Author's note:

I love both the mass effect and gears of war games. That being said I don't own any characters of any kind, the rights to the characters belong to their respective companies, just writing a story inspired by two others I've read on the platform concerning my favorite character from gears, Clayton Carmine, and the types of shenanigans he'd get up to in the mass effect universe. This is also my first official attempt at making a fanfiction so criticism is well appreciated as I'm always looking to improve. Now that this bit of rambling is done, let's get started shall we.

Dream sequence/flashbacks

'Thoughts'

"Dialogue"

Carmine POV:

"Eat dirt and die motherfucker!" I yell out at the locust queen, she's riding some kind of giant flying beetle because of fucking course she is.

More importantly she's got my squad, Delta, pinned down. She's the cunt responsible for the deaths of my brothers, and countless others over the years. My muscles tense and I squeeze my fists tight around the turret's grips.

A long time ago I vowed to make her and the rest of the grubs pay. They took everything from me, so slaughtering every grub I come across is the least I could do to pay them back. And this flying beetle is one of the biggest, ugliest grubs I've ever seen.

I squeezed down hard on the trigger of the Raven's vulcan turret I was mounted on. The Raven was flying in circles around the top of the hotel as I mulched the grubs and lambent below into paste. I'm just glad I got here in time to help keep Delta safe. I peppered the queen with spare rounds in between shredding the grubs and glowies threatening my team.

I'm going to buy Marcus and the rest of Delta as much time as possible, even if it kills me. I feel the heat of the turret, it's spent casings hit my bare arms. The empty rounds were scalding but nothing was going to stop me from protecting Delta. A little burn now and again was healthy.

I see them down there, popping grubs and glowies left and right, holding their position. I see them and think of family, the only family I have left. The queen is spewing nonsense as her flying monstrosity fires some kind of fire breath from its mouth, forcing my squad back into cover. This bitch is not taking any more family from me.

"Hey, it's Carmine!" I hear Cole say over the coms link.

"Don't worry guys I got your backs. The cavalry has arrived!" I yell back to Delta as I keep firing into the queen and the grubs below, every grub I cut into meaty bits fuels the rage in my blood. Most of the rounds I was shooting at the queen did very little but it felt good all the same. I unleash another volley of turret fire and can't help the rising anger as it boils in throat. I'm done holding back and let my rage spew from my lips.

"EAT DIRT AND DIE MOTHERFUCKER!"

Normal POV:

Marcus and the others were holding their position fending off the incoming locust and lambent. His father, Adam Fenix, was almost done charging his countermeasure to wipe out both the locust and lambent for good. Just a few more minutes and it would finally be over.

"TAKE THAT YOU BITCH!!!" Carmine screamed out as he unleashed a large volley of bullets into the locust queen. The torrent of lead barely scratched the flying beast.

"You dare challenge me worm!?" The queen raises a hand to the Raven and her beetle shot forth a burning light from its maw that set the chopper ablaze.

Carmine and its crew start to plummet, "Ah shit we're on fire, we're on fire!" Marcus and the rest heard the eldest Carmine shout out in panic. Delta stood powerless to aid their friend as he was shot out of the sky.

"No, Carmine! Take that bitch down!" Marcus ordered as they all began to fire upon the queen. Adam tosses his son a hammer of dawn and he primes the deadly beam. A sneer on his face as he glares at the overconfident queen.

While the chopper was falling, Carmine had a few seconds to reflect, as if his life were flashing before his eyes. Believing death was finally coming to claim the last Carmine, 'I took down so many of those grubs, a shame I won't be killin' any more.' Clay thought to himself.

He shut his eyes as the raven was rapidly approaching the ground, "I hope I made you all proud." Clay muttered to himself before darkness enveloped him.

"Shit, what happened? Where the hell am I?" Clayton looked around and saw only blackness. He reached for his lancer, his boltok, anything. But found nothing. Carmine let out a sigh, not being particularly comfortable with being disarmed. The memory of his crash came back to him and he hums.

"So, death finally came for me huh? Well I guess I better start looking for you doofuses." Clay looked to his large muscular right arm to see his tattoo to memorialize his brothers and laid a hand on it.

