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stareiiez · 4 years

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Flower Petals and Blood

𝐿𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝘩𝑢𝑟𝑐𝘩 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

Chapter 6

Word Count: 3.4k

𝑨/𝑵: HI! Hello, yes, it's me. I have updated with an even longer chapter for this ongoing series that you guys have really seemed to enjoy :D I’m happy for the support and love I’ve gotten!

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Graphic description of choking, perhaps vomit. Nothing too extreme for n o w, just good ole choking on some flowers.

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"What's your deal?" You complained, your feet were trying to plant on the metal flooring of the base and then on the ground when you were dragged outside the base.

Your voice was high pitched and annoyed, as you if you had every right to be a bit whiny towards another soldier. The black-armored clad female had dragged you from your doorway, leaving behind Tucker to talk to you in private. The sun beat down on to your bear head and already sweat was working its way to dampen the back of your neck and back itself. It seemed to only get hotter in Blood Gulch around 'summertime', you had a way of telling when the 'seasons' changed due to the slight difference in this area.

"Whatever you could have said, you couldn't have said in front of your other teammate." You bit out, as the grip on your wrist grew tighter. Oh right, you forgot to mention how she had held you by the arm like a child who was in trouble, then dragged you away. She should have just grabbed you by the ear and scolded you just to further add on to your embarrassment.

"This isn't about him, this is far from him. Who you do on your own time in none of my concern. He's not even my teammate, to begin with in the first place, I'm just hired to be here to replace Church's death." Tex stated, her hand had pulled you harshly forward as the two of you wandered behind the back of the Blue base.

How quick she practically threw you ahead of her had your head spin slightly as you fought to gain your balance against the quick moment of momentum. Was a conversation that serious that she had to be that bitch to pull you away from- .. from. Well, what did she step in on back there? Were you going to do something with Tucker? You couldn't even remember, the moment he set his hands on you. Your body burst into flames of heat and some tingly feeling that left your mind dazed beyond compare. You were on fire and he added more gasoline to the bonfire that screamed in your chest. He burned the bright petals away and let you live. Maybe you were just pent up and Tucker was your only scapegoat. Did you like him? Maybe. He was good-looking, funny when he wasn't talking about his dick, and caring. He worried over your condition and in that one spare intimate moment, you could feel the ache in your lungs. He made you feel, normal. Tucker made you feel something other than pain and for one painstakingly moment as the world around you spun. Maybe he was something you needed in your life.

"Something is off about you," Texas spoke once you gained your bearings, her voice brought on that itchy feeling to your chest. Her voice was nails on a chalkboard and that yanked you out of your glazed over attention.

‘Gee Tex, as if puking up petals wasn't off enough. What do you want? A fucking billboard so you can see it easier instead of looking down at me from your god damn high horse named Church?' You thought to yourself.

Acid burned in your throat as you bit down on your tongue. You swallowed the sharp acidic tang that tried to push its way past your teeth in word vomit or actual vomit. Your breath left in a quick rush of air once your gazed turned to cast the female an actual agent of the nearly forgotten Project; and you. You were just someone that knew everything about the agents, everything the Project stood for. You could spill your guts to the public, to cover what the media didn't when the Director went into hiding. You didn't hate Project Freelancer, no you loved the stories that you heard about them. You loved and looked up to the war criminals as if they were Earth's do-gooders who saw no wrong and weren't manipulated into thinking they were better than anyone. Captain Flowers even told you of his past, of him faking his death to get into this particular simulation group under a new persona. He was dedicated enough to sell his soul for Project Freelancer, and by god did that organization let him down coldly.

He was crazy. his sanity gone and down the drain, the Project fell. He was all smiles and sadistic chuckles when everyone he ever knew or cared for was shown up as MIA or KIA. His sanity was gone and switched out for episodes that he was either way too friendly that it was uncomfortable, or for others that were a bit too bloodthirsty for a canyon group of idiots. He wasn't Agent Florida, he was some other man that filled that husk and took his job with the biggest grain of salt in the salt shaker.

