Above Ground

by Yin

AU. Dexter Grif really only ever wanted to keep himself and his sister out of trouble, and maybe get a few naps in while he was at it. But chance encounters end up putting him in the thick of a battle to save his home. ...Figures. {Grimmons, other pairings mentioned in fic.}

25. Chapter 25

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue or any of the show's characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.

Chapter Twenty-Five:

The snow crunched loudly underfoot. That sound, combined with the visual white harshness of the expanse they found themselves on currently, helped register the first cognitive thought that lodged itself in Dexter Grif's mind upon their arrival there.

This Sidewinder place is fucking cold.

The thought had refused to vacate the Slums dweller's brain. He could easily imagine the chill that no doubt permeated the area even through the impressive climate controls of his armor, something that he was quite thankful for currently.

Sidewinder was both impressive and terrifying all at once. Impressive because the weather and temperatures that kept the mountain range way past just simply "chilly" were such a completely foreign concept to someone who had lived underground for practically their entire life, and terrifying for the same reason too.

Grif breathed in and out, trying to calm his nerves. Instead, he had to bite down on a hiss of pain from breathing in too deeply with his still very much recuperating body.

The flap of the tent that had been set up as a temporary reprieve from the cold while everyone was in the final stages of prepping was pushed to the side behind him. The orange-armored fighter was surprised when he turned around to see Kai standing there awkwardly.

"Hey, Kai."

The dark-haired man somehow managed to not grimace in pain. Or, at the very least, he had thought that maybe, just maybe he had kept it from carrying in his voice. They were wearing helmets, after all.

The siblings hadn't really spoken at all since Grif and Simmons had managed to hobble their way to the Resistance's secret hideout.

Of course, there had been reunions with his friends and comrades in the Resistance happy to see him back.

The memory of getting to see Junior again safe and sound, combined with having Tucker call him a fat-ass for making everyone worry and informing everyone of how Grif would definitely be making it up to all of them later with free booze replayed in his head.

Matthews and Donut had both being crying messes, while Lopez muttered something he was pretty sure was sarcastic in Spanish in the background. Hard to tell, really. Most things the robot said sounded pretty sarcastic though, so it seemed like a pretty good guess.

Bitters remarked that he guessed he was thankful to see Grif back, just like Matthews obviously was. Of course, the lieutenant had to ruin the moment by remarking that there wouldn't even be the need for a reunion if a captain of all people hadn't done something incredibly stupid in the first place. That of course led to the other newer recruits, and Caboose, all wanting Grif to know their part in the very moronic rescue plan they had all concocted and taken part in on his behalf.

Then Kimball, along with C.T. and the other former Freelancers, stated that it was good to see him again. Though Grif suspected with Tex her happiness regarding his return was more because he always still jumped whenever she suddenly appeared nearby, as that still seemed to amuse her to no end.

Even Sarge had noted that not having the Grif around had been somewhat demotivating because the older soldier had to focus all of his pent-up aggression on non-present enemies. So, he ultimately supposed that the dirtbag was good-fer-something after all. Donut asked if he was tearing up at around that point, and Sarge had to excuse himself to shoot something else that was orange in order compensate for his sudden rush of feelings.

But, the reunion with his sister had been oddly quiet then. Especially for the two of them.

Kai had simply walked up to her older brother and called him an idiot. Then, she hugged him before doing the same to a beyond shocked and flustered Simmons, walking away with Volleyball tagging along close by her side a second later without saying anything more to Grif.

Even Tucker had been shocked by the lack of an explosive outburst, given his past experiences with the Grif siblings, sharing the orange-armored soldier's look of bewildered shock at the time. In a quieter moment, Tucker later recounted to his childhood friend how he had very nearly feared for his life when Kai had corned him following their rescue plan.

Things had become a whirlwind of activity shortly after that, and there was no time for Grif or any of the others to really process anything before they found themselves at Sidewinder.

He hadn't seen much of Kai at all up until now, and he'd been under the impression that the girl had been trying to avoid him.

Even with his injuries, he had been given a ton of tasks to do that he had begrudgingly taken on. He was still Dexter Grif after all, no matter what was going on around them that he knew he had to be more proactive about. So, he hadn't really had too much time to seek anyone out.

Especially since, whenever he had been given a rare moment to himself, he'd been given very strict orders to stay at Doctor Grey's makeshift clinic. The Slums dweller knew better than to piss her, Kimball, Simmons, Kai, Tucker, or any of his other concerned teammates and comrades (even Tex of all people!) off by ignoring that type of command.

While he had pretty much seen everyone in that short amount of time, even managed to catch a few z's with Junior which reminded Grif yet again that it was great seeing the kid again, his own sister hadn't been one of them despite her apparent added vocal insistence that he obey doctor's orders.

Even on the occasions when he knew she was probably supposed to seek him out for a given assignment or task, Kai somehow always managed to find a way to pass it off to one of the other lieutenants or Palomo instead. All of them seemed to know she was doing it too.

Palomo basically kept saying she had a "bathroom thing," probably under the assumption that Grif wouldn't ask more in that case. Which, in fairness, he was right about. Grif didn't ask for any more details, if only because the tanned man was afraid of finding out just how much elaboration the private might go into in his attempt to make his obvious lie all the more plausible.

Bitters would simply say in his usual maverick way that, if the captain had a question about what Kai was up to, then he needed to take it up with her and not him. The kid had been pissed when they had first met up again, despite how he had tried playing it off as indifference. But, the lieutenant seemed more like his usual agitated-at-everything self once he had realized Grif probably wasn't going to be keeling over anytime soon. Plus, he had said his piece to the older soldier before when thanking him with Matthews at his side.

Matthews had blubbered to the point where Grif realized there wasn't even a point in attempting to ask him anything about why he was doing Kai's tasks for her, and Andersmith just got uncomfortable and said it wasn't really his place to say.

Jensen simply blurted out that Kai was just processing things in her own way because what had happened had been really difficult for her, a sentiment that Volleyball more calmly echoed. Both girls were apologetic to him, but stated that they couldn't say more than that.

He had tried not dwelling on it too much, figuring that maybe his sister's girlfriend's advice to just give Kai some space was right in this bizarre incidence. Grif tried keeping his concerns to himself by not even telling Simmons or Tucker about what was going on, though he could tell both of them knew it due to the comforting pats or looks they would often send his way.

He had to admit, his younger sister's timing always was a bit suspect. Picking just before a major offensive to get things out in the open was rather like her.

"Hey." She fidgeted slightly on the balls of her feet like she used to do when they were kids and she had been afraid to bring something up, like what had really happened with their mom. She stopped doing that entirely when she came up with the circus story later to tell people.

Kai had her dark-haired head tilted slightly to the side, both regarding him and apparently debating something to herself at the same time.

With a quick motion, she unsealed her helmet and tucked it under one arm. Her face instantly took on a slightly reddish hue due to the cold.

Grif started, "Kai, what the fuck? Put that back on! It's fucking freezing out here!"

"Not inside the tent, dumbass!" She shot back quickly, reminding him of her earlier defiant self while glaring slightly, "If we're going to have this talk, I want to have it face-to-face."

Grif sighed, not really thrilled at the notion of exposing himself to cold-as-fuck temperatures but figuring it was better to humor his sister this time instead of getting into an argument.

He unsealed his helmet as well, wincing at the blast of cold air that hit his face as he did so. But, Kai was right. The insulation of the tent definitely made things more tolerable than if they had been standing directly out in the cold.

"So, why exactly are we doing this face-to-face?" The Slums dweller frowned, waiting for her to respond, "Kai, if you're going to punch me for making you worry or some shit, just try not to hit a cut."

She was scrutinizing his face closely, and from the look in her brown eyes just then Grif was fairly certain she was debating doing just that.

His suspicion was confirmed a second later when she scoffed, "There aren't a lot of places I can hit then."

It was a sort-of joke, but not one all at the same time.

Grif decided just to treat it as one outright since they couldn't really even get into the other side with how things were now and how heavy that would get. Their family wasn't the best when it came to discussing "feelings" of any sort too deeply, after all.

"Definitely not." He agreed, smiling self-deprecatingly.

The chill wasn't really helping his wounds any if the stinging that was starting up on his face was any indication, but he did his best to ignore it.

She scrunched her face even more, "You're a fucking moron. You know that?"

"I am pretty sure it takes one to know one, Kai." Grif remarked back with his pseudo-sage voice, nonplussed at the insult.

They were both staring at the other in silence for a long moment, the looks flitting across their features a combination of relief and anger that was practically mirrored in the other's expression.

"You had me fucking worried, Dex." Kai let out first with a shaky breath, looking as if she was fighting back tears while at the same time scolding him, "Who told you to always play the fucking hero?"

"I try not to, in most cases. You know that." He shrugged, "Guess I wanted to just try something different for once."

The older brother recalled talking to some of the others before about why Kai had decided to join the Resistance in the first place, specifically remembering a discussion once with Simmons' in which the Above Grounder stated that, to Kai at least, Grif probably was something of a hero figure in a lot of ways given that he had raised her when their parents bailed and everything. He knew it was probably at least partially true even if Grif sure as fuck didn't feel that way about himself, and he wasn't sure if he liked that she potentially viewed him that way if it meant she was going to put herself in harm's way just to follow in his less-than-ideal footsteps.

Kai looked as if she wanted to argue with his comment, so the Resistance fighter cut her off because that would probably definitely put them in the way-too-deep-and-probably-time-consuming-if-we-wanted-to-have-a-debate-on-it side of the conversation spectrum.

