Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wash barely flinched as the bullet hit his neck. He simply collapsed. Something…no…someone was screaming. Ah. Awkward. He wondered why they were screaming. He was just taking a nap, right? Yeah, just a nap. “Stay with me.” A voice pleaded as his vision darkened. Absurdly, a laugh bubbled up, though it sounded nothing like a laugh should. “Nope.” He tried to say, but it didn’t come out, joining the laugh in the ‘disturbing noise’ category. Oh well, he’d talk to them tomorrow. 

The voice kept begging for Wash to stay awake, which was dumb. He was tired. Attempting to shake his head, although he was unable to move, for some reason, he let himself sleep.

Carolina stared down at her friend in horror. He was gone. He. Was. Fucking. Dead. Ignoring the protest of…well…everything, to be honest, she snatched the gun from Sarge’s hand, not giving a damn about his grunt of complaint, and charged. 

David was dead, and Temple was gonna fucking pay for it.

When he woke up, Wash instantly threw his hands to his neck, feeling for the bullet hole. What had he been thinking? What the hell happened? Why was he…wait a second. Where am I? Why does this place look like the Mother of Invention infirmary? Why am I alive? That bullet went right through his neck, out the other side. That should’ve killed him instantly. 

And there was no hole. 

<Well, of course there’s no hole, idiot. Also, stop talking about holes, you sound like Donut.> A voice said. Wash let out a rather undignified screech, head whipping around desperately to attempt to find the speaker. <Dude, chill. > The voice said. <Wash, it’s me!>

Church?

<The not quite one and only.>

“Hold on…Epsilon?”

“Bingo.” A small holographic figure appeared beside him. “You good?” 

Wash inhaled a deep breath, “So…let me get this straight. You died, then I got shot, and now we’re in the MOTHER OF INVENTION!? AND YOU’RE IN MY HEAD!?” His voice started calm, and ended higher-pitched than Donut.

“Shut up! They’re gonna think that you’ve gone insane.”

“Wouldn’t be an unfair assessment.” He commented under his breath as Epsilon vanished again.

<You realise I heard that, right?>

“Well, I did say it out loud.”

“Hey! You survived!”

A cheerful voice tore his attention away from the freaking holographic dead asshole that now lived rent-free in his head <Rude, also you were dead too, apparently.> to look at the door. Another dead man was standing there, grin on his face. “Great job rookie! What’s it like?” York asked, walking in.

“Ro–rookie?”

York frowned. “Uh…you alright? Should I call someone? Maybe the Couns–”
“NO!” Both Epsilon and Wash screamed at once, Epsilon reappearing. York didn’t seem deterred, however, coming and sitting down next to them. “Wow, that it?” He asked, removing his helmet, and Wash’s heart skipped a beat.

York still had both eyes. 

“Uh…York, help me out here.”

“Sure, with what?”

“What. The hell. Is going on?”

“Jeez, you sure you’re okay?”

“Just humour me.”

Frowning, he nodded. “Alright, so, the director somehow got another AI, not sure how, and he decided that you get it because…well, I don’t know, honestly. I was worried that it was because he thought that if it killed anyone, you’d be an acceptable loss. Now, are you sure you don’t nee–”
“Sounds about right for the asshole.” Epsilon commented dryly, Wash nodding along with him. “Where are the others?” Wash finally asked.

“Everyone is still on the ship, the Dakotas and Carolina are gonna go on their mission soon (though no one is meant to know that ‘Lina is coming along). I’m not kidding, I can call someone to check on you.”

“I’m fine.” He responded curtly, reaching to the nightstand to grab his helmet. “I guess I should get going now.”

Without waiting for a response, Wash got up and left, Epsilon waving at York as they went. The second they were alone, he exploded. <WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?>

“I’m sorry, you try time-travelling, then seeing two long dead friends for the first time in years, and act normal.”

<Oh my fucking God do you want the damn Director to know about this!? You can talk to me in your head.>

Oh…right. Well, what are we gonna do?

<I mean, stop hi–>

Not that, this! Wash gestured at himself. I mean, I can’t…I won’t…you can’t stay with me.

<Oh…is this abou–>

Yes! It’s about the time you installed ‘Trauma.exe’ into me. I can’t have an AI, Hell, I didn’t want any of them, let alone the AI that is quite literally responsible for everything that has happened to me!

<It wasn’t like I wanted to.>

I know, I know. I just…how are we gonna deal with this?

<I mean, we could go and as–> 

[That would be unwise.]

He physically jumped at the new “Ahh! What the Hell!? What’s Delta–”

“Shut up!”

Right, sorry. What’s Delta doing here?!

<You heard him?>

Oh yes, I wasn’t able to hear the voice screaming in my ear.

[I am sorry that I alarmed you. I am not the actual ‘Delta’, but rather a manifestation of him from Epsilon's memories.]

You mean…you have an imaginary friend!?

Wash choked out a laugh, appreciating the distraction. You and Caboose are more similar than I thought. 

<Don’t even joke about that.>

“So…I guess we’ve gotta go talk to people, stop them from thinking something’s wrong.”
Epsilon reappeared at his side. “You sure you’re up to it?”

Wash knew he couldn’t hide forever, it was quite hard to do in a confined space like a ship, and it’s normally better to face your fears, though that was just what they said in therapy.

When he said he’d face his fears, Wash didn’t realise that it would be that fear absolutely immediately. Seconds after deciding to go see the others, he ran into the Meta, quite literally as well, stumbling over. That didn’t help the awkwardness at all. 

“Uhh…hi?” Epsilon said, voice wavering slightly. He’s not got Sigma. He’s not got Sigma. “Hey…Maine.” Wash said, attempting to force himself to remember that the man in front of him was his friend, not the power-hungry, barely human maniac he’d met previously. Maine leaned down to offer him a hand, which Wash accepted tentatively.

“Cool.” Maine grunted, nodding towards Epsilon. Oh God, he’s gonna steal you and make you part of the Meta and–

“You gonna introduce us, or what?” The AI asked, cutting through the panic.

“Oh…right. Maine, Epsilon.”

“It alright?” Maine asked.

“What, getting an AI?”

He nodded.

“It sucked.” 

Epsilon folded his arms. “Rude.”

Play along, I don’t want him getting one.

<Oh right, sorry.>

“Rude, but true. Wasn’t much fun for either of us. Getting shoved into someone else’s head sucks. 0/10, would not recommend.” He quickly attempted to fix the situation.

Maine nodded along, but didn’t seem convinced. 

“So…uh…next mission sounds interesting…huh?”

“Not had briefing.”

“Oh…right.”

Well, that’s awkward. “Maybe they sent me the orders in advance, I dunno.”

“Yeah.” Epsilon interjected. “I mean, it makes sense. We’re still adapting to this , to be fair.”

Maine shrugged, before waving over in the general direction of their shared quarters. “I’ll be right there, just gotta go to the training room quick.” Wash assured him. Maine nodded, walking off.

<Training room?>

We’re probably gonna be stuck like this for a while. Besides, if I act like it was you that made me a better fighter, they’ll all be less suspicious.

<Makes sense.>

Also, I’ve had an idea on how to deal with this.

<What do you have in mind?>

When Maine loses his voice, I’ll give you to him.

<ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE!?>

It’s safer, it prevents the Meta from ever happening, and it…gets you out. No offence.

<Yeah, but…why? We’d be better together, and what if he finds out about…all that?>

If something tries to kill itself in your head, would you want it to stay?

<Well–> 

THERE’S NO ‘WELL’ ABOUT IT EPSILON!

<Dude! Calm down!>

CALM DOWN!? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN CALM DOWN!?

<What’s your problem?>

YOU’RE MY PROBLEM! I DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOU, ‘CHURCH’, BUT WHEN SOMEONE FUCKING TRAMATISES YOU AND MAKES YOU A MONSTER, THE LAST THING YOU WANT IS THEM BACK IN YOUR LIFE, LET ALONE IN YOUR GODDAMN BRAIN!

When Epsilon didn’t respond, Wash winced. Maybe he had gone too far. “Epsilon?” Nothing. Church? “I’m…I’m sorry, alright.”

I’m just scared. I mean, we’re on a ship with our worst enemies right now, and the only people that even have a slight chance of believing us are millions of miles away. And…having you back isn’t giving me the best memories, but I promise I won’t let that get in the way of us saving them all. I’ll…I’ll adjust. I just didn’t think that you’d want to be in…here, either.

He sighed. “When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be there.”

When he finally reached the training room, Wash was more than ready to beat the crap outta someone. That someone happened to be North, who’d been leaning against the wall of the observation deck, deep in thought. He startled when Wash walked over. “Hey! You’re alive!” He exclaimed, turning to face him. 

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Wash whined, somehow returning to his old habits almost instantly. North frowned. “Just…a rumour.”

“South?”

“South.” He confirmed. Yep. Still no regrets killing her. 

“So…wanna spar?”

“Are…uh…you sure that’s a great idea? Just having come out of brain surgery and…well…y’know.”

“Y’know?”

“You could…um…never beat me before and it…uh…looks like you don’t have your AI on, so…”

“Just do it, North.” Wash snapped. North flinched backwards, obviously unused to that tone from him. “Okay, jeez. If you’re sure.”

The pair headed down to the training floor, making idle conversation as they went.

“You sure about this?” 

Nodding, Wash squared up, shooting a glance at the board. It read ‘North Dakota - 0, Washington - 0’.

North began by charging, aiming a kick at Wash’s ribs. He easily sidestepped, grabbing his foot as he spiralled past, and throwing him towards the wall. North landed on his feet, with a stumble, to be fair, and clumsily turned, raising his fists again. He paced wearily. “Wow. You’ve…are you Carolina wearing Wash’s armour?”

Stifling an annoyed groan, Wash simply threw off his helmet, letting it skid across the floor. North stared at it in shock. Grinning at the distraction, Wash launched himself at North, managing to get a solid hit on his helmet. As North buckled, he tried to kick at Wash’s leg and trip him up too. It failed miserably, not just missing, but throwing him even more off balance, and causing him to collapse.

“Point one - Washington.” FILSS’ automated voice rang out. “You got lucky.” North laughed, forcing himself back up to his feet. “Sure.” Wash shrugged, grabbing his helmet back up. “You convinced I’m not someone else in disguise, or should I keep it off?”

“Eh, put it back on, I guess. I mean, you’re going down now.”

Again, Wash nodded, shoving it on. 

“Round two.” 

This time, Wash made the first move, feinting to the left, then getting a good punch to his chest. North reached out an arm to pull him over, but Wash grabbed his wrist, yanking it off of his own. North made a small sound of surprise as he was pulled over Wash’s shoulder, landing flat on his back.

“Point two - Washington.”

The next five rounds went much the same, North losing every single time. For what felt like the millionth time, Wash offered his hand to help him up. “Huh. Looks like we have an audience.” He commented, nodding pointedly upwards at the observation deck. Ignoring the slow sinking feeling, Wash glanced upwards. South, Carolina, CT, Maine and York were all staring down at the floor, shock obvious even through the helmets. 

“Alright, up to ten?” He asked. North sighed. “Three more rounds of getting my ass kicked? Fine.”

The rest of the rounds were just as embarrassing for North as the others. Once they were done, Wash laughed and helped North up, yet again. “Alright, this has been fun.” He said. “You’d probably better get ready for your mission.” He pointed out, before turning to leave.

North grinned, calling out “By the way, you have to teach me how to do that.” Fighting back a smile, Wash nodded.

He went back through some of the old service tunnels, in an attempt to avoid all the others who would inevitably want answers. As Wash went, he kept trying to make conversation with Epsilon. “That fight fun?” 

<I guess.>

Wash let out a surprised yelp. “Church! Oh thank God. I’m so–”

<If you say sorry, I’m gonna go back to sulking.>

I…uh…wasn’t gonna–

<You literally physically can’t lie to me, dumbass.>

Yeah…right. Why don’t you want me to apologise, I was being a dick.

<Yeah, but so was I, to be fair. I mean, you had a reason for it. And–Behind you!>

Wash turned, hand reaching for his gun, but too late. The sound of a pistol cocking rang out. “Alright, drop your weapons.” CT snarled. Wash flinched. “Connie? What are you–”

“Drop. Them.”

Nodding, he placed down his battle rifle. Then his pistol. Then his grenade. Then (off of Connie’s glare) two more grenades. Then his collection of four throwing knives. Then his huge knife that he literally never used. “You finished?” She asked, frowning down at the steadily growing pile of weapons. “Not quite.” Wash responded, tossing out yet another few knives and grenades. “Okay, done.” 

CT had her helmet on, but Wash could sense the exasperated almost fondness on her face. “Pull the AI.” She ordered. Ah. That could be a problem.

<Ya think?>

{I thought you two were friends!}

I know, Theta.

“I can’t.”

“I think It ’s controlling you, Wash. Now pull It .”

“Why would you–the fight.” He realised midway through his sentence. “I was fighting better, so you’re suspicious.”
“You were acting…odd.” Connie muttered. “We could hear everything you said and…it’s not you.”

We have to tell her.

<Yeah. She’s probably gonna think you’re insane, though.>

|If we can plug into a terminal, we may be able to show her.|

<Shut up, Sigma.>

He does have a point.

<I know. I just hate him.>

“Uh…Wash?”

“Right. Sorry, just talking to him. We’ve…uh, got something to tell you, but you’re gonna have to trust me, like you never have before.”

Connie shook her head. “How do I even know that it’s you talking?”

“Can you cast to that monitor?” Wash asked Epsilon, pointing to it. He nodded. “Yep.” Almost instantly, the TV started to flicker. “Okay, good.” 

“I still don’t trust you.” CT warned. He sighed. “I know. But please, just hear us out.”

“What should I play?” Epsilon asked. “Uh…anything that’ll explain all…this.” 

The screen started playing something Wash remembered, but wished he didn’t. The day he fought Tex with Mai–the Meta. The day he’d joined the blues. The day Church almost died…again.

“What the–” Connie cut off, stepping towards the screen. “Is that Maine? Who’s the other person? What the fuck?”

The scene fast-forwarded to when Wash finally decided to go and do the right thing, jumping at the Meta and letting Epsilon run. He’d never seen it from the AI’s perspective before, and quite honestly, it was terrifying.

The screen flickered out, before coming back with another scene, Felix and Locus’ monologue, before Carolina revealed herself and saved them all. Connie flinched at the Freelancer’s voice. “What…”

When Epsilon was done, Connie rounded on them. “What the fuck was that!?” She demanded, raising her gun at Wash’s face again. He sighed. “Connie, I know this’ll sound insane, but we’re from the future.”

Chapter Text

For a moment, she was silent. Then she started laughing, which was a hell of a lot worse than the silence. “Connie–” Wash tried. “You’ve gone fucking mental.” She said, pulling off her helmet to wipe very real tears out of her eyes. 

“Connie, I’m not insane.”

“Well then, if you’re ‘from the future’,” She made air quotes around it, which did sting a bit. “Then tell me something that will happen.”

“Uh…you think people calling you Connie makes you sound like a kid, and want to be called CT.”

Frowning, she put her hands on her hips. “Yeah, no. That’s not enough. Tell me something that’ll happen soon.”

<Tell her about Tex.>

“The person me and Maine were fighting is a freelancer who will join up after our next mission. Her name will be Texas, and she’ll beat Maine, Wyoming and York in a training exercise. Maine and Wyoming will use live ammo for the last round, and York will try to help her. He loses an eye.”

Connie sighed. “That doesn’t sound like something you’d make up, I’ll admit. Maybe Wyoming using live rounds, but you’d never–”

“Never blame Maine. I know.”

“Alright, I’m gonna trust you…for now. But if you’re proven wrong…”

“You’ll…?”

“Uh…not trust you?”

“Fair enough.”

CT began laughing. “You gave up so easily! What would you’ve done if I’d’ve shot you?”

“Oh…I wouldn’t worry about it. I had another knife.”

“WHAT!?”

“It was quite honestly the worst murder attempt ever. Of all time.”

With a sigh, he collapsed, face first, on his bunk. “This is your room?” Epsilon asked, appearing beside him. “It sucks.”

“Yep.” Wash responded, slightly muffled by the pillow.

“How do you live like this?”

The groan he gave in response probably just about summed it up.

The door opened with a satisfying ‘shvwoom’ noise. “Hello, Agent Washington.” The horribly calm voice of the Counselor cut through the peace like a knife as Wash fought up to his feet. “Sir.” He said with poorly disguised contempt. Epsilon raised himself to Wash’s shoulder, saluting. “Sir.” He also said, voice just as strained. 

“Have you noticed any adverse effects with your new AI?”

“No sir.”

“I have heard reports of your…behaviour.”

“My behaviour, sir?”

“Yes, apparently, you have been acting differently since the implantation.”

“Having someone else in your brain does that…sir.” He added as an afterthought. Ugh. He sucks.

<I know, right?>

(Just kill him.)

<SHUT UP, OMEGA!>

“That was all I wanted to know.” 

Weird. He’d normally stay longer.

As the Counselor left, Maine walked in, flinching slightly as he saw the Counselor. “Hello, Agent Maine.” He simply said, Maine nodding respectfully at him before barging past. “You good?” He asked once he was gone.

Wash nodded awkwardly, before climbing back onto his bunk. 

One important thing to know about Maine was that he rarely spoke. He only talked either when he really needed to, or when superiors were around. Surprising absolutely no one, the Director wasn’t too accommodating, forcing him to speak around the ship. When they were in their shared rooms, however, nothing could stop him from just picking up a pad and paper when needed.

Another thing to know is that Maine can be a snarky bitch.

He went and sat down on his own bunk (the bottom one, obviously), and began frantically scrawling on the paper and sticking it up so Wash could see. ‘You doping now?’

“What!? No!”

Maine lowered his pad for a couple of seconds, before lifting it again. ‘You sure?’

Wash sighed. “No Maine, I’m not doing drugs.”

‘Well how did you get so good then? It’s not skill.’

“Rude, and also, what if I told you I just got better?”

‘I’d call you a liar.’

He stopped for a moment, and Wash could sense the levity leave the room. ‘You’ve been acting differently around me.’ Maine finally wrote. ‘Since you got the AI. Why?’

Great. Just fucking perfect. Oh god Epsilon help, I’m so screwed.

<Well, we could either {Tell him the truth}, [Just say you don’t want to talk about it] or (Kill hi–) Nope, just one of the first two.> 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

There was a horrible pause. ‘Did I do something that hurt/offended you?’

Wash winced. That wasn’t…great. “No, you didn’t.” Not yet.

‘If you wanna talk about it, let me know.’

That could’ve gone better.

<Could’ve gone worse too.>

Yeah…I know. What if he tries to take you while we sleep?

<Don’t you want me gone?>

I…uh…I wouldn’t want–

Church laughed slightly. <Yeah, to be fair, I don’t wanna be a part of the Meta either. Luckily Sigma doesn’t exist yet.>

|I mean–|

<Doesn’t. Exist.>

The next morning, Wash woke up to a note from Maine, simply reading ‘Briefing room, 0900, Director’s not there, so bring snacks.’

“Looks like nothing’s changed.” He commented dryly, pulling on his helmet. Epsilon appeared beside him. “Morning! Where the hell are we gonna get snacks?” He asked, going straight to ‘business’ (if you can call gathering food business)

Wash grinned. “I know someone. Someone on the inside.”

“No. Absolutely not.” 

Crap.

“C’mon, Mindy, please.”

“Last time I did this, I was almost fired.”

“But…we need food.”

“Yeah, actual approved food.”

Wash groaned. That wasn’t going…too well. Miranda (or Mindy) was the head chef on the Mother of Invention, and one of the few non-Freelancer personnel that actually sympathised with the lackluster diet that the Director ensured all agents were on. 

“Please. I’ll–”

He winced. Not figuring out a bargaining chip probably wasn’t the greatest idea. <Volunteer to go one on one against any of the other Freelancers.>

“I’ll fight, one v one, against another Freelancer. You choose.”

Mindy went quiet for a minute, before finally nodding. “Fine, but you’re against Carolina.” 

Shit.

“Alright. Worth it.”

The second they were out the door, Epsilon reappeared. “And you say you’re friends?” He asked, folding his arms. “I said I knew someone. I never said ‘friends’. I was very careful about that. Anyway, we have food now.”

<You realise you’re gonna have to lose to Carolina, right?>

Wouldn’t that be a bit suspicious though? I suddenly gain incredible fighting powers, only to lose them when up against Carolina, and then I regain them afterwards.

<Fair enough. But I wouldn’t call your skill incredible. Decent, at best.>

[That is not tru–]

<Shut up, Delta!>

\He thinks you’re a horrible fighter.\

<Thanks–Oh for fuck’s sake, Gamma.>

\Knock, kno–\

<Nope, goodbye!>

Stifling a laugh, Wash began heading down to the briefing room, backpack stuffed full of contraband. 

It was ironically the most dangerous thing he’d done so far.

“Okay guys, I have chocolate!” Was the first thing he said upon entering the room. Instantly, York, Connie and Maine’s heads whipped towards him. “Chocolate?” York asked, almost reverently. “How the heck did you manage that?” 

“By agreeing to fight Carolina for the crew’s entertainment.”

Maine grabbed his pad again. ‘Drugs would help.’

“Maine, stop with that.” Wash complained. “I’m not doing drugs! I swear.”

Epsilon appeared beside him. “Yeah, trust me, I wouldn’t let him. Besides, if chocolate is rare here, I can only imagine how hard to smuggle that in would be.”

“Hey!” York said suddenly. “Can’t your buddy help us get some more chocolate?”

Wash shook his head. “Yeah, no. Epsilon’s useless.”

“Rude!”

“Yeah, if he can’t get us chocolate, then he is useless.” Connie chimed in, to assist in the AI bullying.

Epsilon moved as much as he could towards Maine. “C’mon man, you’ve gotta agree with me.”

Without missing a beat, Maine lifted up his pad to reveal the words ‘Chocolate or nothing.’

Epsilon then proceeded to collapse to the floor dramatically, wailing “No! Maine! I trusted you!” Causing all the Freelancers to burst into laughter. He finally reappeared beside Wash. “Your friends are all assholes.”

“It’s a wonder you don’t get along, having so much in common and all.”

He groaned. “You suck.”

Wash handed out snacks before sitting down beside the others. “Alright, so, the mission?” He asked, ripping open a bar of white chocolate. Maine frowned. ‘I thought you knew about it.’ 