You just hated her. Hate was a strong word, but she was just another manipulation that was conned by the Director. She didn't have to come back, she didn't have to be here and have Church wrapped around her pink finger, but she did. Church was hardwired to chase after her, he was destined to live out the Director's love through another robotic AI copy of her. You were just here on the sidelines to watch it play out and choke to death on some fucking made-up disease. Why do you need to be the one to tell her your whole fucked up one-sided love triangle fiasco when it's obvious she is here to just intimidate her.

Like some twisted female Alpha, she wants to make sure you don't fuck with what's hers. If it's possible to give hickies and blow an AI you'd gladly track Church down and make it happen as long as she sees it. The itchy feeling bloomed slowly back in your chest, your breath stuttered just slightly in your lungs. It was starting to hurt, the itchy feeling was moving upwards, like vines of a rose garden and twinning themselves through your organs. It's sharp thorns digging into flesh and tissues.

"Well?" Tex states, her arms have crossed over her onyx chest plate. Her head tilted to assess your unarmored form, and you swear she's grinning under the visor.

"It's just a head cold." You gritted out, the lie slipped through by the skin of your teeth, the truth was biting and burning on your tongue. The acidic taste rolled on your tongue, and it was harder to swallow this time around.

There was a scoff, from the other. Texas stared at you, her gold emotionless visor was staring you down. It was like she could see past the wavering lie you had hastily said to force her to be on her way. The silence growing between you two was nothing but uneasy, and your mouth burned with the sensation to double over and puke. You wouldn't mind spilling your guts, literally, on her polished black boots before you even amused her further. You needed to throw up, petals or liquid you couldn't tell this time around, whatever Texas was staring at, you wanted her to hurry up and move on. Your upper lip quivered as another beat of silence passed and she finally broke eye contact.

"I'll just go ask Church, you two seem to be.... way more comfortable for a teammate." One finger pointed accusingly at your face.

Your lips curled up at her words. "what's that supposed to mean?"

Tension sizzled, tightened, wound around your throat, and warmed your red blood cells that coursed through your veins as Tex didn't hesitate to reply.

"Church isn't smart, he's see-through." A snort escaped your mouth, one you couldn't help to not hold back. Yeah, no shit, he's see-through, he's not even a fucking real person.

With a glare you could feel penetrate through the golden, emotionless visor Tex continued. "He likes to hang around you, he's less of an-"

"Asshole?" You quipped.

"I was going to say absolute dumbass of a dick, but that works too if you want to be basic." She sighed, "Look, for some reason Church likes to hang around you. He rants, I hear him rambling and somehow cussing you out across the damn canyon. He's loud enough for even the dead to hear." *Ha, funny.*

"And this is supposed to make me blush?"

"I'm saying that whatever is going on between you, friends, you're screwing each other or whatnot. I'll find out what's happening with you, so watch your back." Bored with conversating over an Ex of hers, and whatever the hell kind of frequent one night stand hookup partner, The Bitch in Black sauntered away with the confidence that she was so sure of herself.

Once she had rounded around the base and was, hopefully, out of earshot, you wheezed hard. Lungs ached and trembled as a sharp pitched exhale left. Stabs of hot knives sliced at warm, soft, fleshy, sacs of skin that shrunk and grew behind your ribcage. The world blurred in watery colors, and small tears pricked and warmed your cheeks as they slipped down your skin. You didn't choke on petals, it felt fuller in your throat. The object bulged in your throat and tickled your trachea. Velvet petals, earthy tasting that made you gag and try to swallow whatever was temporarily blocking your air passage. You couldn't gag, couldn't possibly cough hard enough to even move the blockage more up to the back of your mouth. You were choking to death, and you were pretty sure you looked like an absolute mess or more while balancing in the brink of death.

