Hey guys, sorry that the second part of the camping trip isn't up yet, but I had to do a Father's Day Special for Red Team, plus this kind of gave me some feels. So yup, enjoy!

Sarge sat in his room, looking sadly at the picture on his desk. A beautiful woman and two boys, both around 15 or 16. He thought back to the old days, before he winded up stuck in this canyon, before the PTSD drove him mad, back to when he had a normal, happy life.

A knock on the door interrupted his sentimental thoughts. "Come in," Sarge said in his gruff voice.

Simmons entered the room. "There's nothing to report about the blues, but Grif's-are you okay, sir?" Simmons' expression turned to a look of concern when he saw the sad look on his CO's face.

"Simmons," Sarge sighed out. "Can I trust you with the information I'm about to divulge?"

"Yes, sir."

"It's getting close to Father's Day, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, it's got me a bit down because...I had two sons of my own, Jacob and Matthew, and a loving wife, Jenna. I haven't seen them in a long time, hell, I'm wonderin' if they're still alive. I'd give anything just to see them again, but I got no clue how to do that."

Simmons fell silent. This was certainly something he wasn't expecting out of his gruff, usually cold hearted, superior officer.

"Simmons, you're a good kid. Hell, you remind me of Jacob; intelligent, punctual, and respectful. I think you two would get along very well."

"Thank you, sir."

Sarge sighed out, "You're dismissed."

What Sarge had told him haunted Simmons throughout the day. He'd always had father issues in the past, but he never imagined that the one man he looked up to as a father figure had thought of him as a son. Seeing Sarge so depressed like made Simmons realize that he needed to do something.

He was halfway done with his project when Donut entered the room. "What are you doing with Sarge's tools?"

Simmons looked up. "I'm making him a toolbox, one that's more organized than what we had before."

"What for?"

Simmons sighed. "It's getting near Father's Day, and apparently Sarge has two kids he really misses, but he doesn't know if he's going to see them again."

Donut gasped. "So you're making him a Father's Day present? I should get him something too! ..Can I?"

Simmons gave a small smile. "Go ahead."

Donut immediately dashed off in an extremely creative mood.

Unbeknownst to either of the two soldiers, FireHawk and Grif had eavesdropped on the whole conversation. After Donut was gone, FireHawk grinned at the orange soldier, "I have a couple ideas of my own."

Sarge exited his room, shutting the door behind him, ready to get on with the pointless war with the blues. However, he didn't expect to see Simmons standing outside his door, arms folded behind his back.

"Sir," the maroon soldier began, "I-I wanted to tell you that...I...had a lot of problems with my father when I was smaller...h-he wasn't around much, and he always had me do sports even though I suck at them...but I always thought of you as something like a dad to me...and I-I wanted to give you this."

Simmons held out a red toolbox. "I m-made it more organized than the last one...I wanted it to be something that was useful...b-but I hope you like it."

Sarge gave his right hand man a small smile, taking the toolbox gratefully and opening it to reveal his tools, all organized by types and sizes. "Simmons."

The maroon soldier looked up from where he was shyly rubbing his arm and staring at the floor. "Y-Yes, sir?"

"This..is the best gift I've ever gotten. Thank you."

Simmons didn't know what to say. Luckily, he didn't have to say anything, because Donut burst into the room, wearing a pink apron and oven mitts, holding a batch of cookies on a tray. "Sarge! I made you cookies! I put red frosting on all of them, and decorated it like our red flag!"

Sarge went to look at the cookies. Each circular pastry was covered in red frosting, with the black and white cobra on it. "They look great, Donut."

Then, FireHawk entered the room, with Grif. "Hey Sarge, I got you a new shotgun!" She held up a shotgun with a red ribbon on the barrel. "Feel free to test it out on Grif over here!" She gestured at Grif, who was covered head to toe in target circles painted in red. "You can get 5, 10, or 15 points, depending on how vital the organ is where you shoot him. You get 20 points for a shot right between the eyes!"

Grif grumbled, "I can't believe you made me agree to this."

"Hey, I am gonna revive you if you die!"

Sarge grinned at his soldiers (and FireHawk). Sure, they may not be his sons (and daughter), but they were certainly the closest thing to family he had at the moment. He loved them all, even Grif, although he didn't show it all the time. And he knew that they would always stand by his side to the end.

And there was no better Father's Day gift than that.

Grif: Did you have to put targets all over me?

Me: Yes, yes I did.

Grif: I hate you.

Me: I have Oreos.

Grif: I officially forgive you.

~TheAlmightyFireHawk