#you want real caboose this is real caboose: I’m not fucking fine

[cosmic-hoboandthehighlander]

Gonna be so for real right now

Real life fucking sucks, this is why i spend so much time writing fics and binge watching Doctor Who because I’ll tell you right now I can’t afford my damn student loan payments and I’m sorry but no amount of skipping out on $7 coffee and not going out to eat is going to help me pay over $600 a month for just one set of loans; that money (and more than that!) has to go towards my rent, my electric bill, my internet so I can even pay those other fucking bills and idk groceries and gas in the car so I can even get to work to make the money

But hey. Go ahead and make me feel like shit for buying coffee before work to keep my ass awake because I can’t afford adhd meds or therapy.

[clocks-are-round]

WHAT THE FUCK. After finding that last snippet I did more digging in my google docs. what the fuckk hahaha

it’s titled “april fools” from March 2022, so like exactly two years ago. i have cued it for the next April 1st

some things are best left unpublished but frankly i don’t like to take that much psychic damage and NOT inflict it on the next idly curious RvB fan.

i remember now, i was going to write a fic with the most bastardized fandomy takes on each character possible but i legitimately can’t tell if that psa was a real attempt at that or if i physically could not bring myself to (likely) and went for the easier to deal with ‘react to fandom’ instead

Prepare for lots of Donut innuendos

(it’s not actually that bad, i very much did back out of the initial concept immediately, it just caught me really off guard haha)

——

I’m going t o fucking c r y. this was pain to write. (first thing i wrote. haven’t even written the fic yet)

fandom cringe versions plZ i hate it

Simmons: ;w; anxiety boi

Grif: uwu sleepy boi

Caboose: owo can do no wrong boi

Donut: owo can do no wrong femboi

i don’t know if i can do this. holy shit. i know it’s for april fools but if it causes pain to write aren’t i the fool?

ImPorTaNt RvB PSA

Simmons: Hi everyone, I’m Dick Simmons from popular webseries Red vs Blue.

Grif: And I’m Dexter Grif from the same show.

Caboose: And I am Caboose

Simmons: … Hi Caboose.

Caboose: What are we talking about today?

Caboose: And now, the weather! Spoiler, it is rain.

Simmons: Uh… No idea how to segue that back. So, we’re supposed to read these fan stories. This first one is about me and Grif it looks like, and– Wait, wait what??

Grif: What? What is it, let me see. *starts laughing hysterically*

Simmons: *flustered* What is this mushy gushy romance stuff? I’d just– I’d just like to set the record straight that if I did hypothetically have feelings for a person that I knew I totally wouldn’t do that. I mean, pine for somebody? For a decade? That’s some bullshit, any self-respecting person would move on in that amount of time–

Lopez: [Honestly, you two are not subtle. Even I’ve noticed and I try my hardest to ignore you all.]

Grif: You would! You would act like that around a crush! Holy shit, they nailed you, Simmons!

Donut: Did someone say Donut?

Donut: Wait a minute! Fanfiction?? Those are my people! Let me host this one please please please? I’ll be the hostess with the mostest! I’ll put my Donut whole into it!

Simmons: Yeah, I need to go bleach my eyes, so be my guest.

Grif: And I just wanted to watch Simmons die as he read all this. It’s no fun if it’s you, Donut.

Donut: Well, I’m excited. I can’t wait to read how deep they’ve penetrated into you and Simmons’ relationship! Looks like you two are in a lot of these.

Simmons: Lalala I can’t hear you. I can’t hear anything and therefore do not need to respond to any awkward topics.

Donut: Ooh, they’re all romantic.

Grif: Oh god, yeah, let’s go.

Doc: Could I be co-host? I haven’t helped host one of these in forever!

Donut: I thought you didn’t like this kind of thing?

Doc: Well, we’re keeping it PG, I’ll be just fine.

Donut: Ehhhh

Doc: Donut. We’re keeping it PG, right? *O’Malley* I hope not. I’d like to see some carnage. Shut up, you fool. It’s fiction. *Doc* I didn’t say anything. *O’Malley* You were about to chastise me.

Donut: Depends… does PG stand for pornogr–

Doc: Donut! *O’Malley* Or pussy grande. *Doc* O’Malley! There’s way more out there than just smut! Even in the romance genre there are comedies, introspective pieces, adventure, slice-of-life, drama…

Donut: Well, yeah, but I figured we could do a little of everything.

Lopez: [Jesus christ, just choose one. I’m going to burn this anyways.]

Donut: Good idea, Lopez! Burn it to discs! We can send them out as audiobooks!

Lopez: [I meant in a fire.]

Donut: Yeah, it is a fire idea, Lopez. Jeez, now you’re just fishing for compliments. *clears throat*

Doc: We’re doing a “safe for work” one, right? *O’Malley mutters* You are a wet, wretched blanket. I hope you know that.

Donut: Yeah, yeah. Jeez. Now I have to clear my throat dramatically again! *clears throat*

——

you know what? fuck it. this is about in line with my other fake psas maybe i’ll complete it and post it on ao3. eventually. on an april 1st, naturally lol

[texas-hates-taxes-too]

A Very Red Christmas in Blood Gulch

I have this scene stuck in my head, sorry if its not super great, its been a long time since I wrote anything decent

Hope you enjoy!

---

"Merry Christmas, Sarge!" Donut saluted quickly (and improperly) before shoving a gift bag towards Sarge.

"Appreciated, now where's everyone else?"

"Just coming, sir", simmons wandered into the room with Grif in tow. Simmons was in his undersuit but Grif was still in pyjamas, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed, which he probably had. Lopez came in last.

"Good. Now men, today is the greatest, and reddest, holiday of them all. Christmas! And so we will be celebrating appropriately. Here's your cards."

Sarge quickly handed each of them a card.

"Uhh, where we supposed to be getting gifts? Because I didnt so that", Grif yawned while opening his card.

"Grif, I would expect nothing more than for you to be a disappointment even on the reddest holiday of the year, which is why I entrusted Simmons with buying a gift for me in your name"

Simmons was currently staring at the front of his card with watery eyes. The card said 'Merry Christmas to my Son'.

"....dude, are you crying?" Grif hadnt been moved at all by his own card, which also said son on the front but had a torrent of insults written inside it.

"What, no! Of course not." Simmons quickly dried his eyes and then handed over two gifts to sarge, "Merry Christmas, sir. Thank you for the card."

"Kissas"

"Shut up"

Donut looked over to where lopez was staring at his card, he couldn't really tell how lopez felt about it, because lopez didn't have a face, but luckily Donut was pretty good-ish at reading body language.

"Don't like your card, Lopez? Whats wrong, do you not like Christmas?... ohh, are you Jewish? We shouldn't have assumed"

".......No. No soy judío. Soy un robot."

Donut turned to Lopez, "robots can still celebrate holidays! I heard that Sheila is celebrating," he said teasingly, "I also heard caboose got her a really nice present, you'll have to get her something really good if you're gonna win her heart!"

Lopez didn't say anything but he walked away after few moments.

"Ah young robot love." donut sighed.

"Time to go deliver cards to the blues, men" sarge picked up his gun and another 6 cards before heading out.

"Fine, but I'm not putting clothes on." Grif grumbled before leaving, still in his pyjamas.

Donut grabbed more gift bags and skipped out after them.

Simmons was last to leave, he had taken his card back to his bunk and was just sitting looking at it. It was stupid, he thought, to get so emotional about something as small as a card. But he just couldn't help it, the card and the words on it were the best gift he'd gotten in years. He gave it one last look and smiled before running out to join the others.

---

Lopez had joined them on the walk over.

"Did you find a gift for Sheila, Lopez?" Donut asked as they walked.

"Si." Lopez held up a spanner that he'd stuck a red bow on.

"Aww, I bet she'll love it!"

Grif leaned into Simmons. "Whats a tank gonna do with a spanner?" He whispered.

"...why are you asking me?"

They arrived at blue base.

"Hellooo! We're here for Christmas!" Donut yelled.

Church stumbled out of blue base still in his pyjamas.

"Hey, shut the fuck up reds, people are trying to sleep!"

"At 12pm? You're worse than Grif." Simmons responded.

"Not true, I'd get up at 3pm if you'd let me."

Sarge put his gun away and pulled out some cards.

"Alright blue, get the rest of your filthy buddies out here, we've got cards for ya"

"And presents!" Donut added.

"Presents?!" Caboose poked his head out of blue base's entry way, he was already fully dressed in armor.

"Here's yours, caboose!" Donut held out a dark blue gift bag for Caboose who quickly ran over like an excited puppy.

"Oh I love gifts! I got gifts for all of you too! Just wait here and I'll go get them."

"Now wait a minute there blue, I gotta give you your card", sarge handed caboose a card and then tossed another at church.

"I don't celebrate Christmas" church said flatly, bot bothering to open the card.

"Of course you don't, you're a blue and this is a red holiday! Consider this an act of war!" Sarge yelled back.

"Thats not— y'know what, nevermind"

Church wandered back into blue base.

"Tell the rest of your buddies to get out here!" Sarge shouted after him.

Caboose had torn open the his card and was slowly reading through it. His card said 'to my son' like the reds' cards but had 'blue' written in pen above the word son, inside it had a message about how caboose was pretty great for a blue and would always be welcome on red team (if he was willing to give up his blue ways).

"Aww, thank you seargent!" Caboose picked up sarge to big him a big hug, "I like being on blue team, but the card is very very nice."

Sarge tried to look unbothered by the bone crushing hug.

"Dont mention it blue." He crossed his arms, "seriously, never, ever mention it."

Eventually Tex and Tucker stumbled out the base, looking similarly dressed to church.

"Why did Church wake me up just to talk to you guys?" Tucker groaned.

"We brought gifts! For Christmas." Donut held up the gift bags to show them.

"Oh so this Christmas thing is actually a celebration and not just an excuse to get drunk?" Tex joked.

"Seriously, Tex, what planet were you born on that you haven't heard of Christmas before?"

"Earth"

"I dont buy it"

"Ahem!" Sarge interrupted their conversation. "Here."

The two took their cards as well as their gifts from Donut.

"How did you actually get cards that say 'to my enemy' on them?" Tex asked.

"To Minor Junior Private Tucker negative third class— thats not a real rank— have a terrible Christmas, lots of hate, from red seargent of the red army, the greatest army in all of blood gulch." Tucker read his card out. "Gee thanks."

"Your welcome."

"Thanks for the invitation to join red team Sarge but unless your gonna pay me I have to decline." Tex's card had included a very inspiring message about how great things would be if she joined the red team.

"Hey sarge, you want me to pay Tex 300 bucks to join red team?" Simmons asked.

"You clearly don't know my prices."

Caboose came back out the base carrying a pile of haphazardly wrapped gifts.

"I brought my gifts presents, here you go!" Caboose's tossed a gift at each of the reds. Each one was clearly some sort of gift wrapped weapon.

"Thanks.... caboose..." Grif said, looking at what was definitely a hand pistol.

"Oh I love grenades!" Donut said, "thank you caboose, these are perfect."

Caboose grinned.

"Your welcome!"

"Oh! You know what, I've actually been wanting to get a knife for ages," Simmons said, "thanks Caboose."

"Mm. No blue shotgun will ever replace my superior red shotgun, but I... appreciate it," Sarge said reluctantly.

"What did you get, Lopez?" Donut asked.

"Un rifle roto. voy a encontrar a Sheila."

"Huh, hey Caboose did you know that the gun you gave Lopez is broken?"

"Yes."

Tucker looked between caboose and lopez.

"This is getting weird again, I'm going back in."

Tex turned to the reds.

"Well thanks for coming by but we've got our own Christmas stuff to do I assume, see ya"

"Ah yes. I better go too, bye guys! Thanks for the presents, Merry Christmas!" Caboose yelled before running back inside.

"Well that was nice, should we go back?" Donut asked, " I made Christmas snacks and they're ready to eat!"

Why didn't you say so, let's go" Grif turned away and started heading back to red base, going faster than he had on the way there.

They all started heading after him, ready for a day of very-red Christmas celebrations.

Sarge watched his team with a strange warm feeling in his chest.

"Merry Christmas, boys."

[pinkysfaultorbrainsfault]

animaniacs - s1e40: puppet rulers

episode summary: after seeing how small children react to the characters on their favourite tv show, brain decides that he and pinky will be children’s tv characters, too, before cryogenically freezing themselves for long enough that nostalgia tricks everyone into loving them enough to... elect them world leaders.

because people are totally thinking about old cartoons thirty years after they came off the air, right? that’s a thing normal people do.

the rundown:

we open in 1954.

nobody knows when in 1954 though, because whoever owns this calender isn’t ticking off the days. never mind! i’m sure they have more important things to do.

like welding some shit together, or whatever, like this guy is doing. “there. albert einstien’s latest experiment will be a powerful success.” if it’s albert einstien’s experiment, i don’t know why he hired this guy to do it, but i guess that’s between the big man and himself.

turns out the experiment only needs to be “powerful enough to pull five boxcars and a little caboose”, which is fine. fair enough if albert einstien wants to outsource production of his trainset. he’s probably busy being photographed for ridiculous facebook memes that say shit like “masks give you HIV”. 🙄 

meanwhile, as the music swells and the theme tune comes into the musical layers, we see pinky walking towards brain, who is preparing his coffin. it has a little alarm clock on it so he doesn’t miss bill nye the science guy.

“i’m finished, pinky.” he proclaims. he sure is. “with this cryonic capsule, we shall freeze ourselves and awaken fourty years in the future.” which i suppose is a little less morbid than, yknow, being dead. and bill nye should still be on tv, so it isn’t all bad.+

“egad, brain. what will we do in the future?”

“i don’t know, pinky, but it has to be better than what we’re doing now.”

i feel for him. i have never seen these mice in a well equipped cage. would it kill y’all to put some fucking climbers in there??? jesus.

suddenly, some children appear.

“uncle albert,” they cry. “uncle albert, it’s time.” ominous.

“but kiddies, uncle albert is doing an experiment and did you say it’s time.”

ominous! fortunately, “time” here means “time to sit down and watch tv.”

“hey kids!” says the friendly propellor worm on screen. “what time is it?” it is in fact “TIME FOR MEANIE!” as uncle albert and his fluffy brood proudly complain. yaaaay!

YAAAAAAAAAY.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY.

anyway turns out meany’s a bit of a dick.

pinky and brain watch on as the worm gets beaten to death. they are not particularly interested in the violence taking place, until Tiny Einstien Boy Edition (tinestien?) mentions that he wishes “treacle and meanie was president.”

to which brain makes this face.

hm. this is the face i make at my dentist when he asks to see if i’ve been maintaining my crown. sorry that my last dentist exploded my teeth or whatever. that’s kind of why i’m here.

“pinky, are you pondering what i’m pondering?” i want to take a moment out here to point out how fucking tiny brain is pinky is laying on his chest. horizontal and he is still taller than brain i just/?? he’s so fucking small. pinky could just pick him up. he couldn’t do anything. pinky could fucking yeet him like a basketball. or maybe just give him a nice hug.

anyway it turns out brain finally has a use for his cryochamber! he wants to get himself on Time For Meany and “endear himself in the hearts of children.”

anyway so once those kids grow up and become world leaders, they will remember brain fondly enough in their hearts so that... when he thaws out, they’ll, uh, elect him president. not entirely... foolproof, perhaps? but on the other hand if the nice couple from out of the box ran for joint prime minister i’d be pretty hype about it. out of the box doot doot out of the box.

pinky wants his show name to be “big ears.”

brain is more into the idea of being The Iconoclast, an Unconventional Eccentric Who Marches To A Different Drummer. privately that sounds like every single half-bearded nerd man at uni who basically accused me of having my boyfriend do all my coursework for me. does brain intend to hang around cardboard forbidden planet and tell the puppet girls that they don’t have the right to be into guardians of the galaxy? is brain going to be passive aggressive about that 2:2 i got in sculpting and rigging, thomas?????

“oh. i thought maybe you could be noodle noggin.”

we then cut to the studio, where the Fat Ceo Man wants the puppeteer to come up with new puppet characters for the next show. unfortunately, the next show is in three minutes, so he’s not very happy.

good thing he gets this suspicious package in the mail, eh?

as expected, it’s full of mice.

“oh my gosh!” cries our man, who has never seen a mouse before, apparently. “talking puppets!”

“actually we are two laboratory mice who wish to be on your show as part of an intricate plan to take over the world.”

“oh, wow, these are really good.”

so the boys make it on! they probably gave mr puppet man a religious experience, but we don’t see him again, so it’s fine.

“hold it, meany! everyone must meet our two new friends! this is big ears! take a bow, big ears!”

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY.

“and i am the iconoclast, an unconventional eccentric who marches to a different drummer--”

“but you may call me noodle noggin.”

you can’t see it very well in the last image, because uncle albert’s calender is in the way, but this is basically every episode. big ears says something, noodle noggin says something else that’s slightly more pretentious, meany hits him with a big stick.

everyone fucking loves it.

(fuck me. i never actually looked at this screencap close up before. why is pinky in a mousetrap?? why does it have their real names on it???? and why the FUCK do i not have a little brain toy in his own tiny wagon??? hello??? socialist police????)

unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and all projects with talking mice in it must be cancelled absurdly early. and an elmyra reboot of big ears and noodle noggin would be pointless, because brain already gets hit on the head in every episode, so eventually brain has to make the announcement.

“this program has been our last show.” he just sort of... says it, and you can tell pinky definitely wasn’t expecting it. he looks genuinely sad.

but not as sad as the children. even mousetrap pinky looks distraught.

the mice don’t care, obviously, and waste no time in jetting back to the Studio Fridge to activate their cryonic chamber, where pinky makes a very interesting point.

“but brain, why are we freezing ourselves at the height of our popularity?

“to stay fresh in their memory, pinky. we must, to paraphrase milton berle, ‘leave them wanting more’. i’ll see you in the future, pinky.”

there are no good frames for that portion of dialogue but whatever! let’s see how well that goes for them.

conclusion:

so the first thing the boys do upon waking up from ice and dust is to broadcast themselves on tv. “remember me?” asks brain. “it’s your old pal, the iconoclast.”

“and his old pal! zort! big ears!”

it’s very cute.

unfortunately these people are less impressed. they just sort of point, in a scary way. brain invites them all down to the tv station to “shower us in praise and material gifts,” and waits for the fans’ inevitable arrival.

“at last, we can write our own ticket, pinky. no longer in glorious suffering.” alright, hubert von vestra! calm down.

which is when the fans show up. hopefully the fact that they are all morbidly obese is like... coincidental, or to show off the fact that they’re all wearing kid tshirts, right? surely pinky and the brain wouldn’t tell me, a disabled person, that fat people are Bad And Losers? surely not.

“at last, my public has come to shower me with gifts.”

“guess again, noodle noggin!”

“huh.”

“you abandoned us!” cries the crowd. “you went away! you ruined our lives!” as brain tries to grapple with the fact that they are not, in fact, worshipping his image (and uploading pictures of him in the garden of mindy dress to e621) they present him with inordinately expensive therapy bills, because america be that way.

“PAY EM.” yells a gruff man with terrible facial hair. pinky and brain decide they would rather not.

honestly, i’m going to have to give this one to brain. sorry, brain. pinky did make the point earlier, and maybe if brain had thought about it, they might have been able to edit the plan a little and have things work out differently?

or maybe he was just tired of getting hit on the head all the time. ask pinky about that one, b.

brain: 3 pinky: 3 outside influence: 5

“quickly, pinky, we have work to do.”

“you mean taking over the world?”

“no. like finding a good hiding place.”

[goobergamer]

Welcome to the Real World, Chpt. 4/?

Summary: ‘The real world’ is Marine Corps slang referring to civilian life after discharge.

Or, Washington, new and struggling veteran, moves into a duplex where he has a strange and surly neighbor with a penchant for the color red. (Sargington modern war vets AU)

Pairing: Sarge/Washington (Red vs. Blue)

Warnings: Alcohol use in this chapter

First chapter on Tumblr here: (x). Also crossposted to AO3.

Wash is a chronic homebody rapidly chewing through the books on his shelf and the TV shows he can stand to be semi-present for. The phone never rings when he’s there, but he still can’t help and check every morning and night hoping the voicemail light will have come on.

He’s pretty sure he saw a couple of his teammates when he was taken in by the medical team, half-coherent. No one has been in touch since, through his care or discharge. He’s not sure what he expects them to say. Wish you were here, xoxo? Sorry you’ve cracked? (He’s not crazy.) Thanks for compromising the mission, asshole? How could you have fucked up so badly?

Wash isn’t sure. But he thinks he’d take any of it over the dead light and the dial tone.

---

It just keeps getting hotter as they approach midsummer, and one day when Wash steps outside straight into a wall of humidity, Sarge joins him only to suggest that he come inside for coffee so they don’t just up and die on the porch from the weather.

Wash is pleasantly surprised when Sarge gives him a tour of the downstairs space; it’s cluttered, but not a junk pile as he may have guessed. Rather, the home looks lovingly lived-in. A card table is open in the corner of the living room, with parts and tools for some sort of electronics project scattered across it. The TV stand is covered in small piles of DVDs; at quick glance Wash sees serious war documentaries mingling with old family sitcoms.

Of course, it still shows little signs of Sarge’s quirkiness beyond the multiple locks on the door. Despite the gun cabinet standing against the wall with his scarlet beret sitting atop it, there’s a shotgun casually leaned up against the coffee table that Wash only hopes has the safety on. Everything that can come in different colors is red in Sarge’s apartment; upholstery, painted wood, you name it. There’s a strawberry Yoo-hoo balanced on the couch armrest, and Wash halfway wonders if the flavor was chosen to fit the color scheme.

They take their coffee on very red chairs at the very red table in the kitchen. Sarge is polite enough to only harass Wash for two straight minutes about how he takes his coffee (“Washington, without sugar you’ll have no energy to defend yourself!” “Defend myself from what?”) The new location doesn’t change much until Wash asks, “Which way to your bathroom? Is your side of the duplex the same as mine?”

“Flipped. Upstairs to the left.”

When Wash walks into the bathroom, it takes him a moment to register what’s off. At first he thinks Sarge had installed a full-size towel rack above the sink, but after stepping closer, he sees that a bath towel has simply been strung across the medicine cabinet to cover it.

He remembered, Wash realizes. He remembered the mirror.

Something in his throat tightens, almost imperceptibly. It was a small, simple gesture, but an appreciated one all the same, at a time when the world feels minimal in its kindness.

---

When Wash hears a knock on his door early one evening, he only pauses a moment before opening it without the chain in place, having an easy enough guess of who it will be. “Hey, Sarge. Something you need?”

Sarge is leaning against the doorframe all too casually, an atypical grin splitting his face in two. “Washington, when was the last time you went out anywhere?”

Wash pauses for a moment, thinking. “I go running every day? Beyond that, I picked up groceries three days ago.”

Sarge switches battle tactics. “When was the last time you went somewhere to do something fun?”

Wash has a sinking, suspicious feeling he knows the ballpark where this is heading. “...I don’t mind grocery shopping.”

“...Well, that answers that.” Sarge chuckles. He doesn’t seem too surprised. Wash supposes he can’t really be insulted; a serious answer to Sarge’s question would have been ‘on shore leave over a year ago’.

“There’s a legion a couple towns over,” Sarge continues. “A few of the guys I know are catching up there tonight! There will be drinks! General merriment! And YOU are cordially invited!”

“I wouldn’t know any of the people there.”