With another choked gag, you fell to your knees on the dusty ground and then flung your whole body crashing down violently on the sun-baked ground in desperation. The sudden jarring and slam of your stomach on the floor, shoved the last few puffs of sweet oxygen and carbon dioxide gave the gentle shove of the object. Petals tickled your uvula, and you nearly clamped your mouth shut in repulsion. It wouldn't bug, no amount of even throwing up or coughing would make it move anymore. You'd have to shove your fingers down your throat to free your airflow yourself.

A trick, one stupid college tale your best friend told you before you shipped out for the military, was tucking your left thumb into your fist and squeeze. Strong, weak, or no gag reflex you couldn't give a damn. Not taking the chance to puke your guts out and more from just putting your fingers to the back of your throat was undesirable. Squeezing your eyes shut, your pointer and thumb of your right hand ventured into your mouth. Your lungs burned, and your body shook in rebellion from having another thing added to your mouth. It was easier to fully grab the petals that constantly brushed against your uvula, they didn't tear off as you slowly pulled whatever was choking you to death or unconsciousness. Your left thumb popped in the ever-tightening grip of your fist as you retracted your hand from your mouth and pulled whatever you were holding between your pointer finger and thumb.

Air, precious, hot, sweet, cold, burning, dry air rushed and skimmed down your throat as you finally inhaled. Your passageway was clear, and you could breathe properly. You still trembled and shook with small gentle coughs that came from your oxygen-deprived deflated lung sacs. Your eyes opened against the small tears that still flooded your pupils. With your hand now relaxed, it wiped your gaze clear and you finally turned to what was damp and hanging limply in your grasp.

Against the bright sunlight, you nearly let out a sharp gasp that stretched your already sore lungs to hurt even more. There color of periwinkle blue, with a bright golden center that was small and dusted with pollen. Pollen that dusted your lips and tasted like strong, musky Earth, and a sick, oddly sweet aftertaste inside your mouth. You couldn't tell the type of flower that was shining from the saliva that coated its once open spread petals. Thank god the single flower did not have a stem, it was just the head of the flower.

You never produced full flowers, let alone formed ones before. Small petals, large petals, oddly shaped or clumped together was what you had puked or coughed up for at least two or three days. Now your disease was progressing for the worst, and you weren't sure if your body could keep up. Eyes, wide as saucers you kept the soft flower in your fingers, too afraid to gently cradle it in your open palm. You had managed to push your weight up to your knees, then onto your feet slowly after a minute or two of gaining your strength.

Your feet carried you before you could even see where you were going. It's not like you needed to, you knew the ins and outs of this god damn canyon like the back of your hand. You mapped this desolate place since the first week you ever got stationed in the Blood Gulch Canyon. You were mindlessly walking fast, as fast as you could without tripping on the uneven ground. You were heading to Red Base, Doc could still be there. He didn't hang around Blue Base as much after Sarge claimed the purple medic as Red Team's own reluctantly. "Numbers over insubordination." was what Sarge always said, when he had begrudgingly allowed Doc to enter the Red Base that day of the exchange between Blue Team and Red Team. It was humiliating for Grif, and just sad for being desperate to get what Blue Team wanted the most.

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"Doc!" You nearly screamed as you stumbled into Red Team's Base, the flower still dangling and threatening to crumple in the tightening grip of your hand.

Your voice rang out and nearly caused Sarge to fire a warning shot near your head from the sudden panic that racked his body. He only had raised his shotgun at you, but how frail you looked and near on the edge of collapsing to the ground from exhaustion; he lowered his gun.

"What are you doing here? You Blue?" His gruff voice didn't stop as you merely cast the older man a brief look while venturing a little more into Red Base.

Sarge, Grif, and Simmons were all in the Base's kitchen. Random weapons were laid out and disassembled to be cleaned probably by Sarge and Simmons. Grif was scrounging around, opening cabinets and snooping around the crappy fridge for any type of food to snack on for probably the seventh time in the day.