He smiled knowing he'd get to see them again. Three helmets were displayed in his tattoo, as well as three names. Benjamin, Anthony, and David. The background was the Cog's emblem with wings and featured a sword going down the middle, R.I.P. is written close to the helmets of his brothers.

He felt his face, his helmet was gone and an expression of confusion was held instead. When he pulled his hand back it was soaked in blood. A deep cut adorned his right eyebrow, as well as a split in his bottom lip, "Heh my face always bleeds the most."

His thoughts then traveled to how he got his tattoo to memorialize his brothers in the first place, "Sam." He mutters.

They served together during operation hollow storm. But they spent a lot of time together prior to that, having gone through boot camp together. Sam is a short, gorgeous Kaskuran gal who's tough as nails. She was there for him during and after every battle, fighting along side him, patching up his wounds, staying with him, and messing around with him. She was his closest friend.

They would talk about anything for what seemed like hours. Could be anything from life, previous battles, family, or explosives, "Yeah I almost forgot she was demolitions, what with how often she patched me up I assumed she was the medic for the longest time."

He thought she had shared his warm feelings, but after Operation Hollow Storm he caught on that she liked Baird instead. It started after they joined up with Delta. Their long talks mostly consisted of Baird's antics as they settled into their new lives at sea

"Even after that night...no she wouldn't be interested in me, she always talked about Baird being an asshole but that's just a façade, at least Baird is normal. I'm just a killing machine, nobody could care about me. I was made for one purpose, and now that purpose is fulfilled. Good luck Sam, I'll miss you...and the rest of Delta too I guess."

He chuckled to himself before the blood loss was starting to take its toll which caught him off guard, "I've bled way more than this before, shit, anyone in Delta could tell you that. Nothing can stop me, not bullets, not blades, not teeth, not anything."

Carmine shuts his eyes feeling slightly woozy, and after he opens them a memory was playing right in front of him, almost like a movie. It was his youngest brother Benjamin talking to him right before Clayton shipped off to boot camp, "You think maybe one day I'll be as big as you Clay?" Ben timidly squeaked. Clayton almost didn't recognize the sound of his voice.

It was unlike Ben to be that nervous and soft spoken around him, "You don't have to be as big as me squirt, you're a hell of a shot, and heck if you do get as big as me, that just means I gotta beat the snot out of ya to keep it from going to your head." Young Clayton joked. Both brothers shared a laugh, and once more fell into silence.

All that could be heard from their front porch was the fall breeze and sounds of traffic, "I know you're scared, but I'll be fine squirt."

"Promise that we'll all be back together, all of us brothers." Ben said, a rather determined shift to his voice.

"We'll all be back together one day squirt, I promise. Brothers to the end right?" Clayton said with a heavy head pat to his younger brother.

"Hell yeah!" Benjamin exclaims, launching himself into young Clayton's middle for a hug.

Clayton's eyes watered after hearing the promise he made so many years ago, "I'm so sorry squirt, Anthony, David, mom, dad...but we can be together now. Just like I said." Clay reached out to try and reach into his memory to ruffle Ben's hair but stopped halfway.

Ben was looking right at him, right into his eyes, "What happened to being back together Clay?"

Clayton was shocked, "Benjamin." was the only word he could rasp out of his now dry mouth, his throat felt rough, and it only got worse. Ben's words were dripping with sadness, as if he was about to cry.

In an instant the memory changed, now his brothers stood before him. Benjamin was torn open, his entire chest cavity exposed, Anthony's left eye was gone and a viscous hole marred the back his head, David was skin and bones, hooks stuck to his back from being tortured. Clayton's eyes were pouring tears now, "You couldn't save us Clay. Brothers to the end." His brothers spoke in unison.

In a flash, tons of faces sparked across his vision, people he failed to save, fellow soldiers, friends, his family.

All dead, and he couldn't save them.

"Aaaaaaaaaah!"

"Aaaaaahhhhh!!" Carmine roared, his wail of suffering carrying back into the real world. He shot awake, gasping for air, the lights on his armor sparking back to life after sensing his consciousness. The gear sat up, looking around frantically.

Carmine's head tilted up to catch blue energy pulses flowing across the sky. His lungs pushed air to and from his body savagely. His body was trembling.

It took him a few minutes to settle down but after that, he noticed he was in the sand a good 50-60 feet away from the burning husk of the raven. They had landed on the beach.