“I can introduce ya’!”

Wash knows that Sarge isn’t the type to take no for an answer when his mind is set on something. And he has to acknowledge that he has become a hermit in the months since his discharge, to an unsustainable extent. At some point he’ll have to reconnect with the real world. May as well do it with a friend to guide him. “Alright, fine.”

“That’s the spirit!”

They take Sarge’s Ford, a decades-spanning oddity; the truck itself is from the 70’s, but has a new high-tech radio system Sarge says he installed himself. The radio will only tune into an obnoxious polka station from god knows where and which Sarge will claim no fault in his installation process for. The drive is still nice with the windows rolled low, Sarge resting his elbow on the sill as he steers with one hand, Wash turning in his seat so the early evening sun shines down on his face.

They’re quickly hailed by a chorus of both greetings and heckling from a far table when Sarge leads the way into the Legion. There’s one chair left open for Sarge when they approach, but he grabs another one from an empty table and plants it next to his own for Wash, the nearest guy shuffling over to make more space.

“Men, this is Washington,” Sarge announces when they’ve settled in. Wash receives some amicable nods and hello’s from the ensemble; apparently Sarge doesn’t think more introduction is necessary, and neither do they. “Washington, this is Tucker, Caboose, Donut, Lopez, Simmons, and Grif.” There’s a surly element to his tone when he introduces the last one, who seems unperturbed, just offering Wash a late “‘Sup?” before some earlier conversation picks back up.

Wash takes the time to examine the group unnoticed, observing that they look ragtag in more ways than one. They’re all young, younger than Wash, though it's not always easy to tell under the scars; the majority of this group look like they had to physically claw their way out of warzones. Wash can pick out four prosthetics between what he can see of just two of the people at the table, and with the extent of Lopez’s, he might guess prosthetic legs were hidden out of sight too. Grif and...Donut? sport some major scarring visible above the table. Grif’s scars, a layer of patchworks across his cheek and down one arm, look too clean to be from anything in-field; skin grafts, maybe? With Donut’s ear and eye gone, and the side of his nose and lips halfway there, it’s easy to assume that he took something hard straight to the face.

“—Before I can catch whatever gave Private Pinhead that stroke of inspiration, I’m going to get a drink!” Sarge huffs, brushing off a conversation with Grif to rise. “You want something, Washington?”

“Oh, I—whatever you’re getting is fine. Thanks.” Wash reaches for his wallet to offer him payment for the drink, but Sarge has already moseyed over to the bar.

“So, Washington, how do you know Sarge?” Simmons asks, all attention now turning to the new guy.

“He’s my neighbor.”

“Man, that sucks,” Tucker replies, though obviously without true rancor.

“Could be worse. He could live next to Donut,” Grif says.

“Hey!”

“That’s right, has Lopez gotten his insurance pay back after that fire yet?”

“No.”

“Hey, I said sorry, I didn’t think a hair dryer could overheat like that! I guess I’d been doing too much blowing.”

Amidst a chorus of groans, Sarge returns with a pina colada in each hand. “Can’t believe the bartender didn’t card me! They’re supposed to card anyone under forty.”

“And why would they card you, again?” Wash asks as he takes one of the drinks. Sarge’s efforts to convince Wash that he’s some ludicrous age are drowned out by amused laughter from others at the table.

The longer Wash is there with them, the more he feels himself settling into the rhythm of the conversation, becoming comfortable enough to laugh and joke along. By the end of the night, he’s been wrapped up into a number of ridiculous and crazy anecdotes that tell him two things: Sarge surrounds himself only with those that are as insane as himself, and that Wash has had the best night in as many weeks despite his hesitation before he came.

“They’re idiots, but they’re my idiots,” Sarge says fondly in the car on the way home.

“I can see why. They’re good guys.”

“We’re there every week. Just let me know if you want to come along again.” Washington looks at Sarge, but Sarge is cheerfully watching the road as he says it.

It’s an unexpected offer, but certainly not unwelcome as he thinks about the dark apartment he’s about to return to. Remembering the warmth of the rum and the night’s festivities is a strong pull. “I just might take you up on that.”

[randomly-random-jen]

The Completely Inaccurate Misadventures [3/?]

[part 1] [part 2]

3. Abandonment Issues

Hours passed. Then days. And Church had to come to terms with it.

“She’s not coming back.”

Tex was stretched out in the grass, staring at the sky. “Church-”

“No. She’s just not. What if something happened to her? I’m supposed to run her equipment. Keep her safe. What if she went on with the mission without me and got hurt? Oh god.” He felt sick.

“Carolina’s a big girl. She can take care of herself, and she’s been running her equipment on her own since she got it. She’ll be fine.”

He looked away. “Right. She doesn’t need me.”

Tex rolled over then crawled to where he was sitting. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s true.”

Then she slapped him. He fell back, cheek stinging. “What the fuck, Tex? What was that for?”

“Would you snap out of it. You sound like an emo sixteen-year-old whose boyfriend broke up with her. I’m just waiting for the depressing music to start.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to be Church. I want you to stop crying and get angry and curse and being fucking annoying.”

They stared at each other for a long time. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t explain the way he was feeling.

“You miss her.”

He bit his lip then pressed his hands into his eyes. “I love her,” he mumbled. 

Tex gave him a look he felt more than saw.

“Not like that. What is wrong with you?” He got up and stomped away, but there was only so far he could go from the memory unit. There was a little stream about ten meters from home base. He sat at the edge wishing he could feel the water on his feet. Wishing he could do anything at all besides wait.

After a while, Tex appeared next to him. “The memory unit is running out of power.”

“I know. I’ve shut down as many subroutines as I can.” He shrugged. “Not much else I can do.”

“What will happen?”

“I guess we cease to exist.” He reached down and tied his shoe again. “Probably for the best.”

She wrapped him in a hug. “Don’t say that, Church.”

He sighed. “I don’t know what else to do. I can’t believe she abandoned me.”

“I’m sorry,” Tex whispered. “It’s my fault. I told you she hates me.”

Church didn’t respond to that. It was pointless to argue with Tex.

“She’s an amazing woman,” Tex said softly.

“Yeah. No thanks to me. Unless you count being a heartless bastard that ignores his kid an influence on how strong she becomes.”

“How many times do I have to tell you-”

“That wasn’t me. Right, whatever.” He shoved her off. “I can’t take credit for the good parts of her and ignore the pain I caused. God, Tex, you weren’t there. You don’t remember. You don’t even have memories of your own. You’re my memories of you. And I’m just the memories of someone else. How fucked up is that?”

She was gone without a sound.

“Good riddance.” Except he didn’t mean it at all. He pulled his legs up to his chest and buried his face in his knees. He could feel the memory unit slowly pulling him back as the power ran lower. He wasn’t sure he cared anymore. There was a tingling at the base of his skull that wouldn’t go away. Reluctantly, he popped back to the memory unit. “What?”

Tex looked more defeated than he’d ever seen. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“What? You hate goodbyes.”

“I know.” She wouldn’t look at him. “The power’s failing so I’m leaving.”

“How?” His head was spinning. What was she even talking about? “The program will just start rewriting.”

She shook her head. “No. There’s not enough power. It’ll try, but the power fluctuations will corrupt the file, stopping it.”

“Corrupt the-?” He swallowed hard. “You’re not coming back this time, are you?”

She still wouldn’t look at him.

“Please don’t do this, Tex. I’m sorry about what I said. I was just mad at myself and taking it out on you.”

“This will give you the best chance of survival. At least a few more days.”

“To do what? Sit here and feel sorry for myself?”

“To see if Carolina comes back.”

Church looked away. “She’s not.”

Tex sighed. “Church.” She looked like she wanted to say more but didn’t.

The silence grew tense. Church hurt. He wasn’t sure how a program could feel so much pain, but it could. “Please, Tex. Don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.”

She was already gone, but the tickle in the back of his mind gave one last twist. He was sure he heard the echo of her voice whisper, “I love you.” But he probably imagined that.

“Well, Fuck.”

He wished he could pick up the memory unit and throw it in the stream. Maybe it would fry the circuits and kill him faster. He considered turning everything back on and wasting what power he still had, but that seemed like a waste of Tex’s sacrifice. He sat next to the memory chip. He kind of laughed at the fact that he manifested himself sitting. Or doing anything really. Technically projecting himself from the unit was wasting a lot of extra power. He didn’t care. Tex’s sacrifice. Remember Tex’s sacrifice.

“Goddamn it.”

The inside of the unit was bleak. Darker and quieter than he even remembered. And there wasn’t power to do anything about it. He was dying. Part of him was relieved. It’d finally be over. No last-minute Hail Mary pass from Caboose to save him this time. The hours dragged on—the power lasting a lot longer than the few days Tex predicted. Too much time to think.

Too much time for him to lose containment of the memories. Little by little, they pushed into his conscious mind. He tried to stop them at first, but he was tired. They swirled in like a fatal fog, and he lay in the middle of it, just watching as every evil thing he’d ever done, every mistake, every torture relived. He was unwinding. The loss of power was making him unstable. He remembered this feeling.

He didn’t try to stop it last time, and it nearly took Wash’s mind with it. Yet another person to add to the list of people he’d destroyed. And he couldn’t blame that on the real Leonard Church. That was all Epsilon.

“Guess the list gets pretty long when you have three lifetimes to account for,” he said to no one.

Then he couldn’t move anymore. His brain felt sluggish. The memories were gone. It was all gone. Long term storage failed which was sort of a relief except now he couldn’t remember why he cared to stay alive

“Well this fucking sucks,” he yelled. “Can’t I even get one break. One fucking lousy break in this world.”

No one answered back.

“I don’t want to die,” he whispered to the dark as everything faded away.

[afterspark-podcast]

G1 Episode 35: Transcript

Episode Show Notes

[This can also be found on AO3!]

[Stinger]

S: It's like, we do get a view of what the robots seem like to the humans and it’s basically that they're massive dumbasses. 

[Intro Music]

O: Hello, and welcome to the Afterspark Podcast, an episode by episode recap of the Generation 1 Transformers cartoon.  I'm Owls.

S: And I'm Specs.

O: And today we're gonna be talking about episode number 35: Desertion of the Dinobots, Part 1. Let's talk about giant robots today, shall we?

S: Sure.

O: And I got a new mic! So hopefully I sound a little bit better because my headset mic was disappointing. 

S: You sound good to me.

O: [Laughter] I'm just hoping for an improvement, quite frankly. Today we open on a wide green field where a scientist is flying an unmanned drone via a remote.

S: The Autobots are, you know, very complimentary towards the- about the drones maneuvers and a few feet away Soundwave clearly wants a break from Decepticon shenanigans and is taking a nap in Ironhide's backseat with Blaster.

O: A very strange booty call, perhaps? 

S: Either that or him and Blaster just have, you know, scheduled naps in and, unbeknownst, to Ironhide he was their next meeting spot.

O: That seems rude to a coworker, but- but what do I know about Autobot co-worker shenanigans? Ravage then ejects from Soundwave, who is still a boom box, uh, before being detained by Blaster.

S: Did Blaster not want Ravage tattling about what they do in their downtime? 

O: Possibly. You mean boombox cuddling? Blaster kind of finishes transforming? He’s like half transformed grabbing Ravage and Soundwave gets bumped out of Ironhide before transforming himself and just flying off.

S: Oh and, to clarify, the entire scuffle with Blaster and Ravage is literally inside Ironhide's, um, caboose? 

O: Yeah they basically-

S: Trunk? I don’t know what-

O: [Laughter] The back part of his van. Basically, Ravage tackles Blaster and they sort of fall back into Ironhide. [Laughter]

S: Yeah. Yeah, it just makes the entire thing pretty awkward.

O: Why? You don't wake up with one of your mortal enemies in your backseat every day, Specs? 

S: Well, I sure as hell hope not.

O: [Laughter] 

S: So, you know, Ironhide it has some, you know,  junk going on in his- in his trunk, you see. 

O: Lord, not again. Why is it always Ironhide? It’s always Ironhide! [Laughter] 

S: He has a lot of space. 

O: This shot is just so awkward, anyway, it definitely looks like Ravage is topping Blaster inside of Ironhide and, I mean, I definitely believe that Ravage is probably a top but wow! That van is just rockin right there. [Laughter] And then Soundwave flies over to Megatron and Starscream who are hanging out upon a convenient verdant hillside.

S: And, honestly, they’re right in plain sight so I don't really get why no one notices them. The Autobots don't notice them. The humans don't notice them. Did they use an invisibility spray again or can we just see them because we're breaking the fourth wall?

O: Ah, I believe that's the power of plot convenience I smell. 

S: Starscream prepares to shoot the drone but Megatron knocks his arm down with a great bonk effect, saying something about needing to be more discreet. 

O: Discreet! You’re all standing out in the open! Soundwave was chilling in Ironhide five minutes ago, for Pete's sake!

S: Starscream says what we're all thinking, “Since when has discretion mattered to us?”

O: Megatron hands over something to him and says to use it on the drone.

S: And then, back to our opening scene, it appears Ironhide has woken up and would like to know what the fuck is going on. 

O: [Laughter] Ravage runs off and Blaster gets dumped on the ground as Ironhide transforms.

S: No one is having a good day.

O: No one is having a good day. [Laughter] 

S: Blaster explains this only as, “Rockin and rollin with savage Ravage,” which does not make it sound any less dirty. 

O: Nope.

S: Or less risque?

O: [Laughter] Ironhide exclaims that they need to tell Prime that, “Decepticons are afoot,” but considering we see the Autobots watching the drone which Starscream is flying directly over I feel like they should probably know already.

S: Yeah, I mean-

O: And- 

S: None of them have very good observational skills, let's just go with that.

O: No they don’t.

S: Except Perceptor. 

O: Yeah, but I don't think Percy's here today so they can't see shit. [Laughter] 

S: Percy's busy doing science. 

O: Percy’s, you know, busy doing his actual job, duh.

S: Man, speaking of the drone, it has a pretty weird design. Like, why does it have cockpits, let alone two? 

O: No freaking idea. Starscream drops the device Megatron gave him onto the drone and then it explodes.

S: Like what was the point of this entire thing? 

O: I don’t- don’t really know what this accomplished at all.

S: Yeah, yeah so Blaster and Ironhide run up to warn Optimus and then Blaster says that he just went three rounds with Ravage.

O: Jesus Christ. you two! This is a children’s show! [Laughter] 

S: So the Autobots roll out to check the wreckage because no one is going to address what Blaster just said.

O: [Laughter] No one- no one is going to address this. Okay!

S: Yeah and so along with them are: Jazz, Hound, and Mirage who were also, I guess, just hanging out doing whatever. 

O: Not fucking Ravage? [Laughter]

S: [Laughter]

O: But Megatron has a scheme while the Autobots are distracted. To which I say he could have just left Ravage in Ironhide’s back seat I feel like that was distracting enough but what do I know?

S: I don't know, man. And- and onwards to a very 80s lab in stylish Autobot orangey-yellow.

O: Don't you just hate it when you're working and the entirety of Decepticon High Command Kool-Aid Man's their way into your workspace?

S: Yeah and, honestly, Starscream just looks weirdly pale in this shot. Maybe imitating the Kool-Aid Man doesn't agree with him. 

O: See I think they just failed to get his makeup right for this shot, don't you?

S: Yeah, yeah, I think that's more likely.

O: [Laughter] 

S: Megatron tells the scientists to hand over the blueprints and he'll let them live.

O: Starscream gets mad and thinks Megatron's being soft and stomps in and picks up one of the scientists, threatening him with his null-ray.

S: It's like, Starscream, I'm not sure what that's- 

O: Helping? 

S: Yeah.

O: How is that helping? 

S: Yeah. The scientist just, like, points out where the blueprints are- are stored and then he's perfectly fine when Starscream just tosses them to the ground so, it’s like, okay? 

O: They go to open the vault, but the Autobots arrive. 

S: Why is the vault so big? Because it's, like, Decepti- it's like giant robot scaled.

O: They have extra big secrets to store inside? 

S: Oh god it's like the ‘her hair’s so big it's full of secrets.’

O: Except a door, a vault. Whatever.

S: Yeah. Oh and Jazz proceeds to distract Starscream with, you know, his loud music and light show.

O: But Megatron is apparently unaffected by this and goes to shoot the Autobots but then his fusion cannon is yanked off his arm by an invisible Mirage.

S: Mirage actually gets to use his ability today! 

O: What a concept.

S: Yeah.

O: And then Megatron basically runs over and kicks Mirage in the nads in an effort to grab his fusion cannon back from him.

S: No one's having a good day. [Laughter] 

O: [Laughter] No one is having a good day. 

S: And then Megs is then seen across the room, beckoning Soundwave and Starscream to follow him out of their Kool-Aid Man hole. 

O: Soundwave and Starscream clearly don't have any peripheral vision to speak of, you know, like the Autobots, and fly off- not noticing that the real Megatron is still very much in the same room as them and very much still trying to get this fusion cannon back from Mirage.

S: A fusion cannon and tug of war just doesn't seem to go well for anyone.

O: Right! Well, they're doing it from the sides, they're doing the smart thing where I don't think they're pulling on the actual barrel but, you know, while it’s pointed at them but still, yes.

S: Yeah, but yeah, you're right no one has peripheral vision or you know any observational skills. 

O: It was funny, too, when we were watching it, cuz even I was like, how the fuck did he get over there? And I totally thought it was an animation error. [Laughter]

S: I mean, if there was smoke or something you could forgive-

O: Yeah, yeah.

S: There is zero smoke. 

O: Yeah, there's nothing, like, you know, making it harder for them to see or anything. 

S: Yeah, and then Optimus comes in out of stage left, kicking Megatron, you know, in his keister, you know, through a wall. 

O: Megatron retreats. 

S: Now we suddenly cut to an amusement park, complete with carnival music and Ferris Wheels!

O: And after some shots of various carnival sites we are greeted with Bumblebee on the teacups with Spike and Carly.

S: This is, like, super poorly drawn but it's functioning like the teacup ride so I guess that's what we're calling it.

O: We gotta call it something. 

S: Or I think- yeah. Huh. Bumblebee is confused about why the ride is supposed to be fun until Carly, you know, just opens him up and turns off his equilibrium circuits.

O: Why-why does Carly know how to do that? Should I be concerned? 

S: She's a super genius and she is not afraid to, you know, effectively do internal surgery on her robot friends.

O: Ain't that the truth. The three of them seem to have a very full day planned as after they leave at the amusement park they go stop by the airport to pick up Sparkplug and, Oh God, Sparkplug is in a suit!

S: He's in a waistcoat, even! Why was he in a suit? Is he their legal representative? Or, perhaps, is he a more traditional flyer? 

O: [Laughter] Most interesting man in the world? 

S: Let's go with both.

O: Why not, why not? 

S: Spike sees two military jets fly into a hangar and questions why they're at a commercial airport.

O: Completely missing that their paint jobs clearly identify them as Thundercracker and Thrust. 

S: Oh god, maybe- maybe those are weirdly common paint schemes in their universe.

O: That- that would be strange. That would definitely be strange. 

S: It would be. I don't know. So, you know, Spike and company follow the mysterious jets and surprise! Decepticons! How did they even get out of the airport?

O: There wasn't airport security in the eighties, Specs.

S: That’s true.

O: Certainly not like there is now, anyway, besides they have, you know, the best pass in the world: the “My Best Friend is a Giant Alien Robot Pass” since Bee was in the airport with them.

S: Yes, but how did he get through the doors? 

O: Pfft- he got into an arcade, I'm pretty sure an airports no problem. Um, Bee calls Prime for backup but they're still cleaning up their mess at the lab they were out previously and Prime calls headquarters, instead.

S: Oh, they're just playing phone tag. So Optimus reaches Wheeljack and deems it necessary to let the Dinobots out of their baby closet.

O: Grimlock’s not happy about the orders, but Wheeljack asked nicely in his best dad voice and at the airport Bee and the Dinobots are then hiding behind a big passenger jet. 

S: God, Bee is so tiny compared to the rest of them, cuz he really comes up to their knees-

O: [Laughter]

S: But I imagine that the airport staff is having a conniption.

O: [Laughter] I would hope. Bee points to the helpfully labeled “Hangar” in all caps and tells the Dinobots the Decepticons are in there.

S: The Dinobots smash their way into the hangar, and into a bickering Starscream and Megatron. How did the airport staff not realize that-

O: Their entire warehouse or um, ware- it's not a warehouse-

S: -Hangar.

O: -Hangar was being used by evil robots? Who the fuck knows. 

S: Cuz, I mean, oh god, maybe someone was paying rent? 

O: I mean- Soundwave! Soundwave clearly set this up and was like- if we're paying rent, they won't bother us. I wouldn't blame him if that was the conclusion you reached.

S: Same!

O: [Laughter] So Slag proceeds to completely melt one of Starscream’s null-rays. 

S: No one's having a good day!

O: No one is having a good day.

S: Except maybe the Dinobots.

O: They get to destroy things.

S: Yeah. Outside Sludge saves Bumblebee by kicking Blitzwing into a wall.

O: Inside the hangar it gets Looney Tunes up in here with Snarl knocking over some barrels and the Seekers all falling on their faces.

S: That’s super Looney Tunes.

O: It's gonna get more Looney Tunes here in a moment.

S: Yeah. He also hits Rumble into Megatron and then they both fall backwards onto the computer console.

O: And Megatron just tosses Rumble off screen immediately afterwards.

S: I feel if I keep saying no one's having a good day we're just gonna be repeating that a lot so I'm gonna stop. 

O: [Laughter] 

S: Just take it as a given. Thundercracker and Thrust are taken out by Swoop and crash into the hangar, causing it to explode. And then Megatron pulls himself out of the wreckage. and orders an attack.

O: I mean, none of them are having a good day. Megatron's really not having a good day. 

S: Yeah. they’re- None of them are having a good day. At all.

O: The Dinobots have zero trouble with taking out the remaining four Decepticons by themselves because they’re the fucking Dinobots.

S: Yep, and Megatron ends up face-planting onto the floor of the airport terminal after Grimlock picks him up in his, you know, t-rex mouth and tosses him.

O: I mean, seriously, let's break this down: We've got the fusion cannon getting stolen, getting hit by Rumble, a building collapsing on him, and then getting picked up by a giant fucking t-rex! I'm just saying, that's a lot of things to pack into one day! 

S: Well, a few hours.

O: [Laughter] Yeah! Yes! It’s not even been a huge, long length of time. So he lands right in front of Spike and company and then, in the next shot, they're all outside. So did they gain teleporting powers? 

S: Maybe they just walked out the hole?

O: Past the passed out Megatron? That seems like a poor option, even if he is passed out.

S: I don't think some of them have very good survival instincts, ok.

O: [Laughter] Boy, do they not. The Dinobots returned to robot mode and Megatron and Skywarp shoot the passenger jets behind them, causing a massive explosion and sending all the Dinobots flying. 

S: I mean, that is a smart choice considering that, if they were entirely fueled up planes they'd have a hell of a lot of-

O: Fuel? Explosive fuel? Yeah.

S: Yeah. Megatron proclaims victory and not checking that the Dinobots are dead at all. 

O: Inferno, Hoist, and Red Alert show up and Hoist begins moving the Dinobots back to base.

S: By putting them into, like, one of the ruined planes and they tow it.

O: Right. I totally forgot about that.

S: It's- it seems like a really awkward way to transport your wounded.

