A/N: CS- What's this? We're uploading what could just be described as, *le gaspe*, regularly? This must be a dream… or a nightmare. Quick! FI! Punch me in the face!

FI- With pleasure.

CS-...

CS- (reappears, clutching broken nose) Thanks. Welp, this is the reality I live in, now. We ain't in Kansas no more, Toto. Ah well. Better make the most of it, I guess.

Chapter 9: It's not his fault

"So," Wash eventually monotoned. "Your brilliant plan to escape from yourself is to…?"
"Uh…" Grif scratched the back of his head out of the corner of Church's eye and looked at him.

"Get away from this gulch," he supplied.

"And not, you know, actually do anything about Simm-silon?" Tucker asked.

"We were getting there!" Church defended. "I was kinda preoccupied, though." Wash raised his eyebrows and Grif nodded his head to the next room, where Caboose was happily making Kai far too much hot chocolate for anyone except maybe her and Grif to humanely be able to drink.

"Yeah. And you conveniently forgot that you yourself are, in fact, an android yourself?"
Church glared. "So?"
Wash leant forward, resting his elbows on his legs and adopting a serious, teachery expression. "You could get hacked," he explained. "And if you get hacked, that would be bad."

Grif sat back in awe. "Shite," he murmured. Heck, Church seriously charged into that without a second spared for himself. He paused, his eyes going wide. Wait, is this what'll happen to me over Simmons?

Wash groaned into his hands, which were now cradling his head. "Right. So. Run me through what happened."

[...]

Flashback to a few hours ago- are you sure it's not one

week? Yes? No? Right, yes, it is only a few hours.

"Plan of action?" Grif puffed, trying to catch up to the holy hell he's fast as fuck! cobalt blue… well, blue.

"Seeing if we can get round to that beach thing at the back of the base," Church called back, much more comfortable in the arms of Caboose than Grif was running along behind them. "We've only been back there once, so we're not sure if we can still get to them. Worth having a look, though we haven't been here in ten seasons. So we've no clue."

"Right."

They rounded a corner, and Grif made to keep going as the sandy yellow-grey cliffs all looked the same, before he heard a hiss of "Fuck!"
Church's head flopped downwards, even as his seething voice continued. "Fuck, cock and balls, goddamn son of a bitch! Don't repeat any of that, Caboose."
"Okay!"

"Fucking boulders, fucking landslides… Grif!" Church's tone was sharp. "Any other suggestions?"
"The caves?" he suggested. We don't know if those lead out of the gulch or not, we could try to explore them. Or you could try to sneak out of the back of Red Base, I think our beach is open."
"Too risky. I'm not risking Caboose anywhere near your cyborg pal." Grif's chest twisted uncomfortably with indignation at Church's mistrust of Simmons. Church sighed, and the fabric seemed to sag. "Caves it is, then."

"Right." Grif wasn't really looking where he was going as much as he was automatically following Caboose out of the corner of his eye. Damn you, newfound feeling interfering with my life, he mentally cursed. And to Church, It's not his fault! It's not his fault I got run over, that Sarge hates my guts so much! It's not his fault you decided to take him over, it's not his fault you're so obsessed with Caboose. It's not his fault, it's not.

He glanced back to Red Base, just to look, and saw Simm-silon sitting in front of his computer, spinning round, round and round in his swively-chair. Swivel, swivel, swivel… Grif remembered doing that. He also remembered Simmons catching him, and how the maroon ex-soldier hated anyone doing it. So he'd never be doing it himself. Grif felt a pang of sympathy for him, imagining the obsessive compulsive personality itching to not be able to stop Epsilon from spinning on his chair. Before he realised that said AI would be able to see him right now, and it would probably not be a good idea to be spotted. Thankfully, Caboose had by now gotten halfway up the hill, that sheltering him and Church from view. Grif decided it would maybe just about be a good idea to follow.

"What were you just playing at?" Church hissed. "I almost saw you!"

"Yeah, but you didn't. So chill."

"Yeah, well," Church trailed off. "Just be careful, okay? Same goes for you as well, Caboose."

"Okay!"

[...]

Grif held in another howl if pain as he stubbed his toe in the darkness YET AGAIN… "Think of chocolate, think of Oreos, think of ice-cream-"

"We get it," Church snapped, irritated. "You like food. No need to make us nearly throw up because of it." The blue body pillow seemed quite the opposite of what a body-pillow was meant to do- tense, snappy, all around not particularly nice. Caboose didn't seem to mind, but then again, Caboose was Caboose.

They (Grif and Caboose) edged along a ridge that stuck out only a metre or two. It might seem a fine width, but when one of the walls was non-existent, and was replaced with a ravine deep as the shit they were in, you can't be too careful.

"Who's idea was this?"

"Yours!" Caboose helpfully supplied.

A bright beam of light cut through the darkness like a superheated knife, illuminating a cave just ahead that opened onto their pathway. Tucker stepped down from his slightly elevated perch, grinning when they cowered away from the powerful beam of his torch like vampires. "You know what, somehow I doubt it was my idea."

"Oh." Caboose looked between Grif and Tucker slightly sadly. "I thought you were Grif, Tucker."

"Yeah, no. How the fuck did you manage to get us mixed up?" Grif demanded.

"Hey, cut him some slack!" Church glared at them both, his tone harsh. "The darkness can be disorientating, okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Tucker mumbled under his breath, and turned around again. "Found 'em!" he yelled.

"Great!" Wash yelled back. Turned out he didn't really need to, as he climbed out of the exact same cave Tucker did. "Let's go. You lot have some explaining to do."

[...]

"...and now we're here, doing that explaining thing you asked us to do."
Wash nodded. "Thanks for that. Okay, the first thing I'd like to say is what did you think Epsilon would do if he saw you?"

"Uh… kidnap Caboose and kill Simmons?"

The ex-Freelancer shook his head, frowning slightly over to Grif. "Nope. You're acting under the assumption that Epsilon will act. The thing is that Epsilon has no clue that we know Simmons is being controlled by him. He has no reason to act."

"So…" Church started slowly, Something like incredulance in his tone. "You're saying what, we should go up to him, put on a pretty little lightshow, complete with confetti, and let him kill us?"
Wash just glared. "Obviously not. Like I said before, in case you weren't listening, he doesn't know you do. We can very easily sort this out properly by doing as he says. For now, at least."
"Fine." Church agreed reluctantly, disgruntled in the face of logic. We'll go check Epsilon out."

Grif nodded, standing to follow, but like earlier, he was on autopilot. He had just one thought as Wash ushered them back towards Red Base, assuring them that he and Tucker would be there momentarily.

[...]

"What about Simmons?"