#sangheili can't see red

[illusion-of-sea-axes]

What I imagine Tucker’s tattoos would look like in practice.

[love-beyond-space-war]

halo wars 2 Voridus x Reader? female or gender neutral?

Sure, I'll try! No plot given so I'm winging it. Reader is a vague species (Human, Sangheili, Jiralhanae). Jiralhanae are so under-rated. Not proofread, may have mistakes.

Reeling Him In

Voridus x Gender-Neutral Reader

Synopsis: Voridus once again is a reckless Jiralhanae leader. It's up to you, his partner, to ground him when his brother isn't able to.

Content Warnings: Romantic pairing, Gender-Neutral Reader, Reader is protective, Lighthearted, Mate mentioned once, Short story.

"You tend to get yourself carried away often, Voridus." You find yourself saying as you tap away at a data pad. "As your brother says you often act like a pup, he cannot keep you in check forever."

"Isn't that what you're doing?" Voridus snorts. "You two are always so serious."

"For good reason!" You counter, unamused by your impulsive partner. "Everything you do is never thought through. Your experiments and uncontrolled curiosity has costed you many soldiers and gotten you hurt!"

"If I do not take such risks, who will? You really are like my brother." Voridus huffs, walking to you.

"We both care about you. Plus, Atriox is really getting tired of this-" You bring up, only for Voridus to force you away from the data pad to look at him.

"Oh? So it's about Atriox?" Voridus hums.

"What? That's not it!" You huff, seeing Voridus laugh. "I just want you to be safe."

"You want me more like my brother." Voridus scoffs. "What's the fun in that?"

He pulls you close to him with a grin. You still appear unimpressed as he traces his claws down your back. He's teasing you, yet you still seem unimpressed.

"I want you to listen to me." You say, Voridus staring at you with his red eyes.

"I'm fine, you know this." Voridus hums as he shoves his face in the crook of your neck. You lightly push on his chest but he doesn't move.

"Were you really fine when you fought The Flood that you released?" You sneer for a moment, causing Voridus to tense.

"... I'm sorry-" Voridus admits, causing you to sigh.

"See why you need me?" You smile softly, pulling his face from your neck to hold his face in your hands. "Who's going to look after you when your brother can't?"

"So what are you? Some sort of pupsitter?" Voridus groans but leans into your touch.

"No." You chuckle. "I'm your partner."

Voridus hums a deep growl in response as you kiss his skin. Despite the bickering you do, you still care for each other deeply. Your fights are just because you care for each other.

Voridus understands you're just looking out for him. He may give you a hard time but truthfully he knows he needs you. You love him as his mate and he knows you're the best for him.

"I made a good choice picking you then, hm?" Voridus teases, causing you to nod as you nuzzle into him.

"I'll try my best to watch over you, but please take care of yourself." You whisper, causing Voridus to shove you under his chin to lay his head on yours.

"Fine, if it makes you sleep at night." Voridus sighs, feeling pleased with you against his chest.

You accept that as an answer, sighing happily against your Jiralhanae partner.

[kobra93art]

Horse au anon here again, once more unable to sleep, with more ideas.

Escharum and Jega's friendship could be a lot more deeper and personal in this au.

Sangheili/horses still think that the brutes are dishonorable beasts, but while they're intelligent, they are still technically animals. With no actual language.

Jega could be a lot more skittish and hateful as a horse, along with having a LOT more ptsd than his canon Sangheili counterpart.

Ends up getting known as a "killer horse" after ending the lives of Unggoy and Kig-Yar caretakers that try to put him down due to his injuries.

A younger escharum could find Jega, and save him from being put into a slaughter house or from being taken to a glue factory. Makes him a prosthetic that doubles as a weapon, and in return, jega welcomes Escharum not just as a rider, but an actual friend.

I don't know how horses play, exactly but I could see jega showing behavior towards escharum that only horses show each other (obviously in private though. This horse has the mentality of Sangheili still, and has SOME dignity if he doesn't have honor.)

I could also see him being a lot more chill with Escharum being rough with him. Grabbing at him, smacking him, being loud, etc. It still spooks him, he just accepts that while Jiralhanae are dishonorable and fucking terrifying, his friend can be terrifying as a treat. He won't run, friends don't run from friends. He just side eyes, and judges Escharum whenever he starts roaring or doing normal brute stuff.