O: [Laughter] It does, but they are so huge that I kind of understand it. So back in the Ark, Wheeljack, Ratchet, and Hoist are all trying to put the Dinobots back together.

S: And then they all wax poetic about mix- missing Cybertron and complain about the primitive tools they have to use.

O: Didn’t they- Didn’t you make them with those tools, Ratch? 

S: Yeah. Back at the airport, Powerglide is literally shitting bricks while him and Ironhide try to help repair the damage. Unfortunately, they are very bad.

O: It's like the worst building, ever. Grapple destroys it putting the roof on.

S: Did they even put a door in there? 

O: It really didn't look like it. It's funnier because Optimus seems like he's trying to direct Grapple and I want you to please envision Ro- Ron Swanson saying, “I know more than you,” for his response.

S: Yeah. Elsewhere, the Decepticons are all flying in the air before they all suddenly fall to the ground and Rumble and Ravage are both acting super strange. Ravage is running around and Rumble seemingly is not able to control himself and keeps punching Megatron.

O: Megs just sort of bats him away. I think this is, like, time number 4 getting tossed for poor Rumble this episode?

S: Yeah, poor guy’s just kind of a hacky sack. 

O: Little bit. You’re too tiny Rumble, we’re sorry. 

S: Megatron vows to figure out what the fuck is going on before we jet back over to the Ark. 

O: Wheeljack and Ratchet are putting the finishing touches on the Dinobots’ repairs.

S: Optimus calls the Ark and orders the Dinobots to stop the Decepticons who are running amok again. 

O: The Dinobots refuse after getting, you know, exploded last time and tell Optimus the kid-friendly equivalent to fuck off and then walk out.

S: And then Wheeljack and Ratchet have to watch their babies walk away.

O: So sad. The Decepticons are trying to gather Energon from a power plant in order to fix the whole, you know, falling out of the sky thing. 

S: The Autobots arrive and transform, all except for Jazz who seems to be stuck in car mode. And then Ironhide attempts some percussive maintenance and kicks him.

O: Which does, indeed, work and Jazz is able to transform the rest of the way. 

S: Megatron loses his ability to form words mid-sentence.

O: Starscream immediately proclaims himself the leader of the Decepticons before nose-diving right into a pile of Energon cubes. You know, exactly what you would expect to happen. [Laughter]

S: Ahh, things just start to go wrong. Ironhide’s-

O: Very wrong for everyone.

S: Yep, Ironhide’s Swiss Army knife powers have backfired incredibly badly, as this entire body freezes up when he goes to shoot Starscream with liquid nitrogen. 

O: Mirage thinks he has turned invisible but- but then gets beaned by Thundercracker when tried to attack him because he has not, in fact, turned invisible. 

S: Yep. Ravage successfully attacks Optimus before involuntarily transforming into tape mode.

O:  And Optimus just picks up the tape and dumps it into a barrel and I'm like, “You bastard.” 

S: Jazz proceeds to lose his groove and then Blitzwing falls into a hole of his own making. Starscream goads Megatron into action.

O: To which he responds, “If only to spite you!” Which if that doesn't summarize their entire relationship, I don't know what does.

S: True. Starscream takes aim at Optimus with Megatron in gun mode but Megatron's uh, performance leaves quite a lot to be desired.

O: Megatron then orders a retreat but the Cons are unable to fly and instead run away- on foot.

S: Back at the base, the same symptoms that are- the same- condition that seems to be affecting the Cons is also, apparently, affecting the Autobots. They have the same sort of symptoms and- yeah.

O: Optimus can barely stand.

S: And then he collapses into a pose that makes him resemble a giant toddler. It's- not very dignified.

O: No, no it is not. But fear not! Perceptor has it all figured out because, you know, Perceptor is the only Autobot that can do his damn job around here. 

S: Yeah, none of them have been eating their- well, none of them have been eating their leafy greens, effectively.

O: Or, in other words, they're missing an element that is necessary for their function.

S: Said element, of course, can only be found on Cybertron.

O: All the Autobots look worse for wear from all this but Jazz in particular is having a bad time with his bottom half stuck in car mode.

S: And, possibly, upside down. 

O: I- yeah, I can't remember and Powerglide is even missing his head. 

S: Oh dear. Yeah, cuz it's, like, not connected to his body. A headless airman, if you will? Carly and Spike run in and tell Optimus that Shockwave is sending a shipment of the missing element, Cybertonium, to earth.

O: The Autobots are, unfortunately, not in any position to do anything with this information for obvious reasons.

S: But Carly realizes that the Dinobots are still functioning normally, as they were built on Earth. And they don't include-

O: Don't require this to keep functioning, essentially.

S: Yeah, they just weren't constructed with it at all.

O: Yeah.

S: So they use Teletraan 1 to track the Dinobots down and they leave in Carly's car. 

O: Sparkplug jokes about not being sure he remembers how to drive it's been so long since he's had to drive, because they've been with the Autobots for however long.

S: Yeah, so they get there and Grimlock doesn't want to help at first, but thankfully Swoop manages to keep three humans from getting crushed. 

O: He picks up Carly's entire car.

S: That sounds about right.

O: And with a little persuasion the big ol t-rex does ultimately agree to help.

S: The Dinobots arrive at the space bridge and manage to make it past the Constructicons and actually- accidentally end up on Cybertron. I'm kind of wondering if the Constructicons have the same element issue or if they don't.

O: Well, if they showed up later than they presumably haven't been missing it for the past million years. Maybe that's why they were guarding the space bridge.

S: That's true.

O: We're, of course, not told any of this, so I have no idea.

S: And, actually, I'm wondering about the Insecticons, too. But that's neither here or near- neither here nor there, because they are Sirs Not Appearing in this Episode.

O: Yeah, they may not even know and Decepticons maybe didn't even call them. On the receiving end of the Dinobots, poor Shockwave is shocked to get a triceratops suddenly to the face.

S: Sparkplug manages to figure out that the Dinobots are on Cybertron but Grimlock refuses to return to Earth.

O: Carly volunteers to go to Cybertron since the Dinobots aren't in any mood to help. Spike says Optimus will never agree to something so dangerous.

S: Oh, I mean, it's not like Optimus can stop them.

O: In fact, he just sort of falls on his face when he tries. 

S: Yeah. Before they head out, Sparkplug gifts Spike a really lame looking communicator that sort of sticks to his thumb like a band-aid. 

O: Well, Wheeljack isn't exactly up to par right now so, hmm. 

S: Fair. Carly drives her car through Devastator’s legs to get to the space bridge like the goddamn badass she is.

O: And the episode ends with Shockwaves shooting the space bridge door as it opens - to which, join us next time for Desertion of the Dinobots, Part Two.

S: The Dinobots have arrived on Cybertron and they're ready to paint the planet red!

O: And I believe we have some fanfic for today.

S: All right, we have two pieces of fanfiction. We have “Walking with Dinobots” by BlushLouise- BlushLouise?

O: One of those.

S: Yeah. It's in the G1 Cartoon continuity. It's rated G, it's gen, there are no pairings and the characters are the Dinobots and Optimus Prime. So, in summary, “The humans have this show. It's called Walking with Dinosaurs. Until the Dinobots take an interest, that is. Or the many ways a Dinobot can sneak away to join the circus.” And that was just really cute. It’s been a while since I read it but really cute. And so our theme on that is “Dinobots getting to go around and do stuff,” I think.

O: Getting out and about, I believe. 

S: Ah, getting out and about, thank you. And then our second fanfic recommendation is “Wayward” by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1). It's G1 Cartoon, it's rated G, it's gen, no pairings, and our characters are Wheeljack, Dinobots, and [Chip] Chase. And in summary, “As the Autobots recover from their Cybertonium depletion and readjust to working with the Dinobots (again), only one mech in particular seems to be healing poorly- not just physically but emotionally. Naturally that catches some attention.

S: And again- Dinobots.

O: And both of these are one shots.

S: Yeah, they’re both one shots and the second one I'd originally picked for the second episode but I think it also works pretty well here.

O: And our fan artist for today is Charlotte Cha [Sha]? Cha? Cha [Sha]. They seem to primarily do IDW. They probably have a bit more of- a bit more things than that but that's what I’ve primarily seen they have a ton of to Dratchet stuff. Uh, they've got a zine for their Young!Ratchet/Vet!Drift AU, and I think it's super cute. Today we've linked to that zine. 

S: Yep, I have that downloaded somewhere it's really cute. 

O: Another cuddly Dratchet fanart- of Drift and Ratchet just cuddling. It's very cute. And Tailgate being a complete and total dumbass and Cyclonus being, like, ‘Oh no, I have to protect this tiny idiot.’ It is fantastic. A lot of their stuff I've seen has been more sketchy and they do do other fan art that isn't Transformers related. We will be able to link to their Instagram. They frequently also go by the username VoyVoy or Voyahora, I think, and then their Tumblr is like PrimeADV, so I have no idea and just went with what they have listed I think on their Twitter as the real name so. But I do recommend their stuff! It's super cute and we will be posting links. 

S: Mm-hmm. And that about wraps it up for us today.  Remember to check us out on Tumblr or Pillowfort as Afterspark-Podcast for any additional information, show notes, or links we may have mentioned.  You can also find us on Facebook and Twitter at AftersparkPod (all one word) and various other locations by searching for Afterspark Podcast such as AO3, iTunes, Spotify, and Youtube, just to name a few.  And feel free to send us questions on Tumblr, Youtube, or AO3!  Till next time, I'm Specs.

O: And I’m Owls.

S: Toodles.

[Outro Music]

[whyamistillwatchingtheseshows]

Part 2 of @this-solaris-life Kisses Aren’t Threats.  “I’m surprised you want to go into a haunted house anyway,” Forth looked at his boyfriend. They were getting closer to the entrance and Beam almost thought he’d race back to the car. Then he remembered that’d be just as scary. 

“Just do not let go of me,” Beam requested of Forth. 

“That I can do.” He hooked their hands. Ming and Kit turned to make sure their friends were behind them.

“Wait!” Beam exclaimed. “We have to crawl in?” 

“It’s the only way,” a spooky host answered. 

“Fine,” Beam lowered himself behind Forth. “I’m holding your pant leg.” Forth chuckled. Once through they were inside a room with a group of people. Another host appeared. 

“Choose your path wisely.” Two lights lit up a door to the left. One to the right. The four friends chose the door on the left. Everyone else went right. 

Forth squeezed Beam’s hand first. “Spiders,” he hissed. They were pulling no punches in this Haunted House. Tarantulas were freely roaming the room...or in something like that looked like crypt? The dense fog starting up around them made it impossible to tell. Ming and Kit seemed to have no reaction at all. When they neared the exit out of this particular room, a mummy jumped from an unnoticeable coffin and Kit laughed. 

They were in another room. Screams echoed in the hallway and Beam sensed something behind him so he looked. Sure enough a character was following them. He put himself in front of Forth, wrapping his boyfriend’s arms around his waist knowing that Forth wouldn’t object to having his hands on him. They walked the rest of the way through the room, chains swayed from the ceiling. Fake body parts were attached on the ends of them. Suddenly, a bloody face hovered on Forth’s shoulder. He jumped and gripped Beam’s waist harder. When they made it through, Forth leaned down to whisper, ‘fuck you’ in his boyfriend’s ear. Beam only shrugged. Forth kept a firm hold on him. 

“So where’s the exit?” Ming asked to no one in particular. “It’s got to end at some point?” 

The hostess from the first room appeared. “The exit is right through here.” She pointed down to what looked like a doggy door. 

Kit laughed again. “That’s not ominous at all.” The four of them stood there unwilling to admit that they were afraid to go through the door. The hostess waited. 

“Give us a hint. Is that really an exit?” 

“Be a brave soul and find out.” Forth snickered. This girl was quick with the improv. Beam rolled his eyes. 

“Fuck it! I’m going.” Forth scrambled to follow him. Ming and Kit were now the caboose. They didn’t know if that made things better or worse. 

They had to crawl again. Beam remembered reading in the waiver they signed that they’d get messy. He didn’t want to know what sticky shit was on his hands. They were finally able to stand and it seemed the last thing they had to pass was [as usual] a fucking clown. 

“It’s just chocolate syrup on our hands.” Ming noted.

“And on my fucking pants!” Forth exclaimed, a little miffed. 

“I’m not worried about the chocolate,” Kit shook his head finally feeling fear. “That’s what I care about.” They couldn’t tell from their distance if the clown was real or a dummy. It stood at the end of the hall, the exit sign glowing above its head. 

The four of them looked at each other. “Should we devise a plan of action?” Forth asked them. Beam tugged on his sleeve. “Seriously, what are we going to do?” There was another tug. “What?” 

Beam pointed down the hallway. The clown disappeared. “I don't want to move,” Kit admitted. Ming’s eyes widened with surprise and he slowly reached out for his boyfriend’s hand. “Fuck! It’s behind me isn’t it.” Ming had his hand and the four of them bolted to the exit. The sound of a chainsaw echoed down the hall behind them. 

“Where the fuck he get a chainsaw? And why the fuck does this hallway feel so long?” Kit screamed as he was being dragged by Ming. Suddenly, Kit bumped into a stopped Ming. 

“It’s a wall.” 

“The fuck it is!” Kit exclaimed. Forth touched the wall, pressing at certain points, trying to find if maybe it was a pressure thing. Ming nodded in agreement as if that could be it. So he tried the other side. The chainsaw sound was getting closer. Beam kept watch. 

“If I get kidnapped by this clown first I’m killing all of you!” Beam announced. 

“Got it,” Forth found the mechanism and the door hissed open. 

“I didn’t know this was a fucking escape room!” Kit yelled back and flipped off the clown. Ming rolled his eyes and took his hand again. Forth scrambled up steps watching Beam bravely linger just a moment to close the door in the clown’s face. The four of them took deep breaths and fell into the grass. 

“How was it?” Pha’s voice sounded from above them. 

“The two of you still have a chance to go find out.” Kit stood first. The others followed. 

“I don't want to,” Yo shook his head. “I can’t.” 

“All right, all right,” Ming patted his shoulder. “How about we all go get something to eat?” 

“Chainsaws better not haunt my dreams.” Kit said through gritted teeth. A terrified look flashed over Yo’s face. Pha hooked their hands and gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

“We’re not going inside. We will, however, go get something to eat with these idiots.” 

“Oh, and one more thing!” Kit called after the two stragglers. “If you two had sex in my car I’m going to kill you!” 

They approached the car. Kit inspected it, satisfied that nothing happened. Forth elbowed him. “Why the fuck you care? Try to tell me you and Ming haven’t.” Kit glared at him. Forth cackled. 

Pha and Yo were back with them. “I don't know why you think we’d have sex in the car. We have more dignity than that.” Everyone’s head jerked so fast to look at Wayo. Sassy Yo was here tonight! Pha licked his lips feeling very proud of his boyfriend. The gang burst into laughter. Seconds later, the gang piled into the car. Once on the road, in the rearview mirror, Kit noticed exchanged glances between Pha and Yo. 

“You two did, didn’t you?! You had sex in my car?” 

“Whoa, whoa, eyes on the road!” Ming yelled. He reached out for the steering wheel. 

“Okay so um…” Yo shyly started. “I have no dignity!” He whined. 

“Great! I think I’d rather take my chances back inside the haunted house than deal with this,” Forth interjected. 

“You’ll never know what happened,” Pha finally spoke up. 

Kit white-knuckled the steering wheel the rest of the drive to the restaurant. They rode in silence, mainly because every time Ming turned the radio on, Kit insisted on keeping the radio off. He seemed to think that served as punishment to Pha an Yo. They pulled up to the restaurant. Forth and Beam fell out of the car. 

“Fuck!” Forth exclaimed. “My ears have never hurt so much.” Beam continued to keep silent by taking his boyfriend’s hand towards a table. The others followed. Yo was about to get out of the car when Pha stopped him by the elbow. A soft smile spread across Yo’s face as he let the older guy kiss him for what felt like the thousandth time that night. 

“We should join them.” Yo managed to pull away.

“Should we?” Suddenly, a bang on the window sounded. It made Yo jump. 

“Get out of my car!” Kit yelled. Pha rolled his eyes. He reluctantly leaned over and opened the door. He scooted Yo out and received a scowl from his friend. He merely shrugged and walked passed Kit with Yo in hand. Kit mocked kicking him in the ass all the way to the table.

[bountybossier]

Under the Moostletoe I Erin & Nic

You better buckin’ believe it.

With: @corpse--diem

Erin’s hands felt sweaty. Never in her life would she have imagined herself standing outside of a moose-themed restaurant, getting nervous as she waited for a guy who she had drank whiskey with over an open wolf carcass. The same man who she’d found out both ate water with cereal, and accidentally terrified a group of children in a putt putt course. What was she doing? She stuck her hands into her jacket pocket, questioning all of the choices she’d made in life that led her here. And she was early. When was the last time she’d had a date? A proper one, anyway. Like now--one where she put make-up on and actually dug out a dress from the back of her closet. Moose Caboose didn’t deserve the effort, but she wanted to try anyway. This was fine. They had alcohol. This was fine. When she spotted Nic’s familiar figure, she waved, internally screaming at herself to be cool. “I was gonna wait inside but everyone in the waiting area kept staring at me. Because, you know. They stare all the time. Always. At everything.”

Googling “how to deal with nausea” had brought fruitless results and Nicodemus wasn’t thrilled. He couldn’t just throw back TUMS like Tic-Tacs and hope it would go well. Fuck he hoped it went well. Sweat threatened to plaster his flannel shirt to his back and he considered bringing extras in case he drenched the first one. A drink would fix things. It always would. He held onto that thought like a lifeline as he pulled up to Moose Caboose and turned down his blaring radio. 7:10 wasn’t a bad time. It gave him at least ten minutes to scream internally before he combed back his hair and stepped out. Shit, she had put on a dress and he looked like Paul fucking Bunyan just returned from the county fair. All he needed was an elk over his shoulder and--He cleared his throat, cleared his thoughts, and walked up to meet her halfway. “Is it because you look nice? Because you do. Look nice, that is. Just a little different without all the blood is all.” He said the last part quieter than the first. A slim smile concealed the violent turn in his gut and he opened the door for her. “Now are we talkin’ about the taxidermy or the wait staff? There really a difference?”

The dress was too much, wasn’t it? Now Erin felt stupid, watching Nic roll up in his flannel shirt, her back to a moose-themed restaurant. And here she was in a stupid dress. Too late to go back now. Still, she couldn’t help the smile that came with his compliment, blood mention and all. “Smooth,” she raised a brow, following him in. “I can always find some, toss it around, if that’d make you more comfortable?” She cleared her throat, casting a glance his way. “You look nice too,” she added on quickly. “And you look like you definitely belong here.” Another nervous laugh. Antlers and fur and black, beady eyes welcomed them the second they entered the restaurant. She leaned in a little bit, trying to keep her voice low so the customers and staff didn’t hear her. “I told you. Everywhere,” she gestured with a nod. “I think there’s less heads in my basement than there are in this hallway.”

“That’s me, smooth as a fuckin’ baby,” Nicodemus muttered as he willed the red creeping up his neck to fuck off. It didn’t seem like it would so he would have to grin and bear it. Her mention of flinging blood about made him feel better and he wasn’t quite sure what that said about him or his state of being. “Might have some left over from the other night if we really need it, but by the looks of this place, they might already have it covered.” Was this a Chuck-E-Cheese for rednecks? Pictures didn’t do the place injustice. He didn’t want to question the compliment, but already he felt like his best hunting flannel didn’t cut it. Asking Nell hadn’t been on the table, as he feared the response like nothing else. “Yeah? Thanks, I wanted to limit my chances of being killed and stuffed. You on the other hand…” He left it at that and approached the hostess. He tried to hide his ugly snort at the basement heads. “Table for two.” The hostess beamed up at him, eyes just as dark as the goddamn bison overhead. “Oh is it a date? It’s your lucky night. The table right under the moose is available.” He immediately blanched and shot a look back at Erin. The center of the damn place sounded like hell. “Uh, we don’t need right under the moose. Is there a...beaver or somethin’ in the corner?” The hostess seemed upset by his rebuttal but gathered the menus anyway. “Oooo even better, we have two beavers. Holding hands.” Regret washed over as he watched the hostess start walking away. “Well...Fuck.”

Are people allowed to ask that? What if this was her brother? This teeny bopper would’ve felt like an idiot then. But for now, that emotion was reserved for them. Nic especially, judging by the way the color immediately drained from his face. Erin tried to hide her snickering to very little avail, eventually having to cover her mouth with her hand so it wasn’t so obvious. “That’s way better. Thank you,” she nodded earnestly. “What are you waiting for? Follow the lady,” she pressed a hand to his back, urging him to follow the hostess as they led them to their seats. There was no way she was going to let him challenge her further and have them sitting anywhere else. The younger girl seemed to have an endless supply of enthusiasm tucked away, her smile relentless as she pointed up to the beavers. “Adorable, right?” She held a menu close to her face, like she was trying to share a secret. “The moose spot is great, but I should’ve known you two lovebirds would appreciate this one more. Enjoy!” She plopped then menus down with a pep Erin rarely saw in any one person. Her eyes were stuck on the beavers though. “This is way too good to be true,” she bit her lip, laughing harder than before. “Thank you so much for picking this spot.”

It was too late. The hostess was too far gone to have them sit anywhere else than in the Beaver Damboree. Nicodemus bit his bottom lip as he looked at Erin and shook his head in disbelief. At least someone was enjoying this. At least it wasn’t too good to be true. He didn’t need to be pinched. He was sure one of the taxidermied crabs with their shiny claws would do that for him. He had made his moose-covered bed and he was going to have to lie in it. His feet felt heavier as he walked behind the bubbly young hostess, but Erin’s hand against his back brought him to life once more. Both of the beavers looked him directly in the eye and it felt like God was laughing at him. And sweet Jesus, they were actually holding hands. “Yup. It’s perfect. Hey, just in case, you actually got any lovebirds here that we can just put nearby or something? Really, uh...” He brought his fingertips to almost touching. “Really bring it together? That’d be great, uh, Josie.” The girl beamed at him and he gave her a tight smile back. Might as well sink in all the way. Nicodemus’s customer service smile slipped away as she sat down and almost instantly, his fingers went to his temples. “Oh, it’s all part of the plan, y’know. Josie and I are familiar,” he said with a dry laugh as he picked his head up again. She had a nice laugh, he thought. He picked up the drink menu immediately. “What are you thinkin’? Looks like there’s a...Beaver Damned Good Margarita or a, uh, Moscow Moose-le.”

This felt more foreign to Erin than almost anything she’d done in her life. Sitting here, watching as Josie, the all too keen to please hostess, redecorated their general surroundings to be as disgustingly love-y as possible. “I should’ve known you had this planned all along,” she felt her cheeks burning and she took a long sip of water. He seemed to be gradually getting into it though, even if it looked like it pained him every step of the way. If she didn’t laugh, she’d be hurting right there with him. “Since you two seemed to love Mr. and Mrs. Chuck…” Erin perked up, slightly startled at the sudden reappearance of Josie beside her. The love birds, as promised, were set in the center of the table. Beaks facing each other, only just touching, as if they were kissing. Erin’s stomach felt like it had dropped to the floor. “Wow, Josie, thank you,” her words came out curtly and without thought. She looked at Nic, amused and slightly terrified all at once. “Can we get some drinks. The, uh, Moscow Moose—Moosels—you know what I’m trying to say. Like, as soon as possible. Please.” She smiled curtly up at the young girl, who promised to let their server know, before skipping off to help the customers that just walked through the door. Erin picked up a menu, but her eyes kept staring at the forcibly posed birds in the middle of the table. “I hope you know both of those drinks are for me,” she smirked, shaking her head, letting out a long sigh. This was going to be an interesting night.

