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Chapter Text

"Hey, that's not exactly what happened." Private 'North Dakota' Cunningham stated exasperatedly from his place atop Red Base. He currently lacked his helmet, which lay a few feet away and overturned as if it had been casually tossed there. The scratches on its paint job all but confirmed this was a normal occurrence. His indigo armor held much of the same damage. 

He was on the paler side, with natural blonde hair in the usual 'long in front and back with the sides shaved' or as his sister insisted 'a Mohawk without the gel'. The very front and very back faded into an indigo, which matched his sister's magenta accents. His eyes were grey and his eyelashes were notably long.

He busied himself with adjusting his sniper rifle, fiddling with the scope and meticulously removing any dirt or dust. 

Private 'South Dakota' Cunningham sighed. His borderline obsessive behavior visibly annoyed the woman, her cocking an eyebrow and frowning. She had also callously tossed her helmet aside.

She was shorter, though not by much, with shoulder length blond hair on one side with the other shaved into a star pattern. Her face was filled with piercings and she wore heavy makeup, plus a scar on her left cheek. If she wasn't covered in UNSC standard power armor, she'd likely be wearing a lot of spikes and neon colors.

"Yes, it is. You said, 'I'm not going to the Vegas quadrant,' and then the next thing I know you're in an escape pod headed for-"

From below, a deeper feminine voice called out. "Excuse me, sir and ma'am?"

"Ma'am? I'll have you know I am only in my twen...ties..." South began as she turned to face the newcomer, only for every ounce of indignation to evaporate as she watched her remove her helmet.

She was short, shorter than South, but held herself so confidently you could easily be fooled from a picture. She had a distinct tan and gorgeous brown hair secured into two neat low buns with a couple stray wisps that made up her bangs. Her armor, which was EOD rather than Mark VI, was a sort of dark copper-ish brown. Her eyes were oceans of warm amber that South was sure she could get lost in...

Wait... what?

"I was told to report to Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha and speak to whoever's in charge." The mysterious woman continued, stepping forward slightly. She was halted by the sniper now trained on her position. Glancing up at the man, she tilted her head.

"Name?" North nodded his head in a 'go on' motion, keeping his finger close to the trigger.

"Ah, sorry about that. Private Constance Bishop, reporting for duty." She straightened out and gave a curt nod, which seemed adequate enough for the brother to lower his weapon and offer a warm smile.

"Welcome to Blood Gulch, Private Bishop. My name is North." He guestured to the woman beside him. "This is my twin sister, call her South."

"Your mother must have had a sense of humor." Private Bishop snickered.

"Yeah, though I don't think she was on the same level as whoever decide to name you Constance." South fired back, offering her own catty smirk.

While the two woman sized each other up, North moved to pick up his helmet. "Unfortunately, Sargent York is out getting orders from command. You ladies play nice while I grab Tex. She's gonna want to see the fresh meat." He hopped down into the base with a quick wave.

South snatched up her helmet and slid down the side of the base, landing on the dry soil beside Constance. "You know, North and South aren't actually our real names. They're our callsigns. Short for North Dakota and South Dakota."

"I figured. Unfortunately my legal name is indeed Constance. Just call me Connie." The brunette offered a hand, one the blonde tentatively accepted. Connie's hand shake was calculated (well, as calculated as a handshake could be), in that she was careful not to grip harder than South, but force the contact to linger a second longer after the guesture had finished. "I don't suppose you'll tell me your real name?"

South cackled like a coyote. "You wish. The only one in this canyon who knows either mine or North's real names is Sargent York."

"I'm noticing a theme with these nicknames. Don't tell me this Tex is actually called Texas." Connie tilted her head again. God, whenever she did that, her bangs would tilt and cover her face like wings sheltering an angel's figure, and those eyes were surely magic with how...

"You'd be right, Miss Bishop." Any and all confusing inner monologs were halted at the arrival of the tallest person in Red Team: Private 'Texas'.

Her real name was unknown, though whenever she first arrived, she went by 'Beth'. No one called her Beth, because anyone who did would enjoy being her sparring partner the next time she felt like training. At first, South pushed this rule, but quickly learned that fighting is only fun when she actually has a shot at winning.

"Ah, you must be Private Texas. You already know my name, but feel free to call me Connie." Once more she performed her calculated handshake. "I assume you are the one in charge in lieu of this Sargent York's absence?"

"You'd be right. He's at command getting orders. Tell me rookie, whats with the armor?" The large woman crossed her arms, remaining helmeted and snug in her sleek black armor. "You part of a bomb squad?"

"Well, that's what I was training for before getting shipped out here. Can't say I'm actually certified, but I'm decently versed in explosives." Connie then moved to tap her thigh, where a sheathed combat knife sat. "Though I prefer using this puppy."

