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 Two: Aliens

Richard "Dick" Simmons stared at the vast wasteland, caught completely off-guard by the sight as Antoine Bitters apathetically helped the shocked redhead and Matthews through the hole they'd traversed through when they had first found the cyborg. "What the fuck happened here?" Simmons couldn't help but get out in one terrified burst of air. He couldn't process that this was indeed the same area he'd last seen before going to sleep.

He was so used to seeing verdant greenery as far as the eye could see leading up to the temples so it seemed as if he had awoken to an alien planet. Splotches of green fought to once again take root in order to reclaim what used to be buildings, but the vegetation seemed to be growing at a snail's pace given the scorched earth it had to traverse. It seemed that the road leading to the Temple of Interior Decorating had long since been lost, replaced instead with strewn rubble and struggling tufts of grass.

As they began carefully making their way to the ground transport that the group had evidently arrived in, the dark-skinned lieutenant called Bitters eyed him cautiously, though it was hard to take him seriously with his hair being a multitude of different colors atop his head, "So you really slept through it?" Bitters asked, his tone indicating he had a hard time believing the claim, "The Great Disaster?"

"Great Disaster?" Simmons questioned, furrowing his brows as he didn't liking that particular wording one bit. Though, looking around his current surroundings, the phrase certainly explained much in quite a straightforward way.

"Oh, he wouldn't have had a choice!" The woman known as Doctor Emily Grey came flouncing into view along with the brunette who had introduced herself before merely as Huggins, "Those cryostasis pods are designed to not wake their subject until their programming states to, or they're manually overridden."

"Huh." Bitters cast an indifferent glance the maroon-wearing man's way then, "Lucky."

"Yeah." Yet somehow, Simmons didn't exactly feel lucky. He used the sudden lull in conversation to glance towards Grif again, still rather unnerved at the now older man's age compared to when he saw him last as a teenager. The fatass was smoking. Simmons sighed, really hoping that the tan-skinned man in orange hadn't ruined Simmons' heart already. It wasn't like he had another he could give him now.

Matthews glanced between Bitters and Simmons nervously before taking in a deep breath to change the subject, "Did you two find anything else, Doctor Grey?" He asked both her and Huggins, voice clearly hoping they did.

Huggins spared the temple one more glance, looking as though she were fighting the urge to give it the finger, "Nope!"

"Besides rescuing our friend Simmons here, the temple was exactly as we expected it to be. Dead as a doornail!" Grey further explained in a far more cheery voice than the situation warranted.

Grif let out an exasperated sigh, "Of course it fucking was." He muttered under his breath, apathetic to the bone.

"It always fucking is." Bitters stated rather bitterly, while Matthews and Huggins hung their heads dejectedly.

The atmosphere just then became heavy and tense which Simmons found hard to fathom given his already high stress levels. The cyborg fidgeted under the intensity of the group's collective emotions, unsure of what exactly they were talking about. The temples all over Chorus had somehow gone inactive? Was that even possible? "Um…" Simmons began, though he stopped himself when he realized he wasn't sure what exactly to say or ask.

Doctor Grey gave him a rather sympathetic look, as if reading the redhead's mind. She turned to the others, "I think we should make camp here before attempting to go back since it's so late already." She said, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. Simmons felt like she was asking them to sleep in a graveyard.

There was a noticeable groan in response from Bitters, though Matthews and Huggins readily shushed him. Apparently one didn't really argue with Doctor Grey, Simmons noted. Grif merely shrugged, as if the matter didn't affect him in the slightest. It probably didn't since Grif used to be able to sleep anywhere.

"Perfect!" Grey smiled and clapped her hands together as if the matter was settled, "That way we can fill Simmons in on what he's missed out on."

…Simmons nodded in reply, already feeling that this was going to be a very, very long night.


Simmons discovered that the cataclysmic event that everyone referred to as the Great Disaster must have happened sometime shortly after Doc had put him into cryostasis. For no discernible reason that anyone could perceive, Chorus' self-defense systems, set up eons ago by Chrovos, had suddenly activated all at once, decimating the very planet that they'd been meant to protect. Many people died as a result, and many more followed in the tumultuous days initially afterwards when chaos, confusion, and hysteria were the norms.

Eventually, the survivors who hadn't turned to outright banditry began to unify at the remains of the old capital city of Armonia to discern the damage, as well as to ultimately rebuild. The survivors ran into several hurdles though, one of the main ones being that there were hardly enough resources to sustain everyone. Plus, the temples that could have potentially helped in that matter had all ceased being accessible. Chrovos themselves had gone missing following the Great Disaster, and those few surviving Servants of Chrovos had been left with no idea where the deity had vanished to.

Even worse? There was apparently a deadline for when the planetary security system would go off again. "Could be a year from now, could be twenty!" Grey admitted in a way too cheerful singsong voice than what the situation warranted. Only the still missing Chrovos could potentially stop the security system.

Prioritizing getting the temples back up and running for quicker resources, all while trying to locate the missing god of time, were now the only ways that anyone knew to survive. The people of Chorus were all in a constant state of rebuilding, a doomsday clock looming overhead. Such was the world that Simmons had woken up to, a far cry from the relatively peaceful one he had known before. Sure, back then there had been bandit attacks at the outposts on occasion and being a Servant of Chrovos hadn't always been the best but…

It was a whole fuck-ton to process. Simmons was still trying his hardest to do just that well after the others had called it a night, staring into the dim light of the now struggling fire the group had made. He made no attempt to get up and refuel it. An extremely large part of the redhead, panicked and unsure, almost wished that he was back asleep underneath the Temple of Interior Decorating. But that wasn't exactly fair to everyone else who had been stuck enduring this nightmare, now was it?