“Yeah, let me tell you, it’s been real fuckin’ hard keepin’ up the mystery,” Nicodemus said with a snort. To cool himself off, he chugged his entire glass of water as Josie reappeared, her spirit called upon by the act of decorating. He hadn’t even heard her approach. The thought that she might not be human occurred to him. Was anyone here human? Short, violent coughs caught him off guard as she set the birds on the table. Of course the beavers were married and the lovebirds existed. They really did have everything stuffed and on display here. If, over the course of the night, he died, would they stuff him and pose him in a corner? At the rate the night was going, it wouldn’t be long until he found out. “Holy shit,” he said, unable to help himself as he stared at the birds. “That’s just, uh, perfect.” Josie was gone after Erin ordered her Moscow Moose-les and Nic tilted his head to the side at the woman’s comment, a smirk lifting the corner of his lips. “I had a feelin’, which is why I’m going to go with…” His eyes scanned the menu again until he landed on it. The one drink on the menu that lauded only two would be allowed due to its alcohol content. “Moose Cannon. Sure, sounds like me.” Their server, a dry-eyed young man named Martin wearing costume moose antlers, appeared. “Welcome to Moose Caboose, where the fun is loose and you’re guaranteed to leave the place stuffed!” The man’s voice cracked somewhere in there and Nicodemus gave Erin a funny look. “Uh, she ordered two of the--I’m not gonna say it. The Moscows. Gonna do me a Moose Cannon. There anything you recommend off the menu, boss?” Martin laughed startlingly loud and Nic’s sensitive ears caused him to flinch. “I’m not the boss. Not here, not ever! And everything is delicious here at Moose Caboose! I’ll go get those drinks.” He damn-near hovered away and left them alone. Nicodemus scanned Erin’s face. “I think we’re gonna die here.”

Erin found Moose Cannon on the menu, nodding in her appreciation in his choice. A normal person would’ve gotten tipsy from that one alone, but she had a feeling Nic could handle it. “Excellent choice. It’s starting to look like you and I have the same idea, here,” she smirked over the menu. Martin the server was startling in his own right, but not in the same way that Josie had been. His enthusiasm was almost robotic, and his eyes were dark--yet somehow, unmistakably cheery. A chill crept up her spine as he slithered away, finding Nic’s eyes as her’s widened in a sort of amused terror. “I think you’re right. I think he already did,” she held back another laugh, trying to take all this in. So far, she had to say--better than most of the awkward, stuffy dates she’d ever had in her lifetime. Her eyes moved to above Nic’s head to the wall littered with more taxidermied animals. “Dibs on those antlers if we need to fight our way out of here.” Erin hardly had a chance to look over the menu before the drinks arrived in record time. This place was, if anything, efficient. “So!” His voice rang out loudly again, causing her to flinch and nearly drop her menu. “Jesus--” she mumbled, reaching for one of her Moscow Moose-le. “Have we decided yet?” He chirped, glancing between the two. She hadn’t even looked properly, and simply pointed at whatever her eyes locked onto first. “I’ll have the, uh, Steak and Moose-d Potatoes,” she said slowly, raising a brow. They liked their puns here. Erin lifted her drink to her lips, tilting her head as she smirked at Nic. “What’ll you have, deer?”

“Hope those beavers are as sturdy as they look in that case...” It didn’t feel forced when he grinned that time. “Y’know, I thought the whole lizard people thing was bullshit and then we got here. Startin’ to buy into it.” When Martin reappeared with a sudden squawk, he lamented not bringing his gun inside. Then again, it might have been better that he didn’t. As soon as the Moose Cannon hit the table, Nicodemus had his hands on it. Straw an afterthought. Martin watched him with beady lizard eyes that didn’t seem to ever blink as the hunter took a hefty drink. It was sweet, way too sweet, but most booze-loaded drinks were. The food menu was as much of a moose-laden mess as the drink menu was and he felt hopelessly lost. Was any of this fucking food? Were they about to get display food on plates, surrounded by Martin and Josie as they were forced to eat it? What’ll you have, deer? His eyes narrowed at Erin as he took another long, dragged out drink of the Moose Cannon. At some point, Martin’s eyes drifted to stare a hole into the center of the table. Looked like someone had turned his settings to standby. Nicodemus thankfully didn’t choke, but he could feel the blush running up his neck like wildfire. “Fuck it, I’ll do the Bisontennial Burger with fries.” Thank fuck the fries had a normal name or he was going to lose it. He all but shoved the menus into Martin’s waiting hands. Before the server left, he got his attention. “Martin, you good?” Martin flashed all his teeth with a wide smile and Nic immediately tried to find anything uncomfortably pointy. “Never buckin’ better, mister. Besides, this is Moose Caboose where the fun is fast and loose! I’ll put that right in or so help me. So help us!” No point in asking him to blink twice as he slid away, walking the exact same path he had before. Nic glanced back to Erin and perched his chin on the back of his propped-up hand. “So, deer,” he started, voice as dry as Martin’s eyes. “Odds on us being gooble-gobbled and made one of ‘em?”

The silent tension that filled their surrounding areas as Martin waited for Nic’s order was as suffocating as it was awkward. Erin could only lift her drink to her lips too, impressed at the way he was chugging that drink. She nearly choked on hers when he asked if he was ‘good’. She swore that he said that same catchphrase with the exact same inflections he had just a few minutes ago. Something was not right about this place but the mixture of nerves and general absurdity was making it hard for her to truly focus on whether or not these people were animatronics or not. Finally, after a flurry of customer service, they found themselves alone. Well, lovebirds and beavers excluded. “I’m hoping they just kill us and not set us up to spend an eternity slinging moose-puns, honestly,” she smirked, glancing up from the table. Josie’s eyes were focused hard on them with a smile that took up her entire face. Erin turned her chair slightly, trying to keep her back to those beady, dead eyes. “At this rate, we might as well just invite them all to eat with us.” They were alone now, and that fact seemed to resonate hard now that they didn’t have wait staff moving adjacent to them at every turn. Erin cleared her throat, almost halfway through her first mule already. “So, uh. How’s that Moose Cannon?” she smirked, resting her elbow on the table, watching him with a knowing smirk. “Lot of alcohol in that one. Think your colon can handle it?”

“Well now that the thought is out there, I’m callin’ Country Roads as my song,” Nicodemus said with a quirk of his brow and a dip of his head, his large glass raised in mock cheers. He elected to ignore the fact that it felt like a dozen flies worth of eyes were on them. They already have the beavers and the lovebirds, how much worse could it really get? “It ain’t bad,” he said as he eyed the fact that he had less than a quarter of it left. Wouldn’t do to let it get watered down by the...moose-shaped ice cubes in it. For fucks sake. He both did and didn’t like how she was smirking at him. “Pretty solid amount of alcohol in it, I’d say.” He squinted and finished the rest of it, just as it did get worse. There it was. The cursed colon. “Damn it, you saw that?” The instinctual need to make a fist in frustration started to backfire and he glanced down in time to see the thick drink class start to crack. It was one of the thicker glasses, the kind that could damn near weather a bomb, but there it was, cracking and then, suddenly, shattering. It was too thick to shatter into a million pieces, a fact he was thankful for. Little to no response was given when red blood started to dye the spilled moose cubes. “Jesus, got a grip like a bull rider...” He said quickly as he stood up and damn near concussed himself on Mr. and Mrs. Chuck as he did so. It really wasn’t that bad, just a surface nick or two.  All of the pieces stayed on his side and he looked apologetically at Erin. In record time, Martin was back. “Oh wow, you’re bleeding like a stuffed pig,” he said, a bit more enthusiastically than Nicodemus was comfortable with. “Please don’t sue us or this--” Martin gestured at himself. “--little piggy might not make it home from the market, mister.” Nicodemus stared down at him and made sure to note the quick, lizard-like movement of his tongue. He didn’t say anything to him and glanced back at Erin. “Just gonna go to the restroom real quick to, uh, deal with this. Martin, get me two more of those, will you?” He looked for the sign with the moose ass on it and stalked toward it.

Erin didn’t expect Nic to take the colon comment in grace, and she’d hoped that all of the alcohol he’d just shoved down his gullet would brace some of the impact. But then the glass shattered in his hands with a pop that rang through the restaurant. Not shattered--popped. The thing was damn near indestructible, but he’d done it, and he was bleeding all over the moose print patterned tablecloth. “Jesus, are you okay?” She asked, standing when he did. Martin’s shrill voice startled her, again, and this time it was incredibly less amusing. There wasn’t a thing that he said that made any kind of sense to her, and her eyes glazed over as he started to clean up the broken glass. “Your dinners should be out shortly, and by moose, do they smell delicious already!” Was all he said as he swept up the pieces from the table and carried on. Too much prolonged eye contact forced her to glance down at her drink again, finishing off the first. When she eventually saw Nic start towards their table, the first empty glass had already slipped into her purse. “You alright?” she asked, glancing down at his hand. Lowered her voice, tugging him a little closer before he could sit back down. “Also… do you want to get out of here? Because I really, really do.”

Nicodemus felt like a fucking idiot. Why was bleeding in the bathroom the most comforting experience he’d had all night? Away from everyone’s eyes on him, he was free to scowl and swear as he ran his hand under ice-cold water. He didn’t have anything to bandage himself with and if Martin so much as put a hand on him, he’d snap his neck in the Moose Caboose parking lot. Instead, he shrugged off his flannel shirt and cut a strip of the green material to loop around his thumb to cover his cut palm. Back in just a plain black shirt, he returned to Erin with a sheepish frown and nodded. She pulled him close and sadly, instinctively, he almost reared back. But he didn’t and instead looked at her. Whatever perfume she was wearing, it mixed with the blood. “Huh? Yeah, yeah, guess my hand just slipped or some shit.” Not that he had shattered a tank of a glass into oblivion with just a flex of his hand. His stomach dropped. And it felt like his chest hurt? What did that mean? He didn’t know. Fuck, he’d shit the bed. He’d shit the entire bed and then another one. “That bad, huh?” He laughed to keep his throat from closing, his smile tight but shaking in a way that he hated. What the hell was happening to his body? When had he become an anxious wreck? Suck it up, Buttercup. “Yeah, I get it. I figured. Uh--Martin.” The server stopped, two Moose Cannon’s in hand, before the hunter pulled him away, behind the bar and into the back of the restaurant. When they returned, Nic held a small bucket with a saran wrap top and two straws taped together sticking out of it. Barely out of sight in the pocket of Martin’s plaid shirt was four twenties. Nicodemus was surprised to see Erin still there. He thought she wanted to go, forget the whole thing. “I’ll walk you out. We’re goin’ the same way.” Of course they were. There was only one way to leave Moose Caboose. Or two, really.

Erin’s eyes narrowed briefly at his response and the way that his voice seemed to completely lose all of the energy it had before. Was he okay? Did he not agree that this was the most horrifying place they’d ever been to in this town? “Unless you want to--” she started to say, but he was already disappearing with Martin. Part of her wondered if he was actually going to come back. More eyes than she could count were staring at her as she sat in silence, finishing up her other drink. Her cheeks grew warmer the longer she waited, like they all knew she was about to be stood up. Bolted up once she finally saw him come back with a fun new cup in his hands. “Two straws? That’s very, uh, Lady and the Tramp of you.” She smirked, watching Martin glide to another table nearby, giving the exact same spiel he’d given them. She swore he was still managing to watch them out of the corner of his eye. Nic, though, the poor guy looked like someone had broken his--oh. Oh, no. “Let’s go to my place,” she chirped out quickly, realizing the unintentional damage she’d done. “For drinks,” she added on. “I want to drink with you. If that’s okay?” She bit her lip, glanced around them, trying to think of how to add the gusto back in, and quick. Grabbing her drink, she finished off the second one, then let it clank into her purse with the other. “Only if you bring the lovebirds,” she glanced back at the table, grinned at him, then made a dash for the exit.

“Compromise I made with ol’ Martin,” Nicodemus grunted as he looked over at the man, who looked about ready to shed his top layer of skin and become a higher being. Under the hunter’s gaze, Martin flinched and went back to his current table of targets. He blinked at Erin, his face morphing through what felt like five emotions. It was a bizarre occurrence if he even went through one. And then an honest to God, broad as the horizon smile appeared. One that his whole body went into. He took a long sip of the quadrupled Moose Cannon. “Yeah, sure. Yeah, we can do that.” He nodded slowly. A conspiratorial look slid onto his face at the sound of two glasses clinking in her purse. A look not unlike the stuffed fox just three tables down. She was gone before he could say anything. Booming laughter threatened to erupt and at the mention of the lovebirds, he immediately snatched one and put it under his shirt. The second one followed after, a lump under his tight shirt that didn’t look at all suspicious forming. He raised his bucket glass to Josie and Martin as he followed quickly behind.

[theprotectmeconeparadox]

RvB Season 17:Ep12 "Theogeny"

Okay wtf is going on with these titles

"A.S.S."

"I heard you needed to beat another guy off and I came right away" DONUT I COULD KISS YOU

"You were about to kill yourself?" "I was?"

"woah, dying? Where's Kai?" GO GET HER GRIF SAVE YOUR SISTER THEN SAVE SIMMONS

"Allow O'Malley out" No, no no no that is a BAD idea!

"you're my alter ego!" FUCK YOU!

"Now let's fucking do this!!!" NICE!!!!

"Grif. Lopez. Simmons. Kai. Tucker. Carolina." Um, where the fuck was Sarge, Donut, Doc, and Caboose in all that?

"O'Malley?"

"Oh, he wishes."

SHIT!

That was hot

Wait, am I turning into Kai?

My mouth dropped seeing the hut on fire

"Uh, Kai? Why is the labyrinth showing our burnt up family home?" Shit

"Kai, look at me."

Oh my God I love the Grif siblings

"Look we can talk about this any time you want."

I'm gonna cry

"Uh... Counter landed.... Soldier"

"Okay, listen. This is inside Simmons' head" THE GRIFS WENT AFTER SIMMONS "my illusion was super private, same as yours. So whatever we see here has to say secret" either Grif is really caring for his bf cause he knows he's sensitive or he doesn't want Kai to figure they're fucking so he's making her promise not to tell everyone ahead of time but we already know Grif. We already know.

Ok. Nvm. That's too funny.

"Take this seriously" her mocking voice is making it better

HE'S RECORDING IT GRIF SEND THAT TO ME XD XD XD

"Cause only Tucker can turn it on" those two secretly fucked when Tucker was closeted headcannon accepted

"everyone was gone! I had a panic attack and passed out! Are they okay?"

"still got my penis!"

"what?" ME TOO WASH

"you guys were like haunting me! Telling me you're dead and to throw myself into a black hole"

"now jump off that edge buddy it's our only way home."

Grif!

"too soon?" "It's still happening!"

"Okay. Caboose and Carolina are still captive." OH FUCK! "Or dead" FUCK

"time to fight whatever... Carolina is afraid of" BUT EVERYONE IS TERRIFIED BECAUSE WHAT CAN POSSIBLY SCARE CAROLINA

"or she may die" "fine!" Aw I knew you cared

"whatcha gonna do now? Get a desk job? Pop out a baby?" ... That's low

"And what? I'm meant to feel ashamed when I look at you? Well, you're damn right I do."

"snap!" ME TOO KAI ILL SAY IT ONCE AND TWICE AND ILL SAY IT OK BITCH ME TOO DA FUQ

"Leave her to me." "Not a problem!"

THAT'S MY GIRL!

Oh shit! The observation room at Freelancer!

Baby NO!

"you can't win"

"I don't need to. I found something stronger than strength. More satisfying than solitude and obsession. I found people worth being strong for. And right now, any one of them could pop you with a finger twitch!"

YEAH TUCKER GIVE HER SOME LIGHT

Look at my babies backing her up

LOOK AT TUCKINGTON IN THE SAME SHOT AT HER CAUSE THEY'RE HER NUMBER ONE FANS

"say the word"

Nice catch, Doc!

"HOW DO YOU DO IT?!"

"mmm friendship?" THATS RIGHT CABOOSE WAY TO GO BABY

"you might have gotten Lopez" fuck now I feel guilty for laughing at him

Lopez is alive!

Oh wait

OH FUCK

"Donut, what just happened?"

"And good job you can read minds.

"Krovos had to come from somewhere"

OH SHIT

"only one paradox left to go" NO NO NO NO NO YOU GUYS KEEP GOING BACK THERE STOP PLAYING WITH ME THIS ISNT FUCKING FAIR DAVID

"Hey guys. I don't want to be alone. Can you all be there with me?"

Carolina: You got it

Donut: We got you

Grif: 100%

Doc: We'll be there

Sarge: For you? Absolutely

Tucker: Of course

Simmons: I'll bring the band aids

Sister: For sure

Caboose: As long as it's not Tuesday between 1 and 12

Carolina: I'll be there so hard, there'll be two of me

Wash: Thanks

No no no no no no

Wait, is THAT THE FUCKING BLOOD GULCH THEME SONG IN THE FUCKING BACKGROUND

No

Wait wtf? "Alien pregnancy and you" Tucker wtf did you do that?

Carolina and Tucker share a look while concerned about Wash. 100% Tuckington is real and Carolina runs that ship

"Wash. Was shot."

"This is how I show love!"

"I'll sure miss knowing what's going on" caboose...

"bow chicka bow wow"

"and somewhere in all of that: Lopez" THANK GOD THEY REMEMBERED

"You know it's a real shame I don't speak Spanish?"

HE ADMITS IT

So... What's the deal guys is RvB over? Cause that felt like an ending for good and I didn't like it

[clocks-are-round]

Gone - a Tucker fic

Content Warnings: contains semi-graphic(?) descriptions about injured dead bodies, and may make you sad?? possibly? idk

oh, and very descriptive anxiety attacks

Just a heads up, this is a little over 7000 words.

It can also be read on my ao3

———

“You must prove yourself worthy,” the purple holographic Sengheli decreed.

“This shit again?” Tucker tilted his head in annoyance. “Talk to Santa, he can vouch for me.” This better not take all day. He and Junior had a very important video call tonight, and he’d really rather not postpone a third time.

“We need the spare parts to repair a temple back on Chorus. Surely that’s a worthy enough cause,” Carolina said, fingers twitching. She was ready if they had to fight. She really took after her milf of a mom in that way.

“Yeah, we just need this temple’s junk drawer,” Grif said. “What, we’re not worthy enough for the junk drawer?”

“Your heart is too heavy to proceed,” the AI stated, staring at Tucker.

“What? I feel fine.” He felt arms wrap around him and lift him effortlessly off the ground.

“Caboose, put me down!” He kicked his dangling legs through the air, hoping the extra resistance would convince Caboose to let go sooner rather than later.

“Yeah, I don’t really know what Purple Santa is talking about. Tucker is not very heavy. He’s pretty small. His heart is probably just the normal amount of heavy.” He set Tucker back down, to his ego’s relief.

Kai wasn’t present, so the only one shorter than him was Sarge-- who looked as amused as everybody else. Jackass.

Tucker wasn’t even that short, everybody else was just fucking tall.

“C’mon, just turn on the temple for us,” Tucker insisted.

The AI paused, as if considering.

“Wielder of the key. Intentions aside, to have access to the inner temple, you must pass a test.”

“I hope it isn’t History. We didn’t study for that one.” Caboose whispered loudly, “Tucker, the answer to the first question is your name. That’s-- It’s kind of a trick question.”

“You must relive your weighted memories and set yourself free of them,” the AI continued. “Do you agree to this?”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever I need to do. Won’t be the first time,” he said, remembering the time traveling. He hoped he wouldn’t see Felix again. Douche.

The AI pulsed and the sword felt hot through his glove. Like it was glued to his fingers, he couldn’t let go. His ears rang as he staggered to the floor. Did he cry out or was it just in his head? Landing on his knees, he heard voices around him, muffled then silent. The hard floor fell away from his fingertips.

The TV went dark. The movie was over, so Mama had turned it off. Still, Tucker wasn’t ready to get up. He was comfy and warm, and his eyes were threatening to close. But he wasn’t sleepy yet, because he didn’t want to get ready for bed. Mama was staying put too. He wished they could do this more. He wanted every day to be this special.

Tucker hugged his mama’s side, head rested against her. He could hear her heartbeat. “I don’t like it when you’re gone, Mama. Can’t you just stay here more?”

She sucked in air through her teeth, and he felt her chest lower as she exhaled. “I’m sorry you feel that way, kid, but going out with friends is what makes me happy.”

“It makes me not happy.”

“Well, that’s a you problem.”

Tucker blinked heavy eyelids. Didn’t this already happen? The deja vu was for real.

A squeal of excitement interrupted his thoughts. His mama was happy dancing, her braids bouncing around her.

“Guess who just got pro-mo-ted!” Mama grinned at Tucker, who was interlocking legos on the living room floor. It was gonna be an awesome fighter jet when he finished.

“You?”

“Yeah, me! I gotta tell Sal about this. Told you so, bee-otch!”

She dialed and held the phone to her ear, her smile slowly melting into annoyance.

“Bitch, pick the fuck up.”

His mama tapped her foot, then started pacing.

Tucker watched her cross the room three times before they made eye contact. She stopped abruptly, then pulled a chair over from the kitchen table, and sat on it backwards, facing him.

“Okay, so I’ve been pretty cozy with the owner, right? Just short of being a suck-up. Laughed at his jokes, smiled at him a bunch, nickname basis.”

Tucker set down the colorful blocks and did his best to look interested. He could play with toys anytime. Mama was talking to him. It wasn’t even a holiday, he didn’t think.

“Well, he was trying to decide whether to move or not a while ago. I basically just encouraged him to follow his dreams, because otherwise you just KNOW he’d be bitching about what could’ve been. He said he wasn’t sure how he could leave the business, since he doesn’t have any family around to pass it on to—“ She took a breath, her smile a mile wide, “So I was like yeah, I don’t know if Clare, Penny, or Steve could really handle running this place. I’d give it a shot though. I just fucking went for it and now I am LITERALLY the boss!” She squealed in delight, dancing in place. Her face was aglow. “I can quit my other job with this.”

Tucker perked up. “Does that mean you’ll be home more?”

“No, it means I don’t have to commute so far since it’s the closer one to home. More me time, ba-BY! Plus, I’m my own boss. I can drink or smoke on the fucking job because it won’t be Dan’s rules anymore! Like, I’ll go easy on that, still got a job to do, but still! Might be a little bit of a pain to figure it all out, but Dan’s gonna show me the ropes before he moves away. So TECHNICALLY, I’m not the boss yet. We’ve got a couple months. I just gotta not do anything to fuck it up!”

Her excitement was infectious, even if nothing was really going to be different for him. He was gonna “go for it” too. “Can we do something to celebrate? Together?”

She considered. “You’re a little young for the bar or the club, kid.”

“We could go roller skating. It’s really fun,” he insisted. He hadn’t actually skated before, but he saw it on TV.

She hemmed. “You know what? That does sound like a good time. I haven’t been in ages. Sal missed their chance. I’m not waiting to celebrate. We’ll get pizza there too, how does that sound?”

He forgot about this. How could he forget? Memories like this one were so rare.

“Hell yeah!”

