We're… here. We're at the end. I am… completely and utterly stunned and don't know what to say but… we're here. I've completed the literal longest thing I have ever written and there are not words to describe how I feel about this journey. I feel completely different from the person who started this fic, I feel like the fandom is completely different from when I started this fic. And wow. It's just been such a journey and the support and love and commitment of you guys who have supported me all along – like you all deserve awards. Putting up with my laziness and scheduling issues and everything in between. You guys are awesome and I cannot thank you enough.

Now, while this is the end, I do want you to know – for those who would be interested – that I will be eventually writing a sequel for this that will deal with our Recovery gang and the Chorus arc. I'm really excited and scared about it, but it's a while off. So anyone who wants know how things end up after the ending, hopefully I'll be getting that out to you sooner than later. Also hopefully less than 61 chapters because let's be honest, this fic is a monster haha

Sincerely, thank you every single person who has supported me throughout this fic. It wouldn't happen without you. And a special thanks to analiarvb, secretlystephaniebrown, notatroll7, every-survival, washingtonstub, icefrozenover, Yin, Red, meep, and a-taller-tale for the feedback!

Recovery None
The End

South and Washington had looks on their faces as if they knew exactly what steps were coming before them. Like there was nothing at all to be hesitant about. The wind had just picked up their sails and it was going to take them forward. It was going to take them to the End.

But Carolina, despite her harsh words, had hesitation.

We have to make him pay, Carolina. This is our chance. You promised we'd make him pay– Epsilon was harshly echoing in her mind.

"I know," she said lowly before looking back at the crowd that had gathered together in order to secure such a shaky victory for them to begin with. Her gaze was met with York and Niner's, several yards apart. "They came to help."

Epsilon appeared over her shoulder. His own gaze was following the other determined Recovery agents who were rushing toward the ship. Then he looked back to Carolina. "Do you want to take a second to talk to them?" he asked. "I mean, literally a second. Because we've gotta get going and finish this thing and I'm not so sure how much time I have for mushy stuff–"

"There's no mushy," Carolina said dismissively. "And I don't know what to say because… Never in my life did I have the confidence of knowing that when I turned around, people would still be there. I never had the confidence that what I had done was enough to keep them. And… And both of them have left me before. Even if they were doing what they thought was best. So I'm wondering… especially with as much bad as I've done, with as much as I'd have to do before I ever came to a modicum of good… how do I know that they'll still be there after I leave now?"

Uncharacteristically quieted, Epsilon hugged his shoulders and joined Carolina in gazing at the motley crew that had somehow all been gathered there – for them or not for them.

"I've never had that either," Epsilon admitted. "And I mean… me. Not just… y'know. The guy I was coped from. Or the other guy I was copied from. Or any of the other copies I remember. I mean… me me. Though I don't think any of them had it either." He then looked at her directly. "The only person I've ever had, the only person I've ever known would be there for me no matter how much I fucked up… it's been you, Carolina."

The revelation nearly knocked the breath from her, she kept staring ahead, eyes blurring. She didn't want to believe him, not on her own instincts, but her mind and that shared connection between them told Carolina that Epsilon was speaking purely the truth.

"I can't speak for anyone else here, but I can say, even if they'e not still there when you walk out of here, I'm going to be. Just for as long as you let me pal around," Epsilon reminded her. "So uh… Trust issues be damned. I'm kinda attached to you, Cee."

"Whether you want to be or not by this point, I imagine," Carolina said, finally tearing her gaze away from her former compatriots and heading toward the bowels of the ship again, quickly catching up to the other former Recovery agents. "You know what I want to do once we're in there, don't you, Epsilon?"

"Yeah, I'm not just sharing space in here," he reminded her. "I'm not exactly thrilled. But I guess it'd be nice to know what it's like just to live. I don't think I've got the most experience with it."

"Same," Carolina responded before reaching the other two. "He'll most likely be in the innermost part of the ship. Things are broken up, but for the most part schematics are the same. His private laboratory would be near the training room and seminar room–"

"We're not idiots, Carolina, we remember where his fucking office is," South snapped. "Just not so sure about how confident I am in a dead girl's assurance that he's still here at all."

"A dead person's word usually works better for me than up and up liars," Washington said darkly. His grip on his rifle could have not been tighter.

Carolina looked at him, rather stunned. "Excuse me?"

