Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Redmond and Blutarch Mann were dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The registers of their burial were signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Gray signed it: and Gray's name was good upon ‘Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. The old Mann brothers were as dead as door-nails.

This is important, this is very, very important, for without the Mann brothers being dead, nothing in the story will make sense otherwise. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate.

Now, the news of the Mann brother's death was quick to spread, it spread far and wide to anyone who had access to a newspaper or television set. The Red team had access to both.

They learned the day after they had lost Engineer that the Mann brothers were dead, and that the war was over. They had expected the Administrator to reach out, they had expected Miss Pauling to stop by and give them some sort of explanation, contingency plan, final paycheck, anything.

Nothing had happened.

This bothered Spy.

This worried Medic.

This concerned Sniper.

The rest of the team was just plain confused, and rightfully so. What did they do about any of this you may ask? They kept looking for Engineer, for they had time to do so. They searched high and low, far and near, but in the end, they found nothing. This bothered the team greatly, but they didn’t give up.

As for Engineer, well, he was fine, and so was the Red Medic, who we will call Ludwig to avoid complete confusion, and the classic medic, who we will refer to as Lawrence, because he doesn’t like being called classic medic. I do hope this doesn’t cause confusion.

Anyway, I digress.

Engineer, Ludwig, and Lawrence are all alive, and in various states of both emotional and physical health. Due to the injuries Lawrence received, and the inability to leave the cave they were sheltered in, the three men were forced to stay and rest until Lawrence was at least stable enough to walk.

This took three days, and once he was well enough to stay upright with some assistance, they had all begun to walk back to the Red base. This was a painfully slow process.

Now, I hear you asking, ‘why does this matter? Why can’t we just jump into the story already?’

Well, because this is important.

Now, let us jump ahead in time… We’ll say it’s officially been one week since the Mann brothers' unfortunate murder. The Red team is confused, even a little frightened, but they’re ok. Engineer and his party… they’re tolerating each other while trying to get home. Even Archimedes is behaving himself, kinda.

Either way, it’s been a week since the Mann brother's death, as far as the Red team is aware the Administrator and Miss Pauling are MIA, and Engineer and his party are cold, annoyed, and ready to kill each other.

We got all this?

Good, because the hour is 2:14 am, the Red team is sleeping, and Gray Mann has some loose ends that need to be taken care of, and he has the money and connections to do it.

The dawn is nearly here, and nothing but stupid, wonderful, chaotic shenanigans will come with it.

My God, this is stupidly wonderful.

Chapter Text

Sleep was not an easy thing to come by, at least not during that time, but somehow, Spy had found it. Maybe his body and mind were finally exhausted enough to give in to that primal need, or maybe his constant fear of death had finally left him, allowing him some semblance of peace. Perhaps the presence of Medic finally gave him that true sense of comfort, belonging, and love that he’d been needing for far longer than he’d ever like to admit. Either way, he was asleep, deep, and sound.

Next to him, Medic also slept, safe, warm, and protected. There had been no sign of their enemies, and the paranoia that had wracked since his last battle seemed to have finally left his soul. This, and knowledge that he was well and truly loved, gave him such a feeling of indescribable peace, and truly, Medic’s heart had never been lighter. If only his pain were gone.

It still lingered, somehow, as if it were haunting his very soul, refusing to grant him true peace. There was no cause that Medic could find for this, it just did. He was starting to find that some days were just better than others, and that the more physical he was during the day, the worse the next day would be. It was infuriating, but at least he knew that it could be cured, after all, the uber had, at least for eight wonderful seconds. He’d recreated that moment three times since the last battle, once to test it, once to confirm his findings, and once just because he wanted to feel it.

He’d decided to stop ubering himself after the last attempt.

As for the rest of the team, well, some slept, some didn’t, but they were all at peace, and more importantly, they were all quiet. If the night had continued to go uninterrupted, Spy and Medic would’ve awoken feeling more alive than than they had over the last month. They would’ve greeted the day with fresh energy, healed minds, and rested bodies, ready to take on whatever challenge the day presented, and ready to continue the search for their missing friends.

That’s what would’ve happened, but that’s not what happened.

***

Beep, beep, beep, beep.

Spy groaned at the noise, before blinking a few times in a poor attempt to wake himself up. As previously stated, he had been fast asleep, holding Medic close to him while tightly wrapped in the blankets. At first, he had absolutely no idea what could be causing this noise, and he thought it was some bad dream, however the longer he tried to ignore it, the more aware of it he became.

Finally, he gave an irked sigh and looked around for the source of his awakening, peering through the darkness of his room with half lidded eyes. Upon laying eyes on a blinking device resting on his bedside table, his confusion only grew. He knew what it was, he’d placed it there many years ago in case anyone needed to get into the base while everyone was asleep. It only went off if someone was at the front door, and had rung the obligatory doorbell that was stationed outside. Why there was an obligatory doorbell was beyond him, but it was there nonetheless.

Spy continued to stare at the device for a long, long time, before letting out another irritated noise and getting out of bed, pausing for a moment as the cold air washed over him, then turning on a lamp in order to get dressed after turning off the device. If there was actually someone at the door, he would not address them in his boxers and tank top.

“Spy?” Medic asked in a sleepy voice, clearly not awake at all as he squinted at his lover, the light clearly paining his still sensitive eyes. Upon hearing him, Spy sighed tiredly and said, “Go back to sleep mon amour, I just need to take care of something, I will be back shortly.”
“Wohin gehst du?” Medic asked again, this time sitting up a bit more while wrapping the blankets around his shoulders. Seeing this, Spy smiled softly, before walking over and placing a tender kiss on his head while assuring, “There is nothing for you to worry about, I just need to check on something, then I will come right back, I promise.”

Medic continued to squint at him for a moment longer, before sighing defeatedly and getting comfortable again. “Are you sure you don’t need me?” he asked, a rather guilty expression now resting on Medics face. “Positive,” Spy promised, momentarily running a hand through Medic’s hair soothingly, “now go back to sleep, mon amour, there is no need for both of us to be cold.”
“If you insist…” Medic said quietly, and with that Spy kissed him once more time, then left to figure out what was going on.

As he walked, a tinge of fear couldn’t help but touch Spy’s soul, and he wondered if Miss Pauling was finally here to take what was hers. It had been a long time since he’d heard from her, and she wasn’t one for letting business go unfinished, it was against her very nature. Then again, he’d made it a week beyond his intended expiration date, so why one earth would she be here now? It didn’t make any sense, but nothing really did anymore.

Upon reaching the front door, Spy paused, and took one last moment to try and wake himself up a bit more. The base was dark, cold, and quiet, and Spy had just awoken from an incredibly deep sleep, one where he was warm, comfortable, and loved. The task of waking himself up before answering the door was impossible, but he had to try, such was his burden to bear.

With this in mind, he mustn’t be blamed for what he was about to say.

It was with great annoyance that Spy opened the hidden panel next to the Red bases front door, and pressed the button for the intercom so that he could communicate with whoever it was in the outside world. “AND JUST WHO THE FUCK IS THERE?!?!” Spy shouted into the intercom furiously, then waited very impatiently for his unknown guest to answer back. There was a moment of silence, before Spy groaned with further irritation before instructing angrily, “There is a small black button next to the doorbell, push it, then talk.”

“Oh, oh golly, sorry mister, I didn’t mean to wake you up, but uh, could I ask what establishment this is, for the records?” It was a semi familiar man’s voice, kinda high pitched with an annoyingly yokel, yet know it all inflection, if that was even possible. Spy knew that he knew this voice, but he just couldn’t place from where. All he knew was that he didn’t like whoever was outside at the moment, and that he wanted them to go away.

“The French Embassy, now who the hell are you?” Spy shot back angrily, again waiting very impatiently for a response. There were a few seconds of silence, and for a moment Spy believed that whoever was at the door had left. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

“The… The French Embassy? All the way out here? Golly, I didn’t realize you folks set yourselves up all the way out here… Are you sure this is the French Embassy?” Spy stood still in complete confusion and anger for about ten seconds, before shouting in disbelief, “Yes! Now I told you who I am, so why don’t you tell me who you are!”

“Oh, well fair enough,” the annoying man said, before explaining, “I’m the mayor of Teufort, but you can call me Mike! Anyhow, I was called in because we thought that a group of mercenaries working for the late Redmond Mann were living here, and well, since I’ve been dealing with their shenaniganry for the longest, the government thought it’d be a good idea to have me assist in taking them down. We were fairly certain this was the Red base, but well, you’re here and not the mercs, so there must be a mistake on my end.”

Spy was quiet for a moment, trying to let the information settle before he did anything brash. The mayor of Teufort? Here? To take him down? No, no the government was here to take him down, but why was the government here? Spy hadn’t messed with the US government in years, only a few times back when he did freelance work, and as far as he knew his team was innocent too. Granted, it was entirely possible that one of his teammates had done something to piss off the government, but they wouldn't have been able to do that, not with everything else that had happened in the past two months.

That’s when something dawned on Spy, something terribly frightening dawned on Spy… The mayor had said, ‘we’.

“I’m sorry, who’s ‘we’?” Spy asked with mild concern, already opening another panel to look through a hidden security camera. “Oh that’s simple,” Mike replied enthusiastically as Spy looked through the camera, “me and the army!”

To Spy’s sheer, and absolute horror, he found that standing outside the base, was in fact, the US army. From what he could see, there were several military grade trucks, jeeps, and a tank surrounding the base, along with one, maybe two platoons stationed as well. Every soldier there had their gun trained on the base, as if waiting for something to leap from inside and attack, each soldier wearing as much protection gear as humanly possible. Right outside the door stood Mike, sporting an incredibly stupid smile, while a few feet behind him stood who appeared to be the man leading the armed forces, a man who looked incredibly annoyed.

Spy just stared at this for a moment, both trying to wake himself up, and trying to figure out how he had allowed his base to become surrounded by this large of a force. There was an army stationed outside his base, here to eliminate him, and his team, and he didn’t know how they got there. He didn’t know what to do, what could he do? His base was surrounded by the US army, and he didn’t even know why.

Pauling.

This had to be Miss Pauling’s doing, it just had to be. He didn’t know why, he didn’t know how, he just knew that there was no one else who had the connections to pull this sort of stunt off. Maybe the Administrator put her up to it, maybe Miss Pauling had pulled a few strings to wipe out all of them to keep her secrets safe, or maybe she’d just been feeling petty. It didn’t matter, all Spy knew was that this had to be connected to her, one way, or another, but that didn’t matter right now, it didn't matter who had done what to cause this, all that mattered was that it was happening, and that Spy needed to get his team out of there, now.

“So… This is really the French Embassy?” Mike asked, ever animated in his facial expressions and inflections. For a moment, Spy paused, truly paused to think about what the next best move would be. He knew he needed to wake the base, and he knew how he was going to do that, but he couldn’t leave yet, not with so many guns pointed at his base. No, no he had to distract these men, at least for a little while, at least until he wasn’t the only one awake.

So, he did what any good actor would do. He improvised.

“Uh… uh, oui! Oui, zhis ees zhe French Embassy!” Spy exclaimed in the most overdone French accent he could muster, “And uh, and we are very, very busy zhe moment, so please, be gone from us, while we do our… our work! Au revoir!”

“N-now wait a minute!” Mike quickly objected, “I think it’s best if I have some confirmation! What kind of mayor would I be if I just believed that this is the French Embassy?”
“The convenient kind.” Spy muttered to himself, before quickly replying with, “What?!? You don’t believe me! Zhis ees outrageous! Zhis ees unheard of! You silly Americans, not believing your French allies! Our alliance will never recover from zhis blow, I hope you are happy!”
“Oh, oh golly, I didn’t mean to offend you!” Mike hastily apologized, “Honest I didn’t! But you gotta understand that this is government work, and all government work has to be notarized, that’s the law! You understand, dontchya?”

Spy simply ran a hand over his face wearily, and muttered a few very nasty curses under his breath before replying with, “Ah, I suppose you are right… Very well! I shall get you your paperwork! I will be back in five minutes, and if I am not back in five minutes, you may break in!”
Spy watched as Mike consulted with whom he assumed to be an army general, before turning back to Spy and saying, “Well alrighty! You’d better be back in five minutes!”
“Merci, Monsieur le maire, I will be back shortly.”

With that, Spy began to run like his life depended on it back to his room. His heart was pounding in his head, his mind in a state of pure panic and confusion as he tried desperately to rationalize what was going on. This just had to be Miss Pauling's doing, it just had to be, right? However, the ever constant question of ‘why’ seemed to debunk this theory entirely.

Why would Miss Pauling try to take out the entire team when she’d only wanted him? Even if she was aware that Sniper knew as much as he did, why not just call him in with Spy? Why would she kill Medic in the process of killing the rest of the team? She wouldn’t, that much Spy was absolutely certain of, she just couldn’t bring herself to do that. So then what was going on?

“Doctor! Doctor, get up! You need to get up!” Spy shouted as he ran into his room, ignoring Medic’s shriek of surprise as he quickly grabbed his revolver, cigarette pack, disguise kit, and invis-watch. He then ran to his nightstand, grabbed a radio and shouted into it, “Everyone, get up! We need to evacuate, now! Grab only what you need!”

“Spy, what’s going on?” Medic asked worriedly as he turned on the lamp, all while Spy grabbed an old newspaper from his dresser, along with a pen, and quickly began writing on it. “You won’t believe me if I tell you, just get up and prepare to evacuate!”
“Evacuate? To Where? Spy, what is going on?” Medic asked, a panic now present in his voice as he began to get out of bed. “Mon amour, I don’t have time to explain, find another member of the team, they know the plan.” With that, Spy ran finished his manic writing, then grabbed his radio and shouted again, “You imbeciles had better be getting up, this is not a drill!”

Before anyone could say anything, Spy rushed out of his room again, sprinting back to the front door with the newspaper in hand. The entire scenario was beyond stupid, beyond absurd, but Spy knew that before one could outsmart absurdity, one often first had to match it, which was why he’d forged a license to run the French Embassy.

“I’m back! I’m back, and I have zhe paperwork!” Spy gasped out, a bit surprised as to how out of breath he was from all his running. “Oh good! I was beginning to worry,” Mike said with great relief, “you see, my friend General Kickurass was starting to get just a bit trigger happy over here, but I assured him that you’d come through Mr. … Gosh, I never got your name! What’s your name Mister?”
“...Monsieur Bonaparte.”
“Ooo, ‘Monsieur’, how fancy! Anyway, could I have that paperwork, please?”

Hesitantly, Spy read over his rushed handwriting on the newspaper, then carefully slid it under the door. “Zhere! I trust everything ees in order, and I will be able to go back to my work!” Spy declared confidently, knowing full well that everything was not in order. He watched through the camera as Mike studied the newspaper, confusion growing on his face as he turned to consult the aforementioned General Kickurass. Though there wasn’t any audio, Spy could’ve sworn he heard the Generals absolute annoyance and bewilderment through the camera.

Finally, Mike turned back to Spy and said, “Um, this is just a newspaper with some French written on it.”
“What!?!? You are now disrespecting France's legal documents! How dare you! Mon Dieu, I shall have to move zhis embassy to Russia eef zhis disrespect continues!” Spy shouted in mock disbelief, before lighting a cigarette to calm his nerves. “Oh, oh golly Mr.- Oops, I mean Monsieur Bonaparte, I didn’t realize this was real! You see, we do things a little differently in the states, uh, we don’t write on newspapers-”
“What, so now we must do everything zhe American way!?!? Are we not allowed to express our culture!?!?”
“No! No not at all! I just-”

“SPY!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOIN’ ON!!!” Sniper shouted, and Spy nearly choked on his smoke as he spun around to face his good friend. “You can’t just radio that we need to evacuate, and not give a fuckin’ explanation!” Sniper looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, his shirt being a wrinkled mess, his hat barely staying on his head, and his hair was horribly disheveled. Only his aviators were on straight, per usual.

“I… you see… it’s just that… oh, just look outside.” was all Spy could bring himself to say, before stepping aside to show Sniper the camera, all while Mike continued to ramble on about how sorry he was for being rude. Sniper continued to stare at Spy for a moment, before walking over and looking at the camera, his curiosity momentarily overriding his frustration.

Sniper continued to stare outside for at least thirty seconds, just absorbing the situation while listening to Mike ramble on about being culturally sensitive.

“Well? Thoughts?” Spy asked, hoping that Sniper might have some idea as to how this was happening. Instead, Sniper slowly turned to look at him, something in his eye seeming very, very pissed. “Yeah, one…” Sniper replied coldly, before asking, “What did you do?”

“What did I do!” Spy shouted in furious disbelief. “Yeah! What did you do?!?” Sniper shot back, instantly getting in Spy’s face, “They’re ‘ere for a reason, and the only one dumb enough to fuck around with folks that high up in the food chain is you, now what did you do!”
“I didn’t do anything! I woke up and they were just here! Why does this have to be my fault!”
“Because half the shit that’s happened in the last month has either been caused by, or related to you, that’s why!”

“Sniper, this is not my fault,” Spy promised firmly, ignoring the initial string of the words, “I don’t know why they’re here, I don’t know what they want, and I certainly don’t know who sent them! If I did, I would tell you, but I don’t! All I know is that they’re here, and that we need to leave!”

Sniper looked over Spy in an attempt to find any lies, to find any tell that he might be lying, but he found none. With a heavy sigh, Sniper ran a hand over his face before looking back at the camera, where both he and Spy watched as the mayor and general argued over who knew what. If the situation wasn’t so dire, the argument outside might have been comedic.

“Alright, alright…” Sniper relented, taking a moment to run his hand through his hair to smooth it down a little, “Sorry for the accusation, this just felt like it had you written all over it… Fuck, we really gotta git outta here, don’t we?” Spy simply took another drag from his cigarette, and released the smoke while looking back at the outside world with a heavy heart. “I’m afraid so, this isn’t a battle I’m even going to consider fighting.” Spy confirmed gravely, to which Sniper merely sighed in defeat, before adjusting his hat nervously.

With that, Sniper stepped away from the camera, grabbed his radio, which he had brought with him, and began to explain to his team what the current situation was. “Alright mates, I uh, I got an explanation as to what’s happenin’, and uh… well, we’re fucked.”
“How encouraging.” Spy stated curtly, but Sniper simply ignored him. “To put it simply… ah piss… We’re kinda surrounded by the army right now, and uh… yeah, we need to git outta here, like now.”

As the two men waited for their team's response, Spy simply handed Sniper a cigarette, and the two began to smoke in comfortable silence. For a moment, they were able to ignore the threat outside, and simply revel in the fact that their lives were about to take yet another drastic turn, and that this time, it was beyond their control, nor was it their doing. It made no sense, and there was no clear way out, not yet anyway, so the only thing they could do was react, and absorb all the information they could. Unfortunately, there was next to no information for them to absorb as to what was really going on, so really, they could only react.

“What!?!?” Demo exclaimed through the radio, “The hell ya mean the army!?!? Why the bloody hell is the army here!?!?”
“The army!” Soldier then shouted, “As in the US army! Maybe they’re here to finally promote me! We must let them in immediately!”
“No, no Soldier, it’s uh, it-it’s the Russian army, they’re here to kill us.” Sniper quickly lied, which got yet another irked groan out of Spy, as well as a palm to the face.

“THE RUSSIAN ARMY!!!!” Soldier cried out in horror, “Dear God, they’ve finally invaded us… Someone get eyes on Heavy, we don’t need him seeing his old comrades and going Benedict Arnold on us!”
“Eh, good idea, why doesn’t someone make sure he’s awake… same for Scout for that matter.” Sniper replied nervously, ignoring the holes that were being bored into him by Spy.

“Heavy is not communist! Heavy is member of Red team, not communist!” Heavy quickly protested. “C’mon now Soldier, this ain’t the time for suspicions!” Demo argued, “Heavy’s been with us through thick an’ thin, he’s as good a man as there ever was, now we need to git outta here! Oh crap, I’m gonna go make the doc knows what the evac plan is, poor lad’s probably confused as hell!”

“I am,” Medic confirmed, “but I know what the basic idea is and what I should be doing. I am currently in the infirmary getting some supplies and meine medi-gun. Where should I meet you once I am finished?”
“We’ll all meet in the cafeteria,” Sniper answered, “once you’re finished with your work, see if you can help anyone else. Remember, grab only what you need!”
“Understood, I will see you there… Is Spy ok?”
“Yeah, yeah he’s fine, he’s currently distractin’ the blokes who’re tryin’ to git in… It’s actually pretty fuckin’ funny.”

“Merde!” Spy suddenly cursed, quickly turning back to the camera and saying through the intercom, “Well? What ees zhe problem? What ees taking you so long to leave?”
“Uh, I’ll get back to you in a moment, monsieur Bonaparte,” Mike replied, the sound of the general shouting angrily in the background putting Spy on edge, “me and the General are discussing some… well we’re havin’ some disagreements as to how to proceed, but I’ll be back with you shortly!”
“What the fuck was that accent?” Sniper asked in pure bewilderment. “I… I told them this was the French Embassy…” Spy admitted with shame, not looking forward to Sniper's reaction one bit.

Sniper just stared at him for a moment, a blank look on his face simply resting there for a moment, before he began to snicker. “Yes, yes I know, it was stupid, now get out of here get the base on lockdown before anyone breaks in.” Spy ordered harshly, but Sniper just continued to stand there and snicker, before he started to simply straight up laugh. “I SAID GET OUT OF HERE!” Spy shouted, and this time Sniper did turn and leave, still laughing as he walked. Before he truly left though, he turned back to Spy, and after taking a moment to compose himself, he managed to wheeze out, “And-and you wonder how you’re related to Scout!”

“GET OUT OF HERE!!!”

***

Once Medic was certain that he had everything he needed in the cafeteria, he quickly began to run throughout the base to help whoever else needed it. He didn’t have any personal items of value with him, all of that unfortunately still resided at the Blu base, so the only thing he focused on was assisting the others in getting their gear together. While that did mean he was doing a lot of running around, he hardly noticed it, too focused on the panic and adrenaline that was pumping through him to really pay attention to his body's cries to slow down.

He couldn’t afford to, his team needed him.

Their entire lives lay within the walls of this base, four years of memories, equipment, machines, and trinkets, now all needing to be sorted through and prioritized. It had been easy enough for Medic to determine what he’d needed, he’d simply grabbed a bag and threw his clothing, a first aid kit, several bottles of medicine, and a few good books. He’d then strapped himself with his usual battle gear, and he was ready to go. On the other hand, the rest of the team was a bit pickier.

Heavy hadn’t been hard to help, he’d actually started his packing as soon as Spy had made the first call over the radio, and all that had needed to be done was move his stuff to the cafeteria. Heavy had insisted that Medic instead help Demo, so that’s exactly what Medic went and did. Demo, despite not being overly materialistic, certainly had several items of sentimental value.

“Right, and the pipes’ll have to go here, the family crest’ll go there… mmm, maybe not, it’ll only take up room, but if I put me kilt here…” Demo muttered while trying to stuff his bags. “Herr Demo, is the instrument necessary?” Medic asked while grabbing a bag of grenades and sticky bombs. “Unfortunately it is, if me mother ever found out I’d lost it, she’d have my head on a stake!” Demo then froze, as an all too recognizable look of panicked guilt made its way there once again. “Demo?” Medic asked worriedly, and Demo could only do a quick double take over his gear before turning to Medic with an awfully guilty look in his eye.

“Lad, I know it’s a bit to ask,” Demo explained, sounding absolutely horrible about what he was about to ask, “but I need to call me mum and let ‘er know what’s goin’ down, could ya take me gear to the caf for me?”
“Of course,” Medic sympathized, “take all the time you need, I can get it there with a few trips.”
“Lad, ya’re doin’ me more than ya know,” Demo thanked as he ran out of his room, “I’ll owe ya for another time! Oh, and don’t mind eyelander!”
“What?”
“Just don’t mind ‘im!”

Once he was out of earshot, Medic just shrugged and continued to carefully move Demo’s gear, first taking the explosives, then his clothes, until all that was left was his truly personal belongings. However, he noticed that when he touched the eyelander, it began to glow a faint green hue, as if protesting him touching it. Medic made sure to pack it away rather quickly, sheathing it and grabbing the rest of Demos' personal items for his final trip to the cafeteria, all while ignoring the fact that the sword’s green glowing increased.

Once he was finally finished with hauling Demos gear, Medic took a moment to sit at one of the tables and breathe, inadvertently allowing his pain to wash over him in the process. It wasn’t sharp, not yet, it just felt dull and aching, as he’d done a hard workout the previous day. He hadn’t, he hadn’t really done anything yesterday other than train with a pistol, but good lord it felt like he had. It was horrible, and really it wouldn’t bother him so much if he knew why this was happening, if knew the cause of this inexplicable pain, but he didn’t. It just existed.

Surely it would go away though, he just needed more time, that had to be it, surely that was all. He’d been resting, he’d been allowing himself time to heal and recover, it was just a matter of time now, he just needed more time. A broken bone didn’t mend in a week, nor did any other major injury, and Medic had been broken, his very soul had been ripped from his body too many times to count, of course that had done something to him. He just needed more time, more rest, and more healing… right?

“There! I am packed!” Soldier declared after setting down his duffle bag and rocket launcher, causing Medic to instantly sit up, not wanting Soldier to notice his discomfort. “Are you packed, Medic?”
“Ja, I am helping the others right now.”
“That’s great to hear soldier, I am proud to have such a useful member on my team! Now, where’s Scout? I bet that slacker’s still sleeping!”

Medic thought about it for a moment, and he really couldn’t recall seeing the young man while he’d been running around. “I will go find him, you just make sure everyone else is ready to leave.” Medic instructed, steadily getting up as he did so in an attempt to keep the pain away. “I would love to, but there is an important call I need to make!” Soldier declared gravely, “I have a raccoon sanctuary that must be tended to while I am away, so I must leave them proper instructions, you understand don’t you?”
“I… I don’t, but I know that it’s important,” Medic replied with some confusion, before adding, “you’ll have to wait a moment though, Herr Demo is currently on the phone.”
“Blast! Well, if I have to wait, so be it!” With that, Soldier and Medic went their separate ways, each trying desperately to sort out their lives with what little time was life.

Once Medic reached Scout's room, he didn’t even bother with knocking, instead just letting himself in. He ignored the mess of clothes and other junk on the floor, and ran straight to Scout, instantly grabbing him and shaking him awake.

“Scout! Scout, you need to get up! We are evacuating!” Medic urged, stopping his shaking once he saw Scout open his eyes. “Wh-wh-huh??? Doc? Wh-what the fuck you doin’!” Scout exclaimed as he sat up, swatting Medic away in the process. “Scout, the base is currently surrounded by an army, either Russia’s or America’s, I’m not currently sure which, and we need to evacuate!” Medic explained quickly, before looking over at Scout's bedside table to see if he’d turned his radio off. “Please tell me this thing is on.” Medic pleaded as he grabbed it, happy to find that it was, and that Scout was just a hard sleeper.

“What?” Scout exclaimed as he turned on his lamp, “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”
“I know it doesn’t make sense right now, but all you need to know is that we’re evacuating,” Medic replied calmly, “you need to grab only what you need, and meet us all in the cafeteria. Do you need any help with packing?”
“Uh, uh no, no I got it, I know what I need,” Scout assured as he got out of bed, quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “just uh… crap gimme a moment…”
“It’s ok, just wake yourself and get ready, I have a radio if you need me.”
“Right, alright uh, I-I’ll get on that.” Scout said as he ran to throw some actual clothes on, stumbling over the mess in his room as he did so.

Medic was about to leave to join Spy at the front door, eager to help him with whatever he needed, when suddenly Scout shouted in absolute horror, “Oh crap!”
“Herr Scout?” Medic asked worriedly, watching as Scout started to stumble to the door, barely having put his pants on. “I gotta go help Pyro! He’s probably overpackin’ so bad right now it ain’t even funny!” Medic felt his own heart freeze in his chest, the thought of how Pyro must be taking this news hurting his heart even more.