Horses are pretty opportunistic eaters from what I remember too, so they sometimes eat meat. I could see horse-jega copying his new brute "herd" by sneaking snacks from prisoners. Stomping them to death, then grazing on the guts. Probably not good for him, but hey, Escharum does it.

Escharum in return would have to start eating some greens, to keep his horse from getting sick. Imagine this poor chieftain reluctantly eating a salad, with a horse over his shoulder.

Horses also can pick up on things not being right faster than people can, so this adds some angst to their relationship. Jega could figure out that Escharum is getting sick before he can, but the brute can't figure out why his steed is trying to keep him from fighting, when normally Jega is pumped and practically begging to take him to the fight. The banished could think that the horse is going back to his rebellious ways, till escharum starts showing symptoms like he does in halo infinite, and it clicks that Jega was begging him to go rest because he was getting ***sick.***

But thinking of Escharum, this giant brute chieftain, acting kinda like a horse girl towards jega throughout their whole friendship is so funny to me. I think they'd enjoy apples together.

I'm picturing their first ride like Barbie's first ride on Majesty in Barbie in a pony tale. Jega refusing any horse riding gear, then bolting once escharum actually gets on his back.

Oh wow I love your creative ness <3 Absolutely this idea is amazing, from start to finish. Also sorry you couldn't sleep well with all this ideas haha. But I love it, having once been an equestrian myself and seeing 'kill horses' that are flagged with the red ribbon on their tail. I kinda like the idea of Escharum helping Jega and taking care of him.

Like Escharum here be feeding Jega the good sugar cubes and damn oats and Jega be like " I like you, but also I need to look cranky all the time. Let me kick that other Brute in the butt for you as a thank you. " It totally makes for one heck of an idea. I might even do some headcanon stuff for the next anon of yours :D and sorry it took me so long to respond back. Work got in the way.

[vehlika-pelican]

#Little Demon the Second Coming of Lavernius au - Master Chief finds out Long post maybe and im on mobile and can't do a read-more so you are WARNED: right so I'm a total spaz and forgot the most important supporting tidbit of the sangheili's misunderstanding of Tucker and Master Chief's relation: John-117 leads Spartan II Blue Team. Tucker is on Blue Team. and the sangheili are like oh these poor mammals think blue and green are the same (meanwhile reds are all the same to these dumb mandible-faces). anyways, they ask Tucker and he's like "yeah im on Blue Team, i've been a member for most of my adult life" but they don't get that Bloodgulch Blue Team and Spartan II Blue Team are very different entities so the Demon's Blue Team must logically be Little Demon's Blue Team !!!! and when coupled with their belief in family wearing matching colors dark green MC, and light (blue-ish) green Tucker MUST be related. so they think its like when theres both an adult's table and a kid's table at thanksgiving where the younger, lower ranking family members are in their area and the respectable, superior family members are in theirs but they are all ultimate seated within the same house. and imagine what'll happen as the Spartans come to discover this and it isn't at a proper debrief or whatever some Elite goes up to Master Chief and is like "i assure you, your hatchlings are well-cared for and growing impressively" or whatever and everyone on the UNSC Infinity is like "what." and some guy is like "the Spartans lay eggs?!" but no one corrects him and its a whole fiasco but the sangheili is just thinking "they make so much noise. the condition of the Demon's younglings must truly be of great concern." but John is just. "my..hatchlings?" and the sangheili just thinks he's choked up in worry right so he says, "yes! the oldest came to Sangheilios and has been trained by the Arbiter and the greatest warriors he has selected himself! and your grandchildren show much promise as well." Blue Team's like ???? but Frederick says "con...gratulations?" just in case and John goes "what do you mean? i don't have any... hatchlings?" but the sangheili thinks oh he must be an uncle or somesuch- YOU'RE NOT HELPING YOURSELF JOHN- and talks about Tucker and his very sangheili son and all the little hatchlings being kept safe on the colony world and Captain Lasky has to corale a bunch of towering Spartan IIs and aliens and intelligence people into a conference room like a herd of wild Cortanas in order to get this straight. and that's how Master Chief learns that the UNSC has been exploiting a misunderstanding in order to help interspecies relations and woops i guess you have a family now boss man but don't worry Tucker knows and we've had him playing along, don't worry he's pissed too (and we used him as part of a fucked up AI project but they say that part under their breath bcuz this man has gone rogue for AI) but he's out there liberating a colony from an oppressive regime and no he isn't available right now but- What Halsey tooketh, the UNSC giveth...back? returneth? (his family) so. the sangheili- goddamn it, Thel- developed a theory like a spark and let it burn down the whole planet. well, it can't be helped now because its been too long and we might hurt their feelings and we don't need anymore glassings, John, so get onboard please and thank you. but in the rush to clear this up with Chief and his Blue Team, the ship's crew has taken to this like just as much kindling (humans are THE gossips) and woops who knew Chief was sewing his wild oats all over the galaxy. #thotChief (i kinda regret this but not really) so ONI has to disclose some things about P. Freelancer because John refuses to do anything without as much intel as possible. so the sangheili think he had A Kid and that kid was chosen by heretics to be a savior, this poor guy was impregnated with an alien embryo and gave birth, yes he survived, but he got to Sangheilios before we got our hands on your "grandchild" and now they're too high profile to touch (Tucker must be a shrewd and clever bastard). Thel'Vadam accidentally started the rumor but it was a perfect way to smooth negotiations with them so Tucker's an official ambassador and we get access to all the things now and we're not very sorry. Master Chief just sighs and accepts his fate because peace is important and it's too established and will they ever stop fucking with his personal life? but Blue Team teases him by calling him "grandpa/gramps" "i didnt know you and the Arbiter were so close, John. when's the ceremony?" and "do you have pictures in your wallet" "you are mighty spry for a granddad." and then they learn about how many people are involved and John supposedly and really has to live with like 200 grandkids on Chorus and Son Tucker and Daughter-In-Law Carolina and Daughter-In-Law Kimball (kimbalina without Tucker involved with either one but the sangheili are poly as a species and they don't understand. they think Tuckalina happened and why would adults limit themselves to a single partner thats not good for genetic diversity although they REALLY dont get that Carolinas vagina ISNT a tennis ball machine regardless and they've lost all hope in explaining this shit) so he's got enough supposed grandkids to have several sport's teams or fill a small stadium and the teasing becomes "how was the soccer match? did you root for your grandkids or for your grandkids?" "how many minivans did you have to hitch together?" and its. fucking annoying. because he doesn't know any of these people and even if he did, John doesn't know how to have a family (aside from his team). but he has no choice now. Master Chief has to meet his "son". Meet this other Blue Team. Punch Thel a few times probably. and having a family isnt all that terrible. imma go hide now. blacklist "vehl's headcannons" if you dont want to keep seeing my stuff.