"It's good to have another close combatant on our team. Come inside."

Private David Saab stood a few feet away from the pair of white armored men who were gathered around the tank. "So I say to the guy, 'How're you gonna get the tank down to the planet?' And he goes, 'I'll just put it on the ship,' and I go, 'If you've got a ship that can carry a tank, why not just put guns on the ship and use it instead?'" The soldier in all black armor rambled, holding onto his helmet. He had dark olive skin, freckles galore, messy black hair that'd been dyed blond so many times it was surely beyond help, and two face scars: one across his nose bridge and another splitting his left eyebrow. His eyes were dark- almost black brown. 

The shorter of the other men, Private Reginald 'Wyoming' Turner, looked over his shoulder at the rookie. "Hey, young chap?" He had a distinct British accent, the type often associated with aristocracy or the snobbish bully in an academic show. He looked the part too, if several years older. His black hair was meticulously smoothed over with enough hairspray and gel that it rivaled a lego hairpiece. On his face was a mustache David recalled from the pringles his sisters binged on any time they bought snacks.

"Yeah?" He responded sheepishly, adjusting his grip on his helmet.

"You're ruining the moment. Be quiet."

"Oh. Okay. You got it man!"

Private Mickey 'Maine' Soo, who still wore his EVA helmet, made a sequence of guestures David couldn't understand, though judging by Wyoming's approving nod, someone could. The large man suddenly turned towards the rookie, whistling. 

Admittedly, Saab felt a bit insulted at the action. 'Who does this guy think I am? A dog?!' But he perked up nonetheless because he did not want to die today.

Maine made a few more guestures, and the rookie finally clocked it as ASL. Thankfully Wyoming was willing to play translator for a bit.

"Ah, the big guy wants you to go to the store for us. Pick up some elbow grease. Two quarts." Maine made another few movements. "And some headlight fluid for the tank!"

"Uhm, okay!" David nodded and slotted his helmet back over his head.

"You do know where the store is, yes?" Wyoming tilted his head, sneaking a giddy glance at his taller companion.

Saab waved a hand dismissively. "Pssh of course I do! I'll get going now." He started in one direction, only to get turned around by two strong arms.

"Big guy says wrong way."

"I knew that! Just got turned around is all!" He all but squeaked, finally running further into the canyon. 

The pair of white soldiers watched him leave, glancing at each other with foxy grins and one very posh giggle. "How long do you think it will be until he realizes there is no store?" As he spoke, he made sure to sign.

Maine responded. 'I'd give it a week.'

"Since you're the rookie, you get to stand by the flag and look professional." North hummed, watching South and Tex disappear around back to work with the Warthog. He had since redonned his helmet and secured his sniper rifle to his back. 

Connie remarked how animated he was, as if he would rather die than have his emotions be even slightly misconstrued. 'Theater kid. Always a named character, but never lead role. Probably ate him up.' Like a pop-up menu in a point an click adventure game, she could almost see the attributes blurb appear next to him. 'Clumsy, good eye, distinct lack of self preservation, protective over his sister...'

When he got no concrete response, he continued. "Look, when South and I got here, we had to do the same thing. Think of this as a rite of passage."

"Of course. Happy to serve." Connie gave him a close eyes smile and a mock salute, but made sure to keep them open just enough to see his reaction.

"Alrighty, I'm going to go join the girls outside. Make sure to holler if ya need anything!" He shouted as he too vanished behind the corner.

Constance was now alone, which was neither good nor bad. She much prefered to be around others, in the sense she was always learning more simply by watching, but a break from over-analyzing was nice. She lazily reequiped her helmet adjusting to the stark difference in her field of view. Such was the downside of an increased blast resistance.

She used the time to think about her team.

North, the only guy on the team here right now but he doesn't seem to mind. I don't trust the amount of damage on his armor for being a sniper, perhaps he's of the class who use long range weapons as shotguns. I've met one or two before, so that wouldn't be entirely uncalled for.

South, a well of information despite her best efforts. She is so obviously jealous of me, given how she was staring at me, maybe she thinks I have the hots for her twin... Either way she is definitely the shoot first, ask questions after their dead type.

Texas, Mary mother of Jesus is that woman one hell of a soldier. Could probably bench press three of me and not even brake a sweat. Yet... she's awful guarded. Like she's afraid of something slipping. Which is odd, because she strikes me as the type to just snap the neck of whoever caught wind of her secrets.

Sargent York (New York?) I have nothing on him, besides the fact he's the one in charge here. 

I wonder if there's another running around that I haven't met. 

