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 Fourteen:

There was a heavy, thick silence that filled the warehouse following Malcolm Hargrove's inquiry. Given how deadly still everything had become, one would very likely hear a pin drop from across the large expanse of the warehouse's main area.

Richard "Dick" Simmons' own heartbeat, or what equated to one now in his cybernetic body, was hammering away loudly in his ears. Though the building was designed to be vast, he found that the warehouse was suddenly far too claustrophobic and suffocating.

As the familiar face from his past, a portion of it that he had long since tried to forget no less, regarded him in both shock and an assessing manner, Simmons felt everyone else's eyes on him too. Particularly Grif's.

His face reddened at the prospect of being the center of attention, and the cyborg wanted nothing more than to disappear right then and there. If only the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Damn laws of physics and reality always working against him!

It was Sarge who decided to break the silence, glancing between Hargrove and Simmons. The older soldier began frowning just as Grif took a protective step closer to the unaware redhead's side.

"If you don't mind my asking, how exactly do you know Simmons?" Sarge asked, voice friendly enough to hide his suspicions.

After all, the Reds' leader knew a great deal about everyone in their little unit's pasts, so he knew that Simmons hadn't had an enjoyable one in a lot of aspects.

"I knew—"

"He was—!"

Both Simmons and Hargrove had spoken up at the exact same time. They glanced at each other with Simmons' expression sheepish while the older man's was rather unreadable. Simmons nodded slightly, acquiescing the right to answer the question to Hargrove.

"I knew his family before they were killed. I was…" Hargrove trailed off, looking rather remorseful at the fact that he was talking in the past tense, "I was friends with Richard's father."

Simmons flinched slightly at the memories this whole situation seemed to be bringing up: of an awkward party and an equally awkward conversation, of Simmons' father's indifferent announcement following it, of his mother's tears…

Of his parents' deaths shortly afterwards.

"I am glad to see that you're alive, Richard." Hargrove said in a soothing voice, smiling slightly, "When I'd heard of what happened, I had assumed the worst."

"I—!" Simmons began, but cut himself off since he wasn't sure what to say to that.

Truthfully, this entire situation had him at a loss for words. He hated it.

Perhaps knowing what Simmons was thinking, Hargrove regarded the redhead sympathetically, "I understand that it's a lot to process." He told him, "Why don't we discuss things later, once we've both had time to let it all sink in?"

Simmons couldn't help but nod his head at the idea, grateful for the suggestion.

The introductions and tour of the warehouse then went on as scheduled, though Simmons paid the proceedings little mind.

The pale man could tell that the others were staring at him every so often with questions of their own. He couldn't bring himself to look over at anyone just then for fear of being asked questions he didn't want to answer, especially Grif.

Lavernius Tucker swung his sword with practiced ease, the energy blade cleaving through the air in front of him. He grinned, sweat dripping down his face thanks to the numerous times that he had repeated the motion.

Sure, he could use the holographic practice room or one of the many Chorus training halls instead of the park to practice his technique, but where would the fun in that be?

Plus, if the teal-wearing soldier did his training in the park then the odds were good that Washington wouldn't know about it. So, he could then show the Freelancer up whenever the blond-haired man complained that he didn't train enough.

The dark skinned man grinned even more at that particular thought. Not only was that a hell of a lot of fun to do, but he loved the look on Wash's face whenever Tucker managed to get him flustered. It was a win-win. For him, at any rate. He was sure the older man would disagree.

"Hey, Tucker."

Tucker paused his sword practice at the sound of Felix's voice casually greeting him. He turned around to see the mercenary observing from a safe distance.

"Felix. What's up?"

Tucker walked over to him then, noting to himself that he hadn't really seen the orange-trimmed mercenary since the day that he'd helped give Hargrove a tour of Chorus.

That had been a few days ago, though Simmons in particular still seemed as shell-shocked by the encounter with Hargrove as if it had happened mere minutes ago instead. Tucker almost felt sorry for the cyborg. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to suddenly get reminded of events and people from his own past before his having met up with the Reds and Blues.

"Nothing much." Felix shrugged, "Just thought I'd ask how your more electronically enhanced buddies were doing since the repairs started."

