Over the next few days, Sarge insisted on continuing to 'teach' Maud various lessons in safety, physics, mathematics, and other such skill sets...all of which somehow resulted in Grif getting shot at, thrown through the air, blown up, smashed into a wall, other painful experiences, or some combination thereof all at once. Church simply found himself watching in amazement at how this all happened, especially as Grif so far seemed to be the one Red soldier Maud was starting to grow fond of (Church privately suspected this was why Sarge was now focusing on causing harm to Grif, out of jealousy), and yet she seemed to enjoy watching him get hurt as part of her teaching experience. Admittedly she always had Doc there as soon as it was over to patch Grif up - even if Doc himself didn't know he was there until Maud told him to go patch up Grif - but it was still somewhat disturbing.
He'd gone up to the roof of Red Base to try and clear his head and make sense of this behavior that didn't lead him to concluding that Maud was turning into a mini-Tex and what that might say about how Tex would act towards him if she ever showed up in Blood Gulch. However, it wasn't long after he'd gone to do that when he saw Grif and Simmons moving up to a different part of the roof, and couldn't help but overhear their conversation.
"Simmons, can I talk to you about something?" Grif asked worriedly.
"Do you want to talk about why we're here again?" Simmons asked idly.
"No, this is more important," Grif replied calmly. "And...more personal."
"Well...alright," Simmons allowed. "I'll give it a shot."
"I'm worried I'm becoming a masochist."
Church was very glad he wasn't drinking anything at that moment.
"You're...what?" Simmons asked in surprise. "Why?"
"Well, a masochist is someone who enjoys getting hurt, right?" Grif pressed.
"Actually, a masochist is specifically someone who takes sexual gratification in being injured or humiliated," Simmons clarified carefully. "Well, that's the usage most people think, anyway. Technically, it's a broader term and can encompass someone who enjoys an activity that seems painful or tedious."
"Like how you enjoy dusting shelves in the Base?" Grif pointed out. "And polishing the floors? And-"
"Only in the broadest sense," Simmons growled irritably. "But...yes. Why do you think you're becoming a masochist?"
"Because I enjoy making Maud smile."
Simmons turned to look directly at Grif. "I...don't think I follow."
"Remember Maud's physics lesson?" Grif offered happily.
"You mean when Sarge taught her to build a catapult to launch you into the air so he could shoot you, to teach Maud about the principles of levers?" Simmons clarified. "Or the one where he said you were equal to me times 2 because you were as fat as ten men - which you honestly aren't anymore since you started...mining, was it? - and blew you up in an attempt to make two of me?"
"Yes," Grif confirmed ruefully. "Thing is...I was actually eager for going again after I saw that me flying through the air like that put a small smile on Maud's face. If it made her happy, if she enjoyed watching me going through all of that...then I wanted to keep doing it, no matter how much it hurt. ...does that mean I'm turning into a masochist?"
Simmons thought about that for a time. "Do you actually enjoy the pain, or just the end result of Maud enjoying herself?"
"End result," Grif confirmed quickly. "Though...getting flung out of a catapult was kinda fun. Getting shot in the nuts on the way down...not so much."
"Then I don't think you're a masochist so much as an amazingly good big brother," Simmons allowed. "And possibly just a tad whipped."
"...whipped, huh?" Grif mused thoughtfully.
"Why'd you talk to me about it, anyway?" Simmons asked curiously.
"A few reasons, really," Grif replied readily. "Mostly to do with why I wouldn't talk to anyone else about it. Maud's too young to even learn what 'masochist' means..."
"Agreed," Simmons replied with a nod.
"I definitely don't get along with Tucker, and you can imagine how he'd react if I asked him if he thought I was becoming a masochist."
"Endless pain-sex jokes, teasing, hazing, and calls of Bow-Chicka-Bow-Wow?" Simmons offered ruefully.
"Exactly," Grif agreed. "Doc or Flowers would probably try to psychoanalyze me completely...or try and 'fix' me. Definitely not something I need."
"And I don't even want to imagine how Sarge would react if you talked to him about being a masochist," Simmons insisted fervently with a shudder.
Grif was silent for a time. "...that's something to think about for later," he admitted finally. "But you know I'm a deep thinker, and we were in basic together. I know I can talk to you about things, and you'll listen and comment intelligently, even if sometimes it'll be boring or only tangentially connected to what I asked you about, and you might end up going off on a rant on a subject I don't understand...well, you'll still care about what I have to say. You're...you're the closest thing I have to a friend in this canyon."
Simmons stood in stunned silence for a time. "W...wow, Grif," he managed finally. "I...I don't know what to say..."
"Then say nothing," Grif suggested. "Just take the compliment."
"...thanks," Simmons said finally as they both stared out at the canyon. After a time, Simmons spoke up. "You didn't mention trying to talk to Church."
"Oh, right," Grif responded jokingly. "How would that go? 'Hey Church, I think your daughter is turning me into a masochist! What are you doing with my small intestine? I don't think it has that much tensile strength!'"
Simmons laughed with Grif. "Okay, yeah, I see your point there," he allowed warmly. "But hey! Maybe you should try talking to Sarge about these things as if you really were a masochist? Like, as a prank?"
Grif turned to Simmons. "Simmons, there are days where I really like the way you think. This is one of them."
Church stayed very quiet, doing his best to pretend he hadn't heard any of that.
"Alright Maud!" Sarge roared out later that day. "It's time for your lesson in medicine! Now where is Grif? I need visual aids!"
"Here I am, sir!" Grif called out as he walked up, Simmons following behind him. "And I had a suggestion for how to do today's lesson!"
"Oh?" Sarge asked in surprise. "Alright, let's hear it."
Grif held a leather whip out to Sarge. "I was thinking you could teach Maud about medicine by giving me a hundred lashes or so to demonstrate how flesh bruises, blisters, and scars before teaching her how to treat it. You'll need to make them good and hard though, since I don't bruise easily."
Sarge stared at the whip hanging from Grif's outstretched hand, and then took several steps back. "Maud, we're going to go find Doc, and he's going to teach you what he can about medicine...far away from Grif!" Turning, he raced off.
Maud gave Grif a brief, small smile, and then followed sedately after Sarge.
Chuckling, Grif shot Simmons a thumbs up.