Part VI
Grif had lingered in his room for a while longer, a weird feeling in his chest that couldn't be explained. This world, this reality was so different to his last one; his real one. He sat, contemplating, wondering about the different scenarios; or, mainly, about the differences he was now witnessing. This over-thinking had given him a headache. He sighed, moving the plate of cookies to the small bedside table and shifted so he was lying down on the small cot, and let his eyes drift close.
'All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.' Donut's words echoed through his sleep.
When Grif woke, he thought he was alone. Shifting so he was sitting up, the orange marine glanced around the room until his eyes landed on Sarge. He stood at the doorway, leaning on the frame and staring at Grif with a curious gaze, an almost proud gaze; it was something so foreign. Grif sat; silent, staring back at his CO with unhidden confusion. This whole dream was a pile of confusion.
"So, Grif, remember anythin'?" Grif frowned, shaking his head. Sarge sighed; "well, if that's tha case..." He crossed the room in four quick steps, an ominous look on his face as he came closer. He paused before the bed. "We've beaten the Blues. O'course, you did nuthin, you lazy son-ov-a-bitch. Simmons surprisingly rose up to tha challenge and gunned down a few, Donut was prancin' around puttin' flowers in guns, distractin' the Blue buggers while I figured out their diabolical plan B. You see, they started the battle that led to their demise, but my brains were tha ones to bring 'em down!" Grif stared a moment, blinking in exaggerated movements.
"Why are you telling me this? And if we did win... which I doubt, why are we still here? And how could a tank run me over if they were dead?" Sarge smirked, folding his arms across his chest.
"You remember somethin', don't ya?" Grif glanced away, chewing his bottom lip. Sarge huffed, shrugging before turning around and leaving. Grif sat still; Sarge was a little nicer in this dream. Could it be because he was a successful experiment? He sighed, shoulders slumping. Who was he kidding, of course it was for that reason. And the only reason Simmons was worried was because he felt guilty—for one reason or another. Grif lifted his head slightly, reaching over to the plate of cookies and picking one up. He took a bite.
"'All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.' Shoulda known you'd read poetry, Donut."