Above Ground

by Yin

AU. Dexter Grif really only ever wanted to keep himself and his sister out of trouble, and maybe get a few naps in while he was at it. But chance encounters end up putting him in the thick of a battle to save his home. ...Figures. {Grimmons, other pairings mentioned in fic.}

23. Chapter 23

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 Twenty-Three:

Kimball wasn't sure what to make of the news she had just heard.

Her stopping abruptly in midstride must have illustrated just as much to the person standing in front of her. The younger soldier suddenly clammed up with a nervous swallow at her direct stare, looking around awkwardly at pretty much anything in the area but the Resistance leader.

She had been so caught up in reviewing the battle strategies they had been preparing in the back of her mind that she hadn't even noticed Lieutenant Matthews approaching earlier until he'd saluted and actually spoken. His words were only just now starting to sink in given where her mind had been moments before.

"I'm sorry. What was it that you said again, Lieutenant?" Kimball asked, trying to buy herself more time to process everything.

The pale young man blanched even more, shifting uncomfortably where he stood as if very likely afraid she might be one of those "shoot the messenger" types. She wasn't, for the record, but given Matthews' tendency to overreact to things she couldn't blame him for probably assuming most people who were his superiors were.

"Um…an Above Ground military transport was spotted past the designated safe zone." He repeated haltingly, "Agents Tex and York went to investigate it."

She closed her eyes for a moment, "That's what I thought you had reported."

Worst case scenarios flooded her brain, as she had pretty much expected them to the first time the rookie had sought her out with the information. Unfortunately, there were no preventative measures to buy herself more time. The dark-haired woman could have sighed ruefully at having even attempted to do so once again.

Had Above Ground or their mercenary allies increased their search radius following the recent escapades of some of the Resistance members, especially since their searches closer to the city proper so far had yielded nothing? Had the shielding Tex cobbled together for her little hideaway somehow been compromised without anyone knowing? In other words, was this lone transport perhaps just a precursory wave, or—?

"It's one ground transport, and a pretty heavily damaged one at that." North informed her, breaking into her spiraling thoughts. The purple-armored former Freelancer had just stepped into view right next to Matthews, who looked more than just a tad relieved to have the attention currently taken away from himself.

North had no doubt been observing the situation along with the others before deciding it was best to give her more details. Which also probably meant that it hadn't been an exceedingly recent turn of events either.

She sighed, "No one informed me of this earlier because…?"

The blonde gave her an apologetic smile. He knew well enough after having listened to her vent to several people, himself and Sarge included, how some of the actions taken earlier that week without her knowledge had been more than just a tiny aggravation to the leader of the Resistance.

To be clear, it wasn't that Kimball was heartless or that she hadn't understood why they took such actions. The idea of sitting around doing nothing hadn't sat well with her either, after all. Besides, to say she hadn't at least predicted Tucker's actions in particular was an understatement.

But, the whole "rescue plan" had been extremely reckless and could have had the potential to have gone very, very differently. Many of those differing routes more than likely could have resulted in the deaths of several Resistance fighters, and the plan to go after the relic before it became weaponized could have easily been jeopardized beyond repair.

She was exceedingly grateful that hadn't happened and, all things considered, the outcome had been better than anything she could have hoped for. Junior was back and, while he wasn't here due to the situation at hand, Grif was apparently safe now. At least according to their Above Ground contacts. Beyond Tucker and Caboose, who they still hadn't been in contact with since Sarge and the others had somehow lost track of the blue-armored fighter, everyone was accounted for.

Tucker and Caboose's unknown status was worrying, despite continued assurances from their allies that in this case no news about them on enemy channels was more than likely good news for the Resistance members.

Still, even with the amount of successes, that did not mean that she wasn't upset at how things had played out all the same. As the one technically in charge, regardless of how she originally felt about that responsibility, Kimball needed to be informed of matters as they came up.

"The transport only became noticeable to us about twenty minutes ago. Whoever the pilot is, they are pretty good at covering their tracks." The former Freelancer said in way of explanation.

Ah. Since Kimball had been walking pretty much everywhere around the encampment for the last few hours due to all of the preparations at hand, she hadn't really been easy to track down.

Given how out-of-sorts Matthews had been when he had approached her, the auburn-haired young man had probably been someone that Tex had spotted and "coerced" to help track Kimball down the second they had noticed the vehicle.

"As far as we can tell, it also isn't apparently registered to the Above Ground military anymore." North continued, "Which means—"

"They have manually deactivated all of the information on it to avoid being detected easily by Above Ground security." Kimball finished for him, a sudden hopeful realization hitting her squarely in the chest at the notion as she watched the blonde carefully to gauge his reaction, "Tucker and Caboose?"

It seemed that Caboose had evidently wandered off to assist in retrieving Tucker after the rescue plan had finished. Sarge had regretfully informed her of that following their return, and she belatedly remembered the younger soldier's tendency to wander off surprisingly quickly out on the field too. A few times Caboose had gotten quite lost in the tunnels when they had first met, often at times requiring search parties. Thankfully, that tendency had faded to being more of an "every couple of months" occurrence rather than a daily one as the blonde learned his ways around the Slums and the adjoining area better.

Given how Tucker's part of the whole rescue escapade had been the most attention-grabbing at the time, at least before Tex and the others had decided to help out with an impromptu distraction at an air field, it made sense that the two would have had to have gone into hiding before rejoining the others. If nothing else, it allowed for some time to simply let the heat on them die down a bit.

Even Tex, as skilled and frighteningly capable as she was, hadn't joined back up with the Resistance until two days after her addition to the plan. Understandable, given that she had to make a break from a military compound on her own after securing the air transport for the others.

When she finally did so, Tex had waltzed right in as if it was any other day, casually throwing a gatling gun to the ground with an unapologetic shrug of her shoulders.

Kimball had been so relieved and shocked at the time that even her annoyance at the former Freelancer for her part in the "rescue mission" came a bit later.

"It certainly seems like it could be." North nodded his head in agreement with her assessment, looking rather hopeful himself, "But Tex and York wanted to go ahead just to make sure."

Truthfully, it was a sound strategy. The two would more than likely be capable of taking care of things if it turned out not to be the hoped for return of their comrades and, in the process, they would buy the others time to decide on what they would do next as well.

"Let's go see for ourselves." She decided after only a second's worth of contemplation, knowing that it wouldn't be too long before they got back if there had been no major hiccups.

Kimball sent a nod of thanks and a quick dismissal towards the relieved-looking Matthews before she and North made their way to the hideaway's main entrance. She was fairly certain the lieutenant had been in the middle of a supply retrieval mission for Doctor Grey earlier, and it was usually best for all involved to not keep the doctor waiting too long.

Sarge was already standing at the entrance, looking decidedly grim with his shotgun out on display just in case.

Nearby as well were Lopez and Donut, the two most senior members of Red Team minus Grif currently. The brown-armored robot seemed largely disinterested in what was going on, tilting his head only minimally to the side at the two newcomers before apparently shifting his attention to pretty much anywhere else once again.

Donut seemed to be rather eager about something, jumping a little where he stood. Kimball had a feeling he was hopefully thinking what she had been earlier, perhaps even planning on how to best greet his friends the second they came through the door. She felt her lips tugging slightly upwards at the thought despite herself.

C.T. was also there, Junior clutching onto the brunette's hand tightly. The former Freelancer and current Blue Team member's expression was more guarded than Donut's, but softened slightly as she smiled whenever Junior looked up at her. The brunette perhaps not quite wanting to be as positive that this could be a happy outcome as the others given her past experiences, but not wanting to diminish that hope for the others given that the excited air about Junior was almost a perfect mirror to Donut's.

Andersmith was standing close by the two of them as another representative of Blue Team. While he was trying to mimic C.T.'s more composed stature and Sarge's more alert stance, it was obvious the older man was just as excited about the possibility of Tucker and Caboose returning as Donut and Junior were.

Kimball knew that the other lieutenants had been assigned tasks earlier in the day, though she suspected that at the very least Kaikaina would probably be racing over here if she caught wind of what was possibly going on. No doubt several of the others would do the same too.

Her eyes drifted back towards Tucker's son. Ever since Junior had come back, he had been glued to someone's side. Often it was C.T., Kaikaina, or one of his other designated babysitters amongst the Resistance fighters. Barring any of them, he could usually be found hanging around the younger recruits. At least once he had even been spotted following Sarge, the alien child listening to the older man's rant so fixatedly that seeing it had caused Kimball to smile a bit.

She suspected Junior's separation anxiety was most likely a reaction to how he had been treated and isolated by the Above Ground researchers. Understandably, he wasn't too keen on being alone again for any lengthy period of time.

Even when Junior had been "put to bed," he would wake up earlier than anticipated and try to seek out anyone he was more familiar with. Once Kimball had found him curled up by Tex while she was checking over her weaponry, a clear look of anyone says anything about this and I will personally end them written clear as day in the redhead's dark eyes. Following the second such occurrence the Resistance fighters became even less likely than before to approach Tex, even when it came to viable tactical reasons, for fear of her slamming them into the wall if she perceived they were mentally making "big sister Tex" jokes.

Kimball then offered to let the boy sleep in her designated office space instead. She was up all the time going over strategies and other preparations, or even trying to figure out what to say in the journal entries she still tried recording when she could. It seemed that the constant noise of her work, or of others coming and going, seemed to relax Junior rather than disturb him.

In a way, the child's presence had also helped her to relax too. Junior served as a reminder of some of the positives that could happen even in seemingly very hopeless situations, at a time when she desperately needed such reminders.

"Blargh!" The half-alien tilted his head slightly at Kimball's presence, copying the motion from C.T. as Andersmith saluted quickly.

The dark-skinned woman gave them and the assembled Red Team members a brief nod and a slight, reassuring smile in return before raising a black eyebrow wryly in Sarge's direction given how closely he held his weapon at the ready.