"It kind of sucked, honestly." Grif joked instead.

She sniffled, glancing at his visible injuries once more, "Looks like it." Kai looked hesitant before adding, "Do…do they hurt?"

"Not as much as they used to." He was feeling a bit awkward with this whole topic himself, and felt he might as well get another awkward moment out of the way too while rubbing the back of his head in an oddly hesitant and out-of-character fashion, "Sorry. For the worry."

"All the talk on how I worried you by joining the party and you pull that shit?" She was smiling slightly, albeit the expression was watery, "You better be sorry! Jackass."

"Oh, you're one to talk!" He shot back, remembering his own source of frustration with the girl he'd learned about recently, "What the fuck were you thinking, helping to steal an air transport and crash it into a fucking base?"

"I wanted to help you and Junior, dumbass!" Kai got into her usual argumentative self at the provocation just then.

It was better to see than her being hesitant and unsure. Grif was glad, even if he still had his own fair share of venting to do as her older sibling.

"Like it would have really helped me hearing that you had gotten yourself killed or something later on." He shot back at her sarcastically.

"Well, it would have been the same for me!" Kai was quick with her counter.

Just like that, the odd sense of understanding that always seemed to shove its way into their more heated arguments eventually made its presence known.

The two of them were both upset at the idea that they had nearly lost the other one. Venting about it in the aftermath was just their way of coping with shit, after all. Always had been.

Discussing feelings had always been rather interesting in the Grif household. Tucker preferred to call their way of doing so "completely batshit nuts", but he really wasn't one to talk.

"So, you're going along with this mission still too then?" Grif asked tiredly, shoulders slumping in defeat and giving in to the inevitability of it all once more.

Both of them were stubborn as fuck too. A Grif sibling fight could last weeks if they both wanted to continue it, but neither of them wanted to do so with this one. He knew that had been the main reason why Kai had avoided coming to him before, and why she had decided to do so now. It was the best way to ensure that they got what they needed to say out in the open, as they didn't really have the time to let it stew.

What, with this being the last hour or so before a major offensive when who knows what could happen and all. They were pretty much at the point of no going back.

"I'm fucking here, aren't I?" His little sister stood proudly before shooting him a knowing look, "Besides, you're here too, aren't you? You haven't even recovered!"

Kai had him there.

Truthfully, Grif wasn't even sure how much help he would even be in a fight given how bad his injuries still were. But, he could still point a gun and shoot as long as he didn't end up passing out or something. Hopefully that meant he could still do something to help at least.

"The lieutenants are going to be providing cover for the Blue and Red Teams, right?" He asked.

The orange-armored soldier knew that the main attack forces were going to be split into groups in order to cover more ground and hopefully help ensure success in finding the relic.

Kimball and the Freelancers, save Washington who had inexplicably volunteered for the Blue and Red Team assignment and C.T. who was already a member of Blue Team, would be leading a squadron in a direct assault on the facility in an effort to draw attention away from side-attacks by the other fighters.

During that direct assault, the Red Team would be attacking from one side and the Blue Team would attack from the other.

The lieutenants and Palomo would be split amongst the two colored units much as they had been during the initial foray into Above Ground: Kai, Palomo, and Andersmith would be with the Blue Team while Bitters, Matthews, Volleyball, and Jensen would be with Red Team.

Only this time, they also had the members of Simmons' team to throw into the mix as well, along with the other Above Ground defectors.

Sheila would be on Blue Team, if only because Sarge was convinced that having her present with Lopez was an "ill-advised distraction that they could not tactically afford". Sheila had been amused by the description, Lopez less so. Even without knowing what his electronic Spanish was saying, the robot sounded pretty angry. From a tactical stance it was one of the few times a Sarge decision made sense even if the reasoning did not, since it actually helped balance the playing field by having humanoid robots on both teams.

Doc would be accompanying Red Team in case medical emergencies cropped up despite his less-than-amazing skill record when treating injuries. The hypocrisy in why he could be on Donut's team, which boiled down to "because he technically wasn't a combatant" apparently did little to improve Lopez's mood regarding his separation from Sheila.

Though the robot did seem to be mollified when Sarge said he could modify the two to be able to electronically communicate with one another to coordinate potential joint offensives in case things happened during the attack and other lines of communication were cut. Not that Grif thought it would help too much on the Red Team side since no one really understood what Lopez was saying, but he supposed at least it was good that Lopez and Sheila wouldn't be completely cut off from one another.

Doctor Grey would be going with Blue Team for similar reasoning to Doc's Red Team assignment. Only they probably lucked out more in that department since she was actually a very good doctor despite her eccentricities.

Four Seven Niner, naturally, had agreed to tag along but only for piloting purposes. She would stay with the transport just in case an emergency occurred. They'd been forced to come here in groups due to limited space, but it had still been better than the alternative of trekking to Sidewinder on foot.

Doyle, who had somehow become appointed Junior's babysitter in the midst of all of this, would also be staying on the transport. He didn't appear to be much of a fighter, but he could help with both sensors and communications on the transport. Hopefully, such help from the Above Grounder would enable the transport to hold its position should something happen.

Junior would be with him as a "helper," though Grif suspected he would actually be more the "protector" of the transport if in fact something did happen. The tiny half-alien could fight with the best of them.

Those three would all be on the transport along with Grif, unfortunately. Which was the part of the plan that sucked, even though he had kind of seen it coming. Given his condition, the Slums dweller had assumed that his actual assistance in the fighting would be minimal despite the fact that he had made it to the hideout earlier with Simmons.

But, still, it was rather punch-to-the-balls level of suck when all of his comrades, friends, and his little sister would be out on the frontlines instead either winning or getting killed first. He wanted to be there too, as crazily dumb and as suicidal a notion as that was.

Fuck it! Not only were Kai, Tucker, and the others going to be out there, but was Simmons too seeing as how the cyborg had volunteered to go with Red Team in Grif's place.

The two hadn't even talked about the maroon-armored soldier's decision yet, and Grif still wasn't sure how he felt about it to begin with.

Kai nodded in response to his question, and he figured it was best to focus on continuing this current conversation than worry about potential other ones that may or may not even happen.

"Shouldn't you be, I don't know, saying something to Volleyball then?" Grif sighed, feeling odd bringing up this topic at all with his sister yet thankful beyond belief that this time it wasn't something along the lines of "the talk" again or how he shouldn't have to explain why it wasn't the best idea for her to go to orgies, "You know, before…?"

Before the mission commenced. Before they might not have a "next time" to say things in.

"Oh." Realization dawned in Kai's eyes, followed quickly by mirth, "We already did."

"G—good." He breathed out slightly, relieved, "That's good, Kai."

"Three times." She grinned and lifted up three fingers for added emphasis.

"Yeah, yeah…" his mind processed what she was really saying just then, "Wait, wait?"

"That one time when the hot pilot lady caught us in her chair and said she'd spray us next time doesn't count though." Her grin widened, "Even if it was hot."

"Goddamn it, Kai!" Grif groaned, knowing that now there was no doubt he'd get to hear all about that from Four Seven Niner when the mission was well underway.

She stuck her tongue out at him playfully, "You asked, Dex."

He wanted to clasp his hand over his eyes to further illustrate his frustration, but was afraid that they would either freeze that way, or that he would touch one of his injuries and set off a wave of pain, "Not about that."

"Aw, you suck!" Kai said it with a pouting, teasing look before an oddly thankful and contemplative one settled over her features, "But, we did talk during those times too. Lots." She nodded her head to reassure her sibling that she understood what he had really been asking her, "About everything."

Sometimes, it amazed him how mature Kai could be under it all. He nodded and smiled back at her. He really hoped nothing would happen to her or her girlfriend during the mission, but he didn't want her to have any regrets either just in case.

Right now, that was about all he could do to look out for her. The orange-armored fighter tried not dwelling on how much that really sucked in general, about how powerless all of them were at this point to do anything but try to keep a power-hungry asshole and his murderous mercenaries from wiping out their homes.

"Speaking of that!" The thoughtful look was back on her tanned face now, though it was definitely directed outwards towards him this time around, "Have you talked to Simmons yet?"

The frown that crossed his features answered that question well enough for the younger Grif sibling.

Kai nodded almost sagely, as if she had expected that response from her brother (and she probably had, the little brat!), taking up her own impression of his fake wisdom voice just then, "Might want to get on that then."

He sighed, putting on his helmet once more, "I know."

The Slums dweller was fairly certain even with his back to her as he exited the tent just then that she was grinning once more, "If you still need pointers for doing more than just talking, then feel free to ask me, Dex!"

"Goddamn it, Kai!"

Grif's face was red, and not just from the cold. Leave it to his little sister to always end awkward heart-to-hearts on extremely memorable notes.

Truthfully, he wasn't any less scared shitless or upset about what could potentially happen on this mission after talking with Kai. Still, Grif couldn't help but smile slightly all the same, even with his little sister's rather embarrassing closing remark.

If anything, it served as a reminder of how some things never seemed to change.

---

There were so many ways in which things could go horribly, horribly wrong in the next hour or so.

Literally hundreds, if the teal-armored Resistance fighter stopped to really dwell on it. Seriously. The actual number of horrific possibilities would probably blow someone's mind.

The most obvious of which being that they were found out before they had gotten to and disabled the stupid alien relic that was the cause of all their current major concerns. The aftermath of that outcome naturally being that they, along with pretty much everyone else, would wind up dead in rather brutal fashions.