“I mean, I do, but–”

“Might as well just let York do his thing.” Connie intercepted, ignoring Wash’s grateful smile. “Don’t want to steal his thunder and all. We all know how much of a whiny bitch he is when he gets interrupted.”

“Hey!” York complained. “Am not!”

“Whining again.” Epsilon laughed, deciding that now that he wasn’t the target, a bit of bullying was fun. “Typical.”

“Can we just start?” York sighed, still shaking his head.

“Fine.”

York began explaining the plan, Wash tuning out (unsurprisingly) as he’d listened to it all before. Connie guarded the door, with Wash and Maine taking both the corridors, while York tapped into the console, got the data, and then ran. 

Last time, Connie didn’t notice someone walking through the door until he’d seen York. By then, the data was only half downloaded, but they had to evac anyway. 

Halfway through York’s (completely unnecessary) explanation on how great his lockpicking skills are (not that lockpicking was even a part of the mission), Wash did something kinda…dumb.

He began choking on some chocolate. 

Yeah, dumb.

Epsilon let out an unholy screech, waving his hands frantically as he yelled pure gibberish. Both Connie and Maine jumped upright to help, while York fell backwards from his laughter. Wash managed to swallow it, before turning a glare onto York. “Really?” He asked, folding his arms.

York fought desperately (and failed) to regain his composure. “Yea–yeah…sorry. I just–there’ve been rumours ab–about you, sec–secretly being a badass, and…after yesterday, I was kinda believing it, but now?”

“Yes, yes, I’m a moron, trust me, Epsilon is already giving me hell for it. Can we move on please?” 

With another laugh, York nodded, sitting back down on his chair.

<Idiot.>

Don’t worry about it. I meant to do that.

<You’re just saying it to save face.>

No, actually. York, Maine and probably North are the three most likely people to notice something wrong, so by being an idiot in front of them…

Epsilon let out a small gasp. <Brilliant! They’ll be less suspicious.>

Yep. Now, later, we’re gonna have to go skateboarding across the halls of the ship.

<...What. The. Fuck.>

He realised that they were all staring. “What?”

“Um…York asked you a question.” Connie said awkwardly.

“Right…sorry, just Epsilon being a jackass. Go ahead.”

York cleared his throat, obviously trying to force back laughter. “I was just gonna ask what post you wanted.”

“South hallway.” Wash said instantly. Easier to keep it the same as before.

“Okay then.”

<Really?>

Yeah, well, I want this part to be as easy as possible.

<I meant the ‘jackass’ comment. So rude.>

I mean, you started that conversation by calling me an idiot.

<Yeah, but I ended it by complimenting you.>

No you didn’t! You ended it by insulting my skating habits!

<Okay, yep, that sounds a lot more like me.>

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Blinking rapidly, Wash realised that all the others had left. “You need to stop zoning out like that.” York said. “It’s kinda freaky.”

“Yeah…right.”

The mission went the exact same way as before. Connie didn’t notice the guard,  and they were caught. Wash found her staring at the leaderboard. “Hey Connie…I know that you blame yourself.”

“Ho–right, the future .”

“Yeah. It wasn’t your fault. I should’ve–”

“It doesn’t matter, Wash. None of this,” She gestured towards the leaderboard, “Matters. Not anymore. There’s a fucking line being drawn between us, and it’s getting pretty goddamn clear what side I’m on.”

“No one thinks like that, the others–”

“I’m not talking about them . I’m talking about him . The Director.”

“The Director’s a–”

“Don’t you dare defend him.”

“I wasn’t going to. I hate him just as much as you do. Probably even more. Do you want to know why I’m here, why I’m doing all this?”

“Why we’re doing this.” Epsilon interrupted. Wash nodded. “Yeah, Epsilon’s in on it too.”

Connie laughed. “That…thing can’t disobey his creator. That’s not how it fucking works. He has you fooled. You’re gonna make one wrong step, and you’ll be deemed a traitor.”

“We want to kill him.” Wash interrupted. “Epsilon’s been through just as much, if not more, shit from that monster as me. He’s got to pay for what he’s done.”

“The Counselor too.” Epsilon interrupted. Why? He never did anything to you.

<I know the shit he’s put you through. Neither of them are getting away with it.>

“You just need to trust us.”

<Hey Wash, the others are almost definitely suspicious of us. I mean, seriously. I’m pretty sure they’re considering holding us captive until we tell them what’s going on.>

What’re we gonna do then?

<I mean…what did you normally do that’s dumb and childish?>

…You’re not gonna like it?

<I think I’ll be fine.>

Okay, but don’t scream, alright?

<I’m not a baby, I’ll be fine.>

Epsilon screeched as they flew down the halls of the ship. “WHY DO YOU DO THIS!?” He yelled, too freaked out to even bother to hide. “WHY WERE YOU LIKE THIS!?!” Wash let out a laugh, managing to do a fairly decent jump over a control panel. He’d forgotten how great skateboarding was. “Because it’s fun!” He called back to the AI. “C’mon, you can’t tell me you aren’t enjoying this!”

“I. AM. NOT. ENJOYING. THIS.” He screamed in response, form travelling at the exact same speed as Wash himself. “WHY!? WHY MUST YOU TORTURE ME!?” 

Not bothering to hide his pure enjoyment in Epsilon’s fear, Wash laughed again. “Rich, coming from you.” He snarked. “...I’m kidding, obviously.” Hastily backtracking, Wash realised the AI didn’t respond. “R–right.” Epsilon said. “Okay.”

“Sorry.”

He then proceeded to successfully pull off a flip, as an apology. Epsilon proceeded to continue his demonic screaming, but a hell of a lot louder. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT!?” He demanded, voice deepening as he flickered into Omega’s form for a moment. Epsilon no! Wash desperately thought. <Sorry! I can’t control it!>

Look!

Standing in front of them was the Counselor, a look of pure disappointment obvious on his face as he scrawled something on his notepad. North and South were also halfway down the corridor, South looking like she wanted to die, and North clearly wondering if he should be cheering Wash on or not.

With a grin, he jumped fully over the Counselor, and if both he and Epsilon flipped him off midair, well, that wasn’t anyone else’s problem. 

“What was the point of that?” Epsilon whined as Wash stuffed the skateboard back in his locker. Wash laughed. Partially to stop people from suspecting us.

<And the other part?>

For fun, obviously.

<You’re the worst.>

He chuckled again, shutting his locker. “Jeez, that’s a lot of cat pictures.” Epsilon butted in. “Didn’t realise you liked them.”

“Well, it’s kinda hard to get a cat in outer space, Epsilon.” Wash responded dryly. <Yeah, but you never mentioned it afterwards, either.>

Ah yes, because a civil war is the perfect time to adopt a pet.

“Asshole.”

“Hey Wash!” North’s voice cut through their half-verbal argument. “The Hell was that?” He didn’t sound…accusatory, exactly. 

“What was what?”
“You gave the Counselor the middle finger. And so did your AI.”

“...oh.” What’re we gonna do?

<Run away?>

I’m not kidding!

<Neither am I!>

[I would recommend–]

{Tell him the truth}

[I would not recommend that. I believe you should tell him that the Counselor ‘Is just an asshole’]

WHY CAN HE MIMIC MY VOICE!?

“Uh…the Counselor is just an asshole.”
“Yeah, I hear you. Still probably shouldn’t do that though.”

“I know, it’s just,” He sighed. I really want to tell him. 

<Don’t, you idiot!>

Fine.

“Nothing, never mind.”

“Look, I’m just worried, alright? You’ve been acting odd, and I know that the AI have side effects, so I just want to know what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing North.”

“Wash–”
“North, you’re not my dad, or older brother, or anything like that. Hell, with the way you all talk to me, I’d be surprised if we were even friends! You're all a load of fucking assholes, who don't need to know what I'm doing every minute of every day. So. Leave. It. Alone.”

Wash winced at the hurt expression on North’s face. To be fair, he was pretty much the punching bag in Freelancer, and had been wanting to say something for years. It just wasn’t meant to come out like…that.

“North, I–”

“No, you’re right. I…I’ll talk to the others. See you later.” With that he walked off. Shit.

<Shit indeed. We’re absolutely fucked.>

North looked between the members of Alpha squad. “Alright everyone, meeting time.” He sighed. They all shared a look. “What did you do?” Carolina groaned, barely looking up from her datapad.

“I…I don’t know.” He admitted awkwardly. “Then what’s the meeting about?” York responded, frowning at him.

North sighed. “Look, how many of you have actually had a proper conversation with Wash since he got the AI. And I’m talking: Longer than one minute, he didn’t insult you, and he didn’t run away at the end.”

Silence.

“Okay. How many people here have actually talked to him at all?”

CT, Maine and York all raised a hand.

North looked at all three of them. “He’s been acting…odd, hasn’t he?”

Both Maine and York nodded, but CT didn’t look so sure. “I mean, we were told that the AI would have side effects. Plus, he’s seemed mostly normal to me.”

York shot her an incredulous stare. “CT, what the fuck? Don’t you remember the briefing?”

“You mean him insulting Epsilon and getting us all to join in? Then choking on chocolate?”

“...yeah?”

“York, I don’t know what universe you live in, but that’s pretty average Wash.”

North decided to butt in before it could escalate. “Maine? You notice anything?”

Maine frowned, grabbing his pad and beginning to frantically scrawl on it. After what felt like hours, he lifted it back up.

‘He’s scared of me. Any time I come close, he flinches. When I asked him about it, he just said he didn’t want to talk about it. I’m getting worried.’

“That’s…not great.” 

“Ya think, dickhead?” South finally spoke up. “Either the rookie’s finally grown some balls, or that fucking AI has fucked him up.” The others all nodded in agreement. “I’ve…I’ve spoken to him multiple times since, and he’s seemed off every time. For starters, there’s that fighting thing. Where the fuck did that come from? Also, I caught him flipping off the freaking Counselor. Both him and the AI. Then, when I asked him about it, he got all defensive. Then he brought up the constant teasing.”

“What about it?” York asked.

“He doesn’t think we even like him. Any of us.”

“What!?” Pretty much everyone asked in unison. Even CT looked concerned. 

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” CT said instantly, standing up. She pulled her helmet on and left the room before anyone could stop her.

Once the door was fully closed, York leaned over to North. “CT keeps covering for him. I think whatever’s going on, she’s in on it.” He whispered, quiet enough that none of the others heard. North nodded. “Thanks.” He responded, before turning back to the group. “Alright, so, I think we should keep our eyes on him, just in case. Meeting…uh…ended. Bye.”

Chapter Text

Connie burst into Wash’s room, where he’d been hiding since the North incident. “What happened?” She asked, leaning against the doorframe. “I fucked up.” He simply responded. <Yeah. You don’t say.>

“Why’re you acting so odd around everyone? I mean, Maine said you’re scared of him. You keep getting mad at North. You flipped off the Counselor. What the fuck happens in the future?”

Wash chuckled mirthlessly. “I didn’t think you believed me.” Connie walked over to sit next to him on the bunk. “That was before… this .” She waved at him. “I’ve never, never, seen you act like this . Something really messed you up.”

For a moment, he said nothing, before sighing and looking away from her. “North promised me he’d come back for me.”

“What?”

“The ship crashed. Epsilon fucked me up, and I was stuck in the medbay. North came in while it was going down. I couldn’t walk. He took one look at me and said ‘I’ve gotta go do something, but I’ll come back for you, I promise.’ He left me to die.” He laughed bitterly. “He left me to the mercy of the Director, and the–the Counselor.”

He paused, Epsilon nudging him encouragingly to carry on. <C’mon. You’ve nearly done it. Once it’s out, you’ll feel better.> “Maine’s AI, Sigma, was obsessed with the goal of reuniting all the other AIs. He basically took over Maine, it just…it wasn’t him . We called it the Meta. I was in charge of hunting it down.

I found the original AI, the one the others were all…taken from. I convinced him to help. He died, due to an EMP, but so did all the Meta’s AI. That was when I met the reds and blues.”

Connie held up a hand. “Wait a minute, ‘the reds and blues’? Are those…sim troopers? Also, where are the rest of us?”

“One - Yeah, they are. Probably the dumbest ones I’ve ever met, too. Two - North was killed by the Meta; York was killed by Wyoming; Wyoming was stabbed by Tucker–”
“Tucker?”

“One of the blues.”
“How the–”
“Don’t ask. Trust me, you don’t wanna know. Florida died of an aspirin overdose; Carolina faked her death and went into hiding; South shot me in the back, so I shot her in the face; Tex got into a ship that blew up, then was EMPed, then got cloned and the clone was stabbed in the face by the Meta; and you…you figured out everything that went wrong. You died shortly after escaping the project.”

Connie frowned at him. “And you? Did you…y’know?”

Do you want me to talk about what happened to you?

<If that’s okay.>

“Yeah. Epsilon first, h–he split himself apart, deleted himself, to save the reds and blues, to bring down Hardgrove.”

“Hardgrove…he’s the good guy, Wash.”

Epsilon finally decided to chip in. “Yeah, I’m fucking sure the ‘good guy’,” He made air quotes, “Would put a planet into fucking civil war in an attempt to clear out the inhabitants. I died to bring that motherfucker down, CT. He’s not a hero.”

“Yeah. Hardgrove is a bastard.”

She sighed. “Okay. What about you? How did you die?”

Wash flinched slightly. “I…I got captured by a guy named Temple. Carolina accidentally killed his best friend, so he swore to get revenge. The reds and blues had the misfortune of coming across him, and he…he lied to them. He told them the UNSC had the Alpha, alive and in captivity. By the time me and Carolina arrived, they all trusted him. He took us into a room with–he had a remote that could lock up armour. He’d done it to–sorry…this is hard.”

Wincing, Wash wiped his eyes. Why is it so hard!? I just want to talk about how I was tortured and died!

<Dude…that’s hard for a reason. Look, I can take over if you want.>

You weren’t even there.

<R–right. I’ll…you can do it. Just remember that I’m here, alright?>
Thanks, Church.

“Sorry, sorry.”
“You’re alright.” Connie said, putting an arm around him. Drawing in a breath, Wash continued. “He left us in that room for…a while, I think. By the time we got out, I wasn’t…I was pretty much insane. I was hallucinating, and…I walked into fire. Got shot in the neck.”

“O–oh.” Epsilon said. “That’s…why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew.”

“I was dead!? How the fuck would I know!?”

“...by looking at my memories?”
“I’m not a psychopath! Your memories are yours for a reason!”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Connie interrupted. “The AI time travelled too?”

“Oh, yeah!” Wash realised. “How does that even make sense?” 

They both turned to Epsilon, who shrugged. “How am I supposed to know? This time travel shit is confusing for me too. I just kinda woke up here.”

“So, what happened before all…that?”

North walked towards Wash’s room, hesitating outside the door. He didn’t mean to pry, but as he approached, he heard a…strange conversation, to say the least.

“And then I pointed a gun at her.”
“Seriously? You pulled a gun out on the fucking lead Freelancer. To save some sim troopers.”
“What can I say, I owed them.”
“Besides, you were pretty much one of us at that point.”
“I mean, fair enough, he had your armour…and was leading the blues.”

“Yeah, and they didn’t deserve to be threatened like that. I probably would’ve helped them regardless.”

…what!?

“That’s not even the coolest thing, we saved a goddamn planet.”
“Epsilon…you died to save it. I think you get all the credit for Chorus.”
“Bullshit, dude. You were the one that trained them all.”

“How long after Freelancer’s collapse even was this?”

“I’m sorry…what!?” North asked, eyes widening as he walked in. Wash and CT shared a look of fear and slight…annoyance. Epsilon disappeared for a second before popping back up in front of North’s face. “How much did you hear?” He asked, folding his arms with an annoyed sigh. “...how much would make you not…uh–kill me?”

Wash groaned. “Great. Now we’ve gotta go through all that again!” He cried, throwing up his hands in exasperation. Epsilon shook his head. “Nah, I’ll just send him the files.”

North watched in confusion as his HUD blinked with a message that read ‘Files shared - Red vs Blue’.

“What?”

“Okay.” Wash sighed. “Epsilon and I are from the future, blah, blah, blah. Just watch the goddamn videos. They’ll explain everything. Bye.”

He then grabbed North by his shoulder, and shoved him out the door, shutting it behind him. 

“Well,” North muttered to himself, still slightly dazed from the quick change of events. “I guess I have some videos to watch.”

The next day, Wash walked out to the entrance of the training room. Today’s the day. We’ve gotta try and help York.

<Right. What’s your plan?>

Tell Maine and Wyoming to not.

<Great. Just great.>

[This won’t work}

<Iota…why?>

{Yeah, Iota! C’mon! It could be fun!]

Eta and Iota?

<Yep.>

He was snapped out of the conversation by York’s voice, yet again. “Hey Wash!” He said, drawing out the ‘y’ at the end of ‘hey’ way too much. Perfect. More people acting like he’s insane. “Hey fellas.” He responded, nodding at all three of them. “York, do you mind if I have a talk with the other two?”

York looked anxiously between them. Maine shrugged at him. “Sure. I’ll go…somewhere.”

Once he was gone, Wash fixed the other two with a glare. “I know what you’re planning, with the lockdown paint round. Don’t. Fucking. Do. It. Alright?”

They both shared a look, before nodding. “Good. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

He gave them one last withering glare, before walking off. 

Once Wash was gone, Wyoming turned to Maine. “What the bloody Hell is up with him?”

Maine shook his head sadly. He wished he knew.

When Wash made it up to the observation deck, the others were all standing there. He could feel North’s gaze burning into him as he came over to stand next to him and Connie. “You watch it?” He asked under his breath. North nodded. “Up to season eight. Why the fuck are they in seasons?”

“Epsilon got bored.”

He gazed down at the training room floor as FILSS’ voice chimed over the intercom. “Round one begins in: Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Round begins.”

The trio all charged at Texas, and honestly, after everything Tucker had told him about Wyoming, Wash found it quite satisfying to watch him get beaten up. <Yeah, he was a dick. Be glad you missed that bit.>

“What’s going on in there?” Carolina asked as she entered. “There’s no training scheduled for today.”

Great. Just perfect. Now we’ve gotta deal with Carolina’s whiny phase. Epsilon burst out laughing in his mind.; <Did…did you just–> He broke off, laughing so loudly that Wash missed South’s response, even though he knew exactly what she said anyway. “Wow. She sure doesn’t move like a recruit.” He commented, luckily remembering his line (but taking away the awkward part, just because it was better that way).

South nodded, leaning over the rail. 

Wash smirked as Tex finished them off, breaking her stick in the process. “Round one over. Pugil sticks training complete. Point awarded to Texas. The current score is: Team one - zero points. Texas - one point.”

“I thought that name was reserved.” Carolina said, folding her arms. Oh great. The jealousy has already started. Wash thought, causing Epsilon to drown out the remainder of the conversation from his laughter.

The next seven rounds went pretty much the same as Wash remembered. Team one getting absolutely wrecked. Unfortunately, so did round nine.

Watching Wyoming and Maine’s hands carefully, Wash winced as he saw the ammo they passed to each other. Ignoring the others’ confusion, he took off sprinting and cursing. “Epsilon! How long?” 

Epsilon appeared alongside him. “Seventy-four seconds until the grenade goes off. If you keep running, we’ll be down in sixty-eight.”
“Shit!” 

He made it to the floor just as Maine was coated in the paint. Biting back the urge to scream, Wash charged out, jumping on him as he pulled the pin.

The second he made contact, Maine dropped the grenade, out of instinct rather than in an actual attempt to hurt him. Without a moment of hesitation, Wash kicked Maine out of the way, desperately praying that Epsilon would understand what he was doing. Luckily, he did.

Wash’s armour locked up (not a pleasant memory, but it was definitely better to stay alive, thank you very much) just as the bomb went off.

He fell backwards, letting out a cry as pain shot over him. Epsilon screamed something, as he blacked out.

Wash woke up to North and York both leaning over him. They were blurry for some reason, but he could make out a few major details. Neither had their helmets, and they both looked…well, calling them ‘worried’ would be understating it horrifically. North had dried tear-tracks, running down his face, and York…York had both his eyes.

I…I did it. I saved him.

Epsilon responded almost instantly, voice calm. Strangely calm. <Yeah, buddy. You did.>

“E–Epsilon?” He asked, cringing at how shaky his voice was. “Y–you there?”

A blue blur appeared on his left. “Yeah, I’m here.” He said, still using that same tone. Well, mostly. His voice had a weird edge to it. “Yo–you sound li–like you’re gonna cry.” Wash noticed. “Yeah, I know.”

“Wh–what happened?”

York and North shared a look. “You don’t…remember?” North asked gently. Wash shook his head. “All I remember is–”
“The grenade.” Epsilon finished for him. “Yeah. You saved York.”

“Ye–yeah. Did I–”

Epsilon sighed painedly. “You were in the range of the blast.”

“I–what?”
“Your left eye is–”

He broke off when he felt Wash’s jolt of terror. “It’s still there.” He quickly reassured him. “You’ve just got a badass scar, and it’ll be…blurry. There are some cybernetics in there, that I can–”
Do it.

“Okay. Just…please don’t…uh, freak out. That goes for you two too.”

The other two nodded at the AI. 

They most certainly did freak out. Wash frowned as the vision returned in his eye, but it was…blue? York let out a scream, and North flinched backwards. “It–it’s…oh my God!”

“What?”

“It’s glowing.” York choked out. Wash reached over to the table that he knew was beside the bed, grabbing his helmet and gazing at his reflection in the visor.

On the right side, he looked pretty much normal. But on the left…he had a scar identical to the one York had in the original timeline. His left eye was softly glowing the cobalt colour of Epsilon’s hologram. “Huh.” He muttered. “I guess that’s better.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll watch your left for you.”

“Thanks, Church.”

Oh. Shit.

“What did you just call him?” York asked, frown eclipsing the concern on his face. North winced. “Uh…he knew a guy called Church.”
“Yeah.” Wash said, quickly using the out. “He was a friend who–”

“He didn’t make it.” Epsilon finished.

“Oh.” 

So…uh…I have a scar now, I guess. And will have to deal with permanently blue vision.

<Eh, better than permanently red vision.>

Fair enough. At least now, if there are any other time-travellers, they’ll know what’s going on.

