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"All is as it was meant to be. It was meant to be lonely and terrifying and unfair and fleeting. Don't worry."
"That's bullshit," Grif said, " complete and utter bullshit. Where did you hear that anyway?"
"I don't remember, it was a long time ago, but it's not bullshit," Simmons argued. "I find it comforting."
"Comforting?" Grif scoffed. "All you just said was 'life sucks and then you die', how the hell do you find that comforting?"
"That is not what it means. It is about the inevitability of suffering and acceptance of this fact."
"How is that any different from what I just said? Or comforting?"
"Because I am not alone; everybody suffers and nothing that I do can change it, so there is no point in worrying about it."
"Even when you say it like that it's still bullshit. Life deals crappy hands to everyone, sure, but you don't just have to sit there and take it Simmons," Grif told him. "That is why people do things that make them happy. Take me for example-"
"All you do is eat junk food and avoid doing work," Simmons interrupted.
"And I am a happier person because of it."
"So what you're saying is that everyone should just avoid responsibility, which will inevitably lead to the downfall of society since nobody feels obligated or motivated to do anything about it, for the sole purpose of you getting to take more naps," Simmons ranted. "But hey, what does that matter because we'll all be 'happier' right?"
"Whoa dude, were you not hugged enough as a child or something?" Grif asked, startled by his teammate's outburst.
"Fuck off Grif, I can't waste anymore time standing around talking," Simmons said as he turned and walked away. "I have work to do."
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"I know that Sarge hates me, and the feeling is mutual," Grif complained, but a song! He has a fucking song about how much he wants to kill me!"
Simmons couldn't help himself and chuckled.
"It's not funny!" Grif shouted.
"It is a bit," Simmons responded.
"How?" Grif demanded.
"Did you not recognize the tune?"
"I didn't listen to the tune! Did you hear the words? I just wish that Grif was dead."
"When you wish upon a star."
"Put a bullet through his head."
"Makes no difference who you are."
"What?"
"It's a Disney song," Simmons said to Grif.
"So what?"
"So you mean to tell me that you don't find the fact that Sarge admitted that he goes up to the top of the base while everyone else is sleeping and sings Disney songs to himself even a little bit entertaining?"
"I'm surprised that Sarge even knows a Disney song. Although, that is not the one I would expect him to know even if I thought he did," Grif admitted.
"What song would you expect him to know?" Simmons asked, curious to hear Grif's answer.
"Oh you know, the one about fighting."
"The one about fighting?"
"Yeah, come on, you have to know it. The one from Mulan
"Let's get down to business," Grif sang.
"'I'll make a man out of you'," Simmons chuckled. "That does sound a bit like Sarge.
"Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons?" Grif continued to sing. "Be a man. We must be quick as a coursing river, with all the strength of a great typhoon." He stopped, clearly trying to remember the next line.
"With all the strength of a raging fire," Simmons started singing quietly, but gained confidence once he realized that Grif didn't mock him for singing as well. The next line they both belted loud and off-key. "Mysterious as the dark side of THE MOON!"
"What are you two dirtbags howling about over there?" Sarge barked. "Quiet down and get over here. We have work to do."
"Yes sir," Simmons replied, snapping to attention and following orders. Grif went as well, although considerably slower, and secretly pleased that Simmons for once had sounded reluctant to return to what they were supposed to be doing instead of monkeying about with him.
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"Simmons," Grif groaned, "the point of the game is to make it hard to guess which one is the lie."
"I know that," Simmons snapped back.
"You just said that you have a tattoo. That one is obviously the lie."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because tattoos are cool and you are not."
"Well I d- actually I told two lies.
"The name of the game is two truths and a lie. How did you not understand?"
"I understand how the game works," Simmons huffed. "I just... forgot something."
"Like the fact that you don't have a tattoo?" Grif teased.
"Not anymore," Simmons admitted, "but you do."
"I think I'd know if I had a tattoo, Simmons," Grif scoffed.
"You are pretty confident for someone who has quite a bit of donated skin."
"Oh god, how nerdy is it? And is it like smart nerdy or comic books and sci-fi nerdy?"
"I'm not telling you that. You'll just have to look for yourself."
"At least tell me where it is."
"Back. Left shoulder."
Simmons had never seen Grif move so quickly. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Grif was stripped to the waist and craning his neck to see his shoulders.
"I can't see anything," he grumbled at Simmons who was definitely not staring. Grif noticed and smirked. "Like what you see?"
"Yeah, nice tramp stamp," Simmons giggled. He fucking giggled!
Grif saw red for a moment and crowded into Simmons space. "You're an asshole," he growled, but it did not stop the laughing. "I'm going to kill you," he said before realizing that getting this close to Simmons was a bad idea because that smile and laugh were a rarity and it made the urge to kiss him difficult to ignore. "I'm going to kiss you." That stopped the laughter instantaneously.
