Title: Eternal Summer
Chapter: 8 – Questions Without Answers
Pairing: None Yet (Eventual Grif x Simmons)
Warnings: Swearing, Violence
Summary: Simmons isn’t the only one who’s not completely human.
Author’s Notes: Bet y’all thought I died, eh? Nop. Nothing like that… Just a little injury that involved pulling every muscle in my back. Since everything was so buiried by the time I got around to reading comments 😉 I’ll be doing a few responses from the perivious chapter here. I noramaly get alot of enjoyment out of the back and forth with the readers that I just didn’t get on chapter 7.
catc10: “I like crazywolflike!Grif.”
Honestly… I have this thing for growling… It rivals my thing for Cyborgs. I get both in this story. It’s nice.
tttroy: “i still can’t imagine cat monster with tentacles”
I acctually hijacked the looks of the Displacer Beast of D&D Fame. So I have a visual for you!
queenoflitrp: “T_T Mean lady. And here I thought SHE would be the voice of reason! But race barriers don’t break down that quickly.”
When I original sat down to write her… she was intended as the voice of reason… But those same race barriers kept interfeariing with the scene working with Nice!OldLady… As soon as I changed the angle of approch I was using with her, that moment suddenly fell into place. Those race barriers are acctually kinda hard to write… I don’t have alot of personal experinece with them…
A special thanks goes out to everyone else who took the time to comment. As much as I enjoy writing, the warm and fuzzy feeling of your support is always nice.
The lancing pain of lights too bright brought Grif suddenly to his senses. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was, but it definitely wasn’t laying on the ground in a jungle as he vaguely remembered having been. Instead he tried to make sense of the unfamiliar voices floating around him.
“Cy, why don’t you come home?”
“I can’t. She said I was supposed to stay here and make sure she knows as soon as he’s awake enough to be questioned.”
“How can you be so terrified of her. She’s nothing but an frail old thing with a cane.”
“No. She’s a wise old she-wolf who carries a cane so she can hit people with it when they don’t come close enough for her to claw their eyes out.”
“She’s Kade’s mother.”
“And he jumps whenever she barks an order too. Just like you should.”
“I think your Spartan is waking up.”
A shadowy figure drifted closer to him before it spoke. “He’s not mine, just go get Romy. I think he’s actually going to wake up for real this time.” The world cleared enough so he could make out a face that was somewhat familiar. The silver eyes dredged up a more vivid memory of a silver-haired man leaning over him with claws bared. It took a couple of minuets for his brain to catch up completely with events and settle on the mental image of a man in maroon armor.
“Where’s Simmons?” He tried to push himself up, but met resistance and was forced back down.
“You need to relax or you’ll send yourself out again. The other Spartan’s fine.” Cian frowned, looking over his shoulder as footsteps echoed down the hallway beyond the open door. “Answer her questions and she might take pity on you.” Then he turned and headed towards the door.
“You’re not going anywhere.” The old woman who entered spit the words out in a snarl, using the cane she was carrying to block Cian‘s path out the door and corral him towards a bench near the door. She didn’t wait to see if she was obeyed, just marched over to Grif’s hospital bed. The realization that he was hospitalized took him by surprise. How long had he been out? The growling old voice broke his mind back out of the thin fog that had descended. “How does a Kaelsar end up a Spartan?”
He gave her a confused look, not connecting things immediately. By the time the meaning of the question dawned on him the old woman was tapping an impatient foot. “I was drafted. Demented game of don’t-ask-don’t-tell. Didn’t screw up. Didn’t get executed.”
The answer seemed to satisfy by her, but she didn’t give him a chance to rest between questions and followed it up immediately. “Why have Spartans come to Kael?”
“Sheila blew up the teleporter. We ended up here somehow.” This time the answer came quicker, but it was chased by the all too familiar fog. It wasn’t as thick as it had been, but it was heavy enough to suck the will to respond further to the old woman’s continued demands for more information.
Kade, who’d joined them during the questioning, was seated on one end of the bench next to a quietly grumbling Cian “Romy, I think he’s out of it again.” Kade voiced the younger Kaelsar’s words so his mother would hear.