"I- I need Doc, he's... he's supposed to see this." Your voice was quiet, trying to sound steadfast even though your breaths were sounding airy and wheeze like.

Your hand outstretched, the periwinkle colored flower was now dry and started to crumple its sad, wilted petals inward.

"A? flower?" Grif asked, his voice full of confusion as he looked at you long enough to take in your disheveled state that held the flower.

"It's not just a-" You exhaled tiredly, clearly not in the mood to spill the dirt of your disease to yet more people who had an even higher risk of accidentally blurting out your secret to Church.

Simmons was too honest, Grif would 'accidentally' give you away without even thinking about it, and Sarge would be more than happy to prove Church wrong if the male were to assume anything about you. Sarge would expose your secret in the process, and then somehow blame your Blue ways for having this disease in the first place.

"Just, where is Doc?"

"He's in his room down the hall." Grif scoffed before turning his attention to the fridge, his top half-hidden behind the dirty white fridge door.

"Grif! You can't just tell the enemy where our men are." Sarge scolded immediately, Grif only made a grunting noise before bending down further to reach towards the back of the fridge.

Before Sarge could make any more threats, or begin to even start to for that matter, you grabbed the withering flower and ventured further into their base. Sarge's voice was growing quieter the more you walked down the surprisingly long bedroom hallway. The army, the UNSC or Project Freelancer, must have thought a lot more people would be so willing to be stationed in the most desolate places with nothing to do but play a long game of capture the flag. Oh, how wrong the Army was to even waste money to even have that idea.

Finally, what you could guess was Doc's room. Especially since smooth jazz music was pouring out from behind the closed door, and you could even hear the cheery humming of the male with the calming beat. It felt bad for you to even knock on the steel door and interrupt whatever he was doing in his room, but you could say sorry later after you updated Doc about your disease. The volume of the music was lowered, and you could hear Doc say 'It's open!'.

"Doc?" You mumbled, once you tentatively opened his bedroom door.

Random posters of cheesy uplifting quotes, colorful little post-it's of self-esteem cheer up notes were plastered haphazardly among the posters that were glued to his walls. Typical Doc, for someone so bullied and teased from both teams, he managed to decorate his room the way he would want to make him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. He was hyping himself up every day, and that was the most precious thing you could witness. Not everyone here was in the mindset to think the way Doc thought about themselves. Doc could perhaps go crazy and yet some part of his mind was so hardwired in positivity, that he could still find good things to say about himself.

"Oh! I didn't expect to see you here!" Doc spoke up once he registered you were standing in his room. He smiled warmly, glasses that sat on his nose tilted slightly from the movement of his cheeks.

"Well I'm your only real patient right now with a life-threatening disease, I would think you would expect me." You could have winced at the dry joke you were forced to crack to not ruin the welcoming environment in his room. "Speaking of disease, Doc I have something to show you."

"Good or bad." The male rose his pointer finger to push the clear frames more upon his nose and plopped down on his bed to sit. His hands folded in his lap like a good listening student in elementary school. Except this was a sick version of show and tell in a fucked elementary school.

"Well.." Your hand outstretched and showed the other the flower in your hand.

It stunk of a now sickeningly sweet smell, even if it was wilting and sad looking now more than ever. The periwinkle blue colored remained bright and vibrant, but the very ends of the petals were turning into the brown color that signified its slow process of decay. The smell was new, but then again maybe it was just the stench of Red Base itself. Maybe either base smelt different, but that would be a dumb observation.

"It's a Morning Glory, its.. pretty?"

Your eyes widened from Doc's observation. "Doc, are you kidding? I've never produced whole ass flowers before! and you want to tell me the type of flower it is! Are you still fucking kidding?"

"You're right! You're right I couldn't help myself." Clearing his throat, Doc leaned forward and plucked the head of the flower from your open palm. He held the flower close to his eyes, nose wrinkling from the scent practically smacking him in the face from how nauseous it was making him feel.