"I don't think Tex or York would bring back anyone they suspected of being potentially dangerous, Sarge." Kimball reminded him.

No, if the occupants of this mysterious transport turned out to be enemies, Kimball knew sure enough given who their escort was that there would be an impromptu shallow grave dug nearby even now as they spoke.

He harrumphed, still focused on the main entrance as if expecting the always sealed metal doors to suddenly explode inwards at any second, "Always a good idea to be prepared."

"Can't argue with that, I suppose." She remarked, and perhaps the irony of the conversation had finally sunk in to the red-armored soldier just then because he shot her a split-second questioning glance with his brown eyes.

"Suppose I had that coming." Sarge stated quietly, but there was a distinct look of approval and relief on his face all the same, "I wasn't sure what to make of the silent treatment you were giving us regarding the rescue plan."

Kimball sighed, not really sure she would have used "silent treatment" to describe her lack of talking about the issue in general.

Truthfully, no one had really brought up the matter to her beyond giving her status updates after the fact. She just hadn't really wanted to discuss it out of hand due to the conflicting feelings of annoyance and relief she felt over the outcome, along with the recent news of the relic's location too.

"It's not like I can't understand why you went through with it, or why Tucker and the others beforehand did either." She admitted to Sarge, partially relieved to have been given the opportunity to air things out without it being insanely awkward for either party, "And I am mostly beyond happy that things have turned out as they have."

She paused in her discussion then, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes as she added, "But that doesn't mean I didn't want you to sweat a little over it still."

He chuckled at that, and she knew from that response alone that she had said just what was needed to get the soldier over his own oddness about how things had played out, "You're more diabolical than most people give you credit for, Kimball."

Vanessa Kimball smirked playfully back at him, knowing that from Sarge that was a pretty high compliment. In some ways she considered the leader of Red Team an oddly good friend by now, so she was glad they were getting back to their normal interactions.

The older man seemed more at ease now knowing that they were on good terms again, relaxing a bit even with the present situation at hand.

Really, if he hadn't been so stubborn about wanting to just focus on mission prep since coming back and had just worked over his odd trepidation to actually talk to Kimball about his decision earlier, he could have saved himself from the awkwardness and fear that she was anything more than just slightly upset over having not been informed about things.

She had already talked to Tex about their whole role in the rescue plan, and had told the lesser ranked fighters that she understood why they had acted as such in the first place. Things had more or less gone back to routine following that with all of them, despite any earlier frustrations she may have had about how things had played out.

Perhaps the idea of upsetting his commanding officer had actually been so much more of a cause of anxiety for Sarge. It made sense given how he always tried to instill a respect for the proper chain of command in everyone else in the Resistance that he had just been way too uneasy at the prospect of bringing it up until now. Even if he had felt the rescue mission was important at the time, she could understand why he would have a harder time dealing with the aftermath.

After all, he'd left Above Ground when Sarge had found out that his superiors had been intentionally misleading him. While he had felt that decision was the right call, Kimball knew more than anyone that it had not been an easy one for him to make given his sense of loyalty. In that particular case, Sarge felt they had more than enough betrayed his trust when they had sent his subordinates out to die on a completely unnecessary mission. But, that didn't mean the older man had made even that decision lightly.

"If it does turn out to be Tucker and Caboose?" Sarge began, motioning to the doors once more, "You gonna yell at Tucker more for coming up with the whole dang plan to start with?"

Kimball frowned and glanced over at Junior, who was now gesturing wildly in what appeared to be a rather lively conversation with a nodding C.T. and an equally enthusiastic hand-waving Andersmith.

"I suppose that will depend on the circumstances." She finally admitted to the senior soldier, "If only one of them comes back, or they're grievously injured…"

Yes, she would be a lot more likely to yell and be angry if they made Junior or any of the other Resistance members worried and upset.

"I think you'd probably have to get in line, in that case." North joked from nearby while Sarge nodded his head quickly in agreement with the sentiment.

The former Freelancer had been watching the exchange between Sarge and Kimball with a fond look in his pale blue eyes, as if he'd known all along that the whole thing could be easily sorted out with just a few words.

The Resistance group had become a tightly knit, oddball family in a way. The notion was enough to make Kimball feel oddly touched.

It was really only a few seconds later that they ended up getting their answer, Tex and York walking through the opening doors with a handful of rather haggard-looking people in tow. Three of the armored figures she recognized right away.

Caboose was waving enthusiastically with Freckles in one hand, a huge grin on his face. Beyond some smudges on his blue armor, he looked no worse for wear regardless of what exactly he had been through these past few days.

Considering how Caboose had looked the first time she had seen him approach her in the tunnels all those years ago, as a sad and dejected Throwaway with far too many cuts and bruises all over, anytime that she saw the younger Resistance fighter in a good mood always made her rather grateful. This particular instance was no exception.

Nearby him, helping to keep Tucker standing upright, was a more worse-for-wear looking Agent Washington. Both he and the teal-armored fighter seemed to be the worst off of the bunch given the various dents and marks covering their armor.

Given how the Freelancer had one of Tucker's arms looped over his shoulder and the obvious limp that Tucker was sporting, not to mention what appeared to be an actual hole in his lower right leg armor that still had traces of dried blood splattered around it, it seemed as if Tucker hadn't managed to avoid injury as well as his younger teammate had.

Kimball frowned slightly, wondering if she shouldn't get someone to send for Doctor Grey while the reunion was just starting.

A woman in silver armor was talking to Tex animatedly, as if walking into a concealed bunker she had most likely never seen before was the most perfectly normal thing in the world. It was fairly obvious given the casual way that the black-armored Freelancer was responding to their discussion that the two somehow knew each other.

Behind the two of them was a less sure-looking man in gold-trimmed white armor. Kimball honestly couldn't place either of the two strangers, although odds were good they were both with Above Ground at some point.

Floating over by York, and apparently in a rather familiar discussion with him as well, was a miniature green form. It didn't take her too long to recognize the form as an A.I. given what she had heard about them from the former Freelancers and having seen one in person herself with Wyoming's Fragment partner, Gamma.

By the large grin on York's face, no doubt this particular Fragment was Delta, his former A.I. partner that the brunette still affectionately called "D" at times when he was reminiscing about his past.

Twinkling into view right over Tucker was a similar armored holographic figure, this one clad in purple. It was almost as if the A.I. was scanning the unfamiliar faces in front of him as soon as he was visible, looking for someone.

"I don't believe it." She heard North whisper behind her, his voice nearly catching at the sudden emotion swelling up in it, "Theta!"

"North!"

The tiny figure had spotted him as well, and suddenly North was running past Kimball and Sarge in a blur. A sound that almost could be described as a combination of laughter and a sob of relief raced past the former Freelancer's throat as he stopped just in front of Washington and Tucker, attention focused entirely for that moment on the A.I. who was now floating at eye-level with him with hands outstretched as if he wanted to give the blonde's nose a hug

It was oddly touching despite how it might appear absurd to someone who didn't know that they were watching a reunion that was long overdue given the size differences of the two, particularly with North also having his arms wide open as if wanting to hug the Fragment as well.

"I thought you had…" Theta trailed off, almost sobbing, and North smiled reassuringly.

"I know. I'm sorry." He was saying, almost looking as though he were about to tear up at any second, "I never meant to leave you behind."

"You wouldn't have. I know." The childlike A.I. nodded as if trying to assure North desperately of that fact, "I tried being brave. Even when it was lonely. I tried to be helpful!"

"Fucking awesome was what he was." Tucker cut in with a grin, and Theta seemed both bashful at the praise and grateful for it.

"Always has been." For all intents and purposes, North had the look of a proud parent as he and Theta moved to the side to continue speaking together.

Tucker turned from the unexpected reunion of the two partners to regard everyone else with a grin.

He had barely gotten out a "Miss us?" remark when his eyes landed on his son, already racing forward to greet him just ahead of Tucker's teammates including Caboose, who somehow in the excitement of the event seemed to forget that he'd actually been with Tucker the whole time. Both Donut and Lopez joined in as well, although the robot seemed content with staying on the outside of the swarming group of humans and one alien child.

"Junior! I fucking missed you the most!" Tucker pulled away from Washington and hobbled forward just as Junior's teal blur was within reach.

Tucker dropped to the ground only wincing slightly at the pain that seemed to jostle his leg injury, enveloping the child in a relieved, bone-crushingly tight hug in the midst of the small crowd around them. Washington looked awkward standing so close to the display, but the Freelancer was smiling slightly all the same at it.

Kimball and Sarge exchanged a knowing look between the two of them then, both realizing that she wouldn't be yelling at anyone on account of this. There was a playful smirk on Sarge's face, and she had a feeling it was probably mirroring the one on her own.

There were certainly a hell of a lot of questions to ask later, but for right now? Kimball was more relieved than she had been for quite some time, and she didn't really want to ruin that for anyone else yet either.

Tex watched the exchanges quietly, before heading over to the leader of the Resistance with the two people still unfamiliar to Kimball following her as well.

"The ground transport's securely squared away along with the air one." The black-armored fighter said in her usual way of no-nonsense greeting, her helmet's dark visor still turned in the direction of the reunions.

Kimball nodded her thanks, though the possibility of that not being the case hadn't even crossed her mind to begin with. After all, Tex was always incredibly thorough when it came to tying up loose ends.

If the transport was something that the redhead felt would be useful to them later on, it would be hidden away until it was needed. If it had been damaged beyond repair or seemed to be too much of a risk, anything that was remotely salvageable would have been stripped away and then the vehicle itself somehow destroyed.

North, York, and the two miniature armored Fragments were now in a very animated discussion that she couldn't bring herself to intrude on just yet given how relieved all of them looked. The same could be said with Tucker, Junior, and the teal-armored fighter's comrades.