“Don’t worry about him, worry about yourself,” Medic ordered, quickly running to the door to assist Pyro, “I’ll take care of Pyro, you just make sure you’re ready to go.”
“You sure doc? I-I know ‘im pretty good, and know he’s probably freakin’ out so bad right now! I just wanna-”
“Scout,” Medic said calmly, placing his hands on his shoulders as he did so to center the young man, “I will take care of him. I am ready to leave, and you are not, you need to help yourself before you can help him. Get yourself ready first, then can you join me, ja?”
“I… I just don’t…”

Ultimately though, Scout simply let out a frustrated breath, before relenting to the situation at hand, once again allowing logic to prevail. “Alright, alright doc you win, but I will be down there as fast as I can!”
“I am sure of it,” Medic said with a small smile, before promising, “and in the meantime, I swear I will take care of Pyro.” Scout simply gave a firm nod in return, which Medic took as a sign that he could leave Scout without fear of him following.

It didn’t take long for him to find Pyro, though the state in which Medic found him certainly surprised him. Pyro had grabbed a cart from the garage, and had managed to load every single one of his stuffed animals, all his drawing supplies and notebooks, all of his different flamethrowers, all his melee weapons, the blanket and pillows from his bed, and what appeared to be three toolboxes on to it. How it was all balanced, or how Pyro had managed to do this so quickly, was far beyond Medic.

As Pyro pushed his entire life down the hallway, barely managing to keep it moving straight and balanced as he went, Medic could feel his heart starting to hurt within him, knowing that he’d have to be the one to stop Pyro’s impossible quest. He didn’t want to, he wished that there was some way to allow Pyro to take all these things with him, truly he did, but he knew that unfortunately, this just wasn’t the case.

“Pyro? Pyro, what are you doing?” Medic asked softly, causing Pyro to stop and look around his belongings, instantly greeting him warmly, before hurriedly indicating that he needed help with moving the belongings. “I… Is that everything you own?” Medic asked as he walked over, quietly looking over the impressive pile as he did so. Pyro proudly declared that it was, before making another noise, again asking for help as he began to push his cart again. “This is… this is all necessary?” Medic carefully asked, causing Pyro to instantly stop.

Pyro didn’t look at Medic, instead he stood very still as the realization as to why Medic was really there dawned on him. He said something that Medic didn’t quite understand, but he knew enough to understand that Pyro wasn’t budging on what he deemed absolutely necessary. The silence was terrible, and Medic couldn’t help but hate himself at that moment, wishing that Scout was by his side to help him explain the severity of their situation.

“Herr Pyro,” Medic said softly, hoping, praying that he could get through to his friend, “I know that… that this base is your entire life, and that everything on that cart is your life… but you can’t take it all with you, it’s impossible.” Pyro was quick to protest, clearly promising that he could make it work, swearing that it wouldn’t be inconvenient, and that he knew exactly what he was doing. He was desperate, and it showed, but Medic understood, he understood exactly what he was feeling at that moment.

“Pyro,” Medic said again, still calm, still gentle, “I know this is sudden, and I know that this is confusing, believe me, I’m scared and confused too, but… Pyro, we’re going to be running, and we can’t run while we hold our entire lives, and you… Pyro, I know that you are unlucky enough to have your entire life within this base, that you don’t have the luxury of having bits of your life scattered around with family and friends in other places, but you being alive is more important than what you hold dear.”

Pyro then snapped at Medic, shouting in panicked anger as he tried to rationalize himself, trying to rationalize the situation and how he could make it work. Medic didn’t truly know what he was saying, he only knew that he was hurting, and that he was terrified. However, it went much deeper than that, for when Medic took a closer look at what Pyro was taking with him, he realized that it wasn’t just his things he’d packed.

The toolboxes he’d noticed earlier, he now recognized them as Engineers. He also began to see some of Engineer's gear in the cart as well, his shotguns and melee weapons mixed in with Pyro’s, along with is guitar. Pyro wasn’t just trying to save his life, he was trying to save Engineers.

“Pyro…” Medic began to say, but Pyro cut him off, continuing to argue, to protest, the fight back against the force that was threatening to take everything from him. Then, he said something in a particularly loud voice, his voice breaking midway through from his grief and fear, before he suddenly went quiet, his stance softening as this happened. He simply stood there in silence, and though Medic couldn’t see his face, he could tell that the reality of the situation was finally starting to enter his heart. As this happened, Medic could feel his own heart starting to break within him.

Before he could offer any comfort though, Pyro spoke again, softly this time, in what could be perceived as an apologetic voice. When Medic listened to him, he could’ve sworn he heard him say, ‘you do understand, don’t you?’, even though he didn’t understand a word of what he was truly saying.

He did, he did understand what Pyro was feeling, he did understand his fear, that fear of the unknown, the uncertainty, the pain that came with losing everything at once. It was a horrible feeling, for it wasn’t one that strung, not really, it just left this emptiness that was hard to truly describe, akin to getting knocked off your feet without warning. This mans, if Pyro was a man, entire life was built into this team, this building, and the equipment around him, of course it was all necessary to him, of course he wanted to bring all of it, it was almost a need.

When Medic had been forced to leave the Blu base, it had left him empty, it had left him with a hole inside him, but only for a little while. Yes, yes he would’ve killed to be able to go back and retrieve some of his more sentimental items, those relics from his past that were truly irreplaceable, but he just couldn’t. He was glad that Pyro had the luxury to choose what was absolutely the most important to him, he was glad that he, and the rest of the team, were there to help him walk through this. This was impossible, but not the true kind of impossible.

“Meine friend,” Medic said softly as he walked over to Pyro, “I know this is hard, very hard, but you can’t take it all with you. I promise you, we will take some of Engineer's things, the things we know he felt were important, that way when we find him, we can give them to him, ok? And as for your belongings… Well, why don’t we take a minute to sort through them, and figure out what you absolutely cannot leave behind, and then… and then we’ll hide the rest in the garage, so that no one hurts it, how does that sound?”

Pyro was quiet for another moment, looking over his life carefully, truly thinking about what the next move would be. He then carefully ran a hand over all of it, feeling everything within it tenderly, as if trying to memorize the exact feel of his life, until his hand came to rest on one of Engineers toolboxes. He then gave a heavy sigh, before finally looking at Medic, and giving him a nod, telling him that he was ready to let go.

With a gentle smile, Medic said with great softness, “Danke, for understanding, I really do wish there was more I could do…” Pyro gave a sad, yet understanding noise, before he carefully began to sort through his cart, as he and Medic began to sort through his entire life. Medic only prayed that whatever Spy was doing to buy them him, he could continue to do it for a little while longer.

***

“Alrighty then, me and the general have an ultimatum for you!” Mike declared with what Spy assumed as an attempt at a threatening tone. “Monsieur le maire,” Spy asked in a terribly irked tone, “do you even know what zhat word means?”
“Uh… yeah, it basically means, ‘do this or else!’ Am I right?”
“Oui.”
“Oh good! Ahem, anyhow, here’s the ultimatum: Either you open these doors, or we break in with force!”

Spy just groaned while running a hand over his face, trying to figure out exactly what he’d done for him to be cursed with dealing with this lunatic. Truthfully, he could name several things, but he didn’t feel like going through that list. For now, he just had to find a way to keep these men distracted, and from the looks of things, General Kickurass was about to take over the situation, and that wouldn’t leave him with any time at all. He could do this, he knew he could, he just had to think.

“Well, Mist- I mean Monsieur Bonaparte, what’ll it be?” Mike asked again, and suddenly an idea popped into Spy’s head. “Well,” Spy said with great conviction, “after much zhought, and even more consideration, I have come to realize zhat zhis ees not my call to make… For I am not zhe French ambassador, rather… I am zhe janitor.”

“The janitor!?! Oh! Oh, that explains everything!” Mike exclaimed with relief, “That’s why things have been so confusing, I’m not talking with the right guy! Golly, well thanks for the honesty, but could you maybe get the ambassador for me? It’s real important that I talk with someone who’s got some authority.”

Spy looked through the camera to see what was happening, and he watched as the general marched away in fury, clearly going to debate what to do next with someone who had more than two brain cells. Good, he had a little more time.

“But of course, Monsieur le maire, let me get him for you.” Spy assured, then stepped away from the intercom to smoke some more. He very well could change his voice and pretend to be the French ambassador, but there were things he needed to take care of, and the longer he was here, the smaller his window of time became. Besides, any one of his teammates could simply put on a fake accent and distract the idiot outside, and it wasn’t hard to imagine just who could pull it off.

With that, Spy grabbed his radio, and said into it, “Scout? Are you packed yet?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m packed, I’m on my way to help Pyro right now, so can it wait?” Scout replied, sounding like he was currently sprinting down a hallway. “Unfortunately not, there is business I need to attend to, and I need the idiots outside occupied, can you come to the front door?”
“Ah crap, gimme a moment… Hey Pyro, you good dude?” Scout asked over the radio, and Spy would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a bit of pride for how Scout prioritized his friend.

Through the radio, Spy could hear Pyro giving a somewhat melancholy affirmative, before Scout said, “Alright Spy, I’m onma way.”
“Good to hear, now hurry.” Spy ordered, before asking Sniper, “Sniper, what exactly are we surrounded by?”

“Uh… I see two tanks, lotta soldiers, lotta trucks, and uh… yeah that’s ‘bout it, no choppers.” Sniper replied, before continuing with, “Oh, and I got the base all locked down, so if they try to get it, they’ll have a rough time doin’ so.”
“Excellent, now make sure you’re ready to leave.”
“Will do mate.”

A few minutes later, Scout sprinted in to where Spy was, looking like he’d rolled out of bed, quite literally, clearly not quite awake yet. “Alright Spy, wassup?” Scout asked while trying to catch his breath, before promptly shoving past Spy to look outside upon seeing the camera. “Holy shit! We’re fucked!” Scout exclaimed with some panic, before taking a second look and shouting in disbelief, “Is that the fuckin’ mayor of tuefort?”

“Unfortunately,” Spy confirmed, before grabbing Scout and pulling him back so that he could look him in the eyes, “now listen, because what I’m about to ask of you is very important. What I need is… oh mon Dieu… What I need is for you to… to pretend to be the French Ambassador.”

Scout stared at him for several long, terrible seconds, before simply asking, “Huh?”
“I… I told them that this was the French Embassy, and I just told them that I would get the Ambassador. Normally, I would be inclined to play that part as well, but there are things I have to take care of, and I cannot distract these lunatics while I do that, so… Uuuuggghhh… I need you to pretend to be the French Ambassador until we are all ready to leave.”

Spy was suddenly hit with a sense of deja-vu as he watched Scout stare at him blankly for a moment, before he burst out laughing, simply unable to throw out his usual insults. “Yes, it was stupid, yes, I regret it, no, I was not awake, now get to work.” Spy ordered as he walked away, letting some smoke blow from his lips as he did so.

“W-wait, wait Spy, Spy I gotta question!” Scout said between fits of laughter, “You-you really mean it? I can make funna France without you killin’ me afterwards? I can really do that?”
“Yes, just make it convincing.” Spy confirmed wearily, watching as Scout continued to laugh, before radioing, “Pyro, Pyro man you gotta git up here, I’m about to make funna France cause Spy said that this was the French Embassy, and now he’s stuck in his lie!” Spy listened as Pyro gave a whoop of excitement, seemingly promising to Scout that he’d be there as soon as he could.

“Ya said what?” Demo asked over the radio, and Spy watched as Scouts paused for a moment, before laughing even harder than before. “Spy…” Heavy began to say, clearly sounding disappointed, but he said no more, clearly having better things to do with his time. “Just keep going with your business!” Spy snapped harshly into the radio, before shoving Scout towards the door in an attempt to get him back on track.

“Why the hell would anyone believe this was the French Embassy?” Demo asked again, clearly not understanding the urgency Spy was trying to get across. “Because it’s the mayor of fucking Teufort, that’s why!” Spy shouted, trying to block out Scout's howls of laughter, “Now for the love of all that is good and holy, stop talking to me and focus on getting out of here!” With that, Spy walked away while temporarily turning off his radio, not wanting to listen to the idiocracies that were about to ensue.

Instead, he quickly made his way to the med bay, intent on destroying any and all files and documents that were within it. Once he grabbed everything he could find, he quickly made his way to his smoking room and began to light a fire, before going to his desk and retrieving any and all files he had within it. After he was certain he had everything, he threw the papers into the fire, before going back to his desk and opening a large drawer which contained a safe, quickly unlocking it and retrieving at least three thousand dollars in cash, a few fake passports, and an emergency pack of cigarettes. After he’d done this, he walked back to the fire to make sure everything had properly burned, then got up to leave, but found himself pausing as he did so.

Despite himself, despite the fact that he’d prided himself on his ability to remain unattached to such pleasantries, he found himself growing sad over the fact that this would be the last time he would ever stand in this room. He’d spent a lot of money making it perfect, into transforming it into his perfect sanctum, and he couldn’t deny that after a long day of fighting, the knowledge that he had this space waiting for him brought comfort. So many memories lay within these walls, so much time spent just enjoying the peace and relief this room brought him, and now it was over.

Never again would he lean against the wall near the fireplace and talk with Sniper about everything and nothing, never again would he sit in his leather chair and simply smoke while reading a good magazine, content to drift away into the peace of nothingness, and never again would he sit at his desk and talk to Charlotte about life and all the trivial things that came with it. That was all over now, and slowly, this room would grow dusty, and the once expensive adornments would rot away into nothing as time took its inevitable toll. That saddened Spy more than he thought it would.

With what little time he had left, Spy walked over to his liquor shelf and grabbed the most expensive wine on it, and walked to the center of the room. He then opened it, and lifted it in a toast to the memories and comfort this place had given him, before taking a drink from the bottle, and pouring the rest on the ground, thoroughly ruining the floor. “Merci, pour les souvenirs et le réconfort... Adieu.”

Once he finished with his farewell, Spy left his smoking room, shutting the door behind him as he went, and raced to the cafeteria to assess the situation. He found that Demo, Heavy, and Sniper were there, each looking ready to go, however, the fact that Medic was unaccounted for worried him. “Doctor, where are you?” Spy asked into the radio with some concern, trying not to worry about what Scout was doing, or worse, saying.

“I’m with Pyro right now, we’ve just finished hiding his things and will be joining you at the cafeteria shortly.” Medic replied, sounding just a bit too pained for Spy’s liking. “Are you alright, mon amour?”
“I’m fine, just out of breath, I promise.” Medic insisted, but Spy didn’t believe him for a moment. “Doctor, what’s wrong?”
“Spy, I’m fine.” Medic’s reply was curt and quick, causing Spy to feel just a bit embarrassed for pressing him so hard over the team's radio channel.

Truthfully, he knew that Medic wasn’t alright, and that he hadn’t truly been alright since before he was captured, and that worried him. What made him worry even more was the fact that Medic tried to hide it from him, always insisting that he was ok, always promising that he was better than he truly was. It was terribly ironic that Spy wished that Medic would be honest, and he knew it, but this wasn't about personal history or secrets, this was about his wellbeing, his health. However, he couldn’t force Medic to talk, and he understood if it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about over the radio channel. He just hoped that he really was ok, at least for now.

“Um, we gotta fuckin’ go.” Scout suddenly declared through the radio, sounding rather terrified as the sound of him running echoed through the radio. “And what the hell did you do to make them react so quickly!” Spy demanded to know, panic and frustration starting to mix into one emotion. “I dunno! Me and the mayor were havin’ a great chat about taxes and how to avoid doin’ ‘em, and the next thing I know that general guy shoved ‘im outta the way, and said he was takin’ over!”

Suddenly, the entire base shook as what sounded like thunder erupted from the outside of the base, causing the group in the cafeteria to startle. “Welp, I think that’s a tank.” Sniper said while adjusting his rifle on his back nervously, before Soldier ran in looking a bit panicked. “The Russians are breaking in! We need to leave now!” he shouted as he ran to the fridge, quickly trying to move it in order to gain access to the secret path behind it.

“Not until tiny doctor, Scout, and Pyro are here.” Heavy ordered calmly, and Spy looked nervously towards the doors, instinctively lighting another cigarette to calm himself. “That doesn’t mean we can’t get ready! Now help me out!” Soldier ordered, still trying to move the fridge out of place.

The secret path behind the fridge had been dug out by Soldier and Pyro when they’d first moved into the base, because, according to Soldier, no base was complete without an emergency exit. They two men had worked tirelessly on it for over a year, until they’d managed to dig two miles worth of tunnel that dumped them out somewhere in the woods. Upon its completion, Spy had personally inspected it, then had come up with what was the current evacuation plan. He’d inspected the tunnel earlier that month, so as far as he knew, it was still standing.

While Heavy and Soldier moved the fridge, another shot was levied at the base, once again shaking its bones. This time, Spy quietly handed Sniper a cigarette, who gratefully took it and began to smoke with some fervor.

“I’m here! I’m here, now let’s fuckin’ go!” Scout shouted as he ran into the cafeteria, nearly running straight into the tunnel before Heavy grabbed him by the back of his shirt, stopping him instantly. “Tiny doctor and Pyro are still gone, we wait.” he explained calmly, as yet another shot was fired at the base. “Piss off, where are they?” Sniper muttered nervously while exhaling some smoke, all while Spy continued to stand in silence, trying to maintain his calm exterior.

He didn’t like that they were taking so long, he just couldn’t understand what they were doing. The urge to run and find them was growing inside of him, but he couldn’t, not yet, he needed to have faith in his lover, and in Pyro. They were smart, they knew what they were doing, they were both competent fighters, they were mercenaries… but Medic wasn’t well.

What if something happened to him? What if somehow his pain worsened, or if somehow the soldiers had breached the base and captured him? No, no he was being ridiculous, he was overreacting, but who knew, who knew what to believe anymore? Engineer had been fine, but that hadn’t stopped someone from taking him, and so had Ludwig. There had been no reason, they’d just been taken.

God dammit, where was Medic?

Then, as if answering his prayers, Pyro and Medic ran in, Pyro holding two stuffed animals, his gear, and a toolbox, and Medic, who was hauling a bag of Pyro’s clothes. “Oh Gott sei dank, you’re ok!” Medic exclaimed, dropping the bag as he ran and embraced Spy, who quickly held him back, thanking whatever god existed that Medic was ok. “Of course I’m alright.” Spy assured while breathing a sigh of relief, just grateful to have his lover back within his arms.

“Ok, can we go now? Like now? Like before we get pumped fulla lead?” Scout asked while trying to get out of Heavy’s grip, and Pyro answered his question for him by simply running into the tunnel while urging the others to follow. “Dude! Wait up ya freakin’ coward!” Scout shouted as Heavy let him go, quickly running after Pyro while adjusting his belongings, all while Spy gave another irked sigh, just for good measure.

The rest of the team was quick to follow, each making sure they had their gear and whatever else they’d brought was on them as they began to walk into the tunnel. It was dark, cold, and cramped, and Heavy was having a very hard time staying low enough to walk forward without bumping his head. The only light that was present came from Pyro, who lit a flare as he led the way through the tunnel, save the occasional glow from either Spy or Sniper’s cigarette.

Every now and then, the tunnel shook from whatever explosion was being levied from the outside, but as far as anyone knew, the base and its defenses were holding, with the lockdown providing further reinforcement. So far, everything was going smoothly, just as Spy hoped it would. Everyone was accounted for, and everyone was unharmed. With all luck, nothing would go wrong from there.

“Fuck, fuck me…” Sniper muttered under his breath from the back of the line, before saying in a somewhat panicked voice, “Spy, can I borrow another cig?”
“I fail to see how you can borrow a cigarette, but you may have one.” Spy replied, stopping to give him one, watching as Sniper struggled to light it, his hands shaking terribly.

“Herr Sniper, are you ok?” Medic asked with concern, though Spy already knew what the problem was. “Yeah,” Sniper muttered while taking a drag, “it’s just cramped in ‘ere, and the dark’s gettin’ me on edge.”
“Aw Snipe, ya scared of the dark?” Scout teased, only to get whacked on the back of the head by Heavy. “I ain’t scared of the dark!” Sniper spat out, an undercurrent of tense panic present within his voice, “I just hate being in this kinda spot! Christ, I feel like I’m stuck!”

“Sniper, Sniper take deep breaths,” Medic instructed calmly, pausing to face Sniper, “you’re fine, and we won’t be in here much longer, I promise. Now, breathe in, hold it, then release, ok?” Sniper did as he was told, taking a very long drag from his cigarette with shaking hands, holding it for a moment, then releasing the smoke, unintentionally smothering the team as he did so.

“Just like that.” Medic said between coughs, all while Scout hacked and wheezed near the front of the line. “Oh, sorry.” Sniper said quietly, before taking yet another drag of his cigarette. “Relax Sniper,” Spy said, trying and failing to keep the irritation from his voice, “it’s not the end of the world, it’s just a tunnel.”
“Yeah, yeah I know…” Sniper muttered under his breath, then continued to walk with the group.

They continued on in silence for a few more minutes, before Sniper said in a rather worried tone, “Ya know, I think I’m forgettin’ somethin’, somethin’ real important…”
“Oh not that again!” Spy groaned, wishing they could just continue in silence until he knew they were safe. “No, no I’m serious, I really do feel like I’m forgettin’ somethin’...” Sniper muttered again, once again blowing some smoke out, this time away from the group.

“Well, it’s like ya usually say, ‘if ya forgot it, it musnt’ve been that important!’” Demo declared knowingly, though this didn’t seem to bring Sniper any comfort. “Yeah, but the last time I said that was with Engie while we were in my van, and we did actually forget something important!” Sniper protested, before he froze, a look of pure, unbridled panic washing over his face.

“Sniper?” Spy asked as calmly as he could, unable to keep that small bit of fear out of his voice. If he really looked at Sniper's face, he could just barely see the color draining from his face as his eyes widened in pure panic. “Sniper, is everything ok?” Medic asked worriedly, causing the rest of the team to look back with equal concern.

“My… My van! THEY’RE GONNA GET MY VAN!!!” Sniper shrieked with absolute horror, and Spy’s face just dropped into disappointment nearly instantly. “I-I gotta get my van! They’re gonna wreck it! I gotta go get my van!”
“Oh, but of course!” Spy declared with potent sarcasm, “let’s just go get your van, bring it back here, and- MUNDY WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?!”

Without a moment's hesitation, Sniper turned around and began sprinting with speed Spy didn’t even know he possessed back down the hallway. “MUNDY!!!” Spy shouted again, but it was no use, and Sniper was already out of sight, having no intention of stopping and listening to reason.

“Ah Christ,” Demo muttered, quickly making his way to the back of the group and saying, “I’ll go git ‘im, you git the rest of the boys outta here, and ain’t you worry ‘bout us gettin’ caught, we’ll manage.”
“I’ll go with you,” Medic quickly declared, much to Spy’s personal horror, “if something does happen, it’s best if I’m there to help.”
“Right, sounds good.” Demo agreed, though Spy was inclined to disagree due to his personal bias, something in his heart screaming at him to keep Medic close, to not let him out of his sight.

“Doctor,” he tried to protest, but when Medic looked at him, he found he couldn’t continue with his original plan. He had to have faith in Medic, he had to believe that everything would be ok, and that he could handle himself. He wasn't going to disappear, nor was Demo, and even if they did get caught, he at least knew who had taken them, and where they might go. It was going to be ok, it was all going to be ok… It had to be.

Medic was a strong man, and more importantly, a smart one, and getting Sniper back was something he was more than capable of. Besides, he wasn’t alone, and Demo was more than qualified for the challenge ahead, God only knew how many times the man had proven himself irreplaceable. This wasn’t about him, this wasn’t about his fears, and he needed to remember that. He needed to remember that he couldn’t control everything.

“Just… Please, stay safe.” Spy asked, bit more quietly than he meant to. In response, Medic smiled understandingly, before walking to him and holding him, before kissing him gently, a firm promise that he would always be there, and that he was going to be ok. They stayed like that for a moment, holding each other, becoming lost in one another, just in case something did happen, just in case they did lose each other.

When Medic did pull away, his eyes were filled with determination, nothing about him revealing any sort of fear or hesitancy, as if he knew what the future held. “Everything will be ok, meine Engel, I promise.” Medic assured softly, and Spy found himself at a loss for words, just wanting him to stay, not wanting to risk losing this man, but it wouldn’t be right of him to place such worries on his love. Medic was a smart man, he knew his limits.

Spy only managed to give a firm nod of understanding, before watching as Medic and Demo raced down the tunnel to get Sniper, wishing he could follow them, wishing he could keep them safe. Alas, he had other men to worry about, and he couldn’t neglect them.

“Gentlemen, we must continue.” Spy ordered in an even voice, before continuing to walk down the tunnel, ignoring his heart in favor of his mind. However, it appeared as though Pyro was still unsure as to which he should favor, taking steps forward, the back again, as if trying to determine if he should follow, distressed sounds coming from him as he did this. Spy couldn’t blame him, he’d lost so much already, why shouldn’t he be afraid?

“Hey dude,” Scout said before Spy could say anything, “it’ll be alright, they know what their doin’, promise.” Pyro didn’t sound very convinced, continuing to fret for a moment longer, before he did turn back to continue to lead the group, albeit reluctantly. “C’mon man, ya gotta have faith in those guys,” Scout said again while punching him in the shoulder, “I mean, how many crazy situations have they been in, huh? Lots! And they always come out alright… most of the time anyway, but hey, that stats are in our favor.”

“Maybe Scout stops talking now.” Heavy said, watching the mood grow uneasy among the group. “Ya know what, I think you’re right.” Scout agreed rather quickly, and Spy just sighed as he continued to walk. He had to have faith, he just had to. Everything would be ok, it always turned out ok, always.

He didn’t like that the explosions that had been rocking the base seemed to have stopped.

***

“SNIPER! SNIPER, YA BLOODY IDIOT, GIT BACK HERE!!!” Demo shouted as he raced down the tunnel, with Medic following close behind him, shoving away the pain that seared through him. Neither man expected this to work, but it was worth a shot. What really upset Medic was that not even fifteen minutes ago he’d had to talk Pyro down of overpacking, he’d had to explain how his life was more important than the things within it, and now Sniper was doing this. He understood, truly he did, but at the same time he knew that Sniper was ignoring the logic he could see clear as day. It made Medic feel like a hypocrite, and it made him feel even worse for Pyro.

Upon exiting the tunnel, the two men quickly began to run to the garage, both a bit worried that they hadn’t seen Sniper yet. They ran side by side through the base, neither one overtaking the other, neither one wanting to somehow lose each other. So far, the base appeared to be safe, with no signs of the enemy as far as they could tell, and this gave them hope that they could return to the group unscathed. They could do this, they just had to go a bit faster.

Upon reaching the garage, they found that Sniper had grabbed one of Engineers toolboxes, one which held a pre-built sentry, and was desperately trying to get it on top of his van without scratching it, or getting it filthy. He didn’t look panicked, not nearly as much as he had been mere minutes before, rather he looked quite determined, almost calm, as if his life wasn’t at stake. How he was doing this was beyond Medic, but that didn’t matter right now, what mattered was getting him away from the danger, and out of his own mind.

“Christ lad, what are ya doin’!” Demo shouted as he ran in, all while Medic paused to shut and lock the door, just in case. “Gettin’ my van outta here!” Sniper responded, finally hoisting himself to the roof of his van as he opened the toolbox, pausing as he stared at the machine inside in an attempt to figure out what to do next.

“Herr Sniper, I know you have more sense than this!” Medic exclaimed with frustration, “Now is not the time to be caught up with such things, we need to get out of here!”
“And we are!” Sniper shot back while jumping off his van, “I gotta whole plan… I just need to execute it.”
“Oh, well that’s a relief,” Demo declared curtly, “I’m glad to know ya formed a plan while ya ran away screamin’ like a bloody banshee!”
“I am not leavin’ my van to be torn to bits by the bloody army!” Sniper shot back while grabbing some tools, “I can git it outta here, it’s just a matter of breaking through those wankers defenses!”

