Archive of Our Own ^beta

The campfire flicked and crackled as it roared with life. Amber light sparked in the air, lighting up the backdrop of the pitch black night. Orange and Cobalt armor sat in silence, their helmets cast off to the side of them while half buried in the sand. Lukewarm beer held in a loose grip.

The chilling desert air bristling their exposed skin, a welcoming feeling next to the campfire and flushed faces from alcohol .

“Now,” Temple is the first to say something in a while, Biff lifted his head up, the other’s words catching his attention. “I’m not sure if this is the alcohol talking, but I think I came up with a better way to get you out of here,” He adds on, taking another sip from his drink . Temple leans back, the lawn chair creaking with the movement.

“Yeah? and what might that be?” Biff asked, Temple’s words catching his attention - hanging on to each word he said, waiting where the other was going .

“What if we didn’t have to get you out on medical leave? What if, instead?” Temple’s thoughts escape him, pausing for a minute. Maybe it was building up for emphasis, or it was because his brain was running at a snail’s pace and needed time to catch up with him .

“What if I surrendered?” He finishes, throwing his arms outwards for emphasis. Still having a hold of his beer can as he did so.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea I mean-“

“Look at us, Biff,” Temple cuts him off. “we’ve been here for years, and our stalemate has been going on just as long!” He finishes as he slumps deeper into his seat. Tucking his chin against his chest.

“But I thought you were the person to not give up when you are given a task?” Biff frowns as he says that, turning to his empty beer can and sticking it in the sand next to the other empty ones.

Biff looks over to the six-pack. Taking notice that there was only one beer left, and he doesn’t consider grabbing it. Saving it for a special occasion, or tomorrow. Whichever one happens first.

The Orange soldier lets out a heavy sigh and turns to look over at the other man once more. His face still looking concerned.

“I’m sure that this is the alcohol talking for me,” Temple pauses, closing his eyes for a moment. Letting a sigh pass his lips, combing a shaky hand through blonde hair.

“I’m sick and tired of all this fighting, of having to fight my best friend. I just want this dumb ‘war’ to be done and over with.”

“We should talk about this tomorrow, okay?” Biff suggested as he sits up in his chair.

Temple lets out another sigh, this time a lighter one. “You’re right,” He mutters into the lip of his beer can as he tilts it up to finish the rest of it.

The man knew the consequences of surrendering, and who even knows if that was going to be that simple for them to get out of Desert Gulch in the first place ? Who knows how much longer they’ll be stuck here even after the Blue Team surrenders?

Temple was tired of this, tired of this dumb box canyon, and he tired of having to go behind his ‘teammates’ back. To talk to his friend when no one is awake, to have some resemblance of a stable life out here.

He was the so-called ‘leader’ of the Blue team, so he could override anything Loco and Buckey had to say against the proposition of surrendering .

Though he knew was Biff was right, he should think about it a little more before going completely through with it .

Biff was right about certain things and it made Temple think that this was one of those times.

Temple looks over to Biff, watching as the other is hunched over to grab his helmet. Turning it over in his hands to check the time on the HUD. “We should call this a night,” He says, slipping his helmet back on and looking at Temple.

“Yeah,” Temple says as he turns his attention to the empty beer can in his hands. He was feeling the heaviness of his eyelids as he blinks a few times.

Temple lifts his head up in time to watch Biff pour water over the campfire. With a curt wave, the two of them parted ways for the night. Seeing only the faint outline of Biff as he returns to Red Base. Temple was still in his chair by the now dead campfire.

The Cobalt soldier shook his head to help clear his active thoughts. Perhaps a decent night's sleep would benefit him right now, as he could hardly keep his eyes open now.

So leaning over the arm of the lawn chair, he grabs for his helmet. Shaking out any loose sand before sliding it back over his head. Cleaning onto the arm of the lawn chair, Temple drags himself up. Feeling his head spin and vision swim as he did so.

Drinking while laying down was always a unique experience than compared to drinking while standing up .

After struggling to find the proper balance for a moment. Temple made his way back to Blue base. Still mulling over the idea of surrendering and getting them the hell out of Desert Gulch, so Biff can get back home to his wife and no longer worrying about dying on the battlefield .

Bitterness nips at Temple’s heart, and he makes his attempts to suffocate it. If his plan goes the right way, everyone in Desert Gulch will go home to their families (if they had one). Even if that means have to sacrifice his own honor and pride and the fact that he might never get to see Biff again.

At least Temple will sleep at night knowing that Biff will be safe at the place he is. Home with his loving wife and soon to be a newborn baby. Being the family man he deserves and was always meant to be.

The loud ringing of bell chimes as Shelly’s alarm system goes off jolts Temple awake. Leaving him with a splitting head as he opens his eyes. His tongue sticking to the roof of his dried mouth as he tries to focus on what the hell happened. Giving his eyes and mind a moment to catch up.