As she was thinking, steady footsteps pulled her to the present. She whipped her head around and prepared to draw a weapon. At the sight of jet black armor, she relaxed. 'Too short to be Tex, but Black is definitely our color.' Connie easily fell into an amicable tone. "You must be the other newbie."

They looked up and nodded. "Y-yeah. Is this it?" He looked at the empty room as if expecting some hidden compartment to open up. When nothing happened, his shoulders slumped.  

Connie tilted her head. "I know right? I mean you'd expect something a bit fancier out of a place like this, but I can't complain."

The man in black armor (scratched? No...) put a hand on the back of his helmet. "Well, I can't go back empty handed. Mind if I take the flag?"

Within a second, Connie had her battle rifle trained on the stranger, helmet tilted down to communicate the stare she gave him. Her voice lowered dangerously, "What's your name?"

"Is this some weird sort of ID process?" He asked, backing up. Unfortunately, his destination was a wall, and the soldier in EOD armor was steadily approaching.  

She gave him no clarification, continuing forward until the barrel of her gun pressed into his chestplate. 

"Okay, okay! I'm Private David Saab! New member of Blue Team in Blood Gulch Outpost 1!" He threw his hands up in surrender and screwed his eyes shut. 

Beneath her grip on his bicep, Connie could feel him shaking. Good, she thought, he realizes his charade is up. "Nice try, Blue. You must think I'm an idiot." Her voice was laced with venom. "Just because I'm new here, doesn't mean I'm brain dead."

"I think there's been a misunderstanding!" David interupted. "I'm not trying to trick you! You're a store right? I'm just here to pick up Headlight fluid!"

'Oh, so he really does think I'm stupid.' She grimaced, yanking him away from the wall as she moved towards the back door. "I think my friends would love to say hello to you, Private Saab." Connie adjusted her grip to click the comms button. "Hello, this is Private Bishop, I caught a blue trying to pull a fast one."

<Bring 'em out!>

"As you wish!" The channel clicked off, and David was once again being dragged towards the door. Damn, she was strong. No amount of wiggling or squirming around seemed to lessen her vice grip. 

'What is she, a freaking bear trap in human form?' Saab internally cringed as the midday sun assaulted his eyes again. As his vision adjusted, he saw three figures and a sort of modified jeep with a turret mounted in the back. There was a tall one in black, and two in purple with green accent colors. All wearing helmets. "You must be the 'friends'... Nice to meet you?"

One of the purple soldiers burst out in laughter, roughly slamming a hand on the similar one's shoulder. "Oh my god, he sounds like a fucking kid! Did they lower the enlistment age while I wasn't looking or some shit?!" She continued howling, earning what David assumed was a questioning glance from her support.

"Blues must've gotten fresh blood too." The taller soldier in black mused, stepping forward. David shrunk in his armor solely from how powerful of a presence she had. Clearly, he did not deserve to even remotely resemble her. As he tried to look away, his helmet was roughly forced back to look at her. "You got too cocky kid."

If Private David Saab was a different sort of man, he might feel flustered, but honestly, he was just terrified. "M'sorry miss!" Damn his squeaky voice and how pathetic he sounded, he wanted to kick himself. He was a grown ass man who had technically passed basic and here he was sounding like a fourteen year old.

The purple soldier doubled over in laughter, having found new fuel. "What a loser! I bet he didn't even put up a fight!"

"You're right. Must've expected his little charade to work out. Can you believe he came in and just asked to take the flag?" Connie chuckled, poking her gun into his side. "Then had the audacity to say he was looking to buy headlight fluid from me."

"Poor guy must've been tricked by his team." Ever the voice of reason, North spoke up, pushing away from South to get a closer look at the other male. He leaned down so he was eye level and poked his visor. "What's your name, kiddo?"

"I don't think I should be telling you that..." David tried to inch away from the contact, only for the grip on his forearm to tighten. "Okayokay! I'm Private David Saab!"

"Eesh, doesn't even have a callsign yet. You really bagged a fresh one, Bishop. Good job." He gave her a pat on the shoulder, and guestured for her to let him take over the hostage taking. She obliged, watching as he procured a set of handcuffs that locked David's arms together behind his back. "And with that, we have ourselves a barganing chip! You think we can negotiate a surrender?"

Connie noticed South look her way for a moment, then walked over and engaged with everyone else. Her tone betrayed the fact she was still wiping tears from her eyes. "What should we ask for? A bag of chips?"

"Mmm, I was thinking a beer case." North countered, keeping a firm grip on David's shoulder. Connie still held her gun at the ready, and between Tex and South, he'd be tackled in seconds if he managed to wiggle away. North felt relieved when the rookie stopped resisting. 'No bloodshed just yet. Let's hope it stays that way.'

Wyoming lay on the outcropping, staring down the sights on his sniper rifle with an increasingly dreadful expression. A series of whistling sounds (which was pretty clearly morse code), brought the brit away to look at his hulking ally.

