(no subject)
Command just really needed to go fuck themselves.
Fucking bullshit, was what it was, orders that were nearly fucking impossible to deal with and completely fucking abusive on top of it; running two or even three raids in less than 48 hours, hauling their shit around the goddamn girly territory on a day to goddamn day basis and half the time not even using it because everybody was fucking tired.
Andy scowled and rubbed at his forehead a bit, closing one eye as he traced his fingers over the map, trying to figure out if there was a way to fucking do the espionage and raid at the same damn time. They might have enough men, if those fuckers would stir their goddamn asses out of a damn stupor, but that fucking bunker was built half into that damn hill and they’d need to have more than one unit while the break-in team was inside...
“You can’t fucking do it like that, they’ll just fall back through the back of the goddamn hill.” Merrick sat and shoved him over a bit, leaning over the map until a few longer chunks of hair nearly brushed the paper. “Right here,” he pointed.
“Ugh, fuck.” Really, really didn’t want to fucking do this in two goddamn trips. They were going to have a fucking mutiny by the end of fall if they kept up this pace and Andy almost didn’t fucking blame them.
“So we need what, three teams?” They could maybe shove something off on Matthews, if he didn’t act like a goddamn dick for once. More fucking reliable than Harris or Levin or that new asshole who was fucking wasted half the goddamn time.
Merrick sat up straighter and tossed his bangs out of his eyes. Fucker needed another haircut, it was starting to get tangled in shit again. “Four.”
“Bitch.” They paused, Andy tracing over the lines on the map again, considering what the fuck they were going to do. “Maybe we can-”
“Lieutenants?” A head stuck itself through the tent flap, unfailing at learning to fucking knock, and Tad looked at both of them before settling on a facial expression somewhere between a grin and anxious excitement.
“Learn to fucking knock, yeah?” Andy snapped as Merrick leaned back on one arm and adjusted his glasses slightly with the other. “What.”
“Y’know those guys, and sometimes we all go out hunting together or I show them things like tracking and that kind of stuff? Y’know?” Tad widened his eyes ridiculously, looking especially fucking ridiculous now that he’d started looking like a goddamn adult, and waited for a nod before continuing. “Wellll we were thinking if a few of them can stay here during the next mission or something we can restock some food supplies, since it’s been so busy and we’ve been out of meat for a while ‘cause everybody’s so tired after missions and...”
Tad kept rattling the fuck on, bitching about the fucking trees or whatever his little followers liked to do in their spare time, and Andy and Merrick exchanged a few quick glances before the youngest man spouted something about breaking up the workload and their goddamn solution fell into their fucking laps.
“Yeah. Whatever. Tad.” The boy stopped for a moment to blink expectantly, and Merrick went forward without waiting, long fingers jabbing at the map. “You’re taking a unit for the next mission, so no you can’t go fucking wander off. Be ready to fucking command and keep the bitches from running out of their damn hole tomorrow morning.”
Tad blinked again, grey eyes going larger, and smiling widely. “Okay! Oh man that’s so ciller I’ve never gotten to command anything before-”
“The fuck ever, get the fuck out and go clean your weapons or some shit,” Andy snapped again, waiting for the brunet to disappear before letting out a long breath and grinning just a little bit. “That’ll give us a whole extra fucking day to sit the fuck around and get some sleep.”
“Yeah, or not,” Merrick murmured, leaning forward to nip the blond’s neck.
Anarchy was in the middle of reading through some last minute edits when there was a muffled crash from downstairs. He stopped, leaning back in his chair, and waited for a few long moments. Just as he was about to decide it’d been the fucking cat laying on something that wasn’t strong enough for his ancient overweight ass, a thin, panicked wail floated up after it and Anarchy shoved up from his desk to see what was wrong.
Padding down the stairs, he paused on the bottom landing to look at Chomsky, right in the middle of a huge mess of papers and assorted junk, all clearly from the side table he’d managed to pull down right next to him. The kid looked up, widened his eyes at Anarchy, and let out another wail, this time waving his hand towards the adult urgently. “Dadddddddyy I cu’ myself!!”
Frowning, Anarchy picked his way through the mess, stepping on a half-broken picture frame and scooping up the four year old. Goddamn mess, and he should’ve just brought his shit down here to do it. Ugh. “Let me see.”
Chomsky sniffled and shoved his hand up to a few centimeters away from his father’s face, eyes welling up as Anarchy took it and moved it backwards to examine. A thin scratch stretched across the kid’s palm, a few determined drops of blood trying to ooze out. Anarchy just shook his head a little and rubbed his thumb over it, wiping them away. “You’re fine.”
“Bu’ I’m bweeeeeeding.”
“It’ll be okay. Come upstairs with me for a while and when your dad gets home we an clean up the damn mess.”
“‘Kay,” the brunet mumbled, twisting around a little to press his face against Anarchy’s shoulder as he took them both upstairs.