Okay! So, I wrote this story to show GI Joe through the eyes of a greenshirt! I'm not sure how far this will go, but it was fun writing the first chapter so I hope it does go far! I hope they aren't OCs, I tried to make them not…but someone PLEASE let me know if they are so I can fix it! Thanks for reading in advanced! I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One- The Great Awakening

It was five in the morning. Hubert did not want to get up. In fact, he was fairly certain that rising from the comfort of his warmed bed wouldn't be worth it. But washing out of the GI Joe program for lack of attendance would be a poor reason to wash out, and it was on the bottom of his possible-things-to-get-Hubert-kicked-out list. Respecting the list was one thing that Hubert would not mess with. Besides, a list is written in pencil. And pencil is very hard to erase when you have a bad eraser, and Hubert has unfortunate luck when it comes to optimal pencil hunting.

So he arose from the cot, took a moment to eye the sleeping mass on the other side of the room, and then fell back down again. It was true, of course, that he was used to early rising. However, in standard army, he was normally kicked out of bed and then dragged on to the course by either a caring friend or someone who enjoyed kicking people out of bed. But this, this was a whole new playing field. Having to get up on his own accord was like giving an eleven year old the choice to go to school that day. Now, Hubert had a limited window into the mind of an eleven year old child, but he was one once himself, and he recalled days debating whether to fake sickness or actually become sick by eating raw meat.

That's not entirely true. Hubert had no intention of eating raw meat. And faking sickness was for eleven year olds, so he gathered his remaining strength and rolled out of bed, landing on the floor with a heavy thud, and then blinking in shock when he realized that he had forgotten to remind himself not to go about his mornings that way. Starting the day with a bruised buttock did not do wonders for the attitude.

His unceremonious fall had awakened the sleeping mound next to him, and the mound slowly pushed back the covers and slid out of bed, regaining a human form, but not speech yet. What Hubert assumed was a 'good morning' came out more like 'gurin', which, according to his pitifully limited knowledge of languages, was not a word. Of course, this ruled out exactly two languages. English and Spanish to the high school level.

"Good morning to you too, Hoyden. Great day to be awake." Hubert was treated with a particularly nasty glare and an even more particularly nasty hand motion. It was clear the Hubert and his roommate were going to be good friends. In fact, this statement was already half true. Why just the other morning, Hubert had offered the estranged Hoyden a piece of spearmint gum, which he had accepted. Obviously, that was a secret message. It meant that Hoyden was accepting a friendship advance in the form of deliciously minty gum. It was either this, or, Hoyden had wanted gum. Either way, it was the beginning of a great friendship.

"Listen White, I don't have to listen to you cheerful nonsense in the morning. You keep your mouth shut until after ten you hear?" Hoyden was obviously not a morning person, and Hubert shrugged philosophically.

"You have my honorable word, Hoyden. My mouth shall not open until after ten. But there are some situations we have to discuss, because having lock jaw for five hours could leave me in some pretty interesting predicaments, and I usually like to avoid predicaments, unless they involve yatzee."

Hubert was treated with another blank, slightly irritated stare, until suddenly the face broke and a micro chuckle escaped the lips of the estranged Hoyden.

"Man, I guess you're alright. I mean I don't know what you're saying half the time, but that's all good bro." A fist was extended, and Hubert, an expert in the field of brotherly fist bumping, returned the gesture and brought it back to explode in an intense display of fanning fingers. "Yeah don't be doing that though."

"Really? I thought that was cool…" Hubert let his fist drop and walked into the small closet space, pulling out a pair of BDUs to throw on and a pair of standard boots. "You mean to tell me that the explosion is no longer in? I thought that was like the pinnacle of possible fist bump moves. Apparently, I have been misled."

Hoyden snorted and sat on the edge of the bed to lace up his boots, moving with frightening efficiency. If there was an Olympic standard to lace tying, Hubert concluded, Hoyden would be bringing home the gold. Or at least the silver. Hubert did not keep a record of shoe tiers.

"Nah it was never cool. But you know what is cool? Lemon wedges, and Hamlet. Those are my two favorite things in the world."

Hubert, though somewhat a humorist himself, was a bit taken aback by the normally standoffish Hoyden injecting some stellar hilarity into a conversation with a placatory ease. Hoyden smiled coyly and stood up with his fascinatingly tied boots and suave hair.

