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Donut sends a message ahead of them, saying he’s bringing a friend. Wash suspects they’re all expecting Doc. It certainly would make more sense than him, the long-thought-dead brother.
He’d thought that their parents had sold the house they’d grown up in when they moved into the community living, but no. Mitch lives here now, with her wife and two kids.
It’s the same old road leading up through the familiar fields of corn. There’s the swing he used to push his siblings on when they were little. There’s the willow tree that has his initials carved on it. There’s the scarecrow Jackie made one Halloween that never got taken down.
There are parts that Wash forgot. Like the number of notches in the post by the gate, one for each of his siblings. Like the smell of manure and freshly turned dirt on the air. He wonders what parts he’d forgotten, what parts Epsilon took. He shoves aside the thought, and focuses on watching the curving driveway as they approach the house.
When he sees it, he nearly falls over laughing as he gets out of the car.
Mitch has painted their old farmhouse a bright, glistening pink. The same pink as Donut’s armor. Wash laughs and laughs, and Donut joins in, grinning at him.
“Isn’t it great?”
“It’s the best,” Wash says honestly.
“Frank!” Mitch is standing in the doorway. She looks just like Wash remembers her—her blonde hair short and curly, her face covered in freckles. Only few streaks of grey in her hair and a flash of gold on her finger show that any time has passed at all.
Mitch scoops Donut up in a tight hug. She’s always been the tallest of them. When Wash was younger, she’d been the tallest person he’d known. Now, he thinks she looks fairly normal sized.
“Mitch!” Donut laughs, not even protesting that his feet are dangling in the air. “Guess who I found?”
Mitch turns to face Wash, and her face freezes. She goes pale enough that Wash can see every single freckle on her face.
“David,” she whispers.
“Hey Mitch,” he says, smiling as best he can.
“You asshole!” She screams, and before he knows it, he’s being tackled to the ground. “You complete—I can’t believe—you didn’t call ahead you fucking douchebag,” she’s hugging him so tightly he almost can’t breathe.
“Aren’t you a mom now?” He gasps. “Language!”
“Jackie! Martha! Get out here!” Mitch yells, hauling him to his feet.
“No need to shout,” Martha laughs. “We’ve all missed Frank, there’s no need to—” She breaks off as she stares at him.
“C’mon!” Jackie is stuck behind her. “Move, I want to see my baby brother!” Jackie’s the shortest of them by a long shot—she can’t see past Martha.
“David!” Martha vaults over the patio rail and throws herself at Wash. If it wasn’t for years of dealing with Caboose, he might have fallen.
“Missed you too,” Wash manages to say as Jackie latches onto him too.
“I am going to murder you,” hisses Martha. She’s the middle child, and he believes her. If any of his sisters were going to follow him into the military, it would have been her. Wrestling champion of her high school, she still bears a slight scar on her lip from getting into fights defending Jackie and Donut.
“Don’t kill him, we just got him back,” Jackie says practically. She lets him go and props her hands on her hips. “What the hell happened?”
He knows what she’s seeing—grey in his hair, scars covering his skin, bags under his eyes. Jackie’s always seen too much, that’s the problem.
“It’s a very long story,” he says. “Where’s Mom and Dad?”
“Inside, cooking.” Mitch says. “My kids and Andi are in town—they’ll be home tonight. They wanted to give us privacy.”
“Andi?” Wash asks.
“My wife,” Mitch reminds him.
Wash shakes his head. “Right, I knew that.”
She smiles at him. “C’mon, big brother.” She grabs his arm and starts pulling him towards the house.
The house smells of melted cheese, and when Mitch pulls him around the corner, Wash knows exactly what he’s going to see.
Dad drops the pan he’s holding. Mom screams.
And just like that, he’s home.
“Where have you been?” Mom cups his face in her hands, and she’s shaking slightly.
“War,” he says tiredly.
“Wash found me on Chorus!” Donut pipes up.
“Wash?” Mom asks quietly.
“It’s—a war nickname, Mom,” he says. He’s long since given up trying to figure out how he can explain Project Freelancer to them. How can he tell them about his best friend turning into an empty shell, about an AI ripping itself apart in his brain, about Sim Troopers and fake deaths and brightly colored armor?
He’s not sure they could ever understand. He doesn’t particularly want them to.
“Oh, like Franklin’s friends all call him Donut,” Mom nods, her smile watery.
There’s a small mewing sound, and a small tortoiseshell cat winds between their feet, confused by the presence of two strangers.
“You got a cat?” Wash asks Mitch, who groans.
“The kids begged,” she complains, picking the cat up and depositing in his arms. “Her name is Mikey. Andi named her.”
“She’s vicious,” Martha complains. “She got my dog across the nose the other day!”
“Well, then your dog shouldn’t have been bothering my cat!” Mitch says. “That thing’s big enough to crush her!”
“Don’t call Shadow a thing! She’s a sweetheart!”
“She’s a menace who knocks over furniture,” Mitch says, and Wash can’t help but start to laugh, clutching at the cat slightly too tightly. She starts to squirm in his arms, and he stops, letting her crawl up onto his shoulder to inspect his face.