"Fucking nightmares." He said groaning as he got up, patting the sand from his pants and wiping his armor off. The words Grub Killer, Practice Reloading, Keep Your Head Down, and numerous other phrases along with multiple stains of blood decorated his bulky, sleeveless armor. Grub Killer being the most prevalent of them all in white and red paint right under the cog symbol on the front of his chest plate.

"Argh fuck, my back is killing me." Clay moaned as he cracked his back, a sickening pop released from the confines of his spine.

Carmine noticed from his stretch that he was missing some things, "I wonder if all those waves worked or not. Eh, doesn't matter, still need my guns." Clay thought out loud before getting to work searching for his weapons, conveniently finding them all not too far from the crash site.

His lancer assault rifle, boltok revolver, gnasher shotgun, and torque bow were scattered around where he assumes he first smashed into the ground after being flung from the crashing raven. He returned them to the free spots on his back, his revolver going in its holster. The only thing missing is his helmet which washes to shore while he makes his way over to an injured pilot.

"There you are beautiful, can't be killing grubs without proper protection." Clay snickered as he picked up his modified helmet, placing it back over his messy head of hair. The lights of the eyes flash back on as it settles on his head, thankfully not a lot of water made it's way into his helmet, if so he might have lost it to the sea.

"Motherfucker my left lens is cracked, I had that custom made." he whined, shaking his head slightly in disappointment. He made his way to the raven's pilot who was somehow still alive.

"Woah come on now pal you're not dead yet, that leg wound is pretty rough though." Carmine said to him. The pilot had a large bit of metal sticking from his thigh. As Carmine began lifting him into a sitting position he noticed a series of ravens were approaching. His head perks up as sounds of people cheering poked at at his ear drums.

Ever since hollow storm he had noticed a significant increase in most of his senses, it helped him get the upper hand on a lot of grubs throughout the ass end of the war, 'What the hell is everyone so excited about, unless...the war really is over? No. They survived twice, they can do it again.' Clay thought.

Signaling an incoming Raven to land with a wave, he helped the injured pilot get on board. He then climbed aboard himself, his lancer pressed firmly to his mid section, "Won't be needing that anymore soldier, all reports confirm the war is finally over. Those blue waves apparently killed the lambent and locust simultaneously across the planet." The pilot spoke to him through his tac com.

"They did it...the war is, over?" Clay couldn't believe it, he's been fighting for so long, so tirelessly, so relentlessly. All he wanted was to make all the grubs pay, to kill and mutilate as many as he could before he died. Clayton never expected to actually make it out of the war alive.

Carmine looks up and notices there were more passengers on the raven, a couple other survivors picked up by the pilot. They began celebrating, and he snickered as the two gears that sat in front of him took their helmets off and shared a rather intense kiss in front of him.

The injured pilot who sat to his right groaned, either from the metal bit jutting from his leg or the public display of affection, 'Heh, maybe if Sam isn't with Baird yet she'll let me lay one on her.' He thought, shaking his head slightly as the gears continued their make out session in front of him.

"I hate to be a cockblocker and all, but if you two don't cut the shit, I'm going to step in." The two gears separated for a moment to look at Carmine. He deduced they were both in their early 20's. They were blushing like crazy and breathing heavily from their prolonged kiss. The pair were slightly startled by both the appearance and volume of the veteran gear.

"SORRY GRUB KILLER SIR. JUST REALLY EXCITED." The young male gear spoke up, referring to Clay by his well known nickname. The young man had to yell to be heard over the sounds of the raven.

Clayton didn't have that issue, his voice was deep enough to pierce through, "We don't know for certain that the war is over. Until we see it for ourselves, keep your cock in your pants." He said to the red-faced couple.

The young gears both gave mock salutes to him and he chuckled, "Smart asses." Shaking his head when they dropped their salutes.

Once the Raven landed and the gears were back on solid ground, the pilot took his injured comrade to get his wounds treated, nodding to Clayton as he helped his fellow pilot off the raven, "Appreciate the assist Grub Killer." Carmine didn't respond, simply waving to the retreating pair.

The two younger gears plopped out of the Raven and had a word with Clay before they went off on their own, "Sir would it alright if we participated in the celebration sir." the female gear said in a mocking tone.