"I know Agent Washington already, and obviously you Freelancers know the A.I.s." Kimball managed to pull her gaze reluctantly away from the happy scene, "But who are these two?"

The former Freelancer motioned to the silver-armored woman who nodded her head quickly before removing her helmet entirely, "This is the pilot who hauled Tucker's ass out of the fire." Tex explained, "Four Seven Niner used to work for Project Freelancer."

"Job's gone to shit in more ways than I can count since then, though." The dark-haired woman supplied herself, raising an eyebrow, "Can't say I wasn't already looking around for different employment when this opportunity came along."

Kimball smiled slightly, noting how relaxed the Freelancers in their midst seemed to be with Four Seven Niner's presence here and taking that as an encouraging sign. If Tex in particular thought someone was a threat, she would make it known right away. As would North and the others, now that she thought about it.

"It's because of you this reunion took place then." She told the pilot conversationally, "Thank you."

Kimball motioned to Junior and Tucker again in particular, surrounded in a tight knit circle of other fighters that seemed to all apparently be trying to talk at the same time given the cacophony of sound wafting towards them from that direction. The father was still clutching on to his son tightly, as if afraid to let him go again given everything that had happened.

The tanned pilot shrugged indifferently, "It's no biggie. Like I said, I had plenty of free time." There was a gleam in her eyes following that remark though, "But I'd be more than willing to call it even if you let me pilot that air transport once it is in tip-top shape again."

"We might have need of that later on, actually." Kimball replied, sparing looks with both Tex and Sarge.

After all, the transport could perhaps play a vital role in their upcoming strategies and no one in the Resistance was incredibly capable as a pilot given how most of them had spent their lives completely underground up until now.

Volleyball had done a surprisingly decent job with piloting considering she had never flown before during the rescue mission apparently, but her takeoffs and landings were exceedingly bumpy to say the least given that lack of expertise and practice. It was probably a miracle that the transport had actually been capable of flying at all following its crash into a military base.

"I'd like to look her over then too, if that would be possible." The Above Grounder pilot offered, "I like knowing my machines inside and out."

"Might be good to have you meet up with Jensen and Lopez later then." Sarge spoke up, a thoughtful look on his face, "Those two have been tinkering with the thing since we got back."

Four Seven Niner nodded her head in agreement, her gaze going back to Tucker and Junior moments later, "So, that's his kid, huh?" She asked conversationally, "The family resemblance in the armor is pretty neat."

Sarge scoffed, "Still not sure why you'd want any kind of armor made out of completely blue shades." He muttered with a slight smirk as he shrugged, "But, whatever floats their boats. I guess."

Tex had been turning to leave just then, having apparently decided that her part in the conversation was over with following Four Seven Niner's introduction. She paused in mid-step however, to tilt her head questioningly in Kimball's direction once more, "Is Doctor Grey at the clinic area now?"

Kimball nodded, "As far as I know. Why?"

Tex motioned with a jerk of her thumb in Tucker's direction, "That idiot got himself shot in the leg earlier." She stated, causing Kimball to remember her earlier observation of Tucker limping, "Washington treated it decently enough when it happened, but he should still get it looked over."

That was an assessment she could agree with. Kimball turned to glance towards Tucker once more. He had definitely been walking slower when he had first come in, and had even been leaning on Agent Washington at the time. But, reuniting with Junior had apparently caused the injury to completely escape his mind for the time being. Not that she could really blame him given how tense the separation had been for him.

"I promised the worrywart that I would get her to examine Tucker as soon as we got back to the bunker." Tex was glancing over at Washington with what was no doubt probably a whole lot of amusement underneath her helmet, "Probably should just get it over with now."

"Thank you, Tex." Kimball stated quietly, grateful as well that the former Freelancer had volunteered to do so in the first place.

With that, Tex was gone, leaving Four Seven Niner standing there with Sarge and her along with the gold-trimmed blonde who hadn't been introduced yet. The pilot already looked a bit bored, quickly turning her attention to the goings-on elsewhere in that area of the bunker, apparently not quite in the mood for chit-chat with people she had only just met.

The middle-aged man standing awkwardly nearby seemed to still be more than just a little overwhelmed by everything, his face ashen enough at the moment to make one think there was a possibility he could faint if particularly startled by some huge shock.

Kimball cleared her throat to catch his attention, "I'm sorry, but you are?"

However, the man was suddenly staring past her. Instead, he was currently gaping at Sarge. The older Resistance fighter now apparently also regarding the stranger with an almost equal amount of disbelief crossing over his features.

"S—Sarge?" The person finally said, an obvious accent to his voice, "I don't believe it! You're with the Resistance now, of all things?"

"I honestly can't believe you haven't gotten shot yet, Doyle." Sarge was chuckling even as he spoke, shaking his head, "Did you think I had finally retired all these years or something?"

"W—well, you did have a lot of unused vacation time." The man Sarge named as Doyle replied.

The former Above Grounder sighed, "I remember. You kept hounding me about how I was going to have to take a whole year off or some shit or else I'd lose it."

Clearly, the two had some kind of familiarity with one another during Sarge's Above Ground days given this conversation.

Despite the anecdotal humor this topic seemed to have given the brief glimpse of relief flashing through Doyle's eyes, one look around the space they were currently standing in was enough to bring him fully back into the present.

He sighed and slumped his shoulders at the same time, "I am desperately wishing I had taken my own advice and used mine when I had the chance."

Sarge clapped the Above Grounder on the back in what was probably meant to be a sympathetic gesture, though he apparently had caught the other off-guard as he jumped slightly at the contact and had to do an odd skip-step to stay standing upright.

The older man turned to Kimball, and his face had a more serious look to it than the one he had been wearing a second ago, "The three of us should probably talk somewhere private, now that we know what was going on here."

She caught on to what the leader of Red Team was really trying to say easily enough. Whoever this Doyle person was, he was most likely more than just a mere acquaintance from Sarge's past. Someone from Above Ground administration then, given his comments on knowing about acquired vacation time and the like? How Tucker and company had happened upon him was also a mystery.

She gave a slight nod to Sarge's suggestion, distancing herself for the moment from the good news the last few events had brought up as the more dire situation they were still dealing with came back into focus with sharp clarity.

Moments like this were excellent for providing hope when it was needed, but they also further reminded her why it was important to focus on making sure they would get the chance to have more of them later on.

---

It was probably a very long time before Grif was really with it enough to be exceedingly aware of, well, anything.

He was fairly certain he was unconscious a lot of the time, or drifting always quite near it. Perhaps most of the time the Slums dweller had been on the verge of being awake, but always just a moment away from slipping back into not being so.

Kind of like that time when Kai had gotten that really bad cough and fever after they'd been forced to move to Low Town. She had been stuck in bed for days, sweaty and mumbling incoherently. Even when Kai had her eyes open back then they were glassy, and he had known she hadn't seen him hovering there like an unhelpful idiot because she would always call out for their mom instead even though she knew as well as he did by then that there was no fucking way she would have been there.

Come to think of it, and Grif knew that he still wasn't in a fully awake state of mind because this was some random ass shit to be thinking about, that was around the first time he had really met Tucker and his mom too.

Apparently word had somehow gone through the apartment building that one of the kids living there on their own was in a bad way, and Tucker's mom had pretty much forced her way inside with her son in tow to check up on them. Kai had recovered faster under Tucker's mom's more knowledgeable supervision. Apparently, Tucker had been rather sickly as a baby, which he was quick to get embarrassed about whenever his mother brought it up.

That encounter had pretty much given the two Grif siblings a friend-for-life in Tucker. Tucker's mom had been such a nice lady, and the closest thing Grif and Kai had had to a mom as well in Low Town. What had happened to her was more than just awful.

Grif absentmindedly wondered if it was some kind of sign that he had thought about her even more now than usual. He missed her truly, but he wasn't sure he was ready to see her again just yet.

Dexter Grif wasn't really sure of too much at all after a point. Honestly, maybe the poor imitation of Felix had finally just pushed too far with his carving attempts and Grif wasn't going to snap back into reality anytime soon.

He recalled blackness, red, something flashing, always more red. Failing that, he lived in weird dreams and nightmares. Saw twisted memories of things he didn't think had actually happened, but still felt pretty brutally real all the same.

All he really knew was that there was always pain throughout the whole fucking thing. Either so much that if he could have, he would have screamed. He probably did, in fact. He got numb to even that after a while. The pain always lingering in the background in a teasing 'don't think you'll get through this!' sort of way.

Later on, intermittently through the pain, Grif did find odd, almost jarringly so, moments where he didn't feel much of anything. Numb, but almost like floating too in a way.

Sometimes, when he tried opening his eyes he could make out blurry shapes and an unfamiliar room. It was no longer the plain space with too much red everywhere, thankfully.

He could vaguely hear familiar voices that weren't belonging to murderous assholes talking softly nearby, but too indistinct to make out who they belonged to. On occasion, there were touches too that were always followed with a burst of agony unless he was feeling particular float-y when they happened. Still, the touches were light and hesitant, but with purpose.

There was even a familiar grip on his hand for what felt like hours on end. Grif couldn't place why it was as comforting as it was, but during those moments it was probably his favorite damn contact in the whole world. He even managed to weakly grip tighter a few times when they would pull away as if to leave, just to keep the warm pressure lingering there a bit longer. Even the nightmares didn't seem as bad then, drifting into unaltered memories if the contact stayed long enough.

But, honestly? Even in those more 'lucid' moments, he just wanted to sleep. He'd never been one to try to fight the urge to nap before, and it seemed like a pretty impossible task to do so now. His whole being craved it, and he wouldn't have been surprised to have learned later on if even those odd pseudo-waking moments he had that felt like hours at the time they occurred were probably only mere seconds at best. Glimpses he'd never catch the full story of, his body far too exhausted and hurt to really care.

