Chapter Text
Load. Aim. Shoot.
Head shot. A bit to the left of where he was aiming for. A curse runs through his head. He needs to be perfect he can’t miss he can’t let anyone else die. He can't be responsible for more deaths he just can't. The darkness that follows death is unbearable for him he can't take anymore of it. He wonders how Wash and Carolina got through so many deaths, deaths of the people they loved and held dear. He knew that they weren't okay 100%, but he wanted to know how they managed to look like they weren't always remembering or worrying.
Aim. Shoot.
He hasn't been sleeping well lately. Scratch that, he hasn't been sleeping at all. He can’t remember the last time he slept let alone slept well. Sleeping brings back the nightmares and he can’t think-. The nightmares they kept getting worse. He would dream about Junior and how he was possibly dead or captured. He would dream about Alpha and how his best friend had died. He dreamed about the Reds, Caboose, Wash, Carolina, hell he even dreamed about Epsilon. He dreamed about how they were going to eventually die. He dreamed about his old squad and of Cunningham and Matthews. They were dead and it was his fault. Of course having these nightmares meant having to be asleep and he rarely did that these days. Sleeping meant reliving those deaths and imagining the deaths of his team. His family. He couldn't keep doing that it hurt too much.
Aim. Shoot.
He turns the safety on and leaves the gun at the shooting station. He needs something more active, something to keep his mind entertained, something to get his thoughts off of everything that happened before Wash was captured. Before his family got separated. Before "Freckles, shake". Those two words, that one phrase had almost killed him. He screamed for Wash. But the rocks had already fell and Felix had grabbed him before he was crushed.
He heads towards the hand to hand combat area and pulls a dummy out into the arena. He gets into his stance and he feels those thoughts leave his mind as he begins to fight. Taking out his anger, his sadness, his helplessness into this dummy.
Punch block kick.
He keeps hitting the dummy over and over until the sweat gathering on his face begins to blur his vision. He uses his shirt to wipe it away and checks the time. 6 am. That's early enough to go for a run yet late enough to not make people look at him oddly. He heads back to his room to get into running shorts and shoes before leaving the building. He decides to run four miles before getting breakfast. He's already hungry but he just needs to run. He needs to keep his emotions at bay for awhile. He needs to just stop thinking and breathe. Breathing is the only thing he needs to focus on for the moment. Breathing. Breathe in and breathe out. It keeps him sane sometimes, stopping him from screaming at Wash or Caboose.
_-_-_-_
He comes into the dining hall a sweaty mess. Its 6:30 now. A few people are gathered at some of the tables but not many, it's still early. Most of the army is just now getting up and the rush wouldn't happen till 7. He grabs a tray and loads it with food. He’s hungry, not as much as he should be considering he hasn't had a full meal in almost three weeks. But he ignores that thought and instead grabs some silverware before sitting at a table. A few minutes after he sits down he sees the Freelancers- No Carolina and Wash, they are your friends now, theyareyourfriendsnow- walk in. They sit next to him and Church blinks to life above Carolinas shoulder before saying,
"Why the fuck are you so grumpy?" Fucking Church. He's always been an ass but Tucker swears he used to be less of an ass and a helluva lot more bitchy back in Blood Gulch- dontthinkaboutBloodGulchdontthinkabout-
"Its 6:30 in the fucking morning I have a right to be fucking grumpy. I mean look at you, you're always grumpy." They don't need to know that he hadn't slept at all last night. Well not enough, barely a half hour before he awoke from a nightmare about Junior.
"I had a busy night last night anyway. Bow Chicka Bow Wow." Washington groans from his seat next to Tucker.
"Isn't it a bit early to be making innuendos Tucker?" He just smiles and winks.
"It's never too early to make innuendos, Wash. Never." Wash placed his head in his hands after his ears turned a shade of red. Tucker smirked as Caboose, Doc, and the Reds sit down.
"Grif, how the fuck do you get such large portions. You're already a fatass and we have rations!" Simmons exclaims as Grif shovels his food into his mouth.
"Its a talent Simmons. A natural born talent." Throughout his words he never stops eating and Donut cringes at the sight.
"Manners, Grif, manners! We don’t want you to choke on something do we?" Donut exclaims. Tucker mutters a barely heard bow chicka bow wow. Barely being a key word, because Wash heard and he gently kicked Tuckers leg. Tucker smiled slightly, not enough for anyone else to notice but maybe Wash.
"Tucker why are there bags under your eyes? Church said that those are bad." Caboose exclaimed out of nowhere and Tucker froze. Thanks a lot Caboose. Thanks a fucking lot. Carolina turned to Tucker and so does everyone else, except for Wash. Wash had already noticed the bags and was probably going to question Tucker later.
"Tucker have you been sleeping? Sleeping is a basic human function and its bad not to get at least 7 hours of it every night, especially during a war!" Doc pipes up.
"I've been sleeping pretty well, maybe not 7 hours but you know the chicks all want a piece of Tucker-"
"Bull Shit. Like literally who here would sleep with you?" Church snickers and Tucker wishes he wasn't an AI because he’s really tempted to punch him right now.
"Hey! All the ladies want me! And maybe even some of the dudes if you get what I'm saying." He wiggles his eyebrows and there's a collective groan at the table. Wash kicks him sharply a sign telling him to shut up and take to the conversation.
"Tucker we're serious." Carolina manages to get a word in as the groans die down. "We are in the middle of a war right now and if you are not battle ready how can we put you in the field?" He almost clenches his fists because that's all he cares about right now, saving everyone and fighting this war because believe it or not he does actually care and he does have feelings. He just doesn't want people to know all of his feelings though. He's afraid that they'll push him away because of what he's thinking. Instead he just says what comes to his mind next. A lie he knows it, Carolina knows, Wash definitely knows it, and they'll talk to him later. Probably corner him along with Epsilon cause he was always around Carolina (for the obvious reasons).
"Its just the war, you know? Like we're all leaders now, us Reds and Blues and that pressure isn’t really relaxing. I'll sleep more though so don't worry about me. In fact, you should probably worry about Grif because he just ate more then what’s humanly possible to fit in a human stomach in less than 5 minutes."
Simmons and Doc turn to yell at Grif and Tucker started to laugh. He can feel the stares of Carolina and Wash boring into him. He just knows the two will not let this be the last of it, but for now he just sits there and eats. He can only hope that nobody notices that his hands are shaking. But a part of him knows that Wash see's his shaking hands. He wished for once that the ex-freelancer would do something. But he knows he won't. He's not even sure himself what they are, especially after they were reunited things sort of changed. But he doesn't really know and he's not really focused on that right now. He's more focused on his shaking hands and trying to even his breath.