The Chaos Crew (Statehumans)

Strawberry

(btw there's gonna be angst and fluff and romance in this book because uh duh hello do you know who I am?)

Alabama wandered around the parking lot, trying to find any clues as to where Texas might have gone. Just when he considered giving up and asking around- knowing it could lead him back to a prison cell- he saw a bush next to a parking meter start rustling. Texas's hand popped out of the bush, quavering weakly. Alabama pulled him out, trying to help Texas stand on his shaking knees.

"Tex! What happened?!" Alabama exclaimed. Texas rubbed the right side of his head, and when he pulled his hand away he saw it was coated in blood.

"O-ow.... I-I.... I just remember feeling a pain in my skull and... that's it...," Texas said. Alabama set Texas down so he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the parking meter. Alabama searched the bushes, not seeing any sign of Texas's gun. Texas untied his bandanna from his neck and bundled it up so he could press it against his wound.

"You don't have your gun on you still, right?" Alabama asked. Texas shakily checked his holster, where the gun once was. It was missing. Alabama pursed his lips. "...I think someone must've taken your gun... maybe they were trying to make us think you turned against us...," Alabama said. Texas looked confused.

"Did... something happen?" Texas asked. Alabama sighed.

"Someone shot California," Alabama said.

"What?!" Texas exclaimed, trying to jump up onto his feet, but then falling back in disorientation. Alabama leaned down and tried to steady him.

"Shhh! Hey, settle down! He's ok, wasn't hit in a bad spot or nothin'. He'll live," Alabama said. Texas squinted his eyes shut, his head throbbing in pain.

"Where's... where are they?" Texas asked. Alabama pulled Texas to his feet and started walking him towards the curb where Ohio would be picking them up.

"Don't worry, ok? Let's just get back to HQ," Alabama said.

Meanwhile, at the HQ, Florida was trying his best to nurse California back to health by doing absolutely everything he could think of.

"Ok, I got you some kombucha, a weed bunt, some stilettos for encouragement, a poster of Paris Hilton, a head of cauliflower, annnnnd a Sephora bag full of palm leaves and sand. You feel better yet? Cuz' I think you should," Florida stated. California spat the blunt Florida shoved into his mouth onto the floor.

"Ok, first of all, I don't like kombucha that much. Second, it's not called a 'bunt', it's a blunt. Third, I can't wear stilettos right now because I'm currently bed-ridden. Fourth, Paris Hilton is nice and all, but I don't get what the poster is for. And what the hell is the point of the last two things?!" California exclaimed. Florida frowned.

"I was just trying to give you things I thought you'd like...," Florida said. California frowned.

"Awwwwww, that's very sweet of you, but you failed completely," California said. Florida whined and flopped onto a chair next to Californias bed. 

"You're so difficult!" Florida exclaimed. ".... Do you think Alabama found Texas yet?" Florida asked after a few seconds of pouting. California sighed.

"I hope... there's no way Texas shot me on purpose... right?" California asked. Florida shook his head.

"Texas has immaculate aim... but he wouldn't have shot you for no good reason...," Florida said. Suddenly, Alabama opened the door to Californias room, Texas lagging behind with a bandage wrapped around his head.