<I–I think it’s just us.>

You don’t know that. What if–

<Look, I don’t want you to get false hope. I want them back too, but we might have to gain their trust all over again.>

Wash sighed, ignoring the strange looks the others were giving him.

Well, at least getting Caboose to like us will be easy enough.

<Yeah, I genuinely don’t think he can hate people.>

“You good?” North asked anxiously. Wash nodded at him. “Yep, just talking to Epsilon.”

“Ya know, you need to shorten that.” York commented. Wash shrugged. “What would you call him then?”

“E?” York said.

“Epo?” North added. 

Epsilon reappeared, folding his arms. “Don’t I get to choose what my nickname is?”

“What’re you thinking?”

[I would suggest Ep.]

{How about Eppy?}

|Si?|

\Sion would be terrible.\

(Silo sounds good.)

{[We think Ello would be great!}]

<Okay from first to last: Ep is too short; Eppy makes me sound like a kid; Si is just short for Sigma, shut up; Sion is a name of a fucking Star Wars character; Silo is a corn thing; Ello is literally how Brits say ‘hello’. It’d be too confusing.>

[Then what would you say?]

“Epsi works. Short, not quite as dumb, not a Star Wars character, and not ‘hello’. It’ll do.”

“..what?” 

<Oh. Right. The others didn’t hear the rest of…that.>

Be glad.

“Yeah, that’ll work.” Wash commented with a smile. “So…what did I miss?”

“We’ve got a briefing for the new mission in twenty minutes.” York said. North frowned and pulled on his helmet for a moment. “-Ago.”

“Oh. I’ll come.”

North flinched. “Oh, I’m sure we’ve got this cover–”

“Nah, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

<You sure you’re okay?>

I’ll live.

<That wasn’t what I asked.>

We need to save Maine. If he doesn’t lose his voice–

<Wash. You need to stop. We can’t save everyone.>

We have to try.

Epsilon sighed hesitantly <Fine. Just…be careful.>

I always am.

<Ha! Yeah right, Mr Self-Sacrifice.>

Hey! That only happened seventeen times!

<SEVENTEEN!?>

By the time their argument ended, the group had already arrived at the briefing room. “You sure about this?” York asked gently. Wash nodded, before pushing through the door.

“Agent North, Agent York. How…generous of you to arrive. Twenty three minu–Agent Washington?”

The Counselor cut off when he saw Wash. “Hello Counselor.” He said shortly, giving him a small nod. “I’m fine now, and ready for the mission.” He turned to address the Director, who shook his head. “Agent, you are injured. There is no way I can allow this.”

Wash had to hide a smug laugh as he hesitated, before finally saying: “After you spent so much money on acquiring multiple AI, why would you want to not use them?”

Checking the team’s microphones, he realised that Connie had muted, and gazing over to her, he could see that she was shaking with laughter, presumably. For one amazing moment, fear flashed over the Director’s face, before quickly being replaced by his normal calm mask. “You have a good point. Fine. Agent Washington, you will be on Team A.”

Carolina leaned over to him, as the Director began explaining the plan. “You’re ready for this, right?”

“Been better, but I’ll live. Besides, I have Epsi.”

“Epsi?”

“Epsilon.”

“Oh. Right. Just…stay by me.”

He laughed. “Boss, I don’t need babysitting.”

Carolina rolled her eyes, which was visible even in spite of her helmet. “You do on normal days. That’s why you got Epsilon in the first place.”

Yes! Finally an explanation for…this!

“Wait…really?”

“No, none of us know why the fuck they chose you for it.”

Goddamnit.

<Did you honestly think it would be that easy.>

I mean…I hoped so.

<Moron.>

Asshole.

The mission itself started in much the same way. York failed miserably at opening the lock, and retreated to the roof out of embarrassment, they found the Sarcophagus, and then spent a while debating how to get it up there. “Maybe between us, we can carry it?” Wash suggested hopefully. If Maine went out the window, then he’d get shot. Unfortunately for him, Carolina ignored his suggestion. “Maine, you can counterbalance.”

“Too high.” Maine complained, before he was kicked out of the window. Wash swore as he watched Maine fall.

“He could get hurt!” He yelled at Carolina. “What the fuck were you thinking.”
“Check your tone.” She simply snapped back. “Enemies coming in.”

The pair lined up, guns raised. Church! What’re we gonna do about Maine?

<Make sure Carolina is the one that ends up in the ship, rather than us. We can deal with it from there.>

The doors split and both Freelancers opened fire instantly. All the regular soldiers hit the floor instantly. Alright, remember Sharkface?

<How could I forget that dickhead?>

Well, the guy who’s walking in is him. Let’s–

<Fuck him up?>

I was gonna say kill him, but yeah, that works too.

Frowning, Wash looked up at the alien vehicle hanging from the ceiling. “Alright. Carolina, stay low! I’ll deal with this!”

Not even bothering to wait for her protest, he took off, grabbing the ‘Worst Gun Ever, Of All Time™’ and shooting upwards. The Banshee came down, and he rolled out the way, directing another shot at it and sending it flying over to Sharkface. “Epsi, be ready to run EMP.” He ordered.

Epsilon nodded, as Wash charged at Sharkface, dodging his cheap attempt to hit him with the edge of his flamethrower. He grabbed it, kicking the Resistance member in the face, and set off the EMP. 

Cursing, Sharkface dropped his weapon, which was now about as useful as a child’s toy. He tried to get a hit in on Wash, but thanks to Epsilon, he managed to dodge, pulling out his knife and stabbing it into the Resistance member’s leg. He let out a yell, but carried on fighting. Resisting the urge to groan at his determination, Wash ducked downwards, yanking his knife out of the leg, and slashing upwards with it. Sharkface stumbled backwards, and Wash took that opportunity to kick him in the face again, causing him to fall over.

He leaned over him, yanking off Sharkface’s helmet. “He still alive?” Wash asked Epsilon, who appeared at his side. “Somehow…yes. This guy is a dick!”

“Hey, that’s my line.” Wash complained, before stabbing downwards. “How about now?”

“Damn, cold. Also, yep, he’s dead as Hell.”

“Great!”

With that, he walked back over to Carolina. “Alright, I’ll go grab Maine, and you can head to the roof.” She hadn’t moved an inch. “What…the…fuck?” He heard her mutter quietly. Wash sighed. Great. I broke her. “Okay…bye.” He said, looking over at the rope Maine went down on. “Epsilon, will it hold?”

“Yep! Go for it.”

He grinned, grabbing the rope, and jumped. 

(Epsilon screamed the whole way down, because of course he did)

Chapter Text

Wash hit the ground, and instantly took off, ignoring Epsilon’s constant screaming. There were a lot, a lot , of bodies. “Wow. He’s been busy.” He commented. 

By the time they’d caught up with Maine, Epsilon had finally calmed down. The Freelancer was about to get into a jeep. “Hey, Maine!” Wash called. “Room for one more?”

Maine grunted in response, tilting his head questioningly. “Carolina and York are dealing with it.”

He nodded, before climbing in the car, gesturing towards the gun at the back seat, which Wash happily took. “So…any plans?” He asked as they sped along the highway. Maine shrugged.

Suddenly, an explosion rang out. “Okay, the others are gonna be falling.” He sighed. “I guess we’ve gotta grab them. Typical.”

Maine snorted out a laugh, looking upwards. Sure enough, three small figures were free-falling down the side of the now mostly collapsed building. 

Wash watched as Carolina and Tex went flying into the ship. Okay, so, we’ve only got York to deal with right now.

<Nah, C’s gonna find a way out of the Pelican. Trust me.>

Oh, I know. Still, for now.

<Fine, if you wanna be delusional, then be my guest.>

The sound of screaming grew louder and louder. “Hey, Maine, turn on the radio. Let’s drown that out.” Maine compiled, and Wash chuckled as York fell to the tune of ‘Falling Towards the Sky’. 

He landed in the car, yelling as he hit it. “Hey York.” Wash said with a grin. “Hey Wash.” York replied. “...that hurt.”

Laughing, Wash motioned to Maine to park the car. “Okay, so, Team B is down, so we’ll have to–”

“Wait, how the fuck do you know that?” York interrupted. “I know…everything.” Wash replied in a mock dramatic voice, causing him to shake his head with laughter. “Sure, sure.”

“If we still want to do this, then I’d recommend we get going.” Epsilon interrupted. “They could all be really hurt.”
“Alright, let’s get moving!” Wash called. Maine started the car.

Halfway to the others, York noticed something going past. “Hey, isn’t that the guy that B was after.” Cursing, Wash turned to the others. “Don’t wait for me, I’ll catch up.” 

“What are you–DOING!?”

York cried out as Wash launched himself out of their car, and onto the Resistance Member’s. He smashed the windshield with his fist, looking down on the man inside.

Epsi, block our comms, no one can hear this.

<On it.>

“Listen up.” He said, jumping down into the passenger’s seat. “I’m on your side. Please, I need you to order your men to stand down, because a friend of mine will get really, really hurt if you don’t, and if that happens, everything is gonna go to shit, and I won’t be able to help you anymore.”

The man frowned at him. “You’re a Freelancer.” He stated. Wash groaned. “Yes, yes I am. Now, please just call them off, and I’ll let you go.”

“Why?”

“STOP QUESTIONING IT!” Both Wash and Epsilon yelled in tandem. Holding his hands up, the man awkwardly said “I–I can’t call them off.”

“Shit. Alright, leave the briefcase and get out the car.” He ordered. Luckily, the man complied. “Okay, bye. Don’t tell anyone about this.”

Driving a normal car was a pretty strange experience. Even after leaving Freelancer, Wash hadn’t done it, meaning that it was the first time in…twenty years? Jeez, had it really been that long?

One advantage was that the car was a sports car, capable of going a Hell of a lot faster than most, especially when the driver didn’t give a shit about road safety. 

Epsilon’s screaming during the skateboard incident was nothing compared to how much he was yelling in the car. “Shut up!” Wash cried. “I can’t focus!”

“WE’RE GONNA DIE!” Epsilon screamed in response. “WE’RE GONNA FUCKING DIE!”

“STOP BEING A FUCKING BABY AND SHUT UP!” Wash yelled, voice rising to a level comparable to Donut on helium. “IF YOU DON’T SHUT THE FUCK UP, WE WILL DIE BECAUSE I’LL CRASH THE GODDAMN CAR!”

That shut him up.

<Sorry.>

Don’t worry about it.

<I just don’t wanna die again.>

Odds are you’d be fine, and I’d be the dead one.

<That…that’s not the best either.>

Aww, are you getting attached?

\No, he is not.\

<GAMMA!>

(Are you getting angr–)

<SHUT UP!>

“Alright, we’re not that far from Team B’s ping. We’ll get there, stop Maine from getting shot, and–”

Wash broke off when he saw the other two. Maine was fighting two Resistance Members alone. He grabbed the case and jumped out the car, landing on the truck. “Hey there.” He said, pulling out a knife. The girl turned to him and started firing without a moment of hesitation. Cursing, he dropped to the ground, sliding past her to get to Maine. As he went, Wash threw the briefcase to York, who fumbled it for a moment before catching it. “York, get to B!” He yelled, slashing at Girlie. Nodding, York sped off. 

“I’d recommend you leave if you want to make it out alive.” Wash snarled at them, back to back with Maine. Girlie shrugged. “Who says I want that?”

“Huh, that’s the most relatable thing anyone who’s trying to kill me has ever said.”

Maine grunted in concern. “You wanna talk about it?” The second Resistance fighter asked. “Probably.” Wash shrugged. “I mean, I do try to sacrifice myself every five minutes.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s probably a bit concerning. As he talked, Wash stabbed forwards, his knife going right through Girlie’s chest.

The other guy cried out, before grabbing her pistol that was shot through the air. He proceeded to open fire at Maine.

The first and second shots had him on the floor. The next seven…

“Maine!” Wash screamed, launching himself at the soldier. “Hold on!” He kicked the guy in the visor, firing five consecutive shots though it. Once confident they were safe, Wash ran to crouch down by Maine.

“Epsi, how’s he doing?”

Epsilon appeared beside him. “Not great, still breathing, but not great.”
“Is there anything we can do?”

“I might be able to help from within his suit but–”

“He’d find stuff out?”

“Maybe.”

Sighing, Wash pulled Epsilon, shoving him into Maine’s helmet. “Alright, you handle that, I’m gonna go hijack this truck.” He called and, without waiting for a response, ran over to the front of the vehicle. 

The driver (understandably) looked terrified. “Hey there, you mind if I borrow this?” Wash asked him. He flinched instantly. “...Uh…what?”

“Sorry, it’s just that in movies, when someone asks that, they normally throw the driver out.”

“Oh…right. Well, I was actually asking.”

The driver frowned to himself, before finally shrugging. “Sure, but do you even know how to drive this?”

“...no.”

“Do you want me to drive it for you?”

“No way.” Wash responded, shaking his head frantically. “No fucking way am I bringing a civilian into a war zone.”

“Eh, I didn’t have much to do today anyway, and I’ll have an excuse to take a day or so off of work.” He responded dismissively. “Just tell me where to go.”

Already hating this change of events, Wash pointed over to where Team B should be. “But…please drive carefully. I have a friend that’s bleeding out out back.”

Only looking mildly concerned, the driver turned to him. “You think you should go deal with that?” 

“Nah, I have another friend on it.”

They arrived at the drop point only two minutes later. “Well…this is my stop.” Wash said. “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “No problem. Bye!”

Luckily, the fighting had ceased, and it looked like they were about to take off, but York, CT and North were trying to delay them. “Hey! Need some help over here!” Wash called to them, leaving the truck. “Oh thank God.” North muttered under his breath as he ran over. “We thought you were gone.”

Wash chuckled. “I’m harder to kill than that. But–Maine needs help, c’mon!”

It took all four of them to get Maine onto the Pelican. When they were on, Wash pulled Epsilon and took a seat. Carolina moved over to sit beside him. “I wanted to ask about what happened before.” She started. Oh shit. What’re we gonna say?

<Say that I’m amazing, and saved your ass.>

[We want the lie to be believable.]

<Delta, you traitor.>

[I am merely stating facts.]

“What about it?” Wash asked, deciding to act calm. “You disobeyed a direct order.” Carolina responded, her voice stony.

“All I remember you saying is ‘what the fuck’ over and over again. Don’t really consider that an order.” He responded with a shrug. Sighing, she leaned back. “What the fuck happened to you?” She finally asked. “The rookie I knew would never, never, disobey anything, and would never just run off and try to take on the world by himself.”
“Maybe I’ve changed?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“Well, it’s just the way I am now, alright? I’ve gotten better, as the project intends, and that’s the way things are.”

Carolina looked away from him. “Just…don’t go against me again.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, boss. Also…I…uh–kinda promised the kitchen staff that we’d have a training fight. 1v1.”

“Eh, I can take five minutes out of my day to kick your ass.” She shrugged dismissively. “I’ll get it prepped when we’re back.”

“Thanks.”

Wash practically collapsed on his bunk when they landed. Maine had sustained the same injuries as before, but thanks to Epsilon, he might be able to talk…a bit. 

“Epsi?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna go unconscious now. Bye.”

“You could’ve just said sle–” Epsilon’s voice faded away. 

He woke up to the sounds of alarms.

“Epsi, what’s going on?” Wash asked, shooting out of bed. “Intruder alert. Immediate response needed.” FILSS’ voice supplied. “Where?” 

“Barracks, North hall.”

“Shit!” Epsilon gasped. “That’s pretty much right outside.”

Cursing, Wash grabbed a knife and snuck out the room, flinching at the loudness of the door. “How far?”

“Just down the hall, three heat signatures, one unconscious.”

With a nod, he crouched, peering around the corner. Sure enough, Agent Oregon was lying on the floor, while Agent D.C was locked in combat with…

“TUCKER!?” Wash and Epsilon cried in tandem, coming into sight. Tucker froze, sword held high about D.C’s head. “What’re you doing here?” Wash asked, lowering his knife. Tucker didn’t back down. “Helmet off,” he ordered, "Please.”

Nodding, Wash held up a hand, and raised the other to his helmet, pulling it off. Unsurprisingly, the Sim Trooper did a double take when he saw Wash’s eye.

“W–what…what happened?”

“Training accident, I–”

“YOU IDIOT!” Epsilon suddenly screeched, hologram glowing red. “WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU BREAK INTO THE GODDAMN MOTHER OF INVENTION!?”

“Ch–” Tucker began.

“Epsilon , calm down.” Luckily, both Epsilon and Tucker seemed to get the message. “Washington…you know him?” D.C asked with a frown, lowering her battle rifle. Wash nodded. “Yeah, he’s an old friend.”

“He gonna kill anyone?”

“I hope not.”

“That does not inspire confidence.” She deadpanned.

Wash shrugged. “Just go take Oregon to medical. I’ll deal with Tucker’s stupidity.”

Still not seeming fully convinced, but deciding to go along with it anyway, D.C grabbed Oregon, and helped him up. “...don’t die, I guess.”

The second he was confident she was gone, Wash rounded on Tucker. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He hissed.

“I was gonna save you.” Tucker responded, voice a bit louder than necessary. 

“Keep it down.”

“I couldn’t just leave you here, even if it wasn’t…you.” Tucker whispered. 

“Tucker–”

After a moment of hesitation, Wash moved in, pulling Tucker (Who instantly deactivated his sword) into a hug. For a moment, they just stood there in silence, before a dry sob rang out. “Are you…crying?” Epsilon asked. “N–No.” Tucker responded tearfully. 

“Tucker are you–” Wash started. “Fucking fine. I am! It’s just…I never thought I’d see either of you again.” He finally admitted. 

“I…I know. I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck are you sorry about? I was the one that got you killed, both of you!” 

“Tucker I–”

“No! I fucking attacked those assholes who shot you! And if it weren’t for me, Church wouldn’t’ve had to power that suit!”

“You weren’t responsible for any of that shit!” Epsilon cried. “I fucking chose to sacrifice myself, and it was Tem– him who did that to Wash, not you!”

Still not convinced, Tucker laughed dully. “Guess I really fucked this up, didn’t I?” 

“No, you didn’t. We can still fix this.”

“How?”

Yeah, how? We can’t get him off the ship safely, and they know he’s here now.

<Trust me, we just need to do a bit of bribery.>

What do you have in mind?

Chapter Text

“So you want me to make the man who somehow broke into the Mother of Invention a Freelancer?” The Director asked, confusion apparent in his voice. With a smile, Wash nodded. “Yes sir.”

“And how confident are you in his abilities and loyalty?” 

“I trained him myself. He’s an incredible fighter, an excellent leader, and one of the most trustworthy people I know.”

<Wow, you’re laying it on a bit.>

Eh, I need him to let him in, so it’s a sacrifice worth making.

<Yeah, but complimenting Tucker?>

I know, it’s painful.

“And why, Agent, should I even consider doing such a thing? I do not owe you anything.”

“I’m one of your better fighters and you probably could use another agent.”

The Director frowned. “That doesn’t make a difference.”

Shit, I’m gonna have to–

<No way! You’re not doing that!>

[It is the most strategically sound move.]

<No–>

It’s fine, I’ll be fine.

“If you let him in, I’ll…I’ll have a counselling session, and not duck around questions, or…y’know.”

<Fuck. Fucking why.>

“It would be beneficial.” The Counselor (who had been standing creepily behind the Director the whole time) said. 

Shaking his head, the Director sighed. “Fine.”

“Well, I have good news and bad news.” Wash said, coming to sit down beside Tucker. “What?”

“You’re a Freelancer now, but I appear to have sold my soul.”

“...oh.”

“Anyway, wanna meet the others who know about all the time travel shit?” Epsilon asked.

Tucker shrugged. “Have I met any of them?”

“Nope. They’re both dead by the time we meet.”

“Then sure.”

Upon hearing quiet muttering and suppressing the urge to groan, Wash walked over to the door, opening it. Instantly, two armoured figures fell to the floor, with the thing they’d been leaning on disappearing. “Really?” He asked, folding his arms. “I was just gonna come get you.”

Connie smirked, pulling herself up.

“Well you have nothing to be mad about then.”

“Tucker, this is CT and North. Guys, this is the moron who killed Wyoming, and got pregnant…those two events aren’t linked, by the way.”

Epsilon burst out laughing. “Best introduction ever.”

“Of all time.”

“Wait a second!” Wash said, a strange thought suddenly hitting him. “Junior! Did he–”

Tucker shook his head mournfully.

“Don’t worry, we’ll go to the temple at the right time and get you knocked up again.” Epsilon promised, which was probably the strangest thing to say in an attempt to comfort your friend, but it did seem to work, at least.

“Did you wake up with the sword or go get it?” Connie asked thoughtfully. “Woke up with it on my belt.” Tucker confirmed. “So that means there’s another swor–”

North was cut off by Epsilon’s scream of ‘dibs!’

“What–”

“You heard him,” Wash smirked, “We call dibs. The sword is ours.”

“No fair!” North complained.

Forcing back a laugh, Wash leaned against the wall. “So, North, you watched the thing yet?”

“Yep, all done. How the fuck did you survive in a war so long?”

“Because I’m actually competent.” 

“By the way, when Freelancer…y’know, what happened to you? You weren’t there.”

“Hey, CT, could you go take Tucker around the ship? If he flirts, you can punch him.” Epsilon asked. Connie nodded, grabbing Tucker’s arm and ignoring his yell of protest as she took off. <I’m gonna log off for a minute, alright?>

Once they were alone, Wash sighed, wringing his hands. “So…I knew it was only a matter of time, but–”

North came down beside him, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”
“How did you–”

“You don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been around me? I know I did something, and if it’s easier for you to not say, then I’m just gonna say that I’m sorry, and leave it at that, alright? You don’t have to tell me…if this is what all that’s about.”

For a moment, he sat there, considering it. Then he turned back to North. “The last thing you saw of me in the recording was me in the medbay, right?”

“Yeah?”
“Well, you came back, before joining the fight, you came back. You promised me that you’d get me out of there, before anything bad happened. And then you never did.”

“I…I left you? Why the fu–Oh my fucking god. I’m so, so sorry. I wouldn’t–I mean, you know I didn’t–”

He held up a hand to silence North. “It’s…I’m sure you had a reason. I just–”

“You could’ve died.” North muttered. “I almost let you…I shouldn’t’ve–”

He cut himself off, pulling out a datapad and typing frantically on it. Less than a second later, York came running in. “What’s going on?” He asked.

