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Sometimes, Caboose felt cold.
The feeling began to settle in his heart not long after Church’s disappearance, when Wash took control of the team and stupid Tucker got moody and distant. Caboose had never felt as cold and lonely as he did without having Church to look up to.
But things got better! The Blue team grew, and Caboose made LOTS of friends, human and robot alike. He thought about them to push away the sad thoughts, and it worked. The feeling started to fade away gradually over time.
It came back in full force after Temple. For several nights, nothing he did would stop the cold. But then he told his friends about it, and they gave him a bath and hot chocolate and lots of hugs and cuddles, and the feeling miraculously went away again!
Wash and Carolina got a lot nicer -- nicer than Church and Tex had ever been, anyway. Sister was loud and fun and even though she tried to steal Caboose’s conditioner a lot, Caboose liked not being the only source of energy around.
Caboose thought for a few weeks that maybe the cold was going away for good. But one day, it returned in a different form. Not the inside cold he had spent so long struggling with; it was an outside cold, the kind he would wrap blankets over his skin to squash.
But the blankets weren’t working. His body continued to shiver relentlessly, even after piling four blankets on top of it, plus his sheets and comforter. It was too hot for his head under the mass of cushioning, so he stuck his head out from the top of the pile, feeling it burn with heat and pressure while the rest of his body was freezing.
He wanted to go out and tell Wash something was wrong, but it was too cold. His heart felt fine, but the rest of his body might freeze, and then what would he do? It was winter -- he wouldn’t be able to melt!
So he laid down in his bed, everything below his neck tucked into the blankets, his face red and sweaty and his mind running in circles, and waited. Waited for someone to notice. Waited for the cold to go away. Waited for his body to shut down, to welcome the comforting embrace of sleep.
None of that came to him. Minutes passed by in agony as he was unable to turn off his brain, unable to achieve any comfort, unable to hear even footsteps walking outside his door. He glanced at the clock, noting that not even an hour had passed of this terrible dullness.
Caboose realized he had to go. There had been days where no one bugged him in his room, where Wash left plates of food outside his door but never ventured inside, where he came out three days later with some exciting creation and Tucker hardly spared him a glance.
‘They’re not going to notice unless I find them first,’ Caboose thought determinedly, pushing the blankets off of his arms, and immediately shuddering from the absolute cold. ‘This is fine,’ he told himself, throwing off the rest of the covers and instinctively curling into a ball. It was just so cold, and the movement made black and silvery stars spread across his vision. He suddenly wasn’t sure if he could make it to Wash in time.
“Washingtub!” he called out, but his voice was too quiet, too shaky, to travel further than the hallway outside his room. He didn’t know if Wash was even inside the base. He didn’t know if anyone was.
Forcing one arm to curl around his stomach and the other to support himself against the wall, Caboose ventured out into the hallway with shaky steps.
“Wash!” he cried out again, but he was met with silence. Sighing, Caboose got to work traveling down the hallway, stabilizing himself with the wall because his head did not feel right. He tried to speed-walk without moving his hand from the wall, but when he heard the click of a door unlocking, he froze. Tucker peeked out into the hallway, an eyebrow raised.
“Caboose, Wash is out training with Carolina right now. If you send them in here early, I swear to God, I’m putting spiders in your conditioner.”
Caboose gasped. “No spiders!”
“Yeah. So go back to your room and you can call him later. I wanna actually finish this show before he tries to make me run laps again -- I’m only two away from the season finale!”
“Okay! But this might be an emergency!”
Tucker sighed. “Your definition of emergency probably means it’s a waste of time anyway.”
“I’m cold again!”
Tucker rolled his eyes. “Yeah. That’s not an emergency.”
“Stupid Tucker. This is why Wash is smart and you are not.” He continued down the hall, the shaking of his body not going unnoticed.
“Hey!” Tucker grabbed his arm, his eyes widened. “Shit. You’re cold.”
“I know!” Caboose exclaimed, waving his arms. “ That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! ” He nearly tripped, but Tucker supported him with a hand at his side.
“And you’ve tried blankets?” Tucker paused. “Or is... Is this… that kind of cold?”
“I have a cold!” Caboose replied, and Tucker let out a long, exaggerated sigh before begrudgingly wrapping his arms around Caboose, the latter quickly plunging himself into Tucker’s chest.
“Fuck. Why are you shaking so much?” Tucker murmured, feeling Caboose’s body trembling uncontrollably against him.
“This is nice,” Caboose stated, burrowing deeper into the hug for warmth. “But that’s not the cold I meant. I actually have, like, a real one now.”
Tucker took a second to process that. Then he threw Caboose and jumped three feet backwards. “Ack! Caboose germs! Shit!” He flapped his hands, as if to shake off the germs. “Now I have to go disinfect myself; thanks a lot.” He stormed off down the hall, screaming, “WASH! GET IN HERE!” before ducking into the bathroom.
There was a ten second delay before Wash stepped inside the base. “What’s wrong?” Wash asked, his eyes cautious but his body looking weary already, whether from training with Carolina or from the inevitable disappointment this interruption was going to be.