She swung her legs off the chair and walked over, crouching in front of him. “Watch your language, Lavernius. You wanna get the school board on my case?”

She tickled him and his legs kicked, squirming away. He was too old for tickling, but he couldn’t really be mad. He liked the attention. Still, he batted at the offending fingers. “Mama!” He protested.

She laughed. “Go get your shoes on. I’m gonna change and then we’re going skating!”

He beamed and scrambled to his feet.

Tucker was fucking pissed.

He shut the fridge door so hard he heard everything inside shake. Some condiment tumbled out of the door shelf.

“Should I just start calling you Julie? ‘Cause most moms make it to at least one recital in their kid’s life.” Just one. That’s all he asked of her. Just one school event.

“I don’t care what you call me.”

“Mama, that’s not the point!” It was all spilling out now. She hated whining? Deal with it, bitch. “You’re only ever home to sleep. What family has the kid doing all the cooking and cleaning themself? None of my friends.” This was already their longest conversation in weeks. That just made Tucker’s blood boil more. “I’m your fucking kid, doesn’t that mean anything? Do fucking mom stuff once in a while.”

She stared back, annoyed. “Half your life, when I wasn’t working, I was taking care of you. I did my time. You’re a teenager now, why would you need me taking care of you? I managed just fine.”

Tucker crossed his arms. “Yeah, managed to get yourself knocked up before you even graduated.”

“Oh shut up, asshole. If you’re lonely, make some more friends or get a girlfriend or some shit. Don’t make it my problem.” Her keys jingled, dropping into her purse. “I’m going out. There’s money on the table for pizza. Save me a slice.” She slammed the door.

Tucker clutched— something— he couldn’t see.

He was going to be sick.

His head spun and ached

His eyes burned.

Why was this happening?

What was happening?

This  all  already  happened.

A     d  r  e  a  m    ?

It was raining outside. Not a storm yet, just a sprinkle. He saw through the window, above his new sneakers he bought last week. They’d get splashed with paint at school and he’d come home without them because he couldn’t stand to look at them, but not yet. Nothing was ruined yet.

No no no. No, don’t fucking happen. Just skip past this, please.

“Don’t eat all the pie. I want some when I get back.” He heard her voice behind him.

He couldn’t turn.

“Yeah, okay. See ya,” he responded, he turned away from the door, back to his homework. What? Not even a glance at her? The midterm was tomorrow. Stupid that they had an assignment due too. Most classes gave at least a day of no assignments to study. Look up, before she leaves. Math sucked ass. He hated it, like most people, but this was his last year. Then he would finally be done with graphs and cosines and crap. That didn’t matter right now. He wasn’t sure what he’d do after graduating, but he’d have more options with his diploma. High school diploma was enough for a lot of places. What with so many people fighting in the Great War. Goodbye waiting on tables. Even if he did stick with that, a full-time job would be better than the hell that was high school. Say something, at least look at her one last time. Hell, maybe he’d go to college. Find some academic cuties with deep pockets. Oh shut the hell up. Things would start looking up soon enough. Yeah, look up. She’s right there.

The door closed with a thump and a click.

That was it. It wasn’t a special day. A couple sentences exchanged, more than most days, but it wasn’t too out of the ordinary.

A normal day where his mama would go out and come back late at night.

Not this time.

He didn’t know the first time, but he knew now. His chest ached. He knew. He knew that was it.

He couldn’t grab his phone and call her. He couldn’t run out the door and stop her. He just knew.

His eyes scanned the photos idly. Most were of his mama with various friends. He assumed. He only really knew a handful by name, and fewer by face.

There was one of her with him. Well, he assumed it was him, unless he had some secret sibling he didn’t know about. Mama didn’t really take pictures. Maybe Sal brought it in. Sal was alright. They played with him sometimes when he was little. They were one of Mama’s only friends who’d been to their house.

“I’ll be honest, I totally forgot she had a kid. If Darren didn’t remind me, I would’ve forgot to invite him!”

“Oh nooo! That would suck so much.” Laughter.

“Guys, this is a funeral. Little respect?”

“You think Julie would’ve wanted us to be all mopey? This is still probably too formal for her.”

Tucker didn’t recognize many faces. His mom kept her home life (or lack thereof) separate from her work and social life. Maybe it was a form of kindness from her, not surrounding him with the night life at home, but it was still lonely.

Sal was the MC. They said some things. Tucker wasn’t really listening. He broke out of his haze when someone nudged him. “Your turn to say a few words, if you want.”

Tucker stood and walked to the front. The sea of strangers watched him, expectantly. He hadn’t prepared anything. Not really.

“My mama always said you couldn’t turn back the clock, so you should make every day one you won’t regret. Guess she wasn’t thinking when she decided to walk home in the rain.”

He couldn’t just end it there, but his mind was a blank.

Words found their way to his mouth, despite his brain freeze. “Anyways, she’d want you guys to have a good time. Don’t be shy, help yourself to stuff. There’s drinks, snacks. Just, get a ride if you’re not sober. I don’t wanna have to say ‘Same time next week?’.” Some laughter.

He didn’t recall taking the microphone from Sal, but he was holding it, so he handed it off to them and returned to his seat.

Did she always say that? Or was it just once or twice? Guess it didn’t matter. She said it at some point.

People are supposed to cry at these things, right? His eyes were dry. He just felt heavy, and kind of annoyed. He half-expected her to walk in, “Hey, back from my trip! What’s with the gloom? Let’s hit the bar. See you tonight, kid!”

He stared at the door, but she didn’t come. She wasn’t coming back this time.

He blinked and squinted from the bright light through his helmet.

“Alright, soldiers, listen up. You’re all space marines now. No crying about missing your mommies. Got that?”

“Yes sir.” Tucker responded with the others.

After the drills, Tucker was pulled aside.

The CO said under his breath, “I read your file. Impersonating a medical officer to feel up women, huh?”

In his defense, that was part of the job description. He just happened to not be qualified for the job. And, like, he apologized and crap.

He had wanted a change of scenery after that stupid highschooler got him into trouble. And for another reason. Liar said she was eighteen, next thing he knew he was hot goss in the local media, called a “groomer” and shit. The charges got dropped, but it made him realize if he got some positive media attention-- like, say, became a war hero-- the ladies would be all over him! Of age ladies. He was gonna have to start asking for IDs after that shitshow. Didn’t that kid bitch know lying was nothing but trouble?

Anyways, just a couple white lies on his resume, and he got the cushy low-death-risk job of physician. He’d much rather diagnose ladies with F-I-N-E than, well, do the drills and crap that he was stuck doing now. Not his fault one of the chicks got suspicious about his credentials.

He checked to make sure she had a heartbeat-- but whoops the stethoscope wasn’t working, I’ll have to improvise; may I? Checked for breast cancer, yep those are boobs. Holy shit, what the fuck was wrong with him? He did the boring stuff too! Shone the light into her eyes, used the tongue stick to make sure the dangly thing looked normal, tapped her knee with the tiny hammer while keeping himself far from kicking range. He did his job, and he did a great job. Damn, he used to be either really stupid or really cocky. And everything he did was consensual, so was it really that big of a deal that he didn’t have some piece of paper from some doctor college? Oh, right. He was both.

He did all the doctor shit he did every time, and she still somehow sniffed him out. None of the others seemed to have any problems with Dr Cloitus and his PHD in military physicianry. Fucking snitch.

He wished he could physically cringe right now.

He didn’t dare say any of this to the CO, though. This guy was a hardass who could and would riddle you with bullets if you tried to talk back. Some of these military dudes were fucking nuts.

“You’re just lucky scum like you are more useful shooting on the battlefield than dead.” He gripped his shoulder tight. “‘Course, dead is still gonna happen, there’s just no use doing the reds’ job for ‘em. Better you than a good man.”

Tucker swallowed. He felt the same dread he did then. But, he wouldn’t be around this CO much longer. Command would call him in for an interview soon, and he’d get stationed in Blood Gulch.

Captain Flowers was way more chill than his last CO. He was nice and had some pretty cool armor.

“I’d like you to meet your comrade-- Private Church,” the captain said.

“‘Sup! Are you a chick?”

“No.”

“Bummer.” Tucker turned away. They’d probably never get a chick on their team because of his file.

“Yeah, I don’t like you.”

“Come on now, fellas, we’re a team!”

Well, he wouldn’t give up hope. Maybe if he pestered Command about it enough they’d give in. Add some diversity to the workplace. Hey, that was good! He’d have to include that in the letters.

The captain’s upbeat attitude was contagious. The little time they had together blurred into a string of events; hours or even days apart were now one after another.

“Tell you what,” Captain said, “If we ever go out on a scouting mission like this again, I’ll let you do the honors.”

“Awesome!” He was psyched to use the sniper rifle next time. He wouldn’t get to.

Weirdly enough, the gulch was starting to feel like a home. Like he could even enjoy being here. That wouldn’t last much longer.

“‘Sir’? Tucker, I told you to call me Captain, or Cappy… I don’t want silly things like rank interfering with our team dynamic.”

“You got it, Cappy.” Yup, that felt weird. Cappy was so friendly it bordered uncomfortable sometimes. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. It was still so alien to him.

“I think I’m commanding the finest army in all of Blood Gulch.” He was a little condescending and sappy, but it was better than getting threatened to be gutted or riddled with bullets.

“Isn’t there only one other army?” Tucker said. “Those red guys?”

“Yeah.” Church always sounded miserable for no reason. Well, he had been through a lot, apparently. “You know, the enemy?”

Flowers crossed his arms. “I’ll tell you who your enemy is, gentlemen. Apathy. Passivity. Indifference.” He shifted. “And, yeah, also those red guys.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about our orders from Command. Uh…” Church hesitated, “Cappy. And I gotta tell you, I don't think three guys is enough to stage such an elaborate offensive.”

“I think we should listen to this guy, Captain.” Tucker was still sore about when Church cussed him out earlier for no good reason. All he said was that Church’s big temper was probably compensating for something, and Church cursed his whole family line. Tucker didn’t even know his grandma, but he was offended on her behalf. “He seems to know plenty about being offensive.”

“Can it, shitbird.”

“See?”

“Men, your delightful tomfoolery puts a spring in my step and a bounce in my britches. If I weren't your commanding officer I'd pick you both up, give you a giant bear hug and make you call me Daddy.”

“Uhm…” Church was obviously uncomfortable. “Thank god for the chain of command?”

It didn’t seem like Flowers meant it in the sexual way. Did he view them like his kids? What did that even mean?

If Mama was still around, what would that be like? He assumed they’d go their separate ways, but what if they didn’t? What if they grew closer, since he wouldn't be dependent a burden on her anymore. He could visit and they could just… hang out. Is that what Cappy wanted? To hang out?

If they were stuck in Blood Gulch a long time, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. Church was an asshole and a grump, but Cappy really made them feel like a family. Like the ones on tv, or the ones his friends had.

Honestly, didn’t really matter what Cappy meant. He’d be dead pretty soon anyways. Heart attack. Guess that’s what he got for getting too comfy with the idea. He’d get the armor though, so… silver lining. It’s not like he was using it.

“What, you gonna go cry to your mommy about it? Fucking dick.”

“Nah, my mama’s dead.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Church backed off for once. For once, Tucker wished he wouldn’t. He didn’t want his pity.

“It’s no big deal. I mean, everyone’s parents die eventually. If you wanna hear me talk about women I’ve got some way better stories than that crap.”

“How long ago?” Church asked.

“Two years.” Tucker’s voice caught. Dammit. Don’t think about it. Change the subject.

“Two years… So, right before you enlisted?” Church shifted his weight. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Hey, you don’t hear me bugging you or the rookie about your family life. But if you want, I’ll talk about your mom and what a good time I gave her.” Don’t do that. Don’t push him. You’re gonna wish you spent more time with him once he’s gone.

That did it. Church huffed. “Fine. Be an asshole. I don’t give a shit about your dead mom anyways.”

First ghosts, then giving birth to an alien, now zombies. Nothing could phase Tucker now, he was sure of it. Or at least he’d pretend.

“Hello, fellas. How's everything going out here?” Cappy seemed unfazed by the bullets flying everywhere.

“Not good. Hey, you don't sound evil anymore.” The whole Cappy-isn’t-dead thing was pretty surreal, but hey, happened with Church.

“Thanks for noticing, Private.” Cappy’s right side slumped for a moment before he pulled his posture straight again. “Yeah, being possessed by an evil force can be difficult at times, but with a little hard work, and positive thinking, you can overcome anything.” He should take a shower to overcome that stank. Smelled like roadkill. From a sewer.

Tucker wasn’t sure what state Cappy’s armor was in, but his own should be filtering anything like that out. Did he not know how to manually set it to auxiliary air back then? Ehh… To be fair, he still hadn’t read the manual.

The words they exchanged only half-registered. Church came back so soon, but he hadn’t seen Cappy in… forever, it felt like. Except in his dreams, sometimes. There sometimes Blue Team was all four of them. He got along with Caboose surprisingly well. Dreams were weird. Hey, maybe that was it. A dream. This was so weird it might as well be.

“I have something very important to tell you.”

His stalling, dragging the conversation out sure felt like a dream conversation. Bunch of tedious crap. Bullets were whizzing everywhere. Get to the point.

“I seem to be dramatically pausing for some--”

A sniper shot connected with Cappy. That was him, from the future.

Cappy fell to the ground-- with a “herk-blegh”, so he was definitely dead.

Yeah. This all made about as much sense as a dream.

“Well good riddance. I wasn't giving this armor back anyway.”

Stupid freakin’ lucid dreams. It was real. And he was the one who killed him that time. Never using a fucking sniper rifle again.

It finally sank in. Like, really. Tucker shook his head. “You’re not him.”

“What?”

“You’re not Church. Not really.”

“What, the Alpha? Yeah, no shit I’m not.”

Why did he have to sound so fucking like him?

Tucker goes off to rescue his kid, spends a little time with him, and then he reunites with the assholes and he finds out Church was an AI, offed himself, and now this other AI was walking-- er, floating initially-- around, calling himself Church. What the fuck. It was so much to process.

“Caboose can’t seem to wrap his head around that, but I’m glad the rest of you know. The Alpha’s gone. Like, for good.”

“Yeah, good riddance.” Another person not coming back. No warning. Just gone forever.

“Yeah, I heard he was a real asshole.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not any better. Welcome to Blue Team, asshole.” Tucker stormed out of the room.

“What’s up with you??”

Fuck him. Fucking asshole. Shut the fuck up.

“So, Tucker,” Caboose began, “while Wash is busy being angry in the base and looking for clues and stuff… yeah, I was kinda wondering if we could talk?”

“Talk about what?”

“Ah, you know, uh… I.. I miss Church.”

“Oh. That.”

“Yeah, my mom says it’s not good to stay quiet when you feel bad and if somebody is hurting you to make sure to tell people.” Caboose skuffed his foot against the ground. “And Church is hurting me by being gone again.”

“Yeah, well, he and Carolina are probably just looking around. Scouting the place, you know? They’ll be back. Or they’re dead. Y’know, whichever.” Caboose had the wrong idea. Thinking too much just made you feel worse. And then talking? That was worse yet. That was like thinking on steroids. It was better to just not care. Church was always angry because he cared too much.

“Is Church being gone, is that-- Does that hurt you too?”

“I mean I don’t have nice words to say to him when we see him again.”

“Mm… Yeah… It’d be cool if my sisters were here. They’d help us find Church! Maria and Sephi are great at scavenger hunts and hide and seek! They are professional seekers! Well, Maria is. For Sephi it’s just a hobby, but she’s still really good at it!”

“Mhm…” Tucker stared out at the mountains.

He was pretty pissed, too. He knew Wash was upset about both Carolina and Church ditching them, but Tucker didn’t really care about Carolina. They hardly knew her anyways. But Church… he could’ve at least said goodbye. Guess he really didn’t give a shit about any of them.

“He’s gone for real this time, huh?” Tucker backed against the wall and slid down. He was back in his regular armor. The Meta suit had stopped functioning, so the others had helped him out of it.

They won, but Epsilon-- Church was gone. Again. But Tucker had a feeling this time it would stick. And it did.

“Ain't that a bitch.” Church’s last words echoed in his head. Everyone was in various stages of mourning. Carolina had her head in her hands. Wash had his hand on her back. Grif and Simmons had put their bickering on pause. Even Sarge was being respectfully quiet.

Doc and Donut were a few feet away. Donut didn’t do too well in close-range combat, so this fight-- cornered in a single room-- didn’t go great for him. He’d be fine though. Everyone had concluded at some point that the man was practically unkillable, or at least had an endless supply of luck.

“Lucky for you,” O’Malley said to Donut, as if reading Tucker’s mind, “I didn’t completely forget about your existence.” Despite his known lack of medical experience, he was crouched next to Donut, looking over the armor dents and traces of blood.

“What do you mean?” Donut sounded a little woozy. Concussion? Blood loss? Whatever it was, they would be landing soon. Then some actual doctors could take a look.

“Oh, absolutely nothing at all.” O’Malley said bitterly. Doc chimed in, “I’ve got some bandaids, but I don’t know how effective putting them over the suit will be.”

“Yeah, I can strip for you. Be gentle though,” Donut winced as he started unclasping his armor.

“On second thought, maybe we’ll just let you die.”

Caboose waddled over and sat next to Tucker, arm against Tucker’s shoulder and head tilted to mimic leaning against him. Thankfully he didn’t actually put his weight on him. Tucker was not in the mood to be knocked to the floor.

“It’s ok, Tucker.” Caboose said. “He’ll come back. Church always comes back!” Somehow the certainty hurt more than his sulking after Carolina and Church ditched them.

Church had been there with them-- with Tucker, in his badass Meta suit. After the adrenaline wore off, Tucker realized Church wasn’t just being quiet. He wasn’t there.

There were other new files in his suit, sent over from the Meta suit in the fight-- more of his “home videos” had been deleted to make room, maybe later he’d feel upset about that. Each was titled “For” and one of their names. It was another goodbye, he just knew it. He’d wait and play them for everyone, once everyone had caught their breath. Or maybe even later. Maybe they’d each watch them individually. That’s probably what Church wanted. He’d let them decide. Tucker never played his.

Was a belated, one-sided goodbye any better than no goodbye at all? It didn’t feel any better.

“He’s gone, Caboose. He’s never coming back. He’s dead.” He felt a lump in his throat. He’d stop talking now. There wasn’t anything more to say anyways.

“What the fuck guys?!” Church’s shrill angry voice carried through the portal. “I came up here for some peace and quiet!”

“What on earth is happening?” Dylan asked.

“Loco’s machine opened a portal to the past!” Jax said. “Jeez, Dylan, try to keep up!”

“Oh,” Tucker said. “No freakin’ way!”

Church. Alpha, whatever the fuck-- It was Church! Tucker’s breath trembled. His exhaustion was overrun with adrenaline and excitement. He wanted to run over there himself, but his feet felt glued in place.

“Hurry! Hurry, Caboose! You don’t… have… long.” Loco stiffened. “Herk--” His helmet tilted sideways. “--blurg.” No more movement.

Caboose stared at Church-- for so long, it felt like-- then approached the portal. Grab him. He’s right there. Within reach, just--

“Caboose!” Tucker shouted. “Pull him through!” He’s right at the door. He’s back, he’s--

“No, Tucker. I--” Caboose looked down, then back up with purpose. “I know what I need to do.”

Tucker’s heart sank. Caboose was... right. Church was still gone. That was the past.

“Seriously, what the fuck is happening right now.” Church said. “Is there something in the water?”

Caboose needed this. Caboose needed to say goodbye. Tucker felt his cheeks grow wet under his helmet. Caboose needed this.

Tucker wouldn’t say anything to Church. What was the point? He was dead. No point in Tucker saying goodbye. Church left a long time ago. He wouldn’t know what he was talking about. Church was--

The switch from fluorescent lights to sun was no less jarring than last time.

“Wow. That must’ve... cut you to the bone! Sword sword sword!”

He glared at Grif, but he’d already run off. His excitement made Tucker’s heavy feelings worse.

Grif was right; Kai’s words had stung.

Because, she was right.

Why was he so desperate? Kai said she “loved to feel”. What did he love? He always ended up rejected anyways. His mama was right that he had good looks on his side, but his personality must be pretty rotten since no girl ever stuck around long. He either chickened out and left or the girl broke up with him.

What did he want?

The temple activation on Chorus was fucking heaven, the biggest high, so he assumed he was right all along. That was him. Dr Fuck. A ladies’ man. But, now… he wasn’t so sure. Sex was cool and everything, but was that what he wanted? Really wanted?

TV and movies made a relationship the reward. If you had a girl on your arm, it was because you fucking won. Hell, “happily ever after” meant you got hitched. Did he want that? Did he want what Kai had? Or did he want neither? That last one didn’t sound right.

He didn’t know if his mama dated. He assumed she did, but it was never really talked about. He knew she was straight, because when he told her she said, “Cool, me too.” He didn’t know if she was big on the dating scene, like he tried to be. But he did know that people were her life. She loved being with her friends. Out, having a good time. Far away from him.

Is that what he wanted? Did he just want… people?

He was alone.

“It’s not real. The Labyrinth is just an illusion. Everyone’s still okay. Probably.”

He tried his radio again. “Guys? Caboose? Wash? Anyone there?”

Silence.

He just had to wait this out. He paced. If he could just call someone. If he could reach one person.

The Labyrinth made people kill themselves, right? All he had to do was not do that. Easy enough. He just had to believe in the others. That they’d find him. He just needed to stay alive.

He glanced over at the ledge. Maybe he should stop pacing and just sit again. Less chance of falling in on accident.

How long had it been? How much time had passed? It was so quiet.

No response on the radio. That’s chill. It’s whatever. What if they’re dead?

He just needed to wait. Since he couldn’t leave, he’d just have to wait for them. They’d find him. They’d come back. Unless something happened to them.

What would everyone else’s hell boxes be like?

Grif’s probably had to do with bats and Simmons’ with snakes. Maybe bats are stealing all the food. That would have Grif fucking frantic. It was kind of a funny image. And for Simmons… The snakes... had the voice of his dad, spitting venomous words. He chuckled at his wordplay. Everybody knew about Simmons’ daddy issues. Man, that probably sucked. They could fight it though. They’d manage. He tapped his foot, knee bouncing in front of him.

Sarge was probably on Blue Team or some shit. It was probably something pretty stupid. I mean, the best the Labyrinth could come up with for Tucker was an empty room? Fucking weak. His breaths started to shudder.

What was Caboose afraid of? Did it have to do with Church? Losing him again and again, never able to really mourn him because the asshole kept coming back. Would the guys come back? It was so quiet in here. Deafening. Maybe he should start saying his thoughts out loud to break the silence. Or not. Words weren’t coming out. Ok, whatever, just keep thinking about the guys and not about how afraid and lonely you are.

Wash’s old freelancer friends were all dead. Would he see them? Would he have to watch them die again? No, keep it light. What’s a funnier, less serious fear of Wash’s? He was drawing a blank. Would Wash have to go through the shit at Temple’s lair again? The Labyrinth should’ve done that for Tucker’s. Watching it happen again would definitely be a nightmare. It was already vivid enough in his mind. Wash staggering in front of them. The bullet slicing through-- Fuck. Fuck. Shut up. Someone else. Think about something else. Wash. Wash. Bullet. Neck. Wash yelling. Carolina crying. Carolina!