For all he knew, he had never actually left that plain space and he was just slowly bleeding out, hallucinating massively as a result. It wasn't a pleasant possibility, so he tried not to focus on it. Best to just sleep, to listen to the soothing voices and let the floating sensation take him away.

Given that, Grif definitely did know when it was he actually had officially woken up. Mostly because there was a world of difference between the two states.

Firstly, fully waking up helped the fog dissipate from his mind. He was suddenly very much awake, and he fucking hurt. Pretty much everywhere, honestly. Which was fairly par the course for what he remembered the last time he'd been more or less conscious. This whole experience further showcased to him why waking up was fucking awful when you were in a deep sleep. He would have to remember to hide a lot better if he ever got the chance to have a good nap after dinner again just to avoid it.

Secondly, he was now very much aware that he was, in fact, not in that torture room at all anymore. There had not been beige paint on the ceiling there, nor antique furniture that probably cost more than his whole fucking apartment had. There certainly hadn't been a bed in that place. Even if there had been, his torturers would have probably slept in it themselves just to be mocking assholes instead of laying him on it like he was currently.

Grif was slowly processing these things as he was just coming out of a deep, deep sleep after all, so he hadn't yet noticed the purple-armored brunette that had been standing at his bedside. At least not until the glasses-wearing man in question leaned directly over Grif's face as if to make sure that the Resistance fighter really was in fact staring around awake. A needle in the man's hand was hovering there as well.

The surprise up-close face-to-face when his brain wasn't yet ready for it, and the needle in view caused a sudden quickening of Grif's heart and he tried shifting away with a startled cry-moan pathetically coming out of his scratchy throat. Suddenly he envisioned a flash of metal, much thicker and wider, slicing down and up in arcs everywhere.

The movement did not agree with his body, and there were white splotches filling his vision. Oh, man, did he want to scream—

"Oh, sorry about that, Grif!" The man winced at the grimace suddenly overtaking Grif's face himself, apology sincere as the medical needle disappeared from view and he rested a gentle hand on Grif's shoulder to halt his movement all the while careful not to press too hard, "I just wasn't sure if you were awake or not. You've been out of it for awhile."

A second later he recognized the friendly face as belonging to Doc, one of Simmons' teammates. The pink glasses, though, were new from the last time he had seen him, and absentmindedly caused Grif to be reminded of Donut.

"D—Doc?" Grif blinked, mind still sluggish and everything very much hurting though it was sort of getting hazy again now. It didn't take him too long to figure out that the empty shot Doc had been holding before was probably some kind of very potent painkiller, "Where…? What…?"

His eyes were darting around, trying to take in everything and his voice kept trailing off as a result. Were they safe? Was this some really bizarre trick or—?

"It's all right, Grif." Doc seemed to understand his panic even though he really wasn't doing a good job voicing it just then, his tone soothing, "We got you out. You still need a bit more recuperating time, though."

From how the tan man felt, that was probably a major understatement. But perhaps the medic just liked being overly optimistic, given his usual cheerful personality.

One question answered then. At least Grif felt minimally more relaxed. That or those painkillers were kicking in really quick because, fuck it, he was feeling sleepy again.

"You've been unconscious for a few days now." Doc continued, seeming to debate in his head exactly how much he should be telling Grif as he was talking, "You were in a really bad shape, so we couldn't move you to the Resistance hideout."

He sort of had figured that much out already, "So, where—?"

Doc turned his head away then, looking at something or someone slightly out of view questioningly.

Grif managed, with extreme effort, to get his eyes to focus past the foot of the bed. His voice becoming useless in his throat when he saw the person standing hesitatingly in the doorway because, fuck it again, they always seemed to have the worst timed meet-ups.

Simmons was wringing his hands together, looking oddly timid under Grif's gaze, "Th—this is my house, Grif." He said haltingly, in way of explanation.

Just as the remark of "Shit, house? You must be loaded, Simmons!" died on his lips because he really didn't have enough energy to vocalize an exclamation yet, Simmons elaborated as if the Slums dweller had anyways, "I—I mean, it's my parents'! But my dad stopped living here years ago."

"It was the closest place we could move you to." Doc elaborated further as Simmons came into the room.

The cyborg stopped in front of a chair that had been pulled up to Grif's bedside, eyes automatically moving from the myriad questions in Grif's brown eyes down to his hand, the redhead's own twitching forward before he pulled it back awkwardly. Grif thought of the warm grip from the recent past that he could still remember fairly well, feeling oddly upset at Simmons for stopping.

He felt hazy again, and knew he probably wasn't going to be awake for much longer. In all honesty, it was probably a good sign that he had gotten this far.

Because of that haze, Grif couldn't help but ask quickly, "The others?"

Had Bitters and Matthews actually made it okay after all of that shit? Had Kai, Tucker, or any of the other Resistance fighters gotten caught as well?

He'd been pretty much out of the loop once he'd gotten caught by Felix, after all. He didn't know what had happened to everyone else after that. Though he'd sort of suspected if they had been captured, Felix or one of the other mercenaries probably would have enjoyed rubbing it in his face during one of his torture sessions. So many of those nightmares had been about the alternative that…

Simmons seemed to follow his train of thought, "They're okay, Grif." He assured him.

That would have to do for now, Grif supposed. He knew Simmons would have probably visibly shown it if he was hiding something major from him in terms of body language cues since he sucked at lying, "What about…the bomb?"

"We…" Simmons paused, "We still don't know where it is, but we're looking for it. It won't be much longer."

There had definitely been a moment's hesitation in the Above Grounder's reply. Even Doc looked at Simmons questioningly then, though he said nothing.

Maybe Simmons hadn't thought whatever was going on with that search yet was something Grif needed to know about. The Above Grounder probably felt bad that he didn't have any good news on that front. But, that would most likely have to wait to be confirmed later.

At least the situation didn't seem to be any direr than it had been before from what he could tell given the two men's reactions to his question. Seemed to still be the same level of suck as always. At least as far as Simmons seemed to know, Kai and the others were all right.

He felt his eyes tearing up slightly, but his arms hurt too much to try to wipe at them which just made it irritatingly worse, "T—thanks."

"No problem!" Doc stated happily, nodding with a smile, "I'll go get you some orange juice."

Grif couldn't help but smile slightly considering how that inadvertently brought up recollections of Caboose's declaration of the beverage being his favorite drink before, or how Sarge would usually use it as some kind of symbolic threat to his person.

Oddly enough, it was good to know they were okay too so far.

Simmons gave him a small, wavering smile and nearly reached for his hand again before annoyingly pulling away once more, "Try to get some more rest, Grif."

His eyes were drooping closed even before the words had left his friend's mouth completely. Grif was still incredibly anxious and hurting, but feeling more relieved than he had in a long while.

Hopefully this nap would be a better one.

---

The door closed behind him softly and Simmons had to resist the urge to immediately open it again, just to make sure that Grif was still sleeping. His hand was still resting by the panel even, damn it!

Grif had woken up, fully and completely, for the first time since they had brought the Resistance fighter here to Simmons' home and set him up in his mother's room. In a way, Simmons was upset that Grif had done so just after Doc had given him another dose of painkillers, but he also knew there'd be time for talking later.

After all, the Slums resident finally waking up was a pretty good sign as far as his recovery in general was concerned. It was for the best right now to let Grif rest as much as he could whenever possible, no matter how badly Simmons wanted him to do the opposite.

So, the cyborg finally tore his hand away from the door. Instead, he turned to face Doc, who had currently been regarding the redhead rather thoughtfully.

At length, his friend smiled, "It's good that he's woken up, Simmons."

The Above Grounder couldn't help but smile back then, his organic eye misting and his cybernetic one stinging as a result of that same urge, "I—I know, Doc."

"Though he probably shouldn't be moving around too much for some time yet." The medic reminded him.

The cyborg's shoulders slumped slightly, knowing exactly what Doc meant by that statement. Grif had been cut, shocked, and beaten over an extended period of time. Those types of constant and serious injuries would take time to heal, even with current medical technology being what it was.

Perhaps it would have been less if they could have taken him to a proper hospital or medical facility, but they had to make do with the medical technology they had at their disposal currently given the situation. A few more days rest at the very least would do wonders for not jostling Grif's lacerations to the point where they reopened again, if nothing else.

Truthfully, they had been some of his worst injuries. A crisscross patchwork of cuts that were going to scar over like some twisted puzzle. A constant reminder for Grif to carry of what had happened. Many of the burns would leave permanent etchings too, but at least there were some of those that would only be temporary and they weren't nearly covering every inch of his body like the cuts were

That asshole with the knife had gotten off way too easy with just the one bullet Carolina had put into him.

"I…I know that too, Doc." Simmons told him with a sigh.

Doc was assessing him with a knowing look, "Is that why you told him we still didn't know the relic's location?"

His tone wasn't accusatory. More sympathetic and understanding really, but even so Simmons couldn't help but flinch at the medic's question regarding his lie of omission to Grif. The cyborg had felt bad about covering up that three days ago the location of the alien relic had finally been found and that now, as a result, the next strategy was being planned out.

There was even more of a sense of urgency now in particular since the Council Chairman had announced preparation for a very "special event" that was about to occur. No guess was needed to recognize that that meant the final stages of his coup were about to be put into place.

But, at the same time?

"If Grif knew, he would try to do something stubborn and stupid." Simmons remarked honestly, "And if he did that, he could…"

Make his injuries even worse, or get killed as a direct result of them. The redhead had no doubt that if Grif knew what was going on with the Resistance, he'd insist on going and in his condition that could only end badly.

Simmons didn't want that to happen. He couldn't let that happen. Not after so many people had risked their lives to get Grif back. Not while they were on the verge of fucking losing everything.

Doc patted his shoulder consolingly, effectively cutting off his troubled thoughts for the moment.

"It's all right, Simmons. I understand." He told him gently, though he added a second later, "You'll have to tell Grif sooner or later, but you're right. Since he just woke up, his recovery should take top priority."