'Situation?'

"Well, they've taken the rookie hostage. So I'd say we are quite thoroughly fucked." He signed.

'Shit.’

Chapter Text

Sargent Sean 'New York' O'Neal flicked open his lighter, squinting at the brightness it held in contrast to the nighttime air of his surroundings. Between his lips sat a cigarette, his fifth of the day. Usually he only smoked two or three times, but something about going directly to Command had his nerves shot in a way he wasn't accustomed to.

Usually he didn't have to look at Price, which he thought anyone would consider a good thing. Usually there was crappy static that messed with his voice, and the delay that gave him a chance to prepare for a response. Aiden Price made everyone uncomfortable in a skin-crawling way.

York drew a breath and exhaled a puff of smoke. He had taken post against one of the few trees in Blood Gulch, not yet ready to go back to base and deal with whatever lunacy surely awaited him. It wasn't like they didn't know he was there. Between North's tendency to use his scope as a monacle and Tex's inhumanly good eyes, the faint orange glow surely alerted them. 

He took another drag, pausing to flick away the ash. 'A rookie was scheduled to arrive today. Constance Bishop if I'm correct?' York inwardly mused as he looked away from Red Base to stare at the moonlit canyon. As his one good eye drifted over the silhouette of the only other structure in Blood Gulch, something resembling a smile began tugging at York's lips. 

He was probably about to wonder how Carolina was holding up, but all thoughts were stolen as his lungs began seizing up on him again. He tried to keep his coughing fit to a low volume, and largely succeeded at the cost of it being about twice as painful. 

God, he needed to quit.

He has before, around five times now, but without fail he kept on relapsing. Last time he even saw a doctor, all they kept telling him was how this was killing him, but he knew that already. Hell, that was all he ever heard from anyone outside of Red Team nowadays. Even the cigarette carton wouldn't let him forget, what with the shitty 3D render of a cancerous lung. 

Before getting to Blood Gulch, his go too was always those nicotine patches from the drugstore (Nicoderm, if York remembers correctly.) He only started again once he enlisted, and it's been downhill ever since. Didn't help that smoking was practically encouraged by all of his COs, what with the lack of leasure time beyond smoke breaks. Plus, it was nigh impossible to get any sort of nicotine patch in the UNSC.

All of this thinking about quiting only made York crave nicotine more. It stressed him out, and his only outlet was a cigarette. Before he knew it, he had to press out the embers, chucking the remains in the coffee-tin-turned-ashtray he kept out by that tree.

Maybe a few months ago, he would've tried to wash the smell off of his armor. Now, it had just mixed with his cheap cologne and became his scent.

As he came upon the concrete eyesore of a base, a helmetless Tex greeted him from her place leaning against the archway. In her hands were two cans, the one she tossed to York being the cheap beer. "You look like you need it. Let's talk, made sure the runts were busy."

"Sounds good. Anything notable on your end today? Heard we got a newbie named..." As the Sargent began up the outer steps towards the roof he scratched at his chin. 

The blonde woman followed, opening her drink and letting the bubbles fizz out. "Bishop." York snapped his fingers, and turned to face Tex having reached the top of the stairs. She had to admit, there was a certain charm to his smile, like a country music star who writes love songs only about his wife. "What's that look for?" She tilted her head.

"Hmm, wondering how she's mingling with the twins. I bet South is excited." He hummed, slumping down into one of the lawn chairs stationed there. He cracked open the can and took a large drink before he continued. "Price just said the same thing he does every time..."

"Do better, beat the Blues, don't die." Tex recited as she joined him on the other chair. "My day was a bit more interesting, if you count the prisoner we have downstairs right now."

York tensed, his good eye flicking over to Tex's face almost in warning. "Explain." He dropped the casualty from before in favor of one more suited to a Sargent.

She sighed, taking another sip. "Apparently the Blues got a rookie today too, and for some reason he thought we were a store. Connie got suspicious and apprehended him, and wouldn't let him out of her sight until I promised North would keep watch."

His shoulders relaxed, "Phew."

"According to North, the guy's only eighteen. Fresh outta basic too."

And once more, York was on edge. "God, these recruits keep getting younger and younger."

---

"Hannah's super sweet with the animals, but Milo is the one who more often takes care of the goats. Her favorite was this black and white kid named Pumpkin who always managed to get stuck in the weirdest places." David hummed, watching North straighten up the common room from his place on the floor. 

He'd been graciously allowed to remove his armor and hang out in his bodysuit and an extra pair of North's shorts, but thanks to the cuffs, he was still slightly uptight.