“I’m sorry, what?” Medic asked, now definitely panicking. “Yeah,” Sniper replied without much concern as he climbed onto his van again, “those bloody mongrols have the whole place surrounded, outside of the garage especially, so I just gotta break past ‘em. Now, there should be a plate of spikes somewhere ‘round ‘ere-”

“Are ya outta yar mind!” Demo cried out in disbelief, “That’ll never work! We gotta go back, now!”
“Oh piss off!” Sniper shot back, “I’ve taken this van all over Australia, I brought it here, and it’s been with me since through every bloody assignment in this goddamned war, I’m not losin’ ‘er now!”
“Herr Sniper,” Medic tried to rationalize in a much calmer voice, “I know that your van means a lot to you, I know that this is frightening, but you cannot possibly believe that this will work!”

Suddenly, there was a loud bang from the door that led into the base, causing Medic to yelp as Sniper cursed under his breath, quickly trying to assemble the sentry faster. Not even a second had passed when the realization that they were trapped hit Medic like a truck, and suddenly he felt trapped, his blood running cold within him. Despite himself, foul memories of the last time he was trapped began to flood through him, threatening to drown him right then and there.

“This is Lieutenant Johnson of the United States army, if you do not open this door, we will be forced to break it down!” a voice commanded from the outside, sounding angry and loud. “Ah Christ…” Demo muttered under his breath, quickly searching for a way to leave the garage unnoticed, all while Sniper continued to fix the sentry to the top of his van. “We know you’re in there, now surrender, or else!” Lieutenant Johnson shouted again, and Demo quickly ran to the door, shooting some sticky bombs around it as he went.

“Ya’re gettin’ in over my dead body!” Demo declared furiously, “Now why don’t you git outta here before I send me own army after ya!”
“And what army would that be?” Lieutenant Johnson asked in an equally furious voice, and Medic watched as Demo paused for a moment, the gears turning in his head as he struggled to find a way to stall the men outside.

“Why uh… Why the Scottish army of course!” Demo suddenly declared, his own accent thickening, if that was even possible. “Ya see laddy, ya’ve made a grave mistake! Ya’ve gone and pounded on the doors of the Scottish Embassy!”

Instantly both Medic and Sniper snapped their heads towards Demo, and the word disbelief must again be used to describe their current mood, though shocked would be good too. Seeing this, Demo quickly turned to them and in a loud whisper he seethed out, “Git us outta here! Find a way to git us out, I’ll distract ‘em! Don’t just stand there, bloody do somethin’!”

“The Scottish Embassy?” Lieutenant Johnson repeated with sarcasm, clearly terribly unimpressed, “I thought this was the French Embassy?”
“Aye, that land you’re standin’ in is French, but beyond these doors is Scottish!” Demo declared, once again urging his companions to do something other than stare at him. “Ya see, both the Scotts and the French wanted this land, so we came to an agreement as to who got what. The French got that part o’ the buildin’, and we Scott’s got this part o’ the buildin’. It actually took quite a bit o’ time to reach that agreement, and many wars were fought over it.”

Sniper was the first to snap from his shock, and he quickly ordered, “Oi, Medic, gimme a hand, would ya?” This was enough to snap Medic from his own terrified mind, and he quickly found himself helping Sniper get the sentry to the roof. “May I ask what exactly is waiting for us outside?” Medic asked with worry, trying to steady his shaking hands as he worked. “Two trucks, a tank, and a fuck ton’a men, but we can handle that, so long as the tank misses it’s initial shot, we’ll make it through.”
“Oh meine Gott…” Medic murmured wearily, watching as the sentry, which was at level two, sprang to life, prompting him to begin attaching it firmly to the roof.

That’s when something caught his eye in the corner of the garage, and he couldn’t help but take a closer look. Sitting in the corner was a very large flamethrower, one that he’d seen Engineer work on shortly after he’d awoken from his coma. His eyes then wandered to the company van parked a bit further away, simply sitting there as it collected dust, not having been used since hid last battle with the old mercs. Medic looked to the flamethrower, then to the van, then back to the flamethrower again, a plan slowly starting to form within him.

“I… I think I know how we’re going to get out of here.” Medic said with hope as he looked over the company van, specifically looking at its grill. “Herr Demo, how long can you occupy them for?”
“A while I reckon, why?” Demo asked in a loud whisper, causing Medic to leap off Sniper's van, wincing at the sudden pain, before running to the company’s van. “Sniper, I need your help moving some equipment, we’ll have to be fast, Demo, I need to borrow your sticky grenade launcher, you need to keep them talking for as long as possible! Oh Gott, bitte lass das funktionieren…”

***

“General! I have word from Lieutenant Johnson!” a loyal soldier reported to General Kickurass, who was currently standing outside the garage door, trying not to rip what was left of his hair out. It had been fifteen minutes since the lieutenant had confirmed that he’d trapped some of the mercs within the base, and since then it had been radio silence. General Kickurass hated silence, especially when dealing with incompetent people, it led to more incompetence happening without his knowledge. At least he’d been with the idiot Mayor of Teufort before he made things worse, though why he hadn’t removed him from the situation sooner would forever be his greatest mystery.

“It’s about fucking time!” General Kickurass exclaimed, turning to the loyal soldier with great irritation, “Now, just what the hell is going on in there?”
“Well, according to the lieutenant, at least two of the mercs are currently inside the garage, and one is claiming that it’s the Scottish Embassy, sir!”

General Kickurass simply breathed in, then out, trying to understand, no, trying to comprehend the fact that this was where he was in his career. Was he out fighting communism? No. Was he out fighting fascism? No. Was he doing anything important for the US? No.

No, he was trying to capture domestic terrorists who had been harassing the good, no, the idiotic people of Teufort for the past however many years. Why it was important that this was dealt with now was beyond him, but the senator of New Mexico had thought it was vitally important, and so did an entrepreneur named Gray Mann, who seemed to be intent on their destruction, more so than the senator.

So here he was, dealing with domestic terrorists who had harassed some idiotic town in New Mexico. This was truly the lowest point in his career.

“Sir, Lieutenant Johnson just radioed in,” the loyal soldier reported, “he says that a man claiming to be the Scottish Ambassador is threatening to call in an army!”
“Ignore him!” General Kickurass ordered, “These idiots couldn’t differentiate an army man from a sailor! He’s just trying to-”

Before he could finish his sentence, General Kickurass watched as the garage doors began to open, and a warm, orange light started to glow from within. “Ready your weapons!” he ordered, watching as the glow became brighter and brighter, until what he could clearly see as flames began to burst from the garage, suddenly getting very close, very quick.

“What in God’s name?” was all he could manage to say before what appeared to be a flaming van burst from the garage, barreling towards them at full speed. “Fire! Fire now!” General Kickurass ordered, watching the vessel of destruction charged towards them without care, as if its driver had no care for life. Instantly the tank fired, hitting the van as it exploded into a fiery ball, the impact of the blast being strong enough to blow the closest soldiers several feet back, all while rocking every vehicle and man present, even causing the tank to shudder.

General Kickurass had been one of the men who’d been knocked back, and while he was helped to his feet, his ears ringing within his head, he couldn’t help but stare at the remnants of the exploded vehicle in front of him in awe. How on God’s green earth had such an explosion been caused by one car? And more importantly, why had the lunatics opted for such suicide? Had they really just wanted a blaze of glory? Had they sacrificed themselves to give their friends time to escape?

“Sir! Sir, are you alright?” the loyal soldier asked, and as the General looked at the mess in front of him, he couldn’t help but look beyond and into the garage. For a moment, he was convinced he saw another van, but this time, he was certain he saw people within it.

***

“Can ya start drivin’ now, lad?”
“Not yet… Not yet…”
“Herr Sniper? We really should go now, it’s only a matter of time until they find out what happened.”
“I know… Just give it another second…”
“Lad, we don’t have another second, ya need to start drivin’!”
“I know what I’m doin’, keep your kilt on…”
“Sniper… Sniper they’re recovering…”
“Just gimme a moment… Just gimme another moment…”
“Lad, lad I think we need to go now!”
“... Alright.”

With that, Sniper slammed his foot onto the gas pedal of his van, causing the tires to screech uselessly for a few moments before leaping into action, springing the van forward into the destruction and mayhem they’d just caused. “Oh meine Gott, oh meine Gott, oh meine Gott!!!” Medic cried out as they charged through the mayhem, just barely avoiding the flaming wreck of the company van as they swerved through the army's defenses. Above them the sentry fired dutifully, providing them the cover they needed to really make their escape.

“Ya do know where ya’re going, right Snipe?” Demo asked while holding onto his seat for dear life, desperately trying to look behind him to see if they were being followed. “Course I do, what kinda idiot would I be if I didn’t?” Sniper shot back, carefully checking his side mirror to make sure they were still safe. “Piss, they’re starting to follow…” he muttered to himself, and Demo simply began to roll down his window to shoot grenades at them, making sure his seatbelt was nice and secure.

“Between me and the sentry, they won’t be followin’ for long!” Demo declared as he fired. In the meantime, Medic could only pray for safety and guidance, not wanting to feel entirely useless as he sat between Sniper and Demo. “Good work lad,” Demo said while explosions sounded behing them, “we’ll need all the help we can get.”
“Didn’t realize God listened to blokes like us.” Sniper commented, before making a very sharp right turn, and saying, “Right, hold on!”

Before either man could ask what was happening, they suddenly found themselves going down a terribly sharp decline at a rather dangerous speed, causing both Demo and Medic to begin to scream as Sniper’s van shuttered and bounced downward through the brush and woods. “Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger…” Sniper muttered as they flew, before they suddenly hit level ground and careened forward into the woods. Once the air returned to him, Medic instantly began to pray, this time a bit more feverishly.

“Army still on us?” Sniper asked, quickly checking his mirrors while he fixed his aviators. Neither Medic nor Demo said anything in response, Medic too busy praying, and Demo simply holding on to whatever he could to steady himself, which included Medic and the window frame. “That had better be a no.” Sniper muttered, before taking another sharp right, swerving between trees before he honked his horn a few times.

When Medic looked to see why he’d done this, he was relieved to see that the team had finally emerged from the tunnel and into the woods, however the sight of Heavy and Soldier firing into the tunnel gave him some concern. “Ok… calm down now, just calm down…” Sniper muttered to himself, before slamming on the brakes, stopping right in front of his waiting team, quickly leaning over Medic in order to shove Demo out of the way of his line of sight.

“BEFORE ANY ONE OF YOU PRICKS GET’S IN MY VAN, I AM GOING TO COVER SOME FUCKING GROUND RULES!!!” Sniper shouted, and though Medic couldn’t see Spy, he knew exactly what his face looked like at that moment. “Mundy you idiot!” Medic heard Spy shriek with fury and disbelief, “We don’t have time for this, now let us in!”
“MY VAN, MY RULES, NOW LISTEN UP!!! ALL OF YOU!!!” Sniper shouted again, leaning further over Medic and Demo in order to properly address everyone, shoving both men back against their seats.

“None of ya are to touch anything that doesn’t belong to you! If it’s not yours, don’t fuckin’ touch it! None of you are to git into my bed, that is MY bed, not yours! Don’t go rummaging through my fridge, that’s my food and drink, meant! For! ME! I also don’t wanna hear any comment as to what it looks like, that is my living space, and I didn’t intend for any of you fucks to see it! Don’t scratch anything, don’t anything filthy, and for fucks sake I’d better not hear any backseat drivers! The only one I wanna hear until we are properly safe is Medic, who’s gonna be prayin’ for our sorry asses, though whether or not that’s actually gonna do shit is beyond me! AM I FUCKIN’ CLEAR!!!”

“Yes! Yes, you’re fuckin’ clear dude, now let us in!” Scout shouted with panic, and Sniper hesitated, just for one moment longer, before motioning for them to get into the back of his van.

Instantly Scout ran to the back of the van and swung the doors wide open while climbing in, with Pyro close behind him, carrying Medic’s and Demo’s bags as he went, along with his own. Next was Spy, and after taking a moment to make sure no one was getting out of the tunnel to follow them, Soldier and Heavy were quick to follow, shutting the doors behind them as they went.

“Oh piss off…” Sniper muttered to himself, before quickly starting to drive again, the sounds of the rest of the team being knocked off their feet from the sudden motion sounding throughout the van. “Doc, there’s a sliding door behind you that connects to my room, could ya open it so we can talk properly to the guys in the back?” Sniper asked as he drove through the woods, to which Medic quickly did so, looking back a bit nervously.

“Is everyone alright?” Medic asked, getting a lot of irritated groans in response. “Snipe, I’m gonna freaking kill you.” Scout promised while trying to get to his feet, quickly falling again as they hit another bump. “Fine, just fine,” Spy promised as he leaned himself against a wall for support, “no one’s shot, no one’s dead, and clearly you are all alive and well.” Medic just sighed with relief, quickly getting himself properly seated again, all while Demo continued to fire grenades out the window.

“Sniper, where are we going?” Heavy asked, and both Medic and Demo turned to see what his response would be. “Fuck if I know, I’m just tryin’ to lose those wankers before we get blown to bits!” Sniper shot back, taking a sudden sharp left, once again causing a myriad of shocked grunts and yelps to come from the back of the van.

“Could you at least warn us before you do that you imbecile!” Spy shouted, but Sniper didn’t say anything in return, his face instead hardening as his grip on the wheel tightened. “Spy, remember the rules.” Medic said with quiet panic, trying to de-escalate the situation before something bad happened, understanding that Sniper was already far too overwhelmed as he was. “Oh for the love of… Fine…” Spy seethed out, and everything got quiet again. “Danke.” Medic said, truly meaning it, before he sat back and continued to pray, hoping that the good Lord was actually with them.

As the Red team continued to drive through the woods, Sniper desperately searching for any semblance of a road, and all the mercs in the back trying not to get squished or concussed, none of them quite understood just how much trouble they were really in. Sure, they knew that someone wanted them dead, but they didn’t quite understand who wanted them dead, and more importantly, why. However, that wasn’t a question they were going to be asking themselves at that moment, what they were instead going to ask was, how good a driver was Sniper, and how long would it take him to lose their pursuers. The rest of the important questions could wait, at least until they knew they were well and truly safe.

Until then, they simply drove into the night, only caring about the fact that they were all safe and alive, and that they'd somehow managed to get Snipers van.

Chapter Text

It had taken Sniper longer than anyone would’ve liked to finally shake the army from their trail, the snow had made such a task nearly impossible, but in the end, he did manage. He’d achieved this by driving out onto a highway, one that he definitely knew was there and that he didn’t accidentally stumble upon, and using the traffic, and his own skill behind the wheel, to get a good lead on them. Once he was certain they couldn’t see him, Sniper had made a sharp turn into a rest stop to hide behind the building there for a minute or two, then promptly turned around and started to drive the opposite direction once the army had passed them by.

He’d continued to speed down the highway until he found the exit he was looking for, quickly going down it and driving for another five minutes, before pulling onto a dirt road and speeding down that. This continued for some time, until he made yet another sharp turn and started driving into the woods, once again swerving through trees and causing the team in the back to fly around, being both crushed by each other and the weapons they’d brought.

After what seemed like the longest eternity, Sniper finally found what he deemed to be a suitable area to hide in, and after driving down a wide creek for a while, almost getting stuck in the process, he pulled up near an abandoned shed, and parked.

No one said anything for a good, long minute, each man either trying to recover from being shaken around like a maraca, or just trying to recover from the shock of what had just happened. To be fair, at least half the team wasn’t quite awake yet, not truly anyway, they had just been reacting to what they’d been told and acting on their instincts, which was better than doing nothing at all.

It didn’t quite feel real yet, at least not to Medic, and it felt like at any moment he’d wake up with Spy and tell him about the crazy dream he’d just had. His poor heart felt like it was ready to leap from his chest, and he couldn't quite get the air back into his lungs. He knew he was awake, he knew that he had been in terrible danger, the adrenaline still pumping through him told him as much, and he knew that everything he’d known had once again been ripped out from under him without any warning.

Truthfully, he just didn’t feel safe, fearing that at any moment they would be found, captured, and then… he didn’t want to think about what might happen next.

Even though he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was impossible for what had happened to him when he was the old mercs prisoner to happen again, his soul still feared it. Knowing that he could be trapped, knowing that he could be defenseless, knowing that there was a very real chance that his life could no longer be in his hands, that thought terrified him. The cold steel of a knife, the barrel of a gun, the air leaving his lungs over, and over, and over again, all while his blood ran down him, cold, wet, and everywhere.

That could happen again, he could die again, he could be broken again.

Everything hurt.

“Doc?” Sniper asked worriedly, and this was enough to snap Medic from his tormented mind. As he became aware of himself again, Medic realized he was shaking, and that he was just a bit out of breath, but not to the point where he was breathless. He could feel every fiber of his being, and in that moment, he was very aware of his mortality, and just how fragile the human body truly was.

“Oh… oh Gott… oh Gott…” Medic whispered to himself while running a hand over his face, trying to get himself away from his inner demons, trying to push back the pain that wracked his entire being.

“Ah Christ…” Demo muttered to himself, before leaning back to address the mercs in Snipers room, asking them, “Oi, could one’a ya grab some water? The drinkin’ kind if ya will.”
“Should be some in my fridge, you can grab one and bring it up, but don’t take nothin’ else!” Sniper ordered, all while he rolled down his window to get some fresh air into the van.

“Uh… Oh! Here we go.” Scout said, and after a moment he was in the window that connected the front to the back, holding a bottle of water which he handed to Medic. “Danke, danke Scout.” Medic said, quickly drinking from it like his life depended on it, which it very much felt like. While this certainly helped to center him, he found that he couldn’t stop shaking, even though he was fully aware that he was ok, for the time being anyway.

“Doctor?” Spy asked with concern, leaning through the window to wrap his arm around him in a half hug, leaning his head against his shoulder while pressing himself as close as he could to Medic, trying his best to comfort him with what space they had. Medic was quick to lean back into Spy, letting out a soft sigh while placing his hand on Spy’s arm, wishing he could just go back to bed, wishing he could wake up from this nightmare.

“It’s going to be alright, I promise.” Spy whispered gently, placing a soft kiss on Medic’s neck before going back to simply leaning his head against his. “I know… I know…” Medic whispered in return, holding onto Spy’s arm just a bit tighter as he spoke. He wasn’t sure he believed himself when he said that, but having Spy here, having his team here, that made him feel a lot better. Spy had been right about his previous assessment of the situation, no one was shot, no one was dead, everyone was there, and everyone was alive and well, and that was something to be grateful for.

“Sniper, what is plan?” Heavy asked, and Medic simply closed his eyes in an attempt to focus on stopping his shivering, finding that he wasn’t scared, just very cold. “The fuck you askin’ me for?” Sniper asked while putting his hat over his eyes, “Spy’s the self-appointed leader, not me.”
“Yes, but this is your van.” Heavy replied, and Sniper just groaned while sinking lower into his seat. “I dunno, wait for things to cool down? Not leave this spot for an hour or two?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Spy agreed, kissing Medic’s neck one last time before letting go and going back into Sniper’s room, “why don’t we all get a few hours of sleep, I will keep watch during that time. That includes you, mon amour.” Medic just sighed in response, but he couldn’t help but smile while letting a soft laugh escape him, loving that Spy had gotten to know him so well. “If you insist… Oh, Spy? Could you grab meine winter coat? It’s a bit cold up here.”
“Of course-”

Spy then stopped midway through his sentence, becoming silent for a few moments as he came to some kind of realization. He then let out a very audible groan, before once again leaning through the window and onto Medic, this time flopping his entire upper body onto him with the kind of drama only he could muster. “Is something wrong?” Medic asked as he tried to look at Spy’s face, knowing full well whatever it was wasn’t anything serious, probably just terribly inconvenient.

“Yes… I forgot to pack my own clothes…” Spy muttered into Medic, before he let out another defeated groan. Despite himself, Medic couldn’t help but laugh at his poor lover, though he was quick to hug him, trying to give him some of the comfort he had just provided him. There were worse things in the world other than forgetting to pack clothing, but still, it was very, very inconvenient.

“Sucks to be you man,” Scout jeered from somewhere in the back, “all I’m gonna say is that you are not borrowing any’a my underwear.”
“Pretty sure he was just gonna borrow the doc’s.” Demo commented without much thought, though the instant after he said this he realized what had just left his mouth, causing his eye to widen in slight horror. No one said anything for a moment, Medic now beet red, Sniper having turned to stare at Demo while lifting his hat from his eyes, and Spy having gone very still, too still for anyone's comfort.

“Demo, that is literally the best thing that’s ever come outta your mouth.” Scout declared with reverence, sounding as though he’d been privileged enough to have listened to some great speech. “Like… congratulations dude, I will never have the balls to top that, I could, but I never will. Pyro, I think we need to give Demo some sorta crown, could ya get started on makin’ one?” Pyro was quick to give an affirmative, all while he began to recite some impromptu speech about how brave and profound Demo was, or something along those lines anyway.

“Doc… I did not mean to say that out loud…” Demo promised, trying his best to lean away from Spy’s area of reach, just in case. “I… It’s not like you’re wrong…” Medic said quietly, feeling his face heat up even further.

There was another moment of silence, before the sound of Scout and Pyro applauding sounded from the back of the van, and Medic’s face simply got redder, if that was even possible. “Mon amour…” Spy groaned into Medic, “Why must you encourage their idiocrasies?”
“Well… Like I said, Herr Demo isn’t wrong… and besides, a little humbling never hurt anyone… you especially.”

Spy remained still for a moment, though Medic could feel him take in a deep inhale, before exhaling for an even longer moment, but the silence alone was enough to cause Demo to lean even further away. “Medic, those are very bold words coming from someone in such a vulnerable position.” Spy declared in a very cold voice, causing Medic to start to worry. “What do you-”

Before Medic could even think about finishing his sentence, Spy suddenly grabbed his sides and began to tickle him, instantly causing him to shriek and laugh while trying, and failing, to get out of his grip. “Spy! Spy-NEIN!!! NEIN!!! Stopp, bitte, Spy-SPIONIN!!!”
“Well look at that, I found a way to get him to switch languages.” Spy commented with a sly smile, before he was suddenly yanked back into Sniper's room with a yelp of surprise.

“We’ll save ya doc! We won't’ let the mean ol’ frenchy hurt ya!” Scout declared while Medic laughed uncontrollably, now listening to Spy shout and protest as he was dragged further away into the van. Then, the sound of the back door opening was heard, and Spy gave one last cry of protest before being promptly thrown out of Sniper's van by Scout and Pyro, who promptly shut the down and locked it. “There, now he can’t hurt ya no more!” Scout declared with pride, all while Medic continued to laugh, now thoroughly distracted from his earlier emotions.

It felt good to forget, even for a moment, and it felt even better to laugh, really, truly laugh. It didn’t hurt to do so, not yet anyway, rather it made him feel light, lighter than he had in a long time. Being surrounded by his friends, having a man who loved him with all his soul, knowing that none of them were going to leave him, that was what he needed at that moment more than anything, and the Red team knew it. They were in this together, and through hell or high water they were going to get out of it together.

“Ok, that was fun, now let me in.” Spy chuckled from outside the van, actually sounding like he’d enjoyed himself and the shenanigans. “Uh, no.” Scout said, and Medic found he truly couldn’t breathe, just laughing even harder despite knowing it really wasn’t that funny.

“Scout, it’s cold out here, and the joke is over, you can let me in now.”
“Um… ya know what, I’m findin’ that there’s a lot more space in here with you being out there, so… yeah, no you can survive outside for a little bit longer. ‘Sides, ya said you were gonna keep watch, so-”
“Scout, let me in. Now.”
“I mean, really think about it for a sec, like really think about it, how the heck are you gonna keep watch if-”
“SCOUT!”

***

“After a long and harrowing chase throughout the night, the US armed forces, led by General Kickurass, were unable to capture the domestic terrorists known as the Teufort Nine. While no official statements have been made, a few witnesses claimed to have seen what appeared to be a camper van flying down the highway, with some kind of sentry attached to the top. Where these ruthless killers are is currently a mystery.”

Once the Red team had gotten a few more hours of sleep, Sniper had driven them through the woods to a nearby town, though he’d opted to park in the woods instead of going into the town. From there, he and Spy had made their way to a local diner in an attempt to get some information from the news, and so far it was proving to be a fruitful venture.

“While little is known about who these men are and what their next move might be, rest assured that our government will not stop until these criminals are detained. As of right now, all nine collective mercs are wanted for the following: murder, destruction of private property, destruction of government property, assault, aggravated assault, battery, espionage for the USSR, illegal possession of-”

“Espionage? For the bloody Russians?” Sniper muttered quietly to Spy, who was currently donning one of his less obvious disguises, that of a middle-aged countryman. “That’s just bogus, some piker’s makin’ shit up about us, tryin’ to get us in trouble… You think it’s Pauling?”

“Not a chance in hell,” Spy replied quietly while taking a drag from his cigarette, all while the anchor lady continued to list their crimes, “she’s not that petty, and she wants me dead, not the team.”
“I just can’t figure it… Who the hell have we collectively pissed off?”
“No one, save the mayor of Teufort, and he was asked to help in our destruction, he didn’t lead it.”
“Mmmm… Maybe they’ll say who tipped off the government if we keep listening.”
“They might.”

So that’s what they did, they continued to listen to the news as their various crimes were listed and their previous misdeeds were reported on, all while the customers at the dinner gasped and made horrified comments about the vicious men being reported on. Despite himself, Spy couldn’t help but take pride in the attention he was getting, even if it was all in a negative light. There was just something intoxicating about the fact that people were getting to hear about him, and that they were starting to fear and respect him, the feeling was indescribable.

“I’m pretty sure we’re being stared at.” Sniper muttered worriedly from under his scarf, which was currently wrapped around his face up to his nose in an attempt to disguise himself. “No one is staring at us,” Spy assured patiently, “you’re just being paranoid… per usual.”
“I am not paranoid, I’m cautious.”
“Uh huh.”

“How these awful men have managed to go unnoticed for so long is beyond anyone's imagination, however it is thanks to the efforts of the new assistant CEO of Mann co., Gray Mann, that these criminals will now be hunted down, and given the punishments they deserve. Now, a word from Mr. Mann.”

Both Sniper and Spy were quick to give each other confused glances, before instantly turning back to the TV, now thoroughly invested in what was going on.

“Thank you, thank you, it is truly an honor to help this great nation, even if it is in such a small way.” It was an older man who said this, incredibly short, incredibly wrinkled, and overflowing with smugness, as if he were walking through his greatest dream. Spy wasn’t sure how to place it, but he looked like a man who had just conquered death itself, like a man who had won the world.

“These men have been a great, and at times, lethal nuisance to the good people of Teufort for far too long.” Gray continued gravely, a look of what Spy recognized to be mock pity and sorrow now resting on his face. “When my idiot brothers first hired these men, I figured that the fight would last three months, at worst a year, but never in my life could I have imagined it would go on for so long, and become so dreadfully destructive.”

“Welp, we found the piker.” Sniper muttered under his breath. “Hush.” Spy whispered back, focusing intently on Gray.

“That was why when I discovered the untimely deaths of my brothers, I knew it was now my responsibility to put an end to their petty fighting, I mean if I didn’t step in, who would? Sure, these mercenaries would have simply disbanded and found new work, but did anyone really want that? I think not! And when I came to discover that they had ties with the USSR, well, what sort of American would I be if I didn’t act?”

“Oh that’s just fan-bloody-tastic, he’s a bigger showboat than you.”
“Will you shut up?”

“My brothers, God bless their souls, were idiots, senile at worst. I doubt they had any idea that they’d hired such deplorable men, they were simply so caught up in their endless fight over those wretched gravel pits that they couldn’t even bother with background checks. I mean really, I don’t even think they remembered why they were fighting, they just were. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to attend to.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mann,” the anchor lady said, truly and idiotically inspired, “you truly are an inspiration to us all. Now, after some extensive searching, we have managed to recover photos of three of the nine mercs.”