"This is the first time you've ever produced right?" You nodded, and Doc hummed under his breath. One eyebrow cocked in question as he stared at the flower. Curious fingers pulled at the petals and rubbed them between his thumb and forefinger, now and then making a noise of acknowledgment.

"Well, the disease is getting worse, it's progressing way faster than I thought it would. Good news, you won't choke on stems yet, just fully formed flower heads."

"That means?" You asked,

“It means you're well on your way to dying."

"Wha- Doc!"

"What? You asked."

You guffawed at the man who seemed stoic for once, he seemed so calm as a sudden rush of panic racked your brain and nearly left you screaming internally in your subconscious.

"Listen I'm serious when you need to actually talk to Church about this, or else this is going to be the end of you."

In the middle of you silently screaming and perhaps trying to hold together your sanity long enough to not break down screaming in front of Doc, in the Red Base no doubt. A third presence in the room made your spine curl inwards, and the acidic taste of sourness flooded your mouth.

"Tell me what?" Church asked when he materialized in the room, his see-through form that was hinted in the same color of the Morning Glory that was cradled tenderly in Doc's hand.

Now you had another reason to hate flowers, their colors reminded you of Church.

#rvb #red vs blue #rvb church #rvb sarge #rvb grif #rvb doc #rvb x reader #red vs blue reader insert #leonard church #dexter grif #doc dufrense #richard simmons #female reader x rvb #church x reader #leonard church x reader #fp&b #flower petals and blood

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stareiiez · 4 years

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Mephistophelian Summer

Chapter 1.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟚.𝟡𝕜

𝔸/ℕ: Hello, Hello! <3 Tonight at 1:11 am I bring you the first chapter of my horror au! There’s no horror going on right now, it’s just setting up the basis for the reason why and where the horror of this fic takes place.

Warnings: Cursing and Foul words, that’s about it!

𝑀𝑒𝑝𝘩𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝𝘩𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑛: adj: showing the cunning or ingenuity or wickedness typical of a devil; also see: devilish; diabolic; diabolical; mephistophelean; evil.

The ticking of the bell that hit 11:30 am, it seemed the clock's noise rang in Tucker's mind louder than the students' chatter and laughter that rang in his classroom. His head was propped up on both of the palms of his hands as his dark brown eyes narrowed in on the white clock's face. It seemed like the large and small hand of the clock seemed to move slower than normal, just because it was prolonging the students of Vallahala High. Summer would begin right when the clock would strike noon, and the early release would grant sweet sweet freedom for the next three months of blissful vacation. Tucker couldn't help but grin at the plan that was forming in his head-on just how he would spend his summertime. Unlike most of his peers would get summer jobs to save up money, Tucker would be wasting his time with his group of friends doing everything and going anywhere he wanted without a care in his world.

A smooth grin spread over his lips as his eyes got a little hazy from his daydreams. It wasn't until his summer daydreams were ruined by the vibrating phone in his jeans back pocket. The bright cellphone screen lit up with multiple messages from the group chat him and his friends had created a few years back. In this chat, conversations ranged from absolute chaotic mindnumbing interactions to the dissecting every little thing about their lives and beyond their home planet. Usually, Grif would insinuate these conversations when he would smoke two or three joints and spam the group chat with his otherworldly conversations.

His phone screen lit up from already ten or more messages from the said group chat. Without care, Tucker settled back into his seat and unlocked his phone. The teacher didn't care, it was the last day of school and they too might be counting down the minutes for summer vacation. Until next week when they would go back to teaching some poor sorry sap of students that didn't manage to pass both fall and spring semester with the best grades in the world. Thank god his future goal major wasn't education.

Fellow Delinquiants, and Dick and Carolina.

11:37 am Dickhead 1: So what's this about some big summer plans?