[kelpiemomma]

Enkyla E042 aka Kells

Her Spartan armor is red and she prefers to melee when possible, and snipe when she can't melee. Legend has it she fought a Gúta with just her armor on and won. While that can't be proved, what CAN be proved is she somehow impressed a Sangheili warrior in the midst of battle enough that he ended up falling for her, though they'd fight each other many times before settling down. Kells claims it was her sense of humor that finally lured him in, and Naqi looks pained whenever he's asked how it happened. Nonetheless, the two share a strong bond and care deeply for each other. Though the amount of times they nearly killed one another before getting together is a bit... alarming.

Taller than most of the people around her, and stronger as well for being a Spartan, Kells is fairly no-nonsense and straightforward. She doesn't get embarrassed easily and tends to ignore ribbing from others. She's actually quite solitary, though once she bonds with someone it's air-tight. She's never been loud but after losing so many of her team, despite their newness to her, on Reach has led to her being even quieter. She's had difficulties getting attached to others since being recovered from Reach; the only true companion she's found is Naqi, and she refuses to entertain an AI. Her expression is most often flat and impenetrable, though it's not uncommon to see a smile on her face when she speaks to Qey.

[illumynare]

Red vs Blue fic: Gift of the Magi (7/12)

Summary: Wash has already gone through too much, been broken too often. So when they get captured by Hargrove together, Tucker figures he has one job: until the cavalry shows up, keep Wash alive and (relatively) sane. No matter the cost.

Unfortunately, Wash is just as determined to protect him.

Parings: None. Warnings: Rated M. Canon-typical language, aftermath of canonical character death, psychological torture, hallucinations, hallucinated child harm, mentions of torture and suicide, fake-out character death.

Notes: Also available on AO3!

@papanorth drew an amazing fanart for this story, so if you haven’t seen it already, check it out!!!

There's a weight in Tucker's gut that never goes away now. An ache in his bones. A thought he can't stop thinking.

I killed him. Maybe I killed him. He was my kid and oh fuck, what if I killed him?

