Chapter fourteen: Not very good with it

Wash followed Carolina as they made their way to the current government building. When they found time to spare with each other or were testing leftover Freelancer equipment they did it in the backyard somewhere there. On the parade ground they just drew too much attention and there were always people gathering around to watch. It was just contra productive and would end similar to this morning (Wash told the soldiers to finish another five laps before returning to their duties. Apparently, no one had a clue how long they were running thanks to Kaikaina).

"Say Wash, was there a reason you told Tucker we are siblings?" Carolina asked him as she glanced over her shoulder.

"Not really, actually. Tucker has just been on my back about things" he admitted. "I just wanted to see his face."

Carolina was quiet for a moment. But when she spoke again, Wash could almost hear her grin. "You don't mean he has being jealous, now do you?"

The older grunted and rolled his eyes. Was Carolina going to annoy him about his unorthodox relationship with Tucker as well? "I guess that's a word." It wasn't like Carolina didn't know something was going on with them. And something still seemed the right word in Washs opinion.

Epsilon flickered over Carolinas shoulder and groaned loudly. "I'm starting to wonder if Donut actually is turning everyone around" the A.I. complained. But he kept his bluish color. Wash couldn't always exactly tell what the colors meant. But he knew purple edged towards worry. Red was anger.

"I don't think it has anything to do with Donut. And wasn't Tucker always like that?" replied Wash, avoiding to react on his position in Epsilons statement. Mainly because he actually still wasn't quite sure what he would answer if someone was to ask him about his sexual orientation. He definitely found girls more attractive than men.

"Well, yeah. Why you think we were mostly insulting each other? Go figure."

Wash again rolled his eyes. It wasn't like he and Epsilon didn't get along at all. Church just was an easily irritated and cynical guy. So he was quick to be annoyed by other people. And Wash didn't like his personality that much. But nothing out of the ordinary.

"What I wonder is how you guys actually survived each other."

"Quite frankly, I didn't" snorted Epsilon just as they reached the basement where they kept the few intact equipment.

"Are you done, boys? It's time to get to work."

OOO

The practice with the holographic projection doesn't go half as bad as Wash actually thought it would. It was still far from acceptable though. This was one of the few equipment's that you could be using without help of an A.I and not risking to kill yourself.

Wash never used it himself but he saw Connie, no, C.T. with it. She had been precise with the hologram like no one else managed. Only her knife skills were more impressive. And the way she could make the meanest joke and you would forget it as soon as she showed one of her sweet smiles.

Wash wondered why he was thinking about the other Freelancers so much lately. He really shouldn't. Especially not while sparing with Caroline. He should know punches from her you weren't prepared for were even worse than normal.

Ouch.

In the end it took them the whole afternoon until it worked halfway with the holographic projection. Epsilon helped them with it, though sometimes he was more getting on their nerves than anything else. Either way, for once the two Freelancer made it back in time for dinner. That was more the exception than the rule lately.

Of course the dinner was the same as the breakfast. Pancakes. Pancakes to no end. And Carolina seriously had to ask where these all came from.

OOO

The next morning was pretty much like always. The four of them got up together, today accompanied by Kaikaina and Caboose. They ate the rest of the pancakes from Donut and it was actually rather peaceful for once. Grif looked a little insecure again, as if someone hit the reset button over the night. But oh well. Things like this didn't get fixed overnight.

The daily exercises went rather normal too. Wash had made the compromise with Grif that he still had to do all his drills, though he was giving him as much time as Grif thought he needed. It was better than nothing. Simmons was kind of lurking around just in case and Kaikaina was running with Tucker, again taunting him for being slower. Letting her run seemed a good idea to Wash. It kept her busy and would get her tired. Or so he hoped. But the girl never seemed to run out of stamina.

He let Caboose run today too because his team was relocating with different vehicles to an outpost. And it didn't seem very save to let him help there. Or to let him toddle after Carolina and Epsilon.

But Caboose, Tucker and Kaikaina together were like kindergarten kids, much to Washs annoyance and Grifs dismay.