11:37 am David: Summer plans? I was applying for that summer job you know-

11:39 am Stoner McGee: Work? During freedom? You make me tired.

11: 39 am David: Well... Carolina is getting a summer job with me too-

11:40 am Tucker: BOOOOO you both suck ass

11: 40 am Tucker: Listen assholes, there's no work this summer; because we are going camping.

11:41 am Redhead: We are doing what?

11:43 am Tucker: Relax, I'll let you all in on my plan when we get out of this hellhole.

11:46 am Dick: The outdoors seems fun!

11:48 am Sis: Camping? Are you on crack Tucker?

11:49 am Donut: If we're camping I vote on bringing food!

Well, at least some people were on board with the idea. Before he could read any more group text messages Tucker slipped his phone back into his pocket and sighed contently. This summer was going to be the best thing to happen to him in a while. Ever since he concluded that he was for sure graduating next year, and a few of his friends had already planned their future that didn't seem to involve him, it was starting to sound shitty. Call him a pussy, or bully him but he had abandonment issues. He hated being alone or being left behind, that's why most of his time was at least spent with at least his group of friends or at least one of his friends. He needed to feel secure and safe, and by god did they make him feel like he had a second family. This summer was the last summer he could spend normally without the stress of college looming over his shoulder, or friends coming and going. He wanted to have fun and take charge of the rest of his youth before it was forever locked away in the state of some four-year hell of education so he can get a job.

Once the clock finally hit 12, Tucker had sprung up from his seat like something struck him. His backpack was slung over his right shoulder and he all but ran out of the classroom along with the other excited students. Papers were flung in the air, and screams and chatter filled the air. Notebooks were flung, textbooks were thrown in the trash and homework filled binders were torn apart. The papers scattered and fluttered through the air in a victorious motion. Tucker jogged through the halls, his body weaving through bodies and moving fluidly with the masses of people who were making their escape through the school's front doors.

The large wooden doors were flung open and the ruckus filled the open air, classmates ran all over. Some made their ways to their cars, some stuck around to say goodbye to their friends, or others sprinted into the aligned school buses that awaited to take them home for the last time in the school year. The bright sunny, noon air shined upon Tucker as he inhaled his first noseful of fresh air. 'Ah freedom, so that's what it smells like.'

A content sigh slipped past his lips while he leaned back against the school statue of its mascot. One large puma that has it's back arched and teeth bare. They just changed to the Pumas after some big back and forth argument in the school district of Blood Gulch High should accept and appreciate their mascot if it was a warthog. The school cringed as well as the student body when they first found out that their school teams were about to be known as the Blood Gulch Warthogs. They wanted to be feared and at least have some kind of ring to it, so the school board decided on naming Blood Gulch, The Blood Gulch Pumas. It was pretty stupid to argue over some type of animal that resembles their school if it was up to Tucker. This highschool reminded him of chihuahuas. All talk and not enough bite.

"Hey man." A male voice spoke up before Tucker could bask in his summer freedom for a little longer. The male tilted his head to greet the new presence, and couldn't help but grin.

David 'Washington.' stood before him. All dark brown hair, with the blonde dye that was accenting the tips of his spiky hair. The blonde dyed tips were part of a half tipsy dare at the beginning of the junior year and Carolina had managed to do a decent job in dying his hair correctly. Wash, at first nearly died at the sight of his new hair. Then slowly for a week he slowly accepted the blonde accenting the dark brown of his natural hair color. Even his parents thought it looked nice and even joked that he should go full blonde, something that Wash had somewhat considered but never went through with it yet. He casually slipped the second strap of his backpack over his left shoulder, and his large palms grasped the two straps contently.

"Where's the rest of the guys?" Tucker asked once he reciprocated his greeting to one of his best friends.

"Carolina is dragging Church here since I'm sure Allison is trying to shove her tongue down his throat by now. Grif is going to drive his little sister home and then meet up with us with Simmons, Donut, and Frank."

