This chapter is dedicated to my bff Kaley, she single handily motivated me to write this chapter.

6. Help Me Help You

Grif was now sitting on Church's bed freshly out of the bath, he had a towel wrapped around his head and waist, air drying the rest of his body. He didn't feel like moving. The warm water and the feeling of finally being clean only did so much for him. The feeling of Sarge's touch was still there. Still ghosting across his skin when he thought back to last night. The numbingly constant feeling of pain was also still present, only sudden or awkward movements brought back the worst of it. He looked down at the ugly bruises across his stomach watching the way they seemed to dance as he breathed.

There was a gentle knock on the door followed by Church's voice asking if he was decent. Grif responded with a quiet 'I guess' and the door swung slowly open. "I brought you some clothes... and some bandages." Church held up a pile of clothes in one hand and the small first aid kit in the other. When Grif didn't say anything Church walked in and walked over to the bed to hand him the clothes and box. "Do you uhh need help with anything?"

"No." Grif stated not bothering to adjust his gaze from the wall to Church.

"Okay... umm.. well I'll just leave these here then." He set the things on his bed and walked back out closing the door.

Grif looked at the bedroom door as it clicked shut, then at the clothes and little box he left behind. The clothes consisted of a light blue t-shirt, black sweat pants, blue boxers, mismatched white socks and a gray hoodie. He wasn't sure how he felt wearing someone else's boxers, but it would probably beat going commando in someone else's pants. He climbed into them without another thought. The t-shirt however, made him hesitate as he pulled it over his head, it smelled strongly of Church. It was a pleasant fragrance, and some how made him feel more at ease. He inhaled deeply before pulling it the rest of the way down, and looping his arms though.

Moving on to the first aid kit, he fumbled with the stuck clasp a while before popping it open. The contents went flying, scattering across the bed. He sighed grabbing the gauze that would be going around his wrists. Antibiotic had already been put on earlier in the kitchen, but he had washed it all off at this point. He had scrubbed his whole body to the point of rawness. The pink lines mocked him, he could almost feel the cold metal stinging him. Reapplying the cream was easy, the wrapping became difficult. He held one end in between his teeth, while he wrapped. The dressing was either too tight or too loose, he became frustrated and gave up trying to make it perfect. Grif put his hands at his sides and stared at the blank beige wall. His thoughts were all muddled and he began to get lost in the them as he stared.

Grif didn't notice when the bedroom door lazily swung back open emitting Church. He just sat hunched over on the side of the bed staring, eyes half lidded with the light blue shirt pulled up over his nose. His hoodie draped over his head but was not on his arms or zipped up. The wrapping on his wrists had come undone and just hung loosely, pooling where his hands met the bed, not helping to cover the would be scars.

Church shifted his weight from one foot to the other contemplating whether or not to back out of the room. Instead he just cleared his throat.

Grif jumped and looked over sharply. His face turned vibrant red as he ripped the shirt collar from his face to back around his neck. "What?" he asked, voice cracking.

Church suppressed a smile. "I was just wondering if you were doing okay, you've been in here for almost 2 hours. I mean, I did knock... so … sorry for intruding on whatever you were doing?" A smirk managed to sneak onto his lips. 'What a weirdo.' he thought.

Grif rolled his eyes, he thought Church could have knocked louder. If he had in fact knocked at all. "Yea I'm fine. Thanks for the dry clothes." he muttered. Had it really been 2 hours? He didn't even remember what he had been thinking about, let alone when he had moved the shirt up around his face like that. How embarrassing.

Church moved and sat on the bed next to Grif. "May I?" he asked pointing to the bandages.

Grif resisted the urge to scoot away, he was too close to him and his mind was yelling at him to not let the blue touch him. "Sure.." he said anyway.

Church took the others wrist in his hands carefully undoing the gauze. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes.." he said quietly watching the Blue re-wrap his wrists. He was so gentle, his hands so warm.

"What would you like me to make you?" Church finished taping the bandages.

"Make me?" Say nothing he'll poison you. "I'll take whatever."

Church took an instant ice pack from the kit and broke it, making it cold. "Unfortunately we don't have any anti-inflammatory meds, but this should help the swelling." He turned the red's hand palm up and placed the pack in his hand.

The feeling of the cold of the pack spread across the palm of his hand, combining with the warmth of Church's hand gave him gooseflesh. Almost reluctantly he removed his hand from the others to place the pack on his eye. It was soothing. Grif watched through his good eye as Church went to picking up the mess of first aid supplies on the bed without question. His mind mused 'He's still going to trade you back to Sarge, no matter how nice he is being now you're still gonna end up right back where you were.' How nice.

"So have you thought about what you're going to trade me for?" His voice was hollow.

"I figured I'd just go kick his ass, and convince you to switch teams." Church said, a smile forced to his lips. Grif didn't seem to find it amusing in the slightest. "Or we could just say you died or ran away and then a mysterious new Blue shows up on our side. No one would know." Again not amused.

Grif wanted to indulge in Church's ideas but he figured it would be pointless he was somehow predestined to be stuck with his commanding officer until he killed him.

"Come on give me something here, I'm trying." Church cocked his head to the side slightly and reached up and patted Grif's hooded head playfully. He wanted so badly to help him past whatever torment his mind was putting him through.

Grif smacked his hand away, and Church's face flashed with hurt but only for a second. Grif saw it though, and he felt bad in return. The Blue was really only trying to help.

Please let me know what you think. It helps keep me going. 3