Chapter four: We all try in our own way

After the more or less normal breakfast, Wash had Grif and Tucker do their usual drills. Of course they had a different things to do and also a different amount of it. After all Tucker was already used to the drills and had by far the better stamina to begin with than Grif. Or more like Grif had no stamina at all. They complained a lot but Wash was still the opinion that he was pretty nice to them. Considering Carolina who would occasionally let them run until they actually either puked or collapsed that was nothing.

Tucker had been done a while back already and went to swimming lesson with Palamo. As for Grif, it would take a while until he finished his laps. Wash had actually other things to do than accompany him to make sure he did his drills. But well, he hadn't much of a choice. And even if Grif annoyed him this morning, it was kind of his responsibility(even if Sarge insisted that the read team was only under his command).

The thing about running laps with Grif was that they still were walking or jogging slowly half of the time. But Wash realized that forcing Grif to run until he almost collapsed didn't help. Unlike Tucker, Grif would actually collapse after five to six laps. A long way to go but at least he was making progress. Even if these were small ones.

Right now they were walking. Wash was a few steps ahead of Grif. He still was kinda annoyed with him for the conversation this morning. So he also made sure that whenever the orange soldier thought he could say something annoying or cocky or actually anything in general, Wash made sure he run fast enough so he couldn't talk anymore.

Wash glanced back then to see if Grif was up to run or at least jog again. That was when he caught him doing something he saw a lot lately. Grif had an arm on his belly, similar to pregnant women sometimes. The first clue would be stitches in the side. But the hand was more on the abdomen than on the side. And Wash noticed that Grif did that also under other circumstances. Also only when he thought no one saw it. But of course Wash noticed. He was an observer.

"Hey, Grif", Wash said, making the younger look up. "Are you in pain?"

The question obviously confused Grif because Wash saw the frown behind the visor. "No, I'm not."

"Just thought because I see you put your hand on your stomach a lot lately" replied Wash and let himself fall back until he was on a level with Grif again.

"Just hungry a lot because of your fucking training", the orange soldier grumbled. He was a pretty decent lair but there was one thing that tripped Wash over the lie. "You always let us know loudly when you are hungry. Or at least your stomach does."

Grif shot Wash a glare at that but the Freelancer hardly was impressed. So he continued.

"Look, if something is not okay you should say it or show it to Grey. Because I saw someone do that before. Hand on the belly. And after hearing Tuckers story with his, uh, kid I'm pretty sure the guy was actually impregnated by an Alien." In fact, Washington had been really horrified about the realization that the aliens could impregnate you. He fought on the front line against them before he joined the project and he didn't know that.

Grif first stopped walking to look at him for a second or two before he continued. "Everything's okay. And as far I know there's no alien around and I can't get pregnant from Simmons. So fucking leave me alone with that", he snapped dismissively. Wash raised an eye ridge.

"Alright, alright. Not my fault when you feel attacked by my quotes" Wash said, using exactly Grifs words from the morning on purpose.

"Up yours" the orange soldier hissed and sped up his steps.

"I don't think so" Wash replied lightly. "And since it appears that you can pretty well put your nose in other peoples business but can't stand it if they do it with yours, you might just as well start running again."

Grif groaned and cursed something but actually started to jog again without a second doubt. That alone was more or less screaming that Grif was hiding something. But instead of saying anything, Wash started to jog again as well. As long as it didn't seem to be a physical problem he wasn't going to press it. He didn't like it if people did it on him either.

Grif was still slow and most of the time he was gasping or staggering ahead but in the end, they finished the laps sooner than usual. This time it was also Grif who pushed himself without Wash having to force him. But nonetheless the orange soldier collapsed as soon as he was done, laying there on his back and panting. "Well", Wash said, looking down at him. "That wasn't even half bad… for your standards."

Grifs answer was the middle finger. "Up yours, now get lost!"

"Actually, I should make you run extra laps too for being disrespectful, just so you know" he said but then left the younger with a shake of his head. Grif didn't look like he was actually able to run any more at the moment. So Wash left him and made his way to Carolina to see what else needed to be done. If there was nothing arising that needed attention right away he usually was helping to train the recruits or went with teams on patrol and things.