"Why exclude Sis? She's always the life of the party." Tucker frowned.

A small scoff as a shy grin slipped over David's lips, "Please? Her? She's that and a whole ass hurricane."

"Exactly why she's invited with us to these summer plans of mine." Tucker grinned, a little more cooly than needed.

"Right, what kind of plans are we-"

"Hey! I said I'm going goddamnit!" Another voice cut in, this one pitched up higher in distress as a few grunts left his lips.

Both males tore their attention away from each other to watch a fiery redheaded girl grab a dark-haired male by the back of his shirt towards the two. The dark-haired male's arms were flailing about as he fought to keep up with the long-legged strides that the redheaded female took to meet the two boys.

"I can walk on my own, you know?! You're embarrassing me." The male hissed as the female finally unhanded him, her long pale arms crossed over her chest as her nose lifted slightly in the air with a huff.

"Really? Seems like you couldn't walk straight after you seemed to be having your soul sucked out of you by the blonde bitch." The girl growled back, anger set in her bright green eyes.

"Told you," Wash whispered to Tucker, making the other snort with amusement. It was cut short when the green-eyed gaze was sliced over to the two instead, silencing any ore commentary about her little brother.

"Just because you're only 30 minutes older than me, does not mean you can just drag me anywhere." The dark-haired male huffed more, he stood up straight and fixed the black-framed glasses on his nose. His duller green eyes were narrowed in a glare at his sibling.

"Church always glad to see you," Tucker commented, his eyes swept over the pasty-skinned male. A shit-eating smile took over his features as he caught the smear of dark red covering his entire mouth and one place on his neck. 'My man.' Tucker thought slimly.

"Hey, Leonard you got a little.." Wash spoke up, his finger pointing to his mouth. A small blush adorned his freckle splattered cheekbones and nose, his eyes quickly averting when realization dawned on the other's face.

The smear of the lipstick only colored the redhead's face in a little more irritation than necessary. The tension hung over the four heads, and with Carolina nearly on verge of bringing all hell loose to her little brother and his girlfriend. Wash cleared his throat and shot Tucker a look, one that had Tucker shoving his hand in his back pocket and fishing his car keys out

“Let's get some lunch fuckers." He said, returning Wash's look, and lead the three to his car.

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Slim's Pickens, a dinner that has better food than its cursed name, had the best food in probably the whole town. The radio station lulled in the background of the diner. Chatter, silverware clinking against plates was comforting in a way, this one diner had the aura of 'Welcome Home.' and that was one of the reasons why it was the group's favorite spot to hang out at. Tucker had his feet propped up on the chair next to him as he scrolled on his phone, his eyes scouring through a few text messages he sent to Grif. He had been pestering and frankly pissing off his friend, to get the rest of his friend group to the diner. He was too impatient to lay down his big summer plan. With a groan, Tucker shut his phone screen off and tossed his head back over the chair's back.

"What is it with you today? You're so jumpy and you practically shoved us into your car." Wash commented, his gaze was on Tucker for a while now. He was watching the impatience grow more and more on Tucker's features, and it only made him snort in amusement.

"You nearly hit seven cars on your way here, and nearly ran through two red lights," Carolina added, her head was propped up on her hand and a single eyebrow rose in judgment.

"You will know when the other idiots are here." Tucker huffed, his eyes roamed over to Carolina. The once pissed off look on her face from her little brother was far gone, thanks to her practically forcing him to clean off the marks and lipstick stains Tex had left on his face.

"Well if you're going to play the waiting game, I am going to order something to eat." Carolina hummed, before picking up the menu and leaned over the table to David. Their chatter over what sounded better to eat, or certain prices.

20 minutes later, a clean Church, and plates of fries and other items of food that was placed before the four; Grif, Sister, Simmons, Donut, and Frank Dufrense had joined them. Finally.

