Chapter 3: Let's do what we do best

Oh god, please let it only be a standard freakout from Simmons. That was the first thing Tucker thought.

"Holy shit, what happened to you guys?" Tucker managed while sounding halfway composed. Simmons head snapped up immediately. "Thank god, Grif!" the cyborg exclaimed as the orange soldier knelt next to him, barely having time to put down his stuff before Simmons almost literally threw himself at his lover. "We were looking for you and followed you inside the cave where shit suddenly exploded" the tallest among them babbled.

"Wa-what happened to Wash?" Tucker asked, surprised at how fucking calm he sounded while he approached the Freelancer that lay motionless on his side. "He is knocked out" informed Simmons the teal soldier right away. "I think something hit him in the neck when everything collapsed. He... kind of knocked himself out though by pressing his fingers in the wounds."

Somehow Tucker had been unable to think Wash would be killed by something so simple. Yet, he was fucking relieved that he knew the guy was just knocked out. While Grif got lectured by Simmons, Tucker knelt next to Wash, trying to get a better look at his neck. You didn't see much as it was smeared with drying blood. But from all Tucker could tell it wasn't bleeding too much. Fuck, he didn't know any shit about first aid. Let alone have anything with him.

Tucker bit his bottom lip in worry. Not like he actually had much of a clue about these scars. But he knew they were a sensitive spot from Wash. Mentally and physically. Fuck.

Okay, focus on what to do. Keep your calm. Do something about the wound.

He turned to Simmons and Grif. "Hey, yeah, sorry to interrupt your lovers quarrel but does one of you have Biofoam with you?"

For Simmons it seemed to be a welcome change of topic as he moved away from Grif "I have some." While Simmons moved over Tucker carefully removed Washs helmet. If he didn't collapse right away after the hit then it meant his spine was mostly likely intact. Probably. Tucker turned Wash slightly so Simmons could apply the Biofoam. The Freelancers body was slack asides from his face that scrunched up in pain when the wound was touched. But his breath was slow and steady. That probably was good. "How is he doing?" Gris asked then and Tucker sighed. "He will be fine. He's just unconscious. The injury isn't that bad." At least he hoped he was right about it. Tuckers medical knowledge probably was as bad as Doc's.

Carefully Tucker lay Wash back on his side before he took out his helmet and put it on the ground between them. Simmons and Grif sat at a wall opposite to them and Tucker sighed mentally. Wash really had some bad karma. Fuck. Tucker hoped he was okay and would wake up soon. He was sure he heard once that a flash of overwhelming pain could knock you out momentarily. Hopefully that was true and the case.

The teal soldier titled his head back with a frustrated sigh and starred at the ceiling. Great. So they lost track of the Feds. And they were still in here and probably would kill them if they suspected that he and the others had any clue. Simmons and Wash had followed them and Wash was knocked out and maybe injured. The exit was sealed and they had no way to radio anyone in here. And on top of all this was Tuckers fault. He shouldn't have gone after them in the cave. Or at least turn around when they noticed the radio didn't work anymore. Fuck it. He probably was still pretty horrible whit making decisions. Well, that's why he already had allowed Church to take lead back in Blood Gulch. Church was an asshole and a lousy shot but he wasn't that bad as a leader.

Tuckers attention soon was brought back to Simmons and Grif who were snuggled together and talking quietly. Gross.

So yeah Tucker was the last one to be a prudent probably on the whole planed. And maybe he was even a little tiny bit happy for the two but really. This was getting gross. Simmons and Grif were so sickeningly sweet that Tucker was sure he was going to get caries from just watching. So whatever the fuck he and Wash had – or not for that matter – was better than that.

"Ugh... guys I think I liked you better as an old bickering couple than as freshly in love teenager."

"Shut up" answered both reds in union and Tucker snorted. Yeah, that. So they were stuck here because the exit was sealed and they couldn't really go anywhere in the first place since Wash was unconscious. Until the Freelancer came to, all they could do was wait. And Wash probably would have a batter idea on what to do than Tucker could come up with. Or Grif or Simmons for that matter.

"No really, I think I'll get a sugar shock or caries."

"Then don't look", replied Grif who still held Simmons close. Tucker rolled his eyes. "Yeah like there is much more around in this fucking cave."

Grif shrugged. "You can look at Wash."

Tucker couldn't help but stare stupidly at the orange soldier. "I think Wash needs your attention or am I wrong?"

Tucker still was staring but then he blinked a few times. "Erm…" he said then slowly. "Dude, I think you didn't mean it the way it just came across." Tucker could have sworn that it wasn't just Grif this time who smirked. "I totally meant it like that." Again Tucker was staring at Grif who grinned like an ass. Simmons buried his face in the others neck as if to hide it from Tucker. The teal soldier then caught himself again and shot them a glare. "Dude, what the fuck?"

Tucker sure got what Grif meant. But what he didn't understand was how he came to say that. The teal soldier sat next to the still unconscious Freelancer. He had his leg stretched out in front of him and gave the two others a dirty look while bracing his weight on the hands behind his back. It wasn't like he or Wash acted different at all. Heck, it wasn't even really like something was going on between them. Since they made out after the party and Tucker got a black eye from the Freelancer nothing much changed. It happened occasionally that they slept on the same bed and maybe Wash was a little more relaxed when they were alone. But asides from that? Nothing.

They didn't cuddle in bed or anything and a kiss once or twice was about everything that happened so far.

Every innuendo was either ignored or quashed as before and pretty much every physical approach from Tuckers side was blocked. And if Wash was blocking that was about the same thing as if Tucker tried to run against a wall.