After Grif was done, he and Simmons went back to the house. Grey had insisted to talk to Grif again and see what exactly was up with him. Just to be safe and everything. As the others were done, Wash had Kaikaina and Caboose pick up more of these strange fruits. It seemed something halfway usefully with low chances of anyone getting seriously hurt. Hopefully…

Since Tucker was a halfway decent swimmer by now Wash also choose he didn't have to take more lessons at the moment. Instead. He made him take over stealthy and infiltration training Grif usually was doing. Not that either of them was master in this. But Grif wasn't half bad if he would learn how to use his tricks in battle.

Wash for his part started another round of training with Carolina. It went about as good as yesterday. Holograms were tricky. You needed perfect timing, the exactly right angle and perfect matching movement to make it work. Otherwise it was easy to see which one was the created hologram and which one was the original. It was really everything but easy. Especially not with Epsilon being a know-it-all and Carolina and him arguing how to do this best. Ironically enough it was Wash who was working with the hologram, not Carolina. He let them fight though, something along the line of when two people quarrel, a third rejoices.

He got a message soon from Grey though, saying she was all done with Grif (her creepy wording, not his) and he should come to the house. So they stopped the training for the day and Carolina left to meet Kimball and Doyle.

When entering the house, Wash still wasn't sure why he had to come. He didn't think he was much of a help here. Not like Grif and he were close friends or something. So Wash didn't see how he could do anything. He wasn't good with dealing with this.

But he figured he should listen and try. Because even if Carolina and Epsilon were leading them, he was basically the one responsible for these chaotic idiots.

Because someone had to care about these things. It wasn't something Sarge or the others were too good with.

When Wash came upstairs, Grey and Simmons were already waiting and he greeted them shortly. Grey had a Cheshire smile as always and explained without much of beating around the bush what she came up with.

"As suspected, Captain Grif is facing a burn out, combined with a slight depression. But luckily you guys managed it to catch him up before it got too bad. So there's a high chance that he will get back to his older self without aftermaths." She sounded unsettlingly happy for what she told them.

Wash nodded. That's about what he suspected.

"And what can we do to help him?"

"Basically: Nothing. Just be as usual. It'll help him most." Wash could literally see Simmons enthusiasm disappear. Grey turned to face him.

"For you counts the same. And don't try to be over protective. Be there for him if he needs you, but don't try to keep everything away from him. Because if you do so, he could get an even worse depression if he suddenly gets all the repressions and attacks you shielded him before. Besides: I don't want you both on my couch in the next months. Meaning: Don't push yourself too hard to help Grif. He's strong, he accomplishes a lot you don't suspect him to." Explained the doctor, switching in her speech between seriously calm and hysterical giggles.

Wash observed how Simmons hung his head a little more He could understand how you wanted to protect who you held dear at all cost. He really did. But he spent over half of his live in military, in war and battle and he knew that it was just impossible. And if you didn't learn that you were doomed to break.

The thing was just, these guys didn't know real war. They were just now stumbling into it.

"I guess that means also that I have to watch out to not get over protected by him too?" asked the cyborg.

"Basically, yes. That also causes some kind of stress. But I don't know how much this point had an effect on the break down. Perhaps you have to find it out yourself."

Again Simmons nodded but all he apparently wanted was to go inside and check on Grif. So he left Wash and Grey back on the floor. Grey, in her horrible flowered outfit, was watching him closely. "My I do an analysis with you now? I'm so in the mood" she asked.

"No, you can't. Just tell me what happened that Grif had such a breakdown." Wash said, a little annoyed because Grey had bothered him with that request already at the Feds base.

"Oh, well. I can't make a 100% correct analysis. The mind is a complexes thing and we never will be able to really understand it without seeing inside it. Maybe not even then." Grey said happily and Wash narrowed his eyes at her. She didn't seem to notice.

"Thing is, Captain Grif doesn't seem to have depressing tendencies or anything in general. To me it seems he had just been facing too many things he felt he should be responsible for at one time. And he wasn't able to get everything straight. That probably threw him in this hole." She continued. "It's just important he doesn't locks everything up. That isn't very healthy."

Wash wasn't stupid. He knew Grey was talking about Grif – but not only.

"You don't have to look at me like that. I'm fine."

"Uh-hu."

"I'm having no depression, bipolar disorder, borderline symptoms, delusions or nightmares, the insomnia is in an acceptable deviation and I didn't have panic attacks or anything like that in forever. No numb or empty feeling and nothing else that often comes with post traumatic stress disorder." He said, more dully than intended. "So could we focus on Grif again?"