"Alright, asshole tell me why you nearly made me get in a car crash from all your stupid texts," Grif said as he plopped down in the chair in front of Tucker. He didn't hesitate to steal a curly fry from Wash's plate and shove it in his mouth. His dark eyebrow rose as he chewed.

Tucker frowned before answering. "I already figured out what we are going to do this summer."

"If you're bringing up that camping trip-"

"Yes I am bringing it up, come on! It'll be so fucking great. Us, a private lake, privacy, alcohol. All the works!"

"Woo! Par-tay! Let's get it!" Sis cheered, her hands flinging up in the air as an excited grin split across her lips. Her eyes sparkled at the thought of getting shit-faced and puking her guts out in the crystal clear lake; then go skinny dipping in the waters at the dead of night.

"Oh no, the hell you aren't! No parties! You're three years younger and so underage." Grif bit out, his gaze fixed on his sibling that was sitting at the far end of the table right in front of Carolina. His voice ruining the enthusiastic expression on Sister's face.

"You're not my mom! Don't tell me what to do!"

"I'll kick your ass like our mom, I'll break my lazy rule of not doing shit just for you."

"Where exactly are we going to go do this if we agree?" Simmons pipped up from beside Grif.

"A place I always camped at with my Dad during the summer. It's called Tahoe Wood but I call it paradise."

"Tahoe Wood? You mean as in that endless fucking woods that most people get lost in Tahoe Wood?" Church commented, his voice sounding not too pleased in the slightest.

"You have me as a guide, come on I know that place like the back of my hand." Tucker scoffed.

"I am just brimming with confidence that nothing shitty will happen to us."

"Hey! Fuck you man!"

"Tucker, how long are we going to stay there?" Frank "Doc" cut in before Tucker or Church could further curse each other out in the diner.

It's happened at least once or twice, and each time the two were escorted outside by the waiters and left outside to cool off. They were allowed back inside once they at least said sorry to each other. They were treated like little kids for being in high school, but it came from a place of fondness. The employees all came to know the friend group well since they used the diner to hang out and eat almost once or twice every week.

"One week tops, think of it as a 'fuck you school' getaway." Tucker shrugged, his eyes watched as Grif stole a few more fries from Wash's plate. How the dyed blonde male didn't scold the other from stealing his food away more than once was a shock. "When are you and Carolina getting those summer jobs?" Tucker asked Wash.

"Sometime in the second week of June." Wash glanced at Carolina for confirmation.

"Since it is the last week of May, let's do this shit! Come on! Start the summer with a fucking bang!" Tucker pleaded, the palms of his hands smacking the table in the emphasis of his words. Plates clanged and silverware rattled from the vibrations, the noise drew several eyes of customers that were contently eating to glance over at the group.

"If we agree to this stupid trip will you shut up?" Church hissed, his eyes darting to the customers in the diner then back to Tucker. His pale green eyes were sharp and slightly cold as a wave of annoyance washed over his features.

Only when Church was pissed, annoyed, or just slightly miffed he looked like Carolina. He was the spitting image of their father, just like Carolina was a spitting image of their mother. Except Carolina had dyed her naturally blonde hair a fire engine red when she turned 16 and kept it red from since then on.

"Yes," Tucker said, rather smugly.

"Then yes! Now shut up."

"Hey! You don't speak for the rest of us. Camping sounds boring, and tiring work." Grif complained.

"Grif, shut up! I'm not going to hear Tucker complain for another hour about this trip. You go, or my sister is kicking your ass to Tahoe Wood and back!" Church hissed under his breath.

Well at least Tucker was satisfied, he would simply grin to himself as Grif bickered with Church. The two were bent over Carolina and Simmons that were sitting next to them. Donut and "Doc" were frankly content on conversating and adding in friendly banter to the swelling argument between the two males. It didn't help that both Grif and Church would yell at Donut or Doc to 'shut up and butt the fuck out' before going back to their argument.

This is going to be the best vacation ever.

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