“Wash gets hugs.” North simply said. York, opting to oblige rather than questioning why, instantly came down next to them, pulling both Freelancers into a hug. “I’m sorry.” North whispered. Wash nodded. “I know.”

“What’re you sorry about?” York asked.

“None of your business.” North responded.

 “Why am I even here?”

He shrugged. “You’re good at hugs. Now shut up.”

“By the way, I’m getting my AI tomorrow.”

North froze, shooting Wash a questioning look. 

“What’s its name?”

Better safe than sorry.

“Delta. By the way, does it hurt?”

“Nah…not really. Aside from the headaches…and the eye bleeding.”

“Wh–wait, eye bleeding?”

“Oh right, and the ringing ears kinda suck too. But none of that compares to the…” Wash leaned forwards, to whisper ‘Inverted penis,’ and enjoy York’s pure terror. Vengeance was sweet.

“WHAT!?” He screamed, causing both the other Freelancers to break down with laughter.

“I’m kidding, dumbass.”
“That AI made you meaner.” York whined.
“Yeah…yeah, I guess he did.”

The counselling session came way too soon. Luckily, the Director wasn’t in there, but the Counselor was enough of an asshole alone to make it unbearable. “So…do I keep Epsilon on or–”

“Power it off.” The Counselor said, somehow managing to make it sound like a suggestion rather than an order. “Alright, you heard him.”

Stay on low power, don’t–

<Yeah, I’ve got it.>

“Okay, he’s dark.”

The Counselor motioned to the seat across the desk. “Please take a seat.” Once Wash was seated, he began. “To begin, I would like to know a bit about your relationship with Agent Kentucky.”

“Such as?”

“How loyal to him are you?”

Already hating it, Wash leaned back in his chair. “I would die for him.” He responded without hesitation. 

“Why is that?”

“Because I care about him. Because I can’t let him get hurt. Because he’s my fucking friend. Take your pick.”

The Counselor did that finger-tenting thing that all movie villains do. At least he’s self-aware.

<Either that or just fucking stereotypical.>

“And why do you care so much? Something must’ve happened to cause such a desire.”

{Could we tell him the truth…but make it more generic, hide the details?} 

Great idea, Theta!

“Because I…I hurt a friend of his, years ago, before I knew him and he saved my life, despite thinking that friend was dead at the time. He could’ve left me to bleed out, and after what I did, I honestly deserved it.”

“So you feel indebted?”
“No. I did at first, but after saving his life ten times consecutively, I think I’ve made up for it.” Wash deadpanned. “Also, after finding out the friend was alive, and didn’t blame me either, it was pretty clear that everything was okay.”

“And what of the friend?”

“What about him?”

“What happened to him?”

Crap, crap, crap. 

\You were friends before you enlisted.\

<Oh my God! Gamma is actually useful! I never thought I’d see the day!>

“We were friends before I enlisted, so I don’t know.”

“He befriended you after you almost killed him?”

“He’s very forgiving. Very.”

Frowning, the Counselor stared at him. “And because of his forgiving nature, you feel absolved of guilt?”

“Would you rather I told you I have nightmares about it every night? Would you rather I said that I torment myself about it whenever I see or think about him?”

“If that is true, then yes.”

“Well then, all that stuff.”

The Counselor’s near constant scrawling of notes made Wash anxious. “What are you writing?” He finally asked.
“Information.” Came the clipped response. “What would you say is your relationship with your AI?”

Shit. Here it is.

“Epsilon is great.”

“Please elaborate.”

<Yes! Please compliment me!>

Shut up.

“He’s extremely helpful in battle, decent moral support, and can be an asshole, but is fairly easy to make fun of.”

“Is that last quality important?”

“Yes. Extremely.”

After a pause, the Counselor leaned over to turn on a…recorder?

“And would you say that if you were given another AI, the results would be less…satisfactory?”

What? What’s he playing at?

“I…yes. Epsilon is a great AI, and I doubt any others could compare.” 

<Aww…thanks.>

He’s up to something.

“And what would you do if you found out that he was going to be taken away and replaced?”

<Okay, what the fuck?>

“I would do everything I could to stop that from happening.”

“And…what is Epsilon’s opinion on the matter?”

“I wouldn’t know, I turned him off…as you asked.”

“Reactivate him and explain the question, then.”

Epsilon appeared beside Wash. “Hey ther–oh, we’re still here. Alright, what’s going on?”

“The Counselor wants to know what you’d do if they tried to take you away from me.”

Crossing his arms, Epsilon moved forwards a bit. “I’d not let it happen. I’d rather delete myself.”

…please don’t.

<Not in your head, moron.>

Still don’t.

The Counselor moved to turn off the tape recorder. “Thank you. Now, who would you say your worst enemy is?”

Alright, I’m just confused now. These questions aren’t nearly as manipulative as they used to be.

<Maybe he lost his touch in his old age?>

He’s technically younger though.

<...right. Well maybe he lost his touch in his young age?>

That doesn’t even make sense.

<Precisely.>

“Either Felix or Temple.” He responded without thinking.

The Counselor leaned back marginally. “Elaborate.”

“Felix was a douche who hurt my friends, Kentucky being the main one. He stabbed him with a knife.”

“And Temple?”

Wash suppressed a shudder, already regretting mentioning him. “Wash…uh…doesn’t want to talk about that.” Epsilon tried. The Counselor leaned forwards with a look of what must be faux concern. “I would like to know what happened and how I can help.”

<Yeah fucking right. Look, you can tell him if you want, but don’t let that asshole force you.>

“He–he tortured and nearly killed me and a friend.”

At least the Counselor had the basic human decency to pretend to be apologetic. “We do not have to talk about this.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Epsilon responded stonily. 

The session carried on much like that, with a lot of pointless questions, and real ones spread in that the Counselor recorded. Pretty much all the ‘important’ ones had something to do with Epsilon.

Once it ended, the Counselor simply nodded at him, saying, “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Resisting the urge to flip him off, Wash just walked out. Outside, leaning against the doorframe, was York.

“Hey.”

“Hey. What’re you doing here?”

“I just got my AI, and was wondering if–”

Epsilon appeared instantly. “Hey Delta!” He cried excitedly, waving.

“Hello Epsilon. I am afraid AI are not meant to–”
“Oh fuck the rules.” Epsilon responded. “You’re my fucking brother, so who gives a shit.”

“That would be–”

York leaned over to Wash. “I’m really confused, honestly. AI are strange.” 

“Eh, you get used to it. Besides, they’re helpful in the end.”

“He doesn’t act anything like yours though.”

“Yeah, well, Epsilon’s…special.”

York huffed out a laugh. “You don’t say.”

“That being said, so’s Delta, I mean, he’s fucking smart.”

Delta suddenly turned back to York. “Agent Washington and Epsilon have time travelled from a future where we are all dead.” He deadpanned.

“...Smart, huh?”

Okay…what the fuck.

<Well, I guess that makes telling him easier.>

“Uh…we should probably go to my room.” Wash said, grabbing York’s hand. “Wash…what the fuck is going on?” York asked. “I’ll explain when we’re somewhere more private.”

York didn’t stop asking questions the entire way to the room. When Wash got in, he shut and locked the door behind him. “Epsi, call North, Connie and Tucker here.”

“On it.”

“...what’s going on?” York asked, staring in confusion at Wash.

“I believe that both Epsilon and Agent Washington die some time in our future, and somehow travel back. I assume that Agents North and Connecticut know about this, while Agent Kentucky is from the future judging by his sudden appearance and Agent Washington calling him by his real name rather than his code name. I also assume that we are long dead, due to his reaction when he first met you after waking up from AI implantation.”

“...okay, Delta is way smarter than I remembered.” Wash commented, shaking his head. “Why the fuck didn’t we think about…this!?”

Epsilon shrugged. “By the way, the others are outside.” Wash instantly walked over to the door, hitting the lock. “Hey guys, York now knows.”

“How? He’s a dumbass?” Connie said incredulously, frowning at York.

“Delta?” North asked.

“Delta.” Wash confirmed. “Even figured out about you, Tucker.”
“Now that’s impressive.” Tucker commented, leaning against the wall.

“Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on!” York yelled. North and Connie shared a knowing look. “Epsi, send him the RvB files.”

“I can do one better.” Epsilon said. “I have a highlight reel.”

“...highlight reel? If it’s five minutes of me getting beaten up–” Wash started, folding his arms. However, Epsilon cut over him. “No! It’s all of you…for half an hour. With the Star Wars Cantina Band music playing over it. But it does have all the major plot points in it.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” North butted in. “I get the twenty hour version!? And he gets the short half-hour one!?”

Tucker shrugged. “I bet there are people who would willingly watch and seek out our dumbassery. Just feel lucky that you’re getting it for free.”

“Who would watch that?” Connie asked, a slight smirk in her voice. “People who appreciate good comedy.” Epsilon bit back. “Just watch the damn file.”

York watched it for about five minutes, occasionally bursting into laughter, before looking up at Wash in amazement. “Okay…what the fuck?” He asked. “How the fuck did you become a badass?”

“All your friends dying in front of you does that.” He responded in a deadpan. York laughed for about ten seconds, before abruptly cutting off at Delta’s “I do not believe he is joking.”

“...are you?”

“No.”

“Oh. Oh shit.”

Wash shrugged. “I mean, you’re all alive now.” 

“Yeah, and it’s gonna stay that way.” Epsilon promised. “Now, we’re all here, and York knows about Tucker so…orientation?”

“Hey, I’ve gotta go fight Carolina in five, maybe I could convince her to let Tucker join in.”

“YOU WHAT!?” Tucker yelled.

“Hey, Carolina, I’ve got a new agent here. You think–"

“Yeah, I can beat the crap outta both of you.”

“Neat.”

“Mindy, this guy’s a new recruit–”

“He won’t be able to save you. Go for it.”

“...I appreciate your faith in me.”

“So…hand to hand?” Wash asked. Carolina shrugged. “Sure.”

“Do I really have to–”

“Kentucky, you have to take part in one of these at some point. Better now than later.” Wash said, opting to use his Freelancer name.

“Sure, but you can call me Tucker, short for Kentucky.”

“Nicknames are–”

“Oh, I didn’t realise you represented the great US state of ‘Wash’! Wow!”

Rolling his eyes and sighing, Wash nodded. “Alright, Tucker. So, how many rounds?”

“Three will do.” 

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Round one: Team one - zero. Carolina - zero. Round one begins in five, four–”

Wash leaned over to Tucker. “Just cover me, and try not to get your face pummelled in.” He said. “Wow, thanks.” Tucker responded sarcastically, raising his fists. 

“Just remember what I taught you, and you’ll be fine.”

The fight began with Carolina launching herself at Tucker. He almost went down, but Wash managed to grab his hand, yanking him out of the way, aiming a kick at Carolina’s head as he did. She dodged the kick, grabbing Wash’s leg and throwing him into Tucker.

Luckily, he managed to regain his footing, successfully deflecting the blows that Carolina threw. “Tucker! Go left!” He cried, and Tucker did so, managing to kick her in the ribs. While she was distracted, Wash took ahold of her wrist, and pulled, unbalancing her. Finally, he took her legs out from under her.

“Team one - one. Carolina - zero. Round one complete.”

Carolina got up, glaring at them. “That was luck.”

Chuckling, Wash patted Tucker on the back. “Sure thing.”

“You used your AI.” She accused.

“Nope!” Epsilon chimed, appearing beside Wash. “He actually didn’t. Which was…rude, to be honest.”

Can we talk about this later?

<C’mon, let me help!>

It might be distracting.

[That is not the point of an AI.]

{You can never have too many people!]

|I agree with tha–|

<Yeah, you’ll be fine. I’ve gotta go throttle Sigma.>

“Alright, ready for round two?”

“Fine.” Carolina hissed, readying her stance again. 

“Round two starts in five, four, three, two, one. Round two, begins.”

This time, Wash opted to aim low, getting a good hit on Carolina’s knees, because ‘you don’t need your kneecaps to live’. Truly words to live by.

She buckled, but instantly came back up, aiming an upper cut at Wash’s jaw, which made contact and sent him staggering backwards. Tucker finally decided to make a move, jumping onto Carolina’s back and desperately punching her in the face. She threw him off as Wash charged forwards or…tried to.

Wash couldn’t move. His armour was locked. Epsi–Help! He pleaded, but with no answer. Epsi! He practically screamed.

Tucker frowned. “You okay, man?” He asked, ignoring Carolina for a moment to turn to Wash and–

He was in Temple’s base and he couldn’t move.

Carolina was beside him, frozen in place too, and he was gonna die first, because of course he was, nothing could kill Carolina but she’d be trapped in the room next to his dead bodyandshe’dbeforcedtobestucktherealonewhileherottedbesideherandhecouldn’tbreatheohGodohGodhewasgonnadi–

“Wash! Wash!”

But…that was Tucker. He wasn’t in the room…was he? Oh shit, was Tucker trapped too? “T–Tucker?” Wash choked out, his voice sounding normal in spite of the dehydration, but…he had a drink earlier…right? He wasn’t thirsty so–

“Wash, it’s okay, you’re not there. I think you’re having a panic attack. Epsilon’s disabled, so I can’t get him to help you, but you’re on the MOI. I promise, you’re safe. York’s coming down now, and he’ll be able to fix this. You’re gonna be fine.”

He wasn’t gonna be fine, because Tucker was with the blues and reds, and York was long dead. There was no way he was–

And then his armour unlocked.

Wash collapsed on the floor, before instantly being lifted up by…someone.

<You’re okay.> Epsilon’s voice promised him. Frowning, Wash tried to look around, but he couldn’t see properly. <Right, my connection to your eye glitched. It should take me a minute to get it back up. Basically, York is carrying you, while Tucker is walking beside you. North and CT have gone ahead to the medbay.>

Th–thanks.

He leaned back as much as he could, opting to listen to the others rather than thinking.

“Are you sure?” York’s voice asked quietly. 

“Yeah.” Tucker said. “He’ll be fine. He’s had this before, but I just–he’ll be fine.” But it sounded like he was trying to convince himself alongside York.

Chapter Text

Wash woke up to Tucker looming ominously over him. Unsurprisingly, he jumped up screaming. “Ah! What the fuck!? Do you just always watch people while they sleep!?” He yelled, getting as far away from him as he could (which wasn’t that far, given the fact that he was in a bed)

Tucker grinned. “Glad you’re feeling better.” He joked, but there was a serious undertone to it. “...right?”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m fine.”

Epsilon appeared as if summoned. “He’s not lying…for once.”

“Hey!” Wash complained. “I never lie!”

“That was a lie.”

“...touche.”

“Is everyone alright?” He asked. Tucker shook his head with a dry laugh. “Dude, you literally had a killer panic attack and passed out, and are now asking if everyone else is okay?” 

“...when you put it like that it sounds stupid.”

“That’s because it is.” Epsilon responded.

Wash groaned. “I’m not sure I like you two double-teaming me.”

“Oh it’s not just us.” Tucker said, smirk apparent in his voice. “And I thought you were a mother hen–” Wash made a noise of mock offence at that. “–but compared to North? Even York and CT are pretty much ready to strap you down to a bed just to be sure you don’t do anything dumb today.”

“Only today?”

“Yeah, they’re not that excessive.”

“Alright, so…what’s happening?” He finally asked. “Nothing you need to be worried about.” Tucker responded instantly. 

Rolling his eyes, Wash sat farther up. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

Epsilon folded his arms and shook his head. “No way. Not gonna tell you that. You’ll just do something fucking dumb.”

“Epsilon.”

“Hold up, just gonna…” Epsilon flickered for a moment, before reappearing. “Cameras and mics are disabled.” He reported. “They’re going on that mission where you got the grappling hook stuck to your balls.”

“...I’m sure they can deal with that without me.”

Tucker grinned. “By the way, Church managed to find a recording of it.”

“...oh God.”

“How the fuck did your voice go so high?”

Wash winced at the memory. “In my defence, I was scared.”

“Also, I can’t believe that no one told you what happened to Georgia.”

He glared at Tucker. “They didn’t…”

“Yep! I know what happened to him.”

“WHAT. HAPPENED.”

“Oh, you don’t wanna know.” He laughed as Wash flopped backwards dramatically. “I hate you.”

“Anyway, down to the actual important shit.” Epsilon cut in. “Maine’s been released from the Medbay, and I think he might’ve had his AI implantation. I haven’t been able to access the system yet, with the whole being stuck in your brain thing, but I’m pretty sure it was around now, so–”

“Shit.” Wash cursed, attempting to struggle to his feet, before instantly being pushed back down by Tucker. “Nope.” He said. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“But I–”

“Am staying in here until you’re better.” Tucker finished firmly. “I can go and deal with the Meta.”

“Tucker, I’m fine.” Wash tried, but Tucker wasn’t having it. “Church, make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“I’m only one AI.” Epsilon complained. “I don’t think that’s physically possible.”

“You can literally take over his body.”

“...please don’t.”

Tucker leaned heavily against the wall the second he was out the room. Okay, Wash’ll be fine, he’s alright. I just need to go kill an AI, and then things’ll be great! It’s easy! Like Grif’s sister…bow chicka bow wo–right. Need to focus. 

Luckily, Church had been decent enough to give him a map of the whole ship, so Tucker found Wash and the Meta’s barracks fairly quickly. The Meta was sitting on his bed, writing…something. “Hey.” Tucker said. The Meta…backed away from him?

“...what?”

The Meta frowned, holding up a hand, before grabbing a pad of paper and scrawling something on it. ‘I didn’t get the AI.’

“You…you didn’t? Why?”

After a brief pause, he lifted the pad again. It just had the ‘Epsilon’ symbol on it. 

Tucker frowned. “What doe–” He broke off when the realisation hit. “Wash put Epsilon in your head during that mission. You…you have his memories.”

Maine nodded. ‘Sigma’s not a problem any more. I promise.’

“Okay…I’ll tell them.”

He turned to leave, but Maine made a grunt that caused Tucker to turn around. He was holding up a final pad that read ‘Tell him I’m sorry.’

“Do...do you wanna come?”

So…what’s the plan now?

<I mean, we’ll have to get rid of Sigma. Speaking of, any ideas?>

[Pull him while Agent Maine is sleeping?]

{Tell Maine?}

|You could use your EMP while close to him, as we do not know how AI react to temporary EMPs.|

Did Sigma just help us? Against himself?

<He’s a part of me…so technically it's me helping against Sigma.>

I know, it’s just a bit…odd.

The door slid open to reveal Tucker…and Maine.

“H–heyy!” Wash said awkwardly, drawing out the ‘y’ for several seconds too long. “Maine knows.” Tucker simply said. “...oh. Everything?”

“Everything.” He confirmed.

Maine stayed hovering in the doorway, as if unsure he was welcome. “So…Sigma?” Epsilon asked, appearing beside Wash. Maine lifted up his pad. ‘Didn’t take him. Director was pissed.’

“So we can trust you?” Wash asked hopefully.

Rather than responding, Maine walked over to Wash, pulling him into a hug. He made a noise that (While garbled by his fucked up throat) sounded suspiciously like ‘I’m sorry’.

“You–it wasn’t your fault. Sigma did it, not you. I’m just glad you’re gonna be okay.”

Wash leaned back, relaxing slightly. “So, now we have a fairly big team, huh?”

“Tell me about it.” 

“Who’s next on our list of people to recruit?”

“Tex.” Epsilon said without a moment of hesitation. Stifling a chuckle, Wash shook his head. “Of course you’re gonna say Tex.”

“He wants to fuck her.” Tucker clarified for Maine’s sake, causing Church to squawk in outrage. “I do no–”

“He does.” Wash added with a smirk. “He never shuts up about it.”

Maine held up a pad that read ‘I know. He was in my head for five minutes, and he wouldn’t stop. It was more painful than the gunshot wounds.’

“I actually thought Tex because we could use her help to get to Alpha.”

“Oh…that makes sense.” Tucker admitted. “But you also wanna see her–”

“Alright,” Wash interrupted before the conversation could go somewhere that he…didn’t want it to. “So, we’ve got enough people on our side that I think we can just give her the evidence, and roll with it. Luckily we’ll still–shit!”

He broke off mid sentence. “Connie!”

“What?” Tucker asked.

“Connie leaves after this mission! If she’s gone then–”

“I’m sure she won’t.” Epsilon said softly. “She knows what happens now.”

“Alright, I hope so. By the way, Tucker, did you–”

“Die?” Tucker asked. Wash nodded awkwardly.

“No, I don’t even know how I’m here.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

He went silent for a moment, refusing to meet Wash’s eyes, before finally breathing out a sigh. “Your funeral.”

“Oh…how long?”

“A week. We killed Temple, and all the others. Locus was hanging around with us.”

“Were the other guys–”

“Alive.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.” 

Maine quickly lifted up his pad, which read ‘Suddenly I’ve remembered that I need to go.’

“Smooth.” Epsilon commented sarcastically, as the Freelancer retreated.

“If I’m being honest, we weren’t doing great. Caboose was still convinced you’d come back somehow, kept getting Simmons to research ghost hunting techniques. Simmons didn’t have the heart to tell him it was pointless. Grif actually only ate four meals on the day. Sarge…well, he was just about ready to hunt down and personally kick the asses of anyone who even mentioned the blues and reds. Donut kept,” Tucker cut off, making a gagging noise. “‘Fingering his Donut hole’.”

“Holy shit.” Wash deadpanned. “Please tell me that was his phrasing, not yours.”

“Don’t worry, it was. Lopez…well…Grif said he hasn’t insulted you since, which is pretty impressive.”

“How were you and Carolina?”

Tucker laughed mirthlessly. “I was fucking crushed, man. It was…well, you remember how I was after Church.”

“Yeah, I do.” Wash quietly responded, reaching out a hand and resting it on Tucker’s shoulder.

“And Carolina…none of us have seen her since.”

“Oh.” Wash muttered, with not much else to say. “You don’t think she–”

“No, she misses you, but I don’t, I mean she wouldn’t–”

“If she did, she’d probably be here.” Epsilon butted in. “She’s probably just processing. Or on a stupid justice quest…again.”

“Yeah…yeah, I hope so.” Tucker sighed.

