Red Vs Blue-Impostor (Reader Insert)

Chapter 9- Them

A/N:

Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the long wait! I only recently learned that I'm moving to a different state, and I need to pack all of my stuff away. I had to mainly write this on my way to and from school. Here's an extra long chapter as an apology for my absence.

Hope you enjoy!

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*Your POV*

I was doing my routine perimeter checks around the canyon, being extra cautious of the area around Blue base, due to Freckles, when Sarge's voice echoed from our base. As he was calling for all of us, I begrudgingly began to make my way back towards him.

I arrived part way through the conversation, and managed to slip into the group mostly undetected, a nod from Simmons being the only indication that someone noticed my arrival.

Sarge, undeterred by my late entry, continued without stopping his train of though. "-unavoidable, Doc. Time to just admit you've got a natural-born pacifist lust for murder!"

I looked towards Simmons, hoping he could answer my silent question about what I just walked into, but all I got in response was an unhelpful shrug. Thank a lot, man.

"Ugh, why do I even bother?" Doc questioned himself. Pretty reasonably if you ask me, Sarge doesn't seem to understand what it's like to be a pacifist. Needless to say, I don't either, but I do respect Doc's decision to try and distance himself from all the violence of the universe.

And this is where Donut took his 'que' to join the conversation. "Oh, come on Doc, where's your sense of adventure? We're a bunch of strapping young men stranded in the wilderness. If that doesn't sound like a good time, I don't know what does."

Damn it, Donut, how do you not know how bad that sounds? Or how it could be misinterpreted?

"I'm starting to remember why I don't like you." Grif groaned, annoyed.

"It's just like camping. Who wants to help me pitch a tent?"

"Yep, there it is."

Sarge decided that this was a good time to reclaim the conversation, seemingly unfazed by the things Donut was saying. "Since landing in this god-forsaken hell hole, we've let Washington make all the decisions. And just look where that's got us; the Warthog is destroyed; we're running low on food; and Simmons is being held prisoner."

"Shit's pretty fucked." Grif summarised.

Sarge decided to ignore him, continuing on his rant. "It's high time that we took matter into our own hands. Red hands. The days of standing by while the blues do interesting and convoluted things are over!"

"Alright! It's our time to shine! Can I get a heck yeah?" Donut cheered.

"Hell no."

"Close enough!" It seemed that nothing could destroy his happy attitude today.

Sarge, finally, decided to tell us his plan. "What I'm about to propose to you men is in no way simple, smart, or seemingly possible." I scoffed at this. When was the last time we did something that seemed possible?

"Solid pep-talk so far, Sarge." Grif mocked him, receiving, yet again, no response from the man himself, except for the rest of the 'plan'.

"There's one thing in this canyon that has been the source of all our problems. If we're going to get outta here alive, we're going to have to eliminate it. Boys, we've got to kill Freckles."

It took all of my energy to not break down laughing at this. Does he really think that they can kill the Mantis?

"Uh, we don't know who that is. We just got here." Doc intervened, realising that everyone forgot about him and Donut. Again.