Following that unpleasant scenario, the list went on and on with every type of worst case possibility he could think of.

Truthfully? Lavernius Tucker really didn't want to dwell on that shit right now.

No, instead there were other things he sure as fuck wanted to be doing more. Such as spending as much time with Junior as was humanly possible before the Resistance and their allies embarked on this crazy ass mission.

During a last minute checkup with Doctor Grey, the Blue Team member mentally ran through his last minute list of things he still needed to do before the mission officially commenced.

Truth be told, his leg was pretty much fine now, so the constant exams were a little annoying. But, fuck if he was going to say that in front of the nice-but-unhinged lady with the scalpel. Not with the way-too-large maniacal smile the dark-haired woman had with the prospect of using it!

Beyond freezing his balls off, which was pretty much going to top the list for as long as they were here because fuck was Sidewinder cold, there was just running checks on equipment and seeing what his teammates were up to.

Tucker knew that there was no need to worry any about the Red Team side of the spectrum as Sarge was pretty much making sure that they were running like a well-oiled machine. Their lieutenants seemed to be working well with encouragement from both Donut and Doc.

Even socially awkward Simmons had seemed to jump into his new Red Team role for this mission with gusto, working quite readily alongside both the more senior members of the team and the lieutenants. Of course, Tucker suspected the Above Grounder's dedication to duty could partially be a way for the cyborg to avoid having any sort of "talk" with his fat husband before the mission. The teal-armored soldier wasn't quite sure Simmons' volunteering for the mission had been something he had actually checked by Grif first.

However, the Slums dweller did see Lopez nearly blow a fuse or gasket whenever Jensen so much as looked at one of the smaller ground transports they had acquired recently and none of her other teammates were there to pull the lieutenant away.

In Lopez's defense, the girl was a horrible driver and somehow had run into the robot three times when they were all still underground. Even though those accidents had been with her going as slow as molasses, the robot's wariness was understandable.

As for the transports themselves, Tex had said it was best not to ask where or how exactly they had been acquired. Taking her thinly veiled warning at face value, Tucker figured it was smart to not ask any questions the former Freelancer clearly wasn't in the mood to answer. Not that she was ever in a mood to answer any questions. Probably best to just avoid asking the Above Grounder anything, truthfully.

Speaking of the redhead, he didn't even have to check in on Tex to know that Kimball's attack squad were working equally as hard. Fuck, Tucker suspected the only reason that they were still here and not already moving in to kill some asshole mercenaries yet was because they had to wait for present company to catch up to their level of readiness.

That reality seemed to be literally any second away from happening now.

So, naturally, that had left Tucker to check up on his own team. The results of which had been just as he had expected given that it wasn't as if they had been sitting around twiddling their thumbs just because he had been stuck getting his leg examined by Doctor Grey.

No, of course not. Because they were all fucking awesome.

Caboose, Andersmith, and Palomo had helped redistribute ammo as Freckles' booming voice scared a few unsuspecting people who hadn't yet caught on about there being a talking gun present. During that distribution process, C.T. had been efficiently running equipment checks with Sheila's help.

Washington had gone on another perimeter check with Kimball and North before Tucker had gone to see Doctor Grey, so the Resistance fighter didn't know where he was currently. But, he suspected that wherever the blonde was or whatever he was doing it probably had something to do with getting all of them even more combat-ready before shit went down.

Honestly, that was only to be expected considering how paranoid the guy could be. Granted, in this case in particular, the Freelancer's caution was probably justified. As if Tucker would ever admit it though.

There was literally nothing for Tucker to do given that, and that realization must have shown on his face since C.T. had smiled slightly and suggested that now might be a good time to have a talk with Junior if he wanted.

Which had led to Tucker going up the ramp of the air transport, since Junior had decided to set-up "camp" at the spot where his part of the mission would be.

It was an actual camp too. The Blue Team member was still scratching his head at trying to figure out how his friends had found spare blankets.

Or, just how it was that Freckles could instruct Caboose on how to make a fort of any kind that he then relayed back to his son when in neither metal body the Virtual Intelligence had been housed in had there been actual arms or hands.

He was surprised to see Four Seven Niner moving past him with what looked like a bucket of soapy water, heading towards the cockpit.

"Spilled something?" Tucker asked conversationally, though he couldn't picture the woman bringing any kind of liquid near the controls of her transport. If someone else had, he imagined they would have all heard their faraway cries as they were being murdered by the pilot in question.

"Nope." That was about as much information as he was probably going to get on the subject, he knew.

Especially since, seconds later, she motioned towards the makeshift fort, "Your kid is in there with his two babysitters if you're looking for him."

"Thanks."

The tan woman nodded before quickly adding, "Probably should help him take all of that down before things heat up. Not the best place to have a blanket fort. Besides, I'm pretty sure your big friend in orange would just sleep in it."

"Don't I know it." Tucker grinned and, since he knew that the pilot had probably been extra-patient with the whole fort thing considering how protective she was about her work-space, quickly reassured her, "I'll get it cleaned up. No worries."

"Good." With a curt nod, the Above Grounder disappeared to the front of the space.

As soon as she had done so, Doyle's head popped up from the folds of the blankets in the center of the transport, quickly followed by Junior's.

"Ah, I thought I heard you, Tucker!" The personal assistant said cheerfully enough in greeting, "I imagine things are going well with the preparations outside, then?"

"As well as can be expected." He shrugged, "We're pretty much ready, by this point."

"I assumed as much." A frown had found its way across the older man's features, and Tucker knew that he was probably trying to come to terms in his own way with what was about to happen now that it wasn't very far off.

"Blarg!" Junior was grinning up at him in his own greeting, apparently oblivious to what was being said.

Although it was more like his son was just pretending to be oblivious. Tucker had learned early on that the boy was quite perceptive and knew what was going on around him during "adult" talk. Junior just pretended otherwise more often than not due to not wanting to worry anyone, or have them thinking they had to tone conversations down in his presence

"Hey, kiddo!" Tucker smiled back.

Doyle cleared his throat, standing up and exiting the campsite, "I'll let you two talk then." He informed them, before giving a slight nod to the fort he had just left behind, "The other fellow is still asleep."

Ah, well, that was pretty fitting for a lazy-ass like Grif. Even more so now that he was as badly injured as he was.

Truthfully, Tucker had thought his childhood friend was nuts for still trying to participate in the assault even in this limited guard monitor duty. But, it wasn't as if he couldn't understand the reasoning as to why the older Grif sibling had wanted to do so all the same.

"Thanks." Tucker paused, thinking of something else just then at the sight he had just witnessed, "Also, thanks for looking out for him too."

"It's been no trouble at all. Really." Doyle smiled self-deprecatingly, "The pilot already told me nervous hovering wouldn't…err…fly, so to speak, around here at the moment. It gave me something else to occupy my thoughts with." He regarded Junior fondly, "He's a good sport to put up with me for so long."

"Honk!" Junior nodded his head, soaking up the praise. He certainly was rather similar to his dad in that regard.

"Indeed." Doyle remarked back before looking questioningly over at Tucker once more, "I take it Miss Kimball and Sarge are still outside somewhere?"

"Last time I had seen them." Tucker informed him, "If you go outside you should be able to hear Sarge well enough, at least."

"Always was easy to find that fellow in a crowd." Doyle joked, giving a curt nod to both father and son before excusing himself from their presence entirely.

Kimball, Doyle, and Sarge had been talking quite a bit recently about a lot of political stuff that Tucker didn't even really care enough about currently to pay much attention to. He knew it had something to do about a potential "afterwards" for the people in the Slums and the residents of the city literally overhead of the mining colony, but to him those were moot points in the face of what was happening now.

After all, they wouldn't have any future if this didn't pan out.

"Blarg?"

Junior had emerged from his tent and walked over to his father, a questioning look in his eyes at the contemplative demeanor the man was currently displaying.

Tucker shook it off quickly and stared down at his child, ignoring the stab of guilt that had worked its way into his heart as he did so.

The Resistance fighter tried. He honestly fucking did. But, he always worried.

Junior could have probably done a lot better with anyone else other than him as a father. He'd inadvertently put his son through so much shit.

First with staying on as part of the Resistance following his birth even if, technically speaking, Junior wouldn't have existed if it wasn't for Tucker having been a member of it to begin with. Then with Junior getting taken and experimented on, and now bringing him along on their last ditch effort to save anything.

Tucker had debated that last one for a long while as, even with everyone he was close to going to Sidewinder, he could have had Junior stay at the hideout instead.

But, if they failed? Then, everyone he trusted with his son would be gone.

The odds were way too high that Junior would be found and killed in the final "sweeping" of Resistance members that would be sure to follow such an outcome. Or, the half-alien would just get caught and held for experimentation again.

It was a no-win situation. Junior's insistence on not being left behind and his wanting to help hadn't made things any easier. The boy had made it quite apparent he would not tolerate Tucker leaving him too far behind given their forced separation before.

The temper tantrum that had occurred when Tucker had even attempted trying to reason with his son had been one for the record books, complete with throwing heavy objects around with an ease that made even Tex whistle in appreciation.

This "compromise" between the two extremes of either bringing along or leaving him behind that Doyle and Sarge, of all people, had come up with was the one thing that both parent and child had finally, albeit reluctantly, agreed on.

Even still, Junior wasn't too happy at being relegated to the sidelines and him being close to any fighting still sucked major ass in Tucker's mind.

It was what it was though, he supposed.

Tucker sighed and willed his eyes not to water slightly as he pulled the child into a tight hug.

