Chapter 2: In your face!

Even though the sun never set on this planet, the men all had regulation sleeping times, however people like Grif slept whenever they feel like. Simmons tossed and turned in his bed, it wasn't the softest bed he had slept on, and ever since Sarge did that operation on him, he just couldn't sleep.

He sat up in his bed and sighed. Even though he got his own room, like the rest of the men in this canyon, he couldn't help but wish someone had shared his room with him. He needed someone to talk to, sadly the only one he could talk to was Grif. He groaned as he ran his only human hand through his short brown hair. He really didn't want to talk to Grif, but Donut talks too much and Sarge was acting weird. He forced himself up and out of his room, heading towards the only room that looked like crap even before you walked in.

"You need to stop this," came Grif's voice. He sounded serious, and stern, a side of him that Simmons didn't even know existed.

"Humph, and why not, he should know by now that I need my space, and to stay the hell out of my room," sneered an unfamiliar voice, however the tone was so similar to someone he knew, but he couldn't put a name to it. Simmons decided to listen a bit more, but the door opened and Simmons was face to face with Grif, who was shocked at first but his eyes narrowed at the cyborg, and Simmons had never seen Grif look so damn pissed.

"Fuck, what is it Simmons?" Grif asked then relaxed, his expression returning to that 'I don't care' look. "Can't you see I'm trying to get as much sleep as I can before Sarge tries to make me work?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think you can spare a couple of minutes," Simmons rolled his eyes. "Who were you talking to?"

Grif hesitated for a brief second, "my sister, she called me again, I had her on speaker cause I didn't feel like putting my helmet on," he shrugged.

"Oh?" Simmons asked, not really believing what he was being told. It didn't sound like sister, but he'll play along for now.

"Yeah Tucker keeps sneaking into her room, she keeps telling him to stay out, he doesn't get it, so she throws things at his head knocking him out."

For a moment Simmons felt bad for Grif's sister. She may not be the brightest, but even a girl like her deserves some privacy. Grif turned away from Simmons, heading back to his room.

"Hey, can we talk?" Simmons asked.

Grif turned around and ran his hand through his hair, well Simmons's old hand.

"Uh, yeah sure, whatever, can we go somewhere else?" Grif asked a bit nervous.

"Why not your room?" he asked trying to get a peek at the inside of Grif's room, however the young man in front of him had blocked Simmons's line of sight.

"It's uh, messy, let's go to the kitchen," he offered.

Simmons gave him a questioned look but shook his head and sighed. "Sure, whatever."

Grif led the way to the kitchen, looking back at his dimly lit room with an apologetic look. Simmons rolled his eyes, figuring that Grif just warned to sleep again.

But he decided to move the conversation away from his room, where he could have easily passed out during our chat, he thought. Maybe he really is my friend; Simmons smiled, taking a seat in one of the many chairs in the eating area.

Grif had gotten a small snack from the fridge then slumped down into the chair next to Simmons's.

Maybe not, he thought as he saw the large stack of snack food in front of him 'friend'

Grif noticed Simmons looking at him and he shrugged. "A man got to eat," he explained. "So what is it you want to talk about, I do have to sleep too," he smiled lightly.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Simmons started. "It's just that I can't seem to sleep, like my brain is trying to remember something important but all I get is fuzzy images and muffled voices," he sighed looking down at his hands with a depressed sigh.

Grif didn't answer at first, but Simmons could have sworn he heard him curse under his breath. Simmons looked up just in time to see his friend pop a cooled Oreo into his mouth.

"Look I don't' know what to do, just ignore it, it is so important, then you would have seen more than blobs," he shrugged taking a sip of his milk.

Simmons thought about it for a while, maybe Grif was right, maybe he was troubling himself over nothing. Perhaps it was nothing.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Simmons said weakly then with a long yawn he stood up, thanked Grif then walked off towards the bed rooms.

On the way to his room he heard someone talking faintly. He looked around; but sounded like the person Grif claimed was his sister. Surly it was nothing, maybe Grif forgot to hang up? Most likely, this meant that he would need to go shut it off before he runs its energy life down to zero…again.

As he got closer to Grif's room the voice was louder, and had a familiar accent. He thought nothing by it, thinking that once again he was over thinking. He opened the room door and walked in, the voice cut short in what he believed to be a string of long worded curses. Simmons picked up the discarded orange helmet blinking a few times as he found out that the helmet had been off for hours…so who was he hearing?

"Don't you dare look up boy," the voice said harshly.

Simmons did as he was told.

"Turn around, and leave," she said calming down a bit.

The curiosity level in Simmons's head was too high for him to ignore, and he had failed to complete the order. Curiosity killed the cat Dick, just follow orders, tell Sarge, and….He wasn't able to finish the thought.

"Damn it Simmons! What have I told you about wasting my time, get moving!" The female yelled.

"Sorry sir!" Simmons yelled back; straighten out, his eyes widened as he saw the familiar blue eyes, dark skin and black hair. The woman had her hands over her mouth realizing what she had done far too late to stop it.

"W-who are you?" Simmons asked

"Fuck, and me without my shotgun," she growled, looking around the messy room franticly.

"S….Sarge?" Simmons asked taking a step closer to her, his head running though the many scenes of his fogged memory, trying to make sense of what was going on.

"Damn it and I just promised myself I wasn't going to hurt you," she whispered to herself, before she picked up the closest, heaviest object in the room. Weighing it in her hands, before she stood ready to attack.

"Luna, don't!" Grif's voice rang into the room, loud, and concerned. Grif moved himself between Luna and Simmons.

"Grif, what the hell is going on here, which is that?" He asked franticly.

"Uh look, go to bed, we'll talk about this later," Grif said pushing Simmons out the door.

"No!" Simmons protested. "I won't wait, you know something, and you lied to me!"

"Move aside dirt bag, I'll take care of this," Luna said darkly.

Grif turned his head towards Luna. "Sorry sir, but I'll handle this," he looked back at Simmons who was still glaring at him and sighed. "Fine, come on we'll talk on the roof."

Simmons allowed himself to be pushed out of the room, and to the roof of red base. Once there he stopped, Grif continued to walk. He didn't stop till he was at the edge of the building, leaning on one of the low walls. He took out a pack of cigarettes and held his hand out, offering one to Simmons.

"You know I don't smoke," he said harshly.

"Yeah, well, you might want to," Grif smirked.

"Tell me who that was, and why you lied to me," Simmons demanded.