The blond twin wore a loose lavender tank top and athletic shorts, but David noticed he also wore something black underneath judging by how it was barely visible within the sleeve cutouts. "I remember when South was littler, she wanted nothing more than a pet goat. It was all she'd ask for around Christmas and her birthday. Wasn't until she turned fourteen that she decided dragons and cats were cooler."

"Sounds like Lily, she's always got her nose buried in these graphic novels... I think they're called Wings of Fire or something like that?" As The words left his mouth, he watched North lock eyes with him and slowly lift up the very book in question. Nothing could surpress the ensuing laughter.

---

"Yeah, shit sucks. But we're all misfits in a way, sort of disconnected from everything and everyone else in our lives before this. Maybe it's good they came here, at least you could call this place home." Tex offered.

---

"Oh my god, your wardrobe is so..." South looked genuinely appalled by what lie in the trunk, eyes dancing between the contents and Connie. 

Connie blinked slowly, eyes wide. "Is... is there a problem?"

Suddenly, the scene girl had the other's shoulders in her grasp and was shaking her. "Of course there's a problem! Your clothes are boring! Where's the color? Where's the shitty graphic designs? Where's the personality!?"

"Ack! I just packed what I had! I don't have a lot of casual clothes!" Connie was beginning to feel dizzy, so she firmly wrapped her hand around one of the blond girl's wrists to steady herself. The simple action prompted her to immediately stop and merely remain holding her. 

South frowned, shaking her head. "It's fine, you can borrow my shirts if you'd like."

The brunette was left speechless for a good few seconds. 'She was so competitive before... what's changed?'

As if South had realized the exact same thing, she quickly wrenched her hands away and shoved them into her pockets. She looked away, "Only because you'd look lame without my help. Consider it a favor."

---

York noticed the aquamarine figure from across the canyon, eye instantly softening with the rest of his demeanor. From beside him, his blonde subordinate frowned ever so slightly at him, but kept quiet. He eventually returned to look at her, "I just wonder if we're doing the right thing."

"God, I hope." Tex finished off her drink.

---

Meanwhile, across Blood Gulch Canyon, just outside Outpost One, the two white armored soldiers kept giving one another weary glances as they watched their Sargent approach.

Maine sucked in a big breath before making himself visible beyond the arched entrenceway. Despite this, it was certain she had known he was there from the beginning.

Sargent Alice 'Carolina' Church was not having a very good day. First, she had to wait hours before command could see her, not to mention the fact it was just her in that goddamned room with the worst guy she knew: Price. She doesn't know why she hates him, she just does. Then, when she's actually in the meeting, all she's told is the same mantra she gets to hear on call: Do better, beat the Reds, don't die. 

As if her day could not get any shittier, her pelican ride back to Blood Gulch broke down about a mile away and she had to walk the rest of the journey. So when she finally made it back to the hole in the ground she'd been calling home for the past year or so, and she was met with VERY apprehensive looks from the two idiots under her command, it took everything Carolina had not to shoot someone there and then.

"What the hell happened? Where's the rookie we were scheduled to get?" Alice barked, practically tearing her helmet off to allow her red hair to fall onto her face before signing. She was of average height, but quite fit, and her pale complexion contrasted how sunny the canyon often got. Most notably though, were her emerald green eyes that honestly looked unreal in how they seemed to shimmer in the light like gemstones. But right now, her noble features were screwed into a tight frown. 

Wyoming sheepishly revealed himself, refusing to look his captain in the eyes as he responded. "Well, you see... we may have messed with him and told him to go buy some elbow grease and headlight fluid from the store."

"What store? The only other place in this damned canyon is..." Carolina froze, eye now twitching as she grasped the situation. She closed her eyes and took a deep, long breath. 

A tap on her shoulder coaxed her to open them to see Maine sign something. 'We are really sorry. Reggie didn't hear any gunfire, so they didn't do anything too bad.'

She bit the inside of her cheek, hands opening and closing before she formed a response. "Sorry, I just need a moment. Today sucked, let me cool of first and we can figure out what to do after, okay?"

The two shared a glance before nodding and letting her pass them, both dissapearing to different parts of the base to do god knows what while she headed for the 'break room' Wyoming had put together two months ago.

Carolina slid down with her back to the door until she met the floor, hands snapping upwards to pull lightly at her firey hair as muffled curses spilled from her lips. She wasn't mad at her subordinates, well maybe a bit, but what really got to her was that so many little things kept fucking up her mood in slight ways just begging for her to crumble. And the last thing she wanted was for that to make her lash out at her friends.

So here she sat in the dark, lonely room, hoping to calm her nerves just a bit before doing anything else. A hand unconsciously moved to encase the dogtags at her neck. She traced her fingers along the engravings, the feeling of her late mothers name grounding her. The buzzing in her nerves eased with every shaky breath, but lord knows she wouldn't feel completely better until she slept. 

