For Whom the Bell Tolls Part 2 (WIP)

"We, as in you and I, are going to meet God."

"Well, it's the only way that I can find out if you can get a do-over without breaking the rules!"

"Jesus Christ..."

"Doesn't exist. Turns out none of the organized religions were right, there is no path to righteousness, and every religious conflict was completely pointless."

"Well, I'll be damned."

"There's no damnation either."

"Shut the fuck up, Simmons."

"I-I'm just..."

"I said. Shut. The fuck. Up."

"You know what, I'm trying to do something nice for you, okay? would It kill you to be nice to me?"

"I don't know, Simmons. Is it possible to die twice in one day?" Grif was glaring daggers at Simmons, his arms still crossed. He was still standing in the middle of the living room, his lifeless body still lying on the couch.

Simmons gesticulated vaguely and opened his mouth to say something before letting his arms fall to his sides and saying, "Point taken. We should go, though. I hear God's pretty busy."

"And just leave my body here? What's gonna happen when Sis gets home? She's totally gonna freak out! Or... do nothing at all. She might not even be home for several days! I can't have maggots in my beautiful eyes!"

"Do you want a do-over or not?" Simmons asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I mean. Yeah, but. Can't you just leave me here to wait for her to get home while you go ask God or whatever?" Grif asked, looking at Simmons, wide eyed. He was scared now. It was all becoming real, and shit was seriously hitting the fan. He was dead and he was going to have to leave Kaikana behind with nobody to protect her. He was going to have to leave everything else behind, too, and on the off chance that he did get a do-over, he wasn't sure how much of a dick God was. Meaning that he didn't know if he would remember anything, or if he'd be reincarnated as the same person, or as a human....

"No, I can't. Once I leave, I can't come back for you. Something about interdimensional physics, I guess," Simmons replied, his voice softening. He could see that Dexter was scared. Coming to terms with the fact that they were dead rattled people. Simmons figured it was understandable though. Grif had probably spent his whole life not worrying about what would happen after he died. More worried about junk food, porn, and taking care of his little sister. And something about that was oddly endearing.

"Fuck. I... Fuck. Okay. Let's fucking go," Grif said with one last long look at his body.

Simmons looked at Grif for a moment then said, "Take my hand."

"What? No! That's so gay!" Grif said. Holding strange white dudes' hands (weird ethereal hands, no less), was not something that he was into.

"Oh, for fuck's sake Grif."