"He's pissy because I knew about him but he didn't know about me and I failed to mention it in the forty minutes we saw each other before everything fucking exploded in our faces," South answered for him. "To say nothing of you. Even I didn't know about you. Let alone that you're special enough to get hooked up with another AI even after the program was torn to shit."

Epsilon disappeared. But Carolina did not miss the look toward her from Wash.

He seemed so much harder, so much less forgiving than when they had last talked just a short time ago in the canyon.

"Wash…" she said lowly. "We'll explain everything later."

"Great," Wash said flatly. "I look forward to knowing exactly why I'm disgusted with all of you later. Until then, I want the Director to know exactly what hell he's put me through. Us all through. Whether he gave us a second's thought or not."

Her voice was lost in her throat as she continued to stare at Wash, Carolina knew that she should have more to say to him, but she didn't. All she had was the numb guilt throughout her while everything came crashing down. And she wasn't sure if it was more from her or from Epsilon anymore.

The only thing either of them could think to say were the two words that were seemingly impossible to form.

I'm sorry.

Maybe she would find a better way to say them at a later time. Maybe he could forgive her at a later time. But as it stood, the way Carolina felt it in her heart and the way Epsilon was pounding it into her head, she knew better.

There was no better way to apologize. There was no better way to explain how, for so long, someone who promised to lead, to protect, to champion others could spend so much time not thinking of anyone's aspirations or needs but her own.

And there was no nice way of explaining that part of how she learned it was through the very AI – the very person – who had caused him so much pain to begin with.

Not to mention, that was just Washington. Carolina hadn't even mustered the mental capacity of worrying about how to approach South. Not that South was particularly approachable to begin with.

Man you're piling on the super heavy stuff on us right before we're about to bust some heads, Cee, Epsilon reminded her. Might want to tone down the guilt just a bit before we get to the hardest part of all of this.

I know, she answered simply just as they approached the final hall.

"I can't believe there haven't been any defenses," Washington said out loud.

"Ship's too busted up," South answered gruffly.

"No, it was the Alpha," Carolina answered. "He took control of the ship before coming to help us with the Meta… with Maine. He must have locked the Director out of any control of the ship. Any way of getting away."

"Then why weren't Tex and Church interested in coming themselves?" Wash asked.

"Who cares?" South growled out.

"I have the feeling that they knew that the real way this had to go down was…" Carolina turned the corner and stopped, holding out her arm to stop the other two behind her.

The laboratory door was open, and a soft glow from a view screen was present. A familiar but forgotten voice was on repeat. Carolina refused to acknowledge it, refused to let it affect her.

Slowly, she led the slow step forward toward the office.

The Director did not even have the decency to turn and face them.

"I am surprised you did not come alone, Carolina," he said lowly. "Though I knew you would be the one to find me. I knew you would be the one to complete this program. My work."

"Your work…" Carolina repeated, voice sounding so distant even to her own words.

"But I'm disappointed that you did not do this alone, that you didn't have the strength to face me," he said, setting down a bottle of what was no doubt whisky.

"Fuck you," Epsilon exploded in anger, appearing over Carolina's shoulder.

Carolina held up her hand to stop him from going further then looked to South an Wash. Both were watching her with suspicion.

"I'm not alone," she agreed. "Because it's time you faced the fact… I'm not the only one you've hurt, Director. It's time for you to stop looking at the past, looking at that screen, and face all the lives you've shattered. It only starts with us."

Her heart was pounding in her ears. She wasn't even sure where she had found the words. But they worked enough – his chair turned to face them.

In truth, Washington wasn't sure why he was even going with his former teammates. Following orders, falling back into old routines – maybe. But his mind was far from cooperative with the task at hand.

He hadn't had time to ask Caboose if he was alright, or help Tucker with the task Tex assigned him – which was really getting to him because there was that thing with Tucker and not to mention that slight waver and lack of balance that was unusual even for someone as raw and untrained as the aqua sim trooper.

And Tex and Church – he needed to know how they accomplished whatever it had been that took out Maine at long last.

When the time came for it, Wash's mind was far from Freelancer for the first time in years. Even as he followed his former leader, his instincts were distinctly tied to other loyalties all together.

The significance of such a fact was something that would be beyond him until later.

Because Wash's mind was filled with Blues and Reds until they hit the laboratory and that recording played on the wall straight out of his worst nightmares. Those images too familiar and real, that voice too haunting and terrifying.