Carolina stepped into the doorway behind him, her eyes alert as they flashed back and forth. She listened for the sounds of movement and knocked on the bathroom door. “Tucker, what is it? You better not have run out of toilet paper or something equally stupid.”
“No, it wasn’t me! Caboose is sick. Go handle him.”
“He couldn’t just do that himself?” Carolina grumbled, but she and Wash were walking down the hallway already.
They found Caboose leaning against the wall with his arms squeezed around himself, his body pale and shaking. His eyes lit up when they came into sight.
“Oh! Friends! It is good to see you! I have a cold.”
“Like, an actual cold?” Carolina pressed, as Wash felt Caboose’s forehead with the back of his hand.
“Yep! Though if you wanted a hug, I would not decline a hug.”
“Maybe later.” Carolina knocked on the bathroom door. “Tucker, come on, I need a thermometer.” A few seconds later, it was flung out from under the door. She glared at the doorknob. “Tucker, you have five seconds to open the door and start thoroughly cleaning this thermometer before I decapitate your body pillow and then you.”
The door swung open so fast it slammed right into Tucker’s toe. He yelped and hopped on one foot while Carolina picked up the thermometer and thrust it into his face.
“He’s already sick. We’re not putting things that were on the floor into his mouth.”
“It’s not like he doesn’t do that every other day!” Tucker complained, but he begrudgingly started washing the thermometer.
“It doesn’t mean we should make an excuse out of it,” Wash mumbled, frowning at the heat coming from Caboose’s forehead, and the flush of his cheeks.
Once the thermometer was clean, Wash took Caboose’s temperature and winced at the number. “Just over 101. So he’s got a fever, he’s shaking -- Caboose, when did this start?”
“Oh, just a few hours ago.”
Carolina frowned. “With the intensity and abruptness, I’d say it’s more likely the flu than a cold.”
“Great!” Tucker threw his hands up in the air. “Just great. Time to quarantine.”
He started heading down the hall to his room, which was when he came across Kaikaina’s room. Her door was wide open, like usual, but what was new was the suitcase she was zipping up on the bedroom floor. Tucker could see clothes inside, as well as a ziploc bag of nail polish.
“Uh… Kai, what’re you doing?”
“I’m gonna go hang out at Red base before Caboose’s cold spreads, duh!” she exclaimed, before standing the suitcase up and pulling out the handle.
“You’re gonna get lost,” he said with a groan. “Gimme ten minutes and I’ll lead you there.”
“Hell no! You got all touchy-touchy with the blue giant; you might be infected already!” she replied.
“Don’t say it like that!” he complained. She shrugged and turned off her light.
“If I see you’ve touched a single thing in my room, I’m gonna burn off your balls!”
“Bow-chicka- oof!” He was cut off with a sharp knee to the gut. “Geez! What was that for?!”
“You make it too easy.” She stuck out her tongue at him, then flipped her hair and waltzed right out of the base.
Tucker sighed and pressed the button to turn on his headset. “Grif? Hey, Grif, you there? Answer your damn headset.” He paused and waited, but there was nothing. He pressed it again. “Come on, fatass, it’s about your sister.”
A few seconds later, there was a click on the other end of the line, and unsteady breathing made its way into his ear. “Tucker. What. The fuck.” His growl was lower than usual, pissed before he even heard the news.
“Your sister’s heading your way on her own. Might wanna go out and make sure she actually makes it there. Last time she walked around in circles and got lost on the wrong side of the canyon.”
“Shit! Goddamn it, Kai!” Tucker heard a low, almost muffled whine in the background, and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
“What was that? Did I catch you and Simmons in the middle of something?” he asked, his voice suggesting a very particular something.
“No,” Grif hissed, but now that Tucker had put the thought into words, he realized the labored breathing suggested he was on the right track.
“Oh, shit, was I right?”
“Shut. Up,” Grif growled. Yep, there was something a little too primal about that growl.
“Well, don’t let your sister keep you from getting laid!” Tucker said brightly. “I mean, I doubt she’ll get there anytime soon, so you’ve got plenty of time. Hey, Simmons, tell me, how big is Grif’s dick actually? I’m pretty sure he lied--”
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Tucker.”
“Save the fucks for your boyfriend, why don’t you?” There was definitely a sharp inhale in the background after that one, Tucker swore his (lack of) virginity on it.
“Fuck. You.” Then the connection cut off, and Tucker smiled smugly as he returned to his room to finish his show.
***
About an hour later, Caboose was sitting up in bed, bundled in warmer clothes and as many blankets as Wash would let him have. Carolina stood at the door with a notepad in her hands; Wash sat on a chair at Caboose’s side.
“Do you have any other symptoms? Runny nose, headaches, congestion, sore throat?”
“My head is like a drum!” Caboose said cheerfully.
Carolina jotted it down on the notepad. “Got it. Anything else?”
Caboose paused thoughtfully. “I don’t think so!”
Carolina nodded, her eyes landing on Wash. “I’m gonna go make a call to Doctor Grey, see where she thinks he might’ve gotten it, and if they can send us some supplies.”