Shortly after announcing this, pictures of Soldier, Scout, and Spy appeared on the TV, all three men being featured in a newspaper article about how they’d killed Santa, though Spy recalled it had been Old Nick that they’d killed. Still, just seeing the article was enough to send a pang of fear into his heart, as well as embarrassment, for now at least two of his teammates were now slightly compromised, though in the grand scheme of things it could’ve been worse.

“Oh my God,” Sniper muttered from under his scarf, “I totally forgot about that.”
“And I try to forget it every Smissmas season,” Spy muttered back, “I mean really, the fact that that incident is now being broadcasted is beyond humiliating.”
“Heh, I imagine… Shit man, I am so glad I wasn’t a part of that.”
“Shut up.”

Overall, this little trip was proving to be quite informational, though why this Gray character really wanted them dead was still beyond Spy. What was more concerning was that the anchor lady had described Gray as the assistant CEO, and not the actual CEO. That told him one of two things, either Saxton Hale had hired someone to kill them all, or someone had taken out Saxton Hale and was now hiding their true identity behind Gray. However, that raised yet another question, why would Saxton Hale want them dead?

He could very well be playing both sides of the war like the Administrator and Miss Pauling, in fact at this point Spy was certain of that, but one thing Saxton wasn’t was a coward, and he would have no problem with showing his own face to announce he wanted them all dead. No, no something else was going on here, something had happened to Saxton, but what?

The man was far too powerful to simply be murdered, and though he certainly wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, something told Spy he couldn’t be so easily tricked out of Mann co., and he could never be bought out from it. Maybe this was a part of the Administrators plan, but the problem was Spy didn’t know what that entailed, so he was just chasing more loose ends, more questions that led nowhere but to more questions.

Besides, if something had happened to Saxton, surely the news would have picked up on it, surely there would’ve been some kind of statement made, but there hadn’t been, at least none that Spy had seen. It just didn’t make any sense.

“I don’t think we’re gonna learn anything else mate.” Sniper muttered quietly, and Spy simply took another drag from his cigarette, still trying to digest everything he’d learned, and everything he was just beginning to understand. “We should probably head back now, maybe pick up some grub while we’re at it.” Sniper continued, and Spy found that he was right, and that amazingly enough, food was probably their biggest priority.

“Very well,” he said quietly while releasing the smoke, “it’s best we not push our luck. Besides, we have a lead, and that’s all we needed… Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought there were only the two Mann brothers?”
“There were.” Sniper stated worriedly, and Spy just sighed heavily as he watched the news, trying and failing to understand where a third Mann brother had appeared from.

“I’m beginning to think I may never hear from Miss Pauling again.” Spy quietly mused as he turned to walk out of the diner, a small sense of hope entering him as he said those words. Maybe, just maybe, she had been killed, and he would never again worry that he would hold Medic for the last time each night he went to sleep. If that were true, then all of their problems disappeared, no more old mercs, no more debt to Miss Pauling, and no more pointless fighting over pointless land.

The only thing that he would have to concern himself with would be finding Engineer and Ludwig, but that would be it. Never again would his mind be plagued with thoughts of death, of leaving his team without a farewell, of leaving Medic with such heartbreak, never again. Of course, he had absolutely no idea where either man could possibly be, nor if they were even alive anymore, and that was a thought that made his heart grow heavy.

Still, Spy assured himself that both men were competent, dangerous, and most importantly, intelligent, and they would not be so easily killed. Perhaps this Gray character had taken them, perhaps he’d wanted them for… something. That made sense, kinda, not really, but then again, who knew? Spy didn’t have all the pieces yet, but when he did, he would make everything right, he had to, that was his burden to bear, and one he would not walk away from, not again.

He could do this, he could make this right, and this time, he had time. No Miss Pauling, no deal with death, no war, no old mercs, just him, and whoever had taken his friends.

This wasn’t impossible, not anymore, everything was back in his hands, and he was ready.

“That is a very bold thing to say mate,” Sniper warned, bracing as the cold air hit him in the face as they left, “you’re just invitin’ trouble at this point.”
“Maybe, but at this point I’ll take my chances.” Spy conceded, fully recognizing his own hubris, and the two men began to walk back to Sniper's van in silence, each trying to assure themselves that everything would be ok. Neither man was entirely certain that it would be.

Chapter Text

No one was sure what to think when Spy and Sniper had explained the situation to them, and if two words were to describe the current mood of the team as a whole, they would be confused, and frustrated. The first word needs no explanation as to why it so perfectly applied, after all, nothing made sense, though the second might need some clarification.

All eight men were currently running on approximately two hours of sleep, and not the good kind either, and already the cramped conditions of the van were starting to get on everyone's nerves. This, along with the immense amount of stress the whole situation had caused, led to a rather nasty little whirlwind of emotions.

That wasn’t anyone's fault, it’s just what it was, so when Spy and Sniper returned with the news that there was a third Mann brother who’d sent the army after them, that didn’t help the situation. Thankfully, Sniper and Spy had been wise enough to return with food that they’d bought from a local grocery store, and that had been enough to lower the tensions and agitations the men were feeling, at least for the time being

After that, Sniper had driven them away from the town, and after some hours of driving in nonsensical patterns and taking even more nonsensical routes, he’d once again parked in the middle of nowhere, having stopped just in time for a light flurry to start up. It was there, in the middle of nowhere, while the snow began to pile on top of the van, that the Red team began to make some kind of plan as to how they were going to remain undetected, and how they were going to get more information.

It had taken a bit longer than anyone would have liked to finally regroup and really get their wits about them, but in the end they managed to hold their brains together long enough to sit down and talk to one another without killing each other.

The plan for the next forty-eight hours would have been as follows: Establish a makeshift base somewhere close enough to civilization to get supplies without hassle, but far enough away to avoid detection. Then, they made the determination that the easiest way to get information was to go right to the source, General Kickurass, which meant they would have to somehow capture him without getting caught themselves. That would be the tricky part, but once they had him, they could just follow him up the food chain, and with luck, find a way out of this ridiculous predicament.

If they were luckier, they would achieve their ultimate goal, finding Engineer and Ludwig.

Sure, having answers would be nice, but if they could just find the missing men, not a single one of them would have any qualms with cutting ties with everything and starting anew. It wouldn’t be hard, not with Spy in the group, and between the ten of them there was no way they didn’t have enough connections to simply disappear off the face of the earth. The war, the Administrator, hell, even Miss Pauling didn’t matter anymore, and that was such freeing thought, such a freeing reality to live in.

There were leads that could be followed, paths that had at least some end in sight, questions that had obtainable answers, and that brought them hope that maybe, just maybe, things weren’t so bad after all. Of course, none of this would be easy to get, none of this would be easy to chase after, but at least there was light.

However, right now the men just needed to focus on resting, and decompressing from the stressful day they’d had, so by the time the sun had set over the land, everyone was asleep in Sniper’s van, all of them having found somewhat comfortable positions to sleep in. They were fed, exhausted, kinda warm, but most importantly, they were safe, and had the night continued to go uninterrupted, the previously mentioned plan would have been executed, and things would’ve started to move forward.

We all know that’s not what happened though, after all, nothing can ever be that simple.

***

It had been Sniper's turn to keep watch that night, and he did so dutifully by sitting in the front seat of his van with his hat over his eyes, not asleep, just resting. He had no trouble staying awake, he was far too upset to even think about sleeping, after all, his van was currently overrun with his teammates and all of their belongings.

That wasn’t right, that was horrible.

This was his van, not their van, his van, and they weren’t supposed to be in it.

It just felt wrong to have them in his room, wrong to have them so close to his personal belongings, so close to him at all times. This was his van, his sanctuary to get away from them, and now they were all over his van.

What was worse, Heavy was in his bed, because logic be damned, there was nowhere else for him to sleep comfortably, he was just that big. That wasn’t Heavy’s fault, but damn it all, that upset Sniper a great deal.

It just wasn’t right, that was his bed, with his blankets, and his pillows, not Heavy’s bed, his bed.

It was selfish and he knew it, he knew that it wasn’t his team's fault that they were in his van, in all reality it was his, after all he’d been the one to go back and grab his van. He was glad he did, not only was this van his life, but it most definitely saved his team from being captured, and that was something he could never regret. It had been his turn to save the team, and he’d done so, and he was so incredibly grateful that they were all alive, and safe, and unharmed.

HOWEVER.

This was his van, and Sniper loved his van, more importantly, Sniper loved the privacy, comfort, space, and relaxation that came with his van. Did he currently have any of the things he’d associated with his van? Oh no, no, no!

No, instead he had Heavy in his bed, Pyro and Soldier cramped onto his dining area, Scout and Demo on the floor, and now, perhaps worst of all in Sniper’s honest opinion, Spy and Medic sleeping next to him in the passenger seats!

That was beyond horrible, beyond uncomfortable, beyond aggravating. That was his space, and that was space that they were not supposed to occupy for more than a few hours, and now they were there, sleeping next to him, practically on top of him.

That wasn’t right, it was wrong.

Sniper thanked God above that none of the men were currently snoring, because if they had been, good Lord if they had been, someone would be sleeping outside, or worse, dead. It was bad enough that he could hear them all breathing, or hell, just existing in his space, but he could tolerate that, for now, and for however long he needed to… That was a lie, he wasn’t sure he could take it much longer.

He knew, he knew that this was just the way things were, and that it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet, so he had no right to be this upset, not yet anyway, but good Lord he was upset. His van, HIS VAN, was now crowded, and his van was not supposed to be crowded! It was not supposed to be slept in by anyone other than him! His room was not supposed to be seen by anyone other than him, let alone used! They were not supposed to be in his van!

His van was not supposed to feel small!

Tap, tap, tap.

Sniper took a deep breath in, held it for a moment, then let it out, trying to remember what Medic had told him while he’d been in the tunnel. The noise had been enough to snap him out of his hate-filled spiraling, though he reasoned that it was probably some squirrel, bird, or heck, even some snow falling from tree branches above the van, and he was somewhat grateful for it. He needed to get himself under control, honestly, he was being ridiculous.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It was louder this time, and now that he was actually focusing on it, Sniper identified the noise as coming from right outside his window, and it was not snow. That made him pause, his heart slowly starting to sink within his chest as the blood drained from his face. Someone was outside his van, and they were now making themselves known.

He cursed himself for closing his eyes, cursed himself for getting so caught up in his hatreds and discomforts, cursed himself for letting his guard down for even a moment. Only God knew who was outside his window, getting his attention at whatever ungodly hour it was, but Sniper knew without a doubt that whoever was outside wasn’t afraid of him, or, if he was really lucky, was just plain stupid. He begged whoever was outside to just be stupid, to have just stumbled upon his van, and to have approached with naive curiosity. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple, but that didn’t stop him from hoping.

Carefully, as if the wrong move would send them all to hell, Sniper raised the hat from his eyes and looked out the window, praying that maybe a deer, or even a racoon was just poking the glass.

What he saw scared the ever-loving shit out of him.

Standing outside his van, looking annoyed, exhausted, yet somehow professional, stood Miss Pauling.

Perhaps exhausted was an understatement, she looked absolutely drained, that usually energetic air that seemed to follow her around was now gone, her eyes seemingly missing… something. Something that had once defined her was most definitely gone from her, but what exactly that was, was beyond Sniper, he just knew something was missing from her eyes.

Other than that, her hair was in its usual neat bun, her clothes were neat and clean, and aside from looking like she’d lost a few pounds, she looked what most considered to be healthy, at least physically. It was clear that mentally, she wasn’t doing so well, Sniper could just see it in her face, but all the same her determination shown throughout her very being, and it was obvious that she was here for business.

That was the part that scared the ever-loving shit out of him.

The two stared at each other for a long, long time, Miss Pauling staring into his very soul, and Sniper trying to not have a panic attack. He’d almost believed Spy when he’d said that he thought he’d never see Miss Pauling again, he knew it would’ve been too good to be true, but it had been a nice thought to indulge in before letting reality set in again. At that moment, Sniper was glad he’d decided to keep his aviators on.

Finally, Miss Pauling indicated for Sniper to roll down his window, now looking impatient, though still very calm. Sniper followed her instruction without much thought, too scared to do much else as he continued to maintain eye contact with her. She looked like death, though whether this was a personification, or just her clear lack of sleep was beyond him. All the same though, she was terrifying.

“G’day.” he greeted quietly, as to not wake up anyone else in the van. Miss Pauling said nothing in return, she simply held out a folded piece of paper for Sniper to grab, the words, ‘For Spy’ were written on the front of it. Sniper stared at it for a long, long time, his heart pounding faster and faster within his chest, as the air within him seemed to leave all at once.

He knew what that was, he knew damn well what that was.

No, no he didn’t, he had no idea, he just thought he knew. Why would she come for Spy now, it didn’t make sense, but nothing made sense. She was going to kill him, she was going to kill his friend.

No, he wouldn’t let her, he’d have to kill her himself. What if this was something else though? What if she wasn’t here for Spy?

Why was she here then? She clearly wanted Spy, but why? No, no she wasn’t… she was going to kill him. She was going to kill Spy.

What could he do? He had to do something, he had to do something now. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move, he was frozen.

Why was he frozen? He was a professional, professionals didn’t freeze.

He had to get to his senses, now. Why couldn’t he move? Why couldn’t he breathe?

Why did his van feel so god damned small!!!

“Mundy.” Sniper’s eyes instantly left the paper and met Miss Pauling’s again. She’d said his name so calmly, so patiently, as though she’d heard the thoughts that were running circles around him, the thoughts that were crushing him. “Give it Spy, tonight.” She ordered gravely, her tone unchanging, her expression unyielding, those four simple words giving away nothing about her true intentions.

Sniper looked at the paper, then at Miss Pauling, then back at the paper again. Then, after a moment's consideration, he took the paper from her, and gave only the smallest nod to indicate that he would follow through. Miss Pauling returned that nod, a nod much firmer than his own, before she turned and walked away, the snow falling peacefully around her, uncaring towards the tensions that had now arisen.

Sniper sat very still for a while, and it was only until he heard the sound of Miss Pauling's vespa driving away that he allowed himself to really breathe, suddenly very grateful for the cold air around him. At first, his breaths were short and shallow, and completely in his control, but before he knew it, they were suddenly getting faster and faster, and his van finally became too small.

As quickly as humanly possible Sniper rushed outside and into the cold, snowy air, instantly walking several paces away before he began to pace manically, all while running his hands through his hair, occasionally grabbing his hat as he did so, just trying to do something with himself other than panic.

Miss Pauling had been there, she’d been right in front of him. She could’ve shot Spy, she could’ve aimed through the windshield and shot him dead, and he wouldn’t have even known she was there. He could’ve awoken to a gunshot, he could’ve awoken to his friends blood painted over himself and his van, he could’ve awoken to Spy’s lifeless corpse.

What an idiot, what an absolute idiot. Why had he closed his eyes? Why hadn’t he been on full alert? Why had he been so consumed with his van? It wasn’t important, not with everything else going on, not with all their lives at stake, why had he been so selfish? Why had he been so stupid?

She was right there, she had been right there, and he… he hadn’t even heard her approach. She had been… she could’ve killed… Why had he been so, so… the words wouldn’t come to him.

Nothing was coming to him, nothing made sense, everything was too small. What was going on? The words wouldn’t form, why weren’t the words forming?

There were no thoughts, just feelings, feelings that were crushing him, making him feel small, making the world grow larger, and larger, and larger. Through this storm, through this crazed spell his mind had fallen under, not thoughts, but words began to form, awful, hurtful, true words.

No, no, not this again, not this feeling again, not again, please dear God not again.

Failure. Traitor. Idiot. Lunatic. Worthless. Unprofessional. No. Good. Retard.

You’re desperate, Mick, so incredibly desperate, that’s why you were so easy to use, so easy to fool, so easy to addict to my very voice! I can’t wait to see what they do to you once they’ve found out, I cannot wait to see what your team thinks of you when they realize you’re nothing more than a

desperate,

traitorous,

faggot!

“Sniper?”

***

Spy had awoken to the cold air suddenly hitting him like a bullet, though at first, he thought it was some odd dream. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time he’d awoken to a sudden chill or searing heat, sometimes his dreams just became that vivid, though it hadn’t happened in a long time. That’s why when he felt a breeze go practically through him, he decided to actually wake himself up.

The first thing Spy did was to make sure Medic stayed asleep, the last thing the poor man needed was to have yet another sleepless night, so Spy had carefully taken his lover's winter coat, which they’d been using as a blanket, and wrapped it tightly around him before going to investigate. Once that was taken care of, Spy turned to Sniper to ask why the window was down, only to discover that the entire door was open, and his good friend was no longer by his side.

That bothered him.

When he looked beyond the door, he’d found Sniper not too far away, just pacing manically while running his hands through his hair, or gripping onto his hat and pressing it tightly to his head. Spy didn’t see his friend panic often, but he recognized the giveaways almost instantly. He couldn't help but feel horribly guilty, figuring that Sniper was having such a moment because his van was no longer a quiet sanctum to retreat to when things became too much.

However, something in his good friend's eyes was telling him that this was much bigger than mere discomfort, and that scared him. Something was wrong, something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Spy had moved quickly and quietly when getting out of the van, being even quieter when he shut the window and door, moving even quicker to get to Sniper's side. The closer he got, the more he could see just how panicked his good friend truly was, how shaken his soul had become. That, and he could see him gripping onto a piece of paper, the item responsible for this fiasco, Spy was certain of it.

That terrified him.

“Sniper?” he asked, knowing that he’d probably have to do a bit more to snap his friend out of his manic state, but wanting to at least say he tried a calm approach. Much to his own surprise, and even greater relief, Sniper had instantly stopped, his head snapping towards him in both shock, and fear. Spy didn’t like that look, that look of guilt, fear, and regret, but he trusted Sniper, he trusted there was a good explanation as to what was going on, after all, he’d walked with him through everything these last two months.

He had to trust him, after everything, he just had to.

“Sniper, what’s going on?” Spy asked calmly, his eyes once again drifting to the paper held in Sniper's grip. Sniper didn’t say anything in return, his breathing still quick, and shallow, though everything about him was now still, but somehow more frightened. Spy didn’t like that, he didn’t like the implications of his good friend’s fear towards him, not after the last time he’d seen him so afraid of him

“What happened?” Spy asked again, trying to keep his prior tone, but he just couldn’t help letting his voice drop into something colder, something darker. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like Sniper’s pale face, his shallow breathing, his frightened eyes, it just wasn’t right. Something, no, someone had come here, and someone had scared his friend.

Spy didn’t want to think about who had been here, but deep down, he knew.

“I… I’m sorry, I… I just closed my eyes, promise,” Sniper swore, his voice even, yet terrified, no, not terrified, guilty, so terribly guilty, “I didn’t mean no harm, I just needed to git outta my head, promise, that’s all I meant. E-everythin’ was gettin’ too loud, everythin’ was gettin’ too small, so I closed my eyes, just to get a grip… Didn’t work, I lost track, and… and I closed my eyes, and I got so angry-”

“Mundy,” Spy interrupted, calmer this time, firmer as well, needing to still his own heart, needing to regain control, “Mundy I need you to listen to me, and I need you to listen to me closely. You are exhausted, you have been driving us all over this damned state, and you have had to step far outside your comfort zone to accommodate us, I understand. Whatever happened was not your fault, none of us are in our right minds right now, this is not on you, this is on me. I shouldn't have let you keep watch, I should’ve let someone else take the shift, that was my fault, not yours. Now, tell me what happened… What are you holding?”

Sniper paused for a moment, then looked back at the paper in his hand, having seemingly forgotten all about it in his moment of panic. He continued to stare at it for a moment longer, before turning back to Spy, his breathing now back under his control, a different fear replacing the old one. At that moment, deep within him, Spy feared for his very life, something inside him just knowing who had been there, knowing that he had been in terrible, terrible danger.

Slowly, as if walking towards death itself, Sniper approached Spy, and held out the paper front side up, so that Spy could see clear as day the inscription, which told him it was meant for him.

He recognized the handwriting.

Miss Pauling had been there.

Spy swallowed, he swallowed his fear, his anger, his confusion, and his hate. The last thing he needed was his emotions drowning him, it had gotten him nowhere in the past, and it would get him nowhere now. Like he’d said, this wasn’t Sniper's fault, the man was exhausted, he would never intentionally put his team at risk, and why should he have assumed Miss Pauling would suddenly show her face? He couldn’t have, Spy certainly couldn’t have. Besides, there was one fact about this situation that rang true, and that fact kept him anchored to reality, kept him from drifting away into the darkest depths of his mind.

If Miss Pauling wanted him dead, she would’ve shot him through the windshield.

She hadn’t done that, she’d instead gone to Sniper and given him… given him what? Instructions? New orders? An apology? He didn’t know, he just knew that it was meant for him, and that his future was now at stake, again. Damn it all, why could things never just go as planned? Why did his life always have to be stuck in a storm?

With a steady hand Spy took the paper from Sniper, keeping his eyes on it as he did so, not wanting Sniper to see his fear, though deep down he was certain that his good friend knew exactly what was running through his head. He turned it over for a moment, noting how it seemed to have come from a lined notebook, an uneven rip going down one side of it telling him that this was torn out with some haste. Despite himself, Spy inwardly laughed, wondering what had led her to fall so far, before remembering that he was in the exact same boat. Maybe Medic was right, maybe a little humbling wasn’t such a bad thing.

Before opening it, Spy lit a cigarette and took a steady drag of it, then thought over his life and all its choices. He had regrets, he had so many regrets, but there was nothing to be done now, other than maybe ignore the letter outright and drive away. Dear God that was a tempting thought, just ignore it and drive away, but Miss Pauling would find him, she always got what she wanted in the end.

With that in mind, Spy opened the note, and read it over.

Meet me two miles north of the van. This is business related, come alone.

P

Business? What kind of business? Spy’s business, Miss Pauling’s business, and all of his team's business had always revolved around death, so was it her business, or theirs? No, if she wanted him dead, she would have shot him while Sniper rested, but she hadn’t. This had to be something else, and if Spy were a betting man, he’d say this had to do with Gray Mann.

People like Miss Pauling and the Administrator didn’t just disappear into nothing, it was against their very nature to leave work, and loose ends, undealt with. Spy knew he’d been a fool to imagine that he’d never see Miss Pauling again, it had just been such a lovely thing to imagine, but he knew it would’ve been too good to be true. Of course, Spy was now forced to beg the never quiet, never easy, unrelenting question that continued to plague him.

Why?

Why not kill him when she had the chance? What did she need him for, what couldn’t she do by herself? She was the most competent person he knew, the most dangerous, the most cunning, and the most ruthless, why hadn’t she killed him? Never, never in all his time working for her did Spy see her leave something unfinished, if she wanted him dead, she would have killed him, she had no mercy, no sympathy, no remorse… Medic.

She’d shown remorse for Medic, she’d shown sympathy for Medic, she’d shown mercy to Medic. Could that be the reason? Something so simple, so human? Did she not want to awake her friend with death, with the unceremonious killing of her loose end? Did she not want to awake him with Spy’s blood suddenly upon him, with his lover's life gone in an instant?

No, she didn’t know they were lovers, why would she… She probably did, she knew everything. Was that it then? Was she merely holding off his death for a few hours longer to save Medic from witnessing his death? He could appreciate the thought and kindness she gave Medic if that was the case, but what if it wasn’t?

Those were the questions that swam through his mind, the ones that demanded they be answered, demanded they be known, demanded they be asked. He just needed to answer them, he just needed to figure out what was going on, he could do that, he had time… right?

“I… I’m so sorry mate… I shouldnt’ve closed my eyes, I just got so fuckin’ angry…”

Spy’s eyes snapped back to Sniper, and his own anger and uncertainties melted for a moment at the sight of his good friend. Sniper was standing perfectly still, his gaze fixed to the ground, his fear and guilt clear as day within him, even though Spy couldn't see his face due to the brim of his hat.

“I dunno why I got so angry, I dunno… I was a damn fool, I’m sorry…” Sniper’s voice was even, as if he were in complete control of himself, but he wasn’t, his fearful and guilty tone gave him away. “Just… I dunno, I’m sorry…”

“Mundy, Mundy look at me.” Spy asked gently, watching as Sniper instantly tensed at his words, his gaze falling even further. This made Spy pause, and he thought about his next words carefully. At least he knew Sniper was listening, and that’s all he needed to know.

“Alright, I understand… Can you give me your word that you’re listening to me?” Spy asked, just wanting to make sure, needing to know for certain that Sniper was listening to him. “Yeah… I’m listenin’...” Sniper promised, his voice now much quieter than before, but still steady. Spy sighed, and on instinct went to put a hand on his shoulder, but paused, and instead simply let his hand fall to his side, just wanting to comfort him as best he could, but never really knowing how.

“Mundy, you are exhausted,” Spy assured gently, something he didn’t know he had within him surfacing as he spoke. Not love, he knew he had that, not compassion, well, yes, he was being compassionate, but this wasn’t it, it was something else. Yes, it was compassion, but it was also sympathy, understanding, love, a want to just protect the younger man, to assure him that he was going to be ok. It didn’t matter, whatever it was, it was there, and he decided to go with it.

“You have not slept, I know you haven’t, and you and you alone have kept us safe from the government, and that is a heavy burden to bear. You have given up your comforts, you have given up your space, and you have given up your peace of mind, all to keep us safe, and that is not an easy thing to do. This… this predicament has stressed you, it has stressed all of us, you cannot blame yourself for letting your guard down.”

“It hasn’t even been a day,” Sniper argued, a hateful tone lacing each word, but towards Spy, not this time, “I am a professional, I should not be letting this get to me. I am better than this.”

Spy didn’t know what to say, he wanted to say something, truly he did, but the words just weren’t coming to him. He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right either. No, no he was wrong, Sniper was a professional, but he wasn’t… damn it all what could he say!

“Can’t even deny it…” Sniper muttered with a harsh laugh, “God damn it all…”

“Mundy, listen to me. Closely.” Spy ordered, now losing his gentle tone in favor of something far more direct, “You are a professional, you are the most professional man I know. You are competent, skilled, discerning, and powerful, so incredibly powerful. You are also a man, and whether we like it or not, not all men are created equal, if we were we would have a million men like Medic running around, or Demo, or me, or Saxton Hale, or hell, even Scout!”

“... Pretty sure that saying’s meant more to protect blokes from racism and pommies.”
“You know what I mean!”
“Heh… sorry.”

“The point is,” Spy seethed, before taking another drag of his cigarette and continuing, “we all have different limits, and we all have things that tick us off more than others, and I know that us being in your van pisses you off. Am I right or wrong?”
“... Look I’m just being dumb about the van, what’s impor-”
“That was a yes or no question Mundy, are you pissed off about us being in your van or not?”
“... Yeah.”

“And that’s just your idiocracies, one your several idiocracies, all of which revolve around your personal items, and that’s just the way you are! I have my idiocracies, Demo has his, so does Medic, we all do!”
“But you lot don’t get so worked up! Spy, I was about ready to kill you for just bein’ next to me!”
“Well, I’m certainly glad you didn’t kill me, but so what, you got mad! Do you remember how furious I would get when any of you idiots went into my smoking room?”
“Heh… hehehehe, yeah.”
“Well that was my idiocracy, and do you know what else is an idiocracy of mine? My suit, and my mask, and… well I’ll think of something else in time, but those things get me worked up so fast it’s not even funny.

“Mundy, this has always been an idiocracy of yours, and combined with your stress and exhaustion, you cannot be blamed for losing yourself in the moment. You… you aren’t a bad person, Mundy, and you certainly aren’t a bad teammate. I don’t want you defining yourself over your failures, you are so much more than them.”

Sniper was quiet, his stance relaxed now, and though his eyes still fell to the ground below, his head had lifted, just a little bit. There was a moment of silence between the two men, and as Spy waited for his friend's response, he couldn’t help but take some joy in the quiet snowfall that defined that night.