Clay shook his helmeted head and waved a dismissing hand at them, "Drop the sir shit kid, I'm a private. Same as you two."

They smiled at him and went to walk away. As they were leaving Clay notices the girl take a sharp turn, her short blonde hair whipping around as she cups her hands like a cone around her mouth to yell out, "Hey Grub Killer you should probably get your wounds checked out!" She then tugs her man behind her as they scampered off to do god knows what.

Clayton looked puzzled but as the adrenaline of surviving the raven crash, and having hyped himself up for a possible fight died down he felt a dripping from his chin. There was a gross, sticky dampness on this throat. The cuts he sustained in his mini-nightmare were wide open, and he looked at his reflection through a piece of broken glass, catching sight of his blood dripping out the bottom of his helmet.

"Ah so that part of the nightmare was real, fucking figures." Clay muttered. He looked like hell, but to be fair he usually did. His blood soaked into the top of the sleeveless shirt under his armor and flowed steadily down his chin. Either dripping off to land on his bulky armor, or trailing down his throat past his dangling Cog tags.

"Wouldn't be the first time I'm covered in blood, won't be the last. It takes more than a little blood loss to take me down." Carmine said with a laugh as he made his way to where most of the gears were gathering at the front of the hotel. Lancer still squeezed in his large hands, ready to cut down any grub still alive.

Instead of meeting a few grub survivors and getting some of his pent up aggression out of his system, Carmine found only locust corpses. With a disappointed grumble he releases a few rounds into them and continued. Carmine found the massive gathering of gears at the front door to the hotel.

They were all cheering, some firing their guns in the air, it seemed like the war was truly over. Carmine worked his way through the crowd of gears to get to the opening where he thinks Delta is at. Seeing as they were responsible for the war's end he assumed they'd be the center of attention.

Carmine spaced out while walking and sniffing at the air, sifting through all the scents in the area in an effort to find Delta. Well, more specifically Sam. He inhaled deep through his nose and smiled, she always used strawberry shampoo. Even after a day filled with running about and fighting it was very easy for him to identify, 'Thank god you're still here.'

"Hey! Watch it bud-" A gear said as Clayton nudged him while he went past, the smaller man stopped himself once he got an eyeful of the bloodied Delta squad member.

"I-I didn't know i-i-it was you Grub Killer. That's my bad man." The gear put his hands up and took a few steps back letting Clayton fully into the area occupied by Delta. Clay ignored the gear and walked through the opening. As he made his way through he heard a very familiar voice.

"WOOOOO! Yeah baby, you know the Grub Killer ain't dying in no raven crash. It's good to see ya big fella'!" Cole was ecstatic to see his friend had survived and embraced his fellow gear in a full blown hug. Clay was still holding onto his lancer but returned the hug, his gun dropping to his side, held firm in his right hand.

"You're damn right Cole, nothing is putting this gear down. How could tell I was coming?" Carmine asked.

Cole barked out a laugh and said, "Maaaan, you're the resident tree of Delta squad, tallest of the bunch. Also because of that big ass dent in your helmet. Nobody has survived more headshots than you baby, nobody!" Carmine chuckled at his answer, he wasn't much taller than the members of Delta, but he was taller than most rank and file gears. And he definitely had been shot in the head more than anyone he knew.

"Oh boy, great to see at least one Carmine make it. Guess I owe you 20 bucks Cole." The friendly banter between Cole and Carmine was cut off as Baird chipped in, handing Cole two ten dollar bills. Followed by a bit of awkward silence as Baird realized how awful that sounded.

"Well I can't say I blame either of you. I'm almost positive I've been seriously injured more than anyone here. You at least going to cut me in or what Cole?" Clay said trying to rise the mood back up, he didn't mind they bet on him dying.

Honestly he didn't expect to make it as long as he did, "See Baird, there's that charisma that you're lacking. Clayton here shines bright baby, you earned these ten big ones." Cole shot back, stuffing a ten dollar bill into a pouch on Clay's belt.

"Yeah yeah yeah, I get it Cole I'm antisocial. But honestly it's good to see you big guy. Although you're soaked in your own blood as usual. Might wanna get that looked at." Baird said motioning to the small streams of blood still leaking from under Carmine's helmet and down his throat.