"You know I love you, right, Junior?" He asked him softly, "That will never change. No matter what."

"Blarg!" Junior's affirmation was quick and to the point as he returned the gesture.

They pulled away quickly, Tucker still feeling hesitant to do so despite getting the emotional shit out of the way.

Yeah, he knew he was just as bad as the Grif siblings when it came to that sort of thing even if he would make fun of Grif especially for it.

Junior was already pulling him towards the tent flap to show off his handiwork. The teal-armored soldier hadn't really had the chance to see it up close before, since Caboose had wanted it to be a "surprise" when he and Freckles were helping Junior set it up.

Tucker frowned, "I'm not sure, Junior. I mean, it is bitching awesome, but I've seen Grif sleeping too many times to count so—"

"Good thing he isn't here then." Washington's voice cut in curtly, causing Tucker to pause just to make sure he was processing what he had heard correctly.

Sure enough, Mister Badass Freelancer Agent Extraordinaire was sleepily rubbing his gray eyes from amidst his son's blanket fort.

In hindsight, even though he had known Grif was going to be here when the mission was underway, not to mention what a lazy ass his friend could be so that he'd probably jump at the chance for a nap in a makeshift tent of comfy blankets, maybe he shouldn't have just assumed he was who Doyle had meant earlier. But, Tucker probably would have never guessed Washington as an alternative in a million years.

"No. Fucking. Way."

Washington ignored the disbelief on Tucker's face as he moved over to let the two have more room inside, apparently wanting to humor the child since it was apparent that Junior was pretty eager to show his work off.

"It's a good design." The blonde noted thoughtfully instead, smiling at the pleased "Honk!" that followed this remark from the half-alien.

"So, you're an expert on blanket forts too?" Tucker couldn't help but tease a bit at this apparent new development, as that certainly wasn't something most special agents would be wanting to make public knowledge.

"Er…" Washington was blushing in embarrassment, shoulders shrinking in on themselves sheepishly, "I may have actually made one in a transport myself. Once. Just to see if I could."

That explained Four Seven Niner's odd patience for this type of antic then.

Tucker grinned at the notion. The idea of a dorkier Washington was something he always enjoyed hearing about for some reason.

"Stop that." Washington didn't seem as thrilled with having just supplied the teal-wearing fighter with that type of information.

"I'm not making fun, dude. Honest!" The Slums dweller shrugged, trying with marginal success to avoid erupting into a chuckling fit and piss the blonde off further since Tucker apparently had more control than most people gave him credit for because fuck if that wasn't hard to do, "It's nice learning that kind of thing about you."

"Really?" Washington didn't seem too convinced of Tucker's sincerity as his face turned rather red and there was a hitch in his voice that Tucker couldn't quite place. Rather suddenly, the Above Grounder seemed more awake too.

He nodded, "Yeah. It's a good thing, Wash." Tucker informed him, even using the nickname he hadn't really noticed he'd begun using a lot more frequently for the Freelancer, "Means you're human after all, and all that shit."

"Tucker—"

"Besides," and Tucker cut him off because something in Washington's expression just then had caused his face to start heating up and now was really not a good time for that, "It's always great when someone can appreciate how awesome Junior is at making things!"

"Blarg!" Junior beamed, though he was sure to add in a quick, "Honk, blarg!"

"Right." Tucker nodded in response to Junior's insistence that it hadn't been just him who had built said Fort of Awesome, "Caboose and Freckles helped too."

"Honk!"

Junior seemed appeased at his friends getting their due credit. So, Tucker looked at Washington who had been quiet during their exchange, noticing the fond smile that had appeared on the Above Grounder's face while he had been watching the two of them, "Let me guess. They kicked you out of preparing anymore?"

The blonde winced in embarrassment, which pretty much confirmed Tucker's theory about why the Freelancer was here currently, "It was mostly just suggestions that I rest for a bit." Washington informed him, adding with a slight shiver, "But, Tex threatened to beat me to death if I didn't, and Connie threatened to throw knives if she caught me so much as looking at another supply list."

Washington had been pretty much going nonstop since they had arrived at base, so it was no wonder that the others had put their feet down finally on the grounds of health concerns.

The Slums dweller would have nearly been convinced the blonde was some kind of robot at this point if it weren't for the fact that Tucker had seen the dark circles under the other's eyes whenever he wasn't wearing a helmet. They had only gotten worse over time.

Tucker had tried to get the Above Grounder to rest earlier himself, but he could never get the older male to listen. Probably because the Resistance fighter couldn't back up his sound reasoning as to why taking a break was a good idea with the threat of a monumental beat-down to further hit home his point.

Given that, it made sense as to why Washington had wandered to the transport then, and why he had apparently pretty much passed out there too while "taking it easy" with Doyle and Junior. Tucker suspected he had been running on nearly empty for quite some time, only hanging on because the giant stick in the Freelancer's ass tended to make him be both impressively and infuriatingly stubborn at the same time.

It was a shame that the blonde was awake, as somewhere in the back of Tucker's mind a small voice he was trying to quiet down was still saying what a surprisingly entrancing sight a sleepy Washington had been. Now that the older man was awake though, he seemed ready to jump into something again. His gaze was already looking around the transport anxiously for some task to catch his eye.

Which would probably start the whole process over again, and the thought of the Freelancer collapsing in a firefight wasn't one that Tucker was at all keen on.

So, Tucker did what he did best and improvised.

"Since Junior showed me his kickass fort, we should probably put it away before Four Seven Niner comes back and sets it on fire." He joked.

"She actually did that. Once." Washington muttered rather darkly under his breath, a haunted look crossing over his features at whatever he was recollecting.

Mystery as to what had been the ultimate fate of Agent Washington's "test fort" was solved. Even without every detail that story just kept getting better and better!

"Oh, poor baby!" Tucker laughed, dodging the rolled up blanket that Washington hurled his way while the older man's face now sported its own awkward grin.

The teal-armored soldier tried not thinking about how oddly enjoyable this interaction was, even with the threat of potential death still looming over them.

Washington was a lot more multi-faceted than he had thought.

"So, anyways, what to help us?" Tucker threw the blanket back, while Junior watched the exchange between the two adults with obvious amusement plastered on his face, "Since you're the fort expert and all."

It was work still, but light work that wasn't centered on the doom and gloom they were currently facing. Keeping Washington from that for just a bit longer would probably be helpful. Who knew how much rest the Freelancer had actually gotten in what was probably way too short a break for what he really needed?

Whether or not Washington had figured out Tucker's goal with the suggestion, he couldn't say. But, the other man gave him an unreadable look just then before slumping his shoulders and sighing.

"You just want me to do all the work so you and Junior can goof off together a little bit longer, right?" The blonde asked, although he didn't seem annoyed or exasperated at the notion, only understanding as to why that might be.

Father and son exchanged a look together and grinned conspiratorially. Yeah, Junior was fucking awesome at reading between the lines!

Then Tucker shook his head in response to the Freelancer's question.

"Nah, we'll help." The Resistance fighter informed him, "But, it might take twice as long because we're pretty horrible folders."

Not really, but Washington didn't need to know that. Not like being decent at folding articles of clothing or bedding was a skill you'd really brag about besides.

It was all part of the plan.

There was a knowing, somewhat appreciative glint in Washington's eyes and Tucker was nearly convinced he was about to call them out on their bullshit then and there.

Instead, he nodded, "Fine." He agreed, before adding after a thoughtful pause, "Afterwards though, we'll have Doctor Grey check your leg again too. Just to be safe."

That earned a groan from the dark skinned man, "Fine."

Visiting the crazy doctor again was not high on Tucker's list of things that he wanted to do, especially since he had just gone to see her for the very leg injury in question about two hours ago! But, it would still serve as something of a distraction from the really heavy finishing preparations for Washington, so he supposed he could suffer through it again if he had to.

"Good."

There was an awkward pause as Washington started folding the blanket they'd thrown before, with Junior and Tucker handling one of the larger ones that had served as a wall for the fort.

He glanced over at Tucker a second later, red spotting his face, "Hey, Tucker?"

"Yeah?" Tucker looked over from a now blanket-swaddled Junior. This might take even longer than he'd thought initially thanks to Junior's awesome play-acting. They were both that good!

"Never mind." Washington seemed hesitant about saying whatever it was he had been about to say, instead settling on, "Thanks. For this."

The blonde motioned to the blanket he had just perfectly folded up, face still slightly red but the look in his eyes more amused and touched than anything.

So, the Freelancer had totally fucking known his strategy from the beginning too. Fucking prick! Tucker almost felt a little cheated knowing that.

Well, at least Washington wasn't arguing with it or mad. He supposed that counted as a little victory then.

Tucker grinned, "You're welcome. Though you have got to tell me the full fort story at some point, dude."

"…Maybe later."

Tucker tried not to dwell on how Washington had to pause to avoid saying "if" just then, how he had seemed reluctant to say anything confirming in general. Or how the look that crossed the blonde's face seemed way too fucking sad for what should be a fun future event.

Right now, the teal-armored soldier just wanted to focus on how oddly pleasant being here with Junior and Washington was.

"It's a promise then."

There was a lot that wasn't said between the two adults, and whether Junior caught on or not he wasn't sure. The Slums dweller suspected his son was probably more aware of whatever it was between them than even they were, but Junior seemed happy too. That part in particular he wanted to burn into his memory right now.

Tucker wondered, given the odd fleeting smile on Washington's face when he regarded them again, if he wasn't thinking the same thing too. Surprisingly, that idea was a really pleasant one that the Resistance fighter found he also wanted to recall later on.