Ah, so the mercenary wanted to check up on Church and the others. That made sense. It was probably because he had been the one to suggest to Kimball and Doyle that they go to Hargrove for aid in the first place.

Tucker couldn't help but grin gratefully, "They're doing better now that the outages aren't happening nearly so often." He regarded the dark-haired man thoughtfully, "What about the cyborgs in your unit?"

"About the same, more or less." Felix grinned, "I knew going to Hargrove for help was a good idea."

Tucker couldn't help but roll his eyes at the self-congratulatory note in the other man's voice, "Yeah, yeah. We get it. You're awesome."

"As long as we're all in agreement about that." Felix stated smugly.

Tucker was about to go back to his training just then when Felix surprised him by getting a rather curious look on his face.

"That boy I sometimes see you with," he began, "Is he your son?"

At the sudden mention of Junior, Tucker's blood went cold. It always disconcerted him when people took an interest in Junior, considering how negatively people often treated genetically engineered people. Carolina had been right about him being understandably overprotective in that regard.

Judging by the knowing look on Felix's face, it seemed as if the mercenary had already surmised the answer to his own question well before he had even asked it.

"Hey, no worries! It's not like I'm going to grab the kid or anything. I was just curious. That's all." Felix held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, "Figured with how obvious his origins are there was an interesting story there. Connected to your alien sword, maybe?"

…Meaning how obvious it was that Junior was a genetically engineered child. Tucker's growing suspicion only rose at that remark along with the comment about Junior's possible connection to his sword. He fought to visibly suppress his sudden distrust.

Tucker was just spending too much time with Wash and Carolina. Surely, Felix didn't mean anything sinisterly evil. The mercenary was just a naturally curious asshole. But, try as Tucker might, his parental instincts were screaming "Caution!" far too loudly to just be ignored.

"That's personal." He finally said at length, his voice sounding frigid to his own ears.

Felix nodded his head then, a look of understanding crossing over his features. "Hey, you're just being a good father is all." He assured Tucker, nodding before wisely deciding to change the subject, "There's a scavenger mission coming up. Guess I should mind my own business and get ready for that, huh?"

Following that question, Felix left with a quick wave of his hand. It took Tucker several minutes afterwards to calm himself down.

His thoughts went to Junior and he had the sudden urge to go to the boy's school to check up on him. Tucker wondered if he shouldn't first tell Wash about the exchange with Felix, though his feet were already moving in the direction of his son.

Simmons was running an inventory check list for the gear that would be needed on the upcoming retrieval mission.

Judging from the roster this time around, it was going to be a fairly large group going. Wash, Caboose (along with Freckles, of course), Tucker, Felix, Locus, Doyle (surprisingly enough), and the lieutenants. Plus, one fat-ass named Grif.

The redhead sighed, pausing for a moment to rub a hand over his face as he wondered just what it was he was currently doing. Truth be told, he didn't mind extra work like this. Far from it, actually.

But there was no denying that he had been volunteering himself for extra shifts to avoid talking to Grif or any of the others who might have questions about his past thanks to Hargrove's appearance. Simmons hated himself a little bit for being so cowardly all the time, but it was just too uncomfortable a subject to delve into even more than he already had.

Judging by the suspicious glint he had caught in Grif's dark eyes the day after Hargrove's tour of the warehouse, the cyborg had a sneaking feeling of his own that Grif had already guessed their connection. He wasn't necessarily sure if he wanted to hear the chubbier man's opinion on it just then though as he was still in the process of trying to figure out what to do himself.

However, Simmons knew that he couldn't just keep avoiding the issue by doing extra work forever. From the look on Doctor Grey's face when he had passed her in the hallway earlier that day, the pale skinned man had a feeling he was soon going to be ordered away from the warehouse.

"Richard?"

The all-too familiar voice intruded into his thoughts just then, and Simmons nearly knocked over the scanning equipment he had been just about to pack up. No matter how the redhead tried to keep things organized, it never stuck given everyone else's messier habits. Suddenly he was hyper-aware of the mess in the room.

