Another Grif and Sarge friendship fic, because I really do believe that Grif kinda looks up to Sarge. As stated in the summary Simmons is dead, that part is not in the story so it kinda went like this: Simmons and Grif were fighting against ex-Freelancer Montana when ex-agent Alaska sniped Simmons. This is sorta the aftermath. Enjoy

Grif slammed his door shut and leaned up against it, fists clenched tightly. He had just left after having an argument with Sarge and Wash about how to continue their mission. He told them that they couldn't run forever and that they needed to face them, Wash said that he was being stupid and that it would get them all killed, and the argument continued from there. He could still see his friend's dead body in his arms, covered in blood with no pulse and all his robot parts had shut down. Alaska and Montana had gotten away, which made Grif furious, but there wasn't anything he could do.

Grif tore off his helmet and tossed it to the ground with an angry yell. He punched the wall with his armored hand and gasped, finding that he could not get air into his lungs. That's when he remembered that Simmons had asthma, and now that he had his lungs that meant he had asthma now. Grif clutched his throat and all he could think was shit! He fell to his knees, holding himself up with one hand while his other clung to his throat, and tried to call for help only to find that his voice was gone. He reached his hand out, trying to grab the inhaler Simmons had given him. He fell forward in the process and knocked it over along with his flashlight. He heard running footsteps and his door burst open.

"Grif!" Sarge shouted. He ran over and sat Grif up, grabbing his inhaler and handing it too him. Grif took the inhaler from Sarge's hand and used it, taking in a deep breath afterwards. Grif looked at his hands to find them shaking, the inhaler falling out of his hands. Grif took slow, deep breaths and tried to stop from shaking so much, but it wasn't working. Grif jumped in surprise as two hands wrapped around his. "Calm down, it's going to be all right." Grif looked up at Sarge as he gave him a serious, but calm, expression. Grif took a deep breath and closed his eyes, calming himself down. "Better?" Grif nodded.

"Yeah, thanks," Grif murmured. Sarge nodded and stood, reaching out a hand to help Grif to his feet. After a moments hesitation Grif took the offer and Sarge pulled the soldier to his feet. Grif sat on his bunk and refused to make eye contact, or look at Sarge at all for that matter. Grif tensed as he felt Sarge sit next to him, everything about this made him uncomfortable. Grif glanced at Sarge and was surprised by the look of sympathy in the older man's eyes. Grif looked instantly away from his piercing gaze, not liking how it made his stomach churn.

"Grif, are you ok?" Grif didn't answer, just stared at the ground gritting his teeth. He swore to himself that he wouldn't cry in front of anyone and there was no way in hell he would do it in front of Sarge of all people. Grif looked in the opposite direction Sarge was, trying to ignore the fact that he was even there and hoping that he would just leave. Sadly, this was not the case. "Dexter Taliesin Grif, look at me." Grif couldn't help it, he turned to face Sarge. "Are you ok?" He was asking it slowly and seriously, obviously wanting the truth and nothing but the truth. Grif looked away again, staring at the ground for a long moment before speaking.

"No," he responded, gritting his teeth to lock up his sobs. Grif felt the anger well up inside him again and his emotional dam burst. "I just watched my only friend die in my arms, and it's my fault! It was my job to watch his six and if I had been doing my job instead of joking around he would still be here! I could've warned him, but no, I had to be lost in my own little world and I-" Grif was cut off as a hand covered his mouth. He turned his head to look over at Sarge. His CO was giving him a sympathetic look as his gaze switched between one eye and the other.

"It's not your fault, it's mine," Sarge told him, his voice calm and strong. Grif stared at him with his hand still covering his mouth. "You're my men and it's my job to keep an eye on you, and I didn't. I thought it would be a better idea to go on my own and leave you two be, and that was wrong of me. I'm sorry." It was Sarge's turn to avoid eye contact as Grif stared at him. "Simmons was a great man and a good soldier. And that blasted ex-Freelancer took him. He was your best friend, I see that now, and now you're alone, arentchya?" Grif's eyes were welling up with tears but he knew Sarge couldn't tell because he wasn't looking at him. "I'm sorry. I really, truly am." Grif's tears passed his eyelids now.

Sarge's head slowly turned to look at Grif as his tears fell against the hand he held against his mouth. Grif's eyes shut and he began to sob, his shoulders shaking. Sarge removed his hand and wrapped his arms around Grif, holding the younger man against him and holding him tightly as he finally let the tears spill over and the sobs escape his throat. Sarge gave a small sigh and patted his back. Grif clung to Sarge like he was his lifeline while he cried, his eyes starting to sting in pain from the salty tears. After a few moments Sarge held Grif out in front of him.

"Come on, Simmons wouldn't want you moping," Sarge told him. Grif looked up at Sarge wiping away his tears. "He's not really gone because he never said goodbye. And if he didn't say goodbye than he's not really gone, he's just not here right now. And besides, you've always got plenty of parts of him with you." Grif flinched as Sarge tapped the skin around his right eye. Grif's hand raised and touched the freckled skin there. Grif found it in him to smile at Sarge's words.

"Yeah, that's kinda your fault," he commented with a tiny chuckle. Sarge huffed and gave him a tiny shove, hoping that it wouldn't hurt the now slightly emotional soldier's feelings. Grif gave a half smirk and Sarge glared.

"Hey, you're alive, arentchya?" Sarge countered. Grif mumbled and shrugged a bit. Sarge huffed again and shoved him again, harder this time, and he fell backwards onto the bed, snickering. "You little buggered." Grif sat up still snickering with a tiny smile. Sarge smiled a bit back. "At least you ain't crying like a baby anymore." Grif snorted and glared a bit at him. Sarge grabbed Grif in a headlock and ruffled his hair.

"Hey! Leggo!" Sarge let him go and laughed as he fell backwards onto the floor, glaring up at him. Sarge stood up, still laughing, and helped the other man to his feet. "Asshole." Sarge gave him a half smile and Grif smiled broadly at him. Grif's emotions must have gotten away from him, because he hadn't wanted to say what he said next. "You're a good man Sarge." Sarge stared at Grif in surprise, the younger man looking up at him with a nervous smile. Sarge gave a friendly chuckle and wrapped an arm around Grif's shoulders.

"You ain't so bad yourself numbnuts," he responded. Grif smiled, knowing Sarge meant well. The two stood there a moment, thinking over what had just happened. Sarge ruffled Grif's hair again. Grif gave a tiny growl and glared at him as he laughed. "Come on, let's go find out where we're going now." Grif nodded and Sarge released him from his grip. The two shared one last smile before leaving the room and exiting the base to see Wash talking with Donut, Tucker, and Caboose. Grif glanced up at Sarge, having never met his father Sarge had become a bit of a father figure to him, not that he would ever admit it, and he looked up to him, respected him, and hoped that someday he'd be a Sergeant just like him.

Probably not. But he can dream, can't he?

And that's a wrap. I hope to have the next chapter for AIs and Their Freelancers out tomorrow and the next chapter for To Save a Life out the next day, so keep an eye out.

Thanks for reading, please review, and have a bow chicka bow wow day.
Perla: And may it be the best day ever, of all time.