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 Ten:
The only thing in the inky darkness that Dexter Grif could even remotely make out was Simmons. The completely motionless cyborg had filled his vision the second he fell.
The kiss-ass' prone form continued to remain on the ground. It was almost as if… No, don't think it. Grif corrected himself.
The redhead was just unconscious, hypocritically lying there. Seriously, what an asshole. Simmons had some nerve to do this now after all the times he had called Grif lazy.
"Simmons? Simmons! Come on, get up!"
He wasn't sure how long he had been calling out Simmons' name. Nor was the tan-skinned man sure when he had fallen to his knees on the ground beside the cyborg, shaking the lankier man and holding him in his arms all at once.
"Come on, Dick!"
Grif even used his real name, the one Simmons hated, hoping it would piss the nerd off enough that he'd snap back into consciousness. The cockbite still remained motionless in Grif's arms, so his panic only intensified.
"SIMMONS!"
He vaguely recognized the sound of a door opening from behind, and the genetically engineered man was distantly aware of footsteps racing over to them. But, Grif couldn't tear himself away from trying to just get Simmons to open his fucking eyes already.
"Grif!" Cass' voice broke into his panicked thoughts with a taking-charge tone, "Get it together!"
"But—!" Grif's grip around Simmons tightened, as if afraid that the gathered group of bar patrons might try to take the pale form away from him.
"It looks bad, but he's only unconscious." Her voice was calm but had a slight edge to it all the same, "Get him inside. You can put him upstairs."
That's right. Cass' apartment might have been a major downsize from the home she had shared before with her late husband, but it was located just above the bar.
Simmons would probably appreciate waking up somewhere a bit more private than outside on the street. Knowing the redhead as well as he did, Grif was pretty sure the anxious cyborg would have a massive panic attack if he woke up in the middle of a crowd of relative strangers.
Shakily, he began lifting Simmons up, barely registering how heavy the skinny man was due to his dead weight and metallic implants. Grif wasn't even totally aware of Andersmith suddenly appearing at his side to help him either as he followed his brunette friend back into Cass' building as if in a daze.
The bar was pitch black inside. Still, he could make out that even more people had remained inside, obviously having chosen to stay put instead of blindly stumbling outside in the dark.
Adding somewhat to his inner concern, the tan-skinned man could see Doc and Donut hovering over the slumped over forms of both Sheila and Lopez. He also noticed that Bones, Matthews, and even Bitters seemed to be having their work cut out for them with trying to calm down a distraught Caboose who was frantically waving around a silent Freckles in a vain attempt to get his friend to wake up.
Grif swallowed uncomfortably at the sights, the anxious feeling in his stomach rising to panic levels once more.
His friends had everything there under control as much as they could given the situation, so while they looked over the others he really needed to focus on Simmons.
Still, the dark-haired man decided that when Simmons woke up they would both have to go check on everyone else too. After all, that was the kind of shit friends did for one another.
Grif fought down his once again rising panic with a stubborn thought of how everything was going to be okay. He just had to make sure that Simmons would wake up first.
The mysterious stranger fired at Charles Palomo the second the blackout occurred. Suffice it to say, if the two rookies hadn't already thought that the unidentified man was suspicious before, they certainly did now.
Fortunately for Palomo, Katie Jensen was quick on her feet and had managed to tackle the dark-skinned young man to the ground. Both rookies collided with the street painfully, the bullet passing overhead just centimeters from where they had been previously standing.
Jensen remained sprawled on top of Palomo, her heart hammering in her chest as her brain started processing just how close they had come to death. That's when the tan-skinned girl heard footsteps moving closer to them, and through her adrenaline haze she realized that the man was preparing to take another shot.
So, she added a quick correction to her inner thought narrative. In other words, the freckled lieutenant's brain was starting to process just how close they still were to death.
Realizing the threat quite literally looming over them, Jensen forced her aching body up so that she was basically sitting on top of Palomo with her muscles poised to jump and a warning on her lips.
"K—Katie," Palomo was looking up at his savior in complete awe while totally oblivious to what was currently going on, "I—!"
Whatever he was about to say was lost as the man aimed again. Jensen closed her eyes because there was no way they'd be able to dodge again. At such a close range, unless he was an awful shot like Mr. Church was, the stranger was definitely not going to miss a second time.
If Jensen had kept her eyes open, she would have seen quite a different sight from what she was expecting because that particular moment was when a cyan blur suddenly raced in-between the two young recruits and the hostile.
When the lieutenant realized she hadn't been killed yet, her brown eyes opened to find a kicking armored form lash out, causing the mysterious assailant to misfire again. The gun was then knocked out of his hands a second later, Agent Carolina's face a stern mask as she stood in the middle of the altercation she had happened upon.
"A—Agent Carolina!" Jensen had never been so relieved to see the imposing former Freelancer before in her life.
