Disclaimer: I don't own RvB, nor did I ask Rooster Teeth Production for permission to use their characters in this story.
Author's Note: I've gone through and changed a few things here and there, mainly bad grammar.
"What in Sam hell happened here Simmons!" Sarge asked, seeing the Warthog flipped up on its side, along with other extensive damage having been done.
"I don't know, sir. I found it like this when I came out here. The last time I saw the jeep it was parked out in front of the base where we normally keep it." Simmons replied.
Sarge seemed to be thinking, and then shook his head. "Well, whatever happened here, it must be Grif's fault. Stupid Grif, can't that scumbag do anything right?" he asked, more to himself than to Simmons.
Seeing another opportunity to kiss Sarge's ass, Simmons answered, "No, Grif doing something right would be like this war actually having a purpose, I don't think that's possible sir."
Sarge knelt down facing the underside of the Warthog, trying to judge the damage done. While looking over the equipment he nodded, "Good point, Simmons."
"Grif! What the hell did you do to the Warthog?" Sarge yelled to a half-asleep Grif.
Grif had been sleeping against the wall in front of the base, before being kicked in the side, hard, and now being yelled at. "Wha? What are yo…u talking about Sarge?" Grif asked with a yawn in the middle, sitting up rubbing his side where Sarge had kicked him. Since Sarge was in his full armor get-up, minus the helmet, and Grif wasn't wearing any armor, the kick had hurt like hell.
"The car you dumbshit! I want to know what you did to wreck it… again!" Sarge growled, placing his foot down on Grif's chest, pushing him down on his back.
After failing to get Sarge to let him up, Grif began, "I didn't do any…"
"Don't lie, I know it was you. How many times do I have to tell you how expensive that piece of equipment is? And now that Lopez is gone, we don't have anyone to fix it. If that's not enough…."
Grif let out a sigh as Sarge let his foot up allowing Grif to stand up. He shook his head as Sarge continued to yell at him. Ignoring what Sarge was saying, Grif thought to himself, 'I know exactly what happened. Last night after he thought everyone was asleep, Donut decided to take the jeep for a spin… literally. I'm surprised the huge crash didn't wake this dipshit up. Though I guess if I hadn't been up on top of the base last night thinking, I wouldn't know about it either.'
"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?"
Grif was snapped out of his thoughts, "Huh?"
"God damn it, private! I don't know what the hell to do with you anymore!" Sarge cried out in frustration and walked around to the back of the base where the wrecked vehicle was.
Grif headed inside the base, he need to think some more, as he was walking to his room he passed Simmons, out of his armor as well. "Good going, asshole." Simmons sneered at him sarcastically. Grif just ignored him and went to his room. Donut who had seen this watched Grif walk away, feeling sorry for his fellow solder. "Don't feel sorry for him, he deserves this kind of treatment." Simmons ordered the rookie.
"What did he do?"
"He wrecked the jeep out back." Simmons said before walking off.
Donut felt a twinge of guilt, but kept quiet. 'Sorry man, but better you than me.' He thought. 'You're used to them yelling at you, so it's not that big of a deal.'
Grif slammed the door behind him as he went into to his room. The room was messy, but it could have been a lot worse. The bed, centered on the back wall, wasn't made, clothes were strewn on the floor on both sides of the bed. At the foot of his bed was his armor in a pile, his helmet in front of the rest of the armor. Grif cursed Sarge under his breath as he punted the helmet and bounced of the wall. He turned to face a full length mirror beside the door and stared at his reflection. He wore white socks and tennis shoes, jeans, and a long sleeve shirt, the back now covered in dirt from when Sarge shoved him on the ground earlier. His unkempt dark brown hair was a mess in the back, dirt clumps intertwined with his hair. His face looked ragged, he hadn't shaved in a week or two, and his grey eyes were cold and distant as he stared into their reflection. He closed his eyes, sighed, and turned away from the reflection muttering to himself, "Why do I put up with this?" as he collapsed on to the bed, stomach down, and fell asleep.
Over the next few days things went normal around the base, with the exception of Sarge and Simmons glaring at Grif more often then usual, and Grif giving deadly looks to Donut in return. After one of these death glares when Donut was stationed to lookout duty with Grif one day he started to apologize. "Uh… Grif?"
"No. Don't even start Donut. I don't care." Grif stated coldly, staring out across the canyon.
"But…" Donut tried again.
"Look!" Grif snapped turning around to face Donut, clearly pissed off at the pink private. " I don't give a fuck about anything you have to say! Just drop it!" Donut opened his mouth to speak again. "DROP IT!" Grif threatened. Neither solder said anything for the rest of their shift.
Grif sat out on top of the base that night, leaning against one of the plates that were placed on top of the base around the edges, his right leg dangling over the edge. He wore a sweat outfit, even though it was still fairly warm in the canyon. He stared up into the cloudless sky, for some reason it never seemed to rain here. 'Odd, most people would prefer this kind of weather, but I want it to rain,' he thought to himself. 'just once, I wish it would rain in this godforsaken place.' He sighed and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head.
"Grif?" A voice called out. "What are you doing up here?" Grif turned his head to see Simmons walking up the ramp to the top of the base. He stared at him for a few seconds before turning to stare out into the canyon. "Hey! Answer me you dumb shit!" Simmons barked. Not getting an answer he growled, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Grif let out a low chuckle, "Heh, why the hell do you care?" he answered in an amused tone, continuing to stare out into the void.
"This isn't like you." Simmons said more calmly. "You're not responding to anything Sarge or I say to you, you yell at Donut for no reason…" He paused seeing a frown quickly appear on Grif's face.
"No reason? How the hell do you know if there's no reason or not?"
"You know what? I don't. I don't because you are being all pissy and not saying anything about it!"
"Screw this. I don't need this shit." Grif said, getting up and walking towards the ramp leading inside the base. He stopped at the top of the ramp, "Why do you bother to pretend you care?" He continued to walk away.
"I do care, I'm you're friend, Grif!" Simmons called, but he didn't get a reply. He sighed to himself, "I've got to find out what's going on, this really isn't like him."
"Friend?" Grif scoffed, slamming the door to his room behind him. "He has the guts to claim he's my friend?" He began to trash some of the stuff in his room, throwing clothes across the room. After a minute he stopped and regained his senses. He took off the sweatshirt, leaving him with a white wife-beater for a shirt, and turned to stare at his reflection. He eyes were watering from his rage. "Sure he's all 'friendly' when it's just the two of us, but he'd backstab me in a heartbeat if it gives him a chance to kiss-up to Sarge. Some friend that is." He put his hand up to his chin, feeling how unshaven it was. He went into the bathroom adjoining his room and pulled his razor out of the cabinet. He proceeded to shave, and noticed the blade was very dull. After he was finished, he decided to change the blade out, accidentally cutting his finger in the process. "Fuck! Fucking stings." He placed the bleeding appendage in his mouth while pulling a bandage out from the medicine chest above the sink. As he covered the cut up, he walked back to the main room, ready to call it quits for a night. He sighed as he kicked his pants off so he was left in his wife-beater and boxers. As he collapsed on the bed he noticed that he was oddly relaxed and calm. 'How the hell did this happen?' But before he could dwell on it too much sleep overcame him.