And there was a name at the tip of his tongue that Washington wouldn't dare say as it filled him with longing and rage.

"I'm not alone," Carolina said boldly, breaking through Washington's silent shock. "Because it's time you faced the fact… I'm not the only one you've hurt, Director. It's time for you to stop looking at the past, looking at that screen, and face all the lives you've shattered. It only starts with us."

Washington was not ready for the man who caused everything to look him in the eyes. And the Director also didn't seem ready to give Wash that level of acknowledgement.

His focus was on Carolina.

"You hope to make me more aware of my mistakes by presenting me with the very agents who were given the most opportunity?" the Director demanded. "That is a faulty plan at best."

"Oh, fuck you," South snarled from the other side of Carolina as she stepped closer to the desk than either Wash or Carolina dared. "Most opportunity? You mean held to task longer than anyone else? Because everyone else fucking fled when they could? Can you be that deluded that you think we owe you for that?"

"He can be," Wash answered before he could stop himself.

And that was when the Director at long last looked at him. That even, level glare, that knowing look. He seemed to know something about the depths of the betrayal Washington had felt.

"I am most surprised to see you here, Agent Washington," the Director admitted.

"Believe me, there are plenty of others who I'd prefer the company of," Wash remarked coldly. "But it seems like we have to deal with the cards we've gotten. And I'm here to make sure that you're held accountable for everyone you've designed this project to hurt."

"This project was not designed to harm, it was designed to preserve the best of the species," the Director said firmly. "Or have you all forgotten that the war you signed up for was a fight for our right as a very species to exist. Humanity was losing."

"Stop trying to make this about anyone but you," South cut in coldly. "For fuck's sake. At least have the decency to acknowledge that we're here for you, not for your moral posturing."

Washington, though, could not let the comments stand as they were. His eyes narrowed as he kept the Director's gaze. "There was no humanity in what you designed, Director. Humanity did not win through Project Freelancer. It was stripped from us. And it was stripped from anyone who opposed us in battle or in training to make living with what we were doing easier. That's not humanitarianism. That's barbarism. That's ignoring how fucked up we were willing to become in order to pretend we hadn't lost already."

Whatever attention Wash had held slipped in those comments and once more the Director's gaze fell on Carolina. There was something broken and pleading in his gaze toward her, where only hardness and disappointment appeared for Wash and South.

"You have to know that what I did–"

"I know what you did," Carolina said lowly. "And that's enough to know there's no excuse." For the first time since they entered the room, Carolina looked up toward the screen that was playing on repeat. With her helmet on, Wash couldn't see what expression she wore. And, yet, somehow, in the back of his mind, in a flurry of emotions and memories that were not completely his own, Wash knew. "You were so busy looking at the past, fighting for ghosts, you were never going to be able to fight for our futures. You were never going to support humanity. You supported what we lost. Never what we won. That's… that's not science. That's not right. It's just sad."

"It's wrong," Wash added. "And you might think it's right because you hate yourself, but nothing you did to yourself can excuse what you did to everyone else. You have to pay for that. You have to pay for everyone."

The Director seemed to be losing what fight had been left within him. At least, until there was an echoing click of a trigger.

"And we all know that there's only one person who's actually going to be willing to make you pay," South announced, her pistol aimed at the Director's head.

"South!" Carolina growled out. She looked legitimately shaken. "He's our bargaining chip – the UNSC is coming right now and handing over the Director is–"

Washington studied the lack of tremor in South's arm, the way she didn't even flinch at Carolina's screams. And he knew that this wasn't a decision that words were going to alter.

The Director's fate, and any hope Wash had of getting answers, were in South's hands.

South, Theta said reluctantly, I'm pretty sure this isn't what the others agreed to.

Her gun was locked and loaded. Her finger danced on the trigger, lightly squeezing, just enough, almost there. It was about to be all over. And no matter how fast Carolina was or how reasonable Wash would try to be, they couldn't stop her.

No one could stop her. That was the point.

The Director couldn't control her, and he still couldn't meet her eye when he could with Carolina – no surprise – and Washington. What was there for them that wasn't for her? How could he still make her care about his negligence toward her?

Why did he have the power to tie her up in knots when she never surrendered that power to him willingly before?

Eyes narrowed, South gritted her teeth. "It'd be more poetic if I was holding North's rifle at your head," she admitted darkly. "That'd be unmistakable. You couldn't spin that another way. But then it'd just be about revenge for North. I got that already. This is about revenge for me. Once and for all."

