[Shit shit shit shit shit. The fear in his gut wasn't about being in a near-death situation; Tucker was almost used to that amid seemingly daily wars and time loops and Freelancer bullshit and pregnancy. Hell, even as scary as these weird serpent creepers were, if he squinted, Tucker could almost imagine them as distant relatives to his son; they did sort of have that whole alien vibe kicking. More violent, but not by that much, really?

Sure, it all still weirded him the fuck out, but that wasn't what was really scaring him.]

Goddammit, Caboose!

[Corralling this particular wayward Blue Team member while trying not to let him go make friends with those same serpents? Now that was scary.

Okay, so at least Tucker didn't yell it, managed to bite it back with a hiss. He knew better than to call him over, was well-versed in what a disaster it would be over the years. Besides, it wasn't like Tucker was sporting his own patience on the whole damn thing.

So he darted out and rushed over to him, trying to put himself between Caboose and the monsters as nonchalantly as possible as he hoped to lure him away with...something. He didn't know yet. Ninety-percent of dealing with Caboose was winging it.] Dude, come on, we gotta go, but we're playing the quiet game on the way, okay? Winner gets to keeps Wash's helmet as a fruit basket.

[Sure. Right. We'll go with that.]