After his first kiss with Medic, Spy would never look at a quiet snowfall the way he once had, and he’d forever hold such events with a fond tenderness within his heart. It helped calm him, center his mind, remind him that life was truly wonderful, and that he should cherish every moment of it, the good, and the bad. He hoped Sniper felt the same, he hoped the soft quiet of the snow would help calm his good friend's turbulent mind.

“Spy,” Sniper said at last, once again focusing Spy’s mind to the issues at hand, “she coulda killed you, that’s what’s irkin’ me right now… Mate, she coulda blasted your brains out without a second thought, and I… that woulda been my fault. I… I coulda lost you…”

“You’re right,” Spy conceded gently, knowing that logic was on Sniper's side, but he wouldn’t let it win, so he continued with, “but I’m not dead, am I? I’m alive, and I’m going to make Miss Pauling wish that she had killed me. Are you listening, Mundy? I am alive, you did not fail me. Do not let what could have happened consume you, there is nothing for us in the past.”

Was Spy being hypocritical? Probably, but he didn’t care about that, he just wanted to make sure Sniper didn’t spiral down any further than he already had. The inner workings of Sniper's mind were both incredibly simple, and a complete enigma to Spy, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. One minute the man was like a magazine, easy read, easy to understand, completely comprehensible, then something would rub him the wrong way, and he would become a jigsaw puzzle.

Each time this happened, it took Spy less and less time to put Sniper back together again, or at the very least help provide Sniper with what he needed in order to take care of himself, and that made Spy feel good. He liked that he was getting better at helping his friend, it made him feel good to be able to provide comfort, not just to Sniper, but to his team. It made him feel like a good person, if only for a moment.

“I… yeah, yeah alright.” Sniper finally relented, not quite believing Spy’s words, but Spy decided not to press any further, knowing that there was little more he could say. He’d done his best, and now the rest was up to Sniper, and he knew in time that his good friend would feel better, just maybe not tonight, and that was just the way the world worked.

The mind really was a strange thing, something that Spy would never fully understand.

“Outta curiosity… what’s Pauling want?” Sniper asked, finally looking up from the ground and into the eyes of Spy, finally looking like his usual self, instead of the broken man he’d been hardly one minute ago. That’s why Sniper was a professional, that’s why Sniper was the best of the best, he always got up, and even if his mind did overwhelm him, crush him, and threaten to destroy his very soul, he always recognized it in the end, and he never let it win. Spy would’ve killed for an ounce of that determination.

“To meet with me, ‘for business’ she says.” Spy explained, handing Sniper the note for him to read over. “Huh… well that’s cryptic.” Sniper muttered worriedly, adjusting his hat back into its proper place as he said this. “Very, but we’ll be getting our answers soon enough, so I can forgive her for that. Besides, it probably serves me right for the amount of times I’ve been cryptic with her.”
“I’m inclined to agree.”

Spy then smiled at Sniper, a real, genuine smile, happy to hear his curt remarks after his awful spiral. Maybe he wouldn’t be completely ok tonight, but he would at least be himself, and that was more than half the battle. It made Spy feel even better when Sniper gave him the faintest smile in return, along with an even fainter nod, a promise that he was ok, and that he at the very least understood what Spy had been telling him.

“I trust you ain’t goin’ alone?” Sniper asked knowingly, to which Spy simply gave a short, condescending laugh. “Not a chance in hell,” he assured, taking a moment to check himself over to make sure he had everything he needed, “you’re coming with me, I’m going to need your sight, stealth, and rifle.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Sniper stated, a more wicked grin now spreading on his face as he went to grab his rifle, hoping, praying for the chance to end Miss Pauling.

Once both men were ready, they began to walk north of the van, towards whatever trap, meeting, or simple interaction Miss Pauling had planned for Spy. They were both terrified, they were both furious, and they were both uncertain, but it was time for Spy to pay his dues, one way, or another.

A life for a life, that had been the deal, but Spy had no intention of following through with it, not now, not ever.

Chapter Text

“So… ya think she wants ya for… you know… or somethin’ else?”
“...”
“Aight, fair enough… If… if she has called ya to kill ya… whaddya gonna do?”
“... What do you think I’m going to do?”
“True, true… If she does pull somethin’, I’ll git her before she gets you. Promise.”
“I know.”
“Just… just needed to say that out loud…”
“... I know.”

Up until that point, both men had been walking in silence, each smoking a cigarette as they went in a poor attempt to ease their minds. It wasn’t working. Spy felt numb, so incredibly numb, and all his reasonings, all his evidence, all his logic as to why he wouldn’t be killed evaporated in the face of his terrified soul. He knew Miss Pauling, at least he thought he did, and he knew that this was either one hell of trick, or something had indeed gone terribly, terribly wrong. Given the present circumstances, logic explained that something had gone wrong.

Still, his soul drowned out such logic, leaving Spy nearly unsteady as he continued to walk into the snowy night to whatever fate awaited him.

The woods seemed to go on forever, and the once peaceful quiet now seemed ominous, broken only by the walking of the two men, but that just seemed to make things worse. For a moment, Spy found himself looking into the sky, half mindedly searching for stars, or even the moon, just wanting to find some light within the pitch black of the night. Alas, there was nothing, and even the falling snow was barely visible in the total darkness. Spy just sighed warily, watching as smoke mixed with the vapors of his breath, creating a large cloud in front of him, and for a moment, its presence brought him some comfort.

“Fuck all, I shoulda brought a flashlight.” Sniper muttered to himself, taking a steady drag from his cigarette after he said this. “It’s best we didn’t,” Spy assured, “the last thing we need is Miss Pauling to find out we’re approaching.”
“Fair enough, but still, this is ridiculous. I feel like I’m gonna run into a bush at any moment.”
“Just keep your gaze focused, and you’ll be fine.” Spy once again assured, before taking another drag of his cigarette, half wondering if they were still walking north, before something else crossed his mind.

“Sniper, how was she?” Spy asked, once again releasing some smoke into the cold night air. “How do ya mean?” Sniper questioned, half-mindedly adjusting his rifle as he did so. “How did she look? How did she sound? Describe her to me.”
“Well, for starters, she looked just about normal, physically anyhow, probably lost a bit of weight, but that was about it. Hair was neat, clothes tidy, didn’t sound too serious, just your usual Miss Pauling… But I will say this, there was somethin’ off in ‘er eyes, like something was… missin’.”

“Missing? How so?” Spy pressed, now quite intrigued. “It… it’s hard to place,” Sniper explained carefully, struggling to find the words needed to express what he’d seen, “I can just see it, somethin’ that was there just ain’t anymore. Kinda makes her look a bit… hollow, yeah, she looks kinda hollow, like somethin’s missing from ‘er, somethin’ real important.” Spy said nothing for a moment, and just nodded to himself as he let the information settle, hoping that this was evidence towards the theory that Miss Pauling didn’t want him dead.

Then, just barely visible through the woods, a faint glow began to appear somewhere ahead, small, yet harsh. At first, Spy thought it was a trick of the mind, perhaps his nerves had finally gotten to him, but the closer he got, the more certain he became that the light was actually there. The only problem was the light seemed to be coming from the bottom of an upcoming hill, so there was no way to confirm what it actually was, at least from their current position.

Spy was quick to hold a hand in front of Sniper, stopping the man and motioning to the light in front of them. Upon seeing it, Sniper froze, now intently fixated upon it. Neither man spoke, Spy watching as his good friend absorbed the information, watching as his mind raced in an attempt to calm himself. He didn’t blame him, after all, he was having a very similar moment.

His heart had practically leapt from his chest, and he was now keenly aware of every fiber of his being, of every breath that entered, and left him. He hated that, he hated that he was feeling this again, that he was aware of the fact that he was breathing, it just didn’t feel right. Every time he felt this alive, it meant that he was that much closer to death, and this time he couldn’t back away.

There were too many things he hadn’t done yet, too many people he still needed to talk to, so many things he still needed to say. If one regret stood out amongst the rest, it was that he hadn’t called Charlotte when he had the time, that he hadn’t been able to tell her what was going on, and that her son was ok. He just hadn’t wanted to give her false hope, he hadn’t wanted to say goodbye again, he hadn’t wanted to listen to her try and stay strong for him, but now… My God, he would’ve changed that in a heartbeat.

At least he could say that he’d held Medic close, at least he could say that he’d been kind to him, that he’d loved him, that he’d protected him. That meant something to him, it meant something to know that he’d followed through with his promise, that he had changed, that he had been a better man. It just hurt him to know that he may never again hear Medic stuttering something out in German, that he may never again look into his starstruck eyes, that he may never again hold him close while a warm, peaceful sleep overtook them together.

Still, that was only a maybe, and maybe nothing would happen at all, maybe he was safe, and just letting his mind run wild. That had to be it, it just had to be.

Even if he wasn’t safe, even if somehow Miss Pauling still wanted him dead, even after everything that had happened over the last day, he would not go down without a fight, he would not go gently into that good night. She was clever, yes, and there was no way she wouldn’t be expecting him to fight back, there was no way she hadn’t come prepared to deal with him, and the rest of his team. If that was the case, if there was truly no way for him to make it out alive, then he would at least try to bring her down with him, one last attempt at keeping Medic safe.

Snake to a snake, liar to a liar, killer to a killer, same heart, same mind, and yet somehow, despite everything, they differed in their souls. Perhaps it was because he was older, perhaps it was because he’d grown soft, perhaps it was because he had men who looked to him as a leader, and one man who looked to him as a lover. Spy truly didn’t know what exactly differentiated their souls, what small, or large, moral standing set them apart as individuals, but it was there, and that made him feel better, if only slightly.

Once upon a time that would have worried him, it would have made him sick to think that he had grown soft, that somehow, he was less of an assassin than Miss Pauling, but not anymore. The truth was he’d always admired Miss Pauling, always respected her as an equal, thinking that the only thing that separated them was experience and age, though now he knew that it was only age. Still, their relationship had been something he’d cherished, something he’d held close, closer even than some of the bonds he shared with his team, after all, they had been cut from the same cloth, and once upon a time, they had shared the same soul.

Alas, that was no more, their souls had changed, and they had changed with them.

Sniper was right, Pauling be damned, he had chosen his path, and she had chosen hers.

“Sniper, I need you to promise me something.” Spy whispered, watching as Sniper finally turned to face him, his eyes filled with terror, and rightfully so. “If… if something goes wrong, if for some reason I don’t make it back… I want you to tell the team everything.”
Sniper blinked, and continued to stare at Spy a moment longer, before quietly asking, “What?”

“I want you to tell the team about who Pauling is,” Spy explained in a rushed whisper, suddenly very aware of the fact that he may not even have half an hour left alive, “about the deal I made, about the true nature of this war. Sniper, I want you to tell Medic that this isn’t his fault, and that I would lay my life down for him again if I could, and that I would do so in a heartbeat. I need you to… I need you to make sure that he knows this isn’t his fault!”

Sniper didn’t say anything for a moment, he just took a shaky drag of his cigarette as he looked out towards the light again, before releasing the smoke quietly. He then nodded to himself for a moment, running a hand through his hair as he did so, then quietly said, “C’mon mate, we talked about this… Ya can’t be sayin’ shit like that, you’re gonna be ok. Pauling be damned, we can handle her… but… if, and that’s a very large if, mind you, if somethin’ does happen, I’ll make sure to get that point across to the team.”

Spy let out a relieved sigh at that, and gave a short nod of appreciation before looking back to the edge of the hill. “Mate,” Sniper whispered before Spy could walk away, “Ima go scout that for ya real quick, make sure nothin’ foul’s waitin’ for ya.”
“That would be appreciated, merci.” Spy thanked, and wasn’t all too surprised to see Sniper walk the opposite direction in search of a large tree to climb. After all, why on earth would he put himself in Miss Pauling's line of sight?

Spy waited patiently for several minutes, smoking quietly as he did so, before he heard what sounded like an owl call out into the night, but he knew it wasn’t an owl.

From the call Sniper had provided, Spy knew that not only did Sniper have a clear shot, but that it didn’t look like there was any immediate danger, which really didn’t mean anything good when it came to Miss Pauling. Still, it felt good knowing that he wasn’t alone, and that maybe, just maybe, things weren’t so bad.

This was it then, he had run out of time.

“Merci, Mundy, for saving my life… Adieu…”

With that, Spy began to walk towards death, hoping, praying, that somehow everything would be ok, and that she needed him alive. With each step he reminded himself that if she wanted to kill him, she would have done so, and that there was a reason he wasn’t sitting lifeless in Sniper's van. It didn’t bring him much comfort, in fact, he’d never felt such a sense of impending dread in all his life, for if he died now, he wouldn’t be dying alone, unloved, and hated, he would instead be leaving behind an entire team, a lover, a friend… dare he think it, a son.

Spy took in one last breath, to calm his frightened heart, to steady his racing mind, to comfort his hurting soul, then, at long last, he walked into the view of Miss Pauling.

He wasn’t terribly surprised to see that it was her purple vespa that was currently providing the light, nor was he surprised to see Miss Pauling standing in front of it patiently, holding herself to block out the cold while watching her surroundings warily. Despite himself, Spy continued to watch her, trying to find any sign of panic, uncertainty, or hell, just the slightest reason as to why she’d finally called for him. What he got instead was Miss Pauling’s ever knowing gaze, and the two just stared at each other for far too long, neither one able to read the other's intentions.

After taking one last drag of his cigarette, Spy discarded the butt and began to walk down the hill, now aware of the humming of the vespa’s engine, hating how the light it provided seemed to make Miss Pauling’s shadow so terribly large. It made her look like death.

Once Spy stood twenty feet away from her, he stopped, now carefully searching her eyes for that hollowness that Sniper had described, and he quickly found it. Sniper had been right, something was missing, and it wasn’t just in her soul, but in the way she held herself, some boldness, reason, or maybe just life itself missing from her. It was terribly unnatural, but Spy didn’t dwell on it, he refused to. Instead, he stood completely still, waiting for her to make the first move, waiting once again for her to start this dangerous dance between them, refusing to the one who made that first move.

It didn’t take Miss Pauling long to recognize this, and Spy watched as she let out an uncharacteristically shaky sigh, before saying in her usual serious tone “I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you here.”
“I am.” Spy replied shortly, half wanting to light another cigarette, half wanting to demand she get to the point. Miss Pauling appeared a bit taken aback by the bluntness of his statement, but she simply continued in her usual tone, “Well, obviously things have… gotten out of hand in regards to… everything.”

“I know, after all, I’m here, aren’t I?” Spy asked rather coldly, some bit of his fear starting to melt, now transforming into the hatred he now held for her. Miss Pauling’s ever bold, every professional stance slipped, her face giving away her own uncertainties and regrets, before she quickly regained her usual composure.

“I… That’s true…” Miss Pauling conceded, her voice now dropping into something truly sorrowful, truly regretful. Spy didn’t care, he couldn’t care.

Not a word was said between them for a painfully long minute, each snake just staring into the others soul, before Miss Pauling quickly exclaimed, “Look, I’m sure you have mixed feelings about seeing me right now, the last time we spoke wasn’t exactly-”
“Miss Pauling,” Spy interrupted in a mockingly sympathetic voice, “I assure you, my feelings are not mixed.”

Those words cut, and they cut deep. In an instant Spy watched as Miss Pauling’s carefully held persona of power and professionalism shattered before him, her eyes finally giving away the true pain within her soul, her face shifting into pained shock, if only for a moment.

Good, let it sting, let her understand where he stood.

“... Understood…” Miss Pauling replied with pained acceptance, “I… I understand. Well, either way, I do have an explanation as to what’s going on, and I’m sure you’d like to hear it.”
“I would.”
“Right… you probably don’t want to be here longer than you need to be.” Spy said nothing in return, just watching her coldly, watching as she ebbed and flowed between her broken mask of stability, and her face of pained regret. He didn’t care, in fact, it made him feel so much more alive, a weight in his chest lifting as he realized that he was going to live, and that he wasn’t any real danger.

“Well, first things first,” Miss Pauling explained in her usual tone, “Redmond and Blutarch are dead, but you already know that, everyone knows that. What you don’t know is that they were killed by their other brother, Gray-”

“Forgive me for the interruption,” Spy interjected, not wanting to be mean, this time, just not wanting to hear things he already knew, “but I am aware of this Gray character, and I am aware that he is currently acting as assistant CEO for Mann co., and that he is the one to send the army after us. What I want to know is why the Administrator has taken so long to act, why Saxton Hale is now seemingly dormant within his own company, and why me and my team have been neglected for over a week at this point, and more importantly, why you are reaching out to me now.”

“... The Administrator’s dead…” Miss Pauling explained quietly in a truly broken voice, the last pieces of her mask finally shattering into nothing. For the first time in his life, Spy watched as tears began to form in her eyes, real, heartbroken tears, but they didn’t fall, not yet, they just lingered in her eyes.

That’s what was missing from her, that was why she seemed so hollow, her entire world had been shattered. A poet without a muse, a soldier without a general, a servant without a master, a priestess without her goddess, Miss Pauling was truly alone in a world that wanted her dead. If Spy were to feel any pity for this woman, any at all, it was now, and he did. Despite himself, despite his deep and true hatreds towards this woman, he pitied her.

“She… she was killed by Gray Mann the same day he killed his brothers,” Miss Pauling explained with a shaky voice, her tears now falling freely upon her face, “we… we had no idea he knew where she was… I had no idea that… that…” Miss Pauling forced herself to stop, forced herself to take in a deep breath, hold it for a moment, then release it slowly, her mask of control starting to rebuild itself as she did so, though it was more for herself than for Spy.

She truly was one of a kind, and once upon a time Spy would have taken her in his arms and held her close, assuring her that everything would be ok, promising her she wasn’t alone, promising her that they would walk through this together. However, that was the past, and Spy no longer held her so close to his heart, he just couldn’t.

“The point is,” she continued, having now somewhat regained her some of professionalism, “the Administrator is gone, the war is over, and I can honestly say that I have no idea what’s happened to Saxton Hale, it was only this morning that I learned that Gray had any say over Mann co. at all. With that being said… I can confidently say that Gray Mann’s intentions are as simple as they are deadly. He wants to take over the world.”

“That’s it?” Spy couldn’t help but ask, unsure as to whether he should be shocked or not. “That’s it.” Miss Pauling confirmed in an equally blunt tone, and for a moment they were on the same brainwave. “Gray Mann wants to take over the world, and he’s well on his way to doing it.” Spy paused for a moment, simply absorbing everything that had just been said, letting his mind piece together the logistics of the situation at hand. To his surprise, it was easier to comprehend than he originally thought it would be, and he found himself a bit disappointed that Gray’s plans weren’t more… original.

“Perhaps this will be considered a dumb question,” Spy stated with some curiosity, “but why not let him try to take over the world? The man appeared to be old as dirt, surely he’ll give it his best shot, then die a horribly painful death from however many diseases he’s bound to be riddled with?”

“Well… about that.” Miss Pauling began to explain with some hesitation, and already Spy could hear the ridiculous explanation as to why he would probably never die, just like his brothers. “Gray Mann has a machine that makes him… immortal, for lack of a better word, and it runs on a little something called… Australium.”
“The miracle gravel?” Spy asked with intrigue, slightly familiar with what it was, but by no means an expert. “Yes… that.” Miss Pauling confirmed, now looking a bit uncomfortable, as if she were talking about something that wasn’t supposed to be talked about.

“He’s using it to keep himself alive, and… and now that he’d killed the Administrator, he’s going to be looking for her… caches of australium.” Spy found himself once again staring at her in bewilderment, the understanding of just how ludicrous the whole situation was now starting to sink in, along with the understanding that if the Administrator had australium, then that meant she too had been immortal. Suddenly, the whole concept of what the Gravel War had actually been about got incredibly strange, and worst of all, incredibly stupid.

“Miss Pauling… how old was the Administrator?” Spy asked, just a bit concerned as to what the answer would be. “You know Spy,” Miss Pauling said in a rather perplexed tone, “it’s very rude to ask about a woman's age, and now that-”
“Miss Pauling. How old was she?”
“... You want the truth? I have no idea, I honestly don’t, I just know that… that she’s been working on something very, very important.”

On the one hand, Spy admired her loyalty, he admired her unyielding dedication to the Administrator and her work, and he admired her absolute persistence when it came to accomplishing her work. On the other hand, Spy felt himself losing a bit of respect for her, after all, it was abundantly clear to him that she had no idea who’d she’d been working for, and what exactly the Administrator’s goal had actually been. He found himself terribly confused, terribly conflicted on his personal image of Miss Pauling, and just a bit out of sorts due to the events of the night.

“Miss Pauling… I… What exactly was the point of the Gravel- You know what. Nevermind, I don’t care.” Spy was sick of these games, sick of these lies, sick of this never ending maze of half truths and secrets. It just didn’t matter. “I don’t care about the war, I don’t care about Gray Mann, I don’t care that Saxon Hale is MIA, and I certainly don’t care about the fact that the Administrator is dead. What I want to know right now, is why I’m here, and why you have chosen to speak with me now. Miss Pauling, what do you want from me?”

Silence once again settled between them, and Spy wasn’t so sure he liked the look Miss Pauling was giving him, recognizing it almost immediately as the look she had when there was work to be done.

“When… When the Administrator died, she left several caches of australium hidden throughout Australia, her own personal stores. Gray Mann hasn’t found all of them yet, though he gets closer to finding them all every day, and I can’t let that happen. Believe me, I tried to take care of this myself, but… I can’t. There’s too much for me to destroy alone, and Gray has eyes everywhere, meaning that I don’t know when I’m in danger… but if I act as your eyes, then I can keep the danger away from you.”

Was she asking what he thought she was asking? Was she seriously asking for his help right now?

“Spy, I cannot let Gray win this, he’s won too much already, and this isn’t just some stupid piece of land that’s at stake, it’s everything, it’s the entire world. I know I’m asking a lot right now, and I know that a lot’s happened for you and your during these last twenty four hours, but this is important. Spy, I need you and your team to go to Australia, find all the australium, both found and hidden from Gray, and destroy it. All of it.”

She was asking for his help. She was actually asking for his help.

“And I get it, I totally get that you don’t like me right now, rightfully so, but this is beyond both of us, this is bigger than the both of us, so I need you to set aside your… disdain for me, just until this is finsihed. If we don’t stop him now, no one will, and everything we know and love will be taken, and destroyed. You’ve seen the lengths Gray will take to destroy you, you’ve seen what he’s capable of, how easy it is for him to bend the US army to his will, think of what he’ll do to us when he’s running everything!”

This was an actual conversation that was happening. Miss Pauling was begging him for help.

“I know, Spy, I know that it isn’t too late to stop him. With your team, with my intel and surveillance, we can get ahead of Gray, we can stop him from winning, we can… we can do this, but Spy, I can’t do this alone, I just can’t, it’s too big. I… I respect the fact that you don’t like me, that you… that you most definitely hate me right now, but after his job, after this is finished, we can both walk our separate ways, we can be done with all of this.”

Miss Pauling was asking for his help. She actually believed that he would want to help her. While Spy absorbed the situation at hand, he gave in to his base desires and lit himself another cigarette, just trying to clear his mind and focus on what was actually being asked of him. It just didn’t feel real, he was free, his debt was long forgotten, his life was no longer in the hands of Miss Pauling.

Spy looked her over for a long, long time, and he saw that she was quite serious about this, and that she genuinely believed that this was her best option. Her professional stance had returned, her determination was strong within her voice, and she looked so certain that they could stop Gray Mann, so certain that Spy would rally his team and help her.

What a fool, what an arrogant fool.

“Miss Pauling, kindly, go fuck yourself.” Spy stated very calmly, yet very harshly, wanting her to hear his venom, wanting her to understand that he was not her friend, and that he would never be her friend again.

There was a pause, not a long one, just long enough to make things awkward, for Miss Pauling was taken aback, any response she had prepared for this moment clearly not suitable anymore. She blinked once, then twice, before she settled into her usual composure, and with great, yet pained acceptance, she stated, “You know what, fair enough, I get it, I totally get it. I’m asking a lot from you after everything that’s happened between us, and you… obviously don’t like me right now. Why don’t you just say what you need to say, then we can-”

“I don’t think you properly heard me, Miss Pauling. Go fuck yourself.” Spy stated again, much less calmly, much more harshly. That’s when he saw the realization of what he was actually saying hit Miss Pauling, and the sudden panic and fear that hit her was the most satisfying thing Spy had seen in a long, long time. Good, let her panic, let her understand.

“I… I don’t think you quite understand what’s happening right now,” Miss Pauling exclaimed with a now desperate tone, “the world is at stake. The entire world. Like… everything, Spy. I don’t think that it’s a good idea for you-”

“I don’t care. Go fuck yourself.”

“Spy, I get it, you hate me, you really, really hate me, but this is-”

“Miss Pauling. I don’t care.” Spy declared gravely, his voice dropping into something dark, so incredibly dark, as all his anger, his fear, his hate, and his sorrow regarding this woman began to rise within him now that he understood that he was going to live. “I don’t care that the world is at stake, I don’t care that you need me, I don’t care that I am literally the only option you have left, I don’t care.

“Why on earth should I care about the world? Why on earth should I risk my life, and the lives of my men, for a world that would rather see us all rot in hell? A world that would kill us all in a heartbeat if given the chance? A world that has done nothing but look upon us with spite? Why should I care about what some seemingly immortal man wants to do with it? Let it burn for all I care!

“Miss Pauling, my world consists of exactly eleven people, including myself, and I know that we are all more than capable of surviving whatever grand scheme Gray has, and we are most certainly capable of disappearing off the face of the earth if need be, so that we are never bothered with this stupidity again!

“Granted, I am currently missing two of the eleven people, but I don't need you to find them, I don’t need you for anything! Miss Pauling, if you never came to me, if I never heard from you again, my life would be exponentially better than it is right now, though as it currently stands, I must admit, I am happy you called me, I am happy you came to me, begging for my help. Do you want to know why?

“Because now that you’re here, because now that we’ve spoken, I know that I’m safe! I know that not only are you not going to kill me, but that you will never kill me, because you need me, you are useless without the power me and my team provide. Well, guess what, Miss Pauling? You don’t get to call me, and demand I fix your problems, you don’t get that pleasure!

“Do you have any idea how many sleepless nights I’ve suffered? How many times I awoke in a cold sweat, fearing that you had come in search of my soul? Can you even begin to conceive the absolute terror and guilt I felt, knowing that I would die, and that I could tell practically no one, that I would disappear without a trace! Knowing that my team would believe I had abandoned them during our most pivotal moment!

“Do you have any idea how often I looked around at my life, at my team, at my family, and thought to myself, ‘dear God, this is the last time I will ever experience this? This is my last night on this planet!’ Can you even begin to understand the pain I felt trying to explain to my closest friends that I was going to die?!? Do you have any idea at all what it feels like to know that you will never again share a warm conversation with someone you hold dear, that you will simply vanish without a true farewell?

“You know what? I don’t care if you do. I can’t care! I refuse to care! I sacrificed my life to save Medic, to save our friend, and you didn’t think twice! WHY!?!?! Because your precious Administrator needed to keep a secret? Because your precious goddess couldn’t stand the fact that one of her pawns was nearing the end of the board? Or was it because you needed to save your own skin? Was it because you realized that you had stepped too far out of line, and that you needed to get back into the good graces of your muse?

“Let’s be honest with ourselves, Miss Pauling, this isn’t about Gray, this isn’t about the fact that the world is in danger, this about the fact that you cannot avenge her death alone, and that you will never be able to sleep at night until you know that you avenged the death of your goddess!

“I have suffered too much to care, I threw away my entire life for a man who was more deserving of life than I, and you… you didn’t do a thing! Too loyal to… to a woman whose goal you don’t even understand! You were going to let Medic rot! Do you have any idea what was done to him!?! Do you even understand that he will never be the same again, that he’s been broken!?!?!