---

Richard "Dick" Simmons wasn't really sure how to process what had been going on recently. In a lot of ways, it was very much a blur of hectic activity.

It had been, in fact, ever since the huge blowout with Grif where he had ended up probably revealing way more than he'd ever intended about his feelings.

Actually, the redhead realized that it might be for the best that he hadn't had an actual chance yet to process things or have a moment to himself. Because Simmons knew that the very second when he'd be able to think back on shit, he'd both dwell and overanalyze it as was his wont. That would more than likely be followed by a panic attack, and then the knowledge that he'd never be able to face his friend again.

He could still recall the impromptu nap they'd had together, which had been so nice and comfy and totally out of the cyborg's comfort zone but so in Grif's that fuck it! Simmons had felt more at ease then than he would probably ever feel comfortable admitting.

Following that, the redhead had gone about making arrangements to get to the location of the Resistance members currently stationed on the planet's surface.

Carolina and Church had been more than eager to help, not even batting an eye at the sudden change in demeanor from Simmons' earlier reluctance. Well, Church had muttered something along the lines of "Guess Chubby is good for something after all beyond being lazy."

The two leaders' helpful actions weren't too surprising given how readily they had wanted the last member of their team out of the city proper.

Simmons hadn't seen either of them since though, so who knew what the fuck they were doing currently? Sheila and Doc were in the dark on that as well.

The three of them had tried asking Washington what Carolina and Church were doing in the rare instances when the blonde wasn't working himself into a coma since it seemed as if the Freelancer might have known what their two teammates were up to. But, he seemed reluctant to talk about it at all with the three of them.

That had been a bit upsetting to their team, but not really too surprising.

So long as the three of them did what they felt was best and didn't die, they would be doing their absent leaders proud. At least, that had been the most Washington could, or wanted, to say on the subject. It seemed as if even the Above Grounder wasn't sure it was actually accurate.

Simmons suspected that, so long as none of them died horribly, neither Church nor Carolina would care if all they did was drive a transport in circles. The sentiment behind Agent Washington's pep talk was nice though, so he chose to go with that instead for his own personal point of view.

Things had been even more of a blur for him ever since arriving at the bunker that was serving as the Resistance's hideout, which was also to be expected given how quickly their deadline for the mission had been approaching.

The cyborg barely even had any time to adjust to the new environment or routines, apparently filling in for Grif's role on Red Team due to the other's poor condition.

It had been hectic and nerve-wracking at first. Honestly, it still was.

But, Simmons found himself fitting in a whole lot more in the mismatch of personalities amongst the Resistance members than he ever did with the general soldier populace of Above Ground, save possibly his own team.

Speaking of Above Ground, interacting with his old friend C.T. again had been wonderful too, even if they hadn't been able to really "catch up" or anything like that given how busy everyone was in the Resistance.

Sarge even reminded him of a rather more aggressive and violent Captain Flowers. He had tried not choking up the first time the red-armored soldier had patted his back and said he had done a good job with a task he couldn't even remember now.

Embarrassingly, the Above Grounder hadn't succeeded entirely in keeping the tears from his eyes, and "lightish-red" armor wearing Donut even asked him gently afterwards if he needed a hug.

Simmons, Sheila, and Doc all seemed to find niches they could fill with the Resistance. It was a welcome experience in a lot of ways considering how their group in Above Ground military had been treated as more or less "afterthoughts" a majority of the time.

Seriously, if they weren't dealing with a situation that was currently looking like it would wipe out more than half of their planet's population, Simmons would be relishing the chance to further acclimate to this new work environment.

Unfortunately, that really hadn't been much of an option since things had been very much trial-by-fire in the time that had blurred by since meeting up with the Resistance.

The redhead was happy to be here and eager to help. In some ways, not having too much time meant that he wasn't able to get so much into his own head and get too self-conscious. Which may be something of a plus, all things considered.

No, the worst thing about the whole experience at the moment was that looming over all of their heads was a timer and the knowledge that they might fail. That none of this would even matter in the end.

It was painful to think that he might not have the chance to adjust more, or to talk with Grif again.

Thankfully, or unthankfully, the two of them hadn't had much time to discuss what had happened before between them either. Not with everything else taking precedence.

Simmons really wasn't sure Grif should even be here, but the most he had been able to do on the subject was hound Grif into not pushing himself too hard. He even volunteered to take Grif's place on Red Team so that the orange-armored soldier wouldn't think he'd have to go out into combat when that was definitely not an option.

If they had more of a chance to talk, if Simmons blurted out why that was or how he felt even more then…

The cyborg sighed inwardly, letting his thoughts drift off since he knew this wasn't really the time or place to be dwelling on what-ifs.

"There! That was the last of them!"

Jensen's slurred voice broke through his thoughts, and he noticed her patting the shut storage compartment of the transport they were standing near.

He blinked, embarrassed at having gotten so side-tracked again in the middle of important work.

The two female lieutenants assigned to Red Team, Jensen and Volleyball, had been tasked with moving some explosives on to the transport along with the robot Lopez. However, someone had shouted for assistance earlier and Volleyball had gone off to help whoever it was, so Simmons offered to help the others in her stead.

"Thank you both for your help, sirs!" The maroon-trimmed lieutenant declared happily, saluting Simmons and Lopez.

Simmons smiled back in embarrassment and his usual awkwardness whenever he was praised, though he was a bit more comfortable around Jensen now in general due to their earlier talk before the rescue mission for Grif and Junior, "Well, it's not like I was doing anything so—"

¿Y quién en su sano juicio que sigue dejando cerca de los vehículos en el primer lugar? Si dejamos que lo haga solo, roturas del transporte darían a cabo y habría chocado contra una montaña. En cámara lenta con cantidades improbables de explosiones y una avalancha." {"And who in their right mind keeps letting you near vehicles in the first place? If we let you do this alone, the transport's breaks would give out and it would have crashed into a mountain. In slow motion with improbable amounts of explosions and an avalanche."}

Lopez was eyeing Jensen's hand still on the transport warily, as if expecting a horrible accident to occur due to the proximity. From what Simmons had heard about the young girl's driving records, perhaps the robot's concern was somewhat justified.

Oblivious to the trepidation in her seniors, Jensen regarded the transport thoughtfully, "What I don't get is why Sarge wants us to put the explosives in this transport to begin with." She mused aloud, "It's not even being used for this mission."

"¿Crees que se ha tenido razón?" {"Do you think he's ever had reason?"}

Simmons frowned, recalling that she was right about the transport not actually being used for the upcoming assault from data-pads he had seen involving which weaponry and machines they would be taking with them but remembering what Sarge had told them earlier, "He said it is for some kind of backup scenario in case things don't go as planned."

"Eso es sólo código para que él está esperando a soplar mierda hasta más tarde." {"That's just code for that he's hoping to blow shit up later."}

Jensen nodded, apparently thinking that this made perfect sense. She tapped a finger on her helmet, as if going through a mental list of whatever other things she still needed to do.

It couldn't be much, really. They had pretty much prepared everything and were just now waiting for the orders to move out.

Fuck. Simmons was fairly certain he had checked over everything about twenty times at least just to help with his nerves.

Truthfully, he had offered to help Jensen and Lopez with this last-minute preparation of Sarge's because he had been unsuccessfully hoping to avoid thinking of talking to someone in particular too.

"Captain Grif!" Jensen was waving said individual over as the cyborg was dwelling on just that.

Oh, fuck it.

Simmons tensed slightly at the sight of Grif hobbling over. The redhead could imagine the wince covering his friend's tanned face with the very effort, and he tried not thinking of the myriad injuries no doubt threatening to reopen with the movement and added pressure of the orange armor.

What the fuck was he thinking even being here?

The Above Grounder knew why the Slums dweller had wanted to reunite with his comrades, but even that had been pushing it given his injuries. While he knew Grif had wanted to assist still and could also more than understand the why of that too, the maroon-armored soldier really wished he had stayed behind.

It would have been best from a health stance if nothing else, and probably for Simmons' own state of mind too. Not to mention those of Kai as well as Grif's friends here as well.

As it was, at least Grif being assigned to the air transport meant he'd be more or less stationary and hopefully not directly involved in the mission. But, still.

"Sarge said Kimball is calling for everyone to get to their positions soon." Grif informed them as he came up, his helmet only just slightly covering up how winded he was at the effort it took to reach them.

Jensen looked slightly nervous, glancing around at her three superiors to gauge their reactions.

Simmons gave her a reassuring smile before remembering he still had his helmet on and nodded, "We've been preparing for this for a while, Jensen. Things are going to be fine."

"Yeah, after all this shit you guys have pulled recently, this will be a walk in the park." Grif chimed in, the redhead giving him a grateful glance for the added encouragement.

"You're right." He was fairly certain the tanned girl's grin was showing all of her retainer, "We have to do this."

"Eso sí, no follando duro y las cosas van a estar bien." {"Just don't fucking drive and things will be fine."}

Lopez added in his own words of encouragement, whatever they were, before apparently thinking of something else to say in that vein as well to the youngest member in their midst.

"O, mejor aún ... conducir y el objetivo correcto para el pueblo disparando a nosotros esta vez." {"Or, better yet...drive and aim right for the people shooting at us this time."}

From farther away, Simmons spotted the other Red Team lieutenants hanging back, evidently wanting to wait for Jensen before taking up their positions.

"I should get going then." Jensen had noticed that as well, her head tilted slightly in the direction of her friends before she regarded them again and saluted once more, "Thank you, Captains!"

