Red Vs Blue Book of One-Shots

Lullabies

Picture this:

It's a hot, sunny day in a hot, sunny canyon, where it is literally impossible for the sun to set.

Until an intergalactic storm races through and fucks up Simmons' whole day.

But of course, the manly and never terrified Simmons wouldn't be afraid of storms. It's not like storms made penetrating rockets of water droplets, or loud claps of rumbling thunder, or fucking electricity that shot out of thin air and disappeared without any predictability.

He was... just stressed, is all.

So Simmons took the normal precautions for being 'stressed'.

A ridiculous amount of blankets?

Check.

An embarrassing cuddle buddy bear from childhood?

Check.

Earplugs?

Check.

So far so good, Simmons though as he looked at his doomsday prep kit. It was like he was ready to take on a giant screaming banshee.

Settling into bed, Simmons pulled the blankets up to his chin, and shoved the uncomfortable earplugs in. He cradled his cuddle buddy and closed his eyes, hoping he could sleep without a pesky storm getting in the way.

He was about to fall into the bliss of unconsciousness and ignorance, but then a planet-shaking roar of thunder cursed their canyon and Simmons jolted into reality.

"Fucking- shit..." Simmons mumbled as he realizes that he couldn't hear himself talk with the earplugs. The thunder was so loud that it had intruded his perfect system of avoiding it.

Well fuck.

Simmons had already accepted that sleep was a wish that night, and he burrowed himself further under the protecting cloths, knowing they could possibly (unlikely) protect him from Zeus's fucking trick-shots.

~~~~~

Grif was from Hawaii. He's seen weather at its best and worse, and tonight was no different. He predicted the storm about four hours ago when him and Simmons were in the roof.

"Hey, is that a storm cloud?"

"Don't be silly, we're in desert climate."

"Dude, look."

"... Fuck."

Simmons had rushed of to prepare, much like he always does in uncontrollable situations. Grif didn't mind the small taps of water against the roof- in fact, he welcomed it. It reminded him of home.

But the thunder and lightning were a little more unwelcome. After a some rumbles and flashes of white, Grif thought they had entered the eye of the storm, where it would get calm and worse again.

But they weren't even an inch though.

A drum of thunder hit the atmosphere, sending a jolt of surprise to Grif's nerves.

I mean, who wouldn't get scared at that?

As Grif readjusted his sleeping position, ready to go to dreamland again, a soft whimper came from behind his headboard.

Simmons' room.

Grif sighed. He had figured that this problem would arise when they saw the storm cloud. Maybe he'll grow used to it after-

Another thunder clap. Another whimper.

"... Ah, fuck it."

Grif grabbed his pillow and waddled over to the dork's room. Much to his surprise, Simmons was no longer attempting sleep. He was awake, alert and afraid, hugging his knees into his chest and shaking.

Grif knocked on the door as if to announce his presence.

"Hey buddy, I'm going to crash here for the night." Grif stated.

The second Simmons heard the knock, he scrambled to recollect himself, as if he thought he's gotten away with his crying.

"Why are you in my room?"

"I told you, I'm crashing here." Grif repeated.

"Why?"

Grif was about to point at Simmons, but he hesitated. He knew that Simmons would probably push him out and refuse help, so he decided to go a... different route.

"Uh, I'm afraid of thunder storms." Grif said blandly, but according to Simmons' cocked head, it was convincible enough.

"Please let me stay?" Grif begged, but he cringed realizing how desperate he sounded.

Simmons nodded anyway, though. Even though Grif would call Simmons an asshole, he was an asshole with a big heart.

Grif gave a quick 'thank you' nod, and threw his pillow on the floor, when Simmons interrupted his complex sleeping arrangement.

"Grif, you're not sleeping on the floor!"

"I'm not?"

"You- Agh! Just get up here, idiot." Simmons demanded, throwing some of the blankets down to give Grif a way to lay down. Skeptical, Grif still put his pillow on the bed and shimmied his way under the crushing weight of warm cloths.

And for a moment, there was contempt.

Then a fucking shit-storm of thunder again.

Simmons' body was possessed for a second, Grif thought. He jolted in fear, then jolted because he scared himself from jolting, then shook in the aftermath because he was trying to clam himself down.

'Fucking useless teddy bear, help me!' Simmons thought, curling into a tighter ball.

That's when Grif's arms wrapped over him, almost as another blanket, and for once in a storm, Simmons found peace.

It was awkward as hell, but as long as it stopped him from shaking, he didn't mind.

"Hey... Simmons? You doing alright?"

"I-I'm fine, Grif, just still a little on edge."

Grif nodded, or Simmons felt him nod, because he was pulling Simmons in closer by his waist.

So this is what cuddling was like.

Simmons' eyes fluttered, on the brink of sleep, when-

"Mr. Fantastic, Something bombastic-"

"Grif what the fuck are you-"

"I don't know any lullabies okay?"

"You- Wh- I'm not fucking five!"

"No, but you act like one."

"Oh, that's it, come'ere, you little-"

"I'm kidding, I'm kid- OW, fuck!"

"There, we're even... now go to sleep."

(THUNDERSTORMS ARE FUN!!!

I HAD NO POWER FOR A COUPLE OF HOURS

WHOOP WHOOP

I should probably mention that Yangry and I were in this shitstorm together)