Carolina’s must be some monster of a nightmare. Scary and strong enough to leave her head rolling on the floor. Tucker struggled to catch his breath. This one wouldn’t go away. This image and-- Caboose not moving, slumped over. Kai’s suit leaking blood. Sarge in two pieces. Lopez sparking on the floor. Wash-- Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. They’re facing illusions. It’s not real. They can’t get hurt like that. It’s not real.

Grif’s guts spilling out. Simmons’ helmet crushed, face only recognizable by the metal part glinting beneath the shattered visor. Wash over a stain of coughed up blood, eyes glassy.

They’re gone. They’re all gone.

Maybe they’re still alive. For how much longer? The Labyrinth will get them before they even get close to reaching him. Can’t-- can’t breathe.

He was the only one left. Everyone else was gone. He’d just be stuck in here until he died. The Labyrinth would probably try to make that happen sooner rather than later.

Don’t jump. Don’t jump. That’s your one job. Stay put. Starve sooner than give up. They’ll come.

They won’t.

His arms shook as his vision blurred with tears. Everyone-- Everyone’s gone. Everyone-- He was going to die here. Alone.

They were all gone. Gone. Gone. His vision blackened as he felt himself sink out of consciousness.

And opened his eyes to a nauseating feeling of vertigo. His head swam.

Where was he this time? He was sitting on the floor. It wasn’t the Labyrinth floor. Where was he now? He couldn’t make out much else, it was so hard to focus.

When did this happen? It wasn’t as familiar, but everything else had happened so this must’ve.

“Tucker?”

He took a breath. Tried to. Why was it so hard? Like his throat refused to open all the way, only letting little bits through at a time.

“His eyes stopped glowing.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I mean, probably. I don’t think any of us know how this stuff works.”

“Hey, AI dude. Is he done with the test? Can we go home?”

“Tucker,” A voice soothed. “It’s okay. Whatever you were seeing, it’s not real.”

His eyes refocused. His sword glowed against the floor, his fist tightly gripping the handle. Was this real? Two helmets on the floor. One teal, one gray with a yellow stripe. So that’s why something felt missing; his head was uncovered. He tried to— well, thought that he should try to stand. His calves and thighs flexed but no other movement occurred. With some effort, he looked up.

“Tucker? You with us? Do you think you could let go now?” Wash grimaced under his strained smile. He followed Wash’s eyes down to his hand. That’s what he’d been gripping. He tried to loosen his grip but his fingers wouldn’t listen. He tried to say so, but words wouldn’t come. He shook his head.

They were all going to— It wasn’t real, get a grip— Was this real?

Grif shuffled. “Simmons, can you help him? He’s doing that thing you do sometimes.”

“I mean, I guess. I’ve never helped someone else with an anxiety attack,” he rambled, “but I guess—“

“Any time now before my fingers fall off,” Wash cut in, but he put his other hand over Tucker’s. “It was just a test. And you passed it.”

Anxiety attack? Was that what this was? He was pretty sure he had a panic attack in the Labyrinth, but the memory was vague and slippery. And he was alone there. He didn’t have a fucking audience. Holy shit, they were all gonna give him crap about this later.

“How do we know he passed? The AI hasn’t said anything.”

“Not now, Grif,” Wash warned. He turned back to Tucker. “It’s okay.”

Tucker avoided eye contact with Wash. He knew he was trying to help, but it felt kind of patronizing.

“It’s probably different for everyone. Um…” Simmons bent down next to him.

This was humiliating. What the fuck was wrong with him? Move. You’re okay, so move. Let go, goddammit. Nothing. All he could manage was a shiver.

“It’s okay, Tucker.” God, Simmons, not you too. He was fine. He was fine. “Everyone’s here. What can we do to help?”

Say something. Say something. “I don’t...” It was shaky, but he got something out, “don’t know.”

“It’s just temporary, okay?” Simmons said. “This’ll pass.”

“Maybe it’d help if you actually sounded like you meant it,” Grif said.

“Shut the fuck up!” Simmons snapped at Grif. Simmons took a deep breath. “It’s okay that you’re feeling like this. It doesn’t feel good, but there’s nothing wrong with you.”

The words felt so far away. Not quiet, but separate, like in a dream. But this wasn’t one, so why did it feel like one? What was going on? Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

This happened in the Labyrinth too, but he thought it was some magic alien tech shit. That was happening now too, right? Please just be because of the alien tech. If this was just his brain, how the fuck was he gonna deal with this again? Last time he passed out and woke up when the others got back. But they were here now. Watching him fucking embarrass himself. Say you’re fine. Move!

He couldn’t.

Simmons hesitated. “Do you want a hug?”

His pride prickled in objection, but he was so tired. He could use something to lean on, assuming his body would let him move that much. He managed a nod.

Simmons pulled him into a hug, hesitantly. Tucker and Simmons weren’t close— a lot of what he knew about Simmons he knew from hanging out with Grif— but he’d spent enough time together to assume under that helmet was a panicked expression.

He leaned into Simmons. Hard and cool armor against his face. It wasn’t a comfortable pillow by any means, but at least he felt something. His body was so tired. He just wanted his muscles to stop clenching, arms to stop shivering, leg to stop bouncing. He wanted to believe it was okay, that there was no danger, but his brain still screamed at him. Louder when he stopped the little movements.

“Breathe in two three four five six. Out two three four five six.” Simmons’ voice wavered less as he repeated. Tucker followed along as best he could, but he only managed to get halfway through the counts before breathing shakily in again.

A hand tentatively held his back. “I’ve got you. It’s okay, I’ve been there.”

Wash took his resting hand off of Tucker’s, his right still trapped in Tucker’s left. “I’ve seen some hell before, too. It-- It’s ok to accept help and support.” He scooted in closer, unable to wrap an arm around Tucker, but he was there. “You aren’t alone.”

Grif shouted out the door, “Hey, Caboose! We’re doing a group hug.”

Footsteps thundered quickly from the other room.

“Running running running running huUUGGG!” Caboose sprinted and slid into the huddle, slowing his momentum just enough to not knock them over like bowling pins. Still, there was enough force to startle a gasp of air into Tucker’s lungs.

Simmons tensed around him. “Oh jeez— erk.”

A smile twitched at Tucker’s lips.

Caboose wrapped his arms as far around the group as he could. “Group hugs are the best.”

Grif joined the group hug-- he definitely waited intentionally.

“The door opened. We have what we need. How’s Tucker doing?” Carolina asked, entering briskly. Sarge followed close behind with Lopez, carrying… something. Probably the thing. The thing they needed. Right.

Carolina surveyed the huddle and, without another word, walked over with purpose and latched on.

Sarge and Lopez set the thing down carefully and Sarge jogged over, knees high. “Geranimo!” He tackled onto the pile, raising some grunts and complaints. “Get over here, Lopez!”

Lopez followed and unenthusiastically spread his arms around Carolina and Caboose.

Caboose hummed happily. “Wow, it’s the whole fam!” Caboose rocked back and forth, swaying the group slightly. “That’s what Kai says. Fam. Fam fam fam. Fam fam.”

Tucker laughed, and like a floodgate unlocked, it turned to sobbing. Tears burned his eyes as his hand gripping Wash went slack and slid to his side like the other. The sword handle clattered to the floor.

He sobbed, for the first time in a long time. His breaths were longer again, only to let the wails out. He hugged Simmons back and mourned his childhood, his mama, Cappy, Church, his fears, all at once— surrounded by his family.

——the end——

Caboose ends up naming this AI Wanta. Because he is a purple and mean (made Tucker very upset!) version of Santa. Wah~

Kai is only an honorary member of the group in that she, like Doc, lives elsewhere and just visits. Donut is currently away, traveling after the events of season 17.

As for Tucker’s awareness in the memories, he didn’t become more or less aware as it went on. More like a dream where it fluctuates, and as soon as a non-diegetic thought completed, it was forgotten.

Intentionally disorienting but still clear is a really difficult mix. I did my best.

Shh... let’s just pretend Tucker knew the Labyrinth did that because I don’t want to rewrite the scene a third time.

---

Wanna toss a couple bucks my way? Here’s my ko-fi

[aces-to-apples]

I actually... genuinely really liked the finalé and pretty much everything about it.

It plays into the concept of causality which I've always preferred and which is always ignored when it comes to fictional time-travel, solving the paradox with the causality loop of Genkins becoming Chrovos.

Genkins' own thirst for power and "something interesting" sends him jumping into a goddamn black hole and becoming Chrovos themself, again playing into the causality loop, but Chrovos not even (seemingly) remembering it after a scientific eon. Or, possibly, she remembered how it happened and understood that it had to happen that way because of causality? Unclear, and that's perfectly fine.

The Labyrinth and its A.I. using intruders' own minds, fears, and weaknesses as its weapons because physically harming humans (organic sentients, maybe?) goes against the A.I.s programming.

The Gods being A.I.s themsevles, of course, but that's not necessarily a finalé thing, it's just something that still tickles me as a Halo fan. Ooh, man, the academic papers on rampancy that I just really, really, really want to read, ooh, man!

Donut being the one to understand the causal nature of the time-loop that is the existence of the universe and being the one to, essentially, cause the creation of the universe. Good on you, Donut, for finally becoming a tolerable character.

Caboose broke through the Labyrinth because he really... just doesn't have the self-doubts, fears, or even motivations that everyone else does. He's just here to help his friends. This just in, the Labyrinth doesn't work on people who are neurodivergent!

Along the same vein, I'm actually pretty pleased that the nature of causality doesn't allow the end of the season to retcon Wash's injury. I'm not disabled, but I understand it's a pretty upsetting trope(?) to magically cure disabilities, so the fact that the writers didn't try any of that bullshit feels good to me.

The Grifs getting some genuinely heartfelt connection and character development. Tucker getting past the Shisno Paradox that amplified his worst qualities and bringing him back around to his end-Chorus characterization of being a pretty decent leader who cares about being a good leader. Doc and O'Malley coming to some sort of internal agreement.

And then... Carolina. I've seen a lot of griping that the last few seasons have just been retreading the same ground with Carolina, presumably because the writers don't know what to do with female characters. And I've never really agreed with that.

Seasons nine and ten were her introduction and acceptance into the group (and the cast, lbr), but she still ran away when they crashed on Chorus without saying goodbye. She got closure about the way Freelancer ended, the Director's actions, and the way that he and the project abused her and the Freelancers. Yes, there was some character development about the aftermath of trauma, the benefits and detriments of seeking both justice and vengeance, and ultimately finding ways of moving on after hardship, but that wasn't the focus.

The Chorus Trilogy had her facing the, shall we say, concrete ramifications of Project Freelancer's (as well as the Freelancers') actions, specifically with regards to their enemies. Sharkface, of course, but also Hargrove. It was all just meaningless competition and it ruined Terence's life directly, and the lives on Chorus indirectly through Hargrove. She got closure about the Project's role in the war, the Freelancers' role in the war, and the consequences of them both. She came face to face with proof that they were not the unequivocal good guys that they were led to believe, that they hurt people who didn't deserve it, and learned how accept that and still try to become a better person. There was further character development about accepting that bad things happen to good people, bad people, and just people, and sometimes you're the bad thing that happens to them, but that doesn't necessarily define you and you can always strive to be better than you were. But, again, that wasn't the focus.

I feel like The Shisno Paradox really focused on the mental and emotional impacts of everything that happened. Season 15 was similar to 13 in how the Project caused irreparable harm not just to its members and enemies, but also innocent bystanders, which I'm sure is why it was so heavily criticized, but I feel that was an important distinction to address. Hargrove's soldiers knew what they were getting into and threw themselves into the conflict, whereas Temple and Biff wanted nothing to do with it, were kept far away, but they were still impacted, still harmed.

The guilt of ruining the Blues' and Reds' lives without even knowing or caring dovetails neatly with 16's focus on the guilt of failing to protect loved ones and then overcompensating to their detriment. Trying to make amends for harm done, intentionally or unintentionally, and then making even more of a mess and having to step up and do the hard things to fix it.

And then it all comes together in season 17, and comes to a head in the finalé, when we finally get a really stark look at how far Carolina has come. She meets, if not her past self, then her own conceptualization of her past self and past actions: ambitious to the point of ruthless, callous to the point of uncaring, so desperate for the approval of her father (and, lemme tell you it was incredibly satisfying not just to hear her call the Director her father but also to call out his abuse in the same breath) who had, in effect, died when his wife did. To quote another incredibly-damaged, fictional woman, Carolina "wanted to be loved by a man incapable of giving love", and that need drove her to do a lot of really terrible shit.

But.

The Labyrinth's attempt at getting her to self-destruct by reflecting her worst attributes and actions back at her didn't work, because she's come so far since then. Because she's worked through trauma and loss and come out the other side with a damn good support system of friends and family who love her just as much as she does them. Past!Carolina may have been a better fighter--and that's, like, debatable--but the point is that the Carolina of now doesn't fight alone. She has a team and a family and even when they fail, they do it together and come back to do better, and failure together has come to mean more to Carolina than succeeding alone ever did.

Agent Carolina has spent the last seven seasons healing, and I feel like spreading it across those seasons made it far more satisfying and organic a journey than it would have if they'd crammed it into one arc or even dropped it after the first couple. Healing and becoming a better person isn't linear in real life like it is in the show, but the fact that resolving one set of issues teases out two more that they didn't realize existed feels very true to my experience as a child of an emotionally withholding and abusive parent. It fucks you up in ways you don't even realize until you're staring at a funhouse mirror version of yourself and can see how far you've come.

[elementalwriter67]

Time to get Back in Action

Pairing: Grif x Reader, Reds and Blues x Reader

Word Count: 5520

A/N: I’ve been watching a lot of Red Vs Blue lately and Grif somehow became one of my favorite characters so I figured I write something for him. Takes place during season 15.

Summary:  The reader has been working with the reds and blues ever since they were back at Blood Gulch and needless to say it’s been a long, frustrating, and fucking weird journey but you wouldn’t have it any other way. So when the opportunity to have a break after freeing an entire planet from the control of the Chairman and his mercenaries for hire, along with stopping an entire civil war, you and a certain orange soldier immediately jumped on the opportunity. And things were going great it was a whole year full of rest and relaxation and you couldn’t have been happier or more bored, which is why when Dylan showed up with a message saying Church was alive you eagerly agreed with the others on going to find him well almost everyone.

“Grif! Grif! Are you over here?!” You shouted as you walked down the beach towards your friends usual resting spot on the beach. Your answer was an annoyed groan and the man’s head popping up from behind a rock a sight that caused you to stop and raise an eyebrow at him.

“What do you want?!” Grif shouted back dragging himself up into a better sitting position so that you could at least see his armored shoulders.

“Nothin I just wanted to see what you were doing.” You stated as you hopped on top of the rock sitting down cross-legged and leaning forward so that your elbows were resting on your knees and you were looking down at Grif. He squinted up at you the sun blinding him slightly but mainly being blocked out by your head.

“(Y/N) we’re on vacation for the first time in our lives and that means two things one that Sarge can’t boss me around and two that we don’t have to do any work so what the hell did you think I was doing?” Grif responded and you smiled down at him.

“Do you really want me to answer that? Because there’s a number of things you could have been doing especially behind this rock.” You pointed out and it took Grif a second to process what you’d said and when he did a bright red blush spread across his cheeks that made you giggle.

“Oh, my gods! You just as bad as Tucker!” Grif shouted reaching up to smack at you and you giggled easily dodging the hand he attempted to smack you with, a smile on his face.

“Hey! I’m just calling it as I see it and right now all I see is you behind a rock by yourself, what exactly did you expect me to think?” You asked him mimicking his words from earlier which caused him to roll his eyes but the smile never left his face.

“Alright smartass I get it, now are you going to stay on that rock or are you going to come down here and join me?” Grif asked and you smiled as you stood up and hoped down from the rock landing next to him barely disturbing the sand as you landed and then plopped down next to him. Kicking your feet up you crossed your hands behind your head and stared up at the sky a comfortable silence falling over the two of you as you just laid there in the warm sand. The silence lasted for a couple of minutes before Grif finally spoke up.

“So what was the real reason that you were looking for me anyway?” Grif asked and you were silent for a couple of seconds before sighing as you sat up loosely wrapping your arms around your knees as you looked out at the ocean.

“In all honesty, I’m just bored.” You told him and Grif’s brow furrowed in confusion as he looked at you.

“You’re bored so you came to find me? I’m sure the others are doing something far more exciting than laying here in the sand.” Grif commented and you sighed again looking up at the sky in mild frustration.

“I’m sure they are too but I don’t know, knowing that I still feel bored. Don’t get me wrong I went to check out what they were doing but I still felt bored just standing there watching them hell I didn’t even think participating sounded fun!” You paused sighing as you ran your fingers through your hair before continuing. “I don’t know maybe I’m broken or something.” You said with a shrug, wrapping your arms around your knees. Grif was silent for a couple of seconds watching you as you stared out at the ocean stretching out in front of you for miles before finally sitting up crossing his legs, he didn’t look at you though instead he started out ahead.

“I wouldn’t say that you’re broken (Y/N) everyone gets bored every now and again, I’m sure the feeling will pass eventually,” Grif said you frowned as you looked at the ocean. You were silent for a moment trying to think of what to say because if you were being honest this boredom had been going on for a while now and no matter what you did you just couldn’t shake the feeling of boredom. Even with the other Reds and Blues doing their usual antics didn’t interest you and you were starting to worry that maybe what you needed was to go on another adventure with the guys. The reason that scared you so much was that you didn’t really want to go on an adventure you wanted to be here, you wanted to stay on this moon, you wanted to stay right here on this beach with Grif and not take orders from Sarge or Washington.

“What if it doesn’t?” You asked him as you wrapped your arms around your legs as you rested your head on top of your knees. You jerked at the sudden weight on your shoulders, looking towards Grif to see that he had wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Relax you’ll be fine, just give it a couple of weeks.” He said giving you a reassuring smile as he pulled you into his side your armor thumping metallically against his and you smiled laying your head on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Grif.” You said still smiling as you watched the water lap lazily at the shore. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you just sat there on the beach listening to the distant screaming of the guys as they did whatever insane stunt they were doing right now though by the sounds of it seemed like Caboose was the one causing the most trouble. You chuckled slightly when you heard Wash’s cry of either terror or anger echoing all the way down to the beach, Grif laughing right along with you. The moment was broken by a small shiny light appearing in the distance, you squinted at the light standing up from Grif’s hold shielding your eyes and trying to get a better look at whatever was in the distance.

“What the hell is that?” You asked causing Grif to look towards the sky with you.

“What are you looking at?” Grif asked and you pointed towards the light which was steadily getting bigger the closer it got.

“That, what the hell is that?” You stated and Grif stood up shielding his eyes with his own hand as he looked where you were pointing. His eyes widened when he saw the shiny dot you had been talking about and the two of you stood there in utter confusion watching as the dot got bigger until the two of you could finally make out what it was.

“Oh my god, that’s a spaceship. Why is a spaceship coming towards us? Why the fuck is there a spaceship?!” Grif shouted in near hysterics.

“Doesn’t matter come on we better get back up there with the others before that ship touches down.” You said as you grabbed a hold of Grif’s hand and began dragging him towards the natural steps leading back up to the bases you guys were staying in.

“Alright! Alright, I’m coming!” Grif shouted as he pulled his hand free shoving his helmet back on and following you up the cliff.

As it would turn out that spaceship hadn’t been carrying anyone intent on hurting the reds and blues, for fucking once, but it had been carrying an entirely different load of problems. Said problems came in the form of a Reporter and her cameraman and the news that they had brought with them, news that meant a number of things and you had mixed feelings about all of it. The news that they had brought with them was the news of another group of reds and blues out there pretending to be you guys and causing a shit load of trouble for the UNSC. Then there was the bombshell to end all bombshells. Along with the news you guys were all now wanted criminals it also turned out that Church was alive, again, and he needed your guys to help and it was that information where your mixed feelings really came in to play. On one hand, you wanted to go save Church, you knew you guys should go save Church and dare you to think if you were also excited about the idea of going on another adventure. On the other hand, though you didn’t want to, you didn’t want to go save Church, you didn’t want to deal with his problems again, you didn’t want to risk your life for an AI that barely managed to tolerate any of you. Despite all of that though you found yourself agreeing to go along with everyone, to help them save Church which is also why you were currently standing outside in between Lopez and Simmons only half paying attention to what Sarge was saying.

“That’s a good point, Lopez, where is Grif?” At the mention of Grif’s name, you were snapped out of your thoughts blinking a couple of times and looking around, your brow furrowed in confusion when you didn’t see him.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen him since the meeting. (Y/N) have you seen him?” Simmons asked looking over at you and you shook your head.

“No, I haven’t seen him since the meeting either.” You responded. Your gut twisted uncomfortably as a heavy feeling settled in your gut and you surrounded the area, it was like Grif to wander off but it was unlike you not to see where he went.

“I know what’s happening! He’s been captured by the Whites! This. Means. War.” Sarge stated completely serious and you sighed looking down at the ground, now you were incredibly glad you hadn’t really been paying attention to what Sarge had been saying.

“Sarge I really don’t think Grif was captured by the Whites.” You told him but he ignored you turning around to face where the blues were standing talking to Dylan and Jax.

“Nonsense (Y/L/N)! Of course, those Whites would capture Grif those conniving devils! Follow me, men!” Sarge shouted as he ran down the hill towards the blues and Dylan and Jax. You and Simmons both sighed heavily while Lopez muttered something in Spanish that neither of you could understand before you and Simmons ran after Sarge.

“Back off, missy! We know you have Grif! Give him back or I start shootin’!” Sarge shouted as he raised his shotgun and pointed it at Dylan and once again you sighed heavily reaching up and hitting your palm against your helmet.

“Sarge for the last time she doesn’t have Grif!” You shouted at him but your words went unheard by Sarge once again and you dropped your head back looking up at the sky as you shook your head listening to the others confirm what you’d already told him. You cared about Sarge you really did but sometimes… ok, a lot of times you were left wondering how the man hadn’t gotten himself killed yet with his stupidity, then again with the track record all of you had even if he did get killed he’d probably come back to life.

“Great. Just great. Now we’ve gotta find Grif, we don’t have time for this!” Tucker complained and your head snapped up to level a glare at him.

“If this was one of your teammates I’m sure you wouldn’t be complaining about having to look for him.” You grumbled just barely loud enough for Simmons to hear and you could feel him send a look your way but you ignored it as you attempt to make Tucker spontaneously combust.

“I agree, let’s pack up and prepare to move out, I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Washington said, at the last bit he looked over at you from where you were standing next to Simmons and you muttered a couple things under your breath but stopped staring at Tucker. He was right Grif would probably turn up in the end, he always did, but that didn’t mean you felt any better about not knowing where he was.

“Right.” You agreed with him and Wash nodded.

“I’ll go check the pantry,” Simmons said as he turned to walk towards the bases with everyone else and you nodded.

“I’ll check the beach.” You told him turning and walking in the opposite direction, it wouldn’t hurt to look for him a little bit before packing after all.

~Elsewhere~

“And you’re sure you saw him go in?” Dylan asked Jax as she looked away from the cave entrance and towards her cameraman who nodded his head.

“Yeah! He was acting just like Gollum, he was all mutter and crawly…” Jax trailed off when Dylan looked back at the cave a quick moment of silence fell over the two of them as Dylan thought of what to do.

“Ok, you stay here I’m going to go in and see if I can talk the cat out of the tree,” Dylan said already walking towards the cave.

“Wait! You don’t want me to come with you and film?” Jax asked and Dylan shook her head.