Grey smiled. "I'd really like to analyze you. Don't quite agree with your files. Also, you did have episodes of delusion back at the Federal base."

"That's because I had a near death experience there and was drugged up to no end" he replied with a frustrated growl. Because why was he even having this conversation?

"Ugh." Wash uncrossed his arms and shook his head. "You know what? I think I'll just check on him." He muttered and Grey happily nodded, saying he could talk to her whenever he wanted. But he really did neither have time nor the nerve to talk with her about things he talked about for years and fucking false files.

So instead he went to the door and knocked shortly before entering. Rounding the wardrobe, he could see Simmons and Grif on the bed, the orange soldier leaning against his boyfriend. Grif looked somewhat warily at him and so Wash decided to take off his helmet and put it down on the chair Grey brought. It would give Grif more the feeling of being on one level instead of being looked down.

Wash didn't say anything right away but Grif seemed to wait for this so Wash cleared his throat shortly before asking, "How are you feeling? Survived the crazy doc?"

Somehow he figured he should be better at that.

"I… feel fine. I guess. Just tired. And a bit confused." Said Grif somewhat absently. "And yeah, I guess all limps are still in here and in place as they should be. Although I doubt I should say that with my body." While Grif managed a small smile, Wash noticed that Simmons looked somewhat unhappy about it. On the other hand, Grifs smile didn't reach his eyes. He also was looking at his arms where he had two different skin types.

"Well… I see how you feel confused after talking to Grey for two hours. I talked to her for two minutes and I think I'm confused", explained the Freelancer with a shrug. That probably wasn't what worried Grif, thought.

"Yeah… she's hardcore crazy. But she's capable. At least I hope so", muttered Grif. Wash smirked just the slightest. "I'm pretty sure she is. I mean capable. And, well, crazy too. But still."

Well, smooth. Wash dragged one hand through his hair, then rested it in his neck. "Either way, I talked to Carolina before. We can send your sister home in a few days."

Grif, still looking at himself, grunted. "At least we can try."

Wash grimaced. That was true. Kai seemed to like it here. "We'll manage that", he just said. "By the way, she is peacefully picking fruits now."

Only now Grif looked up, still somewhat wary. "Peacefully picking fruits? Don't you think it's more-"

Grif was cut short by a loud crashing from outside. Sounded like someone did just log a tree. "You suck, you fucktard!" yelled Kaikaina loudly. "It wasn't me! Tucker did it!" Caboose screamed back. The noise continued and Wash got up to close the half open window. He sighed, resisting the urge to hit his head against the glass. You couldn't leave them alone for two seconds.

"I don't even want to know how they did that…" he muttered before facing the two red soldiers again. Simmons was always close to Grif. But he was just listening silently. Grif on the other hand… he didn't seem unwilling to talk. He just needed a little bit of a push. Which Wash usually didn't give. He was more the opinion that someone should talk if he wanted to and not if he was pushed. But not everyone was like him.

For a moment he stood just at the window, hands braced against the windows board, looking at Grif who rubbed a hand over one of the scars. Well, it was worth a try to talk, wasn't it?

"Does it hurt?" Wash asked, bringing the mans attention back on him. "Or does it just… bother you?"

Grif frowned and hesitated with his answer. As if he wasn't sure what to say. Or if he should say something at all. "It hurts. Every now and then. But I guess that's something I have to live with. I guess. At least I'm living, right?" he finally answered. Wash didn't need to pay much attention to know it wasn't that simple. The wariness in Grifs voice was so obvious. It was like it was screaming 'self-conscious.' Wash knew a thing or two about that feeling.

"Well, yeah. Such scars always hurt a bit. It's basically non-recoverable damage on a body. They always hurt a little. Sometimes more, mostly when the weather changes." Wash also knew a thing or two about scars.

"What actually happened with you two? It looks quite, well, brutal."

Again Grif hesitated and looked away. He was quiet so Wash shrugged and added, "I just realized I never asked. You don't have to tell me now. Doesn't makes a difference whether or not you tell me by now."

