alifechasingghosts:

champsissy:

What if Carolina starts suffering from PTSD and gets flashbacks of York and missions before Tex in Season 11?

no stop i can’t handle that

The first time it happened was in the middle of the day, when she and Church were trekking through some long-abandoned military base — another site of simulated struggle. Carolina walked steadily, not anywhere near tired yet, thinking about where they would go next. Feeling calm. Church was being quiet, content to rest for the time being.

Her eyes passed over the mostly-barren landscape and caught on the rusted remains of a broken-down Warthog — and —

“Dammit, York, what the hell were you thinking?” Shouting, tasting blood in her mouth, watching it pour from the side of his neck — reckless fucking idiot, he’s sprawled out in the passenger seat of the Warthog and she’s parked them in some almost-alley so she can see what he’s done to himself.

“Whoa, Carolina, you okay?”

“I was thinking —” He coughs; there’s smoke curling thickly from the building behind them and he had the bright idea to shed his helmet. “—thinking you looking a little lonely out there under fire,” he finishes, grinning weakly. 

Carolina snarls a curse and calls for Four-Seven and something crashes behind them and she, she —

“Carolina! Hey! Wake up!” 

She stopped. Or — had she been moving before? Well, she was stopped now, her entire body tense and eyes fixed straight ahead at that Warthog. “What…” she mumbled, bringing a hand to her head and resting it briefly on the helmet visor. 

“I think you had…some kinda flashback,” said Church, materializing in soft blue beside her. “I mean, I would know, right?”

“Right,” said Carolina, not really paying attention. It had been so vivid; the warm blood, the quirk of York’s lips, the smell of the smoke…

“Hey, you okay? Look, you don’t wanna get stuck in a memory. I’ve tried it. Not as cool as it seems.”

“I’m fine,” Carolina muttered. She shook her head, then repeated more firmly, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, so, hate to be the guy who ruins the joke…but I’ve definitely heard that one before,” Church said.

 ”I like it better when you’re quiet,” Carolina said.

“Oh, ouch. Real offended here.”

They kept moving.

[RvB fic, York and Wash] Cold (or: Fanfic by Dr. Sappy McSappington)

[Notes: I was thinking AU where everybody escapes and they all live in some townhouse or whatever and York and Wash share a room but INVENT YOUR OWN CONTEXT!]

—-

York wakes up to find Wash in a shivering heap on the floor. He’s wrapped in at least five blankets, some dragged from his bed, some from the couch, and his teeth are literally, audibly chattering in such a bad way that York wants to find him ten more blankets.

York Climbs Stairs: A NOVEL? [york, wash, RvB fic, yeah]

York was walking up the stairs. Actually York was stumbling up the stairs, slowly, like he’d forgotten where exactly to place his feet. Or like he was analyzing where best to put them. He made his way to the top, then went back down in the same uncertain, calculating way, and he’d turned around to go back up again before Wash finally said something.

“York?”

York paused and turned his right eye toward Wash. “Oh,” he said, his voice coming out a little funny. “Hey, man.”

“Hey,” Wash replied. “Um…everything okay?”

“Yeah, sure, ‘course,” said York. “Just practicing.” He tapped at his left brow. “Stairs are…they’re kinda, y’know, messy now.”

“Oh,” said Wash, shifting his feet a little uncomfortably. “That’s right.”

“Left,” York said, his face suddenly lighting up with a dopey grin. “Actually it’s left, man.”

Wash brought his palm to his forehead. “Really? Really?”

The grin didn’t waver for a second. “Yep. Hey, I’ll race you to the top this time.”

“Um, no?”

“Readysetgo you’re losing!” York called, bounding straight up the steps.

Wash let out an exasperated “dammitYork” and went after him.

[RvB fic, Yorkalina, suburban AU] Somedays

[written to this song]

—-

Some days she wakes up gone, her eyes dull and voice stifled, and it’s all he can do not to wrap his arms around her and ask her to please wake up again, please really wake up this time. She pulls on one of his old hoodies and stays inside. She doesn’t even try to jog the gone-ness away, she’s so staggered by the day. And how it bends around her, how it feels like it will never let her go.

            He tries to make it all a little less rough at the edges. He makes her coffee in the morning with lots of milk and sugar, carries it to where she’s curled on the couch with the dog, staring out the window and looking empty. He turns the radio to her favorite station and he cooks breakfast. Later the three of them go for a walk, and he talks and talks and talks because sometimes that’s enough to chase the monsters from her head.

            She remembers her father, her mother, her endless guilt which comes in waves. She will not ask York for help, and sometimes she does not want him to give it. But he tries. He doesn’t know how to do anything else. 

RvB Prompt Response: Game Night [freelancers, a little dash of Yorkalina]

[I’m sorry, I only really know Halo out of that list — and even that I’m not well-versed in so there are gonna be inaccuracies (I basically only play the Assassin’s Creed games and Kingdom Hearts II) but I triiied! =D]

—-

A video game night had seemed like a great idea at first. Ideal, even. The others had seemed surprised when Carolina gave her vote of approval, but she didn’t see any reason not to. It was an excuse for everybody to get together, relax, and let off a little steam without breaking anything for once. They got two game systems set up, one for a game called Mass Effect and the other playing something called Halo. They’d divided themselves evenly between the two stations, with Maine, South, Wyoming, and CT over by Mass Effect, and North, York, Wash, and Carolina at Halo. It was all going pretty well until somebody handed York a controller.

            “Hey, Wash, hey,” he said, his player character zooming toward Wash’s base in a warthog. “Hey man, look, I got this jeep thing! You get in and I’ll drive and then we can go exploring and—”

            “York, we’re enemies,” Wash said patiently. “We’re supposed to be fighting each other.”

            York frowned at him. “But we’re friends.”

            “It’s part of the game, we’re supposed to…what are you doing?”

            “I dunno, drivin’ off cliffs. Hey look, I can do flips, check it out!”

            “You’re not following the rules!” Wash protested, his character running back and forth, trying to stay out of York’s way while he drove aimlessly off of things.

            “There are rules?” York said.

            Wash let out a distressed noise and Carolina stifled her laugh. York’s blatant disregard for the structure of the game continued for a good ten minutes before Wash finally lost patience. Carolina and North watched as Wash’s character snuck up behind a distracted York and shot him in the back.

            “Hey, wha— ouch,” said York, throwing Wash a puzzled look. The game lauded Wash for his kill as York’s character fell dramatically, and everything reset.

            Wash took off running straight away but York’s character just stood there; he had dropped his controller.

            “I don’t like this one,” he said. “This one’s no fun.”

            “Oh, come on,” said Wash. “You’re just not playing it right.”

            “You shot me in the back, man.”

            “I was following the rules!”

            “Yeah, well. This one’s no fun,” York repeated, and passed his controller on to North. He ambled over to Carolina as North and Wash began a much more fierce game.

            “You got any better games we can play?” York asked her. His mouth curved in a dorky grin, like he’d just realized the potential for innuendo in that sentence.

            Carolina glanced around the room — everyone seemed totally occupied, either in playing or watching. “Maybe,” she said, smiling. “We could check in my room.”

            The grin got dorkier. She hadn’t thought it possible, but there it was. Together they slipped out and down the hall.