Along with a friendly wave, the tan girl moved past them to join the other newer Resistance members. She spared a glance between Grif and Simmons as she did so before shooting a less than subtle thumbs up in Simmons' direction that caused him to blush horribly under his helmet.

He had found out that all of the lieutenants, particularly the females given their closeness to Kai, were very supportive of his feelings for Grif. Which was both touching and made things horribly awkward all at once.

Grif cast a questioning glance his way, but Simmons ignored it. Instead, he watched as Jensen caught up to the waiting Volleyball, Matthews, and Bitters.

He noticed that the male yellow and orange-trimmed lieutenants were standing quite close to one another, shoulders practically touching. Their fingers were just a few centimeters apart and every so often they would bump them against the other's, as if for reassurance.

Seeing that made him smile somewhat, but also caused a lump to form in his throat that made it quite difficult to look at Grif in particular.

"Supongo que debería irme demasiado entonces. No quiero llegar tarde a más probable es volar por los aires." {"I guess I should get going too then. Don't want to be late to most likely getting blown up."}

With that, Lopez walked off as well, which left the two friends standing there awkwardly.

Simmons wasn't really sure what to say or do. Truthfully, they hadn't really spoken about everything that had occurred before meeting up with the Resistance. He felt like even attempting to do so now given what they were about to do was just incredibly sucky timing, and there was nowhere near enough of it.

Besides, if Grif wanted to argue about the Above Grounder's decisions since he had reunited with the Resistance? Well, he'd prefer not doing that just now either.

"Hey." Grif spoke up just then, breaking into his thoughts and looking just as awkward over having done so as Simmons felt currently.

"Hey." Simmons fidgeted nervously, "Grif, w—we should get going—"

"I know." Grif sighed, looking defeated in his body language even through his armor, "Relics to find and people to shoot at."

The cyborg frowned, "You should be resting."

It was the closest thing the redhead would allow himself at this moment to say regarding what he really felt about Grif even being on transport duty in his current condition.

"You shouldn't have to be going on an assault like this to begin with." Grif shot back, "None of us should."

The maroon-armored soldier knew it was the closest the Slums dweller would get to voicing out loud his opinion on the shitty situation they were all in just because the current Chairman of the Council was a murderous asshole. At least since his panic attack at Simmons' house earlier.

Grif shrugged, "It is what it is, Simmons. I'm not about to just let everyone I care about go off and do something stupid without me."

"Even if that means doing something just as stupid yourself?" The Above Grounder asked, raising a red eyebrow.

He could just picture Grif's grin as he nodded, "Exactly. It is the world's dumbest game of chicken ever."

Simmons supposed he couldn't really argue, though he quickly muttered "Idiot." under his breath.

"Suck up." Grif's response was just as automatic, just as oddly tinged with fondness.

The tan man fidgeted slightly afterwards, "Thanks, though, Simmons. For everything." The injured Resistance member took a deep breath before continuing, "And for understanding, even if I know you want to scream and bitch at me right now."

The cyborg couldn't really deny that either.

Simmons smiled slightly, "It's more than understandable, Grif. I…I want to help too."

There was a heavy silence following that, and Simmons panicked thinking that he had said more than he should have at this point in time just then.

"I know." Grif looked at him pointedly, "Just don't die or something trying. Okay, asshole?"

"You too, fat-ass." Simmons nodded his head both in response to Grif's request and because he had just thought of something else he wanted to say, "Immediately after this, you're going on bedrest for months if you have to."

The Slums dweller laughed and Simmons was struck again by just how much he loved that sound, "You really won't have to force me not to do work when the threat of imminent doom isn't hanging overhead, you know."

"You are a lazy fuck." Simmons greed, smiling fondly.

"You should take it easy too for a change after this." Grif was looking at him contemplatively through his helmet, "You know, if your brain will let you that is."

The cyborg smiled more, not noticing the odd tension in Grif's body at that last comment, as if there'd been more meaning to the suggestion than he had let on just then, "I think we're all due for that if we manage to pull this off."

There was a beeping sound emitting from inside the redhead's helmet just then, a signal informing him that he should definitely be moving into position now. Seeing Grif tense up next to him, he knew he had just received it too.

"Need help getting back to the transport?" The Above Grounder asked, concerned once again over his injuries and him moving around too much. At least holding that transport position would mean hopefully limited movement for the Resistance fighter's injuries.

Grif shook his head, "Nah. I got here just fine on my own, didn't I? Might just need a few breaks along the way."

Simmons frowned, about to argue, when Grif cut him off preemptively, "You should head to your position before Sarge starts shouting louder. Or starts waving his shotgun around even more than usual."

"Right."

Reluctantly, the redhead turned to leave, only to be stopped by an oddly hesitant hand suddenly grasping his arm. He looked over at Grif questioningly, but the chubby man seemed just as surprised by his own action.

"Umm…" Almost reluctantly himself, Grif let the cyborg's arm drop and couldn't even turn his helmet to look at Simmons' visor, "Don't…don't die, Simmons. Seriously."

The maroon-armored soldier nodded, the lump in his throat seemingly getting bigger and the pounding of his nonexistent heart even louder than all of the other times when he was usually nervous or excited over something, "Y—you too."

Even through their helmets, there was a lot they knew the other was thinking without it being spoken out loud.

Hesitatingly, with a final nod to the other, they both went their separate ways.

After this, Simmons decided. The redhead knew he was more than fucking ready to lay everything out in the open between them.

They just had to be sure to survive this mission first.

---

"Any fucking time now. Literally."

Carolina looked over at her robotic "cousin" standing nearby. Despite the tenseness in her body language, he could just picture one of her red eyebrows quirking upwards in mild amusement to what she no doubt thought was the hilarious image of a fully-armored male stamping his foot into the snowy ground like a petulant two-year-old.

"Just a few more seconds." She remarked, before adding in pointedly, "You're the one who decided to go for the less direct approach, remember?"

Leonard Church had, if only because the timed-together attacks before had worked a lot better than he had anticipated during the whole rescuing the orange fat-ass and alien kid fiasco.

Fuck, apparently Tex and the crazy old guy in the red armor had launched an attack of their own then too, which had actually been what kind of inspired this whole plan they were going with now.

Carolina had wanted to simply go in guns blazing, especially since they had staked out a hidden away entrance that they knew wouldn't be as heavily populated, largely thanks to acquiring the layout of the entire facility due to his newly found awesome hacking skills.

Also maybe because Delta had helped him on that front too before he had returned to his partner York thanks to what had transpired after the previously mentioned rescue plan.

But, Church had just found out that he could do awesome shit like that, so he was going to roll with it since it was better than getting upset over his circumstances. Doc would probably be proud of him for trying to "think positively" or whatever other stupid shit the medic could turn into a motto.

Truth be told, Carolina's original plan would have no doubt worked out just fine, assuming they could disable the security features fairly quickly as they went.

But, this place was quite large in reality, and it was also housing the giant pain-in-the-ass relic of doom. Dealing with that along with the Director would be more than just a bit tricky since there was no way they could leave something like that alone if they did happen to come across it.

The Resistance had their own plans for the facility largely because of previously mentioned weapon of mass destruction.

In a way, it was easy enough and made a lot of sense from a tactical point of view to "piggyback" off of their already planned assault with one of their own.

Church preferred thinking of it as them "helping" the cause in a way. Another attack happening at the same time as the Resistance's would further divide enemy attention and, since they weren't actually at all in direct communication with the Resistance at the moment, they would never really be risking "jeopardizing" their goals by somehow unintentionally leaking intel.

If they came upon the relic-weapon first, they would sure as fuck destroy the thing. If they found the Director first, well…

Then the man who had not only put them through so much shit, but who had also helped turn the ancient alien tech into a mass-murdering bomb, sure as fuck wouldn't be around much longer to help anyone make another one.

Total win-win, really. Church knew that Carolina had agreed to the plan largely because she felt the same way on the matter.

He just hoped all of those assholes with the Resistance currently survived to appreciate the gesture. Or just because it would suck if they did die, but not like he was going to say that out loud anytime soon.

As if reading his mind, rather loud gunfire began going off from quite some ways away. The noise was muffled somewhat by the rock this side-entrance was built into to conveniently "blend in" to the environment. Which meant that they weren't really in much of a position to see what was actually going on at any of the other sides of the facility unless they hacked into a monitoring system later on.

But, considering that and how loud the weaponry going off still was, it was pretty obvious the sounds were being made by a whole shitload of guns and explosives.

Those morons better be okay.

The idea of camouflaging even part of the Sidewinder facility from view was pretty laughable, considering how there was no way anyone in their right mind who wasn't meant to be assigned here would just be randomly going for a goddamned stroll in this remote of a middle-of-nowhere area in subzero temps and stumble upon it.

He knew there had been some attempt at hiding the facility at the other points of entry too, though this was by far the one that seemed to be the most concealed—no doubt it was the entrance often used by the more important and higher clearance visitors and employees rather than just the average grunts.

They'd had to bypass a shitload of security to sneak to this spot themselves, and he knew a large portion of the Resistance's strategy had been to go in through a blind spot in the air surveillance thanks to the aforementioned attack that had landed them an air transport earlier. Then they would make their way down quickly before the alarm had been scrambled for too long.

Before he could even so much as move in response to his and Carolina's decided upon signal, the entrance they had been monitoring opened right on cue.