But Grif shrugs then. "I got run over by a tank. Sarge didn't want to make me a cyborg, as it would be a waste of material. Simmons then let himself turn into a cyborg so that Sarge would use the left overs of Simmons to patch me up. Although I'm wondering myself why he did that anyway. Because, well, he wants to see me dead." Summed the orange soldier up.

Wash wasn't sure if he wanted to tell them that this made no fucking sense or if he wanted to ask how Sarge knew about all this in the first place. What he managed after some stunned silence was something else.

"You still keep surprising me how easy you all take the whole attempting to kill each other thing."

"Either you take it easy or you go crazy", said Grif, almost grinning again.

"Obviously", muttered Wash, again running his hands over his face. "Who was driving the thing anyway?" He asked slowly. "Caboose?"

This time Simmons answered with a shake of his head. "No, he was just in love with Sheila. The tank, I mean. And well, he shot Church with it. But it had been Tucker driving then."

Wash was staring at the two soldiers. He wasn't sure what part of this confused him the most. "But… Tucker can't even drive a car." He said stupidly.

"Yeah, that's why he run Grif over. The idiot couldn't figure out which pedal to use."

Wash blinked a few times, still not quite sure how to feel. "I… this… I really don't know." He rubbed his hands over his face again.

"Well, that's the story how Simmons got a cyborg and how I got a flesh puzzle." Grif chuckled, but the humor seemed fake.

Wash looked at him again. "It does bother you, doesn't it?" he said trying to get back to a conversation that made sense.

"Sometimes."

"You aren't very good at lying, are you?"

Grif fell silent, looking away. Wash really wasn't sure if he was doing anything that actually helped. But still. "Is that why you were swimming with the shirt suddenly?"

"That conclusion doesn't make sense you know that?" replied Grif right away.

Now Wash again blinked stupidly. "If it really would bother me, then I would be swimming with the shirt all the time. What I didn't do."

"Well... it was just a guess. And you guys don't make sense half the time so..." Tried Wash to explain his question. He was slowly losing track of what this conversation actually was about.

"Which is why we got that far. If we would be predictable we already would be dead. All of us." Replied Simmons and Wash had to admit that this probably was true. Although he wondered how this didn't kill them so far, really.

"Good Point. Although I still think it's crazy luck." Stated Wash to Simmons comment, before turning to Grif, adding; "And I don't think you need to be self-conscious about this. I mean. I don't think it's weird. Especially not compared to everyone else." He had noticed the small flinch and how he looked away.

"Easy to say for you if are not in my position." Grumbled Grif. Wash knew he was right. And it probably did nothing more than sound like a smartass comment. Though, what else was there to do?

"You are right. It's always easier to talk if it isn't yourself. Still, personally I really don't think this is anything bad. Or strange, considering the company here. No one is really, well, right, I guess." Answered Wash to Grifs comment. All he meant was to say that no one here, well at least not him, was thinking Grif was a freak for his looks or anything.

"Look, Tucker has a c section scar from giving birth to an Alien. So yeah."

"May be that all of us are not so right." Replied Grif in his dull voice and Wash wasn't sure what he meant now. Was he going to comment the fact that Wash had also quite some issues? The Freelancer didn't notice how he tensed first. But once he did, he forced himself to relax.

"But it isn't about the scars. If you have forgotten, I wasn't that thin some weeks ago. And losing a lot of weight in a short period of time. Well, yeah…"

Wash furrowed his brows, observing Grif. "I guess we are not" he said about the whole not right thing. He wasn't sure if it came across the way he meant it. "But that is also because you poisoned yourself with the Oreo, right? I mean the loss of weight."

"Yeah." Answered Grif.

"And due to the training." Said Simmons.

"If it's not because of the scars, why are you wearing a shirt then?" asked Wash stupidly, really losing the track by now. He wasn't sure anymore what kind of conversation this was. Or why he was having it or what he hoped to get here. Somehow he didn't really know what to do with this.

"If you lose a lot of weight in a short period of time. Normally the skin isn't able to go back in the same time. And besides. I had been so fat some months ago, there's no possibility that the skin would get back. Only possibility is to cut away the redundant skin in a surgery." Wash had listened to Grifs explanation, seeing that it took him some effort to talk about it. Maybe it was the lack of sleep catching up on him but somehow he thought he was really slow at thinking at the moment.