She got to her feet shakily, helping Palomo do the same with an outstretched hand since he was still flat on his back.
For a long while, no one spoke as Carolina squinted at the saboteur through the darkness they had wreaked on the streets of Chorus. However, something about their red camouflage seemed to catch the former Freelancer's eye as she motioned towards it with a tilt of her head.
"What is the Insurrection doing here?" She demanded sharply, fists still at the ready.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" The stranger let out a sharp bark of patronizing laughter, sweeping his arms out to encompass all of the darkened streets around them, "Let's just call all of this payback."
It was obvious to the two rookies that evidentially the mystery man's comment struck a chord with the redhead. Still shell-shocked, they watched as Carolina gritted her teeth, racing forward to deliver yet another crushing blow to the man.
"Carolina!"
Of course, that was also when Agent Washington's voice broke through the night.
The three from Chorus glanced in the direction that the genetically engineered soldier's call had come from as both he and Captain Tucker ran over to where they were. They must have heard the commotion from somewhere nearby.
"Oh, you guys are here too!" Tucker noted upon seeing Jensen and Palomo as well.
The new presences granted a momentary distraction that the mysterious man used to full effect as he fired a blast grenade into the air when Carolina had turned slightly to face her comrades in mid-stride.
"Ow! What the fuck?" Tucker exclaimed as everyone reflexively covered their eyes.
When the flash faded and they could all see again the man was gone, though Jensen supposed it was perhaps fortunate that he didn't apparently have any extra weapons on hand. If he had, the stranger most likely would have used them instead while the group had been preoccupied.
"Damn it!" Carolina seethed, punching out into empty air in frustration.
"Um. Okay. I'll repeat myself." Tucker muttered, looking around the area frantically, "What. The. Actual. Fuck. Happened?"
It was a sentiment shared by Vanessa Kimball when she and Donald Doyle arrived on the scene a second later.
"What the Hell is going on here?" The dark-skinned woman demanded of Carolina as Doyle struggled for breath next to her.
The two leaders of Chorus being there made sense when Jensen thought about. After all, they were currently rather close to Armonia. Maybe that was the real reason behind the attack?
Somewhat curious about the answer herself, Jensen glanced towards the redhead.
But, it seemed that Carolina was already thinking of something else entirely with the blackout still looming overhead. The former Freelancer whipped her head in the direction of where the Reds and Blues' warehouse was located before shouting: "CHURCH!"
Leonard Church wasn't even fully aware of what was happening, only that there was a blinding flash of agony washing over his skull and down the rest of his body.
His barely conscious brain hardly recognized that a blackout was occurring. Nor was it aware of when he'd become a thrashing, screaming mess in one of the warehouse's hallways. He wasn't even aware that he had fallen in the first place, and the dark-haired man certainly wasn't entirely sure when two forms had bent over him in all the commotion.
If he squinted through the tears in his eyes and the pulsing in his brain, he could just make out the blurry forms of Doctor Grey and Sarge. But, it was too much fucking effort to keep that up for any reasonable length of time.
This wasn't like the previous blackout. This time, the agony seemed to be going on forever. The cybernetically enhanced man suddenly felt hands on his shoulders, keeping him from thrashing into a wall.
"What in tarnation is going on?" Sarge's voice was uncharacteristically worried, which just added to the list of shit that Church really didn't need to deal with right now.
"It must have to do with the blackout." Doctor Grey's response was terse but professional. Apparently, Church's writing on the floor in agony was enough to bring out her serious side. Who knew?
The hands on his shoulders were attempting to steady him and get him into a sitting position. The dark-haired man could just make out Doctor Grey hovering in front of his face, looking down at him in concern. Sarge was right behind her as the two began lifting him up.
Doctor Grey turned to Sarge after fishing for something in her pocket, "Go. You need to check on the others."
Sarge shook his head, reluctant to leave her with Church so obviously immobile with pain, "But—!"
"I'll get Church to the infirmary," she promised, "So just go!"
There was only a brief pause in which the two blurry forms seemed to be staring at each other, and then Sarge was moving away with an understanding nod of his head as he reassured the doctor, "I'll bring them all back."
"I know." Doctor Grey's tone was confident.
Then the dark-skinned woman pulled out the sedative she had been looking for earlier, injecting it into Church's arm without a second thought.
Thankfully, Church's world went blissfully black a second later.
Tex slammed her fist into the side of the air transport, leaving a noticeable dent in the metal.
"Hey!" Four Seven Niner's voice rang out disapprovingly, "What have I said about taking frustrations out on my ship?"
Tex huffed, not bothering to reply. Instead she took her helmet off and dropped it to the ground, grumpily landing on a seat.
"Okay." Niner turned her wheelchair around, gazing questioningly at the other woman who was currently holding her head in her hands, "What's going on? Usually you're in a much better mood when you've left one of your parties."