The maroon-armored soldier let out a shaky breath just then, looking at his friend gratefully, "Thanks, Doc."

Doc smiled back, "You're welcome!" He tilted his head questioningly, "Want some orange juice too?"

At least the medic wasn't trying to actively pour it onto open wounds anymore.

For once, Simmons wasn't bewildered by Doc's insistence on orange juice as a magical cure-all because his throat was still horribly dry as it was. Besides, busying himself with any kind of task, even if it was just something simple like drinking a beverage, would hopefully help the redhead sort out just what he would say the next time Grif was awake.

Simmons had a sneaking suspicion that no matter how much he prepared for that conversation in his head, he would still end up being a nervous wreck though.

Somehow, despite the self-loathing that sort of thought usually brought up in him, the cyborg couldn't help but smile slightly. At least he still had the opportunity to talk to Grif, and he was more grateful for that than he could probably ever put into words.

Simmons wiped his hand over his eyes hastily again as he nodded in response to Doc's question.

---

"So, did you hear?"

Bitters glared angrily at Palomo as the other young man hung upside down off of his cot, grinning at him.

The lieutenant was rather glad that Doctor Grey had finally given him the okay to move around, as he was fairly certain that if she hadn't he would still be in bed under a threat of extra sharp needles the next time he needed an injection. Plus, Palomo would have landed right on top of him when he vault-jumped onto the cot and flipped over into his current position.

Just like back when they had been kids and his constant sleepovers pretty much meant that Bitters and his younger siblings always had a permanent extra roommate.

Seriously, that had hurt enough when they were kids given the other boy's tendency to somehow always land on his elbows. Bitters had even started rumors that he had gotten beaten up by older kids just to make himself seem more intimidating. Admitting you got accidentally hit in the eye just because your friend couldn't check to see if someone was still sleeping or not before doing a cannon dive onto a mattress was way too embarrassing.

Palomo hadn't even bothered taking off his aqua-trimmed armor this time around, so it would have been even worse than that.

"Heard about what, exactly?"

Currently Bitters was alternating between wanting to glare some more at his friend, both for the bursting-in-to-jump-on-his-cot action and for throwing his boots at his head as he did so, and trying to peer inside said boots just to make sure that Palomo hadn't stuck anything weird in them.

He was honestly still trying to figure out why the other young man had thought storing empty pudding cups in shoes when growing up had been such a brilliant idea.

"Oh, come on! You already know!" Palomo pouted up at him, brown eyes accusing.

Bitters sighed, already having a pretty good idea as to what Palomo was referring to. Yes, given that, he already knew about it due to the major commotions that had been happening throughout the bunker. News traveled fast amongst anxious, nervous people desperate for any kind of information.

"If you already suspected that I knew, why ask the fucking question in the first place?"

Palomo scoffed, "Because it's more fun that way." He rolled his eyes to add emphasis to how silly Bitters was for having not gotten that, "Obviously."

His childhood friend sat up on the cot with his legs swinging over the side, absentmindedly kicking them up in the air. Bitters was torn between twitching an eye in annoyance or sighing in exasperation whenever the private's feet hit the ground as he'd constantly wince with the motion. The cot was way too low to the ground for most people to keep doing that.

"You mean like how it was more fun when you told me to 'suck it!' because I couldn't go on that rescue mission all of you morons went on?" Bitters asked, raising a brown eyebrow.

"Well, weren't you glad it all turned out okay?" Palomo reasoned, apparently not picking up on the sharper tone that had crept into Bitters' voice at his last remark.

For starters, the 'suck it' commentary hadn't really been necessary in the slightest. Honestly, Bitters had long since accepted that Palomo was just frustratingly idiotic when it came to what he considered to be perfectly good pep talks.

"That's beside the point, fuck face!"

Yeah, Bitters was glad that things had worked out regarding the rescue mission. Well, worked out as far as they could tell currently.

Junior was back safe and sound, at least physically. That was pretty great news in and of itself, although Kaikaina had remarked that the little kid had been noticeably clingier since coming back.

Hell, he'd even stayed with Bitters on occasion when everyone else was busy, and Bitters knew he wasn't exactly a joy to be around nowadays in particular. So that was probably saying something given that the boy was understandably a little apprehensive about the makeshift clinic given what he had gone through besides.

Not only that, but the Resistance actually got an air transport in the bargain thanks to some kickass former Freelancers and one way too crazy gun-loving sergeant.

They even received word that, while he apparently couldn't be brought back here yet due to all of the recent events happening in the area, Captain Grif wasn't in Above Ground military custody anymore. Which also meant that he wasn't dead either. Bitters damn well thought that Matthews nearly fainted at that particular news.

Plus, none of his idiot friends or their apparently equally suicidal superiors had gotten killed either. By all accounts, he should have been pleasantly surprised, relieved, and happy even at the news. Truthfully? He was in a lot of ways.

But, he was also just fucking pissed too!

Pissed because Captain Tucker had come up with the whole thing. If he hadn't just come back like he had, which he was fairly certain now was Palomo's news, then Junior would have been left an orphan and they would have been down two captains since Captain Caboose had been with him as well.

Pissed because anything and everything could have gone wrong during the mission. If it had? A lot of people that he had come to care for, however begrudgingly, could have died as a result. Annoying as he often was, Palomo was pretty much family now for all intents and purposes or, at any rate, the closest thing Bitters had left to one. The lieutenant was even slowly starting to view the other new recruits and the more experienced eccentric members of the Red and Blue Teams the same way.

Bitters thought of the silly 'Get Well' card that Captain Donut had made all of them sign for him, and sighed. It was tucked away in a safe spot even though he would never admit he had held onto the damn thing.

Honestly, in a way, he was grateful that all of the rescue mission shit had gone down when Doctor Grey had been keeping Matthews from active duty. Otherwise, Bitters suspected the suck-up would have immediately gone on the mission with Captain Tucker if he had gotten wind of it.

As it stood, his teammate had very nearly tried going along with Kaikaina and Volleyball when they had decided to take part in Sarge's impromptu mission, which was pretty much the main reason why he hadn't seen Matthews at all in recent days. Which was something else that upset him, but Bitters really didn't want to dwell on it or think too much on why just yet.

Of course, Bitters was still more pissed off at himself than anything else.

If he hadn't gotten fucking injured like he had when they'd first arrived topside, one aspect of the rescue mission at least would have become completely irrelevant. If Bitters hadn't been fucking injured and on goddamned bed rest, he would have been out there potentially getting killed or shot at for what was partially his mistake instead of one of his friends.

A lot of the time, it was just fucking easier to deal with the anger now than facing his regrets and worries. It seemed even good news could potentially bring his anger out. Maybe Palomo had been right about his name with his lame-ass joke about how Bitters was just naturally always going to be "bitter."

"Oh, I bet you're just jealous that you didn't get to see the reunions." Palomo interjected with a knowing, sage-like nod.

"You mean with Captain Tucker and Junior?" Bitters asked.

The dark-skinned young man seemed to have apparently decided that this was in fact the reasoning behind Bitters' most recent outburst, informing him: "Agent North Dakota reunited with his A.I. kid too!"

Palomo was beaming at the news despite how neither of them had personally known North's A.I. partner Theta beforehand like they had known Junior. Though, given how North was such a friendly guy who pretty much everyone in the Resistance liked, it was easy enough to be happy for him in this circumstance.

The private continued on, adding a sympathetic, "It's okay though, Bitters. I just heard about it later from Andersmith myself so we're in the same boat there." He gestured to the boots that Bitters had just pulled on as they were talking, "I had to get those for you. You know, once I remembered where they were and all!"

He was fairly certain asking Palomo as he laughed at whatever odd recollection that was bringing up to himself why the aqua-trimmed fighter hadn't just stored said boots in an obvious place when Doctor Grey had given them to him to blackmail Bitters with earlier, such as his storage locker, would lead to even more eye-twitching.

Still, he was inwardly grateful that the doctor had allowed Palomo to give Bitters back his boots in the first place. Doctor Grey had certainly helped him recover, yes, but he didn't really want to stick around her place of business any longer than necessary due to her less than typical bedside manner.

"We can say hello later though!" Palomo assured his friend with a nod once he had stopped laughing, explaining, "Captain Donut says he wants to have a little bit of a celebration with everyone before the big operation anyways. For both the plan being successful and for you getting back to duty too!"

Bitters frowned, not really sure that last one in particular was anything worth celebrating considering what his mistake had nearly cost.

But, given the oddly hopeful look in Palomo's eyes, he sighed, "Well, I guess it's good to have one more positive thing happen before we all get blown up."

Besides, he knew that was more than likely also a very large factor in the pink-armored Captain Donut's reasoning for wanting a celebration party of sorts. Who knew if they would even have any sort of opportunity for another one beyond now given what they were going up against?

Palomo nodded his head in quick agreement before a curious look flashed over his features as if he had just realized something he maybe should have earlier, "I'm surprised Matthews didn't stop by again to see you out of the clinic."

They were just then at the door to the exit, and despite wanting to get the hell out of there before the good-but-crazy-as-fuck doctor changed her mind, Bitters paused at the mention of his teammate.

Palomo, surprisingly observant at the worst possible times it seemed, looked at him critically then, "Did you do something?"

That was a loaded question.

On one hand, things had been awkward since he had practically forced Matthews to lay on the cot with him awhile back. The whole thing had been made about ten times worse when Doctor Grey apparently found them both asleep hours later. They had woken up to a safe sex pamphlet along with a box of condoms and a tube of lube resting close by. She gave them her cheerful reassurances later that if they had any questions they shouldn't be afraid to ask.

Her "I'd just wait until Bitters has healed up more to get really hot and heavy if I were you!" comment had nearly caused the auburn-haired Matthews to pass out on the spot.