The soldiers here were all eager and most of them collegial and acted pretty respectful towards their crew. However, the fewest of them were good soldiers.

ooo

Tucker definitely was the opinion that things between him and Wash could be better. But the Freelancers personality given, they probably could be worse, too. So Tucker would take what he could get. Their daily interactions were about the same as always but he guessed that didn't mean much. In private things were still about the same. Wash was a bit more relaxed which actually was a good thing. Because he often acted like he had a stick up his ass. But more than making out and certain touches was still a no go. Maybe because of the stick…

It maybe would be less frustrating if he could at least jerk off in his bed. But since he shared his room with Wash... well. Let's just say that he wouldn't care to jerk of with the Freelancer around. But he was pretty sure that said Freelancer would strangle him for it.

Thinking about it, Wash seemed somewhat on the edge today when Tucker came into the kitchen in the morning. Either that was because he didn't sleep enough or because Grif had annoyed him. If it was the second, Tucker only hoped the orange soldier didn't say anything strange. You know, about what they talked sometimes. He definitely did interrupt something there. Either way, they were going to do their drills as always.

Normally Tucker had to do about twice as many laps and squats as Grif and some additional shit like push ups and all (he could complain as much as he wanted that it was unfair, Wash would just remind him that he didn't have to do more than Grif at the beginning too.) But since he had to take swimming lessons his other drills had been redacted to the same as Grif. With the difference that Tucker had his laps done much faster than Grif. He did it since months after all and his condition had been much better from the beginning.

So once he was done, Wash stayed with Grif to make sure he actually kept up the running while Tucker went to the old building with the old and stinky pool.

He did make progress with the swimming lesson. Just not as much as he probably should. At that point, Tucker managed to swim one lap before he had to crawl back to land and rest. Because holy fuck, swimming was worse than running.

It probably wouldn't be as bad if he and Grif actually would do something instead of just talking and laying around as soon as Wash left them. Or if he had someone else to help than Palamo.

Tucker really, really tried to drown that guy by accident. But nooo, he was about as fucking stupid as Caboose. Whenever Tucker tried to swim up to him and drown him, the guy would swim faster so to 'keep up with his motivation'. Go damn it.

That was why they ended up in situations like that fairly often. Palamo was happily swimming in the water like a fucking fish and Tucker was once again hanging over the edge of the pool, panting.

"Uh, are you already done?" Palamo asked and Tucker really, really wished he could swim better even if it was just to kill the guy. But luckily he had another reason to get the guy off his back now. He saw Simmons who entered the hall and headed towards them. "Hey Palamo? Were done here. Go back to… whatever you did before."

"But... Washington said-"

"I know what Wash said. But I'm your captain and I say go the fuck away and do something else", groaned Tucker, still awkwardly hanging over the edge of the pool.

"But he is your commanding officer, right? So-"

"For fucks sake, Palamo! Me and Simmons are going to, uh, discuss captain stuff and all. Secrets stuff, okay?" Snapped Tucker. Palamo hesitated but eventually he indeed left. Tucker let his head fall ageist the tiles with a sigh.

"If he annoys you that much, why didn't you sent him off earlier?" Simmons asked him, causing the younger to grunt. "The guy starts to fucking listen to Wash."

"That sucks."

"Tell me about it…" muttered the teal soldier and glanced up. He knew Simmons was allowed to walk around normally and all again. Just no heavy work and stuff. Though, sex with Grif seemed to be no problem. "If you are looking for Grif, he will be at least busy for another hour with running."

"I uh… actually I meant to talk to you." Simmons said and his voice had this nervous crack in it. Tucker frowned up to him vaguely suspicious. "Yeah?" What would Simmons want to talk about with him? Sex advice? Or maybe… "It's about Grif."

Okay, sex advice was a good chance.

"Yeah, okay… just uh, help me out of the pool? I think I'm dying."

With a heavy sigh Simmons put his books on the bench and went over to Tucker to help him out of the water. He legs felt like jelly when he finally stood and toddled over to the bench where his towel was.

"You are doing the swimming movements way too fast. Keep your fingers together to make something like fins out of it to give the water a real drag to bring you forward. Same with the speed. Better making long and strong movement instead of so fast jerking like you did. It'll save up strength and makes you swim more easily." Explained Simmons and Tucker could have sworn that he was just fucking repeating what Grif told him all the time.