"Oh."

That the skin would be hanging due to Grifs loss of weight was something Wash knew was going to happen when he let him do the drills. That was normal. It would go back after time, but it would take a while. He didn't consider this to worry a lot about. But he also didn't think about the loss of weight from the food poisoning. Grif had done not much more than puking for days. After a few seconds, Wash noticed that the two were looking at him, seemingly waiting for him to say something.

"I didn't think of that" admitted the Freelancer honestly. And realized right away that this statement probably was about as stupid as the previous 'Oh'. Simmons grimace was just confirming this. But he really didn't know what else to say. He was not made for this. He felt actually a little awkward with Simmons of all people who was somewhat chiding him with his look for being ineloquent.

"That's all you come up with as answer?" Grif questioned then. Wash looked up. He wasn't sure if Grif was seriously surprised this was all he came up with or if the guy was actually making fun of him. He felt a little insulted, actually. So he might have sounded somewhat sullen when he said, "What? No." He stopped though, realizing he didn't know what else to say. "I… well, yes. Apparently."

Wash sighed heavy with frustration. God damn it. He rubbed his hands over his face once again, taking some moments to collect himself so he could figure out to say something useful.

"Okay, look", the Freelancer said then, looking briefly at Simmons, then at Grif. He still was pressing his fingers of one hand against his temple. "I have no idea why I have this conversation with you." He offered bluntly. "As in, I don't really know what I expected when I decided I was going to have this conversation. Because I'm handling this about as good as I thought I would. Which, quite frankly, isn't very well." He continued, leaning back in the chair. "I just thought it was a good idea to talk. Or try. Because I figured I should do something at least and not let you two deal with this mess alone."

There was a short pause and Wash dragged a hand through his hair, resting it on his neck as he did often. "So yes, I guess that's all I can come up with. Because, no, I didn't think about your loss of weight and no, I never considered that the effects might bother you. And yes, I don't have a clue what you should say to this without sounding like a wise guy."

They were silent, all three of them for a very uncomfortable while. Wash waited, just thinking that this explanation probably sounded as stupid as the previous statements from his side. He could see how Grif shifted to cuddle closer to Simmons, not looking at Wash anymore. Frightened, apparently. "Sorry I offended you…" he muttered slowly. Wash outburst seemed to have made him feel insecure again (it wasn't an anger outburst. But still an outburst, he knew.)

Wash blinked. Oh boy. "Offended me?" he asked. "No, no, you didn't", he said, waving awkwardly with his free hand. He sighed heavily once more. "I'm not offended. Or angry with you. Or upset because we have the situation we do now." Wash paid attention this time to keep his voice calmer and steadier. He really wasn't sure what to do or say. But being their CO meant he had responsibilities for them. That didn't only include telling them what to do or preparing them for fights. Also they were his friends. So he should try to help somehow.

"I also don't think anything is wrong with you for feeling the way you do at the moment. Or the way you look, just so you know. I only meant to say that I feel a little overchallenged because I really don't know how to handle this situation." Explained the Freelancer again, more patient and not in the rush as before. "I guess that's kind of ironic, but still."

"Well, most of the people of the closer surrounding of a person having mental issues, have more trouble to cope with that than the person concerned. They are often more overchallenged." Explained Simmons calmly, while his thumb stroked over Grifs shoulder. It's not quite what Wash meant. But he keeps forgetting how little he knows and how little they know.

He had been classified article 12, unfit for duty after the incident with Epsilon who went crazy while implanted in his head. But they didn't actually know what this meant. Either way, the Freelancer decides to let this go. "I guess that's understandably." He sighed, feeling a little uneasy. He seems to do more damage than good. Taking a closer look at Grif he also saw that the guy seemed more exhausted again. So Wash decided it would be better to go now.

So Wash got up, stretching his limbs. He groaned mentally, already feeling the familiar soreness from sparing with Carolina. "I guess I'll be going now. You look like you could use a rest." He said before picking up is helmet and returning the chair to the desk.

"If you're feeling good enough in the next days, we'll look together if you can take over some duties. Don't worry, you still can say if you feel like having too much." Explained before leaving the two with a short good-bye. It wasn't like they could much do besides that. Well, not if they didn't want Grif to get worse.