Oh my GOD, stop bitching, says Church. I told you, it didn't really happen. 

"The fuck do you know," Tucker mumbles, leaning back against the wall of his cell. "You're not even real."

He picks through his memories, trying to be sure—but the more he thinks about it, the more hazy everything gets. When they landed on Sanghelios together, was it morning or evening? He's not sure anymore. And he feels like there was something funny about the name of the ship that took them there, but he can't remember it no matter how he tries. He can't remember anything about that ship, not even what his quarters looked like, and Tucker is sick with uncertainty.

He wishes he still had the photo of Junior with his basketball team, but it's gone with the rest of his armor. If he could just look at it again— But maybe he never had it. Maybe he never got that email from Junior, written in formal Sangheili: Father, I have a glorious victory to report. Maybe he never spent the day feeling like he was going to burst with pride, because his son had won his first basketball game.

Maybe he deserves everything that Hargrove is doing to him.

The door opens. Tucker shudders, he can't help it, because he knows what's coming next. But then he looks up, and it's not more Charon mercenaries, ready to drag him off for another session in the damn simulator, it's—

"Carolina?"

Her turquoise armor is gleamingly perfect except for the one splatter of blood across her shoulder, and she holds her auto rifle with the kind of practiced ease that Tucker still envies. She gives him a little head-tilt.

And Tucker's still dreading the truth about Junior too much to feel feel hope, exactly. But it's Carolina. She's here, that means the others are here, and that means Wash is going home. Maybe it was always too late for Tucker, but Wash is going to be okay.

"Hey," she says. "Ready to leave?"

"Fuck yeah," says Tucker, struggling to his feet. His legs feel weak and shaky as he followers Carolina out into the corridor; he's been sitting on his ass for way too long. 

He can hear shouts and explosions and the rattle of gunfire in the distance, but there doesn't seem to be anyone fighting near them. Then there are footsteps, and Carolina's gun swings up.

"Carolina, we don't have much—" Wash charges around the corner and stops short. "Tucker." His voice sounds dry and hollow, the way it gets when he's not sure if things are real. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Tucker lies. He knows his voice is a little shaky, but he's just—he's so fucking relieved, to see Wash on his feet and in his armor and okay. Tucker can't forgive himself, but if Wash is okay—there's at least one thing he did right. Some part of this mess was worth it.

"Good," Wash says softly, almost to himself, and then turns away. "We don't have much time. See if you can keep up, Private Tucker."

Dude, I'm a captain, Tucker nearly complains, but he saves his breath for running.

He needs it. Wash and Carolina charge forward like they're in a race, feet pounding, and Tucker can barely keep up. He's gasping for breath, his legs burning. He tries to say, "Wait up," but all he can get out is a wheeze, and they don't look back.

They don't look back.

Tucker has this sudden feeling like if he falls, they won't turn back for him. They'll leave him behind and he'll never escape. And he knows that's crazy, it's just the simulations messing with his head, Wash and Carolina wouldn't really do that—

As he thinks that, his legs give out, and he falls to the ground. Tucker falls, trying to catch his breath, and he's afraid. His friends have saved him and he's still so afraid.

An armored hand seizes him by the wrist. Carolina. "Up," she says, and hauls him to his feet, then drags him with her down the hallway. 

She came back for him. Tucker is dizzily grateful for that as she and Wash drag him into the Pelican. They don't even take time to strap into the seats; the moment the hatch closes behind them, Carolina yells, "Get us out of here!" and the Pelican rockets into motion.

The sudden lurch is dizzying, but it's comforting at the same time, because Tucker knows this. He's been on, like, a hundred missions for Chorus; he knows this feeling, of everyone piling into the Pelican and then clinging on for dear life as some idiot who never finished high school tries to fly the thing.

They steady out pretty soon. Tucker sits up, sees that everyone is here—Sarge and Simmons and Grif and Donut, and Caboose who has Wash pinned in a hug that looks really fucking uncomfortable. Wash isn't putting up a fight, though, because he's always been soft about Caboose.

And in the corner—

"Is that my armor?" Tucker says.

"I said we should just leave it," says Grif, "but somebody—"

Tucker doesn't hear the rest of the complaining. He's diving forward, grabbing at the pieces that his armor. All he can think about is the little storage compartment where he keeps the photo of Junior. If he can just find it, if he can just see it, then he can stop wondering.

It's empty.