Despite all of that though, Bitters had been surprised to find that the other lieutenant would still visit and sit with him frequently afterwards. In fact, he had even been both thankful and relieved. Bitters would have probably made even more of a mess of things if he'd somehow fucked up a dynamic that he'd gotten used to and comfortable with since joining the Resistance.

Things between the two of them had gotten considerably worse though when they had found out about the rescue plan. Matthews had admitted to thinking about possibly joining Kaikaina and Volleyball despite Doctor Grey's advice that the lieutenant refrain from stressful physical activity for a little longer.

It had turned into a yelling match with Bitters calling him a kiss-ass idiot and threatening to tie Matthews to the cot if he was really that moronic. Which, in turn, had brought down onto him alone the wrath of Doctor Grey since she had shown up just at his shouting. That incident ended with her promising that Bitters would be getting a tranquilizer in a very specific area of his body if he continued on disturbing her other patients.

Matthews at first had shouted back just as much as Bitters had during that particular exchange, only to grow quieter the more berserk Bitters got until he started to look like a petulant child stewing over a particularly nasty scolding. Afterwards, the younger man had pretty much run from the scene red-faced both from anger and crying.

Thankfully though, from Bitters' perspective, their argument had run into the prepping time Sarge and the others had allotted for themselves. So, the rescue mission had already been put into motion without Matthews getting the chance to sign up for the potential idiocy too.

Honestly, Bitters had felt rather awful about that. His own anger and frustration at his inability to act as well as his concern for his friends had just sort of exploded out when Matthews confided in him.

The Slums dweller hadn't thought any part of the rescue mission was a really good idea, and Bitters still stood by his not having wanted the other lieutenant to participate. Truthfully, he would have told any of the other lieutenants similarly had they at all deigned to actually discuss their plans with him too. But, Bitters more than likely could've handled it a hell of a lot better than he had.

He had wanted to apologize to his teammate for a lot of things afterwards. Naturally though, Matthews had used getting back on full-duty as an excuse to devote his time to busywork, ass-kissing, and just in general avoiding Bitters. The auburn-haired fighter was more than likely still upset himself, and just hoping to avoid another massive confrontation with his roommate over the matter.

It wasn't as if Bitters couldn't understand that, but it also made him hesitant to even try tracking the other lieutenant down. He honestly wasn't sure how he'd react if Matthews was still as angry or upset with him as he had been back then.

Bitters didn't want confirmation that he had fucked things up too much this time.

"Hey, it'll be okay!" Palomo apparently noticed the odd grimace and slight shudder that went through Bitters, and he patted his shoulder encouragingly, "If you apologize, Matthews will probably be okay with it!"

"Really? What makes you think that?" Bitters didn't want to get too hopeful or optimistic about any kind of advice from Palomo given his friend's usual track record with that sort of thing.

The private grinned conspiratorially, "Well," Palomo told Bitters in a comical stage-whisper while shrugging, "He's been wanting me to keep checking in on you since we've gotten back. I really don't think Matthews would care either way if he was done worrying about you."

Oddly enough, hearing that made Bitters both regretful (yeah, he really should go and fucking apologize soon then) and hopeful (maybe he could still salvage it), "Thanks, Palomo."

"Oh, and if you two decide to finally go all the way?" Palomo winked suggestively just then, "Well, Doctor Grey gave Kaikaina and me pamphlets to pass around!"

That was it.

If they didn't all die in the next couple of days, Bitters was seriously going to find himself a new group of friends.

---

"Well, on the plus side? Since the bullet went clean through and someone did a decent job on the first aid right afterwards, you probably won't get any horrible infections or lose the leg!"

Tucker raised an eyebrow at the odd flicker of disappointment he saw in the doctor's eyes at her comment, though it was quickly covered up with her usual way-too-eerily-cheerful voice and eager smile whenever she happened to be discussing what she considered to be fascinating medical issues.

"You seem both relieved and bored at what sounds like pretty good news to me, Doctor Grey." He told her, which was honestly a rather impressive combination of traits to get your vocal chords to agree on simultaneously.

Junior was still clutching onto his uninjured leg as he had been the entire time the purple-trimmed medical expert was finishing her examination of his earlier wound, his head turning slightly in both adults' directions every so often as he tried keeping intense focus on their conversation fluttering overhead.

"Oh, well, you know, it's great that it has healed so well and everything, but nicely healing injuries don't make for very exciting stories." The dark-haired woman shrugged indifferently at his comment, the smile still plastered on her face, "I personally find it to be a more interesting job when things are pretty dicey in that department!"

Yep, and it was comments like that which kept Tucker from really trying to talk to Doctor Emily Grey about anything personal. Or, for that matter, for longer than was absolutely necessary in any given situation.

His son had reached over from his grip on his knee to tug at his hand. The man glanced down at the alien child, noting for not the first time just how nervous he seemed to be despite his understandable refusal to leave Tucker's side. Junior's eyes were now darting around the infirmary as if expecting something to jump at him from behind a supply crate or one of the patient partitions that had been set up to keep the occupied cots from view.

The Resistance fighter couldn't help but wince at his son's actions despite knowing full well that the check-up had been a good idea. Besides, a certain pushy Freelancer dick had insisted that he do it. Washington had somehow even managed to get the scary crazy-ass cybernetic shark lady convinced it was necessary too, so by that point Tucker really hadn't had much of a choice in the matter.

Still, that didn't mean he didn't feel horribly guilty at bringing his son along with him considering that Junior had most likely seen enough of places like this recently.

Doctor Grey seemed to pick up on the gesture, smiling at Junior in a way that was oddly non-disconcerting for the Above Grounder and downright gentle. Which, truthfully, sort of freaked Tucker out more. But, he wasn't going to let his kid or her know that.

"It's basically close to being completely healed," Doctor Grey informed him kindly, "I would just try to not run any marathons for the next few days. Oh, and you might want to resist the urge to poke it with anything sharp and dirty."

That last comment was met with yet another eyebrow raise from the teal-armored soldier, which seemed to be a pretty natural occurrence in most of his interactions with the doctor, "How many patients have you actually had to tell that to?"

"You'd be surprised!" She shot a sympathetic glance at Junior then, "I think you should be extra cautious though, since it might be in your best interest to avoid coming here too often in the future."

"Yeah," Tucker agreed, knowing she meant that Junior would no doubt be a shadow for quite awhile when it came to his dad, and vice-versa really as he didn't want to part ways with his son just yet for too long either, "He doesn't have a lot of fondness for clinics right now."

His grip on Junior's shoulder tightened slightly, and when the boy looked up at him with a questioning "Honk?" Tucker smiled reassuringly.

Trying not to get started on yet another panicked thought process about how he had failed as a dad or something right about now would be great, especially since they weren't sure how much time the Resistance had before shit hit the fan again.

"He seems to be the picture of perfect health for his species. In case you were wondering." Grey remarked conversationally, having stayed quiet a few moments as she watched their familial exchange but apparently feeling the pressing need to assure Tucker, "I don't think they physically hurt him too much while he was in Above Ground custody."

The Slums dweller stared at her in surprise, "Junior let you examine him?"

The dark-skinned woman smiled, "Well, it was a precursory observation with him clinging to C.T. the whole time in the mess hall," she conceded, "But, given what he had been through, that was downright trusting for him."

Doctor Grey continued before he could ask any of the myriad of questions that had obviously started flittering across his eyes, quickly holding up her hand up to let him know she wanted to keep talking, "I got a good enough look to be able to tell that he's in good health, at least."

"Damn straight!" Tucker grinned, figuring any other concerns he might have about her observations could wait perhaps until Junior was resting or something, "That's because we're fucking awesome. Right, kid?"

Despite his fatherly concern, Tucker didn't really want to inadvertently cause his son to relive bad memories by asking the doctor any loaded questions in front of him, so he winked at Junior conspiratorially instead.

Junior nodded right back quite emphatically, his obvious nervousness at the clinic setting around them dissipating in light of the praise he had just received, "Blargh!"

"I think it would be a good idea just to stay with him and observe, just in case there are any lingering issues." The doctor explained softly, and he knew she had been attempting to soften some serious 'there is more than likely a lot of trauma below the surface' talk.

Tucker nodded, rather grateful for her surprising tact and gentleness towards Junior, "No need to tell me twice." He assured her, as he honestly wasn't planning on staying too long away from his son for quite some time anyways, "Thanks, Doctor."

"You're welcome!" Doctor Grey was grinning again, "But, if he feels up for it later on, I'd love to be the doctor who does his physicals in the future! Aliens are fascinating!"

At which point his son decided it was apparently a good time to use his take on Tucker's catchphrase, innocently enough: "Bow-chicka-honk-honk!"

"We'll have to see on that one, I guess." Tucker said noncommittally in response to her comment, deciding it was probably for the best to ignore Junior's remark for the moment and the subsequent amused eyebrow raise Doctor Grey had given in response.

Geez, he would definitely need to have "the talk" with Junior sooner rather than later, it seemed. It was rather humorous that he'd been worried about possibly having to do so with Theta in North's stead not too long ago, now that he thought about it.

Tucker would give Junior "the talk" along with his special patented "never put your dick in crazy" one. Which he hoped would go over better than it had with Caboose earlier as the Resistance fighter had a feeling he had just made his younger teammate more confused than anything else. Not that that was really hard to do considering that Caboose would get confused even when talking about something simple like food choices, but still.

The Slums resident stood up then, careful not to put too much pressure on his injured leg in the process, "So, with a little rest I should be good, huh?"

The doctor nodded, "More than likely."

"Now I can tell that asshole Washington so he can quit nagging me!" Tucker grinned at the prospect.

Of course, he would have to find the blonde first.

For being such a pushy jerk about Tucker seeing the doctor sooner rather than later, Washington had disappeared after practically shoving Tucker and Junior in front of Doctor Grey earlier. He'd left with a rather amused-looking C.T., who seemed to be trying to hold back a really large amount of laughter at how pushy her former teammate had been over the whole thing. No doubt the two of them went off to discuss super-secret Freelancer stuff.