“No, I doubt he’ll even talk to me but I know for a fact there’s no way he’s going to talk to the two of us besides I don’t think this is a moment he’d want to be filmed anyways. So you just stay here I’ll handle this.” Dylan said turning back around and walking into the cave entrance. For a couple of feet, Dylan walked in silence following the surprisingly narrow tunnel to a slightly larger area and it wasn’t until she noticed an orange figure sitting on the floor with their head against the wall a few feet away that she finally said anything.

“Grif?... Grif?” Dylan asked her voice calm and soft like she was trying not to scare away a timid animal as she slowly walked up to Grif who didn’t look away from the ceiling to look at her.

“Go away,” Grif stated his voice heavy and his tone fed up but serious at the same time. Dylan took a deep breath as she mentally prepared herself to talk to Grif like she would any other person she was interviewing. Calm, cool, and collected with a hint of concern and caring in her voice she would need all of that if she hoped to figure out what was wrong with Grif and why he wasn’t with the others.

“I just want to talk,” Dylan said her tone calm and confident as she stopped a reasonable distance in front of him.

“Yeah well, I don’t want to talk to you! Or to anyone for that matter! So make like a tree and fuck off!” Grif shouted as he lowered his head to look at Dylan. Dylan could feel the glare he was giving her even through the helmet he was wearing. This was going to be trickery than she thought it would have been.

“I… see you’re upset,” Dylan stated hesitating for a second before continuing making sure to choose her words carefully. “Can I ask you why you’re upset?” She finished and Grif’s glare did not lighten if anything it only worsened as he stood up, picking his gun up from where he’d laid it beside him.

“You! You are why I’m upset! You show up here unannounced and you drop a fucking bomb on us! And then everyone goes springing into action! We are supposed to be done! We are supposed to be retired! I don’t wanna go on another adventure! I don’t wanna listen to Sarge! I don’t wanna get shot at! I don’t want to shoot at other people! I want to relax! I want to chill!!!! I want to sit down and chill and not have to worry about dying every fucking second but thanks to you I can’t do that now can I?!” Grif shouted his words filled with a mix of frustration and anger. Dylan blinked him a couple of times as she calmed her own emotions, she was now extremely glad she’d left Jax outside she’d been yelled at and blamed for things before so she could handle this, this she was used to, but she highly doubted Jax was.

“So what? You just want to leave Church to his fate?” She asked and that seemed to be the wrong thing to ask him because he all but lost it at that.

“FUCK CHURCH! I spent half my life dealing with his shit! His ex-girlfriend! His daddy issues! His resurrections! His bullshit! Why can’t he just stay dead?” Grif’s anger had tapered off towards the end of that and all that was left was hurt mixed with what seemed like desperation. A moment of silence followed suit as Dylan thought of what to say and Grif waited to see what the reporter would do, hoping that she would just end up walking away and leaving him alone.

“You know I’ve spent a lot of time looking at logs, reading transcripts, and talking to eyewitnesses and you want to know what they all say? They all say the same thing about you that you’re the lazy one, the one who doesn’t care…” Dylan paused for second thinking ahead a couple of words.

“Nailed it,” Grif stated when she paused and Dylan scowled at him before continuing.

“And you know what? I think they’re wrong because your actions tell a completely different story. They tell a story of someone who always answers the call, who cares about his friends, who always help them when they need it and is willing to fight for them just the same. But more importantly, they tell the story of someone who’s willing to fight for the greater good. I mean I saw you giving Sarge CPR in the Blood Gulch logs! You saved his life! And you expect me to believe that you actually want Church to stay dead? Admit it Grif you care about your friends just like your sister said.” Dylan finished and there was a beat of silence as the two of them stared at each other and for a moment. Just a moment Dylan had hope that she had changed his mind.

“YOU DON’T KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT ME, LADY!!! I HATE EVERYBODY! I HATE SIMMONS!! I HATE SARGE!! I HATE DONUT!! BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY OF ALL, I HATE FUCKING CHURCH!!! SO GO AHEAD AND PRINT THAT IN YOUR FUCKING PAPER!!!” Grif exploded. Anger radiated off of him in waves as he stormed past her.

“What about Private (Y/L/N)?! Do you hate her too?!” Dylan shouted after him as she spun around to face him desperate to get him to stop and actually think about what she had said. Grif stopped mid-stride not bothering to turn around and instead staring straight ahead.

“What did you say?” He asked his tone was almost unreadable now and Dylan gulped fear gripping her fast but she’d crossed worse lines than this and there was no going back now.

“I said what about Private (Y/L/N)? I told you Grif I’ve watched the logs from Blood Gulch you expect me to believe that you really hate her?” Dylan asked and she couldn’t fully tell but she was pretty sure that Grif had tensed up as he continued to refuse to look back at her.

“Yeah well don’t believe everything you see on the internet.” Grif’s tone was still unreadable as he stalked out of the cave leaving Dylan there to wallow in her failure for a couple of seconds before she sighed and walked out of the cave. Jax was still standing there waiting for her when she got out.

“So how’d it go?” Jax asked and she rolled her eyes like he didn’t already know from how Grif had stormed out of the cave.

“Not good. I just hope I didn’t mess anything up for these guys now come on we better be getting back.” Dylan said and she honestly did mean it. For the first time in a long time, she was actually worried that she may have fucked everything up beyond repair.

~Back with the Others~

You were standing in front of two spaceships with the others that unease in your stomach growing worse and worse the closer it got to all of you leaving, of course, it didn’t help that Grif still wasn’t here. Simmons hadn’t found him in the pantry and you hadn’t managed to find him on the beach, you had even checked his room and a few other places before you forced to actually pack for this mission and you still hadn’t found him and now you were just getting more nervous and more and more worried about what had happened to him.

“Alright everyone listen up! We’re going to be splitting up! Attacking this situation from both flanks will generally be easier. Carolina and I will be paying a few visits to some fellow Freelancer alumni to see if we can learn anything meanwhile the rest of you with the help of the press will locate the source of Church’s message. Now enough words, wheels up in 10 and remember-Oh!” Wash cut himself off as he looked to his right all of you doing the same. Immediately the feeling in your stomach and the tension in your body disappeared when you saw Grif walking towards you all.

“Well look who’s finally decided to grace us with his presence!” Wash finished and you rolled your eyes. Wash may have been teasing him but you could tell that he was just as glad as you were that Grif has shown up.

“Great! Everyone’s here we can all leave now.” Tucker said with some relief in his voice but mainly urgency. He was already starting to move to the ship all of you would be taking.

“And where have you been, soldier?!” Sarge shouted moving so that he was standing next to Wash and you moved so that you could actually see Grif who stopped a couple of feet away from the group rather than joining the rest of you. Your brows furrowed at that, usually Grif would come to stand right next to you or at the very least he would go to stand next to Simmons he never kept his distance like this.

“Thinking.” He said after a moment of hesitation and the others all made noises of either disbelief or laughter.

“Oh yeah? About what?” Tucker asked with a scuff.

“About food probably,” Simmons responded and you glared at the both of them, you may have been wearing a helmet but they caught the fact that you were glaring at them and stopped laughing before they could even begin. The two of them looked away from you and refused to look back until you had looked away.

“No. Actually, I was thinking that I quit.” Grif stated and you were frozen as you stared at him blinking a couple of times there was no way that he had just said that, you must have heard him wrong.

“What? Quit what?” Simmons asked and Grif looked at him.

“The military. You. All of you, take your pick, either way, I’m not going, I’m staying.” Grif’s voice was firm and clear as he looked around at all of you his gaze lingering for a couple of seconds on you before moving quickly to someone else.

“What?” You breathed out shock had taken a hold of your body and you found that you couldn’t really move, your brain was moving a mile a second trying to process what it was that was happening.

“You can’t quit! That’s not allowed!” Tucker shouted, your question getting drowned out by his statement.

“Yes, I can. I can do whatever the fuck I want, I’m not in the military anymore you guys don’t get to tell me what to do anymore especially you Sarge.” Grif stated and there was a certain amount of joy to his tone that only seemed to fuel the shock and confused chaos that was your mind as you continued to stare at him.

“But… But what about Church?” Caboose asked his voice tiny and hurt as he looked at Grif.

“Oh my god, can’t you all just let it go already? Church has died and come back more times than I can care to count and it’s starting to get fucking old.” Grif said looking mainly at Caboose when he said it and Caboose looked down at the ground.

“What the fuck dude? Seriously?! You’ve always been selfish but this really takes the fucking cake!” Tucker shouted and Grif turned his attention to him as he was silent for a beat.

“I don’t like you,” Grif stated his voice calm and almost emotionless as he stared directly at Tucker before looking at the rest of you.  “Any of you.” He added on. At that, your brain stopped completely everything you had been thinking disappearing instantly and instead being replaced with the words the Grif had just said.

“Listen, guys, we’ve known each other for a long time and I just figured that you should all hear it from me first. I’m done.” Grif said as he turned around and walked off.

You just stood there staring at his retreating figure as your brain continued to replay what Grif had just said, as your brain repeated those three little words that had managed to completely destroy you in a matter of seconds. Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest and you couldn’t move, you couldn’t feel anything other than the tightness in your chest and you couldn’t hear anything as you just stood there watching Grif walk away shock and hurt rendering you immobile. Shaking your head you forced yourself to think of something else, you had to do something, you had to get to the bottom of this you couldn’t just let him walk away. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

“Pssh, who needs him?! Good riddance is what I say!” Tucker shouted after him and that finally snapped you back into action as you started moving forward.

“Tucker!” Wash yelled at him as he hit Tucker watching as you moved forward.

“(Y/N)?” Wash asked his voice gentle as he watched you but you ignored him, walking in the direction that Grif had left in.

“Where the hell are you going?” Tucker asked you.

“I’m going to talk to him.” You responded not bothering to turn around as you kept walking.

“What?! What about Church?!” Tucker shouted after you his voice filled with frustration and disbelief.

“Church waited this long to get a message to us, one more fucking minute isn’t going to hurt him.” You responded your voice making it clear that you weren’t about to be swayed on this topic.

“Which is exactly-” “Enough Tucker. Let her go talk to him.” Sarge interrupted him and Tucker looked at Sarge in shock, that was the first time he was pretty sure that Sarge had ever addressed him by name let alone in such a fatherly tone of voice. Grumbling a couple of things under his breath Tucker turned and walked away from all of them heading to the reporter's spaceships.

“We’ll be waiting for you!” Simmons shouted after you as he turned around and walked away with the others. You ignored them all as you jogged a little to catch up with Grif. You found him standing in the same spot that you had found him this morning. You stopped where you were staring at him for a couple of seconds as you tried to calm your rapidly beating heart before walking up to him.

“Grif I-” “Go away (Y/N).” Grif interrupted you before you could say anything else his voice almost emotionless as he stared out at the sea and you stopped walking towards him.

“Grif please I just want to talk to you.” You were having a hard time keeping the pleading out of your voice and keeping your emotions under control as you shifted.

“Yeah well I don’t want to talk to you besides don’t you have a spaceship to board and a dead guy to go save?” he asked and this time there was a bit of hurt to his tone which only seemed to only make the tightness in your chest worse.

“I don’t care about that right now, all I care about right now is you and figuring out what the hell is going on with you right now?” You said and finally, Grif turned to look at you.

“Oh don’t pretend like you actually care.” His words practically slapped you in the face as he glared at you from underneath his helmet.

“I-wha… what? Grif what are you talking about? Of course, I care about you, how can you say that?” The tightness in your chest had gotten worse and now there was an almost nauseous feeling in your stomach as you stared at him your eyes full of hurt.

“Cut the bullshit (Y/L/N)!” Grif shouted suddenly and you flinched taking a step back from him. Having him call you by your last name hurt more than him saying that he didn’t like you ever could.

“Grif, please-” “No! You know I honestly thought that you would get it, that you out of everybody would understand what it was like to be on vacation what it was like to constantly help people who couldn’t care less about you and whether or not you lived or died. I honestly thought that we were on the same page when it came to finally have a vacation.” Grif ranted and you shook your head your eyes stinging with tears of frustration and hurt as you took a step towards him.

“I do Grif, I understand that I really do and we are on the same page we’ve always been on the same page.” You pleaded with him desperate to get him to see that you weren’t the enemy here, that you weren’t trying to hurt him. Desperately trying to figure out what was going on.

“Stop lying to me (Y/L/N)! Do you honestly think that I didn’t see the way your eyes lit up when Tucker and Caboose demanded that we go find and save Church?! How you looked the most excited and interested than you had in weeks?! How you all but tackled Tucker and Caboose in your rush to agree with them?! I may be lazy (Y/L/N) but I’m not fucking stupid! In the end, you’re just like them, all you care about is going on adventures, risking your life for a guy who’s been dead for pretty much a year at this point! We were never on the same page you were just pretending to like me, to enjoy spending time with me while we were on this vacation just so you’d have something to do.” Grif said and you could hear the hurt in his voice. You shook your head again taking a step towards him as a single tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. It hurt that Grif was saying this, that he was using your last name, but what hurt the most was the fact that you knew he was right, not about the using him thing but about the fact that this was the most excited you’d been in weeks. That you had practically jumped on the opportunity to get off this moon. It hurt that he was right about that and that you were all but defenseless to stop it.

“Grif please if you would just… if you would just let me explain.” You pleaded with him but he turned away from you.

“Don’t bother.” His voice had gone back to that emotionlessness before and you hated it. Hated how it didn’t seem like he was feeling anything. Hated how he could say those words like the years of the two of you being together and, the years of trusting and of being there for each other hadn’t even fucking mattered to him.

“Grif, please-” “GO (Y/L/N)!” Grif shouted easily drowning out your weak voice. You flinched again opening your mouth to say something before closing it and turning around.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered before walking away. Tears were falling steadily down your face and your shoulders shook slightly with silent sobs that you were desperately trying to get under control before walking on to the spaceship. You were grateful when no one said anything to you as you walked onto the spaceship and even more thankful when no one questioned you about what happened with Grif instead you moved to the nearest empty seat and remained silent as the spaceship took off. Leaving Grif and the remnants of your heart with it in the process.

[anneapocalypse]

[RvB 17.12] The Finale: Theogeny

For the most part, I did enjoy the finale.

Donut and Doc got a hot second of screentime together! It's a small thing but I ship them and it made me smile.

I really, really enjoyed Doc getting a moment of introspection, accepting his O'Malley side as a part of himself, and asserting agency of that side of him. And Doc swooping in to help Wash in his part of the Labyrinth was its own kind of poetic.

They're doing the thing where Donut doesn't swear again, and I still don't understand why.

The Grif siblings scene was one of the best parts, I think. Kaikaina's childhood doesn't really have anything to do with the main story, but in her case I don't think it needs to, and it opened up an avenue not only for character development but also for us to see more of her relationship with her brother. It was an interesting choice to retcon Grif's one-man draft, and I don't think it was a bad one. I think it does feel significant for Grif to have joined the army just to get away from a home situation where he felt lost and stagnant... only to have the army feel just as meaningless and stupid. Overall, this scene was a really great moment for both characters and I dig it.

I can't say I understand why Sarge is in... Normandy, instead of revisiting his old ODST days or some other real military experience of his. I liked what they were setting up with him in the previous episode, but it feels to me like they lost the thread a little. Still, I think the overall idea—that Sarge is restless for glory in battle but when he actually gets there he finds it's just imminent death—works well enough.

Simmons... definitely got the shaft in this episode. His illusion is stupid. (And if you want to get into the weeds with me, it doesn't make any sense that Simmons' fear would be 1960s-style UFO movie aliens when this is a world where aliens actually exist and there was a war with them that spanned Simmons' entire life—aliens can't be Movie Monsters representative of cultural anxieties in a society where aliens are real. Anyway, moving on.) I wouldn't care that his Labyrinth vision was stupid if everyone's was stupid, but when all the other characters got an illusion that was at least going for serious and meaningful—well, it kinda sucks for Simmons. RvB Tonal Whiplash strikes again, I guess.

I'm less disappointed about not getting Serious Character Development for Simmons than I am about not really getting any resolution for Grif and Simmons' relationship, which since the beginning of season 16 has been pretty much dropped in a hole and left there. It's fine to have Grif picking on him given that that's the basis of their entire relationship, but it's not so great to end the whole story arc that way. It's especially not great when Grif's whole arc, which hinged on his relationships with his friends, also got dropped last season, and while he had a great moment with his sister, it didn't do anything to resolve that arc. So that's a shame.

Tucker's scene was brief but it worked fine, and his character arc was already resolved as well as it could be. I'm completely find with the Labyrinth being unable to torment Caboose (even though it makes the Labyrinth a much more on-the-nose ripoff of the True Warrior test) for the simple reason that I do not need to see Caboose sad again. They definitely could have done something meaningful for Caboose in a longer season but I completely understand why they didn't have time for it here and if anyone didn't need to be tortured, lonely and sad here it was Caboose.

I said what I had to say about Carolina's Labyrinth vision last episode, though I could probably write a whole other post just about how badly the recent seasons misread Carolina's relationship with her team in Freelancer, and I might still do that. (And for the record, this episode pretty much nukes the possibility that past!Carolina is intentionally wildly distorted, as they have present!Carolina comment out loud on how accurate an imitation she was, so... heavy sighing. You didn’t believe me when I said maybe this is what Jason really thinks Carolina was like in Freelancer, did you? I hate it when I’m right.) 

But I will also say that I deeply appreciated the way Carolina's illusion resolved. As soon as Carolina said, "Leave her to me," I thought, nah, that's not how she wins. Present!Carolina is stronger than her past self because she has people she can trust. That's the lesson of the Texbot battle back in season 10, and of "Great Destroyers" in season 13. She is stronger with friends at her side.

That the finale picked up that thread and delivered was a highlight of this episode to me.

And honestly... I think it was a strong decision to follow through on Wash getting re-shot. That doesn't mean I'm confident about how Wash is going to be written in future seasons (because uh, I'm not, especially without knowing who's going to be writing them) but both as a story decision and in terms of writing a character with a disability I don't think it's a bad choice to follow through with it and have the characters resolve to handle it together, versus just erasing it.

I'm glad Lopez is alive, and I liked the way they brought him back!

It sounds as though Donut is going off to do his own thing for a while, which is unfortunate because we just got the team back together at long last, but I suspect that's probably about voice actor availability more than anything else, and we're setting up an in-universe reason for his possible absence next season—better than the alternative, as Donut just being forgotten would be particularly bad after all this.

It is kind of a shame we didn't see Huggins again. We know she's alive, but she did just kind of disappear into the plot and never return, so that's too bad. Nor did the Reds and Blues get a face-to-face resolution with the Cosmic Powers, though we did at least get to see them.

Ending with the whole gang at the hospital on Chorus getting news about Wash was about as emotionally satisfying an ending as I could imagine for this arc, and I'm happy with that—and happier still that they apparently all returned to Chorus together, instead of splitting up.

Plot-wise, however, that does raise... questions.

Because if Huggins warned the Cosmic Powers of Chrovos' plan to escape before it ever happened, and Donut didn't get zapped by Loco's machine, and they all returned to Chorus together... then they changed the timeline.

And since this change will prevent them from ever receiving the time guns and time traveling, this isn't a closed loop. By the established rules of time travel, this is just as much a paradox as saving Wash. If season 16 never happens, then Huggins can't know about the plan and warn the Cosmic Powers. Maybe the Reds and Blues having become unstuck in time and able to freely traverse the Everwhen means that now they can make changes without consequence where before they couldn't, but if that's true then they should have been able to save Wash... I don't fucking know, this plot was, is, and remains dumb as rocks.

I mean this season does literally undo all of season 16, so I supposed I should appreciate that even if it doesn't make much sense.

But I said from the start I wasn't here for the plot this season. We got some emotional resolution and I can live with that.

I still think the best thing for Red vs. Blue would be to bring the show to a close. This is as good a stopping point as we're probably going to get at this point, or they could do another anthology season and then end it (and there would be something poetic about 19 seasons, as the first season was 19 episodes long). I'm not holding my breath, but that would be my preference.

Either way, I'm glad it's finished and I'm looking forward to a good old Off Season—no stress about New Canon and new writers, just chilling and writing fic, and probably returning to my happy place of "RvB ends at 13 and everyone stays on Chorus."

Looking damn forward to that.

[calliecat93]

RvB17 Episode 12 (Season Finale): Theogeny

We did it, everyone! We made it to the finale! Woohoo!  It still sucks that it’s only 12 episodes, but hey we made it!

It has been one Hell of a ride, full of highs and full of lows. I loved things like Donut getting character development, and hated things like how confusing the time travel shit is. I’m not going to talk about those here though. All of that will be saved for my Season Review, which should be up later today or tomorrow. So stay tuned for that cause it is looooong! For now though, we need to unpack this finale because Lord knows how they’re going to resolve all of this in just one episode. So without further ado, let’s dive right into the grand finale of Red vs Blue: Singularity.

Overview

We begin with Grif still being pushed through drills, continuously shot at until the coach knocks him over the ledge. Fortunately, before he can meet Lopez’s fate, he’s saved by Donut who kills the Labyrinth's Avatar and frees Grif from his nightmare. Chrovos succeeded in sending Donut and Doc in, and they are unaffected because… ugh… because plot! Okay, maybe it’s because they haven’t seen the Avatar yet, IDK. Anyways, once Grif understands what’s going on, he immediately becomes concerned about where his sister is. He runs off to find her, which Donut thinks that splitting up is good and Doc is left alone. Chrovos encourages him to unleash O’Malley, which he is dead against. Nevertheless, he goes forward.

Doc finds himself in Wash’s nightmare, where O’Malley starts to take over. He’s about to do what O’Malley does, but Doc tries to reign him in. The two argue, O’Malley telling Doc that without him, he is nothing and no one likes him and all that stuff. Doc’s response? That if he sucks, then O’Malley also sucks. He finally takes control, essentially becoming both himself and O’Malley and he rushes forward. Wash his prepping his gun, ready to avenge his dead friends… just in time to see that Doc has already done the job. Yes everyone, Doc got violent willingly AND now has full control over his O’Malley half. Doc has become a badass.

We now cut back to Sister, with her and Grif’s house now set ablaze. Grif runs in, asking why Kai is seeing their home. Sister reveals that it got burnt down. She didn’t start it and their mom is okay (but in a trailer park), but it happened and since Sister didn’t replace a smoke alarm, it couldn’t be saved. Grif… is pretty damn pissed, but Sister counters about how Grif left her and their mom. Grif counters that he had been drafted and starts yelling at her for allowing this to happen… before being knocked out by the real Grif. Yep, that was just The Labryinth, not the real deal. Sister is understandably confused as Grif explains what’s actually going on to her. Still, Sister feels terrible for the house burning down… but Grif isn’t upset at her nor does he blame her.

It is at this point that Grif comes clean about something. So you all know the draft story? The one that was said to be canon for all of these years? As it turns out, Grif had lied about it. He wasn’t drafted, he had enlisted just like he said he did back in the first episode and last season. Why? He had been tired of his life. He was tired of his circus performer mom and the lifestyle due to it, tired of having to take care of a younger sister, and he wanted to have more structure than what all of that and college could give him. In other words, he ran away from his problems and as a result, ran away from his own family. He hadn’t meant to, but he did and he had heard about the fire, but he said nothing because he couldn’t face Sister about it out of guilt. But he’s willing to talk about it now, whenever Sister wants too, if she’ll forgive him. Sister, while tearful, forgives him as Grif shoots his copy, ending the nightmare.