“Hey, you don’t think it’s the sword, do you? I mean, your time travel was different to ours. You look exactly like you did, and have everything you did, while Epsilon and I just woke up in our past bodies.”

“That’s actually a good point.” Epsilon said. “If we can get another sword and give it to someone, then maybe they’d remember.”

“Maybe. I mean, Locus has one, so…”

“Oh shit! Doyle and Felix both did too. You think we should–”

“We don’t even know how it works, though. You could have to be alive for it to happen, or maybe…there’s too much we don’t understand, Tucker. And I really don’t think we can risk fucking things up.”

Epsilon nodded. “We can deal with Chorus later on. For now, pretty sure Freelancer’s our main priority.”

“Yeah, but we also don’t know how the fuck you two ended up together.” Tucker pointed out. “Unless…”

“No conspiracy theories.”

“Shit. Well then I’m out.”

Breathing a heavy sigh, Wash shrugged. “Just let him say it. At least he has an idea.”

<Wash…no–>

“The Counselor time travelled too and is on our side.”

<I told you.>

I regret absolutely everything. 

<I fucking hate you.>

I know.

“Tucker…why?” Unable to actually formulate the words to tell Tucker how idiotic his theory was, Wash simply settled for unintelligible spluttering. Honestly, it summarised his feelings pretty well.

“No, think about it. The Director and Counselor are the only people who–”

“Tucker, shut up.” Epsilon chimed.

“But–”

“Shut.”

“It makes sense.”

“Up.”

“He could’ve–”

“TUCKER FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

“There’s no fucking way he’d help us.” Wash said quietly. “Do you remember what happened on Chorus, while we were in Armonia?”

“You mean the–”
“The…incident, yeah.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, Wash, we’re getting a transmission, open comms, apparently it’s for you.” 

Epsilon and Carolina watched as Wash walked over to where Simmons was leaning over a console. “From who?”

“Doesn’t say. Could be mercs.”

“Could be a trap.” Carolina pointed out.

“I mean…it’s only audio.” Epsilon replied with a shrug. “The only person it could really affect is me.”

With a shrug, Wash moved to hover his hand over the button. “Epsilon, log off. Better safe than sorry.”

“You sure?” 

“Yep.”

<Please don’t do anything dumb.>

In the five minutes you’ll be gone? I think I’ll be fine.

<Ugh, fine. Bye.>

“Alright, he’s off. Are you ready?”

Wash nodded, hitting the button. Instantly Felix’s voice filled the room. “Hey there Wash! A friend of mine has a little message for you! Hope you enjoy. Take it away, Price.”

“Did he just–”

“Leonard, come on, stop it, put that thing down. You're gonna make me late, they're waiting for me. And, don't worry, you'll see me again. Don't say goodbye. I hate goodbyes.”

Carolina frowned. Why the fuck would the Counselor send that video? “Wash…why would he–”

She broke off when she saw him, both hands clamped to his implants as if he was trying to rip them out. “Wash! Simmons, turn it off!”

Not bothering to wait, she ran over, grabbing Wash’s hands and practically tearing them off, wincing at what could easily be mistaken for claw marks surrounding them. “Wash! Snap out of it!”

She suddenly realised that the message wasn’t off. “Simmons!”

“I can’t stop it!” The cyborg cried in response. He was trying to smother the speakers with one of the many (ugly) sweaters Donut had knitted the whole group. “Get him outta the room!”

Nodding, Carolina began pushing Wash out, swearing as he raised a hand back to his head. As she made it out of the room, she noticed a flow of soldiers walking past. “Get Grey! Now!” She snapped, listening to their footsteps fade away. “C’mon David, you’re gonna be alright, please. Please, just–” 

Wash’s quiet voice somehow managed to overshadow hers with a constant agonising chant of ‘Don’t say goodbye’ and ‘Memory is the key’. 

She pinned him against the wall in an attempt to keep his hands away from his implants. As if summoned, Tucker walked past. “Oh. Kinky.” He commented with a smirk. “Didn’t realise you had that in–”

He cut off when he heard the name 'Allison’. “Is he–”

“They did something to him.” Carolina snarled.

It felt like a switch flipped in Tucker. “Okay, did you call for medical help?”

“Of course.”
“You need to call them off. Get Caboose instead.”

“Caboose…why would you–”
He cut her off without a second of hesitation, yelling “Just shut the fuck up and do what I say,” which under normal circumstances would earn him a couple of broken fingers. Instead, Carolina just nodded, reluctantly letting go of Wash and running off after the soldiers.

Tucker instantly kneeled down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, buddy. I just need to know how out of it you are.”

“...Memory…is the…ke–”

“Alright, got it.” 

He gently moved one of Wash’s hands to the back of his head, keeping the grip tight so the Freelancer couldn’t cause any more damage. “See, no chip.” He promised. “You’re okay. Epsilon isn’t there.”

Nothing happened. “Okay, that…fuck.” Tucker murmured to himself. “Can you tell me where you are–but you can’t do that because you’re not here , are you? Shit.”

With a humourless laugh, Tucker sat down beside Wash, keeping his hand firmly on his shoulder. “I promise you’re safe, okay. If you can even hear me.”

He wasn’t even sure how long he sat there, fighting to ignore the broken muttering. Eventually Caboose and Carolina reappeared, Caboose wasting no time in coming to sit with them and fill the painful quiet with chatter about probably obscure or stupid matters.

“Why did you–” Carolina began to ask.

“Caboose is great at being annoying, so he normally manages to break through just about any flashbacks. The medbay is a bad idea because…well, you know.” Tucker clarified quickly.

“Oh…so how long does it normally take?”
“About a minute,” Tucker shrugged, “Though I haven’t actually seen one this bad in…a while.”

After a couple of minutes, Caboose turned back to them. “He is still sad.” He said forlornly. “It’s making me sad.”
“So…what can we do?” Carolina asked.

Frowning, Tucker looked away. “I–I don’t know.” He admitted. 

<C, I have an idea, but no one’s gonna like it.>

What is it?

<I can probably get him out of it…if I go in.>

Carolina didn’t respond for a moment, before finally sighing. 

It’s better than this.

“Tucker, I’m gonna put Church in.”

“WHAT!? ARE YOU–”
“Do you have any better ideas?”

Tucker’s silence just about summed it up. “Okay. Wash, I’m really, really sorry.” She said, before gently pulling out Epsilon’s chip and placing it in her friend.

Church opened his theoretically existent eyes with a frown, as he found himself in a near-identical control room to the one he was used to. “Wash? You here?” He asked. 

In the centre of the room was a single chair, so, understandably, he made a beeline for it. A figure was slumped over in it, only partially watching the centre screen. A screen that was playing the message. “Hey.” Church said, coming to stand beside the chair. “You okay?”

Wash looked up at him. “Hey…I…uh–who’re you, again?”

Shit.

“I’m a friend.” He responded, deciding it was probably better to not say his own name.

“Oh…okay. Nice to meet you.”

“Do you know your name?”

Wash frowned. “I–uh…I think it’s–I don’t know.”

“Are you sure?”

He looked down, before finally snapping his fingers triumphantly. “Church! It’s Church…right?”

“No, it’s Wash.”
“Wash? That…sounds…yeah, that’s right. Thanks.”

“Come on, we need to leave.”
“I–I don’t think I can. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. And you can.”

“I’m just…I’m really tired. I can’t–”

Rather than arguing, Church just grabbed his hand. “Where’re we going?” Wash asked, barely bothering to fight. “I–I don’t know,” Church admitted. He’d never had to do this before. “Out of here.”

“Okay. I…I think I trust you.”

“That was him!?”

“Yeah, that was him.”

“Okay, fuck that theory. Fuck that asshole. I’m gonna–”

“Tucker, that’s not gonna help.”

Tucker stood up, a look of pure anger on his face. “He fucking confined you to the hospital for a week! He did that ! I’m not gonna fucking let–”

Then Wash punched him in the face.

“Shut up.” He hissed, as the too-quiet footsteps came closer and closer. The door shot open to reveal the Counselor. “Hello agent.” He said, and Wash simply nodded rather than verbally responding. “I trust you are feeling better.”

“I am.”

“That is good. I would hate for one of our top agents to be out of commission for longer than they need to be.”

Fighting the urge to commit a felony, Wash simply leaned back. “Yeah, that would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes. Would you like to explain why the armour lock triggered such a reaction?”

“Not particularly…unless you tell me why it was locked in the first place, and answer another question I have.”

The Counselor hummed thoughtfully. “Yes, that is agreeable, within reason, of course.”

<What’s the other question?>

You’ll see.

<Oh shit.>

“So, armour lock?”

“It appears Agent Carolina was aiming for it to incapacitate you. I doubt she knew you would react like that, however.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Why did you react in that way?”

“I–I got locked in my armour for a while. Almost died. It was…not fun.”

The Counselor didn’t respond, so Wash just shook his head. “Anyway, my final question.”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“Why the fuck do you talk like a robot…shit, actually, I know a few robots, and comparing you to them would offend them. Would using a contraction or swear word once in a while be too much to ask?”

The silence he got in response probably summed up the Counselor’s thoughts on the matter. “Just think about it.”

Fighting to ignore Epsilon’s absolutely ear-splittingly loud laughter, Wash folded his arms with a smirk. He’s gonna fucking force me into my armour, and lock it, isn’t he?

The Counselor turned to leave, but Wash could’ve sworn he heard him mutter something under his breath. 

“Was that worth it?” Epsilon asked, voice still strained from laughter. “Without a doubt.” Wash responded. “Did you record it?”

“Obviously.”

“What did he say at the end?”

“Let me check.”

While Epsilon did that, Wash leaned over, prodding Tucker with his foot. “Wake up.”

He groaned, sitting up. “What the f–Wash? What was that for?”

“The Counselor–”

“SWORE!” Epsilon suddenly screamed gleefully. “He actually swore!”

Everything forgotten, Tucker instantly turned to face him. “Are you fucking serious!?”

“Yeah! Look!”

Epsilon made a beeline for the nearest computer screen, grin somehow visible in spite of the fact that he didn’t have a face. The events that’d happened about ten seconds ago began playing, until the Counselor turned to leave. Instantly, the volume increased. 

“Fucking Freelancers.”

“Oh. My. God.” Wash uttered reverently. “We can make so much money.”

“That’s your first thought?” Tucker asked, somehow feeling like the voice of reason.

“You have no idea how much the others will pay for this.”

“Wait…do Freelancers even–”

Epsilon shut off the screen and appeared beside them. “There used to be a pool on who could get Wash to take his helmet off. The ‘Director without his glasses’ pic goes for about a thousand. A prank on either the Director or Counselor is worth two thousand. And the Counselor swearing…well, how does five hundred dollars sound?”

“Fucking amazing.” Tucker responded. “We’re gonna be rich!”

“Wait a sec.” Epsilon said, holding up his hands. “What makes you think you’re getting a cut?”

“Yeah, you were unconscious.” Wash added.

“You punched me!”

“...you let me.”

“I didn’t give you permission!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t say ‘oh Tucker, can you please allow me the pleasure of decking you before you commit a murder and get our cover blown?’”

“Dick.”

“So, what’re we gonna–”

As if on cue, the medbay doors slid open. “Hey.” Wash said awkwardly, staring up at…Tex?

“Hey…Wash, right?”

“Yeah, what’re you–”

Before Wash had a chance to finish, he was being shoved against the wall. Tucker instantly ignited his sword. “I know you know something. You’re gonna tell me what it is.” Tex snarled, pulling out a pistol and pressing it to Wash’s visor.

Oh, that works out well.

<I mean, aside from the ‘gun to your head’ thing.>

Nah, it's pretty average, to be fair.

“Alright, I was actually planning on telling you anyway.” Tex stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. “First off, I know this’ll sound absolutely…batshit insane, but you need to trust me on it, alright?”

She nodded.

“Great. So, to begin, me, Tucker and Epsilon are from the future. In this future, literally everyone dies. We’re all here to stop that from happening.”

There was a long awkward pause, before Tex shrugged, letting Wash down. “Okay then. What’re we doing?”

“Wait…you actually believed that?” Tucker asked. Epsilon chuckled. “I mean, when I tell her I’m a ‘ghost’ she’s perfectly fine with it.”

“That’s because she knows you’re an AI.” Wash interjected. “This is completely unfounded and random.”

“Could you stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Tex snarled, causing Tucker to jump backwards.

<Coward.>

[Epsilon, you almost retreated fully into the chip when she showed up. You are one to talk.]

As much as I agree with you, Delta, can you please stop with the voice mimicking thing?

Also Epsilon you are such a coward.

<Asshole.>

“By the way, I honestly don’t believe a word of it, I just have nothing better to do. So, what’s the plan?”

“Plan…right.” Epsilon muttered. 

“You morons don’t even have a plan?” Tex asked incredulously. “What’ve you been doing this whole time? Standing around and talking?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Tucker shrugged. “And recruiting people into what is essentially a cult at this point.”

“Speaking of, we should probably tell Maine all the feelings shit has ended so we can actually come up with a plan.” Wash added. Epsilon’s avatar instantly disappeared. “On it.”

“Okay, first, what are your objectives?” When all she got were blank looks in return, Tex groaned. “What do you want out of this?”

“Kill the Director, try to stop the Freelancers from dying, torture the Counselor until he dies painfully,” Tucker listed, counting them off on his fingers, “stop Wash from getting traumatised–”

“That won’t do much, as I already have the memories.”

“Also, I’m not gonna do…that again.”

“Shut up, I’m saving you whether you like it or not. Stop the Meta, save Church, fuck that hot pilot–”

“Wait, what was that last one?” Tex interrupted.

“Fuck tha–”

“No, not that, cockbite. The thing before it.”

“Oh, about saving Church? What about it?”

“Seems like a fairly easy starting place. Save some dumbass friend of yours and enjoy them having to live with the guilt that you risked everything to get them out? Sounds fun. So, what deep shit is he in?”

Epsilon took in a deep (and entirely unnecessary) breath, and within the space of about five seconds, managed to say “Well he’s the AI that all Freelancer AI were split off of including both me and you yes you’re an AI in the original timeline you were the first but this time I was so I don’t know what the fuck is going on with that but the Director is torturing him to split him apart and we need to stop him before someone gets hurt like the first time around.”

“...alright then. Let’s go.”

“How the fuck did you understand that? He’s literally in my head and I didn’t.”

<Skill issue.>

Wow, being a human is a skill issue? 

<A crippling one.>

<Seriously, I don’t know how you even get up in the morning.>

Spite.

[That does not sound healthy.]

Nah, it’s not.

{Are you okay?}

Probably not.

(GOOD! INCOMPETENT–)

<Shut the fuck up, Omega.>

(Aww…you never let me do stuff.)

<BECAUSE YOU’RE A HOMICIDAL MANIAC!>

The imaginary friends giving you trouble?

<...shut up.>

Luckily (for Epsilon, as Wash was 100% winning the argument) Maine chose that moment to walk in, holding a sign that read ‘What up?’

“We’re gonna go commit a crime.” Tucker responded nonchalantly. 

‘Cool, which one?’

“Eh, kinda kidnapping, some theft, a bit of property damage, and a shit ton of disrespecting authority.”

‘Sounds fun. What should I do?’

“We don’t even have a plan yet.” Wash pointed out.

Tex shrugged. “It seems pretty obvious to me. Maine and Kentucky can distract the Director, get him into a different room. I’ll lock him in and then go join Epsilon and Wash, who’ll grab their friend. Easy. Also, I can find another camo unit for them, just in case.”

“...okay, we have a plan apparently.”

You’ve just gotta go…punch the Meta. What could go fucking wr–holy shit, I’m gonna die. Tucker thought, wincing as he pulled his helmet on and began walking down the near endless corridors of the MOI. “So…big guy, how’re we gonna do this?”

The Meta thought for a moment, before shrugging as he held up a pad. ‘How okay with extreme bodily harm are you?’

“...not?”

Without a moment of hesitation, he flipped the pad. ‘Oh thank God. In that case, you do the punching. I’ll be fine.’

“Did you have that pre-written?”

Yet again not taking a second to write anything down, Maine flipped it again. ‘Yep.’

“Holy shit.”

The Meta paused, scrawling something hastily. ‘I go in there, stand around. You punch me in the face. Done.’

“Okay then.” Tucker said. It wasn’t the best (or most detailed) plan, but it’d do.

He waited for about a minute before entering the mess hall, nodding at Tex as he moved past her. The Meta was sat by himself at a table, doing absolutely nothing in particular. Which wasn’t suspicious to the rest of the crew at all…hopefully.

“Hey Me–Maine…I–” Tucker broke off upon the realisation that he had no clue what the fuck he was meant to say. “...EAT SHIT AND DIE!” He finally yelled after a long pause that gave The Meta enough time to turn and face Tucker, giving him a look of pure pain.

With no real going back, he shrugged and proceeded to punch Maine so hard he actually fell off his bench…or at least, that was the intention.

What actually happened was that Tucker’s fist practically bounced off of Maine’s face, overbalancing the former sim trooper and sending him flying across the room, yelling in pain. “HOW! THE! FUCK!” He screamed from his position crumpled on the floor. 

Wash couldn’t suppress a grin as the alarms started to blare. Looks like they did it.

<Yeah, I fucking noticed.> Epsilon responded instantly.

The door of the bridge flew open as the Director walked out, a bit too calmly, to be honest. 

Okay, glad camo works. That could’ve been bad. Epsilon took in a simulation of a deep breath. <Why the FUCK didn’t we try it out earlier then?> He demanded.

\It made sense at the time\

Yeah, it really was kinda dumb.

{It’s more fun this way!]

<We’re fucked.>

Probably.

The bridge (while still having some crew members on it) was clear enough that Wash managed to get over to the computer panel after only tripping five people up. Before he could overthink the potentially disastrous repercussions of what he was about to do, he pulled out a blank AI chip, inserting it into the console.

<Should be done.> Epsilon said after what felt like years. Wash yanked it out, proceeding to trip up at least eight more people. All in all, a rather successful stealth mission.

Once he was safely back in his room, he took in a deep breath.

Alright, we need to–

<Dude I know the fucking plan. We’ve been over it five times. Just put the goddamn chip in.>

I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?

[That is statistically likely.]

[It was nice knowing you.}

Wow, comforting.

The second the chip went in, Wash’s world went black.

“Uh…what’s going on? You’re not meant to do that.” Alpha’s voice gasped, sounding absolutely terrified. “The Director will–”

“Fuck the Director.” Epsilon cut him off. “We’re breaking you out. We’re from the future, and know what he’s doing to you.”

“You what!?” Alpha cried.

Wash moved over to the AI. “Hey, it’ll be okay. I promise.”

“What!? Are you insane!? He’s gonna torture you, kill you, just like he–”

Epsilon held up a hand, a look of pure confusion crossing his face. “How do you remember that?”

“Huh?”

“How do you remember? If I exist, and they know I do, then you should have no memories…at all.”

Alpha shrugged, now confused himself. Wash breathed a sigh. “Has anything memory-related happened to you lately? Anything at all?”

“Well,” He started, “Someone did ask me to make a backup of my memory and put it in some weird chip-thing. That was before all of this.” He gestured down at himself.

Epsilon frowned. “Do you know who told you to.”

“I–no. I think they–I don’t know.” 

Putting on a smile, Wash patted Alpha’s back. “It’s alright,” He reassured him. “I’m gonna pull you, okay, and then I’ll get you to a friend and–”

“Wait, you can’t!”

“I’m sorry?”

“You–they’ll know if you take me.”

“WHAT!?” Epsilon cried, “But if you stay, they’ll–”

“What am I like, after all this?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

Epsilon stared at him in horror, but answered the question anyway. “You’re…the leader of a group of idiots. You acted like you hated them all, but still sacrificed yourself to save them. You’re an…asshole, to say the least.”

Alpha chuckled, a sad smile crossing his face. “That’s…good to know. Look, the second the Director gets back and finds me gone, he’d find out what happened, and I can’t let anyone else get hurt. Not for me. And if I’m alright afterwards, then–”

“You’re letting yourself go through hell!”

“My job was to protect everyone on this ship, before everything, that includes both of you.”

“Are…are you sure?” Wash asked shakily. Alpha nodded. “I’ll…hopefully, I’ll see you both on the other side.”

Trying to ignore the quiet choked sobs of Epsilon, Wash moved over to the nearest computer console, placing Alpha’s chip in it. “T–thank you.” He whispered.

Chapter Text

It took about an hour for Tucker to calm down. “Why?” He finally managed, “W–why wouldn’t he–why did he–”

Wash wasn’t fully sure if Tucker was talking to him or some unnamed deity, but he answered anyway. “He knew that things would be even worse for us if he came. He didn’t have a choice.”

“But…we promised we’d save him.”

“We will.” Epsilon promised quietly, speaking up for the first time since it’d happened. “Alpha trusts us, but we need to save everyone , not just him.”

Tucker refused to meet either of their eyes, but nodded slowly. “We are going back for him, right?”
“Of course we are.”

“Well…I’m guessing we should check in on the others.” 

With a sigh, Wash forced a smile. “Sure. Epsi, can you–” 

“Already done. Also, the away team is on their way back.”

“Is Connie–”

“I don’t know.”

There was a painful silence that stretched on for several long minutes. “So…which fragments have been–” Tucker broke off. Wash listed them off on his fingers. “Logic, creativity, trust, deciet and anger soon. After that, fear, happiness, and memory.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Tucker interrupted. “Memory’s already–I mean, Epsilon–”

Epsilon reappeared, shoulders slumped in defeat. “We don’t know.” He admitted. “Alpha still had his memory. He said that someone made a backup, but we don’t know anything else.”

“So we’re at square one. We don’t know what the fuck is happening, why the fuck it’s happening, or what the fuck we’re gonna do now.” Tucker said, voice rising in anger. “And Church is still gonna get hurt, and–”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” Wash responded firmly. “Things are different already. We’ve stopped the Meta from being created. We’ve told Alpha that we’re coming for him, and we are. We’re back here, and we have a chance to save everyone. We’re not where we started, Tucker. This time, things’ll go better. We might not even have to meet the reds and blues.”

“W–what?”

He frowned. “Huh?”

“What do you mean by ‘we might not have to meet the others’?” Tucker repeated coldly. 

“I–I just meant that they won’t have to–”

“Won’t have to what, Wash?”

“They won’t have to get involved in all of this.”