“You don’t, because deep down, you were never friends with him, you were never friends with me, you were never friends with any of us. You were the Administrator's dog, you got close to us to keep an eye on us, and when we stepped out of line, or if we saw more than we were meant to, you were there to rip out our throats on her behalf.

“And now… now that she’s gone, now that you are alone, now that your goddesses murderer is close to ruling the world, now you chose to defy her orders? When she is no longer here to look upon you with disdain and disappointment? Please, I am not a fool, I am not an idiot, and I will not help you with your ridiculous quest for justice, for a woman who doesn’t deserve to have peace.

“Miss Pauling, go fuck yourself, and if I ever see you again, if you ever come near my team, or Medic, I will not hesitate to kill you. You are not my friend, you are not my boss, you are nothing to me other than a painful experience, which I will do well to forget.

“Adieu.”

It felt like the world had been lifted from his chest, it felt as though he was as light as a feather. He was alive, he was going to live, and there was nothing Miss Pauling could do to him! She had no reason, she had no motive, her very reason to live was gone, and with her, any power she had over him and his team! He was free! He had time!

Was this what the birds felt when they took flight for the first time? Was this the feeling that deer had when they ran through the open fields? Was this what the salmon felt when they finally reached the ocean after being stuck in such small creeks? Was this what it meant to truly live?

He was alive, he was going to love Medic, he was going to lead his team to safety, he was going to talk to Charlotte again, he was going to find Engineer and Ludwig. No more what ifs, no more going to bed in fear that it would be the last time he slept, no more lying about his true fate! My God, he was alive, and he was free of this war! Of Miss Pauling! Of everything!

He had a future, and he was going to make every minute count.

While ignoring Miss Pauling’s shattered image, ignoring the tears now staining her stilled face, ignoring how her eyes pleaded for help, for forgiveness, for understanding, Spy turned away, and began to walk towards Sniper, free as a lark. He’d meant every word he’d said to her, he’d felt the hate, the anger, and even the grief that came with cutting her out of his life, but he didn’t regret it. He couldn’t regret it.

There was so much more to his life than this one job, there was so much more to his life than the needs of Miss Pauling, and there was so much more to his life than the so-called safety of the world. Gray be damned, Pauling be damned, the world be damned, Spy didn’t need, or care, about any of it. His only concern was for his team, for his lover, and for the men he still needed to find, and with Miss Pauling out of the way, there was absolutely nothing that would stop him now.

He was free, he had time, and he had a purpose, a true, wonderful purpose in this amazing life he now had.

“I know where Ludwig is!”

Spy’s world froze.

He froze.

His soul froze.

Snake to a snake, liar to a liar, killer to a killer, Spy knew damn well the difference between a desperate lie, and a well played trump card.

Standing very still, Spy let the words sink into his heart, mind, and soul, allowing the severity of such words to truly be understood within him. Ludwig was alive, that was the most important message he got from her confession, and that relieved a burden he had been carrying for a long, long time. However, one burden was very quickly replaced with another, and already his heart was starting to harden, the darkest depths of his mind rushing forward all at once.

As quickly as he’d turned away from Miss Pauling, he turned back to her, seeing within her a fire that had been dormant, seeing within her a hurt now sharped to a point, a power that she’d once lost, but now recovered. Her tears were still fresh on her face, and if Spy didn’t know any better he’d say they were still falling, but her expression no longer held the sorrow it once did.

No, Miss Pauling was what she had always been, a cold hearted, calculating killer, just like him.

“Where is he?” Spy asked calmly, too calmly even for his liking, knowing full well he was going to snap at any moment. Miss Pauling didn’t say a word, she just stood perfectly still, raising her head just a bit higher, narrowing her eyes just enough to notice. Once again, fear and dread began to slither into Spy’s heart, for he knew full well she wasn’t going to talk, not until she got what she wanted.

“Pauling, where is he?” Spy demanded, now walking towards her with purpose, with hatred, with the fury of a thousand men. This would not happen, he would not be coerced into doing her bidding, not like this. Pauling be damned, he would make her talk if he had to, he would force her to reveal where his missing friend was. However, Miss Pauling didn’t move, her stance didn’t change, her expression never faltered, and her determination remained strong.

“WHERE IS HE!!!” Spy shouted, grabbing her by her shoulders and forcing her close, searching for a sign of weakness, searching for a sign that she was unresolved, that maybe, just maybe, she would falter under the right torture. More tears streamed down her face, but she said nothing, her eyes revealing her true strength, swearing to Spy that she would never falter, and that she would never talk.

She had no reason to live, this was it, avenging the Administrator and stopping Gray were the only things keeping Miss Pauling going, and she would not fail.

This was checkmate, this was something Spy could not refuse.

“I don’t need you, I can find him myself.” Spy whispered hoarsely, more to himself than to Miss Pauling, trying to rationalize himself, trying to find a way out of this snare.

“You won’t.” Miss Pauling promised, her voice unreadable, and steady. “Spy, I promise you, wherever you think he is, whoever you think has taken him, it’s not what you think. You wanna find him? You wanna see him again? You do exactly as I say, and once this over, once every last ounce of australuim is wiped of this planet, I will tell you how to find him.”

She was right. She was telling the truth.

If it had been so simple, if this was something he could comprehend, he would’ve found Ludwig a long time ago, but he hadn’t. Long ago he’d once told Heavy that he believed that the good doctor would be revealed in time, that they would never find him without some sort of sign or divine intervention. Well, here it was, here stood the answer as to what had happened to Ludwig, so close, yet so incredibly far away, within the grasp of a snake.

There was no longer a choice, there was no longer freedom.

“Where is Engineer?” Spy asked quietly, still searching for something, anything that could give him an out, just wanting to be rid of this woman, wanting to complete his team without her influence. “I’m not sure,” Miss Pauling answered honestly, “I think I know, but I don’t know for certain.” Spy simply nodded, understanding that there was a chance he may find both men, and that he truly had no choice about how he found them

His freedom was gone.

With a heavy heart, Spy let go of Miss Pauling and took a few steps back, once again bending to her will, once again letting his fate become tied to hers. It was such a horrible feeling, and once again he was aware of every fiber in his being, but he wasn’t numb, not anymore, instead it felt like his entire being was on fire. Terrible, hot, torturous hellfire.

Miss Pauling merely gave an understanding nod, then grabbed a phone off her belt and tossed it to Spy, who caught it with ease. “We’ll use that to communicate, just you and me. If somehow you get compromised, destroy it, I’ll be sure to replace it if you ever get uncompromised.”
“Understood.” Spy replied coldly, wanting nothing more than to take his revolver and shoot her where she stood. “Will that be all?”
“For now, yes. I’m still figuring out a way to get you all to Australia, and once I have that I’ll let you know.”

Spy simply nodded, and began to walk away again. He was furious, beyond furious, he wasn’t even sure there was a word that could describe the emotion he was feeling. Once again, everything was out of his control, he was being played, and there was absolutely nothing he could do other than cooperate. If there was even the slightest chance of finding his men, he had to take it, he could never call himself their leader if he forsook them.

What the hell was he going to tell his team? How the hell was he going to explain that their new mission only existed because of Miss Pauling’s need for blind vengeance? He’d have to think of a lie, something simple that they would all believe, with enough truth mixed in to wade off suspicions. If Heavy found out about the truth, there was no way he wouldn’t hunt down Miss Pauling and try to force her to talk, hell, the entire team could very well mutiny.

They just didn’t understand her the way Spy did, they didn’t understand that her loyalties, her devotions, her entire being was centred around a dead woman's mysterious goal. Life meant nothing to her anymore, perhaps it never really had, all she knew was this, all she cared about the Administrator. She would never talk, for she had nothing to lose.

He was going to kill her, after everything was done, once everyone was safe, he was going to kill her, and he would not think twice about it. Truly, there were no words to describe the deepness of his hate, the expanse of his fury, the hurt within his very soul. It felt like he would explode at any moment, like at any moment he would turn and shoot her dead, and be done with her forever. My God, it would be so easy, it would be so easy to be rid of her.

But he would never do that, and Miss Pauling knew it.

Chapter Text

“Whoawhoawhoawhoawhoa… Whoa… Back up the truck… Lemme just… gimme a moment to git this straight… The Administrator’s dead, Pauling’s alive and in need of our help, this Gray fella wants us dead due to association, and now we gotta travel all ova the down unda to… uh… what was the last bit?”
“Destroy all the Australuim so that Gray Mann cannot maintain his immortality.”
“Ah, got it, that makes sense… IMMORTALITY?!?!?”

When the Red team had awoken that morning, they hadn’t been expecting their carefully made plans to be blown up in their faces, but then again, they probably should have. However, nothing could have prepared them for the fact that not only had Miss Pauling shown her face, but that she actually had one last mission for them. The mission itself was on a scale none of them had ever partaken in before, let alone one with such a powerful individual trying to specifically kill them. Sure, people had tried to kill them before, but not like this, not with such passionless, corporate, unyielding purpose, just wanting them dead like one wanted a fly dead.

Despite all this, the most important part of this new situation to Medic was that Miss Pauling was alive, and for the meantime, safe. He had worried about her, he truly had, and it eased his heart to know that she was ok, wherever she was.

It would be impossible to deny the fact that things had gotten… a bit strained between them, after all he hadn’t even heard from her since she’d signed him on with the Red company, but that didn’t erase the past between them. He had wanted to call her, he had wanted to tell her about how life was with the Red team, to catch up with her, to just try and rebuild their relationship.

Alas, something deep within him told him that it wouldn’t be a smart idea, after all, he’d jeopardized her job enough just by being with the Red team, who knew what the Administrator would’ve done if she found out what she’d done for him. Medic had determined that it would’ve been too risky to continue speaking with her, and that when she was ready, Miss Pauling would reach out to him. He didn’t like that, he didn’t like putting the responsibility of their relationship onto Miss Pauling, but he didn’t dare put her in harm's way, not now that he knew that there was so much more going on.

However, the Administrator was dead now, so there wasn’t any reason to worry about putting her job, or life, at risk. It truly was such a freeing feeling, knowing that the war was over, knowing that it didn’t matter that he’d worked for Blu, and knowing that for the first time in a long time, the future was his to do what he pleased with. Granted, there was this one last mission that could quite possibly kill all of them within a day, but Medic knew that they could do it, they’d done so much already.

Besides, at least Scout seemed enthusiastic about it, albeit for the wrong reasons.

“Like, real immortality?” Scout pressed again, causing an already irritated Spy to look far more irritated, “Jesus Christ… I say we help, and uh, maybe nab soma that shit for ourselves, huh? I mean… Spy, we could be immortal!”

“And why on earth would I want to live forever?” Spy asked callously, an edge to his voice that Medic deemed entirely unnecessary, “Why on earth would I want to prolong my life long enough to watch the world around me waste away to nothing, while those I hold closest die around me? Besides, one day there will be no more australium, for you’ll have used it all, and then what? You’ll be left to die alone, hated, and quite possibly a mere husk of your former self. Is that what you want?”

“Jesus Christ!” Scout exclaimed with horror, “Where the hell did that come from? I was just thinkin’ out loud, jeez!”
“That’s not what it sounded like, but I digress.” Spy replied curtly, taking a drag of his cigarette before exhaling the smoke quietly. “Besides, Miss Pauling wants it destroyed, not used for our personal gain, and surely you have enough respect for her to follow her orders?”
“What got up your ass this mornin’…” Scout muttered, before getting a sly face and smugly remarking, “Oh wait, I think I know.”

Spy was quick to make an attempt at slapping Scout, but Scout had foreseen the attack and was quick to dodge, chuckling mockingly as he did so. However, what he didn’t foresee was Demo and Heavy, who had both taken a step forward, to slap him on the backside of his head, knocking him to the ground instantly.

“Scout, ya gotta know by now,” Sniper stated while Scout groaned into the snow, “every time ya insult Spy with sex joke, you’re now also insultin’ Medic, and uh, I don’t think anyone else is gonna take too kindly to that.”
“Crap… you’re right, you’re totally right… Doc’s had enough insults for one lifetime…” Scout groaned, all while Medic’s face grew redder with every passing moment, “It’s just so fuckin’ easy, and it’s so fuckin’ funny…”
“I know, I know, but think about the doc.”
“... Crap… Doc, would ya be willin’ to negotiate some kinda agreement about how I can go about insulin’ your hubby?”

“Uh… Well, uh…” Medic stammered out, not sure where to look, and feeling quite embarrassed. “Ok… we’ll talk about it privately… Sorry for puttin’ ya on the spot like that… both times.”
“Danke, Scout… and all is forgiven.” Medic said, a bit unsure of how to feel about the situation, now glancing over to Heavy and Demo, and saw that Heavy was giving a nod of approval, while Demo gave a thumbs up with his usual grin. It felt good knowing he had friends like them, even if he didn’t quite approve of their… violent tendencies.

“Can we please get back to the original conversation?” Spy asked rather angrily, instantly getting everyone's attention, for better or for worse. Seeing this, Spy sighed and ran a hand over his face, before quietly saying, “Forgive me, there… there has been a lot on my mind, I do not mean to be so harsh. The fact of the matter is that this… this mission is dangerous, there are a lot of unknown factors, and it is on a continent that only one of us knows anything about, which happens to be the deadliest continent in the world. I don’t like it, but the way I see it, we don’t have much of a choice.”

“Question!” Soldier declared, causing all eyes to turn to him. Spy waited for him to speak, then gave an irritated groan before asking, “Yes, Soldier?”
“How are we going to get to Australia! Last I checked we have no way of getting on a plane without the Russian spies detecting us, and there is no way we are going to sail across the pacific blue without losing Heavy along the way!”

“Why Heavy?” Heavy asked. “Because last I checked, Russians can’t swim! Their rivers and lakes are always frozen over!” Heavy opened his mouth to protest, then paused, before letting an irritated look fall over his face. “Da, Heavy cannot swim… But is not because rivers and lakes are froze year-round!”
“Last I checked denial was a river in Egypt! Your lakes and rivers are indeed frozen year-round, Stalingrad!”

“To answer your original question, Soldier,” Spy said with clearly tired patience, “I don’t know. Miss Pauling told me that she would figure out a way to ship us all down there, so until I hear from her, we will unfortunately be on standby… That reminds me, there’s something I need to ask all of you, just in case the army does ever catch any one of us.”

Once again everyone's attention turned to Spy, who seemed to be growing more irked by the minute. That didn’t sit right with Medic, he felt like there was something Spy wasn’t saying, that there was more going on than what he’d told them. He trusted Spy, he trusted him with his life, he trusted Spy to take care of the team, and he trusted him to lead them through this situation they found themselves in. However, he also knew that Spy was one to hold secrets, and that he had no problem with being dishonest in order to protect whatever secret he deemed important. Alas, there was nothing he could do at the moment, so he’d just have to wait until they were alone together.

“What is everyone's current citizenship status? How many of you are actually US citizens, and how many of you are here illegally?” Spy asked cautiously, keeping a very close eye on Soldier, who was keeping a very close eye on Heavy, who in turn was also keeping a very close eye on Soldier. “Well, obviously I’m a citizen, and so’s Soldier, so that’s two,” Scout said while doing some quick math, “Pyro, how ‘bout you?”

Pyro gave a quick affirmative, though Spy looked skeptical. “Would that mean you are a US citizen, or that you have the paperwork necessary to be here?” Spy asked curiously, to which Pyro gave some further, yet short, elaboration in a bit of a prissy voice, clearly annoyed at Spy’s lack of trust. “The dude says he’s good, and that’s all ya need to know.” Scout translated, using the exact tone Pyro had used.

“Good to know,” Spy sighed, clearly not having the strength to push back, “Demo, what about you?”
“I’ve got dual citizenship, both in Scotland, and in the US.” Demo confirmed proudly, causing Spy to turn his attention towards Heavy next. “Heavy is not citizen,” Heavy explained, “however, when Heavy first signed on with Red, Administrator told me that she would take care of paperwork, and she did.”
“Does it still hold up?”
“Heavy is not sure, not with Gray having influence over army, but that was long time ago, they probably didn’t think of it.”
“Let’s hope you’re right, doctor, what about you?”

“I am happy to say I gained my citizenship in 1968, just in time for the election.” Medic also declared with pride, to which Spy gave a small smile and a nod. “You’re a US citizen! I had no idea!” Soldier exclaimed with joyous surprise, “You have my apologies for calling you a communist, and for treating you as such!”
“Danke, and don’t worry about the past, it’s all forgiven.” Medic assured, giving Soldier a kind smile as he said this.

“So far, so good,” Spy muttered, before turning to Sniper and saying, “I’m going to assume you’re all set?” When everyone turned towards Sniper, none of them quite expected to see what they saw, which was Sniper looking like a deer in the headlights, while standing incredibly still, too still for anyone's liking. “Sniper?” Spy asked, looking both concerned and a bit shocked at his friend's lack of response.

“Uh… well… How do I put this… Uh…Uhhh…” Sniper muttered, and for a moment, Medic could’ve sworn he saw Spy go through the four of the fives stages of grief, clearly not accepting Sniper's current citizenship status. “Well… I came here on a visa some time back, and uh… yeah.”
“You came here on a visa?” Spy asked calmly, but not the type of calm that meant he was actually calm, “Then what?”
“I stayed.” Sniper explained quickly, and it was the rest of the team's turn to look at him with some confusion.

“What do you mean, ‘you stayed’?” Spy asked again, and Sniper simply turned his gaze to the ground to avoid the daggers that were being shot his way. “I uh… I ain’t exactly supposed to be here… I came ‘ere in ‘65, and uh… never left.”

No one said anything for a moment, just taking in what Sniper had just confessed, before Demo quickly exclaimed, “So what! We all got our reasons for bein’ here, Snipes just happens to be a bit personal! And really, is it that big a deal that it’s Sniper? I mean he’ll be deported to Australia if he’s caught, but we’re headed there anyway! I say we cut the lad some slack, and stop grillin’ ‘im so hard, eh?”

“I just… I didn’t expect to have this sort of problem with you.” Spy stated in an almost disappointed manner. “Yeah, well, that’s how it is sometimes.” Sniper muttered quietly, which was enough to cause Medic to give Spy a look that encouraged him not to press the matter anymore. Upon seeing this look, Spy gave a reluctant sigh and said, “Well, no matter, there’s nothing to be done about it. In the meantime, why don’t we start to make this place a bit more habitable, seeing as it may be a while before we hear from Miss Pauling.”

So that’s what they did, the Red team spent the morning making their little hideout a bit more livable. Sniper's van was nice, but no one wanted to stay in there longer than absolutely necessary, and besides, Sniper wanted to properly clean out the back in order to make it acceptable for those occupying it, and definitely not just because he was worried they would scratch anything or get anything filthy.

By the time noon rolled around, everyone was taking a quick lunch break, simply eating and discussing what to expect in Australia, and how they might avoid Gray. Lunch consisted of little more than some deli meat sandwiches, but that would have to do for the time being.

It was while they ate that Medic noticed that there was definitely something wrong with Spy, something within his eyes revealing a deep, troubled anger in his soul. Something else had happened last night, something had been discussed with Miss Pauling other than their next mission, Medic was sure of it.

He wasn’t entirely certain about what kind of relationship Spy and Miss Pauling had with one another, though he recalled Spy had mentioned that they’d been good friends on the night of their date, for lack of a better word. Aside from that, they appeared to be strictly professional, with some clear lines of distrust running between them, though for how long those had been forming was well beyond Medic.

In a way, they were rather similar to one another, each holding their secrets close, and each holding themselves distant if things became too personal. At least Spy hadn’t kept distance forever, but Pauling… Well, Medic had faith in her, he knew that deep down, she was a good person, just like Spy.

In the meantime though, Medic’s concerns fell to Spy, as well as the concern that Spy might not be willing to talk with him, and that he may very well bury whatever had happened and keep it to himself. Medic could handle secrets, he understood that he may very well never see the face of the man he loved, but this was different, this had to do with all of them. Relationships were built on trust and understanding, and Medic trusted Spy with his life, he just hoped Spy felt the same about him.

“Ok, I’ve been thinkin’,” Scout murmured while chewing his food, “how the heck are we gonna be able to get Snipe’s van to Australia? I mean, there ain’t a lot of planes that can hold somethin’ like that.”
“We’ll figure it out, Pauling’s good like that.” Sniper quickly stated, clearly not liking the thought of having to leave his van behind. “Dude, I’m being serious,” Scout continued obliviously, though quite seriously, “we’re gonna need some kinda ride out there in the bush, and last I checked, renting vehicles for that kinda trek ain’t cheap, or, ya know, inconspicuous.”

“The lad’s got a point,” Demo agreed, “if we do end up over there, we’re gonna need a good ride, and Snipe’s van is the best we got.”
“I’m sure Miss Pauling has it all figured out,” Spy stated in a potently sarcastic voice, “after all, she is our ever-knowing employer.”

Medic couldn’t help but throw a suspicious glance his way, trying to read his face and get some idea as to what was really bugging him. However, Spy quickly saw it, and he didn’t even acknowledge it before looking away. That only worsened Medic’s suspicions, so he continued to stare at him, hoping for some kind of response, even just a sign that they would talk about it later. Perhaps unsurprisingly, he got nothing.

“Hey… Hey waitaminute, I think I got an idea!” Scout suddenly exclaimed with far more energy than anyone had at the moment. “We need a way over to Australia, right? And we need a bird big enough to get us there, right?”
“Da, and da.” Heavy replied, hoping to get ahead of Spy’s irritation, which was already brewing again. “Ok, here me out,” Scout explained giddily, practically bouncing from excitement, “I got a brother who’s a pilot, and he flies those huge ass planes all ova the place! I bet if I gave ‘im a call, he’d be willin’ to take us, and the van, ova to Australia!”

All eyes turned to Spy, who sat quietly as he mulled over what Scout had just said, before lighting another cigarette and taking a slow drag from it. Once he released the smoke, he turned to Scout and asked, “This brother of yours… How much do you trust him?”

“Oh, I trust him with my life!” Scout promised, and he sounded very earnest about it, “He’s not just any big brother, he’s the biggest brother! The oldest kid, he’s been looking out for and coverin’ my shit for a long ass time, trust me, he ain’t gonna snitch.”

Spy simply looked at Scout for a moment, smoking quietly as he did so, clearly not quite trusting the young man’s idea of what his brother thought of him. Seeing this, Medic turned to Scout and carefully asked, “When was the last time you spoke with him?”
“Uh… Ya know, it’s been a little bit, but ya know, we’ve all got our own lives and shit, so uh… Yeah, it’s been a while, but I know he’s still flyin’.”

“Scout, does your brother like you?” Spy asked bluntly, this time eliciting an elbow to the gut from Medic, as well as another warning glance. “Uh, yeah, of course he likes me, what’s not to like?” Scout asked harshly, now giving Spy a nasty look. “I…” but Spy was stopped by Medic giving him quite possibly the hardest stare he’d ever received from him before. It stayed like this for a moment, Medic eyeing Spy, and Spy simply staring back quietly, and everyone around them sat very still. They weren’t sure what they were waiting for, they were just waiting.

“I’m certain that there are… brotherly bonds that are built between siblings that… change relationship dynamics.” Spy finally said flatly, though he kept his eye contact with Medic as he said this, and his tone indicated that he didn’t mean a word of it. Scout looked between the two of them for a moment, then smirked and elbowed Pyro, before both men snickered between themselves.

“Dare I ask what’s so funny?” Spy asked with venomous curiosity, now turning his attention to Scout. “Nothin’,” Scour replied with a straight voice and even tone, “nohtin’ at all. Anyhow, I’m thinkin’ that we should go to town so I can hit a payphone, maybe git somethin’ to eat other than a ham and cheese sandwich.”

“Dare I ask what’s wrong with the ham and cheese I was so kind to buy us?” Sniper asked with a hint of annoyance, and Medic found he couldn’t really blame him for it. “Nothin’,” Scout assured as he took another bite of his sandwich, “I just want some other shit, ya know, chips, soda, maybe a bit of candy?”
“I swear ya got the diet of an actual kid sometimes.”
“Nah, I just know how to appreciate the good shit, unlike you.”

It didn’t take them long to find an inconspicuous gas station with a payphone outside, and after providing Scout with the quarters needed to make the call, Spy, Medic, and Heavy all waited outside the phone, patiently waiting for whatever happened next. In truth, Medic didn't have much faith in Scout’s pilot brother, nor did he have faith that the two men had an actual relationship, but then again, he didn’t know much about grown sibling relationships, so he decided not to voice anything out loud.

Instead, he just watched quietly as Scout began to dial for his brother, half wondering if somehow this was a very bad idea due to the fact that Scout’s brother could very well turn them in. He wasn’t alone in these thoughts either, for Heavy also seemed a bit apprehensive, and once again Spy just looked furious. Medic looked forward to figuring out why.

“Hey, Al! It’s me, Jeremy!” Scout finally said into the phone after waiting a while for the call to go through, his usual cocky smile on his face as he leaned against the phone booth, “Long time no see, huh? Anyhow, I know it’s been a while but-”

Scout suddenly went quiet, and listened for a moment before saying, “Hello? Dude?” There was a moment of awkward silence, before Scout silently began to put more quarters into the machine, trying hard to look positive. “Heh, some kinda connection error, stupid operators.” Scout explained with a small chuckle, but Spy clearly didn’t buy it.

Another minute passed before Scout began to speak again, quickly saying, “Hey Al, Jeremy again, I lost ya there for a sec, some kinda connection error, anyhow, like I was tryin’ to say earlier, you’re not-”

Again, Scout went silent, now fidgeting with the cord of the phone before saying, “Hello? Albert? Ya there pal?”
“Does Scout need more quarters?” Heavy asked, watching as Scout began to nervously put more into the machine. “Nah, I’ll be fine, thanks though.” he replied, his foot bouncing up and down nervously as he began to wait for the phone to pick up again. Despite himself, Medic couldn’t help but feel as though this was a waste of quarters, and that there wasn’t a connection error.

“AL PLEASE DON’T HANG UP!!!” Scout shouted desperately into the phone, nearly causing Medic to jump out of his skin as he yelped in surprise. There was a pause, a long, terribly awkward pause, before Scout said in an unusually apologetic tone, “Ok, I know we ain’t exactly… ya know… pals, not since way back when, but dude, I’m in a pickle, and before ya ask, no, I did not get myself into this one, it kinda just fell on me.”

None of them could hear the other side of the conversation, but based on Scout’s expression, they weren’t screwed yet, and his brother could actually be talking to him. “Dude, the news is fulla shit, I ain’t some fuckin’ terrorist- … The fuck! I did not kill Santa! That’s- Oh wait, no, I know exactly what you’re talkin’ about, that was Ol’ Nick, the spirit of Australian Christmas… Yeah that’s a thing… Shut up!… Ok, I’m sorry, can we get back to my original point, please?”

So far, so good, it appeared as though they actually had a chance at getting a ride. Granted, the man’s loyalties were still in question, but that was an easy enough thing to figure out, one way, or another. Either way, progress was being made, and by the sound of it, things were going their way.

“Uh huh, uh huh… yeah, fair enough, dude, I get that… Look, I didn’t mean to-... Alright, that’s fair… YA WILL!!! Albert, Albert my dude, ya don’t know-... Ok, ok yeah, talk first, probable flight second, I get that, but dude, ya don’t know what you’re doin’ for me! You are seriously a lifesaver right now!... Uh huh, yeah, yeah sure… Uh, I ain’t sure, day or two I bet, depends on traffic and how hot the army is on our tail… Alright, sounds like a plan! See ya then pally!”

Scout was about to hang up, nearly bouncing due to his excitement, before he quickly asked into the phone, “Oh, crap I nearly forgot to ask, how’s ya girl doin’?... KIDS!?!? YA MEAN I’M AN UNCLE!?!? HOLY CRAP THAT’S AWESOME, CONGRATS DUDE!!! Can I see ‘em when I get down there???... Yeah, yeah fair enough, but maybe some other time, yeah?... Alright! Dude, you’re the freakin’ best, I’ll see ya in a bit!”