But not now. Right now she had to be a captain and look out for her soldiers. And right now, one of her soldiers was being kept prisoner with the Reds. Thank god for York's bleeding heart, she knew he wouldn't pull the trigger on a kid that young. 

As Carolina slowly opened the door, she was met with a neatly folded set of sleep clothes by the door. On top sat a note with two sets of handwriting.

'Sorry for being dumb :( '

'I'll make you some tea, love.'

"Those idiots..." She sighed, taking the clothes and the note inside to change.

---

"Here is your tea, dear. Careful, it's hot." Wyoming gently placed the mug into his captains hands, a soft smile on his face. He hadn't made it out of his armor fully, but had found the time to doff pretty much all the bits on his upper half. 

Maine, on the other hand, was wearing a plain yellow hoodie and black sweatpants. As he stretched out his neck, Carolina got a glimpse of the edges of his scar. Of course, she instantly looked away, recalling the reason he never liked to have his neck exposed. He was less imposing out of armor, though as tall and well defined as he was, there wasn't a lot that could be done. Well, apart from the little smiles he wore while painting or messing around with Wyoming. 

Carolina wore the shirt of her fatigues and a pair of blue plaid pajama pants with fuzzy socks. She settled into the armchair with a deep sigh and watched the older man sit down next to Maine.

"So, give me the whole story. I'm sorry I got aggressive earlier, Murphy's law decided it would play a part in my schedual." The redhead took a careful sip, blowing on the tea first. 

Reggie made sure to sign for her, before speaking up himself. "Well, earlier today we got a shipment that included a recruit named David Saab and a tank. While Maine and I were checking the new artillery out, the chap got chatty and so we decided to play a little joke on him."

'We told him to go pick up elbow grease and headlight fluid from the store. At the time, we forgot to tell him that the building on the opposite side of the canyon was in fact the enemy base.' Maine continued.

"And so, by the time we watched him get dragged out by a soldier in brown armor to meet with the rest of Red team, we knew we had well..."

'Fucked up.' Maine sighed, eyes trained on Carolina's to see her reaction.

She sat stone faced for a good two or three seconds before her face turned to mild disappointment. "I... god. You two do realize he's only eighteen."

"Yeah, our apologies." The shorter man shifted where he sat, already feeling a little uncomfortable under the younger woman's disapproving eyes.

She finally set the mug down, leaning forward to make her point more direct. "Alright, our main priority is getting him back safely. I say we go first thing in the morning, before their sniper sets up, and march up with the tank."

"Sounds solid. I trust you'll be the one doing infiltration?"

"Yeah, Maine, are you good to drive the tank?"

'Maybe? How different could it be than driving a car?'

Carolina made a face before moving on. "Regardless, Reggie will be there to help you out. I trust you boys on this."

'Aye, aye, captain!' Maine playfully signed, that small smile creeping up his face.

And responding equally in kind, with her own endearing grin, "Right! I want you two to get some good rest. I will not tolerate sleepy soldiers!"

---

When David Saab peeled open his eyes, he forgot for a moment his situation, expecting just a bit to hear the sounds of Milo bringing in eggs from the coop. Or Lily chasing Hannah around the house while playing pretend. Or even the soft punch to the face from Loki's headbutts. But all he sensed was a pillow slightly damp with sweat, a soft snoring from a room over, and two much older voices than his sisters chatting from where he thinks is the kitchen. 

"You never told me you dated a freelancer." The lilted voice of South grew clearer, along with the distinct sounds if someone stirring their coffee. "What was he like?"

"I mean, he was really whipped for me, but we kept a good banter going. Had some anger issues though." The smokier voice of Tex came next. "Probably didn't help that he got an AI put in his brain a few years ago."

The stirring stopped. "Like that Master Chief guy?"

"Yeah, but this one seemed to make him more bitchy." 

"Damn. You say was... you two break up?"

"Oh yeah, I think he's in a situationship with his best friend nowadays. I feel bad for him." 

David hadn't even registered that the snoring had stopped until North stumbled out of the bunk room with a frankly hilarious case of bedhead. This opinion was shared, based on the cackling from the kitchen as he passed through the archway.

"It is too early for you to be that loud, South. York and Connie are still asleep." From David's perspective from the floor, he could see North begin preparing a bowl of cereal for himself.

"What about the bleach blondie?" South hummed.

"He's up. Has been for a few minutes by the looks of it."

David blinked, finally moving to sit up. At that, the taller of the twins turned to face him as he began eating. 

"Yeah, you kept tilting your head to listen in on their conversation. Learn to be subtle."

