaking," Wash trailed off, clutching his knees.
Felicia turned her attention to the three Reds. "And you guys?"
Simmons and Donut looked at each other with unsure expressions before Simmons answered on their behalf. "Army. Uh, yeah. Not much there," Simmons nodded, adding an awkward laugh.
"Missy," Sarge began boisterously. "You're looking at a bonafide jarhead right here. Marine right here," he stated proudly.
Felicia let out a laugh, surprising all. She shook her head in slight disbelief. "You're kidding, right? I'll be honest, you all don't look the part at all. Where were you all stationed, huh?"
Sarge, Simmons, and Donut shared a look before Simmons spoke to answer her. "Let's just say it's a remote location in the middle of nowhere."
"Yup," Sarge and Donut affirmed with a stiff nod.
"That's how the military goes," Wash supplied convincingly, reflecting on how it must've been for the three Reds being stationed in Blood Gulch for that long. He can't imagine being stuck in that boxed canyon with such a pointless objective and meaningless service. Wash supposed that they were somewhat helping with the war effort but at the cost of their sanity and more. Well, Sarge did serve as an ODST before he got transferred over to Project Freelancer as a simulation trooper. Wash couldn't help but feel bad for Sarge but looking at him now, he seemed just fine.
"I tell ya, Missy," Sarge began, puffing out his chest proudly. "I had the time of my life serving as a leatherneck. Boy, I've got some stories to tell you: like the time I pulled out my shotgun on this innie bastard and—"
Wash rushed up to lay a discouraging hand on Sarge's shoulder, "Woah, there, Sarge, I don't think that's an appropriate story to tell—"
"What," Wash snapped to Felicia who had narrowed her eyes. As if she were scrutinizing him just a tad bit. "Don't think I can handle it because I'm a woman?"
Wash, tongue-tied, tried to respond. "Well, no, it's not that, it's just that—"
"Just what?"
Simmons cleared his throat to get their attention. "What David is trying to say is that it wouldn't be appropriate for Sarge to tell a story that would only bring bad memories to us."
"Uh, yeah," Donut nodded, sounding a little unsure.
"We've been through a lot," Wash concluded, removing his hand from Sarge but not before giving him a meaningful look. "It wouldn't be such a good idea to tell past experiences that would leave a bitter taste in all our mouths, right Sarge?"
Sarge audibly grunted, folding his arms. Felicia turned to Sarge with a somewhat incredulous expression. "Really, though, is your name actually Sarge? Like, what's your actual legal name, or does everyone just—"
"Nope, yeah, we all just call him Sarge," Simmons said, taking a seat and bringing a bottle of beer to his lips to drink.
Felicia paused. "Is that his rank or…?"
"Sure," Wash responded, leaving Felicia to look at him blankly.
Suddenly, Grif strolls up with Caboose tagging closely along. "U-um, Wash?" Grif seemed to be out of breath and anxious too. Caboose, however, was admiring all the different strobes and colors the club was emitting. "Look, I think we should leave now."
Wash stared at him. Sarge scowled at him. Simmons rolled his eyes. Donut looked worried. "The hell did you do this time, fatass?" Simmons asked, exasperated.
"I may have pissed off some big dude and he's out for blood—"
"Hey!" A voice behind Grif called out. Stomping forward from the crowd was a burly muscular man with menacing eyes set on Grif.
"Eep!" Grif then bolted forward and cowered behind Wash. "Look, him! Wash, er, David,"
"You've got to be kidding me," Wash cursed under his breath while Felicia watched amusedly and the other simulation troopers watched expectantly. Sighing, Wash stepped forward, preparing to confront the man Grif had pissed off.
With Carolina and Tucker…
April 25, 2018: 2255 hours…
"50 credits that you kick that guy's ass!"
"Tucker—"
"75 credits, you won't!"
"Tucker—"
"Oh, wait, 100 credits for you to bend over and—"
Tucker froze, unable to move. Carolina had reached out and grasped his arm. Hard. She was clenching his arm, squeezing threateningly. The pressure was increasing to uncomfortable levels and soon would reach painful levels. "O-Okay, Carolina, okay! Please let go," Tucker whimpered.
