He was a broken man.
Had been since the beginning of project freelancer.
It got worse after the implantation of the Epsilon AI.
Nothing was right back then.
His opinions, thoughts, and memories were scattered along the capsule of his brain; jumbled together past the point of disentanglement.
His reality and his nightmares blended together until he could no longer tell the difference between the two.
He was David Washington, property of Project Freelancer.
He was a killer and a soldier.
He worked alongside Agent M-
Nope, scratch that.
He worked alongside the Meta.
He did selfish things for his freedom, even though he had no idea what to do with it if he did obtain it, and one thing was fact.
He was a monster.
But then, something remarkable happened.
He met the Reds and Blues.
And they helped him home.
Brought him out of his dark world and taught him how to love and maybe, just maybe, how to be loved.
They were his saviors and guidance.
They taught him patience and laughter and how to work together.
That’s when he became Wash, leader of Blue team.
It took so much pain and struggle to get him to that point.
And was it worth it?
The answer would always be yes.
“Don’t rush me. I’m being as careful as I can.”
Washington was about to intersect before he paused and considered the circumstances.
He’d much rather Tucker be careful then quick.
“Ok, ok.” He rationalized. “Just don’t hurt her.”
He could hear Tucker scoff from under the porch. “How do you even know it’s a girl?” He hissed before mumbling something Wash didn’t hear but could only assume was along the lines of ‘know it all hard ass’
Wash rolled his eyes. “Because I was a vet.”
Tucker didn’t respond and kept still and for a moment Wash was unsure if everything was ok.
Maybe their was a snake or raccoon and he fucked up asking Tucker to go down there.
A quiet purr was heard followed by quick rustling and next thing Wash knew; Tucker was crawling out, out of breath, twigs and leaves sticking to his clothes as he rushed out and leaned against the wooden frame with a huff.
“I’m not doing it.” He stated seriously.
Wash frowned. He understood where his boyfriend was coming from, but he was still disappointed. “Come on, you haven’t even tried yet.”
Tucker whined and curled his head into his knees. “Waaaaash.” He complained before lifting his head up to look at him. “I hate cats.”
“What are you dirty blues up to?!” Sarge growled from his front porch, catching the attention of both Wash and Tucker.
Donut was out of the same house a second later, playfully swatting Sarge on the arm. “Sarge, be nice.” He continued his march down the porch stairs and headed towards Tucker and Wash, leaving Sarge to follow.
“There’s a rodent under the porch.” Tucker stated, giving a weak glare to Wash.
Washington returned the look before looking towards Donut. “A kitten.” He corrected. “There’s a kitten under the porch.”
Donut smiled. “Ooo, I wanna see!” He gushed, kneeling down in front of the porch and arching his head under to get a better look.
“Donut!” Sarge barked. “Get your head out from under there! You have no idea what the blues are planning. There could be killer rats or radioactive rats or-“
“There’s no killer rats.” Wash interrupted. “And our only plan was to have Tucker crawl under and get her out, I think she’s stuck.”
Tucker pouted. “Why can’t you do it?” He grumbled.
“Because I won’t fit.”
“You’re too damn tall.”
Wash smirked. “Not my fault your so short.”
Tucker was about to argue back when Donut shot up. “I’ll do it!” He said quickly as he began climbing under.
It didn’t take long for Donut to untangle the kitten from wherever it was or for Wash to be proven right that it was a girl -even after multiple dejections from Sarge- and soon everyone, including Grif and Simmons from next door, who had come outside to see what all the commotion was, had crowded around the small creature. That was everyone, but Tucker.
“Dibs.” Grif said quickly.
“You can’t call dibs.” Wash
“I warned my brother that not everyone liked his practical jokes.”
Simmons paused and just stared at her.
“What?” He questioned once again.
Sister shrugged. “He’s not even that funny.” She explained. “Sure, he got you to squirm a little, but I could have done better than that.”
Was she implying that the bullshit he just went through was all part of some elaborate prank?
Simmons didn’t even validate her with a response, just gave her a weak glare as she took another swing of beer.
She raised her brow around the bottle and gave out an amused chuckle as she lowered it from her lips. “Holy shit!” She gushed. “He was being serious!”
Simmons”s face instantly turned red, at least in the places where there was still human flesh. “No!” He degraded quickly. “You’re right. It was a joke. He was just joking.” He said quickly, tripping over his own words.
Kaikaina just smiled childishly. “You sure?” She asked, drawing out the word with an immature tone.
Simmons paused, face beet red as he recalled the moment when Grif had approached him.
He didn’t seem like he was joking.
He seemed like he was being serious, which was odd because Grif was never serious.
But this time, there was no joke about it.
He said what he said and meant every word.
“You- he didn’t-“ Simmons stammered. “Go back to your own base!” He yelped, frustration and confusion rising in his stomach. “Why are you even over here?”
Kai pouted. “Blue base is out of beer.” She whined.
“Get out!”
And that was the end of that conversation.
At least the end of that conversation that he would have with Kai.
He was pretty terrified to have the same discussion with Grif, who he had rudely ran away from earlier that day.
He wasn’t sure how he’d be able to approach him after that.
Apparently he didn’t have to because Grif did the approaching.
“Hey,” The orange soldier said nonchalantly as he approached him. “Sorry to get your panties in a twist.”
Simmons bit his lip. “It’s fine.” He trudged. “I know you were just messing with me.”