"Ah this is nothing, you guys have seen me take worse than a couple cuts. Is it true though? Is the war really over?" Carmine asked the duo. Secretly hoping that they'd tell him no, and he could get back to making the grubs suffer.

"You bet your big ass it is. Marcus stabbed that cunt queen right in front of them with Dom's knife. That evil bitch is rotting in hell now. As for those wounds Carm, you'll be gettin the special treatment." Clayton knew that thick Kaskur accent very well and turned to look at her.

The sun was reflecting off her hair and skin perfectly, giving her the appearance of a goddess. Clay soaked her all in, she's beautiful in every meaning of the word. Her face and everything below was borderline perfect to him. Clayton at this point was just staring blankly, thankfully his face was covered by his helmet as his eyes wandered down her slim midsection to her hips and big thighs, the blood dripping from his chin was keeping his blood flow in check conveniently for him.

"Oh great, naggy Cathy is back." Baird said, receiving a swift kick to the shin as a response.

"Would you prefer nagging, or another kick blondie?" Sam retorted, getting a laugh from Clay and Cole in turn as a pissed off Baird whined and rubbed his bruising shin.

"So the war is really over...shit." Carmine spoke up as gunfire and cheering began to lower in frequency as the gears surrounding the hotel's front were moving to a new area to celebrate. Carmine looked out to the beach and saw Anya and Marcus both armorless. They're sitting, holding each other while they watched the sunset.

"I think I need a hard drink." Carmine said, the impact of the war's end slowly becoming more apparent to the last Carmine brother the longer he thinks about not being able to kill any locust.

'They can't be gone, they're still here somewhere. Hiding, waiting. They haven't suffered enough, we need to make them pay. It's all we know. It's all we are,' Clay's thoughts ran rampant, his rage becoming visible to his squad mates as he raised his lancer back into both of his hands. Sam notices he was holding it rather tight, his knuckles cracking from his intense grip.

His silence becoming deafening among the cheers and celebration, Clayton looked as if he was mentally preparing to go into battle. A look that everyone in Delta could spot. Even with his helmet on the burly gear had a very expressive way about him. Cole and Baird motioned for Sam to do something. She always knew how to help Carmine. To bring him back into reality before, during, and after his rampages.

"Couldn't agree more mate, come on let's go inside. Then I could have a look at those bleeders too." Sam said walking over to Carmine, placing a hand gently on his bicep and giving the muscle a squeeze, 'I know he doesn't wear sleeves much, and we've been around each other for so long but still. I forgot just how solid he is.' Sam thought, letting her hand linger for a bit while slightly nibbling at her lower lip.

She stared at him, it had been quite some time since she saw him without his armor on, but when it was off she had to admit it was quite the sight. Her hand unconsciously squeezes Carmine's large bicep again.

Carmine tensed up, finally feeling her hand on him and looked over to her, his helmeted head turning to get a better look only to catch her eying him up. She looked up into those glowing blue eyes of his helmet and lightly blushed. She then pinched the underside of his bicep as hard as she could to try and avoid him noticing her embarrassment.

"OW!! Hey what the hell?" Carmine whined as he clipped his lancer to his back and nursed the fresh pinch with his recently freed right hand.

"Quit your whining you big baby. Don't think I didn't see you checkin' me out ya creep. That helmet can only hide so much." Sam said with a wink, causing Carmine to flick her decently hard on the forehead.

A gasp escaped Sam's lips followed by a smile as Carmine said, "I wasn't the one feeling my arm up, that's sexual harassment you banshee." Cole and Baird chuckle as his tone flips to match Sam's playfulness,

"I guess we're just a couple of pervs then huh?" Sam teases.

"Not me I'm the victim here. I was being fondled." Carmine retorts.

"Oh hush you loved it." Sam nudges his unarmored gut and he gently swats her hand.

The banter between the two pulls Carmine from the depths he was sinking to. Clay admired her, she always knew what to do and what to say. It seemed like she really cared.

He knew she didn't, but he enjoyed her company all the same. Cole and Baird went off with some of the other gears to celebrate and it left the two of them alone. He heard Sam say something but was so engrossed in his thinking that he completely missed what she said.

"I'll take that silence as consent to fondle you whenever I bloody see fit then Clayton." Sam said while booping the front of Clay's helmeted face with a fingertip.