Carolina gave him a look of warning. Tucker understood and frantically nodded as he sucked in deep breaths in hopes of recovering from the pain her death grip had on him. Carolina, satisfied, gave a far too cheerful smile to be considered genuine for relinquishing her grip. Tucker clutched at the spot to help soothe the pain. "You just had to say so, Carolina…"
"I did."
"Yeah, well, speak louder—"
Carolina gave him a threatening glare. Tucker laughed nervously, "Ah, never mind…"
Carolina let out an exasperated sigh. "Do you even have credits on you?"
Tucker took a moment to ponder. "You know, now that I think about it, I don't think I have any credits to my name at all."
Carolina stopped, turning to Tucker with a bewildered look. "What?"
Tucker stopped as well. "Probably because of my crippling gambling addiction," he joked, laughing.
Carolina shook her head. "Not funny."
"Okay, it was a joke. But seriously, I've got no credits. Like, at all. Zero. Because of all the times I hit on all the enlisted women in the UNSC that all happen to be married and I got shaken real hard for my money by their husbands."
Carolina looked at him, confused. "Wait, were you not always in Blood Gulch?"
Tucker clicked his tongue in realization. "Ah, wait, I never told you that I was in the UNSC Army before the whole shit with Project Freelancer?"
Carolina continued walking and Tucker followed by her side. She actually had no idea that Tucker was prior UNSC. She had always thought that the simulation troopers were taken from potential recruits for the UNSC and were instead rerouted over to Project Freelancer as, well, guinea pigs. "No, I always thought you all were taken from UNSC recruiting," Carolina replied.
Tucker looked at her in surprise. "Really? Is that what they told you guys?"
Carolina shook her head, baffled at this new revelation. "No, I just assumed…"
Tucker nodded. "Yeah, well, I was in the UNSC Army until my unit got word from high up about some special assignment that came down. Like, it came from way high up. From my MAJCOM, I think."
"So you got selected for this special assignment, huh?" Carolina guessed.
"Actually, no," Tucker said, snorting. "Like a dumbass, I volunteered for the special assignment. I mean, they didn't reveal any details at all."
"Tucker," Carolina chuckled, smiling. "It's the military. Everyone knows that you don't volunteer in the military at all."
Tucker waved off the obvious statement. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. But I only volunteered because I wanted out of where I was stationed at."
"Where were you stationed at and why'd you want to get out?"
Tucker moved to put his hands in his pockets, shrugging at the question. "Beats me. To be totally honest I don't even know. It was Fort Deen or something at one of those outer colonies. Those few backwater planets the UNSC had control of. Ain't nothing out there, the locals don't like us, and it's like in the middle of nowhere." Tucker proceeded to kick an empty soda can that was littered around into a nearby alley. "Lame ass first duty assignment coming out of AIT."
"So, not a lot of women, then?" Carolina mused, jokingly.
Tucker snapped to her. "Oh, there were plenty of women. Just, eughh," he gagged, sticking his tongue out in disgust. "Bunch of 1's, 2's, and 3's over there. Like, I've only seen about 3 8's and 1 9 out there but all the other dudes were crawling all over them."
"I can't imagine," Carolina said with a dry tone.
"Neither can I!" Tucker agreed, not picking up on Carolina's tone. She shook her head. "Anyway, so that special assignment came down from MAJCOM and I'm the absolute first to volunteer for it without knowing anything. I'm like, sayonara bitches."
"And then…"
"Then I ended up going through this whole screening process that I didn't care for at the time, did some interviews, and lots of bullshit. But at the time, I was just excited to get an assignment out of that outer colony."
Carolina hummed, following along. "Then you never imagined—"
"That'd I'd end up in the middle of nowhere again—fuckin' A, I know," Tucker cursed, looking up at the night sky.
Carolina paused. "Do you regret volunteering for that special assignment?"
Tucker took a moment to think about the question. "Well, at the time, I fucking regretted the ever-living shit out of it. I'd rather have stayed stationed on that backwater planet."
Carolina frowned.
Tucker then turned to look at her with a look that Carolina was unable to interpret. "But, now, after all the shit I got put through, meeting you, Wash, and everyone else." Tucker removed his hands from his pockets and ran a hand through his hair. "Best decision of my life," he breathed out with a slight smirk.