His fingers scrabble at the edges of the compartment. There's a hollow ache in his chest. This can't be real. It can't be.

"Tucker?" asks Wash. He's pulled himself away from Caboose. "What are you looking for?"

"My photo," Tucker says helplessly, staring at the suit of armor. "It's gone. Hargrove took it."

Tucker pulled out the photo and showed it to Doyle, he remembers that, unless—unless—

Grif raises his hand. "I vote we don't go back to retrieve Tucker's porn."

"IT'S A PICTURE OF JUNIOR," Tucker yells.

There's silence.

Tucker looks up to see six helmets turned towards him, and Wash's eyes staring at him—when did Wash take off his helmet?

"Who?" says Wash.

There's an icy feeling spreading through Tucker's chest.

"Junior," he says.

"Oh, is that what you call it?" Donut asks cheerfully. "Because mine is named—"

Simmons shrieks, "DONUT!" and smacks him in the head.

"Okay," says Grif. "I'm also not going back for Tucker's dick pics."

"Actually," says Caboose, "I think Tucker means the genetically engineered alien-human hybrid he shot in the head. Yeah. Good times."

It feels like all of Tucker's insides give this horrific lurch against his ribs, and he can't breathe, can't—

All he can think is, nononononono. 

Until this moment, he hadn't realized how much he'd believed Church. He'd been afraid, but on some level he'd thought that he didn't really do it, that Junior was still waiting for him.

"What?" asks Wash.

Shit, Tucker thinks, shit, I never told him, he doesn't know yet, he doesn't know—

"Well," says Caboose, "there was an alien visitor on a noble quest, and Tucker—"

"Fucked an alien and didn't like it," Grif cuts in. "Y'know. Blue Team problems."

And Tucker doesn't want to speak, but he can't stop himself. "He was my kid. Junior was my kid." He's shaking as he says, "I killed my own kid."

There's this way that Wash used to look at Tucker, back in the canyon on Chorus. This look that said, Wow, you're such a fuck-up, I can't believe I'm stuck with trash like you.

Back then, it just made Tucker mad. It just made him resolve to never sleep in his armor again, and complain even more about squats—sure, there were those times he practiced field stripping his rifle late at night, but it was fucking boring in that canyon, what else was he supposed to do—

Now, though.

Now Tucker looks at Wash looking at him, and he thinks, Yeah, you're pretty right.

"Wow," says Wash. "You were that desperate to keep partying?"

And Tucker knows he's trash, okay? He knows that he never did anything good with his life until Junior turned up, but he still bursts out, "Shut up! I was—I was—"

He can't finish the sentence. There's no way to make this any better. Tucker had a kid and he shot that kid in the head and there's no way he can ever come back from that.

"Damn Blue Team, killing their own before we can do it," says Sarge. "Don't they know it's against the Geneva Convention to deprive your enemy of the chance to strangle you with his own two hands?"

Tucker remembers pressing his hands against Junior's broken, bloody flanks, and he wants to vomit. He wants to kill himself. He wants some way to make Wash stop looking at him, but he can't and this is what he deserves. Whatever happens to him, he deserves it.

This isn't real, Tucker, says Church, but what does he know? He isn't real either.

"Am I the only one who didn't know about this?" Wash asks.

"I . . . didn't know," says Carolina, and there's a low note to her voice that Tucker's only heard a few times before.

"Carolina," says Wash, "I think we need to deal with this."

Wash isn't looking at him anymore. He's looking at Carolina—Carolina who's a Freelancer, who's gotten revenge for the family she lost, who isn't Tucker.

Listen: speaking as the Galaxy's leading authority on torture by computer simulation— It's NOT. FUCKING. REAL.

And Carolina says, "He was on your team."

Wash stands up. And Tucker knows what's coming, knows he deserves it. That's why he doesn't look away as Wash steps toward him. When Wash's armored fingers close around his neck and shove him back against the wall of the Pelican, Tucker chokes, and his feet thrash. But he's still watching Wash, still remembering the moment Wash said You're not the same person you were back in Blood Gulch.

Until now, Wash hadn't known who he really was, back in Blood Gulch.

"Private Tucker," says Wash, and puts his gun to Tucker's forehead.

"Yeah," says Tucker, closing his eyes, and he's almost grateful. He doesn't have to remember hurting Junior anymore.

The gun fires and it sears through his skull, one instant of pain that shreds him apart and lays him to rest—

And Tucker wakes up.

