Locus helps out both a nerd and a friend.


Pairings Beyond Grimmons:

~N/A

Other Notes for This Story:

~Set some undefined time after the events of Season 15 (and probably Seasons 16 and 17 too), so SPOILERS exist.


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

A Little Push

Richard "Dick" Simmons felt himself fall down the rocky precipice as soon as the ground gave way. The Reds and Blues has been under the fire of seemingly a million bullets from some new opposition bullshit. Typical Reds and Blues bullshit resulting in Simmons once again being a dork.

The redhead let out a very manly "Eep!" as he slid, his brain calculating how far the drop before wondering why he'd agreed to Sarge's idea of splitting up from the others to test the "high road." He knew that if he hadn't just kissed Sarge's ass like always, then Grif would have likely volunteered in his new self-sacrificing capacity and Simmons' chest ached at the thought of potentially losing the orange-wearing fatass again. So, like the asshole that he was, Simmons volunteered himself.

His musings were interrupted by a sudden hand jutting out to break his slide down the yawning precipice, gripping the maroon-armored man's arm to pull him into a rocky outcropping not visible from above. Simmons began to catch his breath, the adrenaline fading to a dull roar against his skull.

"Captain Simmons." Locus' camouflage unit deactivated entirely then, revealing a figure in green and steel armor who was always rather intimidating as fuck despite his currently "reformed" status.

Simmons blinked in surprise at the sight of the former mercenary. He'd nearly forgotten that they'd run into Locus on this remote planet in the middle of who-the-fuck-cares. The planet probably had a name, but Grif's earlier description of it was pretty fucking accurate considering none of the maps the Reds and Blues were given seemed to have any labels on them. Truth be told, Locus had separated from their group just as quickly as he'd met up with them, believing he could help in a discreet manner while the Reds and Blues did their typical "In your face, assholes!" approach.

Locus inclined his head slightly to regard Simmons, as if he knew that the cyborg was gaping at the mercenary like a fish struggling to breathe out of water despite the helmet, "Are you all right?" Locus asked with all the emotional capacity of a cardboard box.

"L-Locus?" Simmons asked tentatively, swallowing nervously. He hadn't been around the guy much since Locus had gone on his path to redemption. Usually the Freelancers, Grif, or Lopez were the ones Locus would normally spend his time around. Which was cool and totally fine! Simmons didn't sometimes worry that he might be replaced! Never!

"Are you all right?" Locus repeated his earlier question, as if talking to a child who wasn't comprehending his lesson.

"I..." Simmons swallowed again as he did himself the favor of not looking at the rocks still sliding down behind him to who knows where, "Yeah-I'm okay."

Locus stared at Simmons briefly for a moment before apparently deciding his statement was true enough to drop his grip on the redhead's arm. Simmons sheepishly rubbed his arm, laughing nervously, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Locus turned to glance up at the height from which the maroon soldier had fallen, "Captain Grif would never let me hear the end of it if you'd fallen."

"R-really?" Simmons blinked in surprise, trying to squash down the oddly elated feeling those words gave him.

The former mercenary, taciturn as always, chose not to respond to the strangely hopeful inquiry. Instead, he moved farther down the outcropping, "We should get moving." Locus informed the Red.

"Right." Simmons replied, quick to catch up.

Apparently his speedy response was enough to catch Locus off-guard because he turned his head slightly to regard the cyborg as they traveled, "You do not seem to be wary of me."

Simmons paused, unsure of what to say. Locus had been a terrifying enemy for the Reds and Blues back on Chorus and, if he was honest with himself, the towering man was still intimidating as fuck. But, no, Simmons wasn't particularly wary of him anymore due to a very particular reason, "That's because Grif trusts you." Simmons blurted out before he could stop himself, his face heating up beneath his helmet.

"..." Locus turned to stare at the cyborg, and Simmons fidgeted nervously under his gaze.

"I mean, he doesn't look it, but Grif's a pretty good judge of character!" The redhead lamely squeaked out, "If he says we're cool now, then we're cool."

"I see." Locus turned back to face their path out of the cavern, "You must trust him a lot."

Of course Simmons did. Because he and Grif were partners, teammates, best friends? Maybe, possibly (hopefully), more than all of that? But Simmons wasn't comfortable saying that out loud to Locus just yet, or anyone really, "Yeah, of course!" He managed to get out instead.

Locus made a noise under his helmet that sounded vaguely reminiscent of a snort of laughter, and Simmons couldn't help the sharp burst that came out of his throat either. He'd nearly fallen to his death, only to be saved by Locus and then ended up talking to the mercenary about Grif. Not the day he'd scheduled in his planner at all.

"He talked about you the most. Back then." Locus suddenly said quietly.

Simmons fell silent, a spike of guilt running through him because Locus was no doubt talking about Iris and the rescue mission. Fuck. He was never not going to feel guilty that he hadn't been able to work up the courage to say how much he hadn't wanted Grif to quit back then. He just hoped he was doing enough now to show how grateful he was that Grif was back since he never wanted to lose him again.

"I volunteered to split up from the others before he could." Simmons blurted out before his brain caught up with his mouth, "Because he would have and I..."

He trailed off, and Locus sighed, "I believe that sentiment is shared." The mercenary muttered under his breath.

"What?" Simmons asked, blinking in startled confusion as a river of rocks and pebbles rained down upon the outcropping behind him.

Suddenly, a heavyset figure in orange armor was sliding down to their level, "SIMMONS!" Dexter Grif called out not a second later, turning his helmeted head to see his teammate, "Oh, and Locus too. Hey, dude!"

Locus remained silent as Simmons stood watching Grif regain his balance, "Gr-Grif? What are you-?"

"Looking for you, duh." The heavyset man fixed Simmons with a glare, "We're supposed to do the crazy, stupid shit together from now on, remember?"

"B-But...!"

As Simmons tried processing his thoughts, he wasn't aware that Locus had taken a step closer to him until he felt the shove from behind, and then suddenly he was stumbling forward, threatening to crash right into Grif if the other man hadn't grabbed a hold of his hand and held him upright against him.

"Whoa! Be more careful with your footing, nerd!" Grif exclaimed, both fondly and in concern all at once.

"R-right." Simmons turned his head quickly to regard Locus. The mercenary stepped back as if he hadn't just done anything. Only the slight incline of his head in Simmons' and Grif's direction gave him away.

"We should get moving." Locus informed them without preamble, already doing so.

Grif looked from Locus' retreating form to Simmons, his hand still grasping the cyborg's own as Simmons stood dumbfounded, "Dude, you okay?" He asked, a slight note of worry to his voice.

Simmons couldn't help but smile somewhat underneath his helmet, and he didn't even care that they were in enemy territory and that Locus could only give them a modicum of privacy. He squeezed Grif's hand, inwardly delighted when Grif returned the gesture and didn't instantly let go, "Yeah. I am now." Simmons assured him.


Author's Notes: Apparently having one "Locus helps play matchmaker" isn't enough! XD