A group of soldiers stepped out, some in the typical white armor with various colored trims of the usual Above Ground military while a few were in the steel get-up of the mercenaries Hargrove was employing. They were apparently intent on using this more concealed space to launch some kind of surprise assault on the Resistance fighters, probably circling around in the hopes of catching them unawares.

The soldiers started at the sight of the two armored individuals who, for all intents and purposes, seemed to be waiting for the door to open. Technically, Church and Carolina had just been waiting for the attack to start in earnest, but that probably looked about the same to the soldiers here.

For all of his complaining and impatience seconds before, Church froze at the sudden presence. He'd expected just to move forward and hack the door open, not to be facing a shitload of heavily armed combatants right off the bat.

Carolina, however, was more than ready to make up the difference.

The cyan-armored Freelancer launched forward in a blur, incapacitating one soldier with a kick to the jugular while shooting the one next to him deftly in a move that couldn't have been more than three seconds apart from her first attack.

She was practically finished cleaning up before Church had even aimed his gun, though he noticed two of the soldiers that had been hanging in the back of the group inching towards the still open doorway behind them.

Oh, shit!

Church grimaced, shouting a warning of "Carolina!" to his human cousin while firing off a shot of his own.

The bullet buried itself into the wall about five meters away from either soldier, and Church suddenly remembered how much he hated target practice just then.

Since he clearly wasn't much of a threat with a weapon, and Carolina was just finishing making work of the last of their compatriots who hadn't tried making a run for it, the door closed and alarm bells began going off inside the A.I.'s head.

If they told, then—!

"Church!" Carolina's voice cut through his momentary panic, the woman jerking her head to the control panel lock by the door, causing him to remember the initial plan they'd come up with.

"I'm on it!"

Suddenly he was running, leaving his robotic body behind in the dust while phasing through the door. It was still a more than disconcerting feeling, but currently he didn't really have the luxury of dwelling on all of that. Which maybe was one positive out of this whole shit-fest.

Church still didn't quite understand the "how's" of it all. In his mind, it seemed like he just "thought" about something like the door opening when going through it, but it had to be more complicated than that.

Still, whatever it was he did, it worked. The door reopened before the guards had managed to take another step or were able to activate their communication links.

He was already moving back to his robot body when Carolina had shot one of the soldiers, who crumpled to the floor of the hallway in a pool of blood. The sight reminded Church a bit too much of when that one crazy-ass Freelancer lady shot him and he had stared down at his first body, so he quickly averted his attention away.

The other soldier had turned his attention to Church's prone form, having noticed his inactivity even if he probably hadn't pierced together what was going on with the miniature Church now floating nearby.

Which would suck, since having a body and all was kind of nice.

Church winced as he saw the soldier aim, or at least imagined the holographic form of himself doing so. He was still a bit iffy on the technicalities of his A.I. form, and whether or not he actually had a face under his helmet in it. Plus, he was more than just a little freaked out by dwelling too much on it besides to actively do so.

Carolina was just starting to turn her attention to the still-present threat when, very suddenly and very surprisingly, the enemy soldier in question had collapsed before Church's relative even had a chance to fire her weapon.

No, it wasn't the redhead who had taken their foe down. Rather, the gunshot that felled the soldier had come from behind them.

"What the-?" Church turned around to see just what had happened.

"Everyone's always rushing into things these days. Wouldn't you say, old chaps?"

Church tensed, recognizing the personable-sounding British voice anywhere. Largely on account of the person it belonged to having been one-half of the reason he had gotten shot and found out about the whole fucking "been an A.I. this entire time" bit.

As did Carolina, having interacted even more with the man who had been her former teammate than Church had before that whole incident happened. Though she honestly seemed way too fucking relaxed being in the traitorous Freelancer's presence than he would have expected.

"Wyoming." She said curtly in way of greeting, before adding to Church's complete shock, "You're a bit late."

"Yes, well, sneaking away is a bit of a tricky proposition when paranoid mercenaries are all about." The white-armored former Freelancer stated just as pleasantly as before, "Though it looks like you handled things well enough in the meanwhile."

Despite having no idea what was going on, Church couldn't help but bristle at the way he was obviously excluded from that sentiment by the tilt of Wyoming's helmet in only Carolina's direction as he made his way back into his physical body, "Hey! I did shit too!"

"Yes, you opened a door." Wyoming replied in a droll tone, "We're all very impressed."

"Oh, fuck you!" Church groaned, not appreciating the sarcasm that he loved dealing out himself, but definitely had a lower threshold for being on the receiving end, "That goes for Gamma too since I know he's with you."

"Hello. It is good to see you too, Church." The white holographic figure came flashing into view at Wyoming's shoulder, apparently deciding that was his cue to make his presence known, "Do you want to hear a knock-knock joke?"

Church wondered why Gamma was one of the few Fragments who took on a more human-looking countenance instead of appearing in armor. Truthfully, the less said about one of the other ones that also took that appearance the better, given the shitload of crap he was responsible for.

Gamma didn't address him as Alpha or comment on the merging of him and Epsilon, despite Church knowing he already knew all about that given the last time they had communicated.

Gary, as he liked being called by Wyoming in particular, was a Fragment he couldn't quite ever figure out.

"Yeah, we're so not doing this right now." Church glared at the two of them, "Come to think of it, why aren't the two of you trying to kill us?"

The two seemed more amused by the question than anything else, and that only pissed him off more. The Above Grounder hated being the last one to know something, especially now given all of the fucking secrets that had been kept from him and his teammates before.

He shot the still frustratingly nonplussed Carolina a look instead, "Shouldn't you be kicking their asses too?"

"You haven't told him yet?" Wyoming asked, looking even more amused by his posture if that was even possible, "Oh, this is good."

"Tell me what, asshole?" Church frowned, definitely not liking being the butt of someone else's joke, "The only reason you wouldn't be trying to kill us is—"

"If he had received a better offer to not do so." Carolina stated quietly from next to him, finishing his train of thought.

Church looked at his cousin questioningly then, already starting to form an idea as to where this conversation was going and not quite sure if he was going to like the end result, "You mean, he's been hired to fucking help us?"

She remained silent, pointedly not looking at him, which spoke volumes.

"After all the shit he pulled?" The A.I. asked disbelievingly.

"Never let it be said that our dear Carolina isn't generous." Wyoming stated wryly in way of his own explanation of recent events.

When she turned finally to look at Church, gunshots still going off somewhere behind them in the distance, her body language left no shred of hesitation, "We needed all the help we could get, Church."

"But—!" He stopped his protest before it even formed.

In a way, the Above Grounder knew what his cousin was saying was true. He also knew that as far as murderous, backstabbing mercenaries went, Wyoming actually wasn't the worst possible choice for an ally. He was motivated by money more than anything else, especially with what happened to Maine in the past and everything. So, technically speaking, it made sense to seek the Freelancer's services in particular if certain requirements were met.

Since he wasn't privy to any of this bullshit until just now, Church had no idea whether or not all of that had in fact been addressed. He also had no fucking clue how Carolina could even fucking afford Wyoming's services to begin with.

After all, the Freelancer had been working for Hargrove. He imagined that had nothing to do with any personal stake in the Chairman's power-plays with the Council.

No, unlike a very misguided Washington, Church knew damn well that Wyoming's loyalty to Hargrove had probably only extended as far as his considerable checkbook went.

"It's a rather clever strategy." Wyoming was recounting his own version of things as Church was still in the middle of processing the information, "Hargrove already paid me upfront for helping him to acquire the relic. I was never employed to guard it afterwards."

Leave it to the Above Grounder to know of all of the loopholes and technicalities when it came to mercenary employment. He imagined Wyoming was the type of person to check over a contract very particularly before agreeing to anything just for those very reasons, and he probably had Gamma do it too.

"Our friend Carolina here had a surprisingly large sum of money in her personal accounts." Wyoming added in, tilting his head once more in her direction, "Not to mention reminding me of all of the potential future customers I could lose if the Slums are disposed of and the other Council members are forced out of power."

Well, that made a lot of sense in particular. Church had suspected Carolina had some money squirreled away somewhere given her well-equipped safe house and all. Using the rest of it to hire Wyoming for this job in particular was a twisted sort of poetic justice in a way considering who had left it to her in the first place.

Looking at things from strictly a business stance, a healthy dose of competition in terms of political powers and the like was sure to up the prices and demands for hired soldier services later on down the road whereas, if someone had the monopoly on that, prices could possibly diminish.

It all made a whole lot of sense given what he knew of Wyoming's character.

Still, considering that there was no fucking way that Carolina had the type of money Hargrove had even if she had been saving everything, which he knew she hadn't as the safe house and some of her more pricey armaments were also a testament to that? Also, considering the fact that future, more lucrative business deals were only hypotheticals yet and nothing more?

Well, there had to be something else to sway Wyoming to this type of action.

It hit the A.I. a moment later, though his stomach churned at having to relive that memory himself. He'd been the one to provide that little snippet of information to Wyoming during their past encounter after all, and it had been really horrible news about one of the few people Church had ever genuinely liked to boot.

"That info about Florida must have done a number on you, huh?" Church mused out loud.

Wyoming stiffened momentarily at the mention of Captain Flowers' Freelancer name before shrugging, as if the question hadn't bothered him as much as he'd just let show.

The façade didn't last long in the slightest with the hard edge his voice took next, "Taking hard-earned money from someone for a job well-done and then ruining their later plans is a rather time-honored way to pay someone back. Wouldn't you say?"

Church couldn't really argue. In a way, truthfully, it was just the same type of poetic justice Carolina had implemented by choosing to use her family inheritance money to hire Wyoming in the first place for this assault.

