#crunchficc

After the fall of Agent Maine, AKA the Meta, certain investigative measures became imperative. Project Freelancer assets had been scattered and returned to a central point. Freelancers themselves had escaped the grasp of the UNSC and affiliated organizations, and were brought back for interrogation. Exactly what happened needed to be known- and that required thorough questioning of all involved parties.

For the first six, this was a simple matter of question-and-answer. Some embellishment, especially from the red sergeant, happened naturally, and some downplaying as well, such as from Agent Washington. Then the Counselor reached someone who neither embellished nor downplayed, but told the story in such a chaotically different way as to demand further observation.

"Could you repeat that, Private Caboose?"

"I think the Meta could have been a good friend! He had some anger problems but so did Tex and she was a nice lady. She helped me learn how to flirt with the tank!"

"Right." Price jotted this down in an illegible calligraphic scrawl only he could read. "And you say 'Tex' and the Meta shared a similar personality issue in the form of 'anger problems'?"

"Yes! They both had O'Malley!"

"O'Malley?"

"That is the AI who has the scary voice and makes people really strong. I do that without any special voices in my head!"

"You do... What, exactly?"

"I get really mad and get really strong and save the day!"

Price sat back in his armchair, brows drawn together in only the faintest sign of scrutiny as he eyed the giant of a private. Michael J. Caboose was quickly becoming interesting, in the way that Agent Florida and Agent North Dakota had been interesting- unassuming strength, an inner fire concealed behind a lie of a smile. They were Price's favorite sort to study, for their individual method of self-presentation. Agents like South Dakota and Carolina had been exceedingly boring, in that they were exactly what their surface suggested. Caboose had joined a rare group- those that invited Price to study further.

"I see," he said, pulling himself from reverie. "And what inspires this enraged state? Competition? A need for victory?"

"I have to keep my friends safe. They are usually good at doing that themselves, but sometimes they are tired."

"And you believe you can protect them?"

"When they need me to."

"And would you consider yourself... A good soldier?"

Caboose's head tilted to the side for a moment, blue eyes sparkling. "I think I am! I try really hard to take care of my team and stay in shape and I am really good at drill!"

"Drill? As in organized movement?"

"Yes! But we don't do that much. We kind of don't do anything until we have to fight somebody. We should really do more as a team, like bake cookies!"

Price was learning he could repeat a single word and Caboose would unravel more of what went on behind those beaming blues. "Cookies?"

"Yes! I love cookies!" Caboose dropped his voice, hushed with excitement. "Are there cookies here?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Can we get some cookies? We could bake some together."

This caught Price off-guard, though no outward flinch or movement suggested as much. "We as in you and I?"

"Yes! You seem like you could use a cookie."

"We are not here to talk about me."

"Maybe we should! Everyone needs someone to talk to."

Caboose smiled brightly, invitingly, and Price stared at him for a moment. Not even Agent North Dakota, known for being far too caring, had ever dared try to pry into the mind of the counselor. What interest had this private in Price's private mind?

~^~

"And Leonard- don't even get me STARTED on Leonard. I've never met a man so flexible. You must be to get your head that far up your asshole!"

"Leonard like Church?"

"The original. Director Leonard Church, the one who made the AI your friend was based off of."

"A-I..."

"Yes. The Alpha AI fragment you knew in Blood Gulch. When I speak of Leonard, I mean the original whiny bastard who created your friend."

"So you were friends with Church's daddy!"

"Er."

"That is okay. Did Church have a mommy, too?"

Those bright, innocent blue eyes. Price cleared his throat. "Not exactly. AI aren't made how people are. Though Alpha did split and form the Beta fragment- which made things even worse for dealing with Leonard."

"That must have been very difficult."

"Managing his mental health was clearly going to be impossible from the start; within two weeks of my assignment with Project Freelancer, I had decided simply to see where encouraging him would lead. It went exactly where I suspected it would."

"And where is that?"

"They're all dead now."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"Death only means they are not here right now!"

"I-" Price paused, reaching for a cookie. "What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I said! But I will slow it down so you are sure to understand. Sometimes people go away and you think they will not come back, but they always do. Church always does! He is still around, he is just in the Epsilon unit right now!"

"You don't think death is a permanent state?"

"I have not seen it be permanent yet!"

"You believe your friend will come back?"

"He always does!"

Price stared at those innocent blue eyes, and something dark in him craved to take them over and introduce Caboose to the truth of death. To tell him his friend would never come back. The Meta and Tex would never come back. Caboose's best friend was dead, and the Epsilon unit was not a replacement. It would be so easy to wreck that innocent, sweet naivety- and watch the ensuing chaos as Caboose's mind broke.

Price took another bite of cookie. It would be as simple as defining mortality.

"Private Caboose..."

"Yes?"

That bright beaming smile. Those wondrous blue eyes.

"Your friends are very lucky to have you."

"They do not think so."

An unexpected flash of indignation sparked in Price's chest. "Oh?"

Caboose whispered, "Tucker is kind of stupid."

"Oh. And Agent Washington?"

"He seems nice. I'd like to keep him. He is not Church, but he could be a Church."

Price's moment of chaotic desire passed. "How is that?"

"He is grumpy. And tired. And he thinks me and Tucker are not smart. I like him."

"You like people who look down on you and have unpleasant personality traits?"

"I think they need good friends to teach them how to be good people!"

Unexpectedly, Price laughed. A grating, breathy sound, one that rusted around his vocal cords from lack of laughing muscles being used, but a laugh nonetheless.

"Perhaps you can teach me."

Caboose took Price's hand. "I think that would be nice."

Price marveled at himself for being unable to bear the thought of destroying that innocence. He had never been averse to ruining minds and consequently lives- but this one time, with Private Michael J. Caboose, Price couldn't do it. Even as he had considered it, figured in a heartbeat how to do it, known that the power of a word could accomplish great and terrible things, he had been unable to.