The sputtering firelight gleamed off his new metallic arm, and he glanced down at it with a frown plastering his face. The sleek design was worlds above his previous limb, which had simply been Sarge's crude rush job. When, exactly, had his cybernetics been updated? It must have occurred before Chrovos disappeared. Was that the last task that the god performed? An almost guilty feeling crept over Simmons at the thought, especially when he realized for the first time that he was actually free for once in his life, only for it to be under such nightmarish circumstances.

"Hey." Dexter Grif's voice coming from directly behind brought him out of troubling thoughts and Simmons started.

"Hey." He replied back weakly before smirking slightly to cover up his troubling thoughts, "Can't sleep?" Simmons smiled somewhat as if at an old joke, "Bet that's a first."

"It just might be, Simmons. It just might be." Grif grinned in response, sitting down next to Simmons, who felt oddly grateful for the contact.

For a few moments, a comfortable sort-of silence settled between the two men. Then Grif let out a breath he'd evidently been holding, "It's a lot to process." He finally mumbled.

"Tell me about it." Simmons gripped his knees tightly, shaking his head as he closed his eyes, "I can't even imagine."

"Then don't, Simmons." Grif advised him succinctly, "It's not a pretty picture."

"Right." Then, because it was the only thing he could even think to say, "S—sorry."

Grif shrugged absentmindedly in response, "Not like we haven't had years to get used to this." He said apathetically.

"But…!" Simmons wanted to protest, but the look on Grif's face told him it really wouldn't matter what he said. So instead, the cyborg blurted out another question he'd been meaning to ask, "How's Kai?"

"Still alive and kicking." The heavyset man replied, genuinely surprised yet also touched at the same time by the question about his little sister.

Simmons let out a shaky sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction, "And Sarge?"

"About the same as always." Grif assured him, "Maybe even crazier."

"And…" Simmons was about to ask after someone else, anyone else who came to mind really, when Grif raised his hand to cut him off.

"Why don't you wait until we get to Armonia and you can just check the databases yourself instead of playing Five Hundred Questions here?" Grif asked with a yawn, "That might be easier on the both of us."

As curious and anxious as Simmons was, he had to admit that Grif had a point, "You're right. Sorry, Grif. It's just—!"

"I get it. Believe me." Grif reassured him, and a keen look of understanding was in his mismatched eyes, "I was a wreck the moment I realized what happened too, trying to find everyone."

The way he said that caused Simmons to frown speculatively, "You mean you weren't at Blood Gulch?" He asked. As much as the younger Grif back then always claimed to hate that place, it seemed odd to picture him not being there all the same.

"Long story." Grif said, letting out a rather powerful and pointed yawn, "One I don't really feel like sharing."

"Oh." Simmons' shoulders slumped, his innate curiosity hitting a proverbial brick wall.

Grif saw the rejection in the redhead's body language and sighed, "But it's no big deal or anything." He tried weakly reassuring Simmons, "We'll get things sorted out as soon as we get to Armonia. You'll see."

"R—right." Simmons said, faking more confidence than he truly felt, "Thanks, Grif."

"You're welcome, nerd." There was a slight pause then, and Grif looked away before adding under his breath, "It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back." Simmons was surprised by how genuine the feeling behind that statement was given everything he'd learned about the Great Disaster, "Though I wish it were under better circumstances."

"Tell me about it." Grif snorted.

Still, it felt rather nice being around Grif again. Even if things were rather different now and the whole world seemed alien to him. Simmons wasn't sure exactly why, but he smiled slightly. If Grif noticed, he thankfully didn't say anything. They both sat there for a while longer near the dying fire, lost in their thoughts.


The transport the group was riding in towards Armonia was halted just outside the city gates. All Grif wanted to do was get inside, and maybe get a certain nerdy redhead settled. Then plop down at home with something to eat before taking a long, overdue nap. It fucking figured it wouldn't be that easy.

"'Bout time you showed up!" A familiar, gruff voice stated, causing Grif to groan and roll his dual-colored eyes, "We were just about to send a search party for everyone but Grif."

"Missed you too, Sarge." The heavyset man muttered sarcastically under his breath.

"That never gets old." Huggins joked over her shoulder to Matthews and Bitters while Grey hummed to herself in the background as the older man in red armor went to help her get her scanning equipment from the vehicle.

There was a slight pause in Sarge's step when he registered Simmons standing sheepishly nearby, "Well, I'll be!" He exclaimed, his brown eyes widening in surprise, "Simmons, is that you?"

Grey grinned and winked, patting Sarge's arm affectionately, "Never let it be said we didn't come back with a souvenir!" She joked.

Simmons timidly took a step forward and actually saluted in true kiss-ass fashion, "Hello, sir." He greeted Sarge, "Sorry it's been awhile."

Grif couldn't help but sigh at the cacophony that resulted from that. So much for trying to sneak in a nap undetected! But Simmons was back. The redhead hadn't disappeared in the middle of the night, no matter how many times Grif found himself checking. There had been no orders from a missing god to send Simmons away again. He could be grateful for small favors, at fucking least.


Author's Notes: Here is Chapter Two! I apologize if it isn't the most exciting of updates, but I thought I needed to explain a bit more of Chorus' current situation in this fic. I liked having the chance for Grif and Simmons to have more of a heart-to-heart as a result! :)

Next update: familiar faces show up as reunions and meetings are had! :D I'm looking forward to those reunions. Thank you so much for reading! :)