#rvb+winter

Rain. Normally such a simple thing would be at most a hindrance or an annoyance, at the very least she’d wish for her helmet and the night vision it provided, but Carolina was numb to the rain even as it pored over her. In the back of her mind she knew it was helpful, covering her tracks, masking her sound, shrouding her in plain sight. She was dead now, after all, a dead person couldn’t leave a trace. Everything was still a little fuzzy, she could hardly remember how she got out of the forest, let alone the mountains.

The first solid memory she could think back to was tucking herself away in the belly of a cargo plane to make her way back to civilization. Logically, it wasn’t the best place to hide, but then again it was. Carolina knew there was one place they wouldn’t look for her, one place no one ever went anymore.

In the dark night and the pouring rain she slowly walked down the familiar path, though she kept her mind numb of the memories, not daring to stop to think even for a moment until she arrived at her destination.

It wasn’t hard to vault over the fence, and the potted plant, though now wilted still hid the spare key beneath it. Within a few moments the door creaked open and the Spartan stepped inside, shutting and locking the door behind her.

Glancing around the room she saw nothing had been moved. Except for a layer of dust, nothing had changed since she’d last been there.

It felt strange as she took a few tentative steps further into the house. It was so quiet. The reflection of an outside light on glass caught her eye, turning, she simply stood and stared for what felt like hours before she reached up to pluck the picture frame from the wall.

Her father had always been the one with the camera, leaving most of the home movies and photos just her and her mom. It was her fourth birthday, she was sure of it; she’d gotten that dress as a birthday present and had wanted to wear it right away.

Rage filled her suddenly as she flung the photo across the room, the glass shattered as it struck the wall and fell to the ground.

Why… WHY?! Wasn’t it bad enough that mom had to die? Why did he have to bring her back like that? That wasn’t even mom! Not really…

Then again things had never been the same since the day two men showed up at their door years ago. She remembered a knock at the door, opening it in hopes of her mom being there, her dad only a few steps behind. The two men dressed in white had saluted them, her father had been handed a flag and a set of dog tags as words were exchanged while she simply looked on in confusion.

He was never the same after that.

She had tried so hard to help him, and harder still for him to notice her, for him to be proud of her. And then he just… at first Carolina wasn’t sure, she didn’t recognize the sound of her moms voice, she just knew she wanted to grow up to be just like her, so dad could be happy again.

But it was her, it was so much like her but so very much not her it hurt in ways Carolina didn’t think possible.

She walked over quickly to where she had flung the picture frame, kneeling down she carefully picked up the photo from amidst the broken glass.

You can’t stop this Carolina, but you can come with me.

What if she had gone… gone with her ghost of a mother instead of believing that she had to stay and help her father, stay and help the man who so desperately needed it. If he had just let her help… but he didn’t, nor did he help her when Maine tore away her AI’s or flung her from the cliff. Lying in the snow, hurt but still alive, she had still expected help, waited for help, but none came. Eventually she had forced herself to her feet and simply picked a direction and started walking.

Slowly her heart began to accept what she had known for a long time, somewhere in the back of her mind that she had always denied. Her father, Leonard Church, was dead. He had died the day he was told his wife would never come home. There was only the director now.

The hour was late, and the youngest resident of the house had long since gone to bed, though her father sat awake in his chair as he always did.  Lowering his book for a moment, he rubbed his eyes tiredly before glancing at his watch. Just a little bit longer, he’d finish this page first, then go to bed. Before he could relocate his place on the page the faint sound of footsteps outside reached his ears. Setting his book aside he watched the front door, hopeful, almost holding his breath as he got up from his chair to quickly cover the few steps over.

Was he imagining things due to his lack of sleep?

The soft sound of scraping metal as a key fished for the lock synched it for him and he reached forward to quickly open the door, his hands fumbling in his haste. Light from inside spilled out onto the porch illuminating the one who blinked surprised, key still in hand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in-” before she could finish her sentence he had wrapped her up in a powerful hug, burying his face in her shoulder for a moment before kissing her cheek. She laughed softly as she hugged him back before lifting him right off his feet despite still carrying all her gear. “At least let me in the house first.” She teased as she walked the few steps over the threshold before putting him down, her bag following quickly after as she removed her helmet.