He still was not looking at her. South felt her jaw tighten.

"Have you lost your mind?" Carolina demanded. "What bargaining chip do we–"

"Oh, shut up," South snapped.

"Excuse me–"

"I won't. I'm not in the business of excusing anyone, least of all with this project," South growled. "God, none of you get it still, do you? None of you realize that this isn't about leverage or about the UNSC. Fuck the UNSC. Who do you think I've been working for? Who do you think North died for?"

Silently, both Carolina and Wash were staring at her in awe. They couldn't believe it – South could feel the reluctance they had to accept that South was capable of that level of double crossing. That level of ingenuity.

It was enough to drive her up a wall.

They still couldn't see how capable she was.

South wished she didn't care as much as she did about it.

"I'll cut to the surprise for you then since you both seem so starstruck by the notion," South sneered. "The UNSC is ran by men just like him. And they're not interested in ethics he broke or humanity he squandered. They're interested in the results he didn't share. They're interested in the equipment we use. And if you think making deals with us to turn on him is easier to these people than us all conveniently disappearing into some prison sinkhole or being accidentally voided into space, then you've got another thing coming. They evacuated this planet, I'm sure you all noticed. But did you ever think of why? Think of why they'd maybe want to get rid of a planet full of potential witnesses?"

"That's not true!" Carolina spat back. "You're making excuses for yourself so that you can continue watching out only for yourself!"

"South, there's a way for all of us to get out of this," Washington tried to say levelly but South couldn't help but interrupt them both with a laugh.

"God, you're both idiots. You're both blind," South said plainly. "Everything I've said is the truth. And even if I was just looking out for myself? How could I not? No one else is going to look out for me. That's been abundantly clear over all this time. And no one taught me that lesson more than this program, the likes of you, and especially the Director."

Still, he didn't look at her.

"Poetic justice," South said simply.

"South, you do this and we're all screwed without exception," Carolina snapped.

"Death is to quick and easy, let him face a day in court," Wash added.

South, remember North, Theta whispered through her mind.

"I am remembering North!" she snarled.

"What?" Wash asked with a tilt of his helmet.

Carolina eased back. "You… you implanted your brother's AI. Epsilon, why didn't you–"

"Epsilon!?" Wash cried out.

South ignored them and instead looked at her shoulder as Theta projected himself. There might not have been much in the way of expressions for the sprites the AI chose for themselves, but South could feel the exhaustion and anxiety from him. It flowed through her in waves.

"Remember how North went too far… and he wasn't going to be able to come back no matter what," Theta reminded her. "South… I'm scared because… how far are you?"

She kept her eyes on Theta while Washington and Carolina yelled back and forth behind her. Her nostrils flared under the mask, making the air grow hot and bothersome around her head.

"Goddammit," she snapped before ripping her helmet off with her free hand and keeping the gun aligned with the Director's temple. "Look me in the face, you bastard. Look at me for once, you stupid son of a bitch. I'm the one who's going to kill you, and I want to hear you speak to me."

For the first time, the Director's gaze fell upon South. She felt the full weight of those green eyes, the weakness in the deep bags beneath them. For the first time it was all turned on her.

"Why?" she asked simply. "Maybe they don't need answers. Maybe they already know. Maybe they just don't care," South remarked with a small nod toward Carolina and Washington as they finally quit squabbling and noticed what was happening right in front of them. "But I care. I want an answer." She nodded toward the screen. "What was all this for? And spare me the talks of humanity and preservation of the species. We've got about ten minutes before UNSC officers come storming the place. And you're not going to make it that long if I don't start hearing what I need to hear. Why. Did. You. Do. This?"

While the recording behind the Director played its audio incessantly, it might as well have been utter silence. All eyes were on them. All breaths were held.

Even Theta had reflexively disappeared from South's shoulder and into the retreat of her implants.

"When I was young, I lost someone very dear to me," the Director answered, his gaze unwavering even as Carolina and Washington shifted uncomfortably near them. "The war took her from me, and with her it took any beliefs and anticipations I had for the future. One life was all it took for me to realize that the ethics and standards which I once believed we all held ourselves to were arbitrary and explosive. That strength had to come from being willing to destroy what we wanted to build. And I did. I destroyed beautiful things, beautiful people, time and time again, and I created the sorts of soldiers and equipment that would sacrifice humanity for the rest of the species' preservation. And I found the types of people who psychologically fit the mold of people who would be willing or at least capable of losing those restraints through our program." He paused. "Then I saw a glimpse of what I had lost again. I saw a way to have both – to have the soldier and what I had never hoped to regain. Anything less than both objectives became failure in my eyes. I… I became the failure I had always felt I was."