The joke was on Washington though. Since she was a member of Blue Team now, Tucker could probably get C.T. to talk about their conversation later if he whined enough. Some people considered that annoying, but Tucker liked to look at it as being part of his charm.

Given how adamant Washington had been about the whole thing, you would have thought he'd been the one shot and nearly killed by two psychotic mercenaries.

Tucker figured this trip to the clinic would at least calm him down. Hopefully, the Freelancer wouldn't be so anal that he'd need an actual doctor's note or something to believe him. Knowing the overly-cautious Above Grounder though? Tucker honestly wouldn't be surprised if he did ask for one.

It wasn't like Tucker was going to use it as an excuse to talk to the man or anything further, like maybe gauge his reaction or some other crap like that. Nope, not at all.

Doctor Grey was multi-tasking and looking over several patient charts at once following their conversation, so she sent father and son on their way then with a cheery, preoccupied wave and about fifty lollipops. Some of which were obviously meant for Junior, while the rest were no doubt for Caboose.

Junior was licking one now with marked interest, having long since before realized that swallowing the candy whole was not the best way to enjoy the treat. Tucker had panicked that first time when Junior had swallowed the stick and wrapper along with the candy. He even ended up getting Grif to teach him the Heimlich afterwards, just in case.

Tucker was grateful that, for the most part, his son had more self-control when it came to sweet food than his teammate did. He was already fairly certain he'd have to hide most of the candy from Caboose in order to avoid him getting a stomachache later. Tucker had learned that the hard way after the last lollipop stash he had gotten from Grey. The doctor was definitely spoiling the guy.

Tucker had last seen his Blue Team teammate talking Donut and Andersmith's ears off when Washington had begun practically shoving him away from the gathered group of comrades earlier to get him to the clinic. Who knew where the blonde could have wandered off to by now?

"Hey, ass-face!"

Tucker grimaced at the sound of Kai's familiar voice shouting at him from further down the hallway. Oblivious to his father's reaction since it was pretty obvious given her pointed glare that her comment wasn't directed towards him, Junior waved excitedly at the tan girl while the older man froze in his tracks.

Yeah, the Slums dweller probably should have figured this would happen the second word traveled around the bunker that he was back. Tucker waved nervously, taking a small step behind his son. Kai liked Junior, so she wasn't going to plow him over just to get at his father even if she was pissed off. Probably.

"Hey, Kai!" Tucker forced a smile into his voice and somehow managed to keep it steady and confident-sounding despite knowing that it wasn't too good to be on her bad side, "I'm back."

Kai stomped over towards them, the expression in her dark eyes absolutely murderous, "Don't 'I'm back' me, you fucking jerk!" She shouted, stabbing a finger into his shoulder to emphasize her point, "What was the big idea of you going off and playing hero without telling me?"

Truthfully, years of being childhood friends taught him that there was no real way to get Kai to calm down if she was really angry at you. Tucker had learned the hard way it was better to just let her have her outburst and try to survive it as best you could, since once she let it out she tended to get over things quickly enough.

"Er…" Tucker's mind was drawing a blank as to what would be the best response to go with, so he ended up winging it, "I was trying not to get you fucking pissed off?"

That comment sounded so ridiculous given everything that it honestly gave the young woman a momentary pause to process it, though her narrowed eyes made it pretty clear what she thought of his explanation.

"Well, that didn't work, did it?" Kai harrumphed, "I'm more pissed off at you now than I would have been if you'd just fucking told me in the first place!"

Well, yeah. Hindsight was twenty-forty and all that shit. Probably not best to say that right now though, given how upset the younger woman was.

Also, probably wasn't a good idea to mention that the only reason Tucker hadn't told her was because he knew she would have insisted on going on account of Junior and her brother. If she'd ended up getting hurt or worse, he wouldn't have been able to ever face Grif again. Or even face himself again, for that matter, considering that the girl was practically family.

Given how Kai usually reacted when Grif tried pulling that kind of logic on her, it would probably not be a pretty sight to say anything like that right now.

She gave him the finger as if she was picking up on his thought processes anyway, "I ended up going with C.T. and the crazy old guy anyways, so screw you!"

"Kai…" Tucker frowned, really not sure what to say at this point and noticing how Junior had actually paused from his enjoyment of his lollipop as the two conversed to actually side-step away from his father just in the off-chance that Kai was going to punch him or something.

He felt oddly proud at Junior for being that perceptive since he'd probably do the same if he had been standing near an argument, yet also conflicted because he wasn't sure it was the best display of familial loyalty.

Suddenly, instead of looking vehemently angry, the girl teared up. Just as Tucker was about to flinch away in response to what looked like a potential punch coming his way, Kai hugged him instead.

"Asshole! I've been worried about my dumbass brother and Junior too." Her voice was muffled due to her head placement against his armor, "I had just as much of a reason to be there as you did!"

Tucker sighed, definitely feeling more than just a bit guilty while returning the hug awkwardly, "I—I know, Kai." He admitted, "Sorry."

She sniffled into his shoulder just then, and Tucker had to avoid making a face because he recalled her having been a really messy nose runner when she cried as a little kid in the past, "Then I had to worry about you too because of that! Stupid dick!"

He sighed again, "I'm sorry. Really."

"Whatever." Kai pulled away, eyes red and her face tearstained, but the sudden flash of anger that had suffused her features earlier was nowhere to be seen, "But, at least I got the chance to yell at you for it."

"I'm sure as hell glad you did."

He couldn't help but smile a bit at that. Maybe Tucker had wanted to avoid a confrontation with Kai, but having her yell at him beat the alternative of him not being around to hear it.

Now that the weirdness was over between the two older humans, Junior held out one of the lollipops to the yellow-armored lieutenant. Obviously happy to share the bounty with a friend.

She patted his head before taking it, "Thanks, little guy." Kai told him, looking at the lollipop thoughtfully before remarking, "I should really show Volleyball that trick you can do with getting the candy off of the stick and unwrapped with just your tongue."

"Yeah, yeah…" Tucker paused then once her words sunk in, suddenly not at all sure that this conversation was something Junior should be hearing "Wait, what?"

"I can show you it too, Tucker." She offered, her tone once again warmly exuberant with her childhood friend as she winked mischievously, "I bet your cop boyfriend would arrest you for it though."

He was trying to grasp who exactly his 'cop boyfriend' was supposed to be in this conversation as, apparently to Grif's little sister, it was someone who should be quite obvious to Tucker given how nonplussed she seemed to be with the remark.

However, as he was thinking, another thought entirely crossed the girl's mind and Kai looked at him worriedly.

"…They got Dex out too, right?" She asked, almost hesitantly and biting her lip in an oddly not very Kai-like fashion, "Everyone keeps telling me they did, but I wasn't sure if they were just trying to be nice or something."

It made sense that she would be a little worried in that regard, given how close the two siblings were. Fuck, his own not filling her in about the whole rescue plan hadn't probably helped that any either.

He smiled reassuringly, "Yeah, Kai. They got him out too."

Tucker didn't say that the reason he wasn't here yet was because Grif's condition apparently wasn't the best for travel. Knowing for sure that the fat-ass was at least relatively safer now compared to the whole uncertainty about his condition they had before was at least hopefully something of a comfort to the younger Grif sibling.

"Simmons is with him, right?" Kai asked then, looking both relieved by Tucker's reassurance and also more than just a tad bolstered by having heard the news from him too.

When Tucker nodded in response to her question, a slight smile formed on her face.

"I'm glad." Kai seemed even more relieved at the fact that her brother had someone close by that he knew, "Although it's probably a good thing neither of them can get pregnant!"

---

"He'll be fine, Wash." C.T. stated quietly, trying to hide her growing amusement at Washington turning his head to stare at the hallway they had last seen Tucker go through with Junior and Doctor Grey, "You could have gone with them, if you'd wanted."

He sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair in a nervous gesture he hadn't done in quite a while, "I know, but you said it yourself: he's most likely fine and he was yelling at me before about worrying too much, and I don't really want to intrude on his reunion with Junior and—"

The Above Grounder was rambling like how he used to do when they were kids and he had been over-excited about something, like he had done up until things with Project Freelancer had fallen through so horribly wrong. He stopped abruptly when he realized this, face heating up as he turned to see the now very apparent smirk on the brunette's face at his behavior.

Washington frowned, sighing, "We are so not discussing this right now."

C.T. raised an eyebrow in the same teasing way she had done when they were kids and she'd caught him making a fool of himself, "I really don't know what you're talking about, Agent Washington."

She did. She totally did!

But, because he really didn't want to bring even more attention to how he had been acting just then and hear a ton of teasing about it, the man figured it was best to just play along and change the subject. All while ignoring how his face had gotten even hotter in those last few moments of conversation.

Given everything that had happened, it was both disconcerting and oddly comforting in a way to see how quickly their dynamic had gone back to a more pleasant back-and-forth now.

Truthfully, Washington had thought his friendship with Connie had pretty much ended the second she had started acting so distrusting over Project Freelancer, the second she had begun pulling away from everyone. That was followed quickly thereafter by the Insurrection attack, what happened with Epsilon, and her full-blown defection. There were far too many uncomfortable and hurtful circumstances between them to count.

The last few times the childhood friends had seen each other since then had been awkward, to say the least. Particularly given her ties to the Resistance and his continued involvement before with Above Ground.

He hadn't been sure anything could really change that sense of mistrust for any of the former Freelancers, really.

Being able to actually have a conversation with C.T. again after what seemed like years, to fall so quickly back into old habits? It was hard to put into words how Washington felt about it. It was both unnerving and grateful all at once.

Probably leaning more towards grateful though, especially since most of the people around here save for a handful of the Resistance members the Freelancer had met previously were more or less strangers.