It was true too. This was definitely not the normal way Tex acted after pretty much single-handedly decimating one of the enemy's satellite bases.
The redhead sighed, finally looking up at the pilot, "We need to get going."
"So soon?" Niner couldn't help but joke in a snarky tone, "Here I was, wanting to see the sights first. Maybe pick up a few souvenirs."
The tan-skinned woman was already heading back to the controls before the Freelancer replied, ready to get moving.
"Rain check." Tex stated in mock apology, "I found the name of their next target. They're already making their move."
Ah, so that explained the sudden urgency to leave.
"Where to then?" The pilot asked, all business now that she knew they were on a time crunch.
Tex almost looked pained for a moment before she answered: "Chorus."
Niner's blood froze. "Fuck," she stated quietly, "That's where…"
She trailed off, unable to continue the sentence. Chorus. It was where the others had gone following the war to make a clean start for themselves. Where she had gone.
Even piloting at her fastest speed, they both knew that region was at least over two weeks away from where they were now.
Tex nodded in response to her unfinished comment, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.
"They'll be fucking sorry if they so much as lay a finger on any of my idiots."
Richard Simmons woke up as if in a groggy daze, a dull and throbbing ache spreading throughout his whole body as he did so. Through teary, blurred vision with his cybernetic eye in particular being rather fuzzy, he could make out three figures hovering above him.
"He's awake!" He recognized Cass' voice coming from one of the forms overhead.
"Welcome back, sir!" Andersmith sounded on the verge of tears.
"How are ya feeling, Simmons?" Sarge asked, sounding both relieved and concerned all at once.
The cyborg blinked, his vision thankfully finally coming into focus.
"Like—like shit, sir." Simmons couldn't help but answer honestly. After all, his body felt like it had just gone through a trash compactor.
"That's not surprising considering you were out for over two hours." Sarge told him.
He couldn't help but blink, this time in surprise, at that piece of information. Two hours?
The redhead's mind was still trying to figure out what had happened in the first place. Then it hit Simmons like a bag of bricks, which is funnily what he felt like actually happened at the moment. He had been talking with Grif outside the bar when everything had gone dark and…
He swallowed, not wanting to finish his thought as he glanced at Sarge, "Another blackout, sir?" Simmons asked.
Sarge nodded, looking grim, "'Fraid so. This one lasted longer."
No wonder he felt so out of sorts now. Simmons frowned, "What about the others…?"
If he had been this affected, then that meant that Church, Sheila, Lopez, and Freckles had no doubt experienced blackout repercussions too. His stomach became queasy just thinking about it.
The people now glancing at one another above him didn't help anything.
"They should be recovering right about now too." Sarge said at length, "I'm going to check on the three downstairs, then we're all heading to the clinic once everyone is up for it."
He nodded, "Sounds like a good plan, sir." Simmons muttered, unsure of what else to say.
There was an uncomfortable silence that spread across what now appeared to an unknown apartment that must have been above the bar based off of what the older soldier had said. The trio standing over him were once more looking at each other awkwardly.
Finally, Cass spoke up, "You know, someone else was worried sick about you too, Simmons."
She motioned to the other side of the tiny space, where Grif was sitting on the couch watching the cyborg with a surprisingly stern expression on his face.
"Now do you still think this isn't a big deal, Simmons?" The tan-skinned man asked him quietly.
Simmons could only shake his head in reply.
The others decided to give them space for a few moments, offering a couple quiet words of encouragement to Simmons before stepping outside to check on the situation in the bar downstairs.
There was an intense silence following their departure as Grif moved to sit next to the bed.
At length, averting the other's gaze, Simmons managed to mutter, "I'm…I'm sorry for how shitty things turned out."
He thought Grif might respond sarcastically, or maybe even agree with him. But, the chubby man surprised the redhead by letting out what appeared to be a relieved sigh.
"Honestly, Simmons?" Grif told him, looking him straight in the eye, "I'm just fucking grateful you're doing relatively okay now."
Simmons had to look away to try to cover up the sudden warmth on his face, feeling oddly touched by the sentiment.
But reality and his own nerves had him eventually facing Grif to ask a question that had been on his mind since he woke up, "Do you have any idea what's going to happen next?"
Grif sighed again, this time a tired and stressed one, "I don't have a damn clue." He muttered, unable to look Simmons in the eye as he said it.
The two stayed with one another in relative silence following that, worry on both of their minds along with a desire to just still be together in the same space for a little longer.
This time, though, the silence wasn't nearly as enjoyable or comfortable.
Author's Notes: Even though this is a shorter chapter, I figured I would post the aftermath one sooner rather than later in order to make up for the massive cliffhanger from last time. Things are definitely starting to heat up in the plot, and there are a lot of massive reveals to be had in upcoming chapters! Hopefully this was an enjoyable read still. Thank you for taking the time to do so! :)