The shorter twin finally marched into view, and squinted at him with what looked like a scowl. "Nosey. And you're positive York said we can't do anything to him?" She looked over her shoulder at North, who nodded. An exaggerated sigh fell from her lips as she returned her gaze to David. "Do you want a brreakfast bar or something?"

"Do you usually treat your prisoners like the kid of your mom's friend?" The cuffed man shifted so he could scratch the nape of his neck.

"Blame ol' Yorkie. He's a wuss who doesn't like violence." 

"Excuse me, South, I am not a wuss." The captain mumbled from his place on the couch, peeling his good eye open to shoot a playful glare at the girl. "And I am not old."

"What is with you guys and pretending to be sleeping?"

"I was asleep, you woke me up."

North finished off his bowl of cereal and slipped past his twin. "Alright, I gotta get suited up for watch. Gotta keep an eye on those dastardly Blues!" He slipped into the storage room turned impromptu armory just as the final Red entered the scene.

Connie looked remarkably put together for someone who supposedly just woke up, although it was just as likely she took the time to fix herself before meeting the rest of the team. David noticed South's scowl evaporate as she jogged over to the brunette.

"Connie-babe! How'd you sleep last night?" She snaked an arm around the girl's shoulders and guided her towards the kitchen "Were the clothes I gave you comfy?"

The other girl tensed at the behavior, though she made an effort to stay cordial. "I slept okay and the clothes were... okay."

"Have you heard of a thesaurus?" Tex chimed in, stepping into David's line of sight. She was already mostly dressed in armor, besides her helmet, and seemed to busy herself with tidying up the space. Red Team did that a lot: cleaning up and reorganizing. Probably a result of having so many people living in one space that acted more like roomates than fellow soldiers.

David wondered if that was what things were like in Blue Base.

The warm friendly chatter was cut short as North burst out of the makeshift armory with wide eyes and his sniper sling haphazardly over his shoulder. "We have a bit of a situation ou—" His warning was interrupted by a loud blast from just outside the concrete walls, shaking the earth like an earthquake. "Fuck! Tank!"

Red Team took longer than normal to respond, several bodies pushing through and almost tripping just to shove their armor on and snatch their weapons. Tex was first to make it up the stairs after North, taking a moment to toss a set of keys to South. South dragged Connie out the back door towards the Warthog, shouting something about a mounted turret.

York was the last out, joining the two up top. In all the chaos, David was soon left alone in the common room with no supervision.

A few minutes passed, filled with angered shouts and another warning shot from the tank, before he heard subtle footsteps again. The rookie tensed, scooting over to wedge himself in a corner and wishing his hands wear free so he could grab a weapon.

Suddenly, the stranger was in the base, taking slow steps as they made their way closer and closer to where David hid. He screwed his eyes shut, wishing the Reds had cared enough to put him back in his armor before rushing out.

"Hey, kid, you're okay." For a moment, David thought Tex had returned, but as he moved to look at the woman, he faltered. Someone of similar build in aquamarine armor. "I'm your captain, and I'm here to get you back to Blue base."

"Oh thank god, I thought they forgot about me." David eased up, offering his cuffed wrists forward for her to release. "I'm David, by the way."

"Call me Carolina." She snapped the handcuffs off, helping the younger man to his feet. "Get your armor on and follow me. We don't have much time before they realize I'm gone."

---

Carolina's estimate was proven right, as the moment the pair made it out the back entrance, a bullet whizzed right past David's helmet. The redheaded woman growled and wrenched him forward so she could fire a shot back while covering him.

He couldnn't stay still for long, as he was almost lattened by a Warthog careening over the hill. He dove forward, allowing the vehicle to seperate him from the Sargeant. "Why is it always cars!?" David yelped, wincin as he harshly collided with the dry earth.

He picked his head up just in time to see the tank fire a shot towards the three solders atop Red Base. Insantly the universal chanel lit up witth voices from either side.

> Tex is down!

> Maine lost control of Sheila!

> South, back off and come around to the tank!

> Carolina, it's malfunctioning!

> Shut it off!

David hadn't even registered that he was just laaying their until he was essentially picked up by the back of his armor and dragged further away. "Carolina, you gotta let me help them!" He trieed to wrestle himself away, huffing as he failed.

"Absolutely not. I don't know what's going on, but I can't count on York to keep his soldiers from putting a bullet between your eyes right now!"

"That's fine! Something is obviously going wrong on Maine and Wyoming's end, so let me back them up!"

"But you're just-"

"A kid?! I am eighteen and I passed basic. I would really appreciate it if everyone treated me like the adult I am!" David snapped, finlly escaping Carolina's vice grip. "I knew what I was getting myself into when I enlisted, and I damn well knew getting shipped out here meant I could die. But I don't care! I'm doing this to keep my sisters safe, and I will not just sit by while my allies get themselves killed!"