“I think we should move this to the living room,” Dad says, but he’s smiling widely, his resemblance to Donut so strong that Wash wonders how he’d ever missed realizing that Donut could be anyone but his brother.
Donut grabs his arm and tugs him forward. “C’mon Wash! We can tell them all about our adventures on Chorus!”
Tucker is the first one to come to visit them. He shows up with Junior trailing behind him, a hotel booked in town, and his sword still at his hip.
“You didn’t call!” Wash sputters when he opens to the door to see Tucker, Junior looming behind him.
“Fuck that, dude! Donut said drop by whenever, so here I am. You remember Junior, right?”
“He’s hard to forget,” Wash says dryly. “Hello Junior.”
“Honk!” Junior says, ducking down so he can fit through the door.
“Wash? Who’s at the door?” Mitch calls.
“One of my old teammates, Mitch!” He says.
“Ooh, your sister?” Tucker waggles his eyebrows at him.
“Married and gay,” Wash hisses.
Tucker laughs. “C’mon, Little Man,” he says to Junior. “Let’s go see the family that managed to produce both Wash and Donut?”
“Honk!” Junior is clearly enjoying Wash’s flustered state.
Mitch comes into the living room. “So. Which one are you?” She asks. Her eyes only widen briefly when she takes in Junior.
“Tucker, this is Mitch. Mitch, this is Tucker, and his son Junior. They’re friends of mine.”
Mitch rolls with it. “Ah, the famous Tucker,” she says. “Wondered when I’d get to meet you. Donut and Wash have both told me a lot about you.”
“What, like how awesome I am?” Tucker grins, and Mitch laughs.
“Wash missed you,” she says, her eyes sparkling. Wash freezes, realizing that introducing Tucker to his sister might be one of the worst ideas ever. Of all time. “It’s so good to have you here. Are you staying for dinner? Andi’s cooking.” Wash flinches slightly—ever since he and Four Seven Niner recognized together, the situation’s been slightly tense. He still has bruises on his shins from her ramming him repeatedly with her wheelchair. Only Mitch’s interference has stopped the assault.
Apparently, Niner is sick and tired of having people who she thought was dead not be dead. “I put flowers on your grave, jackass!” She’d yelled as Mitch tried to haul him to safety.
Tucker freezes slightly. “Andi? Please tell me you’re not talking about the bomb.”
“What bomb?” Wash frowns.
“My wife isn’t a bomb,” Mitch laughs.
“Wait, why do you know this story and I don’t?” Wash demands of his sister.
“I watched Donut’s letters home for years, Wash,” Mitch laughs. “I know all sorts of things you missed.” She glances at Junior again. “It’s nice to meet you, Junior. Are you hungry?”
Junior shakes his head. “Honk blargh.”
“He says thanks, but he’s already eaten,” Tucker translates. “We stopped at this totally weird diner place just a few towns over. It was awesome.”
Mitch nudges him in the side. “He’s cute,” she whispers to him.
Wash stares at her in horror. “Mitch.”
“What?” Her smile is perfectly innocent, which doesn’t do anything to help. That smile promises suffering in the near future, with a large side of humiliation. “I’m just saying.”
Two days later, Grif and Simmons show up. “Donut!” Simmons screams. “We’re here to visit, because apparently someone already lost our deposit!”
“Shut up, Simmons! How was I supposed to know that smoking wasn’t allowed?”
“Smoking’s been banned in public buildings for hundreds of years!”
Jackie’s the one present this time, and Wash can already see her starting to write a thesis based off their interactions. “Jackie, no,” he whispers, before helping Grif and Simmons move their stuff into the barn. Luckily, Mitch remodeled years ago, so the loft of the barn has sleeping quarters. Tucker and Junior already have the guest room.
Jackie rolls her eyes at him. “Please. I’d need a bigger sample pool to actually be able to do anything.”
“You won’t get a larger sample,” he tells her. “Grif and Simmons have a… unique relationship.”
“So, how long have they been together?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as the two of them pile into one room, despite there being several available.
“I don’t think they’re actually dating?” Wash says, but it’s more of a question, because he’s honestly not sure. “Tucker says they’re married, but I think he’s joking.”
There’s a light in Jackie’s eyes.
“Jackie. Please don’t experiment on my friends.” He knows that look.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, David,” she says, but her notebook is already out, and Wash is despairing.
Wash looks around the barn, and sighs. He better make sure all the rooms are ready to go.
Three days later, he’s only just finished painting one of the rooms bright red when Sarge shows up on their doorstep, scowling. Lopez is lurking behind him, holding a scarlet duffle bag with a variety of stickers placed all over it. Lopez looks the same as ever, although Sarge looks smaller without his armor, and the cane.
“I’m here under duress!” Sarge proclaims, scowling.
“No sé por qué estoy aquí. Este lugar huele a mierda,” Lopez says. It’s nice to see some things never change.