“I’ll stay with him for a little bit,” Wash stated.
She gave him a knowing look. “Just a little bit, right? You’ll get some sleep yourself tonight?”
“ Yes, Carolina.”
She stared at him for an extra few seconds before rolling her eyes and exiting into the hallway. As if tagging her out, Tucker walked right into the room, a bowl of steaming noodle soup in his hands.
“Alright, this is all I’m doing for you,” he snarked. “I’m heading on watch.”
Wash raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yeah, oh. ” Tucker saluted. “I’m off. Don’t bother me.”
“Who does he think the leader is?” Wash mumbled, turning back to Caboose when he felt his hand squeeze.
“... Can I be the leader?” Caboose whisper-yelled, his eyes wide.
“Absolutely not.”
***
Tucker let out an exaggerated sigh as he stared off into space. He was tired of looking out at the same treeline, tired of squinting at the distant silhouette of Blue base. He hadn’t seen any movement from them, but that was about to be expected; Grif and Simmons were probably tuckered out from getting it on (bow-chicka-bow-wow), Donut was always in his room (he was practically confined there after the last time he tried decorating the base), and Sarge and Lopez did most of their work indoors with metal scraps they’d gathered from who-knows-where.
But being out here gave him a reason to avoid the Freelancers and their seemingly never-ending list of tasks. Every time he passed Wash in the hall, he had something new for him to do. It was so irritating! He just wanted some time to himself, to chill for a while without having to take orders from the people who hardly respected him. (A small part of him murmured that that wasn’t true, but he squashed it.)
It didn’t help that every time Wash looked at him, he saw that nauseating pity, like every time he laid eyes on him he remembered what there had once been -- how Tucker had already had a leader, how he didn’t need some fancy supersoldier replacement. He just wanted Church . He just wanted his old team.
He just wanted his son.
‘I wonder where Junior is right now,’ he mused. Probably in the middle of basketball practice. The kid worked himself too hard. He was so proud of him. He was much more talented than his old man.
‘Not that I don’t have my own perks,’ he boasted internally, thinking about his alien sword. ‘The ladies say I’ve got a nice sword beneath my belt.’ He allowed for a pause in his thoughts for an imaginary applause, then continued thinking up terrible pick-up lines.
***
Even that got old eventually, and Tucker found himself nodding off on the edge of the base. Not a good idea, even for him.
He pressed a button on his headset and tried listening in to the Reds for some sort of excitement. All he got was Sarge humming some 80’s rock song, followed by the Grif siblings (+ Simmons) bickering, per usual. Tucker threw in a joke at the PERFECT MOMENT and got immediately shut out of their channel. They must have been close enough to Sarge for him to hear the chaos, because soon he was closed off, too.
“Great. Now there’s only one option to ease my boredom. But do I want to stoop this low?” Tucker contemplated it for a second, then shrugged. “Oh well. Here we go.” He clicked the button. “Hey, Donut. What’s going on?”
“Oh, howdy there, Tucker! I’m just doing a binge of ‘Too Hot To Handle!’ You wanna come join me?”
“Uhhhh… I can’t, right now,” Tucker replied. “Kinda on duty.”
“Ahhh, I gotcha. Well, let me tell you what’s been goin’ on, then! Because, let me tell you, there’s a LOT of getting it on.”
Tucker cursed himself for getting into this one.
***
Two hours later, he almost did slip off the roof in his sleep.
‘Yep, nope, we’re done here. Guess I’m going inside.’ Tucker decided he’d just have to sneak past Wash and Carolina, wherever they were, and turned off his headset. He was hardly surprised to hear Donut’s voice still ranting up to the last moment.
Wash and Carolina were too busy to notice him as he passed by the bathroom, where they were huddled next to the medicine cabinet discussing something, Carolina with a phone to her ear. Tucker told himself he really didn’t care what they looked so distressed by, and slipped by them soundlessly, finding himself by the door to Caboose’s room. He hesitated for a moment. A peek couldn’t hurt, right? Just to see if there was anything he should care about.
His fingers curled around the doorknob, gently twisting it and pushing open the door just enough for his eyes to peek through. He fixed his attention on the bed, where a lump buried beneath four layers of blankets was somehow still visibly shaking.
‘Why is he still shaking so much?’
Tucker found himself approaching the bed before he could question his decision. Caboose was fully under the covers, only a small bit of dark curly hair visible at the top of the sheets. Tucker gently massaged his scalp, noticing the body’s shakes lessen in force, though they never quite stopped. Caboose didn’t say a word; he must have been halfway to sleep. A minute later, Tucker could hear his quiet, steady breaths and latched onto the sound for comfort.
He heard the footsteps leading to the bedroom door, and then absolute silence.
“What’s wrong with him,” he asked quietly, without turning to face them.
Wash and Carolina exchanged glances. “We don’t know for sure,” Carolina admitted. “We’re hoping it’ll pass within a week. If not… well, we might have problems.”
Tucker squeezed Caboose’s hand, left with no other choice but to hope for the best.