The younger grunted unhappily and warped himself tightly in the towel. It had rained yesterday and the temperature wasn't as high as usually. And he was exhausted and so it felt even chillier for him. He hated swimming.

Tucker sat down on the bench next to Simmons, looking at him with a frown: he waited for the cyborg to say something but nothing happened. All he did was knead his fingers. "So you wanted to talk to me about Grif?" started Tucker then

"Well yeah… I have the intention that he's acting strange lately. He's always wearing wide clothes. Almost anxious to not show his body anymore. Not even I have seen him lately without clothes." Simmons voice was close to cracking once again and Tucker frowned deeper. Wide clothes? Well, sure. Grif lost a lot of weight after the intoxication and Washs training. So that made sense, right?

"If you try to talk about it with him, he always gives evasive answers. If you go into it, he'll suddenly gets angry and snappy and often just walks away, only to return some time later and acting as if nothing happened." Explained Simmons further, running his hands over his face. He sounded frustrated.

So all in all Tucker wasn't the type you went to if you wanted a serious and worry based conversation: he was really bad with that. And besides that he wasn't even really close with Simmons. They managed with each other, like most of them did

"I wanted to ask you if you perhaps noticed something or if he told you something. Why he's acting so off lately." Finished Simmons then his short monologue, looking at Tucker curiously. Tucker frowned once again and shifted. "Can I ask you something first?"

"Uhm… sure, I guess?"

"So you just have sex in the dark?"

Alone to see Simmons turn redder then his armor and staring at the ground was worth it all. It took the poor guy a few minutes before he even was able to nod faintly.

"Boring."

Simmons glanced at him, still flushed in a deep crimson. "It's like that since the food intoxication! If the light is not out, he blocks me each time." Squealed Simmons in a very high pitched voice. "He also won't let me touch his mid-section." Ah well, shit. Simmons sounded genuinely sad and worried. And even if they weren't exactly friends, Tucker probably should help him anyway.

Since Church was moving more and more away from them and things with Wash were so weird, Grif had become pretty much what Tucker considered as best pal. And he was trying to help him with Wash. So he probably owned him that, huh?

"Well, he didn't exactly say something. Though he also is wearing a shirt now when he has to help me with swimming." Tucker said thoughtfully. Lights out when having sex, not showing his body, not wanting to be touched... and Tucker thought he sometimes saw him laying a hand on his belly, too.

"Well, if I wouldn't know that there is no alien around I would say he's pregnant." After that remark Simmons looked at him like he just turned out to be an alien.

"Look, I have no fucking clue, okay? But if you want me to I can find it out."

Simmons looked rather warily but in the end, he sighed. "And how do you want to do that? Grif won't even talk to me. He just gets angry if you keep asking."

Tucker grinned vaguely at Simmons. "Exactly. If he does not want to talk, I just drive him crazy until he snaps. He's gonna spill it out that way sooner or later."

"That's the plan…!? Picking fights with Grif over whatever is bothering him?" the maroon soldier asked incredulous. Tucker kept smiling.

"Yeah, it's perfect. Besides, remember that we used to be mortal enemies for years. Unlike you, I'm fine with Grif yelling at me and insulting me and shit, if it comes down to it."

"But... but I thought you two were buddies now?"

Tucker shrugged but this time the smile disappeared from his face. "Well, yeah, kinda I guess. But you know. I'm friends with Church. That guy certainly used to insult and yell at me for less than whatever Grifs problem is. So no big deal."

They were quiet for a moment before Tucker smirked again. "Besides, he can't be worse than Wash once the guy loses his temper. That is something I'd be worried about."

Tucker wasn't sure what but he must have said something weird. Because Simmons was giving him one of these looks. "That doesn't sound really good, you know? I mean I ain't any better, but that doesn't sound like you're okay with everybody just shouting at you."

Oh, that? After so many years of doing not much more but yelling, insulting and attempting to kill each other Tucker never really considered that it would sound strange to someone if he said he was okay with that. Or that someone bothered.

"I'm okay with it. So I'll go look for your honey." Shrugged Tucker the subject off, standing up and leaving for the shower. He didn't want to talk about it. It probably sounded worse than it was to others, right? He was just kind of used to getting yelled at and all. Because you know, that happened to all of them, right? And half of the time people didn't even mean to be so harsh. Probably.

Anyway, he needed to get dressed and find Grif.