He looks up to see a hand in his face. Palm up as if in offer to help him stand, but that would be impossible. The person that hand belonged to he knew would not be here. Not now. They left. They quit. They quitted him. Slowly he lets out a groan and rests his head back on the floor. Now he was hallucinating about him to. Just great.
"I bet that medicine I got from Donut was expired."
"I told you not to trust those old bottles of his. No way has he gotten anything new in years. At least nothing that he hasn't made himself."
That voice belonged to him as well. Could it be. Simmons head shoots up. "Are you really here?"
"Of course I am."
"Why?" Simmons could hear his voice crack.
"Why else would I be here Simmons?"
"I-i don't know."
Grif sighs. "Get up." He shakes his hand and this time Simmons accepts the offer. Grif looks him over before asking, "Where are the others?"
Simmons shakes his head to clear it. "They were, we were, uh,"
"So you all managed to lose each other again?"
"I was with Caboose when we all separated during the fight. He was shouting about something then there was an explosion and I," Simmons looks around. "I guess I passed out."
"You were with Caboose?"
"Yeah." Simmons answers waiting for grif to make a joke about his poor taste in partners. Or maybe he would make one about no wonder he nearly died out here in the desert alone.
"He may be nearby. Let's see if we can find him." Grif releases Simmons hand and starts to stalk off. Simmons hadn't even noticed that their hands had still been touching. Now that Grif was walking away he noticed the lack of warmth again.
"Grif! Wait up!" He jogs to catch up to the orange soldier. Was he still a soldier. He had announced his quitting in front of them all. But when does a soldier ever stop being a soldier. Really, do they ever? "Hey, how did you get here?"
"It wasn't difficult." He avoids answering the question directly. Grif stares ahead of them as he makes his way towards some towers off in the distance.
"But how?" Simmons presses.
Grif shakes his head. "Do you really want to hear how right now or do you want to find the others?"
"I don't know where any of them went. We might as well talk as we look for them, right? That's what we usually do anyways. Or we used to." Simmons adds the last sentence as an afterthought. Were they that different from before, now?
"I don't really feel like talking Simmons." Grif replies solemnly.
"But none of us have heard from you in months." Simmons presses.
Grif stops walking. He does not move his gaze from the towers. "Listen. I'm not joining back up. I'm not going on these crazy adventures anymore. I quit and this is not me coming back. After you all left I stayed there for a couple more weeks. Then Chorus reached out to me, apparently Tucker was being hunted down by some mothers he had kids with. I hitched a ride back to blood gulch from there. I don't know why. Maybe I just wanted to be somewhere simple again. Instead I arrived while there was a party going on at red base and my sister was leading it. Did you know she was alive?" Grif glances over his shoulder at Simmons. "I didn't. I mean Lopez told me he had killed her and I know I told him and Washington that there was no way she was dead. Still, part of me had thought she really was gone. Seeing her again, it," he stops. "We need to keep moving." With that he starts walking again.
Simmons notices his suit was slightly slimmer than it had been before. He had always thought that Grif could only gain weight not lose it. Especially since he had never lost a pound in the years they had spent together. He was always eating. Always sleeping. So lazy.
"After that I stayed with her until the parties got to much. The music was too loud. The food was so small. I never got any sleep. So I said goodbye to Kai and left. At least she is having fun and doing what she does best. Extorting guys for money."
Simmons laughs. Only when Grif didn't say anything did he realize it hadn't been meant as a joke. "Grif. Are you okay?"
"You guys are so easy to find. You leave evidence of yourselves everywhere. I wouldn't be surprised if the UNSC had soldiers coming after you all right now."
"Wouldn't they be coming after us?" Grif had been one of them once. Now he said nothing as they walk closer. The towers were about a mile away still.
"Grif?"
"Who do you think I am?"
"What?"
"Who do you think I am, Simmons?"
That was an odd question. "You're Dexter Grif. You're a lazy, fat, inconsiderate, friend." Simmons replies without missing a beat.
Grif raises his head. Maybe to look at the sky or maybe the sun. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Come on. Let's find the others."
Suddenly Simmons feels as if he just answered a trick question. A pit in his stomach tells him that he answered it very, very wrong. Momentarily his mind wanders to the others. He hopes Sarge and Donut were okay.