Grif paused and looked like he was about to protest before he caught himself. “Yea,” he agreed. “That’s what I was doing, messing with you.”
Simmons let out a sigh of relief, but feeling odd as he basked in slight disappointment. “It’s ok,” He said. “It didn’t affect me at all.”
Grif scoffed. “Sure it didn’t.”
Simmons frowned. “It didn’t.” He reiterated. “Fatass.”
Grif smiled. “Nerd.” He mused, leaving Simmons slightly blushed as he walked away.
It was just a practical joke, right?
Simmons sighed.
No it wasn’t.
“Grif!” He called, causing the orange soldier to turn to face him.
Simmons swallowed the lump in his throat and went for it. “I like you too.”
His life was pretty routine.
He went to school on the weekdays, went out with York and North, his college buddies, on Fridays, went grocery shopping on Saturday and worked in between it all.
Saturday went as normal.
He woke up, got ready had two cups of coffee and headed for the Safeway down the road.
Once at the Safeway, he went straight to produce and began making his way through the aisles grabbing everything he deemed necessary for the new week.
It was only when he got to the frozen section and was approached by a tearful looking toddler did things break routine.
The child could have been no older then 4, Wash observed as the small dark toned kid grappled onto Washington’s legs, one arm around his pant and the other clutching a frozen pizza.
Washington instantly froze, not sure of what to do as the child clutched onto him, sobbing wet splotches into his pants.
When he did act he did so by gently pry I nag the child off of him and kneeled down just low enough to make eye contact.
“Where is your mom?” Wash asked, studying the child who’s sobs had died down to weak sniffles as he clutched the frozen pizza box.
“My daddy,” The child corrected. “I went to get pizza only I can’t find my dad and we can’t even have pizza.”
It was slightly difficult for Wash to make out the child’s words from the lack of vocabulary and all his Zs sounding like Ss, but he eventually was able to decipher it.
“It’s ok,” He consoled uncertainly, having not ever been really good with children, “I’ll help you find your dad.”
The child pouted. “But da pizza.” He whimpered, pitting emphasis on the box in his hands.
“I’ll help you carry it to your dads cart so he can buy it for you.” Wash reasoned.
“But I only have $5.” The child sniffled, opening his fist to reveal a crumpled 5$ bill. “And daddy said we can’t afford to get a treat more than that.”
Wash looked towards the bill and then towards the end of the aisle as a man rushed down.
“Jesus Christ Junior you scared the ever living shit out of me.” The stranger exasperated.
Wash stood up as the man, who he presumed to be his father, took the child’s spare hand.
“Now come on, out that back we gotta get home before Uncle Church starts whining.”
Junior obliged and they began walking away when Wash stopped them.
“Wait,” He called. “I have an extra $10 in my wallet, you can have it to get the pizza.”
Junior smiled and looked up to his dad who looked at Wash wearily. “You don’t have to do that.” He said.
“I want to,” Wash said without hesitation.
Junior beefed as Wash handed him the money.
And seeing his smile made Wash smile.
“I’ll pay you back.” The
“You can pay me back with coffee some other time.”
No matter what he did; he couldn’t make her leave.
He’d spend hours with her in that room.
It wouldn’t be a communal affair either.
He didn’t want her to know he could see her, so he avoided her wandering eyes at all costs. But, it didn’t seem to be working because her fixated gaze didn’t leave.
Maybe she knew something was up. That he could communicate with the other side and that he was able to see and hear her.
But if that was the case, why wasn’t she crowding around him; tormenting him to help her or to ease her own tortured mind.
Why was she just...
Just smiling at him?
It wasn’t a happy smile at first.
When he entered the room an hour ago, she was sobbing in the corner by the old pale curtain. But now, she was seemingly happy, staring at him with somewhat of a pridefulness.
The once wretched little girl who for the undead life of her would not stop crying in the corner was now facing him with a friendly smile.
And he couldn’t make her leave.
Pushing her away mentally was no longer working and ignoring her was becoming too difficult of a task.
But maybe, he wasn’t supposed to push her away.
She wasn’t hurting anyone, was she?
She was just a girl in a room, staring at a boy, who just happened to be able to see her too.
Grif sighed and did something he never thought he’d ever do.
He turned and looked at her.
Looking at them was extremely dangerous.
If you saw and if they knew you saw, then they’d be all over you in seconds.
And without the ability for him to leave the room, he’d be crushed under the mental strain of hoards of them breaking past his mental walls.
The girl tilted her head at him slightly, causing her long brown hair to sashay over her left eye. When she tilted her head back he realized the tears in her eyes gone.
Grif paused, staring at her.
She noticed him.
She knew he could see her.
And despite it all, she left him be.
Instead she turned to look away and began humming a child’s tone as she traced figures into the cushioned carpet.
Grif didn’t know what to say as she continued, only swallowed the lump in his throat as he heard her blissful song.
It sounded so sad, but coming from her mouth it held a certain happy nolstagia to it.
Like he had heard it before.
He didn’t know what to think or question or say or do, so instead he kept his mouth shut as he listened.
Grif almost wanted to thank her for sparing him the emotional exhaustion, he wouldn’t have received the same treatment from any of the others, but right now it felt wrong to do so.
He didn’t want to interrupt her.
So it stayed remotely silent as it was meant to be.
Fin