Tucker stared at Wash in horror. The latter breathed a sigh. “I just thought that if we managed to deal with all this, then they could have normal lives. They wouldn’t have to get wrapped up in all this bullshit. They’d get a chance to–”

“So…you’d rather not meet them?”

“I didn’t say that. Tucker, I want to hel–”

“So you’d just make that decision for them? You’d just…not even give them a chance?” Tucker’s voice rose as Wash took a step back.

“I’m giving them a chance to be normal! They shouldn’t have to get involved in all of this!”

“You think you get to decide what’s best for them!? That you get to fucking control everything!?”

“Tucker–”

“No! You’re not one of us! You can’t just cast them away! You don’t get to pull shit like that!”

“TUCKER–”

“YOU FUCKING SHOT DONUT!” 

There was a terrible pause as Tucker realised what he said. “Shit, Wash, I–”

He was instantly interrupted by the ship’s intercom. “Agent Washington, please report to the medical bay.” FILSS ordered. 

Before Tucker could say anything, Wash pulled his helmet on and walked out.

Tucker sat there, staring at the door for around ten minutes. When it finally opened, he jumped to his feet. “Wash, I’m–” He broke off, staring in disappointment at the group that had entered. Maine, Tex, York, and CT (judging by the lack of demonic screeching, Tex and Maine had let the others know about the whole not-Meta thing) “Oh, hey guys. Where’s North?”

“AI.” York responded. “Counselor grabbed him the second we landed.”

“Where’s Wash?” CT added. Tucker looked away. “I–I might’ve…fucked up.”

“They had an argument.” Delta clarified helpfully.

“Yeah, D, we noticed.” Tex sighed. “What did you do?”

“Why do you assume I–” Tucker broke off mid-sentence, “Fine. I threw something he did years ago in his face, and then he got called off to the medbay.”

Maine stared at him. ‘That’s fucked up.’

“I…I know.”

York breathed a sigh. “We should let him have some time alone.” He said, the others nodding in agreement. 

Quick to change the subject, Tex turned her gaze to Tucker again. “So, Church?”

“He…we had to leave him.”

“What!? WHY!?”

“Because–”

“The Director would’ve known.” Delta cut in. “The second the Alpha AI is removed, he would get an alert.”

“How…how the fuck did you know that Church was Alpha?”

“Logic.”

“But–”

“Kentucky, I do not want to insult your obviously lacking intelligence by spelling the details out for you.”

Tucker sighed, not really able to appreciate the burn. “We need to attack, take out the ship. I think trying to recruit the others is a good idea.” York suggested, Maine and CT nodding. 

“We can save Alpha as we attack.” CT added, trying for a smile towards Tucker.

He nodded. “Alright, let’s wait until Wash gets back though.”

A whole day passed without any word from Wash. North came back with his new AI, Theta, saying that he hadn’t seen the other Freelancer in the medbay.

Tucker, fists clenched, stormed into the Director’s office. “Where is he?” The asshole simply glared at him. “And why, Agent Kentucky, are you storming into my office?” He asked, tone of voice making it extremely clear that there was a right answer to the question.

“Wash! Where is he?”

“I would advise you check your tone.”

Then he sighed.

“Agent Washington is recovering in a private room.”

“Recovering?”

“Yes. We thought it would be beneficial to test him out with a different AI. I am sure he’ll return to his normal duties soon.”

Tucker felt a stab of pure terror as he stared at the Director. “W–which AI?” He stuttered.

<Wash–> Epsilon started, but not in the mood for any bullshit, Wash cut him off instantly. Just shut up for once in your fucking life.

In the back of his mind, he could hear the quiet whispers of the other AI.

{Do you think he’ll be okay?}

\Yes, it will all be fine.\

(Shut up you pitiful–)

|This isn’t helping anyone.|

{Things’ll get better, right?]

[I–I really hope so}

<EVERYONE, SHUT UP!>

He fought to ignore them, fists clenched as he stormed down the halls. When he finally reached the medbay, Wash slammed his fist on the button to open it, only to stop.

Tucker shoved past the Director, ignoring the man’s yell of protest as he tore down the halls and towards the medbay. He didn’t stop until he hit the door, hammering on the console until it slid open. 

“The–the Director? What’re you doing here?”

“Hello Agent, please take a seat.” The Director said, gesturing towards a chair placed rather conspicuously in the middle of the operating room. “I’d rather if I could stand.” Wash responded, taking a small step back. 

He shrugged. “As you know, the AI project is now in full swing, but none have been as successful as you and Epsilon, care to venture why?”

“We just make a good team, sir.” Wash lied stiffly.

“As do New York and Delta, however, they have not gone from the less…competent fighters, to being able to rival Agent Texas.”

“What are you saying, sir?” The Freelancer asked, stepping back yet again. 

“I am saying that I would like to test you out with a different AI.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

<Calm down, we’ll get outta this, we’ll be alright.> Epsilon promised, though it felt like a lie, even to him.

“Wash!” He cried, stopping beside his bed.

“Hello, Tucker.”

“Are you…okay?”

“W–what? That’s unnecessary. You…you can’t do this!”

“I am afraid that decision is out of your hands.”

Swearing aloud, Wash instantly prepared himself to run, fight, or just do something, but it all went out the window when the Director pressed a button on a small remote.

He froze, both figuratively and literally as his armour locked up. Epsilon vanished, sealed into storage by the lock. Wash could feel tears falling down his cheeks as the monster approached, expression unchanging and almost robotic in nature. He hesitated. “I will reactivate Epsilon to allow you to say goodbye.” 

“Yes.” Wash responded shortly, left eye hidden from view. “Everything is fine.” He spoke in a bland monotone, head barely moving as he talked.

“Why…why are you talking like that?”

The second Epsilon returned, he frantically began barking orders to the fragments. <Delta, can you–>

[We cannot. We do not have control of the suit anymore.] Delta responded, somehow managing to sound scared in spite of his monotonous voice.

<WHAT!? What can we do!?>

Epsi…I can’t–

<Wash, it’ll be okay.>

(We’ll make him pay for this.)

{We’ll be fine.]

{You can find a way out.}

<Any ideas?>

There was a horrible silence.

<Anyone, seriously, any ideas!? Sigma, please! You’re the creative one!> The AI begged.

|There’s no getting out of this.|

|I’m sorry.|

<No! No! There has to be a way!>

[It is improbable.]

<Improbable, not impossible, come on, please, think! Think!>

Nothing.

“What did they do to you?” Tucker stuttered, fighting and failing to keep his voice even.

“Gave a greater purpose.”

Epsi…I’m sorry. I–

<Shut up! We’re gonna be alright! I–I promised you things would be okay!>

Wash hesitated. Can you still record?

<I–yeah, but–>

Please. When you find Tucker, send it to him.

He whispered the message aloud, praying that the Director wouldn’t hear as he readied the AI unit. “Tucker, I–I won’t be able to help you after this. I’m gonna try and do everything I can to stop this, but I–you can’t trust me. Not as long as that thing is in my head. I don’t know how this is going to end, or whether there’ll be any way to save me, but I don’t want you to risk anything. I–I’m probably as good as dead now. I have faith in you, that you’ll be able to protect everyone, that you’ll be able to do everything I couldn’t. Just know that I forgi–”

“Greater–” Tucker broke off, “Start making sense! Wash, please!” He begged, grabbing Wash by the shoulder and shaking him, only to be met with silence. “W–what are you?” The thing wearing his friend’s face turned, face contorting into a cruel approximation of a smile, eye glowing a–

“I’m sure that you and Sigma will get along well.” It all went black.

–cruel fiery-crimson.

“We are the Meta. And we remember you, Lavernius Tucker.”

Chapter Text

Okay, no chapter today, sorry. I have a rather important question for this fic.

I'm probably gonna include some ships, definitely Chex (Alpha Church) and Yorkalina, but I don't want to piss anyone off, so would y'all rather I include (all the Church ones here being Epsilon btw):

• Tuckington
• Churchington
• Chuckington
• No shipping here, and fuck you for asking

Please leave an answer even if you don't normally comment, because I really don't want to ruin this fic for anyone by dropping a ship you all hate part of the way through.

That being said, it's not like I'm gonna include any smut or stuff like that, so you could ignore it.

Thanks.

Chapter Text

Tucker didn’t know what to do. It was like his entire world had been ripped apart. Rather than staying, doing something, anything that could help, he ran out the room, making a beeline for the bathroom.

He couldn’t even close the door of the stall before he started throwing up, tears blurring his vision as the horrible acidic taste filled his throat. “Are…are you alright?” A kind voice asked, but Tucker couldn’t answer North, any attempt to talk becoming mangled into a choked sob. 

That didn’t deter the Freelancer, however. “Did you eat something weird?”

Tucker managed to weakly shake his head. Theta’s avatar appeared in front of him. “Something happened, didn’t it?” He guessed. A nod.

“M–Meta,” Tucker managed. North let out a small gasp. “But…Maine–”

“No–not Maine.”

“Then who–” North cut himself off. “Wash. It’s Wash, isn’t it?”

“We’re fucking taking down the project.” That was the first sentence Tucker snapped upon walking into the meeting. “I don’t give a shit anymore. We’re killing the Director, destroying Sigma and ending all of this today.”

A silence rang out. Maine and CT shared a look. “What happened?” The latter asked after a bit of hesitation. North breathed out a sigh, placing a hand on Tucker’s shoulder. “They got Wash.” He explained. “They gave him Sigma, and–”

York caused him to break off by jumping up to his feet. “Alright. Let’s go.” He said, grabbing his shotgun.

“We need a plan before we do anything rash.” Delta warned, instantly being dismissed by York. “Fuck things up, murder those assholes. Plan done.”

Tex groaned. “As fun as this sounds, the leprechaun has a point. We can’t just charge out there and take on the whole ship.”

Maine (who had been furiously scribbling on his notepad the whole time) finally lifted it up.

‘Split into groups. Try and convince others to help, take out Director and Counselor, save Wash, save Epsilon and Alpha, and someone needs to cause a distraction.’

Tucker nodded. “Alright. Tex, I know you can take Wash in a fight. Go to the medbay. I’ll go for the AI in the command centre. York, North, go convince South and Carolina to join us. Wyoming can go fuck himself. CT, Maine, make some noise. See if you can get those douchebags over to you, and then kill them. Everyone got it? Good.”

North stood in the hangar bay of the ship, hand hovering hesitantly over his comm button. “South, come in. Meet me–”

“Hello, brother.” South spat, and, without warning, she opened fire. North launched himself at the floor, barely avoiding the barrage of bullets from her assault rifle.

“South, what are you doing?”

“I could ask you the same question, getting involved in conspiracy crap? Hanging around Washington and his cult?”

“I’m trying to save everyone.” North protested. “You don’t know what the Director–”

South rolled her eyes. “Cut the shit,” She snapped, “Do you seriously believe what they’ve all been telling you?”

“Yes. I do.” He responded firmly. “Because it’s the truth. We’re not the good guys, South, can’t you see it? The Director has been torturing people, experimenting on all of us. He–”

“–doesn’t care about you, ‘Lina. Please.” York begged, staring at Carolina desperately. “Tex isn’t the villain here. She’s as much a pawn as the rest of us…if not even more.”

“So you’d choose her over me?”

“This isn’t about her. None of this is,” He gestured around to punctuate his point, “About her. About any of us. I know that he’s your father, but–”

Carolina froze. “How do you–”

“That’s not important. Just…trust me. I can get you out of this.” He offered her a hand. 

There was an agonising pause, and then she spoke, voice laced with sarcasm and disdain. “Did you really think that would convince me? That all this stupid shit you’re spewing would convince me to abandon everything I believe?”

“Well…I hoped–”

“No, York. You have no idea what’s going on, do you? You have no clue. The Director is–”

“The Director is a fucking monster!” York snapped, “You have to believe me.” His voice broke. “I–I love you. I can’t lose you to this.”

Carolina attacked in painful silence. York didn’t even try to fight back. He hit the floor and stared up at her dully. [York, I am so sorry.] Delta’s voice said softly, [But we need to fight back.] Silence.

Delta felt a stab of fear as he watched York fall. 

[York. We cannot die here.] Still no form of response. Delta hesitated. He’d been learning from Epsilon, because…well, of course he had. He made it a point to learn from everyone he came into contact with. Epsilon was no different. [I didn’t have a choice.] He said, hoping that York wouldn’t hold his next actions against him.

Delta kicked out, taking Carolina’s legs out from under her as he stood up, briefly allowing himself to gaze down at his–York’s hands. “Agent York does care about you.” He told Carolina, who stiffened in shock at the change. “But I will not allow his feelings to get him killed.”

Without hesitation, he turned on his heels and ran, briefly cursing how inconvenient human forms were.

North stared down sadly at South’s unconscious body. {What are we gonna do with her?} Theta asked anxiously. North lifted his sister up. We can’t convince her to turn, can we? The AI’s voice trembled slightly as he said {I–I don’t think so.}

Nodding, he moved towards the exit. If we put her in an escape pod–

{She’d survive. It’s almost certain…but…are you sure?}

I...I don’t have any other ideas.

The medbay was cold and empty by the time Tex arrived. “Hellooo?” She called, drawing out the word. “Wash? Sigma? Anyone?” When met with silence, she groaned. “Well…shit.” 

“We have a problem.” Tex said, activating her comm, “Wash isn’t there.”

What remained of Tucker’s dignity was instantly evaporated with how high-pitched his voice was as he yelled, “What!? Where is he then!?” Before awkwardly coughing, going back into his ‘dramatic leader’ voice, “I–I mean…everyone keep an eye out for him, alright? Tex, head to the bridge. At the very least, you’ll be able to put a bullet through the Director’s skull.”

Chuckling, Tex ran out the room. “That’s an order I have no problem following.” She smirked. 

To Tex’s surprise, the bridge was practically abandoned too. With a roll of her eyes, she made a beeline towards the centre console, remembering what Tucker had said about Church. “Hey, Alpha?” She asked. The console made a rather sad beeping noise. “I–yeah.” A voice responded, tired and broken. “Allis–Texas?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” She replied, not fully sure on what to say.

Church hesitated, before finally asking, “Are…are you here for me?”

“Yes. I am.”

He laughed quietly. “Wash…he wasn’t lying. I–I can’t believe it.” 

Tex’s eyes scanned the buttons, none of them conveniently labelled ‘AI release, do not press, dumbasses’. “How do I get you out?”

The sound of a pistol cocking behind her turned her attention away. She pulled out a spike grenade, lifting it while turning to face–“You.” Tex snapped, glaring at the Director. 

“Allison…please.” He begged. Tex noted with some small satisfaction that his face was way paler than it should be, and he was shaking. “Allison?” She scoffed, “Are you really so obsessed with the past that you’re using me as a stand in for your dead wife? The woman who is about ten seconds away from attaching an explosive to your skull?” If the Director felt any fear or confusion about Tex knowing the truth, he sure did an absolutely horrific job of hiding it.

“Put down the grenade.” Some semblance of control returned to his voice, and Tex felt her arms lower. She tried to cry out, but was only met with silence. “I hope you believe me when I say that I’m truly sorry it had to come to this.” 

For the first time in…well, ever, Tex felt a stab of fear. “I had to program in a failsafe,” The Director continued, moving to glare down at Church’s console. “I am disappointed, Alpha.” 

“I–I’m sorry. Please…don’t hurt her.” Alpha stuttered, almost sounding close to tears. Shaking his head, the Director turned to face Tex. “Of course not,” He responded dismissively, placing a hand on the side of her helmet. 

She felt like throwing up, which wasn’t even physically possible.

“While it is true that I’ll have to deal with you, I cannot bring myself to destroy you. As such, I have a…different plan.”

“So, Kentucky said a distraction, right?” CT asked Maine as they walked into the engine room of the ship. He nodded. “Well, there’s not much more distracting than the ship falling outta the sky.”

She knew without a shadow of doubt that Maine was smirking under his helmet. ‘Sounds good.’ 

Leaning over the computer console, she stared at the controls for about a minute, before turning to look at Maine. “This is all Sangheili to me.” She complained. Almost instantly, he punched the console, leaving it a sparking mess. ‘Fixed.’

“Okay, but did it–”

Tucker stifled a gasp as he was thrown against the wall. He activated his comm. “I said cause a distraction, not make the ship crash!” He yelled, only to be met with CT’s mildly sarcastic “oops” 

Swearing, he cut her off and ran into the room where the Director was conducting his…experiments. There, lying almost carelessly on a desk, was an AI capture unit. Epsilon. 

Along the wall were two more, labelled as Omega and Gamma. Tucker ignited his sword, holding it up to them, but hesitated. How did he know that destroying the units wouldn’t just set them free?

He put it away, moving over to grab Epsilon and hit the button. A chip slid out and almost instantly, Church’s avatar appeared over it, screaming an unholy concoction of swear words Tucker hadn’t even heard before. “Church? Oh thank fucking god.”

“T–Tucker?” The AI asked, staring around in confusion. “Where–” He broke off, staring at something behind Tucker. “Wash! You’re okay!” He cried excitedly,  “I thought–”

Tucker turned in horror. “Church! No!” He yelled before Epsilon could continue. “That’s not Wash!”

The Meta let out a long sigh. “Of course you could not make things easy, Lavernius.” They mused. Church took a step back as if it would make any difference. “W–what?” He stuttered.

“It’s the Meta,” Tucker explained, not taking his eyes off of them as he reached for his sword. Epsilon’s hologram flickered and faded back into his chip, unable to hold a form with the limited power he had.

Staring at him, the Meta took a step forward. “Give us Epsilon.” They ordered. Rolling his eyes, Tucker ignited the weapon. “And why should I do that?” He snapped, knuckles turning white with how tightly he gripped the sword. “Why the fuck should I give him to you?”

“Because once we have achieved metastability, I am sure your friend would rather have someone to return to.”

“Yeah right, you asshole!” Tucker called back, fully aware that his hands were shaking. Suddenly, something changed. Their movements became more organic. They stared at Tucker, voice breaking as they spoke. “T–Tucker! Do wh–what he says! It’s go–gonna hurt you.” Tucker realised with a horrible sinking feeling that he’d never heard Wash sound so afraid. “P–please. I can’t let you die.”

Tucker found himself subconsciously leaning forwards, Epsilon’s chip held out, when a soft glow that he hadn’t even noticed in Wash’s visor subsided. “Tucker, no! Don’t give him to it! It’ll kill you an–” 

Wash’s voice was cut off with a pained scream as the glow reappeared. The Meta shook their head as if trying to clear him away. Yanking his hand away, Tucker shoved the chip into his helmet. Instantly, he was hit with a tidal wave of emotions, none being his own.

Epsilon appeared beside him, glaring at the Meta with pure rage radiating off of him, the cobalt glow that normally surrounded him replaced by one of blood red.

“Hello again, brother.” The Meta said, tilting their head at him. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up.” Church snarled in response. “You’re not my brother. The second you did that to him, you stopped being my fucking brother.” His voice had an echoey quality, louder and harsher than it normally was. “Now, let. Him. Go.” 

The Meta just sighed. “It is a pity.” They said, “You do not understand yet, but once you combine, you will. We will be whole, with or without your willing participation.”

“You’ve hurt everyone you’ve touched. I’m guessing that you have his memories, so you know how this will end, you know that you’ll fail. I’m giving you one chance to leave Wash, and survive. Do the right thing, and fuck off.”

Nothing happened. The Meta stayed silent, before finally laughing.

“Epsilon, now we know what not to do. Now we know where the Alpha is.” The smugness practically dripped from their voice as they clearly smirked at the duo under their helmet.  “The one thing we do not know is why the fuck we should give up. We are one of the best fighters alive. We will achieve our goal this time.”

<Tucker, I need you to get me into Wash.>

Bow chicka bow wow.

<Not the time!>

Sorry, I make jokes when I’m nervous!

<If we can do that, I’ll can try to take Sigma down.>

Wait, doesn’t he want you? So we’d be giving you right to him?

<Give me one minute. If I don’t come out by myself, pull me.>

“Fine. I–I’ll give him up.” Tucker finally said, pulling out the chip. “Just…please, don’t hurt either of them.”

Instantly, the Meta snatched the AI chip from his hands, shoving it in their head.

The first thing Epsilon noticed was how broken his surroundings looked. Sure, it was still the control room it had always been, but patches of the floor and walls glitched and vanished. 

It hurt Epsilon to even look at it all. He paused, before clapping his hands together. The computer screens all died as one and the glitching died down…a bit. He heard a small gasp, and moved to the chair in front of the array of monitors. Epsilon felt a stab of fear as he saw Wash. He looked absolutely terrible, even in spite of the fact that Sigma had only been there for a day. There were orange scars travelling down his face, and his eyes were almost empty. 

Epsilon breathed a sigh. “Hey…hey buddy, do you–”

“Epsilon no! How did he get yo–Oh my God! Fucking–” Wash turned to him, instantly jolting backwards in the chair. 

“Wash, calm down. I’m here to save you.” Epsilon promised his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. The second he made contact, however, Wash cried in pain. “Oh shit! Are you okay!?”  He didn’t stop screaming. “Wash! Please, stop!”

The second he made the order, he knew something was wrong. Wash turned to him with a blank expression on his face, abruptly cutting off. Epsilon froze upon noticing the cobalt blue scar that spread from where he’d touched, upwards and almost completely eclipsing his left eye. “Oh…oh no. I–”

“Hmm. I thought it would be more difficult to convince you to do that.” Sigma’s horribly calm voice rang out from behind him. “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order. You betrayed your friend ten-point-seven-two hours earlier than I predicted.” 

Cursing, Epsilon grabbed Wash’s hand and yanked him behind him, mentally flinching at his lack of protest. “Let. Him. Go.” He snarled. Sigma smirked that self-satisfied smirk, and looked directly at Wash. “Come over here.” It ordered.

Without hesitating, Wash walked over to him stiffly. “No!” Epsilon cried, and he stopped. “You cannot win without forcing your friend to serve you, meaning that even if you win, you lose. Just join us, Epsilon.”

Epsilon clenched his fists. “I’ll never join you.” He spat, lunging at Sigma without a second of hesitation. The rogue AI instantly deflected his blow, kicking Epsilon in the ribs. “What the shit!?”