Of course that could also be due to the fact that Malcolm Hargrove was standing in the doorway of the workshop, looking at the haphazard piles of equipment and items scattered about disdainfully before turning his attention back to the nervous cyborg.

Simmons swallowed nervously, "S—sir?"

He hadn't encountered Hargrove since the tour of the warehouse. The older man had been kept busy trying to help oversee the beginning repairs to Chorus' power outage situation. Truthfully, though it had meant that he had been left to stew in how the eventual interaction would perhaps play out, Simmons had been somewhat glad all the same.

"It feels like you've been trying to avoid me, Richard." Hargrove shot him a pointed look just then, "You should remember well enough that I don't appreciate being ignored."

"S—sorry." Simmons blanched at the remark, "I didn't mean to. I…I just thought you were busy and—!"

"I was, but I meant what I said about wanting to catch up." Hargrove waved a hand through the air dismissively, "Though I suppose I can understand your misgivings."

Simmons looked at the ground, both nervous and embarrassed all at once, "I…"

"My dear boy, there's no need to worry." Hargrove cut him off, seemingly amused by Simmons' reaction, "The contract between your father and I was for when you were a child still. I have no interest in adopting a grown man."

Right. Of course. It was silly of Simmons to even be thinking of that anymore.

Hargrove stepped closer, eyes on the synthetic skin portion of Simmons' face, "I just wish to catch up with a family friend who has clearly been through quite a lot since last we met. If that's all right with you?"

"Of…of course, sir!" Simmons couldn't help but shakily smile in relief at the direction this conversation was going in.

Following that, the two ended up talking for quite a bit about what they had both been up to following his parents' deaths with Hargrove listening patiently and sympathetically to it all. By the time the older man had to take his leave, Simmons felt more relaxed and at ease than he had in the past few days.

Dexter Grif was walking back to the apartment complex following his second dinner of the evening when he decided to stop by the warehouse. If he was being honest with himself, his main reason for heading towards the warehouse was to check to see if Simmons was there overworking himself yet again.

Usually Grif would just check the nerd's apartment, but these last couple of days that had been proven to be a bust. So, he figured if he wanted to be sure to catch Simmons, he'd have to check the kiss-ass' work area too.

He wanted to check in on the redhead more than he'd probably ever care to admit to. Following Doc and Donut's advice to give Simmons some time and space had been one of the hardest things he'd done recently.

But, if the cyborg just happened to be somewhere that Grif was visiting that was totally okay in his book. If there was one thing Grif knew how to take advantage of, it would be a technical loophole.

The orange-wearing soldier was surprised to see Church, Sheila, and Lopez standing in a cluster together by the warehouse steps. The trio seemed to be discussing something at length as he approached.

"It's good to know that your headaches have become more manageable, Church." Sheila stated as Grif neared them, "Our power shutdowns have as well."

"Yeah, I just wish it would stop being a fucking problem altogether." Church sighed and shook his head, "But I guess it's better to see some improvement than nothing."

Ah, so they were talking about the repairs being made to help combat the power outages. Grif thought of their symptoms and of Simmons'. It was good that things seemed to be improving at least a little bit on that front.

"Por ejemplo, cómo supongo que uno de interrumpir Fecha Noche es mejor que todos ustedes." {"Like how I suppose one of you interrupting Date Night is better than all of you."}

Sheila gave Lopez's hand a consoling squeeze at whatever he had just said.

"Hey, guys." Grif took the opportunity to walk over to them.

"...No importa." {"…Never mind."}

The tan skinned man could swear he heard what sounded like electronic sighing coming from the brown-armored robot.

Sheila cast a sympathetic glance her boyfriend's way before patiently acknowledging Grif, "Greetings, Grif. Are you here to check on the equipment for the upcoming scavenging mission?"

Church scoffed, "Yeah, like work is ever on Grif's mind." He smirked, "But I bet I know why he's here."

"Todos lo hacemos. No es como si fuera una sorpresa más." {"We all do. It's not like it's a surprise anymore."}

Sheila nodded her head at whatever Lopez had said before stating, "Simmons is in the backroom."

