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 Three: Welcome to the Reds and Blues, Simmons…
Richard "Dick" Simmons left the diner in mulling, brooding silence. He hadn't wanted to stay much longer once he had finished the meal that was now resting heavily in the pit of his stomach, especially after Grif made a snide joke about having to "walk the nerd home."
The redhead would show that orange-wearing asshole that he could get home on his own, even in the current downpour! …Honestly, why had the chubby man even decided to bring Simmons along to the restaurant if he was just going to make fun of him the entire time? Couldn't Grif tell Simmons was possibly sensitive, but in a totally manly way? The cyborg's practically nonexistent self-esteem could only handle so much.
Simmons thought about the way their conversation had trailed off towards the end of the meal after he had been asked what his plans were regarding Church's team. The pale-skinned man sighed, realizing he had a lot to think about beyond how much of a jackass Dexter Grif could be.
A part of Simmons really did think that what Church was trying to do was admirable and, that part of him wanted to help if he could. But, the other part of Simmons, the one that had largely been responsible for keeping him alive for as long as he had been following his escape?
Well, that part was understandably more than just a bit wary of the potential limelight such actions were sure to put him under. What if his parents recognized him from a news article or a television report? Or, far worse than even that, what if the men who had taken him before did?
…Was it worth the risk just to try and make a difference?
Simmons paused from his running thoughts on an unfamiliar street corner in the rain, swearing to himself when he came to the sudden realization that he had no idea where exactly in the lower districts he was.
At times like this, he supposed he could at least be mildly grateful that one of his "upgrades" happened to be a rudimentary form of GPS. The cyborg tapped his temple, right near his cybernetic eye, and began to cycle through its various features before getting said program started.
Damn it. It seemed that he had a ways to go before he would be back at his apartment building. Simmons sighed and pulled his soaking hoodie closer to his body. At least the walk home would give him plenty of time to think things through. After all, overanalyzing data was something of a hobby of his.
The day after he had proposed the team idea to his chosen few idiots, Leonard Church woke up in something of a mood.
His "sunny disposition" was mainly due to the fact that Tex had left late the previous night to follow up on some leads about Charon without telling him anything. Again. Fucking bitch knew he hated how much she and Carolina often felt the need to keep him in the dark, yet she constantly did it anyways and Church kept getting frustrated. He must be a masochist.
In fact, the main reason as to why he had decided to try and form this team in the first place was to better stay in the fucking loop. Church was so fucking tired of always being the last to know anything, as if he didn't deserve a say in what went on in his own miserable life.
Sheila appeared in holograph form to greet Church the second he groggily stepped out of his room. As he mumbled about how he needed a goddamned coffee pot right by his bed, Sheila acknowledged the cobalt-wearing man with a polite dip of her head, "Good morning, Church." She flickered momentarily, "Things seem to be rather lively here for once."
Church couldn't help but raise a dark eyebrow incredulously at her statement, "Please don't tell me that Caboose got near the stove again."
But, that couldn't possibly be it. Unless the younger man had somehow damaged the fire and smoke alarms this time too which, given Caboose, wasn't out of the range of possibility.
Sheila smiled and shook her head at Church's comment, disappearing and rematerializing a moment later at the top of the foyer stairs, "It might be best if you go down and see for yourself."
Curious and more than a tad perturbed by her playful, secretive behavior this early in the fucking morning, Church took the Virtual Intelligence's advice and headed down the stairs. It was too fucking early for this shit.
"This is so great!" Church could hear Caboose's voice saying rather loudly, "It's like a super-secret party! …Where is the piñata?"
"Oh, oh! If there is one, I am a pro when it comes to whacking!" Ah, so Donut was here too then? Maybe that was what Sheila had meant…
"No me sigas mirando." {"Don't keep staring at me."}
Okay, Church had definitely not expected Lopez to be here. If he was here, then that probably meant…
"Son, if this is a party than it is the sorriest excuse of one that I've ever seen." Sarge's Southern drawl spoke up not a second later, "Where's the shooting and explosives booth?"
"¡No todas las partes tienen esas!" {"Not all parties have those!"}
"Lopez is right!" Donut chimed in again, "A party needs a karaoke machine!"