Carolina froze, stunned. Tucker stared at her silently, a look of confusion on his face as to why she had stopped. He tilted his head and looked at her expectantly. Then she smiled. For a second time that night, Tucker got to see Carolina genuinely smile. He'd then realize that he wanted to see her smile like that more often rather than the gloomy, serious, and frightening expressions she gave off.
The moment would be interrupted by Carolina's cell going off. Tucker looked at her, silently asking what the phone call was all about. In her head, Carolina recognized the ringtone playing indicated that Epsilon, or Church, was the caller. "It's Church," she answered Tucker's silent question. Without a word, she moved over down towards a dark alley to gain some privacy.
Tucker followed along with a roll of his eyes. "Sure, let's just go down the dark alley all alone, why don't we," he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets and following closely behind Carolina.
Once down the alley and ensuring that she and Tucker were its only occupants, Carolina pulled out the phone and answered the call.
"Church?"
"Yeah, hey, Carolina!" Church replied in a suspiciously chipper tone. "How's it going out there partying, huh?"
Tucker gave Carolina a look, silently asking what Church was calling for. Carolina shrugged before replying. "It's going," she answered carefully.
"Cool, cool, that's good to hear. Listen, Carolina, I need you and the guys to do me a solid."
Mentally, Carolina groaned. "What is it, Church?"
Tucker took position and leaned up against the wall, pulling out his phone to play some sort of game.
"Well, it's not for me. It's for Lopez. He says we'll need some parts and tools if he's going to get some of this housekeeping shit done. Some cleaning supplies, toiletry, y'know, the works."
This time, Carolina audibly groaned. "Really, Church? I thought I told you to call me if it was important."
"But this is important," Church, reasoned. "Besides, I'm monitoring the radio scanners and shit, and it's been pretty quiet tonight. Couple gang shootings, few store robberies and muggings—"
"That's quiet?"
"Relatively, yeah. All the supers are handling all that. Well, mostly Spider-Man. I tell ya, that dude moves quick as hell. Makes me wonder what kind of life he lives out of the mask and how he's able to do all that."
Carolina remained silent for a few moments before sighing, giving in. "Copy that, Church."
"Thanks a bunch, Carolina. I'll send you a text chock full of all the stuff we'll need. Talk to ya later!"
Then, just like that, the call has ended. Carolina briefly stared at the blank phone, taking note of her reflection before pocketing it. Tucker glances up to notice that the exchange is done. He gets off the wall and pockets his phone. He then proceeds to stand in front of her.
"What did Church want?"
Carolina felt the urge to massage her temples despite her lack of a headache. "We'll be running errands after this. Pick up some supplies from some stores and stuff."
"Damn," Tucker cursed Church. He had been hoping tonight would be uneventful and that he and the gang could just go straight home afterward. Looking past Carolina, he squints his eyes and notices a couple of silhouettes approaching them. "Am I going crazy or are those actual people coming down here walking towards us ominously?"
Carolina spun around to face what Tucker had been talking about. True to his word, it seemed like a couple of ominous dark figures were approaching them. Once they stepped into the light, they revealed themselves to be men who were dressed and equipped to perform criminal activities. One such activity would be:
"A mugging, really?" Tucker whispered to Carolina in disbelief. "Dammit, I didn't bring my sword to pull out tonight—bow chicka bow—"
"Tucker," Carolina warned in a hushed voice. "Not the time."
"Right, um, understood."
Soon, Carolina and Tucker found themselves surrounded by five men dressed in unkempt clothing and threatening faces. The supposed leader stepped forward, brandishing his firearm. Carolina found it to be a simple 9mm handgun. Loaded too, she analyzed.
Tucker whispered yet again. "Classic mugging. Like the ones you see in cartoons and comics and shit—"
Carolina elbowed Tucker's side, shutting him up. She'd hear him utter a quiet apology.
"This doesn't have to get ugly if you and your boyfriend hand over all your money, got it?" To further enunciate the threat, the man waved his gun around. His lackeys on all sides brandished their weapons. Carolina counted two with blades, one with a blunt object, and one who appeared to be unarmed for the time being.
Tucker couldn't help but commentate quietly. "See, classic mugging monologue. Next, he's going to—"
Another sharp elbow to his side with much more oomph sent Tucker to groan in pain. She didn't need Tucker cracking jokes in a serious situation like this.
