Mom Friend (SHADOWs of GHOST

Turk

By this point, Turk couldn't be sure if missions with Journey were blessings or a burden on his entire day.

It wasn't that she was a bad teammate or anything—she was quite the opposite. She was a team player, observant, and always there when you needed her. At any given moment, she would drop everything to check on you, making sure you were well-taken care of, and that was where he couldn't tell.

The duo would be taking on a recon mission of camping in the enemy territory. A.L.T.E.R had been silent lately, so someone needed to see what they were up to. If they didn't get on the road any time soon, though, the chances of finding out anything substantial was slim. They were packed up and ready to go, or at least he thought it was. Not according to Journey, apparently.

Before they even got to this point, Journey had gone over regulations and things of the sort at least four times. To be fair, they both had only ever been on recon missions with the entire troop. If anything were to go wrong, the other would become a solo. But she had also looked through his tactical bag dozens of times, finding something wrong with it each. And every. Time.

A lack of proper tools for combat, safety, and medical aid (especially the latter two), not enough water, not enough food, not enough of anything. If she wasn't satisfied with her next search, he would give up. There would be no more missions, at least not with her. He couldn't fathom the idea of spending two days doing this.

Finally, she handed the bag back to him. "Sorry, sorry, I know I'm going overboard." She sheepishly rubbed her neck and swung her bag over her shoulder. "You're all good, I promise. If there's anything else missing later, I'll have it covered in my bag."   

Turk skimmed through his bag; she had actually organized the entire thing. Though he sighed, he couldn't help but smile afterward, recalling a memory of him and Outcast in the days before the island. The same situation happened often with their aunt: for even short trips, she would double and triple check what they had packed, throwing in even more supplies into their already filled to the brim backpacks or suitcases. He would always cover his ears or mock Outcast's annoyed wails and pouts as she demanded the get going.

Oh, how the days then were so simple. Just the sounds of the surrounding nature and environment, back before the faction war was so prominent.

"What?" He didn't realize he was staring until Journey smiled at him in amusement."

"Nothing. Just reminded me of something," he said, shaking his head. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. "My aunt used to do this with me and Liv. She always had to make sure we were prepared for everything. Three times was good enough for her, though. Not five."

"I just like to be sure," she laughed. "But I did go overboard, sorry."

"Yeah, you're like an overbearing mom."

He hadn't meant to say that out loud.    "I mean..."

He wasn't sure how he expected her to react, but she didn't seem to think much of it. She only smiled, brushed it off and started going through her own bag. Maybe she already knew she was practically the team mom—hell, he'd go as far as to say the mom of E.G.O. She always treated henchmen with the same warmth she showed their troop, but she knew how to set them all straight, too.

"We should be all set, now," she said. "We better get going."

"Only took ten years."

"Hey, I can always search again," she teased. "I just want us to be prepared."

Turk snorted. "Oh, we're prepared alright."