"...Oh, mierda." {"…Oh, shit."}
"It might be too early for that." Doc's cheerful voice entered into the fray gently, "What about the neighbors?"
"I say we invite them!" A girl's loud voice suddenly remarked, "It isn't a party until you've crammed as many people as you can into a tight, sweating space!"
"Yeah, yeah…" Doc began, "Wait, what?"
"That sounds like fun!" Donut exclaimed, "I love cramming!"
"Yeah! Where are we on the piñata exactly?" Caboose inquired, "Candy's always good."
Not wanting to overhear more of the ridiculous conversation, Church raced down the stairs in order to prove that his ears weren't deceiving him. Sure enough, they weren't.
Doc, Donut, Caboose, Sarge, Lopez, and Kaikaina were all crowded into his foyer. The group's talk on whether or not this constituted as some kind of party stopped when they looked up at his gaping mouth.
"Well, well. Look who's finally up from his beauty sleep!" Sarge harrumphed, arms crossed over his chest.
"'Bout time! We've been waiting here forever!" Kaikaina grumbled, motioning to the door with her head, "My brother went outside for a smoke. That was, like, two hours ago! Hope he didn't fall asleep again."
"Good morning, Church!" Doc greeted politely, "Did you rest well? Orange juice might help with those dark spots under your eyes!"
Church stood at the bottom of the stairs, blinking for a few moments before he found his words, "What the fuck are you all doing here?"
There was a glance shared amongst the group, and Donut beamed, "I told you that he'd be surprised!"
Sarge huffed, "Isn't it obvious?" The red-wearing man asked gruffly, "We came to join the team."
"... Contra todo mejor juicio." {"…Against all better judgement."}
"On a trial basis, of course." Doc emphasized, hands gesturing in a halting motion.
Kaikaina shrugged, "At least until I have something better to do," she mumbled as she wriggled her dark eyebrows, "Or someone."
"It really is just like a party!" Caboose noted happily, "Church! This is going to be so much fun!"
Church was shocked into silence by the admission. He must have looked like an idiot with his mouth still hanging open in surprise as Sheila reappeared next to him on the stairs.
"Isn't this what you wanted, Church?" She inquired, regarding his disbelief with mild concern.
"O—of course!" Church said as he tried to recover quickly. Still, he couldn't help admitting: "I just hadn't really expected it, if I'm being honest. I mean, I know I am pretty fucking convincing, but this—!"
"I can barely fucking believe it either."
Church turned his attention to the doorway, where Tucker stood with Junior. His friend gripped his son's hand tightly in his own, as if seeing the motley crew gathered in the building was making him second guess being there.
The boy waved shyly with his free hand at the assembled group while Tucker finally smirked up at Church before speaking: "I'm just shocked you managed to actually put a team together. Your people skills suck."
Church frowned at the comment, "Hey, asshole—!"
Tucker held up a hand to cut Church off, "Congratulations, dude. I really mean it." He said, though the dark-skinned man's expression became serious a second later, "But we need to talk."
Both Church and Lavernius Tucker made their way to the rooftop of the building, Tucker rather glad that Doc and Donut had latched onto the idea of "babysitting" Junior while the friends were having their talk. With Sheila's supervision, of course.
He'd trust Sheila with his kid in a heartbeat. He didn't know either Doc or Donut really well, but they both seemed nice and harmless enough besides being total morons. At least the computer program could be as protective as a fucking tank when she felt the need for it, so there were no concerns for Junior's safety while Tucker and Church talked.
Once the two men were standing awkwardly in the slightly chilly and damp air, Church turned to Tucker and crossed his arms over his chest, "Well?"
Tucker sighed. Best to just get this shit over with. Neither of them were good at beating around the bush. It was probably how they had become such good friends in the first place.
"You know that what you're doing is fucking crazy, right?" Tucker finally asked, eyes narrowing darkly.
Church huffed indignantly, "It isn't any crazier than the entirety of that fucked up Project Freelancer everyone still seems to miss." There was a definite bitter edge to his voice just then, not that Tucker could really blame him for it.
The teal-wearing man shook his head, letting out another tired sigh. It figured that Church would bring that up.
"That is so not the point here, dude." Tucker informed Church emphatically, "You're expecting to train people who have no experience with fighting something as organized as Charon is?" That would be fucking challenging even for someone who has way more skills than you do."