“His story matches the others’.” She made no effort to hide her annoyance. “I have a disturbing feeling it’s true.”
“We should send word to the Council of Clans. They’ll be useful as leverage with the UNSC.” Kade rose, pulling Cian to his feet, too.
“Cian.” Romy’s snarl made him jump. “Is there any reason to continue keeping him here?”
“N.. Not really.” His voice wavered. “There’s nothing more that can be done for a Rasha bite except wait and see if he completely shakes it.”
“Then throw him in with the other and have done with it.” Anger filled the voice. “We’ve wasted enough time playing with Spartans.”
Simmons had been left with no choice but to admit that Kaelsar were obviously sadists. First being led around on a choke chain by one of his captors. Then a group of little kids attempting to stone him and finally being thrown in prison without being untied. They seemed to take a perverse joy in doing whatever they could do to annoy him once they’d stripped him of his armor and used whatever sort of ridiculously strong rope they used. The prison he was being kept in was tiny, with the “Cellblock” consisting of 2 cells separated by a wide hallway. The bars were made of a pale metal Simmons wasn’t able to place amongst those he was familiar with.
When the door opened his head snapped up and he took a deep breath, preparing to make yet another demand that he be untied. When they entered, however, he froze. Standing between the two larger Kaelsar with his arms tied behind his back was Grif. Bristling claws warned him back when the door was opened and Grif was shoved inside without ceremony. They did, However, take the time to cut Grif’s bindings. Once they left Grif stood unmoving and staring with unfocused eyes before sagging against the locked cell door. “Grif, are you all right?” Simmons made his ways to his feet as gracefully as he could, but had no idea what he was going to be able to do to help his teammate.
“Simmons?” He stared around, confusion plastered across his face. Then, something dawned on Grif. It was as if the thought grounded him and helped him find a grip on reality. “Why are you tied up?”
“Because Kaelsar are sadists.” Simmons glared when Grif started laughing at him. “Fine. You’re going to be a dick, too now?”
“No… Simmons…” The laugh vanished instantly, Grif holding his hands up in a mollifying gesture. “Just, Turn around. I’ll untie you.” When Simmons obeyed Grif took a single look and changed his mind. He saved himself time and carefully slit the ropes using one of his claws. “See, all better?”
“Get rid of the cage before you call it all better.” He rubbed delicately at the rope burns, watching Grif as he sat on the cell’s single cot. Grif looked pale and his eyes kept going unfocused. It was clear he was fighting to stay aware. “You look like you did right after that thing bit you.”
“From what they’ve been saying around me is that they’re venomous.” Grif gave a dismissive shrug, moving his feet so Simmons could sit down. “Have they tried to question you?”
Simmons nodded. “There’s an old lady that speaks English. She said some weird stuff, though”
“What sort of weird?” Grif leaned up on his elbows so he could look at the Cyborg.
“Most of it was normal. Telling me I’m useless if I don’t cooperate,, that sort of thing. But towards the end…” Simmons tried to remember the old hags’ exact words. “That I should hope that your claim is genuine. What was she talking about?”
Grif just watched Simmons for a moment. He bit his lip. “Aside from what I told you when we woke up, do you know anything about Kaelsar other than what you learned in basic?” When Simmons shook his head, Grif laughed. “Well, most of what they talk about is either half or completely false. Like they claim Kaelsar can’t take orders, or can’t work in squads.”
“You never take orders without argument.”
“That is because our Commanding Officer is Crazy. But part of what makes Kaelsar dangerous is that they work together.” Simmons waited for Grif to make a point, or expand on the answer. After a few moment he looked towards him. Grif’s eyes were open slightly, but with the glazed look he’d had kneeing in a pool of vicious violet blood.
“Hey.” Hazel eyes opened and cleared. “What about the old lady and her weirdness?”
“I was gonna get to that… Let’s see. Oh, yeah. But Kaelsar, they can work together. You got creamed because the three of them worked together. And on top of packs like that there’s Clans, too. “ He trailed off, and Simmons waited a few more seconds.
“Grif?” There was no response to Simmons’ voice, and the eyes were closed now. “When you wake up your answering the damned question.”