Nervously, Simmons asked "Which one is the li-" he was cut off by Grif answering his question with a kiss.
Grif had waited so long to do that. Now, he decided, he was going to kiss Simmons as often as the nerd would let him. And if the stupid grin currently plastered to Simmons' face was any indication, then there was going to be a lot more kissing in the two red team members' futures.
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Grif stared at Simmons in shock. Surely he must have misheard him, because there was no way he could have said what Grif thought he did.
"What do you mean, no?"
"I mean exactly what I said," Simmons huffed. "I am not marrying you. No."
"Why the hell not?" He was deeply hurt and it came off as anger.
"We're fighting a war! This is neither the time nor the place for that."
"We're always fighting a fucking war!" Grif shouted back. "The aliens, the blues, the mercenaries, and whatever new set of assholes that we're going to fight next. There is never going to be a perfect time as long as we're in this god-forsaken army! Which is why we need to take whatever happiness we can get while we can. And believe it or not, what makes me happy is your nerdy ass."
"I said no Grif. I'm done talking about it."
"Well I'm not."
The fight that followed resulted in the pair not speaking for the next three days. It took another two before Grif managed to coax Simmons back into sleeping in their bed again.
The truth was that while still mad, Grif had been having trouble sleeping without his bedmate as he had grown accustomed to. While things were definitely still awkward between them, it felt right to have Simmons, even a fuming Simmons, at his side again.
They stared at the ceiling in the darkness. A silence hung heavy in the air where once there would have been words like ' do you ever wonder why we're here?'
Grif couldn't stand it, and despite knowing that it was a bad idea, opened his mouth and spoke anyway. "What if things were different?"
"But they're not."
"Just humor me. Pretend for a moment that it was all over tomorrow and we got to go home. Would you marry me then?"
"The war isn't going to be over tomorrow, Grif," Simmons sighed.
"But if it was?"
The uncomfortable silence filled the air again. Then quietly, almost a whisper "no."
"Why? I want an answer Simmons, a reason," Grif demanded. "A real one. None of this crap of but we're in a war. The entire time we've known each other there has been a war. Do you not-"
"Don't. Don't say it," Simmons interrupted.
"Fine," Grif sighed, loosing what little fight that was left in him. "We've been together for years and I've never told you," he stopped himself. "You know it, I know it, hell, the whole god-damned universe probably knows it by now, so I guess it's not necessary to say, but I would really like to. Just once." With that he stood up, mumbled something about a walk, and didn't return until morning.
There were bullets whizzing all around him, and Grif hardly seemed to notice. He had fucked things up big time with Simmons that morning and he hadn't yet figured out how to fix it. He still couldn't believe that he had given Simmons an ultimatum. But they had been fighting again, and the words just slipped out. He hadn't meant it. Well the first part yes, but not the rest.
"You made me the happiest person I've ever been in years. Now you do nothing but hurt me. So either say yes or end this. Put me out of my misery one way or another because I can't do this anymore with you Simmons. I just can't." He had hoped that this time Simmons' answer would be different. It wasn't.
And then they were under attack, because of course they were. No time to take back his words or make Simmons see reason. Just bullets and fighting and more god-damned war that he had never signed up for in the first place. He just wanted to get away from it all and take Simmons with him. He was sure he could show the nerd that not everything in life eventually turned to crap. They were good together, good for each other, and away from all the shit that came with war, Grif knew that they could actually be happy too. Truly happy. Not just for brief moments in between the bullets, but all the time.
He looked over at the maroon soldier and just for a moment allowed himself to imagine what their lives could be like, which is when Simmons fell.
The world stopped, or at least Grif's breathing did, but Simmons still hit the floor.
Grif didn't remember moving. Simmons was just in his arms and bleeding. "Simmons. Fuck. No. Damnit. No no no no no. Simmons don't you dare," Grif growled. There were hands on his shoulders that Grif didn't feel, words that went unheard.
That stupid quote from that stupid argument a lifetime ago was on repeat, ringing in his ears like a broken record.
All is as it was meant to be.
But Simmons wasn't supposed to be dying.
Lonely and terrifying.
What was he supposed to do without him?
Unfair and fleeting.
He was going to take him away from all of this.
Don't worry.
"He's gone."
Don't worry. Don't worry. Unfair and fleeting.
"I just can't do this anymore." "I'm going to kiss you." "When you wish upon a star." "Life deals crappy hands to everyone. That's why people do things that make them happy."
Lonely and terrifying. Unfair and fleeting.
He's gone, he's gone, he's gone.
"Fuck you," Grif said to the body in his arms, barely holding back sobs as he spoke. "I love you. And fuck you for never letting me tell you that."