"Hey!" His friend bristled at the remark, "It's not my fault people fucking suck!"
Tucker raised an eyebrow but otherwise chose to ignore Church's outburst, "Charon is the same group that's been proving a challenge for Tex and Carolina, isn't it?"
"That's the exact reason we need some kind of team now!" Church tried reasoning emphatically.
Tucker knew that, in his own way, Church just wanted to do right by those few he cared for. He knew that, but still… "I get it, Church. But is it really worth the risk?" He asked with a frown on his face.
Before Church could open his mouth to respond, Tucker carried on, "What about the civilian lives of everyone you're trying to recruit?" He asked, "What about me, trying to raise Junior on my own?" Tucker shook his head, "I'm not sure I could do that and constantly put his life in danger. Or leave him without a fucking father."
Church frowned and, from the furrowing of his brows, it seemed as if he was actually mulling over what Tucker had just said. Tucker waited rather impatiently for him to just finally fucking say something.
"So that is what you've been up to."
Both men spun around at the voice coming from the shadows, and Tucker was surprised to see a blond-haired man who looked strangely familiar standing there. The man was dressed in gray and yellow, a largely unimpressed expression looming on his freckled features.
Church's face darkened suddenly at the newcomer's presence just as realization dawned on Tucker, "Washington!"
"Hey, you're the extra quiet guy who moved into my building!" Tucker couldn't help exclaiming at roughly the same moment as Church's outburst, "What the fuck are you doing here?"
Once more, Simmons found himself standing in front of Church's building, heart (or whatever was his new equivalent of a heart since he wasn't sure on the details) thundering loudly in his chest. Currently, the cyborg was trying his hardest to take in deep, calming breaths to soothe his anxiety.
After all, the redhead had decided to return here. On his own, no less! Even if Simmons still wasn't entirely sure what his decision was yet, he might as well see how things were progressing with the others. Who knew? Whatever he saw might help make his decision easier, one way or another.
As Simmons made his way over to the building, he was stopped by a sudden, casual greeting of "Hey."
When he glanced towards the voice he found Grif standing in the doorway's shadow, smoking. The chubby man glanced over at Simmons with something akin to slight interest in his dark brown eyes. But, all Simmons could see at that moment was that the orange-wearing man was smoking. Again. Did Grif just not give a shit at all about his health?
Simmons sighed and spoke before he could stop himself, "You know, you're seriously going to ruin your lungs if you keep that up."
He half-expected Grif to haul off and punch him, or flick the cigarette in his face. Or just insult him. Anybody else would have.
Instead, surprisingly, Grif regarded the maroon-wearing nerd with mild amusement as he carried on with enjoying his smoke. "Looks like you made your decision after all." Grif noted at length.
Simmons felt his face grow warm as he became somewhat flustered by the remark, "I—I suppose so."
He started feeling defensive and glared, somewhat afraid that Grif was going to tell him something along the lines of that he was a spineless idiot who couldn't hope to match up to the rest of them. …Why did Simmons suddenly imagine Grif saying that all in his father's disapproving voice? If there was one thing he could say about Dexter Grif, it was that he was nothing like Simmons' father.
Instead, the heavyset man surprised him once more. Grif's amusement in regards to Simmons only seemed to increase at the cyborg's suddenly defensive body language. He uncaringly tossed his cigarette onto the entrance's steps. Simmons couldn't help but make a face in disgust at the blatant littering, an expression that was promptly ignored by Grif.
"Well then, I guess it should at least be pretty entertaining to see what happens next." The tan-skinned man informed the cyborg before opening the door to Church's building, almost as if he was waiting patiently for the redhead to follow him inside. …Simmons was pretty sure he was just moving lazily like a sloth though.
Simmons couldn't help but frown as he followed Grif's lead, not quite sure what the other had meant. His anxiety came back in full force when he heard the door shut behind them. Yet, when he saw Grif's suddenly amused smirk at the cyborg's obvious expense, he couldn't help but feel pissed off.
Author's Notes: Next up on Specials…Washington gets a lengthy lecture on the finer points of stalking and lurking in shadows, plus a training exhibition match suddenly gets rather awkward for poor Simmons. XD I hope you will be looking forward to it! :)
Thank you very much for reading this story! :D