Alice froze, only for a moment as the sounds of battle and shouting continued. Even if she couldn't see the man's face, she was sure it ws filled with determination. 

"So forgive me for disregarding the first orders you've given me, sargeant, but I'm going back in!"

"Wait!" She managed to catch him by the wrist as he turned away, taking a shaky breath before continuing. She pressed her Magnum into his chest with a nod. "Don't die on me, Washington.

"Yes, ma'am!" Free from her grasp, Washington bolted back own the hill towards the malfunctioning tank. 

He just barely avoided another shot from North, catching the glint of his scope in the morning sun. Slamming aaainst the side of the tank, he tuned back into the chatter from the blue channel. "Maine, Wyoming, what's tthe issue?"

A brittish voice responded, high pitched and panicked. "Sheila isn't listening! She's gone rogue! Bonkers!"

"What?!" 

"Firing main cannon." A feminine voice brely peaked above the voices, surely belonging to 'Sheila.'

"Dammit.. . Maine, let me take over!" Washington knocked on the driver's seat cage, ripping his helmet off in hopes he could read lips. "I think I know how to operate this thing!"

Maine only nodded, climbing out too rest on top of the main carraige where Wash hand been a moment ago. With the bleach blonde now in the cockpit, he began scanning the frankly obscene amount of buttons. "Why are there six pedals?!"

His head was shoved down as Maine forced him to dodge another bullet. Unfortunately it was with far too much force, and his forehead slammed into the dashboard.

"Auto target locking disabled."

"I guess that works!" He shoved his helmet back on to access the communication chanel. "Clear away from the tank! Permission to retreat, Sargeant Carolina?"

> Permission granted. Clear out!

Seeing Wyoming cling to the side of the driver seat cage, Washington slammed his foot on the pedal he figured represented reverse. He managed to make it a decent distace, two thirds of the way back to base before--

>Washington, watch your three!

The redheads voice crackled through just in time for a Warthog to collide with the side of the tank. "Connie! Tag 'em!" He heard South's voice call out, raw from all the shouting. 

David hated the pattern that seemed to be happening, as once more he was not allowed to process things before Maine ripped him from his seat and held him close to his chest. Before he could ask why, a deafening explosion answered. The blast shot a peice of the tank's plating close enough to both crack the armor, and slice open his calf. 

He couldn't hear his screams over the ringing in his ears, but he did feel Maine's grip tighten around him. Washington was greatful for the fact all he really needed to do in the moment was process the agony blooming from his leg, and how the grass beneath him grew stained with red. 

---

York collapsed to his knees, nearly hurling as his brain processed the mangled body of his friend. The blonde woman was missing most of her right side, including a large chunk of her helmet. He gently removed her helmet, frowning deeply as he saw her lifeless blue eyes.

"Is she..." He heard North falter behind him, and the sound of his rifle clattering to the floor. He threw his helmet to the side and moved his sweaty dyed hair off of his forehead. "Fuck! I thought you said they wouldn't kill us!"

"She said they wouldn't!" The brunette snapped to look at his soldier. "She said so long as we didn't go lethal, she wouldn't either!"

"She's a Blue! Our enemy! Why did you trust her?!"

"I don't know, maybe I hoped there was even a slight chance I could guarantee your guy's safety!"

"Good job with that, by the way! Our best fighter is dead and we no longer have a prisoner!"

"Get off my ass, will you?! You know how I feel about all of this!"

North growled, pulling York to his feet by his chest peice. He slammed his forehead against his captain's as he snarled. "South was right. You are a wuss. We are fighting in a war, not playing house! If you want to keep us safe, maybe you should step up and act like a fucking leader!"

The sargent stayed silent for a moment, his heart twisting painfully as he saw the hurt expression on the man's face. "I..." All he could really do is look away, step back and out of North's suffocating presence, focus back on the puddle of blood and gore not two feet away from his boots. "I'm sorry. You're right. If I hadn't... If I had acted more like your captain, none of this would've happened. And today that cost Tex's life."

North's face twisted in a confusing mixture of grief, anger, and something York couldn't identify properly. He rubbed his eyes, moving to meet the girls as they came up the steps. The sky seemed to share in the grief, with clouds beginning to soak the ground with rain.

Sean was left alone with the corpse for a moment. Long enough to meet her dead eyes again and feel the sting in his eyes. Just last night, they had sat on this roof and chatted like nothing was ever going to go wrong, and now he stood staring at the ending. 

He couldn't even say she led a good life. From what little bits of information he learned about her life before Blood Gulch, it was all so complex and depressing. Riddled with grief and failure and a broken heart. 

"Holy shit, is that my body?!"