Unarmed and outnumbered, the odds of retaliating and coming out unscathed were not in their favor. She was confident in her ability to disarm the leader and completely overpower every single one of them in hand-to-hand combat. However, her eyes flickered over to Tucker. A wisecracker? Yes. A smartass? Yes. A capable fighter? Debatable. A lady's man? Absolutely not.
She digresses. She wasn't very confident in Tucker's ability to take on the other armed threats. A fighter he was not. At least when it comes to hand-to-hand. Maybe if he had his sword on him it'd be a different story. However, even if he did, it would be much too overkill for the situation.
Then there was that single unarmed thug. That fact complicates things. It's possible he could be hiding his weapon. Potentially concealing a firearm. It didn't help that this certain thug was at their 6 o'clock while the leader with the visible firearm was at their 12. If she left Tucker to deal with the others, that would include that unknown threat. He wouldn't be capable of handling all the others while she dealt with the leader.
No, not again. She wouldn't risk her teammates—her family's life just to come out as number one. She berated herself for even letting the thought cross her mind.
Carolina slowly raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, you got us. Just please don't hurt us." She gritted her teeth, having to sound so pathetic and weak.
Tucker looked at her bewildered and shocked. Yet, he too raises his arms in the air. "Uh, yeah, man. We don't want no trouble."
"You," the unarmed thug behind Tucker said, "toss everything you have onto the floor."
Tucker silently compiled. Carolina counted and took note of what Tucker tossed onto the concrete. Phone, yup. Some coins he had picked up off the street earlier, yup. A container full of breath mints, okay. Then…a pack of condoms hits the pavement.
Carolina pauses, eyeing the package before glancing back at Tucker. His only response was a sheepish look and a slight shrug of his shoulders.
One of the thugs clicks his tongue, chuckling. "Well, looks like you were planning to get lucky in this alley, huh?" A simple misunderstanding that can be corrected with a knee to his groin but Carolina couldn't do that. Not yet, anyway. "Not your lucky night, pal."
"Hey," another thug piped up. "You got a wallet or something?"
Tucker gave out a nervous laugh. "Ha, you see, I kind of forgot my wallet at home."
All five thugs look at him incredulously. "Terrible date," the last thug said in a mocking tone.
"Eh," Tucker says dismissively despite himself.
"Alright, you," the leader points the pistol at Carolina. "Your turn. Everything you got. Now."
Carolina reluctantly complies with grit teeth. She tosses her wallet, phone, and the keys to the Warthog onto the floor.
"No purse?" The leader asks with a raised brow.
"Nah, she's not that type of gal, y'know?" Tucker quips. Carolina whips her head around to send him a murderous look. Tucker almost recoils back. "Sorry," he apologizes sheepishly.
"Hey, boss, since he's not getting lucky tonight, how about we get lucky instead?" One of the thugs suggests with a vulgar smile.
The others nod and verbally agree with the notion. The leader admires Carolina, a sickening perverted grin spreading. "Y'know, I think I like what I see…"
"Gross," Tucker gagged quietly. Carolina would agree with him. Men like these sickened her to the core. She would gladly love to teach them a painful lesson and show them why she was ranked number one on the Freelancer leaderboard.
The leader then begins to slowly approach Carolina, a crazed look in his eyes. Carolina steps back which prompts the others to move in closer in response, perceiving a threat.
"What're we gonna do, Carolina?" Tucker asks her in a hushed voice, still keeping his hands in the air.
Carolina's mind is racing, debating on her course of action for her and Tucker. She looks back to him and Tucker doesn't look as worried as he should be. Could it be that he completely trusts her to guide them out of this situation? Was his faith and confidence in her really that unshakeable? Carolina felt humbled if that was the case, giving her even more reason to find a way to get Tucker out of harm's way while she dealt with the sons of bitches.
"Tucker, I need you to run out of here," Carolina ordered, mindful of her volume.
Tucker looked at her aghast. "What the fuck, no! I'm not leaving you alone."
"Trust me. I can handle them. Don't worry about me."
"Not happening," Tucker hissed out with a surprising amount of conviction. Carolina would appreciate the sentiment but she needed Tucker out of here, or so says her logical reasoning.