South leered at him.

"Does that answer your questions adequately, Agent South Dakota?" he asked grimly. "Because they are the only answers I could hope to give."

Scowling still, South looked Carolina and Wash's way. "I am so sick of these cryptic-ass motherfuckers playing word games," she informed them before shifting the aim of her gun and firing right into the Director's right kneecap. "There he's not going anywhere, and I left a knee for you, Wash."

"South! You crazy asshole!" Carolina yelled in shock at it all.

"Yeah, I know," she said, putting her firearm away and turning to leave. "Let's go grovel to the new leash holders."

The other two did not follow, but Theta appeared on her shoulder all the same. He looked at her almost ambivalently.

"What made you choose not to kill him?" he asked.

"Straightforward all of the sudden, aren't we?" she asked back. "Trying to see if you can take credit for my sudden change of heart?"

"I know better," he assured her.

"It was his eyes," South answered, looking ahead of herself. "They were of a man that wanted nothing more than for me to put that bullet between them for him. Do the dirty work, just like he always assigned me to do his dirty work. I didn't feel like he deserved the pleasure one more time."

The little AI hummed and vibrated through her mind. "You decided after you saw his eyes, though. It wasn't just the eyes."

South sneered at him. "What? You think you can psychoanalyze me just because you've been playing around in my head for a few days?"

"Nope," he answered simply.

"Fine, it was also what he said," South answered reluctantly. "About how he let his losses overshadow any potential future." There was a small silence between them as they advanced and South took that time to put her helmet back on. "Guess I let it get me sentimental for a moment or two. Thought too hard about it. Probably should go back and shoot him just in case."

"I think we could stand to keep moving forward," Theta replied. "And maybe shoot that fake body again if it'll make you feel better."

"That sounds like an AI that's been hanging around my head for a few days," South laughed. "But yes. I've got some things keeping me moving forward at the minute. Even if forward's not exactly the best directions for the long term. Guess we'll have to find something else to substitute a purpose sooner than later."

"I'm sure we'll come up with something," Theta replied.

Washington stared after South as she calmly walked away and out of sight. "That woman is certifiable," he declared.

"Goddammit," Carolina growled, checking on the Director. "He passed out – and can someone turn that recording off! For fucksake."

"On it," a chillingly familiar voice answered her just before the screen behind them went blank.

His attention drawn back, Washington stared at Carolina as she made a quick tourniquet for the man at the center of it all and worked along with the very thing that had brought Washington to his knees in pain and fury and psychological overload.

"South is certifiable," he reiterated. "But she's also not wrong." He paused for a moment. "And was thoughtful enough to leave me a knee."

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" Carolina asked thickly.

"No, the truth," Wash answered, turning to her completely. "Though I guess that's something you're not so used to sharing, right?" When Carolina slowed but did not stop, Washington just let out a laugh and looked up, taking a deep breath. "I'm such an idiot… I… I was so happy to learn you were alive. I thought you had been left and forgotten, overlooked. I thought you had a reason to not come back. Unlike everyone else." He then looked to her. "But it's worse than that, isn't it? I thought I was alone. Recovery One, the only agent trusted to recoup the project's losses. The only living Freelancer who could be trusted to never stick one of those broken, damaged, barely reliable AI in my head. Well. I guess they were right on that account."

Carolina got to her feet, blood on her hands and gauntlets. She looked at Washington for a good long minute.

"You had Epsilon before," she pointed out.

"Briefly," Wash replied sourly.

"Then you… probably have a clue. You probably have… a feeling about what any of this means to me. What… having Epsilon with me could mean for me. More than anyone else ever possibly could," she explained.

"I want to hear you say it," Wash said. "He was in my head long enough to make me doubt everything I thought I knew about myself. Long enough that I spent a year putting the pieces back together… and still couldn't find out who I was until I got out from this program's thumb and started to truly live because of the people I met outside of it."

"Because of the sim troopers?" Carolina questioned.

