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Come on, Carolina

Chapter Text

“Hey, uh C? I have something you might wanna see.” Wash poked his head up from the other side of the filing cabinet gesturing to the drawer in front of him.

“Is it a lead on where Mass could’ve gone?” They were searching the last known location of the former agent Massachusetts trying to find a clue as to where the rest of the Freelancers had vanished to. Massachusetts was not an organized person. It seemed that they had kept every single hard drive, notebook data-chip and lunch receipt from their time as a freelancer. No wonder they were never trusted with higher level secrets.

“... Noooot exactly.” Wash held up a data chip from the drawer. It was a little older than the average chip and had a hot pink sticky note pasted to the front reading “For Carolina???? (Isn’t she dead??)”

“Is it... a trap?” She wondered aloud. “Why would Mass have that? Why would they keep it? Where did it come from?”

“We could find out? Maybe they wrote it down somewhere?” He said digging through the rest of the drawer. “Aha!” He produced an ancient laptop and a USB chip reader. “We can plug this in and see what happens!”

It took a while to boot up the old thing, find a power cord for it, guess Massachusetts’s password (it was “p455w0rD” and written on a sticky note stuck on the underside of the desk), but eventually they had the file open. There was a text file titled “Label” and a folder titled “Delta and Carolina’s Shit” on the chip. Wash cut a questioning look at the agent on question.

“I have no idea what it could be.” She opened the text file.

«Yo this is the data file Delta sent to like. Most of us? To hold onto for Carolina he said. I dunno what it is but I’m too scared of her and like York too much to open it so I will just hold onto it until I get a memo from Delta to do something with it. Wonder why it wasn't for Wash... EDIT: so like. Carolina killed York and then Maine threw her off a cliff? The official statements say they died in the line of duty but Freelancer gossip has always been more reliable and states otherwise. I’m gonna keep this tho. I dunno why. I just. I know he sent it for a reason and i dunno if I can bear to trash it yet. I’m not gonna open it, even though it’s not like they’d know. Seems disrespectful. Maybe someday I’ll give it to a new Carolina or some shit.»

“Delta? Why would Delta send a data file for you to everyone? Why did Delta have this file? What’s on it?” Wash looked at Carolina who was staring at the screen as if the disk had a ghost stored instead of some files.

“I don’t. I don’t know what it could possibly be.”

“Did Delta leave a message? Should we open the file?”

“Yes. Let’s... lets do that!” She tried to sound sure but ended up sounding alarmed.

The “Delta and Carolina’s Shit” folder contained two files. Another text file entitled “Agent Carolina- Read me” and a folder entitled “Memories”.

“So should we listen to Delta?”

“Yes.”

«Agent Carolina- Things in the near future seem uncertain, even to me. York is very worried about you. He has strong emotional attachments to you even after recent events. I am not much one for hope or sentiment, but he is. He has a collection of files with great sentimental value. He cannot, or perhaps just will not, share them with you. I know that if anything happens to him it is statistically probable that these files will be wiped. Perhaps I am growing sentimental, but I do not feel that such a fate would be advisable for these files. I am sending backups of these files to you in the hopes of preserving them. Statistically one of the 30 agents I have chosen to receive these files will hold on to them. And given your history of tenacity it is highly likely that you will retrieve them somehow. I never thought myself very nostalgic, but perhaps York is rubbing off on me because this file certainly is. Good luck, not that you have ever needed it. -Delta»

“Well shit.” Wash said looking over to Carolina. He worried about how a message from their late boyfriend would affect her, how he could break her even now. Her hands gripped the edge of the chair, denting the metal with her strength as she reached the end. There was a tense moment of stillness before she suddenly surged forward to click out of the files and eject the chip, which she snatched out of the reader and immediately shoved into a secure pocket under her armor. 

“We should ah. We should keep looking for clues as to where Massachusetts has gone.”

“Okay.”