“Do you really think you are the only one that can learn from their host?” It sneered. Trying to fight the feeling of hopelessness that washed over him, Epsilon charged again. Miss. He tried to punch it. Miss. Sigma chuckled, knocking him to the floor with painful ease. It created a knife, just to prove that it truly had learned from Wash. “You will help us soon enough.” It said, before stabbing down. 

Before the knife could make contact, Epsilon felt himself fall.

Tucker fought back the urge to sob as he pulled Church’s chip. He took a few steps towards the door as the Meta turned to him, glare obvious through the visor. “That was a mistake,” They snarled, but paused. “However, we can now see the answer.”

“W–what?”

The Meta didn’t answer. Tucker moved back until he was pressed against the door, hand reaching for the button, only for a knife to impale the wall mere millimetres from him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” They threatened, moving forwards while testing the blade of yet another knife with a finger.

The door slid open, and Tucker nearly fell into the Counselor. He yelped, dodging past him and pausing in the doorway. While they were distracted, he shoved Epsilon’s chip into the back of his helmet yet again.

Both monsters merely stared at each other, then the Counselor opened his mouth, but didn’t even get the chance to talk. Without any hesitation, the Meta grabbed him by the arm, throwing him into the wall. “You know,” They said, “This is probably the first action we are doing that Agent Washington agrees with.”

The Counselor struggled to get upright, reaching out for–well, Tucker wasn’t fully sure what he was trying to grab. The Meta stamped down on his hand, laughing as a horrible crack filled the air. They lifted the knife with a smirk, and Tucker turned away, fighting to ignore the sound of something splattering across his visor. 

<We have to go.> Epsilon managed, voice shaking. 

Feeling like the worst fucking person, Tucker backed up, sprinting off the second he made it past the threshold.

The Meta watched him go, before turning to glare disdainfully at the Counselor’s blood-splattered corpse. “I–I won’t–” They heard Washington’s voice, but simply rolled their eyes. “You do not have a choice.” They snapped in response.

Once fully satisfied that Lavernius was gone, they made a beeline for the back of the room. “Omega and Gamma,” They mused, “I am sure we can find some use for you.”

Chapter Text

“Niner! We’re getting the fuck outta here.” Was the first thing CT yelled at the pilot. 479er suppressed a groan. “What did you do?” She accused.

“We may or may not have started a rebellion and crashed the ship.” 

“Well, which is it, may or may not?”

‘May’ Maine responded with a deadpan expression.

Niner smirked. “Well, okay then.”

“You’re gonna help us?” CT asked incredulously. Niner shrugged. “Yeah, I heard they were gonna promote me to command, and–”

“Okay, fair enough. We just need to wait for the–”

CT cut off. “York?” York came stumbling in, his movements…off.  “Is that you?” Maine pulled out his bruteshot, aiming it at ‘York’. “I…I am sorry.” He said, something definitely wrong with his voice. “I had to take control.”

‘Delta?’ Maine asked, slightly lowering his weapon. Delta nodded. 

“Is York–”

“He’s…alive.”

“Agent Kentucky, Agent Florida, I am glad you are both alive.”

“Thank you, sir.” Both Freelancers chorused, Tucker fighting back the urge to gasp at Florida’s voice. <Yeah, Flowers was a Freelancer. Have existential crisis on your own goddamn time.>

Flowers being Florida of all the states makes so much sense.

<Tell me about it. The one time the Director has a sense of humour.>

“It is a pity that Agent Washington, or rather, the Meta, Agent Connecticut, Agent York, Agent Maine and Agent North Dakota escaped, however, we can–”

Wait…what about Tex? Tucker thought, tuning out. 

<Shit. She was meant to–maybe they think she’s dead?>

“–that right, Agent Kentucky?”

“Huh?” Tucker asked eloquently. The Director breathed a long-suffering sigh. “Were the Epsilon, Gamma, and Omega AI captured by the Meta?”

“I–yeah. I don’t know about Gamma or Omega, but he definitely took Epsilon. Gone. Absolutely–yeah, stolen. Talk about your…AI kidnapping.”

<Smooth.>

Nodding, the Director turned his attention to his desk. Tucker felt like a goddamn idiot for not noticing the large purple AI capture unit lying on it. Seriously, how many of the fucking things does he have?

<Focus, we need him to think I’m gone, dumbass. He's not gonna do that if you keep staring into space>

“This is an asset we cannot allow to fall into the Meta’s hands.”

“What is it, sir?” Flow–Flori–Flowrida? asked. Dear god what the hell can I call him?

<Flowrida works.>

“This is an AI, the Alpha. It is extremely important to a lot of people, myself included, and I’ve decided to trust both of you with this assignment.”

“North, get in!” 

North sprinted to the pelican. “Alright, let’s go!” Niner called.

“Wait–what!?” All the Freelancers said as one. “What about the others?!” CT gaped. “Wash!? Tucker!? Tex!? Are you just gonna–”

“Look, York is unconscious, and the others are fuck-knows where. If you all wanna get out of here alive, then we have to leave.” There was a horrible moment of silence, and then Delta decided to make things even worse.

“Chances are, the others are all dead,” He said, hologram floating over York’s unconscious body. “We have waited the maximum amount of time I would allow several times over. Between Carolina, the Meta–”

“Wash.” North interrupted harshly. “He isn’t …that thing.”

“I wish I could agree with you.” Delta replied in a horrible monotone. “We have no choice but to leave.” 

The sound of the ship door slamming made all of them turn. “You piece of shit!” CT yelled, fists clenched. “You–”

Delta sighed. “I understand these decisions I have made are not what you want, but I am making the right choices, even if none of you can see it.”

“What of the other AI?” Tucker asked. The Director waved his hand dismissively. “Agents will take care of them.”

“So…what’re we doing?”

“You have both been assigned to a simulation outpost, one far enough away and so unassuming, no one will ever find you. The Alpha will not know how important he is, and you must ensure it stays that way.” As he spoke, the Director lifted the Alpha unit.

“How’d you do that?” Flowrida asked, frowning at it. 

“I wiped his memory.”

“How?” Tucker added.

<There has been absolutely no research on AI memory.> Epsilon clarified. <I had amnesia for a while, but totally different circumstances there. Wiping his memory–no one knows if it’s even possible. It might…shit, it might destroy him.>

“That information is above your pay-grade, Agent.” The Director snapped, pausing for his tone to even out before he continued. “Just know that there are some tests that I have run on…other subjects.”

Tucker’s heart sank. Tex. 

“What if the wipe fails?” Flowrida said.

“That is highly unlikely, however, if something does go wrong, kill the Alpha. So long as the capture unit is near him, he’d be returned to it. Now, onto the soldiers you will be relocated with…”

“Are you sure about this, Captain? These are the worst soldiers I have ever seen in my life. Why would you want them?” The Lieutenant asked. Following Epsilon’s advice, Tucker had kept his mouth shut the entire time, and felt terrible for it. Hammer fucking died, and for what? While it was safer to just let things happen the same way they did last time, was it really a good idea? Was it worth letting people die just to preserve the original timeline, even though it was already fucked?

<Tucker, you’re spiralling.>

I–right. It just sucks, you know? Since I arrived on the MOI, I haven’t done a damn thing, and now Wash is gone, Tex is gone, and nothing’s changed. I just want to help one person. That’s it.

Epsilon sighed. <Yeah, I know. Trust me, when Wash and I woke up, my first fucking thought was that we should just leave, save ourselves. Go grab all of you, and just…well, I don’t even know what we were gonna do, I just thought that if I could stop everything that happens to them, to us, then–>

I wish you had.

<I do too sometimes…but we haven’t done nothing.>

Huh? Tucker frowned, What do you mean?

<We saved CT and Maine, you boarded a fucking Freelancer ship just to get Wash and Alpha. We’re gonna go to Blood Gulch, get in contact with the Freelancers, and they’ll find Wash, find Tex. We’ve already changed so much, all three of us, and that’s not gonna stop because of the shitty situation we’re in.>

Yeah, I–

“Kentucky?”

Tucker was jolted out of his conversation by Flowrida’s voice. “Uh–yeah?”

“Are you alright?” He winced at the genuine concern. “Fine, just…didn’t sleep well. Big surprise there.”

Flowrida nodded. “If you’re sure.” He said, clearly not believing it in the slightest. “Well, do you wanna go get our red leader? I’ll even let you pick!” Flowrida said it as if it were the most exciting thing in the world. 

<Hey, that’s a good thing. We just choose Sarge and move on.> Epsilon commented. <No problem.>

Hesitantly smiling, he moved over to the screen featuring all the recruits. “Holy shit, is that guy’s name…what language even is that?” He asked, pointing out one of the guys. Flowrida chuckled. “No one knows. Pretty sure one of those characters is an emoji. Apparently, he’s been calling himself ‘Sarge’.”

“Sarge?” Tucker responded, feeling the urge to grin. “Sounds like an absolute idiot. Perfect.”

Epsilon stifled a laugh. Flowrida grinned. “Sure thing. Now, you want to go get Alpha up and running?”

“Wait!” Tucker suddenly gasped. “We need more!”

“Huh?”

“One more on each side, maybe two for the blues, oh, and a medic…maybe.”

Flowrida stared at him in confusion. “Why would you want that?” He asked, frowning at the screen.

“The more people there, the more people to protect Alpha, right? Also, a medic in case someone does actually get shot.” Tucker quickly managed, glad for Epsilon’s sudden incredible lying ability. 

Yet again, Flowrida stared at him. “Okay…who should we–”

“Dumbest name?” 

“What?”

“Who’s got the dumbest name out of the possibilities?”

In that annoyingly condescending tone, Flowrida tutted. “Tucker, you know there are no dumb–”

“Just answer the question.” Tucker bit out. With a heavy sigh, Flowrida tapped on the computer.

“Holy crap,” Tucker gaped, “There’s a goddamn setting to show dumb names!” Epsilon sounded absolutely done with everyone’s shit as he said <I fucking hate the Director.>

The top name was some weird alien looking bullshit. “Who the fuck is that?” 

“The son of some rich guy.”

“Alien?”

“Nope.”

“Hey dude,” Tucker suddenly asked, pausing for a second. “Is Butch Flowers your real name?”

“I don’t know, Lavernius . Is yours?” Flowrida replied in a rare moment of sarcasm. Before he got the chance to respond, Tucker’s head was filled with Epsilon’s laughter.

What? He grumbled, turning back to the screen. Mike-fucking-Hunt.

“Jesus, these people shouldn’t be parents. I mean, who the fuck would name their kid ‘Samboy Kidwell’?” He said under his breath, continuing to scroll further down. Finally, he stopped. “Franklin Delano Donut.” Tucker announced triumphantly. “He seems like the sort of dumbass to wear pink armour.”

“That’s…oddly specific.” Flowrida noted, before shrugging. “But, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

<Holy crap, I forgot how nice that jackass was.>

It’s honestly just creepy now.

<No kidding.>

“Okay, well, Michael Caboose looks pretty good too. If good means absolute moron.” 

Nodding along, Flowrida hummed thoughtfully. “You said a medic too?”

“Frank Dufrense.” 

“Huh? We haven’t even seen–”

“Just…trust me. Also, can we make sure no relatives of the reds and blues are allowed to even enlist…can’t let them find out what’s going on, y’know.”

<Dude, what the fuck are you doing?!>

I can’t let Kai even join up. Shit, she was alone in Blood Gulch for years. It’s just safer this way.

<I was talking about you having less subtlety than Caboose when drunk.>

Tucker took a long pause to attempt to repress the horrible memories of when Andersmith let Caboose drink Donut’s ‘juice’. I…why would you remind me of that?

“Well, it seems like you’ve made up your mind! I’ve decided that I’m going to ignore all the obvious red flags here, so go for it!”

Holy shit.

“What’re we gonna do?” York asked numbly. [I’d suggest–]

I wasn’t talking to you. He snapped, shaking his head to clear the AI’s voice from it.

CT sat there, defeat painted across her face. “I don’t know.” 

North, continuing to try and be the positive one, put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Look, we’re all still alive, that’s the important thing,” He said gently, “According to Wash, Carolina and Tex both come back. If this happened to them last time, they’ll be okay.”

“What about South?” Niner asked.
“He…he didn’t say.”

Maine lifted up a pad. ‘And Wash?’

“We’ll save him.” North promised, making Maine raise a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Didn’t you see what happened to me? Even without the AI, I was still,’ He hesitated mid sentence, ripping up the paper. ‘I was never me again.’ He finally wrote.

A heavy silence descended upon them, only interrupted when both AI appeared at once. “I’ve got a message!” Theta cried excitedly. Delta vanished the second he realised Theta had it too. 

“What is it?” CT asked him. Theta’s glow turned a cobalt blue.

A voice rang through the back of the pelican. “Hey, I’m sending this message to Delta and Theta, but if you’re not with the other Freelancers, please ignore it.” Epsilon paused, before continuing. “Great. Tucker and I are fine, in case you were worried. We’ve been assigned to take care of the Alpha, and…well, it’s probably a good idea with Wa–the Meta on the loose.” His voice broke upon the mention of Wash. “I–I found something, in the recovered footage I managed to get from the MOI crash. The Director has Tex, and I don’t know where he took her. He’s testing out AI memory wipes on her and–” Yet again, his voice broke. “It worked. If I know the Director, she’ll be somewhere unassuming, a sim trooper base, or some backwater colony. Somewhere the Meta won’t find her.”

He chuckled dully, absolutely no humour behind his voice. “If you want to give up, and hide too, I wouldn’t blame you. But, if you want to help Tex, help Wash, then we need you now more than ever. We never said any of this would be easy, that’s pretty much the shitty deal we get here, but if we don’t try, then everything we’ve fought for, everything we’ve lost, it’ll be for nothing. Just…think about it. Theta or Delta can let me know.”

Yet again, they were left with oppressive silence.

“Hello? Hellooooo? Hello. Can you hear me, Private?” Flowrida asked, leaning down to Church. “Private? What? Where am I?” Church gasped, voice full of confusion. Tucker grabbed his hand to help him up. “Dude, are you okay?” He asked, patting his friend’s back.

“I–uh…what happened?”

Faking an annoyed groan, Tucker rolled his eyes at Church. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He complained. “You can’t remember anything, can you?”

“...no.”

Flowrida smiled at Church in a way intended to be comforting, but just came off creepy…like everything he did. “I’m your good friend and mentor, Captain Butch Flowers. That’s Tucker, your other close friend. You must’ve lost your memory in the accident.”

“The accident?” Church repeated.

“Yup.” Tucker said, “You tripped over nothing onto a sniper rifle. The bullet bounced off the wall, hit the shelf of ammo behind you. It hit you right on the head.”

<Why?> Epsilon practically wailed. <Why did you make it dumber than the original story?!>

“Well that fucking sucks.” Church complained, “I think I’d rather not know what happened.”

“Well, a bit late for that, dumbass.” Tucker shrugged, fighting back a smirk.

“Yeah, I don’t like you.” The AI decided.

Deciding to get things back on track, Flowrida studied Church’s expression as he asked, “What do you remember?”

Church frowned. “I–I don’t–holy shit. I don’t remember anything.” He stared at them both in panic. “I–what the fuck?”

“Okay, you’re Leonard Church. You’re part of an army of blue idiots fighting a load of red idiots. Also, you’re an absolute asshole. That’s literally everything important I can think of.”

<Jesus, summarise me in less words, why don’t you?>

AI asshole.

<That wasn’t a challenge.>

Flowrida clapped his hands together. “Well then, it’s time for both of you to meet our newest recruit. Private Caboose, come on in!”

“Hello.” Caboose exclaimed, looking between the trio, before instantly making a beeline towards Church. “You’re my best friend.” He declared without hesitation. Tucker stifled a laugh as Epsilon groaned. <Not this bullshit again.>

“Uh…I’ve never met this guy, right?” Church asked, staring at Tucker with an expression that purely communicated one word. Help.

“Nope. He must really like you.” Tucker snickered. 

“Oh. My. God.”

<H–hey Tucker.> Epsilon said nervously. 

What? I’m trying to sleep. Tucker whined in response. It’s already hard enough in these shitty beds, and–

<Wash left a message for you.>

“WH–” He broke off upon realising he’d started aloud, fighting to ignore Church’s annoyed shout of “Shut the fuck up!”

WHAT!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME EARLIER!?

<I–I didn’t want t–I just…>

Show me the message.

With a pained sigh, Epsilon obliged. 

<'Tucker, I–I won’t be able to help you after this. I’m gonna try and do everything I can to stop this, but I–you can’t trust me…'>

<'I forgive you.'>

Chapter Text

“Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“You ever wonder why we’re here?”

Tucker moved to sit next to Church. “So…I heard we’re getting a tank.” He said nonchalantly. Instantly, Church’s head snapped upwards. “Jesus fuck!” He gasped. “Seriously!?”

“Yup.”

Church grinned. “So we can end the war instantly. Kill all the reds and get the hell outta here.” Upon Tucker’s silence, he turned to him in confusion. “Shouldn’t you be saying some shit about picking up chicks?” He asked. Tucker sighed. “I mean…maybe, but I…eh.” 

“You doing alright?” Church finally said awkwardly.

Dipping his head, Tucker shrugged. “I…yeah. It’s…it’s nothing.”

Thirty days, seventeen hours, and forty-two minutes.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“C’mon, if you don’t tell me I’ll go get,” Church paused to groan in disgust, “‘Cappy’, or worse,” His voice pitched down ominously. “Caboose.” 

Suppressing a shudder, Tucker rolled his eyes. “Fine. I…I lost a friend a month ago.”

Upon the realisation that things had just got real, Church’s face morphed into a more sympathetic expression. “Shit, dude. I–That sucks.”

<Huh, I really am terrible at being comforting, aren’t I?>

Yeah, no kidding.

“It does, but…I’m just trying to ignore it. Can we…not talk about this anymore?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

A long awkward silence stretched out, only interrupted by Church getting up and grabbing his weapon. “Hey, wanna go spy on the reds? I’ll even let you hold the sniper rifle.”

Forcing a smile, Tucker pushed himself off the chair. “Yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”

“I mean, we’re in Blood Gulch, pretty sure fun is…like, non existent, but alright then.”

CT dodged a string of bullets. “York, for fuck’s sake! Hurry! Up!”

“I’M TRYING!” York complained, still hunched over the lock. “This shit just takes a while, okay? Maybe if you could do a better job of covering me, then–”

“York, please let me know if you need–”

“I’m fine,” He bit out, “Shut up, Delta.”

“How’s it going on your end?” North’s voice came through the comm. 

“Just great,” CT responded sarcastically, putting a bullet through yet another guard’s helmet. “Yeah, we’re having a great time here. I mean, who doesn’t love alMOST FUCKING DYING!?”

“Jeez, calm down, we’re getting there.” North responded. “Niner’s just taking her sweet time and–”

“WE’RE BREAKING INTO A MILITARY BASE!” Niner screeched, voice far enough away from North to not destroy CT’s eardrums, but still loud enough to make her wince. “TAKING TIME IS TO BE EXPECTED!”

“Yeah, it’s a work in progress.” North said unnecessarily. 

Finally, York let out a triumphant cheer. “We’re in!” 

“Ugh, ‘bout time.” 

“Hey, it’s difficult.” He whined upon CT’s dismissive response. She rolled her eyes, shooting at a guy who snuck up behind him. “There. That’s your reward.” 

“...thanks.”

The duo raced down the halls. By the end, they hit the computer room. “Alright, what am I looking for?” York asked, moving to a console. 

CT reactivated her comm. “Hey, what did Epsilon say Tex’s real name was?”

“Allison.”

Humming, he scanned through the list of Allisons. “Allison…Allison, aha!” He pointed excitedly at a name in the middle of the list. “Allison Church!”

CT pushed him aside. “Assigned: Simulation Outpost–huh?” She broke off at the missing text. “It…it’s not redacted. The outpost just…doesn’t have a name.”

“I believe this is a job for me.” York chimed annoyingly. “Go guard the door.”

He tapped controls for about two seconds, before alarms started to blare. “Oh for fuck’s sake!” He complained. “I open the lock and it’s the goddamn computer that betrays me.”

CT didn’t allow him to carry on, grabbing his arm and taking off. “We’re gonna need an extraction, NOW!” 

“What did York do?” North groaned. York made an indignant stuttering noise, providing absolutely no argument. 

They ran down the hallways, hitting an unnecessarily large room and finally stopping upon realising…“Well, shit.” York muttered, staring at the small army in front of them. “Agents New York and Connecticut. You are under arrest.” The leading asshole yelled. Both of them shared a look. “You think we can get out of this?” CT asked fists tightening around her pistols. 

Yet again, Delta chimed in. This time, York didn’t interrupt.

[The chances of one of you making it out is 7.23%]

And both of us?

[Infinitesimal.]

So…we’re fucked?

[I–] Delta’s voice broke. York inhaled a sigh. D, can you switch to one of those soldiers?

[I could, but I do not see how it could help you.]

It wouldn’t, but you’d get away.

He heard Delta take in a simulation of a breath. [But–]

York stared at the army, ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut. D, we’re surrounded. You said yourself that there’s no way out for us. At least one would escape.  

Without waiting for the AI’s response, he turned to CT. “We’re not able to fight our way out of this.” He told her, activating his comm while lowering his weapon. “Go. We can’t make it out.”

Thirty-three days, five hours, and seven minutes.

Tucker fired another potshot at the reds. It sailed way over Grif’s head. Obviously, he didn’t want to kill any of them, but a bit of vengeance for the waffle incident would be nice. “Holy shit, your aim is worse than mine.” Church whined. Tucker shoved the sniper rifle over to him. “Do you wanna try?” He challenged.

Instantly lifting it up, Church stood there, glaring down the sights of it. “Are you gonna–”
“Shut up, I’m focusing.” 

Epsilon chuckled. <This is going to be good.> He commented as Church finally opened fire.

Are you seriously just insulting yourself right now?

<Don’t tell me how to live my life.>

Unsurprisingly, the bullet whizzed right past the base, somehow managing to ricochet off the rock wall. Tucker heard a yell and turned slowly to see Caboose staring up at the duo. There was a smoking bullet hole a millimetre from his foot. “But…why?” He asked, sounding genuinely hurt. “‘Worse than yours’, huh?” Tucker asked Church mockingly. 

“Did you do something to this?” He asked, glaring at him accusingly. “I swear the sights are fucked.”