Soon, everyone else is freed. Wash and Doc save Sarge just as he’s being sent out to die. Sister and Grif go to save Simmons, Grif telling Sister that they keep whatever he’s seeing private. Simmons vision… is so terribly done and utter bullcrap that I refuse to talk about it in the overview. But he’s freed. Donut finds Tucker, who… seems fine and snapped out of it himself. That is until Donut sees his discarded sword on the ground and asks him to pick it up. After all, only Tucker can turn it on. The others arrive, Doc shooting the fake Tucker down. The real Tucker soon emerges, having passed out from a panic attack. Everyone regroups, and only Caboose and Carolina are left. They don’t have to search for Caboose though, he’s already freed. Well, it’s been proven that alien AI can't affect him, so alrighty. That leaves only Carolina.

As before, Carolina is still facing her past self who is saying that if her mom and dad were already dead and her efforts worthless, then that means that she is already dead. It’s beating Carolina down… until she sees Wash and the others. This is all that’s needed to make Carolina realize that she’s just speaking to a warped reflection, and she’s not going to let her stay int he way. Thus we get our one and only fight scene in the season... and it is badass. Kinda hard to review fight scenes, but trust me, it is awesome. It ends with Carolina being knocked down… but she still wins. The others surround past!Carolina, aiming their weapons at her as Wash supports the current Carolina. The Carolina who found a new family, found something worth fighting for instead of just herself, and how any one of them can end her past self with just the pull of a trigger.

The illusion dissolves, and the past!Carolina reveals their true form as the Avatar of the Labryinth. He is trying to do his job of not letting Chrovos be set free, so Donut reveals that they’re there to keep her in and if they were, he’d have done it while in the prison room. The Avatar thinks over this, just as Genkins arrives. But the Reds and Blues seem to be gone, but the Avatar has the golf club. Avatar questions Genkins intentions as the only one of his kin around that the golf club would work on is Chrovos. He puts two and two together and starts to pound Genkins, even breaking his holographic form. Worst, the Reds and Blues reappear, all with golf clubs. Genkins is mortified… before finally realizing how there can't be more than one and that he is being affected by The Labyrinth now.

Genkins knocks Avatar into the Black Hole, ending the vision. But he is at his limit. No matter what he’s tried, the Reds and Blues won’t die or stay down. It doens’t help when Dontu says that Lopez died… but Genkins says that cant be because he’d have felt it. It makes Donut realize that Lopez instead was looped back to the beginning of time, just like Huggins. And that’s a major revelation for Genkins, realizing that Huggins was how the Reds and Blues kept finding him. But this also gives him a new idea: to go back to the beginning of time and make it so that he can wipe out the Reds and Blues form existence. He leaps into the Black Hole, Donut stopping the others from intervening.

As it turns out, this was Donut’s plan and the Avatar reappears, complimenting him on it. So what happened? Well, Genkins succeeded in going back to the beginning of time and becoming a God. He became Chrovos… literally. He created the Cosmic Powers, became more corrupt, and he became the true Chrovos. But as a result, his kin turned on him, used the golf club and Hammer on him, and is how we got to where we are now. The present Chrovos is informed of this, and all things considered, she’s unhappy but takes it well overall. As such, Chrovos’ plan ultimately failed, and there is only one paradox remaining: Wash’s injury. Wash accepts it and is ready… but asks for the others to be there, so that he won’t be alone. They all go through the Everwhen as Chrovos watches the final crack disappear, ensuring that she is trapped forever.

We cut to the hospital, where Doc confirms that Wash is stable and will be okay, but he does indeed still have brain damage. The timeline is restored with seemingly everything from S16 having never happened. They can’t see him quite yet, but this time they can properly be there for him for these next few months. Grif suggests that they get pizza, which they get on him about but honestly I’m on his side. Donut opts out though, deciding that he wants to be on his own for a while and do some traveling. The season ends with them realizing that Lopez is gone… but that he had been sent back to the beginning of time, so he’s alive. And indeed, he shows u alive and well and has many things to tell… too bad that they can't understand him~

And thus, this episode along with Season 17, comes to a close.

Review

Fuck man, just…. Fuck. Where do I even begin with this?

So overall, decent finale. It felt a lot less cinematic and dramatic than the finale last year, but it still did all the things that a finale needed to do. It wrapped all the elements of the episode and the season and gave a bit of an abrupt, but fitting conclusion. It also leaves a LOT open for future writers. Wash having to deal with his brain damage, the others adjusting to the change, Donut going off on his own, the Cosmic Powers are still around, and even Chrovos can come back in the future. It ended things, but leaves plenty of room for the future, so that’s good.

There was a lot that I liked here. The best scene was Grif and Sister’s talk. It kinda retcons Grif’s draft story, but honestly… I am perfectly fine with that because this works so well. The two clearly love each other, but they’ve also always kinda felt distant and awkward. This explains it. Sister felt guilty for the fire, Grif felt guilty for leaving, and neither one knew how to address it until The Labryinth forced them to. With how badly I felt they dropped the ball with Grif, getting this moment was very nice and it does work around to his character arc of finally owning up to his problems and dealing with them instead of running from them. It also helps Sister be a more three-dimensional character and completes her shift from a last-second addition there for sex jokes to a true member of the cast. The moment was so well directed, written, and Geoff and Becca’s performances were as perfect as they were heartbreaking. I really loved this moment.

There was ome other good stuff too. Carolina vs Carolina, while not as creative as last year’s finale fight, was super badass and a perfect way to let Carolina bury the past for good… hopefully. Cause the ‘Carolina is guilty’ arcs are getting repetitive at this point. Genkins actually being Chrovos is a confusing mindfuck, but it kinda fits as a Hoist by His Own Petard story and certianly not what I was expecting. Even when he went back to the beginning, he still ultimately failed to defeat the Reds and Blues and sealed his own defeat. I guess that present Chrovos was imprisoned for so long that she forgot about all of that… which makes sense considering how long she was imprisoned. I’m pretty much okay with the twist, even if it was a mindscrew. And I am glad that they didn’t chicken out of keeping Wash brain damaged. It sucks, but it just feels wrong to do away with that because it’s not how it works It’s part of his character now, and now he has to live with it. But he won’t be alone. He’s proven that he can handle a lot of bullshit, and this time he’s ready for it. I’m proud of him.

It wasn't all perfect, mind you. The reveal was still a confusing mindfuck and essentially retconned S16 out fo existence. I guess they all still have their memories, but I just don’t like that… plus it means that Grif never got a sword. Hey guys, fix that next season, please. Oh and Simmons nightmare was complete and utter bullshit and I hated it. At least Grif’s despite being mostly a joke you could kinda fit it for his character and he got his scene with Sister. But how does losing his penis to aliens enhance Simmons character in any way? Yeah no,t hat was terrible and I really, really hope that Simmons is given a better storyline next season. Maybe even let him be the hero next season since he’s never really gotten the chance. Just saying. Also, the ending was kind of abrupt, but they still wrapped up the important bits, so I’m okay with that.

Is it the best finale? No. S13 and 16 were gonna be pretty damn hard to beat though. I’d say it’s average but does its job well enough. And my anger about Simmons aside, I really enjoyed the finale. It also really does a great job at concluding Donut’s arc. There isn’t really a moment of them acknowledging that DOnut did well, which is a tad annoying, but he still proved to the viewers what he was capable of. He saved the universe and in a damn pretty clever way. Him leaving is a bummer, but he deserves it and I’m sure that he’ll come back. Very least, he feels accepted back into the group and I don’t blame him for wanting some space after everything. Overall, I’m super proud of Donut and whoever is in charge of writing is gonna have to keep it up. No more of relegating him to just the innuendo guy people… but a few are okay! DOn’t want to throw it out completely XD

Final Thoughts

As I said, decent enough finale with a few things I didn’t care for, but it overall wrapped things up. I’ll have more details about my thoughts on the season as a whole in my season review… which is currently 11 pages long and not done yet, so I’ll have to half it. But both parts should be up by tonight. But either way, I had so much fun reviewing the season as well as watching it. I will sure as Hell be back to do S18, and of course, I’ll be doing RWBY V7 when that starts. I’m also considering doing dome more RvB Commentary Masterposts since people seemed to like the S16 one (which one for S17 will be done when the DVD is out) and I’ll be writing another masterpost on the RvB panel at RTX. I have to watch it on a stream since I can't go (/SOBS/) but be on the lookout for it.

Well… as a wise pig once said, that’s all folks! thank you for reading, and I’ll see you all for my Season Review! Hope you’ll enjoy~!

[allimariexf]

chapter 1: This Fortress (Around Your Heart)

Before he could make out the words coming from the other side of the wall, Oliver knew by the pitch of his voice that Danny Brickwell was planning to taunt him.

It wouldn’t be the first torture he’d endured today, but Oliver knew from bitter experience that it would be far worse than the beating he’d taken when he’d been jumped in the cafeteria at lunch.

“Mr. Mayor, I have a newspaper here, and I think you might be interested in the contents.” Brick’s voice took on a sing-songy tone: “‘Inside Star City’s Most Mysterious Marriage: Who is Felicity Smoak? It seems these days everyone has burning questions for the wife of the former mayor, like whether or not she knew her husband was a vigilante, and if she aided him in his lawless crusade. But we want to know more about the woman herself: who was Felicity Smoak before she was Mrs. Green Arrow? ’ You know, Mr. Mayor, you should really check out this article for yourself. It’s got pictures. Or, hmm. Is it former wife, now? I mean, you are locked up for life, and word is she hasn’t come to see you even once. But who can blame her? With an ass like that, she’s probably got ‘em lined up around the block. Fully-functional and available to serve her, you know? Especially after this spread in the Star City Gazette.”

Oliver clenched his fists and focused on his breathing. In. Out. Nothing they said made a difference. They were locked up in here just like he was. They couldn’t touch her.

“Sampson, you seen this?”

“I’m lookin’ at it now, Brick. And I like what I’m seeing. If I’da known women like that go for guys in suits, I maybe I would have gone to business school after all.”

Brickwell laughed harshly. “But that’s exactly what everybody’s wanting to know, my friend. Did she fall for Oliver Queen, or did she fall for the Green Arrow?” He paused. “We got the inside scoop sitting right here. Could call the Gazette and settle it for them, maybe get quoted in the paper. Which was it, Mr. Mayor?”

He waited briefly but of course Oliver remained silent, breathing, trying to tune out their voices. In. Out.

Unconcerned, Brickwell continued his musing. “For all we know, she has a thing for bad boys. Maybe working with the vigilante brought out her wild side. It says in here she started as a nobody at Mr. Queen’s company, and our boy Oliver here picked her out and made her his assistant.” He paused, letting the word accrue layers of meaning. “I gotta give it to you, Mr. Mayor. I may not like you, but I can appreciate that you’ve got a real eye for...talent. They have a picture here of your girl from way back, mousy as anything and dressed like my gran. Most guys wouldn’t look at her twice. But you scooped her right up, didn’t you? Polished her up. Taught her how to dress, teased out her assets.”

Fists clenched. Breathing in. Breathing out.

“Didn’t even take a year, judging by the date on this other photo. You really made her shine. Still, I gotta say. She’s attractive and all, I'd definitely fuck her, but she’s not hot enough to marry, I wouldn’t think. Not wife material based on looks alone. And we all know you like yourself a tall, leggy brunette, Mr. Mayor. It’s enough to make me wonder: what other kind of talents does she have?”

Oliver felt himself go cold as the air seemed to leave his body. Nothing mattered. Nothing they said mattered. They were thugs.

read the rest on Ao3...! (or under the cut, but be warned: rating M, tw: mild psychological torture through sexual objectification of women)

Brick was still speaking. “What does she have to offer that would make her worth keeping around? I’m looking here at this picture, and I think I have a guess. Just look at those lips. I bet that mouth is a whole other level of talent, am I right? Soft, luscious pink lips. I bet she can swallow a whole dick with that mouth. Makes me hard just thinking about it. Thinking about your wife, Mr. Mayor, with her soft lips wrapped around my dick. Sounds like a good way to spend the evening. Sampson, don’t you agree?”

“Oh yeah, Brick. They’ve been putting out pictures of Felicity Smoak every day for months, and I have gotten a lot of mileage out of those lips and that ass. I wonder what it’s going to be tonight? I think last night I had her on her knees in front of me, looking up at me with those glasses on. Hey, Green Arrow, do you prefer her with the glasses on or without them? Me, I think I prefer her with them. That naughty teacher look, you know? Makes it extra sweet when she’s on her knees.”

Oliver’s fingernails were digging into his palms, and he had abandoned efforts to calm his erratic breathing. He tried to think about the physical pain from being jumped by four prisoners earlier that day. The feeling of having his windpipe crushed, the shock of a knee to the kidney. Anything to block out their words.

Brick was still speaking. “I know what you mean. It’s those goody-goody ones with the glasses that are always really kinky in the sack. Care to weigh in, Mr. Mayor? Your thoughts would be really helpful here. I’m assuming you know all about Felicity Smoak’s kinks.”

No. No. No. No.

“I bet you think about them all the time. Wrapping your hand around your dick as you imagine yourself buried in that ass, just like the rest of us. Too bad you’re not gonna fuck her any sooner than the rest of us, either. It must be torture, right? Knowing you had it so good. You were the mayor, everyone looked up to you, everyone wanted to be you, but best of all, you could fuck that tight ass any time you wanted, but what did you do instead? Like a fool, you dressed up in tights and went out like Robin Hood. Fucked your life right up, didn’t you? And now all you got for company is me and Sampson, and no one to suck your dick, except maybe you could ride with Bubbles if you ask real nice. Maybe he’ll even let you fuck him in the ass, though I doubt anything could compare to the tight, round caboose on your girl.”

Oliver was silent. His palms were bleeding, his breathing was shallow, and as much as he could withstand torture, he couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down his face.

* * * * * * * * *

Felicity pushed through the front door of the safe-house, shaking rainwater off her umbrella. “William?” She flinched at the slightly panicked tone of voice that had somehow become habitual. “You home?” She turned around and began locking the complicated series of bolts on the front door.

“Yeah, I’m in here, Felicity!”

At the sound of his voice, something inside her relaxed. She stepped further into the little house, setting a bag of fast food on the counter and picking up her tablet to activate the security measures she’d installed around the perimeter of the property. “Yasuko’s Teriyaki!”

“Coming!”

She pulled several containers out the paper bag before starting up her system of computers that took up most of the kitchen table. William appeared at her shoulder and she whirled on the spot and grabbed him in a tight hug.

“Okay, okay.” But he didn’t really mind, and Felicity knew it.

“How was school? Did Mrs. Marshall give a pop quiz?” She turned back to her computers.

“Yup.”

“Ugh.” She was listening, but she was also concentrating on defining parameters on her newest search.

“Felicity?

“Hummm?”

“You want me to maybe get some plates and silverware, set the table?”

Something in his hesitant tone made her look up. “Oh William, it’s just us. There’s no need for -” she broke off when his face fell. She felt like she’d been punched in the stomach “Right. I mean, yeah, it’s always just us, but that doesn’t mean we have to live like animals.” She pressed out a laugh so he would hear her words as a casual joke, and not as a desperate attempt to cover up her feelings of inadequacy. She was just not the parent he deserved. Oliver turned every meal into a gourmet experience, while here she was on a first-name basis with every fast-food joint within a ten-mile radius. But Oliver was not here, because Oliver had made a decision and the rest of them had to live with it. Taking a deep breath, she pushed Oliver out of her mind so she could be present for her step-son. “Well hey, at least it’s not leftover diner food, right?”

William smiled back as he slid a plate in front of her. “I got an A-.”

Felicity scrunched her nose at him. Then caught herself and unscrunched it with widened eyes. “An A- is great! Fantastic! Especially in World History, I mean yuck. Not my favorite subject.”

William laughed, letting her off the hook. “No, it was stupid. It should have been an A. There was this dumb trick question.”

“Yeah, well I thought - I mean, you studied your butt off on that chapter, that’s all I’m saying.” She frowned again. Obviously William was brilliant, and she got a little defensive when teachers failed to recognize it.

“So, how was work?”

“Work…. That is not work. It is a soul-crushing exercise in misery that doesn’t even offer health and dental.” She smiled at the remembered words, despite herself. They made her think of Oliver’s nervous, happy smile, and she felt something twist inside her. William’s sustained silence jerked her out of the memory. He was looking at her in bewilderment and a little concern. “Haha, sorry! Inside...joke. Work was fine. Except for the part where I have to actually talk to people.” Felicity had found that William was too emotionally intuitive for her to convincingly lie to him, which was a good thing, really, because the prospect of putting on a brave face in the wake of their situation was really more than she could handle. So she let him in, mostly, though she tried her hardest to let humor outweigh bitterness whenever possible. And they had quickly become much closer because of her willingness to be honest with him.

“Too bad you can’t make a program to take their orders for them.”

Felicity considered. “Well, I probably could. But that wouldn’t really eliminate the need to talk to them, unless I also programmed, like, a robot to then bring them their orders. Which would be kinda cool, except then I wouldn’t really have a job, so I’d just have to find another job, and I’d probably have to talk to people there.” She gave him a dissatisfied look. “I don’t think there’s a way I can program my way out of it.”

William shot her an affectionate look that went straight to her heart, and not just because it reminded her so much of Oliver. “I think you could figure something out, if you really needed to.”

Felicity looked down at her plate to hide the sudden wetness in her eyes. She reached out and rumpled his hair. “Eat your chicken, kiddo.”

* * * * * * * * *

Hours after William had gone to bed, Felicity was deeply engrossed in her second job. Her real work: searching for Ricardo Diaz, and doing whatever she could to stop his work in Star City.

Because despite the sacrifice Oliver had made, Ricardo Diaz was still alive and free and very much operating within Star City. And Star City was suffering. It wasn’t just a dip in the local economy, or an uptick crime, or a pervasive feeling of low morale, though those were all real and present problems. Nor was it only the quasi-martial law that had become necessary in order to fill the power vacuum left behind once Diaz’s accomplices had been arrested, though the temporary municipal government did inspire considerable paranoia. It wasn’t even the fact that those who could afford to leave the city were doing so in droves. It was that people were disappearing, from all walks of life. And no one, not even the FBI, could seem to stop it. Or even explain it.

But it wasn’t only the FBI who was looking into crime around the city. A group calling themselves “The Outlaws” had arisen in the wake of Oliver’s arrest, and, as their name suggested, they were seeking justice outside of the law.

It turned out that, as much as the people of Star City hated to be made to look like fools by having elected a vigilante as mayor, they hated surrendering their city to criminals even more. So while public opinion of Oliver remained starkly divided, he had some extreme admirers among his fans, and The Outlaws practically revered him. It really wasn’t healthy, but Felicity figured she was hardly in a position to judge anyone else’s obsession with Oliver Queen.

So she had been helping them. Quietly, in small ways. Hacking into their system, improving their tools, refining their searches. Sometimes helping them along by pointing them in the right direction, but more often than not by simply doing their work for them, better, faster. She had personally prevented two abductions, at least one attempted assassination, and countless instances of cyber crime. And better, she was helping them establish connections between the crimes. By analyzing the data they’d been compiling over the past 5 months, she already had a good idea of which crimes were likely to be connected to Diaz, and which were random.

She was also learning about some disturbing new tricks Diaz seemed to have picked up in the past few months. But she hadn’t managed to locate him. Not yet.

The harsh vibration of her phone against the kitchen table shook Felicity out of her zone. She looked at the display and shut off the alarm she had set for 2:30 AM. Time for bed.

* * * * * * * * *

The next morning, Felicity was cleaning up the kitchen after bringing William to school. She had work at noon, but before then she had a few hours to herself.

Normally she tried to keep her brain occupied on immediate things: being present for William, preventing crime in Star City, avoiding awkward moments at the diner, like spilling coffee on patrons or accidentally insulting them in some way. The less time she gave herself to think, the less time she spent in dark spirals of anger, panic, and sorrow.

But today, she gave in to the ever-present desire to just think about him. To remember the sound of his voice, the way he said her name. To remember the expression in his eyes when he looked at her. That look that was reserved for her alone, that was never absent regardless of whether he was happy, anxious, ecstatic, or hurt. It pained her, physically, to think about him, because every thought and memory was burdened with her anger and disappointment in him, but she did it gladly because more than anything she just she missed him. It was so rare that she allowed herself to really think about him, imagine him, that she even missed the idea of him. So she closed her eyes and remembered his lips: against her cheek, her forehead, her neck, under her jaw. Exhaling against her lips.

It was as she stood there lost in remembered kisses that several things happened at once: her tablet lit up next to her on the kitchen counter, and an alarm sounded from several speakers positioned around the house. She instantly knew her computers were contacting 911 with a pre-recorded distress call even as she heard the sound of shattering glass.

In the months since going underground, Felicity hadn’t completely reverted to her pre-Oliver hacktivist days. For one thing, her hair was pink, not black. For another, she had taken up self-defense training in earnest, at John’s insistence. During their Team Arrow days, he had always offered to train her, but she had never been more than a half-hearted student, mainly because she had more important things to concentrate on, and she never had any doubt that John and Oliver would both willingly and capably look after her in those rare instances when she was faced with a significant physical threat. But when she found herself the sole parent of an innocent, trusting, amazing kid like William, she realized she needed to be as prepared as possible on all fronts. And that meant being able to defend herself, and him, bodily if necessary.

So when the large, terrifying-looking dude came charging at her with a gun, Felicity was fairly certain from his approach that he didn’t want to kill her, just grab her and possibly knock her out. She used that to her advantage, moving toward him instead of away, grabbing the first thing that came to hand: her morning’s leftover coffee. In his surprise, she managed to knock the gun out of his hand.

Felicity found herself babbling as a way to fight through her panic. “I’ll have you know,” she dodged a punch and tried to squeeze past him out of the confines of the kitchen, “that I’ve already called 911 and if I don’t punch in a verification code -” the man grabbed her by the hair and clawed viciously at her head, trying to twist her into his grip. Screaming, she jabbed him with an elbow and stomped his instep, reaching for a heavy frying pan. “My friends in high places will be getting a prerecorded message that contains a lot of detailed information -” she had the frying pan, but he punched her right in the face, and the shock left her wide open. He immediately tackled her to the ground. She hit the floor hard, narrowly avoiding getting the wind knocked out of her. She kicked backwards with her feet and attempted to scramble away. “Not to mention the perimeter alarms that are set to go off any second now!” The large man was silent except for his heavy breathing and the occasional grunt, and Felicity felt the panic taking over as he grabbed her around the ankles and began to haul her back. She fought to crawl forward, not caring that she was scraping through shattered glass, not considering the futility of gaining a few feet of distance from him when he obviously outweighed her by 100 pounds or more. Her throat was raw but she kept shouting, and kicking, and somehow her feet managed to land a blow. In the sudden absence of restraint, instinct took over. She spun around, legs and thighs grinding through shards of glass, and hit him over the head with her frying pan. And then she hit him again to be sure.

The blood was pounding loudly in her ears, and distantly she heard her perimeter alarms blaring. The police would be here in less than a minute, probably, and she suddenly knew she didn’t want to be here when they arrived.

Within seconds of reaching her decision, she had initiated a data wipe protocol on her non-portable hardware, grabbed her and William’s emergency bags including all her portable tech, and was in her car on the way to pick up William. The little blue bungalow she drove away from contained not a single trace of data that would lead back to their real identities.