"W-what, no I didn't agree to anything here. N-not that I'd mind but...did you just call me Clayton?" If he didn't have his helmet on, his blush would've been visible, she's never really called him by his first name casually. Sam was usually angry at him when she used it.

She has a very amused look on her face, 'Just too easy big guy,'

She caught him off guard, hearing his name never sounded so sweet to him, "Awww is there something wrong with that mate. That's too bad, I don't have to call you Clayton if it makes you feel better." She drew out his name slowly while taking a step toward him.

"Hey I didn't say that, it's just different is all. I'm used to you being two seconds away from punching my head off when I hear my name." Clay said with a laugh. He just noticed how close she had gotten, her chest armor was almost pressing into his.

She looked up at him with those big, brown, beautiful eyes. A cocky smirk adorned her full lips, "Why don't we go get that drink now?" Clay suggested, reaching up to nervously scratch the back of his helmet. A habit gained from wearing his helmet for so long.

"Took the words right out of my mouth." She went up on her tippy toes to get as close to his helmet as possible, all he could smell were strawberries, the blush on his face burned hotter.

Sam whispered to him "You don't know how glad I am that you made it." Then dropped back down and headed off toward the giant double doors, hips swaying with a hint of suggestion.

"Holy shit, I can't tell if I'm the luckiest or unluckiest man alive." Clay said under his breath, his eyes latched onto her bouncing posterior. He didn't notice Sam turned her head, catching him in the act as his helmet was visibly turned down to catch her curves.

With a smirk Sam yelled out to him, "Carmine you going to look at my ass all day, or am I gonna have to go drink with someone else!?"

This startled Carmine as a few straggling gears heard this, looked right at him, and started laughing while joking about the big bad Grub Killer getting caught by the short Kaskuran.

Carmine shook his head and started off after her. They walked into the dining area, which conveniently enough had a bar. The two opened up the adjoined doors into the bar and gasped, "Guess the grubs didn't need all this booze, huh?" Carmine said while looking the rows of alcohol up and down.

There was quite possibly a hundred or more bottles lined up behind the bar on it's shelves. "Suppose not, why don't you take a seat and I'll grab some 'disinfectant' for ya Clay." Sam replied looping herself around the counter to rummage for a specific alcohol.

Clay nodded, laughed, and took a seat close to where she was looking, "HA, BINGO!" Sam yells from behind the counter. Carmine was too busy staring at her bent over form to notice her head turn to look back at him in order to show him the bottle of Vodka she found.

"Seems to me you've got other things in mind besides your favorite type of booze, huh big guy?" Sam said in a sultry tone, sending shivers down Clay's spine.

"H-how do you know I wasn't looking at something else, hmm?" Clay shot back slightly stammering. Sam placed the bottle on the counter and leaned over the bar to get closer to him. She wiggles her finger to beckon him closer, which he was wary of but obliged. He couldn't get enough of her scent, and when he was as close as they were, it was all he could smell.

His helmet and her face were a foot apart when she finally said something, "I don't mind if you look, honestly I grab eyefuls of you all the time Carm. Now let's see that handsome face big guy."

Sam copied his hum and added a smirk that made Carmine's face burn, and heart thump, 'No, she's with Baird, she's just teasing us! Goddamnit get a hold of yourself Clay...God Damn Strawberries!' Carmine did need to get the bleeding to stop one way or another, and this was a more preferred way of doing so. With her.

The look she was giving him would melt a normal man. He was no normal man though, he was her best friend. She'd have to work hard than that to get him to show his face, especially after all the teasing. A smile found its way to his helmeted-covered face.

Author's note:

Howdy, if you're reading this for the first time you can dismiss this. But if you're re-reading Cursed, firstly no you're not crazy, things are different. I'm not re-writing any of the chapters though, since it would take far too long. But if you notice any changes or fixed vocabulary things there's a reason for it.

I found out I can modify existing chapters and I thought I'd go back and clean up some of the stuff that bothered me in between writing new chapters. And of course edit a bit since I noticed just how many spelling errors are in my chapters and it bugs the hell out of me since I usually re-read my works 20 times before I post them.

But anyhow, if you're new here I hope you enjoy the rest of my silly little story. If you're returning I hope you like the updated version of this chapter and the others to come.