"Because of the people," Wash corrected her once again. "Christ, Carolina, tell me you can see that – tell me you can hear the difference. There's real people involved here that have been hurt. And if that can't be acknowledged, if that can't be treated with at least the same levity as our own trials and tribulations, then we can't begin to pretend we're any better than him and deserve this so-called pass for our involvement."

Carolina looked at him utterly bewildered, but she didn't have an excuse at the ready either.

"You're right," she said. "I'm sorry. I'm… Wash, I'm sorry about a lot of things."

What she meant was, she was sorry that she hadn't seen his right to anger and vengeance and everything else either. He could almost accept it. Almost.

But they had a long journey before that.

"So are we going to… I don't know. Tie him up with something and carry him out?" Wash asked, looking over the Director.

"We could just wait for the officers of the UNSC to get here and give them our story," she said, crossing her arms. "It shouldn't take that long for that group outside to explain things to them."

Washington stared at her.

Carolina tilted her head. "What?"

"I… You honestly have no idea how ridiculous of a plan that is, do you?" he asked her, honestly baffled. Though, of course, he figured that what took him fifteen minutes to deduce about the Reds and Blues could possibly take longer for someone else.

They were outside of that canyon, after all.

"You don't think they could give a simple explanation to the UNSC?" she asked him. "And you're the last bastion of hope for recognizing the humanity in everyone else we've been overlooking?"

"Optimism and realism should not be conflated," Wash said dryly. "So what do you want? The shoulders or the legs?"

"Suddenly I'm realizing the evil genius that was South leaving before all of this was outsourced," Carolina said, grabbing the Director's shoulders.

"Tell me about it," Wash said, breathing a sigh of relief.

The sooner they got off the ship of nightmares and horrors, the sooner Wash could put it officially behind him. And the sooner that he could see those idiots of his and ask how the hell Tucker gave birth.

After that, a stern silence fell between them. It was almost too surreal to think of the moment as it was.

He and the leader he once thought was dead were carrying the man he might have hated most in all of the universe, alive, out toward the very military institution that he had felt for so long had turned their backs on him.

And while there was a rage of emotions swelling inside of him through it all, there was, at the center, a sense of calm thought. A hope and questioning that rested not on the facts of what he had lost and to who, and what would happen in the future that South had so terribly predicted.

Just his thoughts of who were waiting for him outside the ship.

And they were waiting for him outside of the ship.

"Wash! Thank fuck!" Tucker called out the moment their feet hit the snow. "Come answer some of these guys' questions, I have no fucking idea what's going on. And Caboose isn't any help."

Wash looked at the scene, the UNSC had arrived and they were looking less than thrilled.

Also Tucker was in handcuffs.

"Tucker, why are you in handcuffs already?" Wash asked dully as he lowered himself to the ground with Carolina so as to put down the Director.

"Well I figured I could save them for later," the trooper snarked back.

"Bow chicka honk honk," the tiny alien wrapped around Tuker's leg cooed.

Wash couldn't help but smirk behind his helmet. "I have… so many questions." He glanced over to Caboose and Church… or Church-Tex who seemed to be animatedly talking to themself. "Not the least of which is how that's coming along."

"You want the short version or the long version?" Tucker asked.

"It always ends up being the long anyway, doesn't it?" Wash asked, something solid and good feeling in his chest. Like he was cemented in the present no matter what was about to happen.

It felt like he finally had his anchors.

Watching the Director's back hit the snow felt alien and off putting to Carolina. It felt like more than simply his weight had fallen from her shoulders through the action, but she still couldn't put words to the sensation.

By the time she looked up, Washington had walked off. There was no doubt that he was still angry and resentful no matter the apologies. But more than that, he seemed to be gravitating toward the people he had befriended as well.

So much so that he didn't even seem to acknowledge that he was walking right past some UNSC military police.

"Is that…" one of them uttered in surprise.

"This is the Director of Project Freelancer," Carolina spoke up, waving her hand toward him. "Doctor Leonard L. Church. He is who the UNSC is looking for, correct?"

They looked at each other then back to Carolina. "He is…"

"I and my fellow soldiers here worked very hard to bring him down. He's a war criminal," she explained lowly. "We'll all be glad to answer any questions the UNSC may have, but I want it to be known that everyone here right now has worked in tandem to stop the Director and secure equipment from the program for the UNSC."

The other guard tilted his head. "You secured equipment for us as well? How? Did you have some sort of connection to the UNSC?"