“Ah didn’t think you’d be gettin in till tomorrah.” He whispered, green eyes never leaving her as if he was afraid he’d wake up any moment. She simply smiled at him and shrugged her shoulders before motioning her head down the hall.

“Is she at least in bed?” she asked, an eyebrow raising slightly as she looked back at him questioningly.

“She’s been going ta bed on time every night.” Was his quick reassurance which gained him an approving nod as she quietly walked down the hall.

Slipping inside the bedroom she turned on the small bedside lamp before resting a hand on the small girls shoulder, giving it a gentle shake. Sure it could wait till morning, but she knew her little girl too well, to her such things couldn’t wait.

Small hands rubbed tiredly across her face while she was coaxed to sit up, softly whimpering her protest. "Daddy?" She queried softly as green eyes blinked open.

"Hey baby girl."

Eyes went wide, that was not daddy. Looking up the small child shrieked in delight as she practically flung herself forward, clutching to the dirtied armor her mother still wore.

"Mommy!"

Strong arms held the child close as the mother stood, turning to roll her eyes at her husband who had come back with his camera.

"I missed you mommy." The little girl whimpered into the armor, still clinging to it tightly.

"Hey, don't be like that, I'm here now." She said as she gently placed a kiss atop the child’s head before looking back to the camera. "Church, put that down and get over here." She scolded him playfully.

It was one of those situations which, in hindsight, was a horrible idea. Then again anything that started with one of them handing a beer to another and saying ‘hold this while I try something’ was destined to go poorly.

Wash, the most sober among them was usually the one left with an armful of half emptied beer cans, or in this case, bottles.

“You guys, I don’t think is the most effective use of shore leave.” Wash called up after the others who had somehow found the largest tree in the middle of the city and were drunkenly trying to climb it.

“Nonsense! This is the perfect use of our recreational time!” none of them were sure how Wyoming managed to get drunk and still remain somewhat eloquent, though he wasn’t having as much luck pulling himself up to the first branch.

North, second on the sobriety list, laughed as he offered Wyoming a hand and helped pull him up into the tree. “I take it it’s been awhile since your last tree climbing.” North joked, making sure his friend was steady on the branch before continuing his attempt to climb once more.

York and Maine were already half way up, the silent marine had a higher tolerance for alcohol, though that usually meant he downed more shots before staggering after the others to hunt down the tree they were now all over.

“I bet I can beat you to the top Maine!” York shouted, half slipping half climbing up the tree. Maine simply gave a slurred battle shout as he attempted to climb higher, though in his ambition he broke the branch he was standing on which left him dangling by one arm from the branch above him.

“Guys be careful! I swear this is against protocol!” Wash shouted up, though the others just laughed.

“Come on Wash! Learn to live a little!” York called back, watching as Maine pulled himself up to the branch, taking a little longer than he might’ve.

Excellence was to be applied in every field when it came to project freelancer. This included shore leave which had somehow turned into ladies night in when the boys had all disappeared to go find drinks for a boys night out.

Not one of them cared though, this was their week off from training and they were going to enjoy it. That went for each and every one of them.

There had been a little griping over what to get at the store, South had wanted to splurge more on drink than food whereas C.T wanted to get a box of chocolate instead. Thankfully though 479er had gone with them and had managed to calm things down, convincing them both that she wasn’t going to spend what little shore leave she got with them fighting over stuff like this. After pointing out several different kinds of alcohol South managed to pick something both in their price range and that she thought sounded good. That done she then steered them to the snack isle and was able to get C.T to pick some things other than a single box of chocolates. That done they finally headed back, South and C.T already chuckling as they chatted once more.

Carolina had stayed behind to keep an eye on the safe house while the others went to the store to procure some drinks and something to eat, then back to debate which movie to watch first. They still had their armor on hand, in case of emergencies, but with a few adjustments the helmet could act as a projector to play any movie it had saved to file. They all laughed and joked as they set everything up on the dinky little coffee table, simple snacks and cheap beer, even though they’d all chipped in to get the best they could afford.