"Man you're stupid Tucker. And I thought you were actually kind of smart."

"You are stupid, asshole. You misunderstand something here." Grunted the youngest. But when Grifs grin grew more and more, he just knew he was screwed. Tucker narrowed his eyes at him. "What?" he asked harsher than he intended.

"Oh, I know why you got the black eye the other day" Grif said in a voice that held a very mean and evil tone. Tucker opened and closed his mouth a few times. Then, "How?" That was the best he managed. He saw Grif grin cockily and heard Simmons snort against his neck, though the maroon soldier looked up curiously too.

"Lets say I kept him company while got wasted. It was hilarious, really. Especially how straight he was about the fact that he was planning to hit the bottle because he was majorly pissed about you trying to jump on his bones."

That was it. The whole situation was so fucked up and had been such a failure that even Tucker felt his face heat up. Oh fucking god, why would Wash tell Grif this!? Sure he was kinda drunken but still!?

"Holy shit he told you that!?" Tucker blurted and for once his voice cracked a little too. "Why!?" He thought it was impossible but Grif grinned even more. "I asked him." He said and as Tucker was staring with his mouth open he added. "Funny how honest the guy sometimes is, huh?"

Oh god, Tucker thought. I wanna die.

"Come on, it's really obvious what was up between you the night after the party. It's just the question what you are intending to achieve with your behavior. Wash obviously was as clueless as I am." Tucker knew he was so gonna kill Grif instead of dying himself. At least he thought that after he managed to get his derailed face back under control. This was just great! Why had Grif to know about that? And what was that about the nonsense about something being up between him and Wash? There was nothing! Which, in Tuckers case, kind of was the problem.

"Well…" he said uncertainly because yeah… what was he supposed to answer to that?

"If you don't know it yourself better make up your mind."

Fuck you dude!

"How am I supposed to make up my mind when not knowing what Wash is thinking?!" That was the best Tucker could come up with. And it was even halfway the truth. He had no clue what Wash was thinking half of the time. Or most of the time, really. Wash was so complicated and contradictory it was almost impossible to understand him. Tucker knew how to deal with Wash in certain situations or understood what specific reactions meant. But he had never really a clue what was on the guys mind.

And more than that he couldn't really say the truth about his motives to Grif.

Well, see I'm a ball of sexual frustration and Wash is actually really hot and I definitely need to get laid again. Would probably do some good to him, too, to have something else up his ass instead of a stick for a chance.

Yeah, no way he could say that because he wasn't going to hear the end of it. Also, yeah, fine, Wash was important to him. He cared about the Freelancer a lot. He liked him when he wasn't being a total dick. But when Tucker looked at Grif and Simmons he thought: Nope, absolutely not what he wanted from Wash.

Speaking of the devil, the guy had the perfect timing to save Tucker when he suddenly shifted with a low groan. "Hey Wash?" The teal soldier asked as he leaned over the Freelancer. He groaned again and even only half conscious he tried to reach for his neck and Tucker quickly held his hand down. "Woah, don't touch the neck, dude!"

Grif and Simmons came over to check on them but then left again for their corner. Great. It took Wash a couple of minutes until he actually managed to blink his eyes open with an incoherent sound. "Ah… shit…" the blonde man muttered and tried to push himself up. Tucker reached out but then hesitated. Well, touching or even holding down Wash when he wasn't fully aware of his surroundings had proved to be a very unhealthy idea in the past. "Careful or you knock yourself out again" grumbled the younger a bit unsure. Man, Wash probably should keep laying. But no, the guy did always stuff normal people wouldn't. Fucking idiot. When Wash managed to sit halfway upright, he looked at Tucker. He was blinking as if to clear his vision and his Eyes were somewhat unfocussed. Hopefully no concussion. "Tucker?"

"Uh, yeah, great to see your brain still works." The younger said at loss of something smart. Even with an expression of confusion and pain in his face Wash actually manages to give him a dirty look. "Uh... how's the neck?" Tucker tried to change the topic.

"It hurts" Wash replied in a voice that said clearly obviously. Tucker winces but only until Wash reaches for his neck again. "Don't do that", the younger snapped harsher than he intended and grabbed Washs arm. He felt the man tense but relax then. "Dude, digging your fingers into a wound ain't healthy. And it freaks people out. Not just me. Simmons and Grif too." Tucker pointed over to the two and Wash followed his pointing, looked at the two and then back at Tucker. He's still blinking way too much but his eyes were clearer than before. He clenched his fist a few times.

"You okay Wash?" Tucker asked as he noticed it.

"Do you know what a reflex is, Tucker?"

"Uh… yeah. The sort of thing you do on your own without being able to help about it. Like when my hand sneaks down every-"

"What I say is that I have to surpass touching the injurie, okay?" Wash cut in. "What you said is called neurotic. Or maybe chronic in your case." Oh great. That Wash couldn't relax or take it easy was nothing new. But that the guy had to be pert even now. "Asshole", Tucker said.

Wash closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He swayed even in his sitting position and so the teal soldier reached out to put a hand on his back and steady him. His hand lay between Wash shoulder blades and the older squinted at him first. But he closed his eyes then, taking a few minutes to just sit there and breathe calmly. He probably was collecting himself. Tucker knew he always made sure he was composed before he did something.

"Why did you go inside the cave anyway?" Wash asked then quietly.

"Yeah about that… Remember the Feds that were picking fight all the time? Well, I saw them sneaking off here and followed them with Grif." Tucker felt how Wash immediately stiffened at that. He snapped his eyes open and looked at the sealed entrance, then at Simmons and Grif before his eyes fixed on Tucker.

"How many?"