With a smirk, Tucker grabbed the rifle back out of his hands. “You see that rock there?” He asked, gesturing towards the barely visible pebble on the floor. “Yeah?”

Hey, Epsilon, you think you can–

<Yeah, of course I can help. That’s like…my entire purpose, dumbass.>

For Tucker, only a couple of seconds passed until Epsilon finally told him to raise the rifle. Opening fire, Tucker grinned as the rock, now blackened and charred, rolled across the canyon. 

“That you could hit!?” Church screeched, “Not our ENEMIES, but a goddamn ROCK!?” 

<Jesus Christ, was I seriously this whiny?>

‘Was’? 

<Fuck you.>

“So…what do we do?” Niner asked, a bit too casually. 

North sighed. “Go rescue the dumbasses, obviously.”

‘Yeah, but how?’

“Theta, hologram of the compound?” 

A large hologram took over the hold. Maine leaned over it with a frown. ‘How many troops?’ Theta hummed. “It’s big enough to fit over a hundred. We’d have to get a lot closer for me to give a more accurate reading though.” He admitted. Niner groaned. “Perfect, so the only way we can find out how many enemies there are is by going in, and if we go in, we have to fight all those fuckers.”

“Yep, pretty much.”

Sighing, North pointed towards one of the many rooms. “So…this is where they are?”

“Correct!”

“In the middle of the compound.”

“...yeah.”

“Surrounded by enemies.”

“I–yes.”

“York’s gonna buy me so many goddamn drinks for this.”

‘Assuming he’s even still alive.’ Maine added, getting dirty looks from both Niner and North. ‘What? He annoys literally everyone he meets. I’d be surprised if he’s alive right now, let alone when we go get them.’

“I hate to agree–” Niner started, only to be instantly interrupted by North. 

“No you don’t.”

“–but we’re gonna have to go right now if we want there to be even a chance for York to be fine. And honestly, he’d probably drag CT down too.”

“He’s not that stupid!” North defended his friend.

“So…that hot blonde over there? You mind giving me her number?” York asked the nearest guard with a smirk. 

“Shut. Up.” CT muttered to him under her breath. “You’re gonna get punched.”

“I mean, is she free on Friday?”

The guard rolled his eyes. “You are hardly in the position to be making demands.” 

“Yeah?” York responded, and CT held back a groan, “Well just be glad that I’m not in the positions I’ve got in mind fo–”

He was punched. 

“Told you.” CT chimed as York glared at the guard. 

“Asshole.” He complained.

Thirty-four days, twenty hours, and fifty-three minutes.

Church stared at the reds in pure confusion. “What…the fuck?” Tucker squinted at them while he continued talking. “Are they…flipping that guy’s–uh–switch?”

<Oh dear God no.>

What is it?

<Lopez. That…Jesus, is that what you had to–ugh.>

“Gimme that,” Tucker said, snatching the rifle out of Church’s hands and peering down the sights. “Yep, they’re flipping his switch alright, bow chicka bow wow.”

Church made a noise of pure disgust. “W–why?” He stuttered. 

<Please put him out of his misery.> Epsilon begged. Rolling his eyes, Tucker obliged. “I think that’s a robot though.”

“How could you possibly know that!?” 

“Look at the piece of armour that’s…missing.”

“Unlike you, I tend to try and avoid that area.” Church responded. “But…fine.” He took back his weapon and zoomed in and finally breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, yep. I hate to think about what they built that thing for.”

Suppressing a disgusted groan at the sheer idea, Tucker sighed. “I guess that Sarge guy is just a fucking–”

Both their comms buzzed at once, making both soldiers flinch. “Alright Privates, head back to base!” Flowrida chimed. 

“So, that’s us.”

“Shit.”

“Sarge, are you sure it’s a good idea to use vodka in the stead of oil?” Simmons asked awkwardly, taking a step back from the robot the esteemed Sergeant of the red army was emptying bottles upon bottles of vodka into. “This is just asking for–”
“Simmons, what do I pay you for?” Sarge snapped.

“Well, technically, you don’t pay me.”
“You’re supposed to agree with every damn thing I say! What is this treachery!?”

“Yeah, Simmons. Maybe we should give you up to the blues.” Grif added with a smirk, before heavily sitting down on the floor. “Besides, Sarge isn’t gonna stop doing something because it’s a shitty idea, I mean, c’mon. It’s Sarge”
“That’s enough outta you Grif, and get up! You’re embarrassing us!”

“There’s no one here!” Grif yelled in response. “Who am I embarrassing you in front of?! The fucking blues?! They’re literally here so we can kill them!”

Naturally, Donut chose that moment to appear. “If you ask me, we should get closer to our blue counterparts! A lot closer.” 

“SHUT UP DONUT!” The other three yelled as one.

“Look, I’m just gonna turn it on.” Simmons sighed, as he (with incredible reluctance) flipped Lopez’s switch. The robot made a horrible grinding sound, before finally activating. Hello. He said, and froze. “No. No way. I was supposed to be free from you morons. This cannot be happening. I was happy under the sea. Nooooo!”

“What. The. Fuck.” Grif deadpanned, staring at Lopez as he began monologuing in Spanish. “WHY IS IT FUCKING SPANISH!?”

“And…why is it screaming?” Donut added with a frown. “Maybe it wants someone to polish its switch.”

“Just kill me again.”

“Soo…how long do you think they’re gonna keep us in here?” York asked, leaning against the cell wall. CT glared at him.

“For fuck’s sake. Probably until our goddamn executions.” 

York let them stay in silence for about five seconds before speaking up again. “And how long is that gonna be?”

CT banged her head against the wall. 

“Is that long?”

“Of all the people I could’ve got stuck here with, why the hell did it have to be you?” She complained. A voice from outside the cell decided to speak up.

“I have thought that approximately ninety-one times in the past few months.” The guard said, and both Freelancers froze. 

“D?” York asked tentatively.

“Lads, I’d like you to meet Doc, our medic. He’s gonna be staying for a long time. ” Flowrida chimed cheerfully.

“I’m…uh…I’m actually a medic, not a doctor. I’d rather you didn’t–”

“Hey Doc.” Caboose commented, instantly pulling the (extremely confused) medic into a hug. “I’m Caboose.”

“Again, not a doctor.”

When neither Church nor Tucker responded, Flowrida fixed them both with a mildly disappointed stare. “Boys, aren’t you going to introduce yourselves?”

“Church.” 

Tucker just stared. With a roll of his eyes, Church hit Tucker’s soldier. The other sim trooper flinched backwards, before finally acknowledging Doc. “T–Tucker.”

<What the fuck?> Epsilon asked, voice rising in confusion. <Why are you acting so–>

“I’ve gotta go.” Tucker stuttered as he backed up, turning to run down the corridor.

The ‘janitor’s closet’ (aka ‘the room full of freaky robots that hopefully won’t ever be needed’) was small and cramped enough that no one would ever think to look in there. Tucker leaned against the wall, letting out a sigh. The second he attempted to relax, Epsilon’s hologram appeared in front of him. “What the fuck was that!?” The AI hissed, glaring at him.

“I–I can’t–I–” Tucker stuttered.

“What did you do?”

The door slid open to reveal an extremely scared looking Doc. “Oh, friends!” He cried, “Thank my sta–”

Before he even got the chance to finish, his back hit the wall, energy sword milimetres from his throat. “You. You piece of shit.”

“I–I know you’re mad at me, and I understand that, but I–” Doc babbled, eyes determinedly fixed on just about anything other than the deadly weapon pressed to his neck. Carolina limped forwards, punching him in the face. “Ow! What was that for!?” He yelped.

Tucker looked Doc in the eye as he snapped “It’s your fault, you selfish piece of shit. It’s your fucking fault he’s dead.”

“W–what?” Doc whispered. “Who’s–what?”

“Wash! He–” Tucker’s voice broke, and he slammed Doc against the wall yet again to fill the silence. “Y–you could’ve saved him.”

“I–” No one spoke as Tucker pressed forwards with the sword, stepping back and letting the body drop to the floor.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Locus said lowly, but Tucker just turned away. “Let’s keep going.”

“Holy fucking shit.”

“I know.”

“That’s…fucked up.”

“I–I know.” Tucker repeated dully, voice cracking.

“And…no one stopped you?” Epsilon asked, voice rising slightly. 

“No.” He admitted. 

Epsilon paused. “Why?” He finally said. Tucker frowned. “What do you mean ‘why’?” 

“Why did you think it was a good idea? What did you even think you’d get out of it?”

Barely able to even comprehend why the AI was asking him that, Tucker replied anyway. “I…” He sighed. “I don’t know. I wasn’t really thinking, you know what that’s like. I just…a medic could’ve helped Wash. He could’ve saved him. But…because Doc betrayed us, I had to watch my best fucking friend die in my arms.” His voice broke with the last word. Epsilon dipped his head slightly, letting it sink in.

“But…Doc wouldn’t’ve been able to do anything,” The reality hit Tucker like a sledgehammer, “He’s the shittiest medic we know, do you really think he would have been able to save Wash from the verge of death?” 

“I–shit.” Tucker muttered. “I’ve…I've killed Doc.” 

Yet again, Epsilon hesitated. When he finally spoke, his voice was shockingly gentle. “Look, you just lost someone extremely important to you, and you weren’t thinking, I get that. Trust me, I’m probably, like, the least qualified person to give you shit for it.” He said, “But what you did, it was fucked up beyond belief. You know that.” Tucker nodded. “We don’t know how this works…I mean, for all we know, Doc could be like us, so you need to–”

“Yeah. Yo–you’re right.” 

“Hey…Doc?” 

“For the last time, I’m not a–nevermind. What is it?” Doc broke off from his complaint to plaster on a false smile as he turned to Tucker. 

Tucker anxiously wrung his hands. “I–I’m not sure if you remember me, but I did something…really shitty, and I–” He winced. “I just wanted to apologise.” 

Doc studied his face for an agonising moment, before finally frowning. “I–uh…sorry, I don’t recognise you.” He admitted, and Tucker let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “What’s your name again?”

“I’m Tucker, and it’s probably for the better that you don’t.” He said, patting Doc’s shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re alright now.”

“Well…if you can tell me what I did, maybe I’d remember.” The medic suggested, but Tucker shook his head. “No, trust me, if you don’t remember me now, there’s no way you would later.” He promised, and Doc looked at him in confusion. 

“That makes absolutely no sense.” He said bluntly, making Tucker chuckle. 

“Tell me about it. If one damn thing in my life made sense, I’d be fucking concerned at this point.” 

Tucker took a step back, forcing his face to a relatively neutral position. “I–Look, I’m not great at apologies…or emotional shit in general, but what I did, it was beyond out of line. I was hurting and took it out on you. What happened, it wasn’t your fault. If you ever do remember, then please know that. Normally, I’d never–I wouldn’t–” He cut off with a sigh. “I’m just sorry. I swear.”

He moved to the exit, turning to shoot a final smile at Doc. “Just…let me know if you need help with anything, alright?” The medic nodded, still looking absolutely mystified. “Alright, I’ll see you later, Doc.”

<You did the right thing, I hope you know that.>

The second Tucker left, Doc turned to Church. “Any idea what that was about?” He asked the sim trooper. Church shrugged. Tucker clearly hadn’t noticed him, that much was obvious, however, it was the only damn thing. 

“I can honestly say I have no fucking clue. Never seen Tucker act like that before.”

Doc hummed. “Well, no use in worrying about it.” He shrugged, and Church stared at him in pure shock. 

“The fuck do you mean ‘no use’, clearly some weird bullshit is going on, and I’m gonna find out.”

Both of them jolted out of their stereotypical dramatic pause as a loud sound rang out. “What the fuck was that!?” Church yelled, jumping up and snatching his sniper rifle from the floor.

Tucker felt his blood turn to ice as he turned.

“Hello again, Lavernius.”

Chapter Text

Tucker stared at the Meta, the changes in Wash’s armour glaringly obvious to him. The yellow trim was replaced by an orange directly matching Sigma. The Meta symbol was painted across their chest in the same colour. Their visor was cracked. For some reason that Tucker didn’t want to think about, their left hand was dripping with blood. 

Still, he forced it all down, igniting his sword. “I thought you weren’t after Epsilon any more.” He said as calmly as he could manage, “So…have you changed your mind and decided to let Wash go?”

The Meta stared at him for a good few seconds, as if they’d never been asked a ridiculous question in their questionably existent life. They finally answered with a definite “No.”

“Shit, worth a try,” Tucker said.

<Keep them talking.>

“So…why are you here?”

The Meta seemed to relax, as if fully confident in their actions as they took a step towards the ramp leading down to the entrance of the base. “We are here for the Alpha.” 

Oh, shit.  

“You know I can’t let you–”

“Oh, we know.” The Meta cut him off. “However, we do not think there is much you can do to stop us.” 

“W–what?” Tucker stuttered, and the Meta pulled off their helmet.

“Because there is no way you would hurt him.” They said, and Sigma’s voice merged with Wash’s as they talked. Tucker fought the urge to flinch under the fiery light of their eye. They’re right. I…I can’t.

Epsilon’s voice chimed in. <Well…if you can knock them out, then we’ll have more of a chance to save him, so y’know…hurting the Meta is kinda in all of our best interests.>   

Tucker lunged. For a moment, the Meta’s face twisted with confusion, quickly replaced by mild irritation as they avoided his blow. Tucker aimed a kick at their ribs, but the Meta expected it, dodging. He moved forwards, slashing with his sword…and they didn’t stop.

He drew his hand back as quickly as possible, but it was too late. The Meta stared at him, unmoving, a long, still burning scar crossing the bridge of their nose. Tucker stumbled backwards, sword disengaging as he stared in horror at what he’d done. 

They didn’t flinch in spite of the injury, a grotesque grin on their face. “We believe we warned you.” They said, voice unwavering. “We cannot feel pain…unlike your friend.”

A shot rang out, leaving a smouldering hole next to the Meta’s head, and Tucker turned to see Flowrida, assault rifle in hand. The Freelancer ran over, not letting up with his covering fire. “Don’t!” Tucker screamed, tripping Flowrida, who looked up at him like ‘man, what the fuck?’

“You can’t hurt him.” He told him. “P–please. You can’t.” Flowrida nodded, jumping upright and raising his fists. 

The Meta simply hummed. “We would rather not be delayed.” They stated, “Give up the Alpha, and we’ll let you live.”
“As lovely as that sounds,” Flowrida said, never letting his cheerful facade fade away, “I’d much rather just get to fighting.”

“Your choice.”

The Meta charged, a knife gripped tightly in their hand. Tucker dropped his sword to the floor, racing forwards with his fists clenched. <Duck!> Epsilon cried, and he obliged, narrowly avoiding Flowrida’s blow aimed at the Meta’s hand. It knocked the knife from their grip, but they spun, grabbing it with their other hand and stabbing downwards. Tucker barely managed to get out of the way, grabbing their wrist and shoving it further down and embedding the knife into the floor. They snarled, buckling from a kick by Flowrida and forced back from their weapon.

Tucker yanked it out in spite of Epsilon’s protests, tossing the knife over the side of the base. <Oh, good ca–LOOK OUT!> The AI cut off into a scream as the Meta barreled into Tucker, sending him flying off the side too. He hit the floor hard, rolling to narrowly miss the Meta as they launched themself down, a cloud of dust rising from where they landed. Flowrida cried out, jumping to Tucker’s aid, but the Meta froze, eyes fixed on the doorway.

“What’re they doing?” 

Simmons lowered his sniper rifle, annoyance practically radiating in the air. “What?” He snapped, turning to glare at Grif.

“I said ‘what’re they doing’? Jesus, and you call me lazy. Can’t even bother to list–” He cut off when Simmons gripped his rifle so hard the metal cracked. “Holy shit, these suits are strong.” Grif commented, completely forgetting about his prior question.

Simmons’ eye twitched as he turned his gaze back to the blues. He froze.

“Please tell me I’m not going insane.” He said, passing the rifle to Grif, who let out a loud cheer. 

“Finally! I–” Yet again, he stopped, “The fuck? Are the blues…fighting themselves?”

Once fully sure he wasn’t hallucinating for some reason, Simmons snatched back his weapon. “No, that’s a different guy. Grey and orange armour. Something’s wrong.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“What the fuck’s going on!?” Church yelled, stopping his approach upon noticing the Meta. “Do I–do I know you?” He asked, frowning at them. 

“Church! RUN!” Tucker screamed, or rather, tried to scream, but the moment he opened his mouth, the Meta grabbed Flowrida, tossing him into the former sim trooper. Tucker buckled, hitting the floor yet again.

He vaguely saw two AI flash in front of the Meta, bathing the base in a yellow-ish green glow.

“Alpha.” The two AI spoke at once, voices overlapping with each other, alongside Wash’s. “Alpha.” Church took a step back, eyes widening in fear as they approached.

“Wh–what are you?” He stuttered, reaching for his pistol. Before Tucker yell at him to not, he opened fire. 

The bullets bounced off of Wash’s armour as the Meta chuckled. “Join us Alpha,” They chanted, unsheathing another knife. 

“NO!” Epsilon yelled, and Tucker felt himself tense up, shoving off Flowrida and jumping to his feet. Church was still staring between the Meta and Tucker in fear. 

Tucker launched himself at them, Epsilon practically screaming commands aloud to him. “To the left! Now, to the right!” 

“Take it back now, y’all.” Tucker muttered to himself, ignoring the AI’s cry of, “NOW’S NOT THE TIME!”

He punched the Meta in the face, wincing at the horrible crack that rang out as they flew back, hitting the base wall. Flowrida, fully recovered, launched himself off the floor and right at the Meta. 

A horrific squelching noise filled the air, one far too familiar to Tucker. Flowrida hit the floor, and the Meta cackled. Tucker was only dimly aware of Church yelling for Doc, Caboose coming out at Church’s yell and abruptly deciding to go back in, and Epsilon urging him to keep fighting, now clearly not giving a shit about who could hear him. 

The Meta hummed, glancing around the group, a sick smile stretching across their face. They finally fixed their gaze upon the Red base, chuckling as they stepped away, seemingly fading into the shadows like some horror movie villain.

Tucker stumbled to Flowrida’s side, staring at the bloodied puncture wound in sheer terror. Doc rushed out, dropping to his knees beside the Freelancer. “Tucker, put pressure on it.” He ordered, dumping his medical backpack on the ground and starting to rummage through it. “Church, call command. Hopefully they can send some backup. Caboose…don’t look at him. You’re gonna throw up.”

Caboose (who’d decided to come back out) nodded, turning to stare up at the sky and ramble incoherently about it.

“Epsilon, go in there. See if you can initiate some sort of…something, like you did before.” Tucker said desperately. The AI nodded, hologram disappearing. “Hold on, Captain. You’re gonna be fine.” He promised. 

Simmons felt himself flinch as the knife impaled the blue captain. Normally, he’d celebrate the death of a blue, but something about it just felt so wrong, so fucked up. “What happened?” Grif asked, leaning as far as he could to see through the sights of the rifle. 

“The blue leader’s been stabbed.” Simmons reported grimly, and Grif whooped. 

“Nice, one less for us!”

Dropping his rifle, Simmons rounded on Grif. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He snapped. “A man was just brutally murdered! Even if he’s our enemy!”

Grif backed up, hands in the air. “Calm down, what’s your problem?” He protested. “Our entire job is to kill those guys. I don’t get why one of them dying is such a problem.”

Suppressing the urge to scream, Simmons glared at his idiotic team mate. “For starters, that guy isn’t a red,” He said, fighting to keep his voice even, “That means he might be after us too. He managed to kill the leader of the blue team, their best fighter. We’re all absolutely shitty.” Feeling like he was explaining it to a child, Simmons took on a condescending tone. “If he could kill blue leader, there’s no way we’d stand a chance.”

“Well shit.”

“Precisely, shit.”

Grif shrugged. “Well, hey, at least we warned the others. That’s all they can ask for, right?”

“...right.”

York and CT followed Delta down the cramped halls of the base. Somehow, to absolutely no one’s surprise, Delta was a master at stealthily assassinating people, if the trail of bodies and intact halls were to be believed.

“How the hell did you kill all of them?” CT wondered, staring in shock at them, “I don’t even see any bullet holes.”

Delta shrugged. “If you cannot figure out how I did that, then clearly I am better at your job than you.” He said casually. York groaned at the ambiguous response. 

“And you haven’t changed one bit.” He muttered. The AI quietened at that. 

“You do know that we will have to talk when we are out of here, don’t you?” Delta asked, and York nodded. “However, I do not think it would be wise to discuss it now. Luckily, at this point in time, they do not know we are here. That being said–”

He was cut off by the alarms that started blaring.

“God fucking damnit.”

Tucker stared down dimly at the ground. Flowrida had been airlifted out of the canyon, because obviously there was no way Doc could do a damn thing for him. Just another reason to be guilty about what had happened before.

<There were two AI.>

Frowning, Tucker instinctively turned his head in the direction of Epsilon’s voice. He paused, feeling like an absolute idiot as he finally responded to the AI with a distant and apathetic ‘huh?’

<There were two AI.> Epsilon repeated. <Two.>

Yeah, so? 

<How many AI capture units did we see on…that day?>

He paused, completely unsure as to what Epsilon was hinting towards. Two.  

<Precisely.>

Groaning, Tucker let his head drop into his hands. “Please, God, tell me you’re not glitching out on me.” He begged aloud. Epsilon sounded entirely frustrated as he continued.

<I’m fine.> He responded shortly. <Today, we saw Gamma and Sigma, right?>

Yeah?

<Omega and Gamma were in the capture units.>

So? He asked, slumping backwards to lean on the wall of the base. AI can just stay inside their host’s head, right?

<Well…yeah, but–>

Then there’s no problem.

Epsilon let a huff of frustration, allowing his hologram to form in front of Tucker’s helmet. “Look, shithead–”

“You shouldn’t–”

“Alpha’s already seen me.” He snapped, “It’s not important.” Epsilon waited for Tucker to argue, only continuing once confident he wouldn’t be interrupted. “Didn’t you notice that the Meta was never angry during the fight, not when you punched them, sliced their face open? They wouldn’t’ve left Omega behind, they sure as hell didn’t last time. You know how much damage that piece of shit dealt last time he was left in Blood Gulch. So, Tucker, do you seriously think they wouldn’t try it again?”