 None of them cared though, South especially seemed to be having a good time without her brother there to tell her not to drink and she joked about it with C.T, insisting they have a drinking contest. The two of them laughed and hunkered down onto the mattress they’d dragged from one of the rooms, the couch nowhere near big enough for all of them, plus they’re happy to have the extra room to lie out as Carolina and 479er took up the couch, still keeping an eye on the other two teammates just in case.

There was just something about a couple of coronas and sopuros along with snacks and a marathon of bad movies that made for one hell of an evening. C.T was the first to drift off during an old classic of the 1900’s, an empty bottle still loosely held in her hand, leaning slightly against South who fell asleep before the movie was over. 479er got up and grabbed sheets from the bedrooms, placing one over South and C.T before passing one to Carolina and wrapping herself up in the third as she hunkered back onto the couch.

The lack of having to do anything the next day had the two of them switching between their helmets and watching movies till it started to get bright outside, the beer and snacks long since devoured. A soft creek alerted them both to the door, a weapon in either of their hands before it even opened. Both sighed softly, shaking their heads as North stepped in, glancing around as he half carried a limping Washington.

The entirety of red base was silent. The lack of bickering was never a good sign. Silence lasted as long at red base as it did at blue base, although blue base tended to have more screaming since they had Church, whose screams were usually a response to something Caboose had done. Sarge had more of a quiet rage however which was usually only ever punctuated by blasts from his shotgun, though today things were clearly a little different.

In hindsight it probably wasn’t the best idea to make Donut clean all the weapons after the whole issue with sending him to the damn store. But he was going to be staying in the base, not to mention Grif didn’t want to do it himself, so he roped the rookie into doing it for him.

The problem was that it seemed Donut didn’t know how to properly clean a gun.

Even then Grif knew he could’ve done some damage control with Simmons, if Donut hadn’t somehow gotten his hands on Sarge’s shotgun while he was in the shower and cleaned that too. Thankfully, if nothing else, the lack of grease and oil meant that the shotgun itself couldn’t be properly fired, however that didn’t stop their sergeant from chasing the three of them all over red base wielding it like a club.

Donut had been surprised that their old sergeant was able to chase them all over without tiring, Simmons quickly tried to explain that it was logical, and that if Donut had at least spared Sarge’s precious shotgun they wouldn’t be in this mess, then added the MJOLNIR armor had a lot to do with it.

Grif of course had been caught and knocked down first, the orange soldier desperately trying to tuck his head in and cover it with his hands, was still able to feel each hit despite wearing armor. He shouted for Simmons to help him, pleading for the maroon soldier not to abandon him which left said Spartan torn between running, saving Grif, again, and going against his commanding officer. In the end he ended up running back towards them as Donut continued to keep his distance. Simmons called out to Sarge, trying to reason with him he stated that he was only damaging his shotgun further by beating it against Grif’s thick head. The second Simmons got within range Sarge immediately turned and swung the butt of his gun at the maroon helmet, clipping it hard.

“Ah’m blamin you fer this Simmons!” Sarge snapped as Simmons staggered back, hands clutching his helmet as he tried to feel for any cracks the old man might’ve caused.

“But Sir, I didn’t-”  Simmons tried to reason after finding no actual damage to his helmet only to be cut short as their sergeant started bellowing again.

“It’s your job to keep an eye on ‘im! You know how lazy he is!” thankfully during this exchange Grif actually chose not to give his usual comeback of trying to point the blame at Simmons instead of himself and remained quiet as he lay on the ground.

“Sir, in all fairness, basic gun maintenance really should be taught before any soldier is shipped off, if you’d just give us the chance we’ll teach Donut how to do it right and clean every gun on base.” Simmons quickly offered, even if it did end up being him teaching Donut while Grif fell asleep in his chair, it was better than the current situation and –

“No.” Sarge Growled.

“Sir?” The maroon soldiers voice wavered slightly, not sure what to do if his plan didn’t work.

“Ah’m going to go take care of mah shotgun, and in that time you boys are going to clean the base, THEN you’ll clean the other guns when ah’m done with mine.” He growled in a low voice before turning and storming back to the base. Once out of sight, Donut practically crept back over as Simmons helped Grif to his feet. The red rookie was about to continue on back to the base to get started on the cleaning only to be stopped by the other two. The three Spartans stood in silence, two waiting while the third wondered what was going on. A moment later there was the sound of a door slamming shut, only then did the other two Spartans relax.