With that, Scout officially hung up, and turned to his companions and proudly declared, “Alright, I got us a ride! Told ya I could make it happen!”
“The word, ‘probable’, was thrown into that conversation,” Spy commented coldly, “so just how guaranteed is this flight?”
“Very, very probable,” Scout quickly assured, “I just gotta go talk with Al, get all the facts straight, and once he hears the well and solid truth, we’ll be on our way!”

To say Spy looked skeptical would be an understatement, but seeing as there weren’t any other options, save waiting for Miss Pauling to pull through, he gave a very reluctant sigh and said, “Very well, where exactly is your brother?”
“Uh, it’s a bit of a drive, but he’s in San Francisco.”
“California?”
“Nah, San Francisco Rhode Island, duh… Of course San Francisco California! What other San Francisco is there!”

Spy simply rolled his eyes at the comment, before declaring a bit harshly, “Well if that’s the case, I’m going to go update Pauling on what’s going on, don’t leave without me.” No sooner had the words left Spy’s mouth when he began to walk away into the woods for some privacy, lighting a cigarette as he went.

“Jeez, someone woke up on the wrong side’a the bed.” Scout muttered, and Heavy simply nodded in agreement. “You’re right, and if you don’t mind, I’m going to go figure out why.” Medic stated with a bit of frustration, before following his lover into the woods. “Good luck with that doc, you’re gonna need it!” Scout called out, but Medic simply ignored the comment, too focused on figuring out the best way to approach Spy.

He didn’t intend on listening to his and Pauling's conversation, that would just be rude, but he did intend on catching him once his call was finished, that way they would be alone. All he wanted was an explanation, just an answer as to what was bothering him so much, surely it wouldn’t be that hard to get, right?

It probably would be, but hey, he knew what he was getting into when he had chosen to love this man.

Once he had eyes on Spy, he stopped, and waited patiently for his call with Pauling to end. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, though he wished he could. He’d kill to have an actual conversation with her, to just understand what was going on in her life, to figure out if she was really ok, or just saying she was.

That was another thing her and Spy had in common, they both had a tendency to not share their true feelings, and just bottle up their larger emotions until something caved or they just exploded, well, at least Pauling exploded anyway. He’d only seen it twice in their years of friendship, but when she’d had enough, it showed, and she had no problem holding back. Spy on the other hand… he hadn’t known him long enough yet, though he looked forward to the day Spy would trust him enough to show him his true heart and mind.

He’d just have to be patient, which was something he was more than capable of doing.

“May I help you?” Spy’s voice instantly snapped Medic from his own mind and back to reality, which currently involved Spy staring at him with great unamusement. “Ah, Spy! Sorry, I didn’t… I was just waiting for you to finish your conversation.” Medic explained, now making his way closer to Spy in order to have a proper conversation. Spy merely gave a small smile in return, something in his eyes softening, just a little. “I appreciate that,” Spy said kindly, letting some smoke blow from his lips as he walked to meet Medic, “now, what was it that you wanted to talk about?”

Medic had hoped that Spy would simply know what he wanted to talk about, but alas, he should’ve known that Spy would never willingly bring up his foul mood, so with as much care as he could muster, Medic explained, “Well, you’ve just seemed rather… It seems to me that something’s on your mind, which has in turn affected how you’re treating the team, Scout specifically, and I was just wondering what was going on. I know something’s bothering you, it’s rather obvious, I just want to know what that is.”

That softness that had entered Spy’s eyes was quick to leave, something a bit more somber replacing it as he turned his gaze away, taking a deep drag from his cigarette as he did so. “Bitte, Spy,” Medic continued softly, “whatever has happened, whatever is troubling you, you can tell me, you don’t have to do this alone. Whatever angers you, whatever frightens you, I can help you with it, even if it just means I listen as you talk. I… I don’t want-”

“Doctor, mon amour,” Spy interrupted, his gaze now upon Medic, having softened once again, though it wasn’t the same as before, it seemed less genuine, “there is nothing for you to worry about, I promise. There has just… there’s just been a lot on my mind, and I didn’t sleep very well last night. You’re right, I have been rather harsh towards Scout today, I’ll be sure to apologize to him, and I am sorry that I’ve been harsh in general, I don’t mean to be.”

“Spy, I know something’s wrong,” Medic pressed, unsure of how he could make him understand that he was there for him, “you don’t have to hide it… I love you, and I respect that you have secrets, I really do, but this… this isn’t your past, this our present, and I don’t want-”

“Doctor, I assure you,” Spy once again interpreted, leaving Medic just a bit frustrated, “there is nothing for you to worry about, I’m fine. If it was truly important, if I truly was in distress, I would tell you.”
“Spy-”
“Mon amour, I am simply tired, and stressed, nothing more. I promise you, I am ok, and I just need some proper rest, and a bit of time away from the rest of the team. You trust me, don’t you?”

Medic did trust him, he trusted him so very much, but he knew he was lying, he knew that there was something else going on. Something had happened with Miss Pauling, something was causing Spy to be this way, he knew it, but… but if Spy wasn’t willing to tell him, then what more could he do?

Perhaps in time Spy would tell him, maybe he just needed some time alone to process what had happened, then he would come to him to discuss what had happened. It was wishful thinking, and he knew it, but he couldn’t force the man to talk, and he certainly wasn’t about to back him into a corner.

With great reluctance, Medic gave a soft sigh and a small smile, before assuring his lover, “Of course I trust you.”
“Good, then trust me when I tell you that there is nothing for you to worry about,” Spy promised, before placing a tender kiss upon Medics head, “like I said, if there was, I would come to you. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to be alone for a little bit, just to… just to have some peace and time to myself, you understand, right?”
“I… I do. I’ll see you in a little bit then, stay safe.”

With that, Medic gave his lover a quick kiss, then turned and began to make his way back to the van, his heart heavy within his chest. He knew he’d been lied to, but what else could he do? He hated that, he hated that Spy didn’t trust him yet, but perhaps he just needed to be patient, perhaps time was all that was needed. God, he really hoped that was the case.

***

Spy was going to explode.

He was certain of it, he was certain that at any moment he was going to scream and curse to the heavens, unable to contain the fury within his soul.

Once again, Miss Pauling had a say over everything in his life, once again his team was in danger, and once again nothing was in his control. The worst part about all of this was that he had every opportunity to say no to her, that he could very easily tell her to fuck herself and be done with her, but he couldn’t, no, he wouldn’t.

Ludwig, the man who’d been missing for over two months at this point, was now within his grasp, was now so close to being found, and all he had to do was follow Miss Pauling's orders one last time. Ludwig, that madman, that crazed, wonderful lunatic, truly a blight upon humanity and all who dared cross him, but he was family nonetheless, a truly irreplaceable man. What could possibly be able to contain him? Who could've been able to survive so long with that man as a prisoner?

Spy once read a book recommended to him by Charlotte, one titled, ‘The Last Unicorn’, and despite himself he’d read it. He’d thought it was a wonderful book, one that he often found himself re-reading during the wintertime. It had been one of the books he’d given Medic back when he was still their prisoner. There was something within that book that reminded him of Ludwig, something that rang true to his very core. The Harpy.

The Harpy had been captured by an old witch, keeping her as the only true mythical creature in her otherwise sham of a zoo, one that held regular animals disguised as legendary creatures through magic. The Harpy was barely contained, yearning for revenge, for freedom, and every night she watched the old witch with the intent to kill.

It was only when the Unicorn set her free was she allowed her revenge, only when another mythical beast acted was the Harpy allowed to take her revenge against the witch, who mocked her even with her final breath, reminding the Harpy of who’d contained her, of who had held her from the skies.

When Spy thought of Ludwig and his unknown whereabouts, he wondered when a unicorn would find him, when a unicorn would help him escape, and when this madman and all his fury would take revenge against his captor, with the unknowing help of a unicorn.

Miss Pauling wasn’t the unicorn, that much he was certain of, she played a different role within this story, though he didn’t think she was the old witch either. No, no she was beyond that story, a messenger, a key bearer, a harbinger, nothing more. If Spy was being honest with himself, he couldn’t help but feel like the Harpy, trapped, and waiting for his own unicorn to set him free, so that he too could take revenge against the one who held him down.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to fight, he wanted to do anything other than give in to this woman, but there were no unicorns, there were no witches, and there most certainly wasn’t any harpies. No, there was only this, only this world and all her tricks, lies, and blindness, a world that just loved playing with his soul and all its uncertainties.

Ludwig and Engineer, the two missing men, his greatest failures as a leader, haunting him, mocking him, reminding him of why he didn't hold people close. At least Ludwig was within his grasp, at least he had some hope in completing his team. Engineer on the other hand… Well, maybe he would be Ludwigs unicorn, maybe the two would find each other, and make things right as one.

What a wonderful thought, it was nearly enough to dissipate Spy’s anger, nearly.

As Spy smoked, he felt himself growing rather hot, and terribly uncomfortable, as though everything was just too small, though what was too small was beyond him. It just wasn’t right, it wasn’t right that Miss Pauling could hold this over him, that she could hold their very lives in the palm of her hand.

It sickened him.

What sickened him more was the knowledge that had the roles been reversed, he would’ve felt like a god. He would’ve cherished the power, the high, the fear within his victims eyes and soul, he would’ve enjoyed that feeling of having control over another person's life. Control, that’s what he would’ve loved the most, he would’ve loved the control.

My God, he was sick, and he knew it.

He had to let go of his need for control, he had to let go of his anger before it drove him apart, he had to simply accept that this was his reality, and that he could not hold this much hatred forever…

But he couldn’t, he just couldn’t.

The day he found Ludwig was the day the Harpy would be released, and there would be carnage. He couldn’t say the same would be true with Engineer, that just wasn’t who he was, and it would take quite a bit for him to truly seek violent revenge, but if he did seek it…

Spy was going to explode.

“Ok, ok enough is enough, Spy, what the fuck is goin’ on?”

Hearing Sniper’s voice brought Spy no comfort whatsoever, in fact, it only infuriated him more. My God, Spy was going to snap.

“Mundy, go away.” Spy ordered as calmly as he could, knowing his voice was no longer in check, and that he couldn’t hide the hatred within it. “No, no I ain’t doin’ this shit, not after last night,” Sniper shot back, still walking towards Spy with determination, “I was patient, I was awful patient, you told me we wouldn’t talk about it, and I said fine, but Spy, this ain’t fine. What the fuck did Pauling do?”

“Mundy. Drop it. Now.” Spy ordered, still facing away from his good friend, still refusing to look him in the eye. “No. No, I ain’t doin’ that shit, not after all the bullshit I’ve been through for you! I know you! I know you pretty damn good, I know for fact that you would’ve never agreed to help her without reason, so what’s the reason, eh? What forced your hand!”

“Mundy. Stop.”

“Spy, I’ve been dealin’ with this mess since you first stepped into it, I was the one who told ya it was a bad idea, remember? I was the one who told you not to fucking call her, remember that! I’ve been walkin’ with you through this fucking mess since you got into it, I gotta right to know what the fuck’s going on!!! You can’t do this to me, I won’t let you! Spy, what happened!!!”

Sniper was shouting now, his shaking voice holding a panicked anger that mirrored Spy’s. Sniper was right, he did have the right to know, he had walked with him through this entire mess, and he certainly had been patient, so incredibly patient.

Mick Mundy, a good friend, a confidant, a brother, a son, and most of all, a damn good man.

“... I’m going to kill her.” Spy finally said, his voice shaking as he spoke, his body trembling with barely contained rage. “I know you are, mate, I know you’re gonna kill ‘er, but why?” Sniper asked, his tone now holding patience, dare he think it, worry. “... I’m going to kill her, Mundy, I’m going to kill her.”

Spy then finally turned around, breathing heavily as his shaking got worse, tears now forming in his eyes, too much emotion within him to be contained. “I’m going to kill her, I’m going to kill her!” Spy began to shout, and Sniper stayed quiet, listening, waiting, letting his good friend explode, letting his good friend finally collapse.

“SHE CAN’T DO THIS!!!! SHE CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!!! SHE HAS NO RIGHT!!!! SHE JUST CAN’T!!! WAS I NOT HER FRIEND!?!? DID I TRULY MEAN SO LITTLE TO HER!?!?! WAS IT TRULY ALL A RUSE!?!?! MY GOD, WHERE IS THE HUMANITY!!!! WHERE IS THE RESPECT ALL MEN ARE SUPPOSED TO SHARE FOR ONE ANOTHER!!!! DOESN’T SHE KNOW WHAT HE MEANS TO ME!!!! DOESN’T SHE UNDERSTAND HOW HARD I’VE BEEN LOOKING!!!!... SHE CAN’T DO THIS!!!”

“Mate, whaddya talkin’ about? W-whaddya mean lookin’?” Sniper suddenly asked, the realization of what Spy was talking about hitting him hard. Spy said nothing for a moment, he just couldn’t, too out of breath, too furious, too overwhelmed, so he just focused on collecting himself, on trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Mate, mate what happened?” Sniper pressed again, a slight panic now entering his voice, his eyes showing nothing but shocked fear.

Spy was shaking his head now, trying to take long drags of his cigarette to calm himself, trying to blink back the tears that just kept spilling from him. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but constantly shift his weight and position, just trying to find something to do with himself, trying to calm himself down. It was so much, there were just so many emotions coursing through his veins, drowning him, engulfing him wholly, threatening to kill him then and there.

“Mundy… Mundy, she knows where Ludwig is… She knows where he is, and she refuses to tell me!!!” Spy shrieked, his hatred, his sorrow, his fears and his fury all mixing in with one another, all consuming him wholly. “She knows where he is, and she won’t tell me!!! Not unless I do… I do this for her!!! Mundy, Mundy I have no choice! I have to find him! I can’t… I can’t!!!”

Words now failed him, he just couldn’t think. It hurt, it hurt so much, losing Miss Pauling, knowing that Ludwig was out there, and just beyond his reach, knowing that Engineer was missing, but with no clear line in sight, knowing that everything was… was wrong. He hadn’t realized it until this moment, but he was going to miss Miss Pauling. They had been friends, once upon a time, they had been close, so incredibly close. It had been easy to hate her, easy to be angry with her, easy to curse her name, but now… now it all finally set in, and he couldn’t stop the emotions he’d been holding back for so long from finally rushing forward.

“She can’t do this… she just can’t do this… It’s not right… Mon Dieu, qu'est-ce que je suis devenu?” Spy then held a hand to his head, and began to laugh, a shaking, broken, sorrowful laugh. He found he couldn’t stop, he just kept laughing, all while tears continued to spill down his face, wetting his mask as he tried and failed to regain some control over himself.

It wasn’t right. It made no sense. Everything was wrong.

“Hahaha, oh, oh what is wrong with me?” Spy mused once he could breathe again, finally wiping away his tears, his broken smile starting to fade as his mind started to spiral down, down, and further down. “Mon Dieu… I’ve gone mad… I’ve gone completely mad, haven’t I?”

Sniper said nothing, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly ajar, clearly wanting to say something but just not having the words. He looked pale now, all of the strength, the anger, and the determination he’d had when he’d approached Spy now gone, instead replaced with understanding, shock, dare he think it, fear.

“I… I’m going to kill her, after this is over, once I have the entire team back together, I’m going to kill her. Mundy… Mundy, I… I don’t feel well… I don’t feel right… Mundy… Mundy, what's wrong with me?”

Despite himself, despite knowing Sniper didn’t like it when he got too close, Spy found himself walking towards his friend, not knowing why, just wanting to feel something, anything. He just wanted to feel normal, he wanted these feelings to go away, he wanted to wake up. It felt like he was falling, like he was falling further and further down, to where he didn’t know, but nothing felt steady, nothing felt right, and he was trapped with Miss Pauling once again.

“Mundy, Mundy, tell me, what’s wrong with me? Why is this consuming me? What’s wrong with me?” Spy begged, grabbing onto Sniper's shirt and pulling him close, needing an anchor, needing someone to help keep him steady. “I shouldn't care this much, I shouldn't be hating her this much… If I were her, if the roles were reversed… Mon Dieu, I deserve to burn… I… MUNDY SHE CAN’T DO THIS!!! NOT AFTER EVERYTHING!!! I HAVE TO FIND HIM!!!”

This was the part of himself Spy didn’t want Medic to see, this was the part of himself that he had been holding in since he’d spoken with Miss Pauling the previous night. These hatreds, these angers, this was a part of himself that not even he liked to delve into, because it signaled that he was at his weakest. There was no control, there was no certainty, and Miss Pauling held everything in the palm of her hands. Everything was wrong, everything was terribly, terribly wrong.

Sniper continued to stare at Spy for a long, long time, standing perfectly still as he did so, simply absorbing everything, trying to understand where Spy was, and what he needed. Honestly, he looked terrified, like he would turn and run at any moment, and Spy wouldn’t have blamed him for doing so. This wasn’t right, this situation they were both in, it just wasn’t right.

“Spy… Git your hands off me.” Sniper ordered very calmly, and very gently, his stance still stiff, though his eyes were starting to soften. After a moment, Spy did as he was ordered, and took several steps back, a bit horrified at his own lack of control now that his senses were starting to return to him.

“Je... Je suis désolée, je suis tellement désolée.” Spy whispered, the high of his emotions now wearing off, leaving him exhausted and mortified. “I know, I know mate…” Sniper quickly assured, now running a hand through his hair as he looked to the sky, just taking a moment to breathe in, then out. “Fuck off… Are you fuckin’ serious right now? She knows where he is?”

“Yes… Mundy, I don’t have a choice…” Spy whispered, thoroughly embarrassed by his outburst, just wanting to go to Medic and be with him, wanting that comfort the man was always able to provide. “I have to find him… and I can’t do it without her… There… There's something else going on in this mess, something bigger than I thought. I wanted to believe I could do it alone, I wanted to believe that I didn’t need her… Mundy…”

“You ain’t need to make excuses mate,” Sniper assured quietly, “I trust you, and I trust that there’s a reason we’re workin’ for Pauling. If you truly believe that this is the only way to get Ludwig back, then I’ll follow you… However, I am gonna make one request.”
“Of course,” Spy agreed, feeling a bit better, but not great, “after everything you’ve been through, it’s only proper.”
“Oh don’t talk like that, cause you ain’t gonna like what I’m about to say… Spy, you gotta start talkin’ to the doc about this shit.”

Spy didn’t say a word, knowing Sniper was right, and absolutely hating it.

“Mate, I’m serious right now, he knows somethin’s goin’ on, he came back from tryin’ to talk to ya, and he told me he knew you were lyin’, and he’s pretty upset about it, he didn't say he was, but it’s obvious. Spy, the man deserves the truth, and he deserves better than your bullshit.”

Spy simply took a drag from his cigarette, and breathed out the smoke quietly, thinking over what the best response would be. He couldn’t lie, not outright anyway, Sniper would be able to tell instantly, but he just wasn’t ready to explain to Medic that the reality he knew wasn’t exactly real. It was just so complicated, and he didn’t want Medic worrying about Pauling, himself, or any of the other numerous ways everything had gone wrong. He especially didn’t want Medic worrying over the fact that he had quite literally sacrificed his life for him, knowing the man would feel indescribable guilt.

Alas, he was running out of excuses, and now that he knew he had time with his lover, he’d have to face him with the truth sometime or another. The truth was a frightening thing for Spy, very frightening, and though nothing had gone wrong yet, there was still a chance Medic would react poorly to whatever he decided to reveal, and he wouldn’t blame him. Then again, it was Medic, and the man didn’t seem to react poorly to anything, so maybe it was all in his head, again.

“Ok, ok… Here’s what I’ll do, the next time Medic asks me what’s going on, I’ll be honest with him… about everything.” Spy promised, not sure if he believed himself or not. Sniper clearly wasn’t certain either, but eyeing him suspiciously for a moment, before giving a reluctant sigh and saying, “Alright mate, but I’m holdin’ you to that, and remember, it’s your relationship, not mine.”
“I understand… Merci, Mundy, for… for everything. I don’t deserve you as a friend, not after everything I’ve put you through…”
“C’mon mate, it’s all good… Hell, I’d say we’re pretty even, you had to deal with my bullshit, now I gotta deal with yours.”

Spy couldn’t help but laugh for a moment, and nodded quietly to himself, just thinking about their relationship and how far it’d come in such a rather short amount of time. To say he was grateful for Sniper would be an understatement, he would’ve been lost a long time ago if it weren’t for him, and he knew it.

“Spy.”

All of Spy’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Heavy's voice, deep, and firm, which instantly caused both him and Sniper to turn and face him. Neither man had even heard him approaching, and they had no idea how long he’d been standing there, or worse, how much he’d heard. The man appeared calm, though his expression was hard, and stoic, and Spy got the feeling that he may have heard quite a bit. That worried him.

Suddenly, Spy felt a bit numb, and was aware of the fact that the blood was leaving his face, after all, this man could snap him in two if he felt like it, and right now, if he looked hard enough, Heavy looked angry. Truthfully though, Spy couldn’t blame him for it.

“Spy, what happened last night?” Heavy asked calmly, nothing about him changing, although the entire atmosphere around him definitely shifted into something far more grave, his eyes holding cold patience. Spy looked at Sniper, who was looking back at him uncertainly, neither man being sure of what to say, knowing that honesty could very well jeopardize everything.

“Spy, I know something with Pauling happened last night,” Heavy stated patiently, clearly understanding his friend's hesitations in speaking with him, “that is why you are angry. Heavy has watched your anger grow all day, and have watched you push away tiny doctor. Heavy saw Sniper go to talk to you, and thought I would do same. I hear you screaming, and for moment, I think I hear you talking about Ludwig… Spy, is something wrong?”

Spy stared into Heavy’s eyes, searching for a lie to tell, trying desperately to get him off his trail, and away from the mess he was in. Heavy couldn’t know, he’d kill Miss Pauling if he learned the truth, not that Spy was opposed to the idea, but he couldn't have her dead yet, not with so much at stake.

“There’s nothing to worry about my friend,” Spy gently lied, forcing his heart to slow itself, “I just… me and Pauling aren’t exactly on the best terms, that’s all. We have… well, let’s just say-”
“Heavy is not stupid.” Heavy stated coldly, instantly causing Spy’s heart to race again, “Heavy can look at Sniper and see that Spy is lying. I know Spy had bad dealings with Pauling, and I suspect that this has to do with it. Spy, do these dealings involve Ludwig?”

It was never a good feeling to be caught in a lie, especially when lying to a teammate, and what made it worse was the fact that this was Heavy, perhaps the most morally sound man on the team, second only to Medic. It would've been easy to simply tell Heavy not to worry about it, it would’ve been easy to tell him that it didn’t concern him, and that he’d tell him in all due time, it would’ve been easy to simply tell the man to trust him and leave it at that.

Spy truly was getting soft, for he found that he just couldn’t find it within himself to deny this man the truth. Perhaps it was because he had a lover of his own, and he knew that had he been in Heavy’s situation, he would’ve done anything to get even the slightest news about Medic.

“Heavy…” Spy found himself sighing heavily, his heart hurting for his friend, “Yes, yes my dealings with Pauling have to do with Ludwig… To put things simply, me and Pauling didn’t originally… Our relationship took a very foul turn long before this mess, so when she came to me for help last night, I told her I wouldn’t help… She then told me that she knew where Ludwig was, and… and that she would only tell me where he was if I completed this mission for her…”

Spy maintained eye contact with Heavy the entire time he spoke, wanting him to know that he was telling the truth, needing him to understand the severity of the situation. Deep down, he feared his love for Ludwig would blind him, he feared that this man would let his deepest emotions swarm throughout him, consuming him wholly.

Instead, Heavy merely nodded quietly, taking in a deep breath, then letting out a shaky sigh, relief washing over his entire being as his whole stance relaxed. “Doctor… doctor is alive?” Heavy asked, and Spy knew that there was nothing to worry about. “Yes, he is,” Spy confirmed with a bittersweet voice, “but I don’t know where he is, and… and I don’t know how he is. All I know is that he’s alive, I swear it.”

“Heavy believes, Heavy believes… Fritz is alive, that is good… that is very good… Pauling won’t say where he is though…”
“Heavy, I swear to you, if I could make her talk, I would… I don’t have a choice, this is the only way to find out where he is… I’m sorry.”
“... Is not Spy’s fault… Heavy understands… Thank you, thank you for telling me truth.”

Spy merely nodded, watching as the relief in Heavy slowly turned to sorrow, understanding that this must be a lot for Heavy, after all, men like Ludwig didn’t simply disappear without reason, and now that Miss Pauling was involved… It sickened Spy, it sickened him to his core.

“Heavy would like to be alone, why doesn’t Spy go be with tiny doctor, it will do him good. Lots of good.” Heavy suggested with a sad smile, and Spy found he could only nod and return that smile. He hated this, he hated that this was beyond his control, he hated that Miss Pauling held their entire world in her hands, and he hated that he couldn't force her to talk. It was his job to keep them safe, and he was failing them.

As Spy began to walk back to the van, with Sniper following close behind him, he paused, and once again found himself looking into Heavy’s eyes, and though Heavy wasn’t looking at him, Spy could see the tears beginning to form within them. “I… I’m sorry, I'm so sorry, Mikhail.” Spy said quietly, before he continued to walk away, and back to the arms of his own lover.

Once he was well and truly alone, Heavy allowed some of his tears to fall, before closing his eyes and allowing all of his emotions to course through him. Then, just when he felt he would scream, Heavy turned and punched the nearest tree with all the strength within him, causing the bark to crack and splinter into nothing.

He stayed still for a moment, allowing more tears to fall, before he began to weep, just missing his love, relieved in knowing that he was alive, but hating that he was still so far from his reach, still so far from his embrace. The pain was getting deeper with every passing day, and Heavy found that it was starting to consume him more than he would’ve liked. Patience was one thing, but this… this was torture.

God damn it, where was he? Where the hell was Fritz Ludwig?

Chapter Text

“I recognize these trees! I swear to you, I recognize them! Engineer, Engineer we’re almost home! We’re almost home!!! Hahahaaaa!!!! I’m almost home!!!”

Five and a half days.

Engineer, Ludwig, and Lawrence had been walking for five and a half days.

They were cold, they were tired, they were hurting, and above all else, they were frustrated, but damn it all, they were almost there.

In all honesty, the three men would have arrived at the Red base much sooner, however the injuries Lawrence had received from Miss Pauling had made walking a slow and painful process, and more breaks were taken than any one of them would’ve liked in order to accommodate for it. That, and they’d gotten terribly lost about three days into their trek, having somehow gone in a complete circle, though how this had happened was beyond them.

Thankfully, it didn’t matter anymore, it didn’t matter that they’d been slow, it didn’t matter that they’d been lost, and it didn’t matter that they were all ready to kill each other, because their journey was almost finished. They were almost home. What happened after that was beyond them, but that didn’t matter, not right now, not when the future was guaranteed to hold soft beds, warm showers, and above all else, good food.

My God, each and every one of them would’ve killed for a warm shower, or hell, just any sense of civilization.

However, to say Engineer wasn’t worried would be a lie. The last time he’d seen his team they’d been fighting for their lives, and he hadn’t seen how that battle ended. Sure, last he knew they were winning, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t walked away without a loss that he wasn’t aware of, or that this Gray fellow hadn’t done something to compromise his team. He liked to imagine that all the old mercs were dead, he liked to imagine that everyone was alive and unharmed, but he just didn’t know, and that worried him a great deal.

Still, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited, and that the idea of seeing his team again didn’t lighten his heart, Pyro especially. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the stress he'd had gone through with him being gone, he remembered very well how hard it had been for poor Pyro when Ludwig had gone missing. Somehow, Pyro had figured that it was his fault for the man's disappearance, that somehow he’d done something to make him go away, and evidently, he’d had the same line of thought when Medic had been captured by the old mercs.

God, Engineer hoped he didn’t blame himself for his disappearance.

At least he still had Scout to talk with, at least there was someone other than him at the Red base who understood him personally, and who was able to help him to understand the grander schemes of the world around him. Besides, even if somehow Scout wasn’t there anymore, the rest of the team was more than capable of caring for the strange man, and he had no doubt that he was well taken care of.