"No, it was our job," Carolina explained. "I… Some of us are Recovery Agents. And we recruited necessary help from other soldiers in order to make sure that we could attain any UNSC property if possible. When the Director of Project Freelancer seemed to be working actively against that, we took action to make sure he was stopped."

"Sounds risky," the soldier replied.

"It was," Carolina answered. "But we are loyal to the UNSC. So I hope that you've been treating my compatriots well while we tied up this loose end for you."

They looked at each other again, then back to the aqua colored simulation trooper that Washington was talking to.

"Do we have to take the handcuffs off that one and the extremely violent red one?" they asked her.

"I… probably," Carolina said, earning long sighs from them both.

"Carolina!"

Surprised, Carolina turned.

She didn't know why it surprised her. It made sense, she had seen them just before she had gone back within the Mother of Invention. But somehow Carolina still managed to be amazed when she saw York and Niner not only there, still with her, but coming toward her.

After everything.

"Holy shit, it's over?" York asked eloquently, carrying Niner in bridal position as he slowed to a stop just a few yards from the Director and the UNSC officers walking toward the man.

"Holy shit it's fucking cold out here, how'd you convince me to get out of the tank?" Niner demanded, hugging her arms.

"Because you wanted to get over to Carolina but every time that tank so much as bobs its canon, the entire fleet of UNSC officers flip their shit?" York offered just before receiving a punch to his shoulder. "Ow."

"Don't be a smart ass," Niner warned. She then looked intently toward Carolina. "Are you okay?"

Carolina stared at them. "Yeah," she said. "I'm okay."

"Bullshit," Niner snapped. "Little computer fucker, get out here."

Reluctantly, Epsilon showed up over Carolina's shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Ae the both of you okay?" Niner repeated.

Epsilon looked warily toward Carolina then back to York and Niner. "Uh… define the terms?"

Niner let out an aggressive sigh and then waved Carolina closer. "Get over here," she ordered.

It wasn't as if anyone could object to a direct command from the woman. So Carolina came closer and soon enough both she and York were hooked together by Niner as she squeezed her arms around both their necks.

Carolina felt the other twos' foreheads resting against her own, and again for the second time that day, her vision blurred before she squeezed her eyes closed and swung her arms around both of them as well.

"Thank you for coming back," she said. "Both of you. I… Thank you."

"Sorry for leaving," York whispered under his breath.

"Sorry for staying," Niner muttered lowly.

"This… things are still different. Things… happened and I don't know how to deal with all of it," Carolina said, slowly backing away from the embraces. She looked at both of them. "I… There were a lot of truths said in that ship just now. Some of them harsh. Some of them could've served to be harsher. But they all made me realize that…"

"Made us realize that there's a lot of shitty things we've done to other people, on purpose or not," Epsilon picked up for her.

"I don't know if I can… I don't know if I'll be happy until I make some real work on the road toward good again," Carolina explained.

"Then you've got Jiminy and Cricket here to help wherever we can," Niner said waving to herself and York. "Y'know. So long as it's not things we've fucked up along the way, too. Like with Wash. We both have some headway on that one."

York just kept his gaze on Carolina. "Where do we start, Boss?"

"Well, I haven't spent much time around these guys," Carolina admitted, looking to the sea of colorful armors around them. "But from what I gather… We start by mingling. Something tells me we've got a long road ahead with all of these guys."

Turning to look around at everyone, York coughed. "Right… uhhh So I've already been assigned to Red Team?"

Both women looked at him.

"Just saying," York shrugged. "I don't know if I'm allowed to talk to Blues yet without being a turncoat–"

Niner punched his shoulder again. "You goofball."

"I'm partially serious!" he laughed.

Carolina shook her head and looked across, seeing where South and Wash had gravitated toward. They seemed like different people from the ones she knew, at least while they were out there with the Reds and Blues.

Even South seemed relaxed, maybe hopeful. Maybe her pessimistic outlook was not going to come to pass.

They could only hope. At least until they stumbled into the next bit of trouble.

Epsilon shifted shoulders in order to get Carolina's attention and made a production out of giving her a big shrug. "Eh, Red. Blue. Whatever side you choose, you'll have to deal with me on it with you, Sis."

"Sis?" Carolina asked with a quirk of her brow.

"Well, I can't call you Cee all the time, Sunshine," Epsilon replied.

"I guess not," she agreed. "I guess not."