Plus, thinking back to scabbed knees and skateboarding adventures, before all of the horribleness in general happened? It was something of a relief too.

It was good in a way, but where they were and why they were here had to be more of the top priority of focus right now.

Reminding himself of that while trying to change the subject was a good way to stay on track and not think on things that could wait until later. If they were still alive to do so at all then.

"What has the situation here been like?" Washington asked, quickly getting back to a more serious frame of mind now that he had embarrassed himself enough for the day, "We received snippets of information from Carolina's group while on the run, but it wasn't always clear."

C.T. sighed, the good-natured teasing she had been giving him earlier fading away the second his question was asked, "So you know that not only was their part of your crazy plan successful, but that we also have a good idea on the location of the relic now?"

He nodded stiffly. They had caught wind of that at least, but nothing very concrete besides. Trying to lose very dogged pursuers had meant dropping out of communication quite a bit more than the Above Grounder liked. Going into things blind was never the best strategy, he knew that well enough now from personal experience.

Given much of the activity and snippets of conversation Washington had picked up since their recent arrival at the Resistance bunker though, it was obvious that plans were already in the works for a rather large operation soon.

"Then you're pretty much in the same boat as us." C.T. told him, her expression grim.

He stared at her incredulously, gray eyes widening in surprise, "Seriously?"

Granted, Washington hadn't expected the Resistance to have a ton more of information. Information was always at a minimum considering how much picking away and investigating went into finding any gleams of it, even with the A.I.s looking into matters now too. Hargrove certainly was adept at keeping his secrets secret.

But, still, the Freelancer was honestly a bit surprised that given how rough the last couple of days had been and the moments of complete silence they'd undertaken they hadn't been even more out of the loop while they made their way back to the Resistance.

"It's an area up in the mountains called Sidewinder." The brunette told him, gauging his reaction carefully, "Sound familiar?"

Washington frowned at her question. Of course, it did. They had gone to that area on missions a few times during Project Freelancer's heyday, and it was also…

"Florida was killed there." He spoke quietly, not really wanting to bring up the topic at all.

Or, at least, that was where the body had been found. The exact time and place of his death could have been somewhere else entirely. The only real record Church and Delta had found about it was more about the reason as to why Florida had been killed on Above Ground orders, and how that had ultimately been covered up.

C.T. nodded, not looking pleased at the memory either.

"Maine was last seen there too." She said quietly, "When he…"

She trailed off, but he knew what his childhood friend was going to say. The Above Grounder could easily fill in the rest. When he died.

Washington had still been in recovery at the time due to the incident with Epsilon, but he had heard all about it later.

Maine had somehow gone rogue during the defection of Tex, York, and North. He had attacked Carolina and left her nearly dead. Afterwards, Maine had somehow wound up at Sidewinder and was subsequently killed.

The details on the whole event were pretty much nonexistent, even in the classified files of the Director that they had uncovered. A pretty obvious sign that a massive cover-up had happened.

"The Director did have an odd fondness for that area. Even before then." Washington noted tightly, trying not to ponder the reasons as to why the hugely intimidating yet always encouraging Maine had succumbed to such a fate, although they all revolved around that fucking implantation process, "I suppose it does oddly make sense."

They probably should have picked up on that fondness a lot earlier, now that Washington thought about it.

He sighed, wondering if the Director would be there too then. Considering that the information had come from Church, who was still with Carolina, he could imagine her thinking along the same vein. No doubt Carolina had always been planning something along the lines of revenge given what the Director had done.

The redheaded Freelancer would certainly want to stop the relic from being developed into a super-weapon capable of wiping out an entire population of people, but if she thought that he was there at Sidewinder specifically?

Well, he should probably share that concern with Delta and York at some point soon. Perhaps even Tex as well.

He was more than aware of what Carolina and Church had been discussing in that regard, ever since the reveal about what Church really was. Washington had a sneaking suspicion about what they might try to do in the midst of all of this if they thought the Director was remotely close by.

Whether or not it would be a good thing though, that was the question.

The brunette sitting nearby watched his expression become even more downcast as he mulled over this new information with a deepening frown on her own face.

Evidently, she apparently decided that it had gone on for long enough and slapped a hand onto her armored knee quickly to get his attention, a sort-of smile crossing over her face at the same time.

"We could probably go and find Tucker now. If you'd like." C.T. offered.

Perhaps there had been too much of an eager, near desperate look suffusing his features at her comment, because the full-on smirk that suddenly lit up her face was even shining in her eyes.

Washington groaned, his face red once more, "Not. Another. Word."

---

The next time Grif woke up, only Simmons was in the room with him.

"Where'd…Doc go?" The Slums dweller asked in a croaking voice, wincing both at how terrible he sounded and the pain that suddenly shot all over through his body as he tried to move slightly to sit up in the bed.

Fuck.

He was fairly certain given how fuzzy his brain felt that he still had that heavy-duty painkiller coursing through his system. Grif wasn't even sure he wanted to know what he would feel like without it anytime soon, especially since he was still as fucking uncomfortable as he felt now while on it.

"He left to talk to Church and Sheila about something." Simmons told him in way of explanation, hand poised to grasp Grif's shoulder in a steadying motion should he need it. The cyborg must have held back on actually physically helping due to the momentary stubborn look on Grif's features.

The Resistance fighter didn't usually like moving most of the time, but he would be in really bad shape if he couldn't manage to do just that tiny bit on his own at some point. Simmons smiled slightly at him, though the expression looked pretty watery.

Grif couldn't tell if that was actually due to the tears of exertion forming in his own eyes given what he had just forced his protesting body to do since, for a second there, everything looked fucking blurry to him. Or, rather, if seeing a friend struggling like that had just caused the maroon soldier to get emotional.

Knowing the two of them, he had a feeling it was probably a combination of both.

Simmons helped Grif ease up into his new sitting position by using the pillows on the bed behind him before offering him a cup of something to drink. Looking at the cup, Grif dimly remembered that Doc had wanted to get him orange juice before he had passed out the first time.

With very visible effort, the Resistance fighter reached out for the drink and the first thing he noticed about his arm were the white bandages that wrapped it up completely. In fact, they stopped only just below Grif's tan knuckles.

Even so, he could make out a dark red mark peeking out on his hand that had definitely not been there before.

It hurt just gripping the cup, but Grif didn't really want to show it. He liked playing up being sick and hurt for all it was worth when there was a good chance for a nap or getting someone else to do all his work for him, but being in this level of pain and discomfort was on a whole other, unnerving level.

Yup, he had been right. Definitely orange juice. At least his memory wasn't completely trashed. Grif stubbornly managed to drink a bit of the sour liquid down before Simmons took it away. He nodded his head slightly in thanks to the Above Grounder, surprised by how strained even that movement felt.

Shit.

Even with all of the effort it took just to do that, Grif wasn't even hungry either.

He must be dying or something.

Grif tried not thinking too much on that disconcerting thought. The fuzziness was certainly helpful in getting his mind to drift away from being too troubled over things that normally would probably be scaring the shit out of him if he was thinking properly. He still felt a bit tired, but he really wanted to fight the urge to fall asleep too quickly again.

Thankfully, parching his thirst a bit helped with how scratchy his throat had been earlier so when he was better able to vocalize more, he started, "Is something happening, or…?"

"No. Not for a while, Grif." Simmons sounded oddly hesitant, focusing his attention on the oddly pastel bedspread covering the rest of Grif's bandaged injuries from view, "Just focus on getting better, okay?"

Given that response, the Slums dweller knew something was definitely up.

But, at the moment, Grif was almost too exhausted to care. The whole effort of just sitting up had been somehow more draining than even the worst of Sarge's drills.

"H-hey, Simmons?" He asked as he felt his eyes drooping again. The Resistance soldier tried to resist the temptation to sleep though, as at the moment all he really wanted was to keep hearing the cyborg talk.

"Yeah, Grif?" Simmons almost sounded like he was going to cry for real now. Considering the reason for it, Grif figured he'd be nice and not call him a nerd or anything.

"How…bad is it? Really?"

He had pretty much meant everything, which made for one really fucking loaded question. Grif wasn't sure he really wanted to know what lay behind all of the bandages and the lingering pain medication yet, but he definitely knew it wasn't going to be anything good.

His injuries, his friends, the whole current situation with Above Ground and the Slums. All of it.

A part of him really didn't want to know any of it just yet given how hard it was to even stay fucking awake, but another incessant side was screaming inwardly that he should.

There was a pause from the Above Grounder, as if he was debating on just how to respond.

Finally, he seemed to settle on, "We can get into that later, Grif."

The Slums dweller was drifting off again despite not wanting to just yet, and he was surprised to feel wetness on his face at the thought.

Simmons did reach out again, grasping onto Grif's hand while his face turned completely red even down to the too-white synthetic skin. This time the redhead showed no hesitation or indication of letting go.

That tiny comfort had to be enough for now.

At least when he dozed off, Grif's sleep didn't start off with nightmares thanks to the reassuring warmth enveloping his scarred fingers.

---

Author's Notes: A chapter about the immediate aftermath of the whole rescue mission from the last one. I apologize that it took so long to post. Some personal matters came up as I was writing this chapter, and I ended up struggling with parts of it as a result.

Not the most exciting of chapters, but some rather necessary reunions happened, some plot points expanded on more, and some awkwardness too. The next chapter will hopefully have even more awkwardness and quite a bit of "romance" moments too! :)

Actually, we're sort of getting close to the ending now. Which is odd to think of considering how long this story became. I don't know how many more chapters it will be, but we're definitely approaching the final battle. Given that, I might be posting a few separate stories here (shorter one shots really) as a gift to my sister while still working on this fic as well, so I apologize if you see my name popping up more often.

Thank you, as always, for sticking with me this far and for reading! I hope this chapter was a decent read despite the wait! :D