Blood On Our Hands (Red vs Blue)

Jump

A/n: I know, I know. Odd timing for an author's note. But, I gotta say something before we start the chapter.

This chapter is actually going to be in third person POV, mostly because I wrote this right after writing a bit on Faith. My brain fucked stuff up, and I wrote quite literally half of this chapter in third person, and didn't want to go back and rewrite it in first person. Too lazy -_-

Anyways, Hope you enjoy the following chapter!

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Iowa took a glance at each of her teammates, her eyes jumping from one to another, barely enough time for any normal person to register anything about what they were looking at. She never said she was normal. Each 'side-by-side' pictured remained in her head for however long she needed it; her own perk that came to be useful on several occasions. A photographic memory has more than one use in the military, and her numerous jobs around and about it all.

Alaska. She couldn't tell what was going through his mind. He was quiet, too quiet, his eyes cast downwards and shadowed. His fingers drummed against his armoured knee, the tapping registering in her ears in a volume that could only be described as something much too quiet for a whisper. Maybe it was louder, she didn't know. The thoughts in her head seemed to drown it out.

Michigan. There was only one outward clue to deciphering what was going on through his head. His hands. They fidgeted together, wrapping around one another like two snakes. He drummed his fingers against the air, occasionally popping his fingers, skipping over his left index finger each time. She couldn't remember what had caused the injury, she just knew it wasn't too long ago... Or was it? Was it before cryogenic sleep? She can't remember.

Nevada. To most, she wouldn't seem any different than how she usually was, taking apart one of her favoured pistols and putting it back together again, over and over with more accuracy than what one would expect from a clumsy caffeine addict that's more twitchy than most realize. Iowa could easily see that there was something off with her posture. She, after all those years of working together, knew when something -maybe something incredibly tiny- was off. She wasn't sitting how she normally would; she was slouched, maybe not a full-blown slouch, but she kept her back straight, her posture right. Iowa could say the same thing for herself. One more thing that seemed to stick with them over the years, she guessed. Posture was one of such things.

CO and Montana. She couldn’t see many traces of stress on either of the other two women. They sat close together, talking in hushed voices, so quiet that even Iowa couldn’t hear a word they said. Iowa could pick up on a few ticks that they had. Twitchy fingers, tapping their feet.

There was a mental countdown running through each of their heads, counting down until it was time for lift off. It's not like they were given a surplus of information. They would have preferred that over the... nothing that they have. Scratch that, the very little they have. They have a few pieces of information; A brief -very brief- description of the forest-, and Hawaii's last known location before his armour's tracking system disappeared off the radar without a trace. Kansas had said that he didn't know when Hawaii disappeared, exactly, and that he never heard or saw Hawaii leave his side.

But, the question this nags at her mind, like someone prodding her with a wooden stick.

Was he really telling the truth about it all?

There's so many other instances that say otherwise. His fidgety behavior, the Engineers death, the breakdown that landed him drugged up and in a cell, then his unknown cause of death.

Does Hawaii have something to do with it?

Iowa rested her elbow on her knee head on her fist, the thought running through her mind time after time. It was a valid theory, one that couldn’t be pushed right off the board without any digging into the subject, right? Iowa gave an inward sigh, closing her eyes.  None of this settled right with her, the murder, Kansas’ death, the explosion, Hawaii’s disappearance. There has to be a missing piece of the puzzle, somewhere, somehow. Something that would connect each and every piece.

What had Kansas said before he attacked them?

Her ears started to ring before she could clearly think about what he had said, forcing the thought out of her head, and her eyes shut. Just like that, it was gone. The moment the thought left her head, the high pitched ringing –more of a whining-, disappeared, leaving behind only faint traces that it had been there previously.

She blinked furiously, trying to clear the traces form her mind. “What the…” She trailed off, glancing at Nevada. She couldn’t see the other woman’s face, but she knew that her partner knew that something was off. Nevada didn’t question it, not yet. Iowa knew she would, sometime or another.

“Everyone geared up and ready to go?” A male pilot said as he pulled himself up onto the pelican from the platform. His eyes, despite being hidden behind his helmet, skimmed across each of the six of them. He cleared his throat when none of them answered immediately, tensing his shoulders.

“We’re good to go,” Nevada eventually said for them, looking up from her pistol.

He nodded in her direction, releasing an anxious sigh. “Alright, team. I’m gonna be your pilot for now. My name is-"

Nevada held her hand up, her palm facing the pilot. "Introductions later. We need to move before we start getting restless. Not to be rude," She said, resting the hand that held the pistol on her knee, watching him for a few moments.

He cleared his throat once again, nodding in her direction. "Alrighty then. He walked passed the six Freelancers, avoiding their eyes as he did so. Iowa followed his line of sight to Nevada's pistol. She tightened her hand into a fist, sighing. The rumors must have already spread to him. Iowa shook her head from side to side, leaning back in her seat.

She traced the hinge of the medical kit attached to her belt. She didn't want a repeat of one of their past missions. It doesn't happen often... but, when it does, it's serious, most of the time. When they have good luck, they have it good. Usually minor injuries, or none at all if they're really lucky. But, when it comes to their bad luck... that's pretty self-explanatory in itself.

...

"You're gonna have to jump! No clear LZ around us!" The pilot called from the front, hovering a couple yards from the tops of the trees. Iowa strode to the edge, wrapping a hand around the bar attached to the inside of the pelican, leaning out to the point where she was only on the pelican by her toes. She couldn't even see the ground through the think, wrapping, branches and hordes of leaves.

No wonder Hawaii just... disappeared.

"Holy shit, that's a long drop," CO muttered, peering over the edge, keeping her feet firmly on the pelican.

"The trees will stop you. Hopefully," Nevada added quickly, smiling behind her helmet. CO cast her a glare, tightening  her hands around the bar. Iowa smiled at her, taking a step back away from the ledge, coming to a stop beside her partner.

"It would have been so easy to push you out," Nevada said with a light chuckle, casting a glance towards the woman beside her.

Iowa returned the chuckle, lightly punching her arm. "I'd just drag you down with me,"

"Assholes. Jump. Now," Alaska said, smacking the two of them on the back of their helmet, pushing past the two of them. Both of the women looked at each other, at Alaska's back, and chuckled lightly. Nevada counted down from three. The moment she reached 'one', the both of them grabbed Alaska, taking him over the edge with them.

CO choked when she heard the combination of Alaska's surprised yell, and Iowa's hysterical laughter. She moved away from the ledge, staring wide-eyed at the opening.

"No, no, no. Fuck that. Fuck all that,"

Montana and Michigan looked at each other and smiled. Each of them took one of CO's arms, forcing her to walk with them.

"Wha- wha- What the fuck are you doing? No! Fuck you and fuck you. Lemme go! Don't- I swear to god I will murder you in your--" She didn't get a chance to finish her sentence before she was off the ledge.