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"Well guess what psycho? I don't take orders from you anymore!"
Tucker really does not want to go on another suicide mission, but considering he wants to get shot point-blank in the chest by a psycho freelancer even less, his options are looking quite limited.
From the corner of his eye Tucker sees Washington cross the room to Carolina and Chruch's side, and he can't help but feel a little disappointed. Sure the guy was a freelancer, and he killed Donut, and he could be a bit off an ass sometimes, but as far as the standards for Blue team go Wash had been doing pretty well, and Tucker was getting used to having him around: at least before agent Carolina showed up.
She's raises her gun to his chest. No one is doing anything. "Well, what about now?"
But Washington's side of choice was inevitable, wasnt it? Chruch's words rattle briefly in Tucker's head as Wash reaches Carolina.
"We can't trust Washington while Carolina's around."
But no. Fuck that, right? Because Church is the one being a major asshole right now and Washington is pointing his pistol as the back of Carolina's head. Tucker almost cheers but thinks better of ruining the moment. Despite the armour, there's a noticeable shift in Carolina's stance, as if she can feel her control of the situation run through her fingers like sand; as if she's not sure if her ex-teammate will take the shot or not.
"Don't do that."
"Wash. What are you doing?"
Her words are careful, like she wants the other agent to know this is a line he's drawing and crossing in one swift motion.
"Protecting my friends. Now, lower the weapon."
His reply is dangerous; a dark edge curling around them that almost hides how rusty the word 'friends' sounds in his mouth. But Carolina has her answer now. She asks out loud anyway;
"You're siding with them?"
Friends with a freelancer? Tucker thinks he could get used to that. It might be nice to have someone with a body count higher than two on their team (Bow chica bow wow).
Church decides it's time to give his two cents to the situation. "Wash, I don't understand! We found the director! We can make him pay!This. Is. What. We. Wanted."
"All I want is for you to leave." Wash lowers the gun, but his finger still sits over the trigger. The message is clear: leave them alone, and I won't shoot. "I've been responsible for enough of their problems in the past, and I'll be damned before I let you cause anymore."
From what little Tucker knows about the director, the guy is seriously bad news and it seems that anybody that was involved in project freelancer worth their salt would either die for him or drop everything to end him, and Tucker had the impression Washington fell surly on the latter side until this afternoon.
One the one hand maybe Washington is just sick of the project and wants, for once, to let it go. But Tucker dares to hope that Wash does want to kill the director as badly as the other two, and that it's just a heart that keeps him from abandoning the simtroopers to this impossible plan.
"So that's it? You're just gonna turn your back on us?" Church says as Washington does indeed turn and walk back to the other side of the room; not the best strategic point it Tucker's being honest, but the symbolism is what's important here.
"Epsilon, I know-"
"No! No, you're right, I guess I shoulda seen that one coming. It's not exactly like you're knew to the concept, is it?"
Sarge. "That's a little harsh."
Church takes the opportunity and turns to the reds and blues in turn, his ire on Wash momentarily forgotten. "You guys? After all the shit you put me through? I really thought at least you would have my back."
The words sting because Tucker doesn't know how to feel about them, so for now he takes the easy route and stuffs them all into his slowly growing anger.
Grif. "Us? What the hell did we do?"
And Church's avatar tints red, "You shot me through the head", and the holographic projection grows in size as his fury burns into his words, "you put a bomb in my gut, you killed me with my own damn tank, and that's just how we met!"
Ah, Tucker finds the feeling he couldn't describe. It's an awful tincture of panic and guilt and righteous anger that's right now leaning in panic as Church's image stands taller than the rest of their heights combined. "Church calm down! What's your problem?"
As soon as the words leave his mouth Tucker knows some sort of catalyst has gone off.
"You're my problem! You've always been my problem! Each and every one of you is just a problem that I have to deal with on a daily basis!"
The last of Chruch's words echo and die and Tucker looks down at the floor. He can't- he didn't think Church really-
Well. Whatever Tucker thought, the reality of what Church sees in all of them, red and blues alike, is out in the open.
And Tucker is the first to walk away.
--
"Guys..." Church watches Tucker leave, watches Sarge nod to his team and the three of them go.
He tries again, "Guys-" but no one stops and soon it's only Caboose left out of the simtroopers, and Washington stands a little ways behind; like he's still worried Church or Carolina would do something, like he's protecting everyone from Church. It hurts just to see it happen, but judging by the stunt he just pulled it hurts more to know the act is justified.
"Wait a minute. Caboose?" He hates the desperation that breaks the very end of the question, just enough that they can hear how pathetic this whole charade is. Who insults people like that and expects them to stay?
But he didn't mean it. But he did mean it.
Caboose lingers, and Church wishes he could see the rookie's face, maybe glean a little of what he's thinking. It's not the first time Church has wanted this, but it's for an entirely new reason. He wants to know if Caboose will-
He doesn't know how Caboose manages it, to put so much hurt and betrayal in the simple act of walking away. It's probably the few steps back before he turns around that does it. Like there's still some part of him that wants to stay by Church's side, but it's too small, now, to do anything more than make leaving so painful.
Carolina's words pull him back out of his head.
"Forget it Church, we don't need them."
And she's right. And she's wrong. Even as an AI, a goddamned computer program, he can't figure it out.
That's the price of meta-stage rampancy: you become a living thing, more than a machine. He's no longer just a fragment of some greater whole, and his decisions are his own.
They're just so hard to make.
Washington just has to get in the last word on his way out. "I don't know what's gotten into you Carolina, but you better figure out the difference between your enemies and your friends."
Church has the feeling he could do with trying that, too.
But later. Right now, there are more important things to do.
He has to think of the mission.