"What. You didn't think a guy like me could like lemon wedges did you? I'll admit that I am a bit hard around the edges, but inside lays the soul of a literary genius and a fine diner," Hoyden shrugged. "Actually, I'm not all too fond of lemon wedges, but for some reason that was what food item came out of my mouth. Sometimes I speak before my brain can figure out what I'm going to say…"

Hubert laced up his own boots, and although he lacked Hoydens efficiency and speed, he definitely had the presentation down, and he would have gotten extra points for style, had he been judging himself. After he had taken sensible time to take in this new information about his supposed brawny, muscular, pea-brained roommate, he stood.

"Not at all, Hoyden. In fact, I'm glad to have a roommate who will appreciate my nightly reading from Sophocles plays. Oedipus Rex is a favorite, and although I do not approve of his relationship with his mother, I will respect it. Especially since she kills herself."

"I love how you just don't even answer with anything relative to the conversation. How does that have anything to do with lemon wedges?" Hoyden walked toward the door, opening it and patiently waiting for his roommate. "Let's hurry up Creon. We don't want to be late and fail on the first day. Besides, I'm interested on how you're going to react to the Sergeant Major. Seeing as though you feel the need to respond to every word uttered with irrelevancy. I bet you'll be gone in two minutes…or dead. Or at least incapacitated."

Hubert followed his new friend out of the room and blinked with innocence. "I may appear to be a particularly dimwitted fellow. But I do have a sense of survival. I will stay out of the Sergeants way. I've heard about him. I've also heard about ninja. In the case that this rumor is true, I am going to join them. It has been my dream to be a ninja since I was six years old. And nothing will stand in my way."

"What about training? No offense, White, but you look like you couldn't even lift the sword, let alone stab someone with it. Besides, you're intelligence. So you should stay that way. Just trying to save you from an imminent death. By the way, talking to you is exhausting me. You sound like my English professor. Can you knock it off?"

Hubert nodded and walked with Hoyden down the hallway. Doors were opening, revealing more of the trainees, most of who appeared to be in a royally foul mood at the early hour. Or maybe their faces were just built with an angry display. Hubert considered pointing this out to his new friend but decided against it at the last minute. He did not want to exhaust anyone, especially not a friend. Hubert had a particularly difficult time making friends, and he had finally figured out that in order to keep the one he had made, he had to make some compromises. Even if that meant letting a brilliant retort grind away.

"By the way….how did you pass any requirements? No offense but you look a little…fail-ish?" Hoyden shrugged casually and pursed his lips. "I mean not that it's an awful thing to look fail-ish but they had standards of recruitment you know? I mean…I've worked my spectacularly shaped ass off for years and I barely made it. What makes you so special?"

Hubert smiled. What indeed. What indeed.

"I like math," Hubert said, unclimactic as it was, he would not pretend to be something he was not. He could, perhaps, have made mention that he was actually Spiderman and could walk up walls and shoot people with his flying webs of fury, but that would involve a very tangled lie, and it would probably not be believed. So Hubert stuck with the truth on this one, if for nothing else to keep his only new friend. "It's the same everywhere you go, and there's only one answer so no one can tell me I'm almost right. Cause I'm either wrong or right. I don't like being almost right, it seems insulting to my intelligence to be almost right."

Hoyden nodded, and with the speed of a very lazy lion and the efficiency of a goat, tried to yank a water bottle from the package on the counter. "Why do they make these so hard to get to? I'm already going to have a rough morning can I please get my water without any problems?" After a few moments of herculean wrestling, Hoyden pulled the water bottle out and then looked back at Hubert. "I believe that, I believe that you like math. You look like you like math."

"And you look like someone who has valiant battles with plastic wrapping around water bottles daily. You beat that covering in nearly a minute, which is much better than I could have done."

Hoyden gave him another pained look. "Listen, stay away from me during this PT alright? I have a feeling you're going to get in trouble and I don't want to be dragged down with you, literally or metaphorically."

"So I take that as a 'no' on reenacting the battle of the water packaging for the benefit of the Sergeant Major?

"I would take that as a 'I'm leaving right now. I'll see you later, if I have that bad of luck. Good bye.'" Hoyden walked away, falling behind some other trainees that all looked similar and grumpy. Hubert sighed. If he had any luck he would manage not to scare away any other friends. And if he had any luck, he would not get dragged down during PT, intentionally or otherwise. So, he joined in the ranks. Hubert White would not be made a fool of today. At least…not in the next five minutes. That was the standard no fool time zone.

Alright so I hope my OCs aren't Gary Stus! I just wanted to show the Joes through the perspective of a quirky and sometimes awkward greenshirts. Hope this turns out okay! Let me know if there are any spelling errors. There are bound to be some, and I apologize in advance for them! Thanks for reading!