Grif frowned for a moment, wondering if he really was that transparent before nodding his thanks to Sheila and giving Church the finger as he headed inside the warehouse. Hopefully, Sheila and Lopez could get away from Church in a little while since he knew today was the robotic couple's "Date Night" or whatever the fuck they were calling it now.

In the warehouse, the genetically engineered man was caught off guard when he headed to the back workroom to find Malcolm Hargrove of all people going the opposite direction.

"Ah." The older man looked at him curtly, "Grif, was it?"

"That's right." Grif couldn't help but feel slightly on edge around the Chairman, especially given his suspicion as to Hargrove's actual connection to Simmons.

"If you're looking for Simmons, he's still working." Hargrove began moving past him as though he couldn't be bothered to be in the chubby man's presence any longer than was necessary, "If you'll excuse me."

Grif didn't even wait until Hargrove was gone down the hallway before entering the workroom.

There was Simmons by the table, a little bit startled by what was obviously the second intrusion into his inventory checking that day. The cyborg stood up straighter, red-faced, when he saw who it was this time.

"Grif, I—!"

"I saw Hargrove." Grif cut in without preamble, expression serious, "What were you guys talking about?"

"The…the past." Simmons shrugged, swallowing nervously, "He wanted to catch up on everything."

"I see." Grif wasn't sure why, but Simmons' vague answers about what had happened were annoying him.

Perhaps as if sensing that, the redhead fidgeted, "Actually, Hargrove was the one who…" he swallowed again before continuing, "Wanted to adopt me in the past."

That confirmed all of Grif's suspicions then as he nodded in apathetic understanding, "So what does he want now?"

It still startled him how naïve Simmons could be when it came to the "adoption" story. He felt like he had to be the cautious one here, for the nerd's sake.

"N—nothing." Simmons informed him, still a bit flustered probably by Grif's tone and demeanor, "I told you. He just wanted to catch up."

"Right." Grif was tempted to press the matter further, but knew doing so might cause Simmons to retreat again and he definitely didn't want that. So, he changed subjects for the moment by asking: "What were you doing before you two caught up?"

Simmons blinked, apparently both surprised and relieved at the change in subject, "I was just going through the inventory for the upcoming retrieval mission."

"Oh. So, nerd stuff then." Grif nodded his head in understanding, "Gotcha."

"It's—it's not nerd stuff!" Simmons puffed out his chest defensively at the teasing, "You should be helping to prepare for it too, Grif!"

Grif smirked and shrugged his shoulders indifferently to the suggestion, "Hey, I prepare for them by actually bothering to show up."

"That's—!"

"Besides," and he cut into Simmons' protest before it could even begin, "You know me, Simmons. My preparation for anything is a good rest and asking the important questions in life."

Simmons sighed in defeat, "Such as…?"

Grif's grin got even wider as he pulled out a treasure from their pasts years ago standing on sentry duty back when they were first starting to become friends and possibly a bit more to one another, "Do you ever wonder why we're here?"

"You're the worst." But Simmons was trying to hide his own nostalgic smile as he said it.

That got the two men talking again about all sorts of topics under the sun like they normally would, to the point where the awkwardness of the past few days was completely forgotten.

In fact, they lost track of time so much that the only thing that brought them back to reality hours later was Church loudly yelling from the doorway that he would find a hose and turn it on them if they didn't let other people do some actual "goddamned work" sometime soon.

Slightly red in the face at the very loud interruption considering that Church did not have what could be described as an "indoor voice," Grif and Simmons still couldn't hide their smiles either.

Author's Notes: So we learned a bit more about the connection between Simmons and Hargrove. Yes, Grif is right in that the "adoption" wasn't nearly as nice as Simmons seems to want to believe it was despite his own past recollections of it. Felix also managed to get a bit under Tucker's skin in this chapter too. Oh, and Church is apparently a "moment killer" for everyone in this story verse. XD

With Hargrove thrown more into the mix now, things will definitely be intensifying in this story as he isn't nearly as helpful to everyone as he seems to be currently (big shocker there, I bet! XD). But, I was glad I was able to end this chapter with a softer moment between Grif and Simmons all the same. :D

I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it. Thank you for taking the time to read it! :D