With a grunt Temple rolls himself on to his back, Half-lidded eyes glaring daggers up at the ceiling. “What!” Temple shouts, his voice still hoarse and dry from sleep.

“Temple wakes up, we are having guests!” Loco’s cheery voice calls from the overhead and Temple groans louder. Turning himself over to bury his head into his pillow. Who allowed Loco the controls to Shelly’s comm, anyway? Temple could have sworn that he Loco proof that stuff months ago.

Goes to show that when something has to do with technology. Loco will find some way to get past the more difficult parts of the mechanism.

This wasn’t something for Temple’s barely awake mind to handle and let it go.

Temple once more rolled onto his back and looked up. “Tell them to go away.” He shouts back.

“I don’t think the scary lady is going to like that,” Loco replied, sounding scared about whatever he was talking about .

“What the hell are you going on about?” Now it’s Buckey’s turn to cut into the conversation, having enough of Temple and Loco’s yelling match over the Base’s comm link .

“Freelancer Agent Carolina,” Shelly’s voice pipes in this time. “She will be here in the hour, so everyone greets her with the warmest of welcomes!” The AI beamed before she shut herself off, the overhead PA system going dead with it.

This now left Temple in the quietness of his room. Staring up at the empty ceiling. His arms falling to the side of him as he laid there. Trying to find the motivation to get himself out of his bed and go greet whoever this ‘Agent Carolina’ person was, anyway .

Why would they even send a Freelancer here,? Nothing here needed their assistance . In fact, that’s the point, nothing is ever going on here!

Once more, these are not questions Temple should think about with a headache and an empty stomach. There was no use prolonging the inevitable. It doesn’t mean that Temple has to like it, or that he won’t bitch and moan about it too. So, using up as much strength that he could, he flung the covers off of him and slip out of his bed.

Feet firmly planted on the floor as Temple pushed himself out off of his mattress. Glancing over at the pile of Cobalt armor that laid on the floor. Temple sighed, letting his head drop. He’ll change into his armor after breakfast. First things first, he needs to have said breakfast.

After a moment of rummaging around his small closet, that nestled in the far corner of his room. Temple found that dark blue sweatpants and a light gray tank top were the least objectionable clothing choice and called it a day .

Now that Temple was clothed and making himself look semi-decent, he made his way out of his room, walking down the hallway that led to the kitchen .

“What the hell is a freelancer being brought out here for?” The thought replayed in his mind, no matter how much he tried to push it back. Whatever the reason for it might be, he didn’t like it. Feeling like something bad might happen while they’re here.

It’s most likely his paranoia that’s making him feel that way. So he does his best to press down on the feeling and continue on with his morning like normal. While doing his best to lessen his hangover from the night before.

++

There wasn’t much that the Blue Team could do while they waited the hour for the freelancer showed up. Buckey was the one most agitated by this. His leg wouldn’t stop bouncing - shaking the entire breakfast table while Temple ate and Loco held his helmet in his lap as he polished it .

“Will you please stop shaking your leg?” Temple snapped at Buckey. It wasn’t normal for him to snap at his teammates like that. Yet with all the stress, everyone seems to be right now. It made an exception.

Buckey looked at Temple as he presses both of the hands down on his leg to keep it from moving. “Hey look, not my fault. I can’t sit silently while we wait,” Buckey replies.

Silence falls again. Temple finishing the rest of his meal, the fork clattering softly on the plate as he sets is down.

“What do you think they even want, anyway?” Buckey speaks up again, letting go of his leg. It has stopped bouncing for now.

“Shelly said it was for a game of capture the flag!” Loco said, placing his rag down on the table before slipping his helmet back on. His visor was all bright, catching in the light from overhead.

Bucky blinks a few times at that, at a complete loss of words. “Why are they sending a freelancer here to play, capture the flag?” He turns to look at Temple, hoping that he would have some sort of answer.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t have any clue,” Temple responses.

“ Maybe it’s some kind of trick, or experiment to try out new secret field equipment,” Buckey adds on, rubbing at his chin in thought .

“Or maybe they want to have fun!” Loco added on with no doubt a wide smile under his visor. Temple bites his tongue to stop himself from telling him on how stupid that was.

Do freelancers even know the meaning of fun? From what he’s heard, they are guns for hire who will do whatever it takes to get their job done. No matter who’s life gets taken in the crossfire of it.

A long stretch of silence falls upon the kitchen now. Buckey has gone back to bouncing his leg up and down, leaving a motion blur with it. Loco had stood up and collect the dishes from the table.

Before Temple could walk out of the room to return to his bedroom to change. The loud rumble of a Pelican’s engine roared louder and louder until the entire base was rattling by the vibration of the vehicle .

“Agent Carolina is here!” Shelly alerted them.

Great...