Tucker wakes up, and he's shuddering in the medical bed, and Church is saying, Fucking told you so, and it doesn't matter. None of it is real, it's all too real, he doesn't care anymore.

They drag him back to his cell, and he slumps against the wall, just like in the simulation. Is this another one? 

He doesn't care.

If he really killed Junior, then it's fine if Wash kills him. It's fine if he doesn't get rescued. Tucker doesn't care about anything anymore.

Wash is losing time.

He knows that's really bad, but he's finding it hard to care.

He goes to the training room and he says, "Safety off," and the Mark IV says, Target acquired, and he lets it spin him into motion, welcomes the numb feeling of something else moving his limbs as he lets his mind fray apart— 

simulation_011101 Agent Maine is dead simulation_001111 Agents North and South Dakota are dead simulation_1001111 we couldn't find the body simulation_1001011 we have footage of the interrogation simulation_1011 I'm sorry to tell you

—and the next thing he knows, he's back in his cell staring at the wall. His whole body aches with exhaustion, but he doesn't want to sleep. He can't sleep.  

But he does. He falls asleep and he sees the bullet flying forward slowly, like he could just reach out and pull it back. He's screaming but he can't move, can't do anything except watch the bullet crash through Caboose's helmet, splatter blood across the spiderweb cracks of the visor, and I mean we are friends.

Wash wakes up shouting and clawing at himself. His head is pounding, his mouth is dry and sour. It's the same way he used to wake up when he was Article 12 (except they had him strapped down every night so he couldn't hurt himself, and he wonders how long it will take Hargrove to start doing that.)

He thinks, I can't do this.

In the same moment, he remembers why he has to do this: because Tucker is still alive. Tucker can still be saved. If Wash just holds on, keeps Hargrove happy for long enough—

It's worth anything, if he can do that.

Wash doesn't matter. His team does. He's known that since Sidewinder.

(He knows what happens when he thinks that he matters, cruel gunshots and Why did you do that? What's wrong with you?)

So he sits up in his cell and he says , "Safety off," he thinks, I'm sorry to tell you, Agent Washington is dead—and the next thing he knows, he's strapped into a seat on a Pelican, staring at a whole troop of other mercs, who aren't even looking at him because they know he's one of them now. He's killed for Hargrove, just like them. 

I can't, he thinks, because he knows in his gut that they're going to fight the people of Chorus, maybe going to fight the rest of his friends. I can't do this, I have to do this, and he tells the Mark IV, Safety off—

Target acquired.

Wash flinches, his head jolting against his helmet. He's already lifting his gun, tracking—

What?

Flashes and shouts and explosions all around him. He's back at Crash Site Alpha, near the control room for the tractor beam. Wash realizes what this means: Hargrove is grounded on Chorus, he's not hiding behind the moons, they're so close if only help could find them—

Wash is going to kill anyone who tries to help Tucker.

As he understands this, the Mark IV pulls his fingers, fires his rifle, and he sees a soldier of Chorus fall. 

Shit.

Wash stumbles back—he's thinking, Safety on, safety on, but the Mark IV doesn't work that way, doesn't listen to him until the mission is complete; it's letting him back out of this room, but the instant he sees another enemy—

That's when he runs into somebody. Spins around.

"Agent Washington, sir? You're alive—uh, I mean, don't kill me?"

Lieutenant Palomo.

Wash has trained him, instructed him, cussed him out. But Palomo is not part of his team. In the worst part of his heart, Wash knows that Palomo is disposable.

But Tucker was so proud of leading his squad.

Wash is so tired of hurting people.

"Hargrove's on Chorus," Wash blurts out, and realizes the next second that anyone would already know that, because why else would Hargrove try to seize control of the tractor beam—

Target acquired, says the Mark IV, and Wash is lifting his gun, is aiming—

He thinks, No.

He thinks, No, and Stop,  and time slows down again, fraying into milliseconds as the Mark IV rattles ones and zeroes through his brainstem, reroutes his nerve impulses, and Wash thinks No, no, stop, NO, and he struggles against it, his spine rigid, his fingers numb and shaking—

he didn't do this for Caboose, he's ashamed of that already, but he didn't have time with Caboose

—and the Mark IV drones, Initiating failsafe, and everything goes dark.

Wash wakes up back on the Staff of Charon. He has a dull, aching sense that several hours have passed.

And he realizes: I disobeyed orders.

Tucker is going to pay for it.