None of Wash’s sisters are here this time, but Niner and the kids are. He sees Niner going for her sidearm that she keeps tucked into the arm of her wheelchair, and quickly shakes his head. “He’s harmless, really,” he tries to tell her, low enough for Sarge not to hear.
“What’s this? Children? Have Grif and Simmons reproduced already?” Sarge has discovered Wash’s niece and nephew, who are staring at him with wide eyes.
“Obviamente no. Ellos no pueden tener hijos, idiota. Y estos dos son demasiado viejo.”
“Sarge, these are Joel and Shannon, my niece and nephew,” Wash says, and it’s too late. He sees the light in Sarge’s eyes.
Before the end of the day, his niece and nephew are proud members of the Red Army.
“Die, dirty blue!” Joel howls, clinging on to Wash’s back.
Niner just gives Wash a look. “Look, one of these days, you’ll have to forgive me,” he tries to reason with her.
“Unlikely,” she says.
“I was a bit busy!”
“And I thought you were dead,” she said. “And you’re corrupting my children.”
“How is this my fault?” Wash snaps. Shannon is now attached to his leg, screaming variations of the familiar insults. Wash honestly can’t even differentiate between them anymore. It all just blurs together.
“If you weren’t here, there’d only be reds,” Niner says.
Sarge and Lopez move in with no fuss apart from that. Sarge spoils the kids rotten in between feeding them more of his ridiculous propaganda and factually incorrect history lessons.
Lopez dedicates himself to fixing the old family tractor, which is notoriously unreliable. Martha, who speaks Spanish, likes to join him in the shed and talk to him. Shadow takes a liking to Lopez, much to the amusement of everyone. And to everyone’s shock, Lopez seems to like Shadow back. Even though he always calls her a “puta”, instead of “perra”. But he still tolerates her following him around everywhere.
Jackie, meanwhile, has commenced with her experiment. She’s convinced everyone except Wash that really, the only way to get Simmons and Grif together is to convince them that they already are. And so the entire family has been treating Grif and Simmons like a married couple, right down to always referring to the other as “your husband” in conversation.
Wash has no idea how he feels about all this. Tucker thinks it’s the greatest thing ever.
Meanwhile, Mom has scolded Wash no less than three times for never telling him he had such a nice boyfriend. “And he even has a kid!” Mom says. “I’m so proud of you, David!”
“Mom, I’m not dating Tucker,” Wash says, for what feels like the fifth time.
“Well, why not?” His dad asks, like it’s the most reasonable question in the world.
Wash throws his hands up into the air and walks away.
“Hey Wash!” Tucker greets him. He’s sitting on the porch, watching cheerfully as Junior tries to see if he can lift a cow, while Martha and the kids cheer him on.
“Tucker,” he says, sighing with relief. He pauses. “Please tell me that you told Mitch you were going to let Junior try lifting cows.”
“Ah, it’ll be fine,” Tucker waves it away. “Besides, Niner loves Junior.”
“You do realize Mitch can throw knives, right?” She picked it up in honor of him, apparently, which is a horrifying thought.
“Eh, it’s about time we get some action around here. Bow-chicka-bow-wow,” Tucker adds, grinning widely.
Wash groans, and presses his face against the railing. Tucker musses his hair, laughing. Wash tries not to think about how nice it feels.
Wash has the room for Caboose all prepared for two weeks before he finally shows up. In hindsight, Wash should have realized that he’d get lost.
“Hello!” Caboose yells, standing on their porch. “I have found you!” He beams widely.
“I think I get credit for that,” Carolina says, standing behind him with a wry smile. Wash had called her three days ago, asking her if she’d seen Caboose. He’s partially glad that it took Caboose so long; it gave Carolina the excuse she needed. She’s been keeping her distance from all of them since they’ve arrived on Earth.
“I’m sure you do. Come on in, there’s someone who wants to see you.” Wash steps aside and lets them in.
Carolina frowns at him, and Niner races out of the kitchen, radiating fury, “Carolina—” Her rang is stopped by a charging Caboose.
“Andi!”
“Mikey?” Niner is absolutely flummoxed. “What are you—?”
“You know Caboose?” Wash blurts, staring.
“Andi is my sister! She is the bestest one!” Caboose grins, spinning around to face the Freelancers. “Agent Washington! Have you met my sister?”
“Niner?” Carolina looks slightly dazed.
“Welcome to my family,” Wash says quietly. “Jackie is trying to convince Simmons and Grif they’ve been married for years, Mitch is trying to set me up with Tucker, Sarge has convinced my niece and nephew in the importance of the glorious red army, and Martha’s too busy laughing at all of us to do anything.”
“And Donut?”
“Is working with Doc on the corn harvest. He’s trying to lure Lopez out of the barn so he can be a scarecrow again.”
Carolina has looked ancient since Chorus. She takes a look at Caboose, who has discovered Martha’s dog, and is acting incredibly excited, and then she looks at Niner.
She falls to the ground laughing.
“Oh, you think this is funny?” Niner yells. “I thought you were dead!” She charges forward again, fully intent on running Carolina over.