Red vs Blue fanfic: Attention to Detail (4/6)

[jennickels]

Chapter 4

It seemed like forever before Church got the vomiting under control. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then gulped water right from the tap, swishing it around his mouth before spitting it out. What he wouldn’t give for a toothbrush right now.

He’d forgotten about this side of having fun. He found that kind of ironic—what with being made of pure memory. He didn’t dwell on it. He did consider ditching this body for someone less pukey, but after splashing water on his face, he felt better. And switching would just confuse Caboose.

Church hurried back to where he last saw the gang—near an ice cream stand where Grif had been trying to convince Simmons that mixing all ten flavors was a sure cure for a hangover—but when he got there, the shop had closed. Fuck.

He scanned the mass of people, looking for a mop of black hair bobbing above the others. Or a glimpse of the turquoise sundress Carolina was wearing that was giving Church very confusing and uncomfortable feelings. He saw only strangers.

“Great,” he muttered. “They ditched me.”

He rubbed his face, wincing at his sore nose. This poor bastard was going to wake up to one hell of a hangover in the morning. Instinctively, Church reached for his radio toggle before remembering a second later he wasn’t wearing his armor. He wasn’t even wearing his own skin. Now what? Caboose would never voluntarily leave without him, so he figured they went on ahead when he took too long.

He located the looming beast towering over the other buildings—the sounds of delighted screams drifting on the wind like a dream. His stomach twisted again, but he ignored it. How many battles had he been in now? How many near-deaths? How many horrible tortures had he endured?

“Too fucking many,” he mumbled, getting a nasty look from a mother dragging a little girl behind her. The girl had red pigtails and green eyes. They were the wrong shade, but for a second he was back on Earth—a tiny girl by his side.

“Look at my dress, Daddy. It floats.”

Church shook his head as the spinning girl in his memories morphed into the one in front of him who was currently sticking out her tongue. He resisted the urge to flip the kid off.

“Sorry,” he mumbled to the lady then sprinted away because she had that look like she was about to lay into him. Carolina gave him that look a lot—it never ended well.

His heart didn’t settle for three whole blocks. What the hell was that? It sure wasn’t his memory. Or Alpha’s. But he knew, deep down, it was still him—Leonard Church. They were all essentially the same person at their core. Just their experiences sent them on different paths.

Church swallowed the lump in his throat and wiped the dampness from his cheeks. Fuck, he was never drinking again.

“Cody! Hey, Cody, wait up. Cody!” Someone grabbed Church’s arm, spinning him around. “I knew it was you?” the petite brunette said, hugging him. “It’s been forever. How have you been?”

“Uh-” Church blinked at the girl. It took him a second to match the name she called him to the one on the ID in his wallet. Cody Lawson. Age twenty-two. From Portland, Oregon. Wonder what he was doing so far from home? He cleared his throat when he realized she was waiting for some kind of response. “Um, okay, I guess?”

She slapped his arm. Hard. “That’s all you have to say? Okay, you guess? What happened to your grand plan to see the galaxy one planet at a time?”

“Well, um. I-” Was he always this awkward talking to girls? Tex would say yes. He shoved the thought of Tex way back in his brain where he kept the shit he wasn’t ready to deal with yet. The girl was still waiting for a real answer. The best lies are the ones rooted in truth. Someone had told him that once—probably Tex. He took a deep breath. “Well, see, there’s this war. And it’s pretty much everywhere, and one thing led to another. And I got drafted.” He shrugged.

Horror replaced the curiosity on her face. “Oh, Cody, no! You’re a pacifist. Can’t you like conscientiously object or something? Protest?”

Figures the guy in plaid shorts would be a pussy. But then he thought of Doc, and as annoying and often useless as the guy was, he held his own in battle. With or without O’Malley riding shotgun. “See, I figure,” Church told her, “I go into the medical corps. Couple years training to be a medic and then I’ll be saving people instead of shooting them.” He felt really proud of that whopper until the girl gasped.

“But you didn’t even finish high school. You said you were dropping out because you couldn’t read. I think you need to know how to read to be a medic.”

For crying out loud. He was so done with this conversation. Thankfully, he saw a flash of aqua and red hair in the distance. Finally. He shrugged at the girl. “Eh, I hear they take anyone now—they’re kind of desperate. Gotta go.” He didn’t wait for her to respond before taking off.

“Where the hell have you been?” Carolina yelled. Church was amazed at how clear her speech was when he was still fighting his tongue every other word.

“Nice to see you, too, sis.”

That softened the anger storming in her eyes. She took a deep breath, letting it out in a puff that ruffled her bangs. “Did I mention I’m a mean drunk?”

“The meanest,” Wash agreed, coming up behind her with a steaming cup of coffee. “This one time, her and Maine-”

Carolina slapped her hand over his mouth. “We agreed we’d never speak of that again.”

Wash winked at Church and mouthed, “I’ll tell you later.”

