Setting the Stage

                                    

                                          
“So how long do you think it’s going to take for Maine to recover?” Wash asked as he, York, and North walked towards the rec room, their armor weighing them down. York and North had taken off their helmets and it took a great deal of coaxing to get Wash to take his off.
They had gotten back from the medical center the week prior, after the mission to extract the Sarcophagus. It had technically been a success but York sure didn’t feel like it was. Maine had been shot in the throat, Carolina had gotten a broken rib, the rest were bruised, and her hatred for Texas increased by a tenfold, York was still hurting from losing his eye, Wash had gotten debris lodged in him from the falling skyscraper, Wyoming was shot. Maine was no longer in critical condition but they were still worried about him.
York shrugged. “I don’t know, but he’s one tough sunova bitch, he’ll pull through.” He mused.
North chuckled. “Not the way I would’ve put it but yeah, what York said."
Wash didn’t look so convinced. “Okay…” He said, after a moment. Everyone knew that Wash and Maine were close friends and that Wash was worried about him, so North and York took it upon themselves (mainly York, North was just dragged into this) to cheer up their buddy.
“Hey did you see the latest Grifball match? It was nuts.” York not so subtly nudged the conversation towards the popular sport. Wash brightened a little and the three of them talked (more like arguing with each other) about their favorite sport.
“Bullshit man, Jackson is the key for them to win.” York threw his hands up and looked at North like he was high.
“Uh huh. Then why has he had a losing streak of late?” North raised a brow.
York sighs and looks at North with disappointment. “I’ve told you, somebody is slipping him something.”
Wash shook his head. “You can’t do that. Apparently the officators heard this rumor and upped security. Besides, the Goldfinch’s are definitely gonna win.”
“You motherfu-” York didn’t get to finish his sentence before they walked into the rec room and spotted Maine draped across the couch, his eyes closed, but he cracked one of them open before closing it when he saw who it was.
“Wha- Maine! What are you doing here? You should be back at Medbay.” Wash sputtered, darting over to Maine and grabbed his arm and tried to pull him off the couch, as if he was going to drag Maine all the way to Medbay.
Maine gave him a flat look as Wash tried and failed to move Maine even an inch off of the couch.
“You won’t be able to move him.” A voice from the shadows said. The figure stepped forward to reveal none other than Agent Texas, in her armor as usual. “Doesn’t want to go back to Med-bay.”
Wash jumped about a foot in the air at Texas’ sudden appearance and looked like he barely was able to hold back a shriek of surprise. “What are you doing here?” Wash asked the other Freelancer cautiously.
“The Director assigned me to watch him since he made his displeasure at staying in the Med-bay… extremely obvious. So now I’m the glorified babysitter.” Texas said with a disgruntled hmph. “Florida and Wyoming went to get him food and Carolina, South, and CT are training right now. Both should be back any minute now.”
York stared at her and then Maine. “Uh huh.” Was all he said.
The door slid open with a hiss and Florida strolled in cheerfully carrying a tray of food from the cafeteria with Wyoming trudging behind him, his arm in a sling and an annoyed look on his face. York always found it funny when Wyoming was annoyed. His mustache got twitchy.