"I got this," she retorts.
"I'm not leaving you alone for shit," he bites back.
"Tucker, listen—"
"Fuck that, Carolina, I'm staying here with you. We got this," Tucker almost growled out.
Carolina blinked, looking at Tucker. His eyes showed that he was definitely not backing down for whatever reason. Seems like he really has matured a lot since she met him. A womanizer, he was not. But a damn good comrade and companion she could rely on he was.
Unaware of their exchange at all, the leader has enough. "Alright, bitch, come up here nice and slowly."
Carolina turns to face the threat. She narrows her eyes and glances back at Tucker. He nods. She takes a brief moment of pondering before she nods as well. They'll face this together.
She prepares to put herself in a fighting stance.
"What the?!" Suddenly, the pistol the leader was holding was yanked out of his grasp and thrown into the air. Carolina was able to faintly see it but it appeared a strand of string or something had attached itself to the weapon and flung it in the air.
An unknown voice above rang out. "Well, this is quite the rendezvous, isn't it?"
"Shit," one of the thugs cursed, his eyes going wide in a panic. "It's the bug!"
"Huh?" Tucker couldn't help but let out a confused audible sound.
Then, a thin line of string, or webbing, Carolina deduced, had suddenly attached to the floor before an unknown figure came barrelling from seemingly nowhere and striking the leader feet first in the upper torso with enough force to send him flying back several feet, knocking him down for the count. The figure must have pulled itself utilizing the thin webline and came sailing from above where it was perched to strike the thug.
The downed leader's body was then coated with a thick coat of webbing, trapping him completely.
Then the figure revealed itself to what appeared to be a man clad in a red and blue suit with black web lines and a mask with white lenses. A small black spider emblem was prominently displayed on his center chest. "Strike three, you're out!" The costumed man exclaims excitedly. "And I'm an arachnid, not a bug. Sheesh, everyone gets that wrong all the time."
Baffled, Carolina couldn't help but tilt her head and stare at their potential savior with an incredulous look.
"What, I got something on my face or something?" The man tilts his head comically, noticing her look.
"Spider-Man!" The unarmed thug hisses venomously.
"Yes, I'm Spider-Man," Spider-Man says casually. He thrusts both his hands out and sends two weblines towards the thugs. "Whoops, can't have those." The web lines connect to the two thug's blades and are snatched out of their grasp. Shortly after, another one is sent to the bat one of the thugs was holding and it too met the same fate as the blades.
That leaves four unarmed individuals to deal with. If this were the situation they were in initially, this would be a cinch for Carolina. Tucker probably still won't be able to keep up. Even then, Carolina wouldn't want to put that kind of risk on Tucker.
Spider-Man looked at Carolina and his body language gave off the fact that he recognized her. Wait, maybe not recognize her. Perhaps reminded him of someone. The slight doubletake he did, although minuscule, was noteworthy to Carolina. Well, she could think about that later. There were more pressing matters at hand.
Spider-Man gave a slight glance to the packet of condoms on the floor then one to both Carolina and Tucker. He shook his head disapprovingly. "Not gonna judge but anyway," Spider-Man then turns his attention toward the criminals. "Time to teach you bad boys a lesson for interrupting a lovely date between two couples!"
Well, he's certainly a character, Carolina mused. Far too jovial.
"You fu—" One of the men begins to curse before his entire mouth is webbed shut with a quick shot from Spider-Man's webshooter.
"Woah, there, potty mouth! Watch the language," Spider-Man quips. Carolina could practically hear the smile under his mask. Seems he enjoys being a superhero far more than he should. Carolina then turns to look at Tucker to gauge his reaction to this whole fiasco.
Tucker stares at the thug who had gotten his mouth webbed shut. He then whips towards Spider-Man and looks at him for a moment, sizing him up. Carolina wonders what Tucker is thinking of at the moment. Then a puzzled yet horrified expression appears on Tucker's face as he's struck with realization.
"Dude, did you just cu—"
A/N: Little bit short chapter but I finished it. I won't be writing as often. Probably at all. I just felt a little inspired at the moment. I'm in the Air Force now so it's kind of hard to find time for myself these days, especially when I'd rather play games and other stuff instead of writing. But here's a treat.