Church smiled. Damn, his face hurt from all of the smiling he’d done today. And it felt pretty fucking good. Seeing Carolina and Wash happy after everything they’d been through—even if it was for this brief moment—was worth compromising his dicey morals. He knew he was the cause of most of their pain. In one way or another. Wash more personally. His smile faltered. Another thought to keep Tex company in the back of his mind. Eventually, he would have to take stock and clear the skeletons in his closet. But not today. Today, he was on vacation.

“Where is everybody?” Church asked before he was swallowed by his dark thoughts.

“Don’t know. We turned around a second and they were gone,” Carolina said.

“And by ‘turn around,’ she means puking in a trash can and getting a ticket for public intoxication.”

Church snorted as Carolina punched Wash in the arm. He rubbed the spot with a goofy grin.

Carolina grabbed their arms, dragging them along. “Come on Tweedledee and Tweedledum, let’s go find the others. It’s getting dark and we should be heading back.”

“Yes, Mom,” Wash mumbled.

“Don’t make me smack you again.”

“Yeah, Tweedledum, leave her alone. She’s had a hard day of drinking and puking.”

“Reminds me of my college days. Brief as they were.”

Carolina glared at Church over her shoulder. “Don’t think I won’t deck you, too.”

Church laughed. “Oh, I know you would, Carolina.” He shot her a crooked grin, getting an eye roll in return. It was weird seeing everyone without their armor. Faces expressed so much emotion that was normally lost behind a visor. He wondered how often Carolina rolled her eyes at him.

“Now wait a minute,” Wash said. “I am most definitely Tweedledee. You’re Tweedledum.”

“What? No way. I’m not being Tweedledum. He’s, well, the dumb one.”

A grin slid across Wash’s face. “Too bad. I call dibs.”

“You can’t call dibs on a name.”

“Can.”

“Not.”

“Carolina?”

She let out an exasperated sigh—the kind Church’s mother gave him when he was little and on her last nerve. “They’re both idiots so the names could go either way.”

“See,” Church said, but was cut off by Carolina.

“But, Tweedledee did call dibs. Sorry, Dummy.”

“You both suck,” Church grumbled while Carolina and Wash laughed at him. There was nothing but affection behind his words, though.

They finally arrived at the line for the roller coaster. The front half was full of queued people. The end was occupied by only three red soldiers.

“Lift those legs, maggots. Double time!”

“But, Sarge,” Grif whined as he jogged through the winding fences. “I’m on vacation.”

Simmons was a few turns farther along, cursing under his breath.

“Preparedness takes no vacations, Private. What would you do if we were suddenly attacked by unseen alien forces?”

“Honestly, sir,” Grif said through gasps, “I’d just bow down to my new alien overlords. They probably treat their army better than this.”

Sarge smacked Grif with a stick he was carrying like a shotgun. “Nonsense. You will lay down your life in the line of fire protecting your commanding officer. As it says in my report, er, will say. Now drop and give me twenty.”

The three of them gave Sarge a wide berth. Church was pretty sure Grif was crying. He hopped over the barrier to join Simmons as he walked back and forth along the path. “You okay?”

Simmons held his side and sucked in gulping breaths. “That man is deranged. He’s going to kill us. Kill Grif.”

They glanced over their shoulders. Wash patted Simmons’ shoulder. “I think I’ll go rescue him. I really don’t want to drag an unconscious Grif back to the ship. Save me a spot in line.”

Simmons moaned. “I am not going on that thing. I don’t care what Sarge does. I’ll take the court-martial. I don’t give a fuck. I’m done.” He slid under the fence and trudged to the nearest bench where he collapsed.

“Wow,” Church said. “Looks like Red team is falling apart.”

“It’s a nice change of pace,” Carolina said with a nod. The two of them continued to zig-zag along the path. Church smiled when Carolina started singing along with the song playing over the speakers lining the path. God, she was awful.

As they caught up with the tail end of the line, Church caught sight of a pink oxford shirt and ugly purple hoodie. “Hey, there’s the others,” he said with a sigh. “Finally.”

They annoyed quite a few people in line as they pushed through and hopped the fences to get to their friends. Doc and Donut waved, each holding an ice cream cone.

“Where the fu-” Tucker uncharacteristically stumbled over his words. He eyed a little old lady standing nearby and cleared his throat. “Heck. Where the heck have you been?”

“Long story,” Church said, absently. He counted the people with Tucker and came up one short. Church looked around. “Where’s Caboose?”

Tucker frowned. “I don’t know. I thought he was with you.”

Church’s real human heart stopped. His lungs refused to work. Shit. Shit. Shit. How could he let this happen? Caboose depended on him to keep him safe. And he failed.

Again.

Later, they’d go over the day, detail by detail, looking for those missed signs. Beating themselves up for not paying better attention. For not keeping a closer eye on Caboose. It will be one of those lessons they learned the hard way. Which, let’s face it, has been the majority of their lessons so far.

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