Part V
They sat in their shared room; at least that much hadn't changed. Simmons had gestured for him to take as seat on one of the beds and he had done so, but had been surprised when the other marine had sat next to him. Time passed, and they were silent until Simmons spoke up, his voice soft, comforting and very different to how Grif was use to hearing him.
"Grif... Oh, where should I start...?" He paused again, eyes glued to the subject of his deep concern. "Yes, you're right; we did use to hate each other but... not anymore." Once again Simmons paused, letting Grif process the information. "I know it's a lot to take in, the new... limbs and other... changes. But, well, it's kinda hard to explain. Things changed when—" Sarge coughed from the doorway, shaking his head.
"Not now, Simmons." Simmons looked ready to protest, but Sarge shook his head, adamant on his stand point. "Grif, I know you don't much like the idea of being a Cyborg, but God damn it, try ta be a man about it boy! No more sniffling and crazy tantrums. And don't so much as try ta hatch up some diabolical scheme to enact your revenge! I'll be sleeping with one eye open from now on... Simmons! Come with me!" Simmons gave Grif a meaningful look, but slowly rose with a half-hearted 'yes, sir!' and headed out after the CO.
It was a second after they left that Donut walked in.
"Grif, here are the cookies I made you yesterday." He held them out for the other marine to take, but when he didn't move to grab them he set them down on the bed next to him. Hesitancy was written all over his body before he sat on the bed across from Grif.
"Grif... I know this is all so very confusing but... this isn't a dream. I like to think I know you well enough to know what goes on in that head of yours, so here's some food for thought: 'All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream'." Donut sighed, standing up before taking the few steps there was between them and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Keep that in mind." He moved towards the door, stopping only at the last moment with his hand on the doorframe. Donut looked back over his shoulder and spoke one last time before leaving:
"Those are double-choc-chip cookies, by the way. Made from scratch."