Oddly enough, knowing the more personal motivations behind why Wyoming would even agree to fight with them actually had him feeling a bit more comfortable with the whole concept in general.

That still didn't mean he wasn't going to be giving a certain redhead a hard time for keeping him in the dark about the whole thing though.

He turned to Carolina then questioningly, "You didn't think to inform me of this because?"

She shrugged, and her rather calm demeanor suggested she knew full well he would react to the reveal this way, "Just a little payback for you sharing that intel about Florida without telling me before."

Damn it. A shitload of stuff had happened the day he had found out that he was an A.I., so he hadn't really remembered that until now. But, now that Church remembered, his cousin had been more than just a tad miffed that he had shared that information with Wyoming before letting her or the others know it considering he had been trying to kill them at the time.

In his defense, that information had actually swayed Wyoming to just let bygones be bygones, or whatever the term was in that instance, but Church should have realized it would eventually come back in some way to bite him in the ass.

Carolina definitely liked getting even, and this was an oddly playful way for her to do just that. Just like in the fake memories he still had of when they used to tease each other as kids.

He shuddered slightly and tried not to think on what would happen if he ever truly fucking pissed her off. Somehow he suspected it would involve his own robotic legs getting shoved up where the sun doesn't shine and a dumpster.

Wyoming cut through just then with a throat clearing, "Yes, well, as fascinating as this conversation no doubt is, we should best be getting a move on and all that." He was glancing past them towards the rock wall and the lingering sounds of fighting going on, "They can't really keep that up forever if you're intending to use the Resistance fighters' attack for cover."

"Agreed." Carolina nodded her head, "Let's see if we can't help even their odds a bit more from our end."

The two former Freelancers were already heading towards the door, Gamma disappearing once again. Church trudged along behind them, gun at the ready but really hoping he wouldn't have to use it anytime soon.

Hopefully, his more than apt plan of "staying behind Carolina while she deals with most of the combat shit and trying not to die in the meanwhile" would still be applicable. Maybe even more so with Wyoming in the picture.

But, as they stepped over the two fallen soldiers in the hallway and Church glanced down at them, a rather unpleasant thought crossed his mind. He sort of figured it was best to mention it now instead of getting another surprise later on.

"Where's the crazy one who shot me before?" He asked, curious and really kind of hoping she actually wasn't anywhere close by, "Are you two still working together?"

Carolina glanced at Wyoming as well, apparently curious about that herself. It made sense really, considering the shit that her two former Freelancer teammates had put them through before.

Wyoming stiffened, and Church had the distinct impression he had been hoping that they wouldn't have asked about Agent South Dakota at all.

"Things might get complicated with that one." He let out a long suffering sigh, "Evidently she found out her brother is here."

The two cousins exchanged looks, and Church could see the slight alarm building up in Carolina's brain at that newfound knowledge.

Things were a shit-fest as they were, and there was a lot of stuff that could go horribly wrong in terms both their own actions and what the Resistance was planning to do. But, that kind of complication was definitely just guaranteed to make things worse.

It didn't help their tension levels any when Wyoming added as they reached the lift leading down further into the more heavily guarded areas of the facility: "She went to go pay him a visit."

---

So far, there were no signs of Felix, Locus, or the white-armored Freelancer called Wyoming.

The Resistance leader had no doubt that all three were in the facility somewhere. They were probably staging an ambush to ensure maximum losses to their enemies before any of the Resistance's differing groups ever made it anywhere close to the relic.

Vanessa Kimball preferred to deal with the kinds of issues those three mercenaries represented head-on, and sooner rather than later when applicable. In fact, that preference of hers was apparently one of the reasons she and Sarge got along so well when the older man had first joined the Resistance.

She'd had to say as much when she had given her speech earlier to mark the start of the assault, her stomach twisting into awful knots even as she tried to school her disposition to not let it be visible to everyone.

The knowledge that their leader could very well be sending all of the Resistance fighters on their way to die had been putting a heavy toll on her from well before they had even been in the planning stages for this assault, and it had grown to almost overwhelming proportions now.

But, she had to press forward. Kimball tried comforting herself with the fact that at least she wasn't asking anyone to do anything she wasn't more than willing to do herself.

Really, it didn't provide much comfort at all. But, it helped her continue keeping up the appearance of being a leader. She knew she had to carry that image still throughout this mission until whatever end occurred, regardless of whether or not they were successful.

She hoped they would be.

While she hadn't been too convinced she had done a good job with any of the lead up to the mission, Sarge had clapped her on the shoulder and Tucker had given her a thumbs-up after her speech. There had been several nods of approval from the various people who she was leading into something even more dangerous than anything they had ever experienced before.

She suspected it probably didn't even matter if they had known she was also terrified and full of regret. All of them were too, after all.

Kimball just didn't want to fail them.

That was pretty much the mindset that propelling her through her team's assault on the main entrance of the facility. The Resistance leader focused on that to keep from thinking about anything else and losing focus on what they needed to do, on what they had come here to stop.

Their team's assault had the most enemy bodies in their way. The more Above Ground soldiers they drew out by being as loud and obvious in their attack as possible, the better for everyone else.

That meant the Reds and Blues would have less distractions and potential risks blocking them from making it inside. If those two teams could get in, the odds were doubled for one of them finding the relic.

The dark-haired fighter had lost count of how many people she had shot since they had started, everything from before the last-minute prepping at Sidewinder to the attack a blur.

That even included the contents of her actual speech, brief and succinct as it had been. Looking back now, she couldn't recall a word of it with that bullets flying past her and the cries of enemies and allies alike filling her ears, despite clearly remembering the reactions to it from some of her friends and subordinates.

They were pressing forward. That was all that mattered currently. Her team had to make sure they were keeping up the attack and making headway to the front of the installation as Above Ground soldiers and Hargrove's hired mercenaries swept in from all sides to try to block them.

York was laying fire in the rear with Delta's assistance to keep their group from getting mowed down from attempted back attacks.

She and North, along with Theta, were supplying cover fire in all other directions to ensure none of the enemy forces were able to get too close and enclose them in.

Tex was using her weapons sparingly, preferring when applicable to barrel into any unlucky soldiers who tried being too cocky and who got too with enough force to send them almost comically flying through the air in sets of three or more.

The visual created by the redheaded Freelancer somewhat reminded Kimball of what she had heard about the pins in a game from Old Earth called bowling. If they weren't in a life or death struggle at the moment, the imagery would have been rather laughter-inducing.

With just sheer force of will and persistence, their assault team had somehow managed to get to the main entrance despite the amount of fodder and people actively trying to kill them.

The heavy-looking double-doors were left wide open in a rather morbid display of hospitality.

Kimball frowned up at them, and she could almost picture Felix having something to do with the open invitation. Her thoughts on the possibility of the mercenaries planning an ambush felt almost confirmed as it was far too obvious a ploy.

Either the Resistance would be overly cautious and not go in, risking everything they had come here to do and jeopardizing the Slums even more, or they would go in regardless and Felix would get his chance to gloat before truly setting the trap off.

After all, the mercenary liked putting on a show, and he liked when people knew full-well that was exactly what he was doing too.

"That's pretty nice of them." York mused, exchanging a look with his two former Freelancer compatriots in particular.

From the tone of his voice and the way their body languages were both tense and amused, it was obvious they had the same thoughts as Kimball as to what the open doors meant.

She took in a deep breath, "It would be rude to keep them waiting, wouldn't it?"

Tex nodded, cracking her knuckles, "Probably."

The dark-skinned woman's grip on her gun tightened slightly, "We wouldn't want to be rude." She muttered, "Let's go."

The Resistance leader took a step towards the doorway, the others following.

"North, look out!"

Suddenly, Theta was shouting, terrified, as a bullet just barely missed the right side of North's neck.

Instead, it hit the limp body of an Above Ground soldier he had taken out just a few minutes ago.

"That brat's always given me trouble." An unfamiliar voice to the Slums resident mused from farther away.

Looking towards the voice, the first thing she noticed was that on the ground there were three bodies of enemy combatants that none of their assault team had dealt with. Then Kimball registered that those corpses surrounded the newcomer in their midst as she lowered her weapon.

North tensed, both at the sight of the orchid armor with green trim and at the voice he clearly recognized. York and Tex also seemed less than pleased by the sudden intrusion.

Agent South Dakota, however, seemed oddly relaxed and at ease as she regarded her twin.

The Freelancer didn't even seem to notice the weaponry that was now trailed on her person as she nodded in a seemingly pleasant fashion in his direction, "Hello, brother. Long time no see, huh?"

---

Author's Notes: Finally, a new chapter update! XD

I apologize for the delay, especially considering this is more of a set-up chapter. Things had been hectic at work, and my beta reader had also been even more insanely swamped than usual the last few weeks so I postponed sending the chapter to her until her schedule had cleared up. Hopefully though there is a little bit in this chapter to entertain to make up for the wait. I should have some other writing out a bit quicker after this one. :)

Not really too much to talk about in this chapter necessarily as it's more or less my attempt at getting to the Sidewinder battle a bit quicker. There were some much needed sibling reunions both between Kai and Grif, as well as North and South (no spoilers on how that is going to turn out! XD). Wyoming made a bit of a surprising turnaround. We also got to see some Tuckington and Grimmons moments, more of which will be showing up in future parts. The final fight will be coming in full force in the next chapter, so hopefully my action sequences will be up to snuff!

I hope this chapter was at least a bit enjoyable even with it being more of a set-up. As always, thank you so much for reading! :D