“Dude, I can’t believe you.” Simmons started.

“Me?! Come on man I may not clean my gun but at least I know not to touch Sarge’s shotgun.” Grif countered indignantly.

“Well it’s not my fault, I haven’t been here that long!” Donut squeaked, not liking how it sounded like it was ending up his fault. How was he supposed to know how much the Sergeant loved his shotgun? He just thought he’d make a good impression by cleaning it along with all the other guns.

Simmons just sighed and shook his head. “Look, lets just get started cleaning up the base, and with any luck the blues won’t attack while we’ve got nothing to shoot back with.”

It was quite a rush to ride out of the ice canyon on the UNFC’s Hornet, with Grif flying them out of there as one of the men chased after them trying to get him to land it. In true Grif fashion, he ignored the guy and flew on as Sarge and Simmons rode outside. Flipping the radio on as they left the guard in the snow on course back to Valhalla, each of them kept an eye on their surroundings as they flew. They weren’t about to survive a fight against a freelancer just to be shot down.

Not too far below them three blue dots made their way across the snow, possibly to acquire a vehicle or, dare they even think it, walk. Well if the blues wanted to do things the stupid way that was up to them.

Grif or Simmons couldn’t really blame them, while they’d gotten over their fear of flying after crashing onto the battle field it was really only Sarge who seemed to be having a blast. The readout on his HUD told him that the temperature around them was close to negative forty degrees, and while that normally would prove to be interesting as it was where both Fahrenheit and Celsius intersected, Simmons knew it was also close to the freezing point of most fuels. Thankfully their suits were designed to keep them at a much more pleasant temperature.

The trip back was mostly uneventful, till Grif clipped the waterfall on the decent into the canyon. Both Simmons and Sarge gripped the sides of the Hornet, Sarge yelling at Grif’s stupidity while Simmons simply babbled pleas for Grif not to crash. The vehicle spun between the two bases as Grif struggled with the controls best he could, trying to aim them towards the water in an attempt to set them down there and save the Hornet. It seemed their luck had been used up for that day however, and Simmons leaped off the second they were at the shoreline, though Sarge was more graceful on his bailing out, probably had something to do with his previous post which had him dropping out of ships from high orbit.

Once Simmons was back on his feet he turned just in time to watch the Hornet hit the water, quickly sinking under. Panicked, he looked everywhere for Grif, shouting out his name over the radio hoping the orange sergeant would answer. Sarge just shook his head, saying that this was just Grif’s time to go, it couldn’t have been earlier, far too grand a death to die against an enemy like that. Grif deserved something more along the lines of drowning in the toilet, though Sarge admitted that he thought the shores of Valhalla would do just fine.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m fine.” Grif finally answered over the radio as he almost literally dragged himself to shore, shedding water everywhere.

“Grif! Why can’t you just die in ah humiliating way an’ leave me in peace! Or at least have saved the airship, it was a mighty fine airship. Not to mention it could’ve given us a leg up on those darn blues!”

“Sarge, we drove through the water to help Caboose find Tucker, if I wasn’t going to drown then, I’m not going to now.” Grif stated in a matter of fact tone, shaking his head to Simmons as the maroon soldier walked down to assist if necessary.

“Huh, I bet ya could have if you weren’t so lazy about it, just try to die harder that’s all I’m asking!” Sarge grumbled as he started back towards their base.

Grif sighed as he watched their sergeant go “Hey Simmons, any chance I can convince you to let me slack off for a bit without your usual noise to try and get me to do shit?”

For a moment they were both silent, then Simmons holstered his weapon and removed his helmet. “Only if you let me in on it, after a crazy ass day like this I want a fucking break too.” He laughed as he started back towards the base.

She eyed the little girl thoughtfully. York usually sang to get her to quiet down. Carolina wasn’t much of a singer, but she figured she should try. 

She started singing softly, a lullaby her mother used to sing when she was little, wondering if Ally could even here her over her screams. Eventually, the screaming stopped, green eyes focusing on Carolina as she continued to sing. Slowly, those began to slide closed as Ally settled down, falling asleep.