He was lucky to have such a team, he was truly blessed to have men who really cared for one another, and who saw each other in a light other than simple business. Once upon a time that’s all they’d been to each other, coworkers, nothing more, nothing less, but now… Engineer couldn’t even remember when they’d become a family, they just had. All the fun, the love, the ridiculousness, the stupidity, everything that defined the Red team had come to mean the world to him, and he wouldn’t change them for anything.

Lord, he just wanted to see them all again…

Well, almost all of them.

Despite having had days to mull it over, despite now knowing that his Pa had planned on killing him, despite everything that he now knew about the true nature of the war, Engineer still wanted to shove his gun down Spy’s throat, and fire.

To say he was still furious with Spy would be an understatement, he hated the man, he hated him with a passion, and words simply failed to describe the pure, raw emotions running through him. That man, that careless, coldhearted, calculating snake, had caused this mess, and was damn well the reason his Pa was dead. Yes, the rest of the old mercs needed to die, and what his Pa had done was unforgivable, what he’d allowed to happen to Medic was downright deplorable, but… but he was still his Pa, and he wasn’t evil… He just wasn’t…

Honestly, Engineer still wasn’t sure about what to think about his Pa, it just hurt too much to really think about who he was, what he’d done, and worst of all, what he hadn’t done. Past memories mixed with present actions, and it just got too confusing, too painful, it became impossible to distinguish truth from boyhood myth. Therefore, he stuck with the one truth he had, which was that Spy had coerced him into killing his father, whether he’d meant to or not.

Spy had promised him his Pa wouldn’t die, promised him that no harm would come to him, but now… Yes, yes Engineer had been the one to pull the trigger, he’d been the one to kill him, but it had been Spy’s plan that put them in a position of conflict, it had been Spy’s plan that put his father in…

There it was again, that pain in his heart, that terrible, overwhelming pain that seemed to wrack his entire chest every time he thought about why he’d had to pull the trigger on his Pa. Medic had been shot, his Pa was going to kill him, even after the man had offered peace, there hadn’t been a choice. That wasn’t Medic’s fault, he’d done his best, he couldn’t fault the man for just trying to live, to try and make amends with his Pa, Medic had done the right thing and Engineer respected him for it.

So then why had his Pa tried to kill Medic? Why had he done that? The Boss, it had to be him, it had to be his influence over his Pa, and the rest of the old mercs. His Pa hadn’t been in his right mind, war did that to men, he had just been trying to protect his own team, his own family… but that’s not what had happened.

Medic hadn’t been fighting, he’d been recovering, his Pa had snuck up on him, he’d tried to kill him while he wasn’t looking. There had to be a reason for it, there had to be a reason his Pa had fallen so far, there had to be a reason he was no longer the man of reason he’d always known him to be, something just wasn’t adding up. His Pa’s life could not be reduced down to, ‘he had it coming’… Right?

“Everything all right, Mr. Conagher?” Engineer hadn’t even noticed that his breathing had gotten heavier, it just had. After taking a moment to get out of his head, he looked over at Lawrence, who was looking at him with mild concern, just barely able to match Engineer's pace as they walked. Truth be told, Engineer had intentionally slowed himself down so as to not leave the man behind, after all, it wasn’t his fault that he was hurting.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just… just lettin’ my mind wander, that’s all.” Engineer assured with a small smile, quickly turning his attention to Ludwig and his bevy of doves, all of whom were much farther ahead, eager to be done with this trip and to just be home again. “Heh, tell you what, I can’t wait to see that look on my team’s face when we pull up, Lord they’re gonna be in for a shock.”
“I believe it,” Lawrence said with a slight chuckle, “men don’t often simply reappear after bein’ gone for months, that just doesn't happen.”

Engineer simply nodded in response, his heart lightening as he too began to recognize some of the surrounding woods. Ludwig was right, they were almost home, thank God, they were almost home.

“Would you two hurry up already! Mein Gott, Archimedes walks faster than you!” Ludwig urged with great annoyance, to which Archimedes was quick to fly to the ground, and begin walking forward as fast as his little legs could carry him, clearly trying to prove a point. “Goin’ as fast as we can doc,” Engineer assured, understanding his good friend's eagerness, “ain’t no use in gettin’ Mr. Lawrence hurt in the final stretch.”
“Ach, you’re ridiculous!” Ludwig scoffed as he picked up Archimedes, helping him get airborne as he joined the rest of the bevy flying above them.

“I wouldn’t worry about him too much,” Engineer tried to assure Lawrence, “he just knows how to hold a grudge, he’ll come around with time.”
“No, he won’t,” Lawrence stated with just the faintest hint of disgust, “and that’s ok, I don’t need him to like me. Hell, if he did like me, I’d be concerned for my own character.”

Engineer just rolled his eyes and sighed, greatly looking forward to the moment he could get away from his companions. Separately, they were fine, he didn’t mind either man’s company, and truth be told he enjoyed talking with both of them, each man providing great conversation and insightful views to the world around them, different though they were. However, together the two men created an atmosphere filled with awkwardness, disdain, hatred, and downright unpleasantness. Oil and water, that’s what they were, just complete opposites that wished the other gone and out of mind.

Keeping the peace between the two had proven nearly impossible, yet so far no one had tried to kill each other outright, at least as far as Engineer was concerned. He suspected Ludwig might’ve made an attempt or two on their journey home, but he didn’t have any proof, just a sneaking suspicion. Honestly though, he couldn’t blame the man for his hatreds, hell if he’d been in his position he’d probably feel the same way about Lawrence.

Still, they were all grown men, and they were all capable of being respectful towards one another, or at the very least courteous, even Ludwig. Well, maybe not Ludwig, the man was certifiably insane, after all, how many men took pleasure from putting a human mind in a jack-o'lantern, or removing a man's entire skeleton while keeping him alive, or simply pushing the human body to its absolute breaking point in the name of discovery? No, Engineer simply couldn’t blame Ludwig for his, as Spy would put it, idiocracies, the man was who he was, and that was all there was to it.

In all honesty, that’s why Engineer liked him so much, they understood each other in a way not many other people did, and that was comforting. Whether Engineer liked to admit it or not, he was insane as well, he was just better at hiding it, or more accurately, controlling his more… questionable tendencies. All the same, having a likeminded friend was a great thing to have, he just wished he would actually control himself when the situation called for it, instead of letting his cards show without a care in the world.

Then again, that was what defined the good doctor, and Engineer could appreciate that.

“I SEE THE WALL!!!! I SEE THE WALL!!!! ONE MILE LEFT!!! MISHA!!! MISHA, I’M COMING!!! I’M COMING HOME!!!” Ludwig suddenly shrieked, pure, unbridled joy, relief, and excitement flowing through his voice as he suddenly began to sprint, his doves flying faster with him, also cooing their delights as they flew. Sure enough, the first signs of the Red base had finally come into view, promising an end to this ordeal, promising the comfort of familiar surroundings, promising reunion with their family.

Despite himself, despite wanting to be professional, as well as a good companion to Lawrence, Engineer found his pace increasing as well, until he too was running as fast as his legs could carry him. He just couldn't help it, the heart overpowered the mind and his emotions carried all his decisions.

Home, he was coming home, and nothing could stop him.

Well, expect the security wall.

“How do we get over this!?! I need a tree to climb, I can make that jump!” Ludwig desperately shouted, searching for a way in like his life depended on it. “Hold on, just hold on a minute!” Engineer quickly ordered, trying to find the best way in through the fence. Logically, they could simply walk along it until they found the entrance, but that wasn’t something either man had time for, nor was that something they wanted to do, not when they were this close.

“Ah, to hell with this!” Engineer finally shouted, and while using the gunslinger, he began to punch a hole into the wall, quickly making one that was just big enough for them to get through. Once that was done, Ludwig quickly shoved Engineer out of the way and ran through it, stumbling forward and nearly falling as he went. “I’M COMING!!! MISHA, I’M COMING!!!” Ludwig shouted once again, before laughing with pure delight as he continued his mad dash forward.

Engineer also began to laugh, he just couldn’t help himself, he laughed heartily with joy, before crying out to the heavens that he was coming home, and that nothing could stop him. Together, the two men simply whooped and hollered until their throats began to hurt from the cold air, until it seemed as though there would never be enough air in their lungs, but that didn’t stop them from hollering anyway.

Home, they were finally home.

Ludwig had quite the lead on Engineer, and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t catch up, but that was ok, it didn’t matter, it just mattered that he was almost there, that this was all about to be over. Everything seemed loud, but in a good way, in the best way possible. The wind rushing by him, the sound of his steps crunching in the snow, the cooing of the doves overhead, it was as if the world itself was cheering him on, promising him that this would be over soon.

Just a bit further now, just a little bit further!

Suddenly, just when Ludwig finally did lay eyes on the base, the man very quickly stopped, stared for a moment, then slammed himself behind the nearest tree, a look of pure shock, fear, confusion, and anger now plastering his face, which caused Engineer to stop just as quickly.

“Why the hell is the army at the base!?!?!?!” Ludwig seethed out in a loud whisper, practically shouting as his eyes went wide and his body rigid. “What?” Engineer shouted in confusion, instantly causing Ludwig to hush him, panic growing in his eyes as his doves settled beside him, or on him, whichever was most convenient for each bird. “Why is the army at the base!” Ludwig seethed out again, a bit angrier this time, a bit more frightened too.

“...What!” Engineer exclaimed in a loud whisper, now running the rest of the way forward, before he quickly and carefully looked out at his base. The good doctor was right, the American army was currently stationed outside of his base, looking like they meant business, and not the good kind.

“What-what-what-what the- wh-what the- fuckin’- cock suckin’- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” Engineer spat out as quietly as he could manage, his own panicked confusion starting to show as the realization that he wasn’t out of the woods yet came crashing down around him. Something was wrong, something was terribly, terribly wrong.

“How the hell should I know!” Ludwig shouted just as quietly, if that was even possible, “You were here last, you know more than I do about the current dealings of the base than I do! What happened!”
“This has nothin’ to do with what we were doin’! This is beyond me!” Engineer spat back, the loudness of the world no longer seeming like a good thing, even though it was now very, very quiet.

Both men then got quiet for a moment, each letting the situation really sink in before looking out onto the scene again. There were currently three jeeps, two trucks, a tank, and enough soldiers to scare the crap out of Engineer, though they didn’t look like they were actively fighting, rather it looked like they were at their own base, simply existing as if nothing were wrong with the world.

That sent a nasty little chill down Engineers spine.

“What do you think happened to the others?” Ludwig asked in a panicked whisper, his eyes darting over every person and vehicle, a frenzied look within them that Engineer didn’t like. “Surely they got away, right? Mi-Heavy, yes, Heavy would get away, he’d get the others away too, he’s strong like that, it would take more than an army to take him down! Yes, yes they’re all ok, they have to be… Engineer, Engineer do you think they all got away?”
“I dunno, I don’t see no sign of prisoners… Why the fuck are they here!”
“Here’s a better question, who pissed them off to bring them here!”

That was a very good question, one that explained why they were there, for the most part, but then again no one in the Red team had any reason to be mucking about with the army, at least that Engineer was aware of, they’d been far too busy dealing with the old mercs. Spy maybe? No, no, that just didn’t make any sense… Maybe Soldier? No, no that didn’t add up either… Pauling? That made some sense, especially if she was who Lawrence claimed she was, but why would she send the army after them?

Maybe it was that Gray fellow Lawrence had told them about, he seemed the type of guy to get involved in their business, especially now that the Administrator was dead, and if he was as smart as Lawrence claimed he was, then there was no way he wouldn’t be expecting Miss Pauling to retaliate. That made sense, maybe once Lawrence looked at the situation, he’d be able to…

“Oh lord… We left Lawrence in the dust…” Engineer realized with an irked sigh, mostly disappointed in himself. “Oh, for the love of… Who cares! Let the man freeze, if anything it’ll be better for him, you know, quality of life thing.” Ludwig claimed with a cruel smirk, and deep down Engineer couldn’t help but smirk to himself as well. “Don’t say shit like that,” Engineer scolded, just to try and be the better person, “he’s a human too ya know! I respect the fact that you don’t like ‘im, but the least you could do is treat ‘im with some respect.”
“What? I’m just being honest, I mean really, the poor man’s suffering terribly, he can barely even walk! Ach, I’m telling you my friend, it’s not right to let him suffer.”

“He’s not suffering doc, he’s just hurtin’, there’s a difference.”
“Is there? I mean let’s just think about it for a moment, the man’s been by himself for at least two decades, that we’re aware of, he has no concept as to what’s going on in the real world, I mean hell it’s entirely possible that he doesn’t even know why he’s been doing all of this. I think he forgot a while ago, and is just too embarrassed to admit it.”
“Doc, you know that ain’t true.”
“Have you ever heard him talk about why it’s so important to stop this Gray fellow, aside from the whole, ‘oh, he’s going to take over the world!’ schfeel? I haven’t, hell, the man hasn’t hardly said a word to us since we started walking… Well actually, I did hear him say something rather ominous when he thought we were asleep the other night.”

Engineer looked at him with a bit of concern, not liking the way the good doctor's voice dropped into something more somber, his expression showing that he was quite serious about what had happened. Ludwig then did a quick look about to make sure they were well and truly alone, before leaning towards Engineer and somberly whispering, “Just when I was about to fall asleep, I heard the man say in a rather nasty voice… ‘I’ll get you my pretty, and your little doves too!’

“You shut up! You shut up right now!” Engineer whispered with barely contained laughter, hating that Ludwig knew how to make him laugh over such dark humor. “Why? I’m being serious, aren't I?” Ludwig asked with a sadistic smile, “He’s old, he’s suffering, and clearly he’s not all mentally there. I mean really, if he were a dog we'd have no problem putting him out of his misery, but no, because he’s an old man we must let him suffer… I’m telling you my friend, euthanasia is the best way to go with him.”

“I’d better not be hearin’ what I think I’m hearin’, otherwise I’m gonna kick your ass all the way back to Germany!” Instantly both Engineer and Ludwig hid their smirks and looked towards Lawrence, who had finally caught up with them, looking like he was hurting as he held his wounds. “Now what the hell’s goin’ on? I thought I’d find you two down at your base, not sittin’ here snickerin’ like a bucha school girls.”

“Ach, yes, about that,” Ludwig muttered, his previous emotions now returning to him as he glanced down at the base, “it appears as though have some… uninvited guests. Before you ask, no, we don’t know why they’re there, they just are… Although, I have money on this being Spy’s fault if you're up for a bet.”

“I’d rather not.” Lawrence stated with a hint of disdain, before carefully moving up to see what they were talking about. Upon seeing the army, he quickly got down on his stomach to get out of view, and grabbed a pair of binoculars from his pack and began to watch them, carefully searching through their encampment. It was then that Engineer gave Ludwig the sort of look that explained to him why they kept the older man around, which was quickly met with an exaggerated eye roll from the good doctor, and for good reason.

While the man’s expertise in a variety of skills, knowledge, weapons, and other survival tactics certainly kept him from being deadweight to their group, that wasn’t the true reason they kept him around, and both Engineer and Ludwig knew it. Truthfully, he just knew more than they did about the true nature of the war, who all its players were, and how exactly Gray was going to achieve his quest, and he’d refused to tell them anything.

They’d tried, they’d tried very hard to get the man to explain to them who Gray was, why Saxton Hale was so important, and how exactly Gray had planned on taking over the world, but he hadn’t said a word, even under threat of torture from Ludwig. The man knew something, something about the true nature of what Gray really wanted, about why the Administrator had been so secretive, about why it was so desperately important that Gray was stopped, and both men knew it.

Alas, Engineer had determined that trying to force his hand would get them nowhere, for it was abundantly clear that this was his only purpose in life, therefore patience would have to work its magic. Sooner or later, Lawrence would have to reveal to them what was actually going on with Gray, until then, there was nothing to be done but wait, and hope that he talked before things got too serious.

“Well… looks like they took some kinda beatin’,” Lawrence muttered to himself while the two men waited eagerly, “so I’d say your friends are ok… No sign of them having taken prisoners either, that’s good… Hell, I’d say your friends made it outta there in one piece, but don’t quote me on that.”
“Alright, that’s good,” Engineer declared with relief, “but now what? We don’t know if they’re all alive, we don’t know where they are, and we have no idea as to what’s actually happening right now.”

“Two things, Mr. Conagher,” Lawrence explained patiently, still watching the base closely, “one, if any of your friends were dead or captured, there would be a lot more fuss goin’ on down there right now, but there just ain’t. Two, they’re packin’ up as we speak, they’ve finished their business here, now all we gotta do is wait for them to leave, and we’ll have the base all to ourselves.”

“You don’t think they’re going to leave a guard or two?” Ludwig asked with mild suspicion, stroking Archimedes' head as he said this. “It’s not likely,” Lawrence assured, “if your friends got out, they’ll be too busy trying to hunt ‘em down, and depending on when this happened, they would have already gotten everything they wanted from the base, ransacked it if you will. Besides, we can handle a few guards if they left any, that ain’t my worry.”

“Then what is?” Engineer queried, watching as the army continued to go about their business, which appeared to be organizing and packing their equipment. “My worry is that we don't know who sent ‘em, and I highly doubt any of your friends brought this down upon themselves. No, if I were a bettin’ man I’d this has Gray written all over it, the corporate bastard.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Engineer sighed, now rubbing the back of his neck at the thought of having to go find his team, hoping, praying that they’d all made it out alive.

The three men and the doves waited rather impatiently for about two hours, simply sitting quietly as they did this, resting their weary limbs and eating whatever food they still had with them. It appeared as though Lawrence was right, for with every passing minute the army was that much closer to being ready to leave, something that they were all more than ready for. They were tired of being cold, they were tired of being uncomfortable, and they were tired of external forces dictating their lives.

Eventually though, their tired patience paid off, and the last of the army finally left the Red base, leaving the building seemingly empty. To make sure this was actually the case, Ludwig sent Archimedes ahead to scout out the building, and after waiting another fifteen minutes, the little bird returned and reported that the base was indeed abandoned. In case anyone is wondering how Archimedes did this, that is unfortunately a secret that will die with Ludwig.

The men entered the base through the giant hole that had once been the entrance to the building, a hole that was put there by the tank no doubt, and a hole that was creating a rather nasty draft into the base. Still, just standing within the building was enough to bring Engineer some small bit of comfort, just enjoying the fact that he was in a familiar environment, one that promised he was safe for the time being.

As for Ludwig, Engineer swore the man would start to weep at any moment, for he’d become oddly quiet as they walked through the base, only his eyes truly giving away the strong, bittersweet emotions he was harboring within his heart. Truly, he looked exhausted, finally appearing to be what he actually was, a man who’d been lost for far too long, one who hadn't had a good night's sleep in months. For the first time, Engineer saw just how dark the good doctor's eye bags were, how much smaller his frame seemed to be, how much longing and sorrow truly existed within his piercing eyes.

It had been impossible to notice such things before, after all, the man held himself like he was some kind of deity, but now…

Well, who could blame the man for finally collapsing into his broken heart?

“Damn… Damn it all, this just ain’t right.” Engineer finally said after wandering throughout the base for a bit, having found everyone's rooms had been thoroughly searched through, all the usual odds and ends of their occupiers now upended with no care whatsoever. “I mean really, the hell were they expectin’ to find? Ain’t got no common courtesy, I’ll say that much.”

“They were looking for connections, Mr. Conagher,” Lawrence explained with sympathy, “looking for future hiding spots, family ties, something that could clue them in to where your team might be next. It’s nothin’ personal, it’s just standard procedure for them. Still, it is a shame.”

“Heh… Standard procedure, like we aren’t even humans too.” Ludwig scoffed with a false smirk, some of his insanity finally returning to him. “I ain’t defendin’ ‘em, I’m explainin’ ‘em.” Lawrence clarified calmly, also looking about the base, simply taking in his new environment. “Either way,” Ludwig mused as he pet one of his doves heads, “I hate they’ve gone through it all, it’s not right. It’s so… violating.”
“Well ain’t that the pot calling the kettle black.” Lawrence declared, which elicited a crazed laugh from Ludwig, causing his dove to fly away. “Guilty is charged! However, there is a fine difference between one's body, and one’s… Mein Gott! What happened to the garage!”

They’d just turned the corner that led to the garage's entrance, and once again the doors appeared to have been blown open, though this time by much more controlled means. Once the realization that his workspace had been thoroughly invaded set in, Engineer sprinted to the room in a panicked state, and found himself shocked by how completely empty it was, and that the garage doors were open.

Of the three vehicles that normally resided within it, only his truck remained, sitting quietly in the corner, untouched and uncared for. That gave him hope, hope that somehow, against all odds, his team had managed to escape with Snipers van and the company van, though how they did this was beyond him.

Other than that, the rest of the garage looked like it too had been searched thoroughly, as well robbed of many of his personal machines and projects. That pissed him off, but at least his team appeared to be safe, and that was the important thing, he could rebuild his inventions, so long as the blueprints were still intact, and not stolen as well.

“Oh Engineer, what have they done!” Ludwig exclaimed as he walked in, just about as mortified as his friend. “Have they no dignity at all! What the hell are they even going to do with Snipers van? Sell it? Mein Gott, they’re probably going to use it for sex den.”
“I don’t even wanna know why your mind went there.” Lawrence remarked as he walked in, looking about the space with intrigue.

“Now hold on, just hold on a minute,” Engineer quickly stated, now making his way to the doors to the outside world, “I don’t think the army stole Snipe’s van, I think Snipe got out with it. Look, my truck’s still here, why would they take two out of the three vehicles here? They wouldn’t, so if I were a bettin’ man, I’d say… Oh lord, what the hell did they do?”

Upon reaching the exit, the blown up remains of the company van met Engineer’s ever confused gaze, bits and pieces of the van scattered all over the place. That, and he clearly saw the remains of the mega flamethrower mixed in with the van, though why the two were ever connected was a mystery he wasn’t going to focus on at the moment.

“Huh… Do you think your entire team could fit into your Sniper’s van?” Lawrence asked once he too was looking out onto the wreckage. “I… I think so,” Engineer answered, trying to imagine how that would work, “though how long they could do it is an entirely different matter. Well, they could do it, it’s Snipe I’m worried about, lord knows he’d kill ‘em if they so much as touched his van the wrong way.”
“Hmm… Well, at least they’re alive… any idea as to where they went?”
“Not a clue.”

The two men then sat quietly for a moment, just trying to figure out what to do next. Truth be told, they weren’t really thinking about anything, they were both just sitting and waiting for the other to initiate the next step, each too tired to continue thinking about the unknown. This resulted in a surprisingly comfortable five minutes of silence, all while the stress of their journey now slowly started to leave their bodies and minds.

The situation was bad, but it could’ve been worse, and they knew it, so they simply took the time to appreciate the fact that they were alive, healthy, for the most part, and safe. The unknown could wait for a little while longer, but this, this quiet, this peace, it was fleeting, and they knew it.

“Engineer! Engineer, I found a note from Pyro!” Ludwig suddenly exclaimed, instantly snapping Engineer from his exhausted daze as his full attention was turned towards the good doctor and his doves. In an instant he was by Ludwigs side, and once he was there, he was surprised to find that hidden in a corner of the base was a cart filled with both his, and Pyro's belongings, though Pyro’s definitely outweighed his own.

It didn’t take long for Engineer to realize what he was looking at, his heart shattering at the care given to every item within the cart, and just how intricately it was all balanced. Pyro had wanted to take all of this, he’d tried to, but alas, someone had come and talked sense into him, someone had forced him to leave behind his entire life. It hurt, it hurt so badly knowing that Pyro had been forced to leave everything, and that he hadn’t been there to help him.

That wasn’t right, Pyro didn’t deserve that, he didn’t deserve all of this uncertainty and fear, not him. Yes, yes he too was a killer, a mercenary by trade, but he was different then other mercs, he was kinder, more compassionate, much more akin to Medic in his levels of malevolence than he was to Engineer ever was. Although he didn’t know what led Pyro on the path to being a mercenary, he didn’t care to know, not anymore, he just cared about keeping the strange man safe, and well informed of the world around him.

Engineer hoped that Pyro knew what was going on, he hoped that he understood that he hadn’t left him… Lord, he really did hope that Pyro knew he cared enough not to leave him.

“I didn’t open it yet, I figured you’d want to.” Ludwig explained quietly, now handing Engineer the folded note, which was written on drawing paper in red colored pencil, the name Pyro sighed on the front of it in big letters. Engineer let out a heavy sigh as he took it, an ache in his chest starting to form with the realization that this could be the closest he got to Pyro for a long, long time.

The note contained the following message from Pyro:

Dear Engineer, I don’t know why, but the army is here, and we are being forced to evacuate. I tried to bring all your stuff so that you’d have it when you got back, but Medic helped remind me that I can’t run with all of it, which I understand. However, I have taken a few things of yours, like your teleporter, wrangler, and wrench, that way no one hurts them! The rest of your stuff is here, just in case you manage to make it back without our help. I promise I have taken extra good care of your guitar, I even tuned it for you! I miss you very, very, very, very, very much, and we have all been looking for you and the original Medic, I promise. Anyway, I have to go now, I love you very much, and I hope this letter finds you well.

Love, Pyro.

Beneath this, there was more writing, though it clearly didn’t belong to Pyro.

It read as follows:

Engineer, this is Medic, I just want to let you know that at this time we are all safe, and we don’t know for certain what’s going on. The war is over, the Mann brothers are dead, and we’ve heard nothing from Miss Pauling, nor the Administrator. I’m sorry we haven't found you yet, and I’m sorry that you’ll have to return to an empty base, but this is beyond us. I don’t know where we’re going, I don’t know how we’re going to get out of this mess, and even if we do, I don’t know what we’ll do next. I’m sorry I can’t do better, please know that we have never given up, and will continue to search for you and Dr. Ludwig.

Sincerely, Medic.

Below this, in Medics handwriting, now written hastily in green colored pencil, was the following:

We are now taking Sniper's van. I don’t like this, but there is no choice. We will try to get the team from the secret tunnel, if all goes to hell, I’ll see you in the afterlife.

Engineer took a deep breath in, then out, allowing his heart to hurt, for his eyes to sting with tears, and for relief to wash over his frightened soul. They were alive, they were all alive. Pyro… Pyro was too innocent for this, yes he was strong, he was a mercenary, but this was different, this was personal.

Everything was wrong, this wasn’t supposed to be what happened today, it just wasn’t. There was supposed to be celebration, there was supposed to be joy, there was supposed to be reunion, not this, never this. It hurt, it hurt Engineer's soul so badly to know that he had been so close to finding them, knowing that if they’d gone a bit faster, if they hadn’t gotten lost, hell, if they hadn’t waited so long to start their journey, that they could all be together, wherever they were.

Such a cruel world they lived in, such a cruel world indeed.

“Alright… Alright, they’re alive, for now… and I was right, they took Snipe’s van.” Engineer stated once the lump in his throat finally left, leaving him feeling overwhelmed, but not undone. “Did they say where they were going?” Ludwig asked desperately, “Did they give any hint as to what they were doing at all?”
“Unfortunately not, seems like taking Snipe’s van was a last minute decision… If I were a bettin’ man, I’d say Snipe panicked and ran back to save it… Lord, I bet they all mighty pissed at that.”
“Heh, I’d say so… Oh well, at least they made it out.”

Engineer simply nodded in agreement, and looked over the cart which contained all of Pyro's things once more, simply impressed by his friend's ability to stack everything so carefully and securely. While the pain of having his team gone still stung badly, it eased his heart to know that they were alive, and that they had a means of staying ahead of their pursuers other than simply running.

However, the challenge of finding them loomed heavily, but Engineer had never been one to back down from a challenge, especially when the stakes were so high. This wasn’t impossible, just very, very difficult, with more unknown than known. Then again, when was anything easy with this line of work, and when was anything ever truly known? Truly, he should have known that simply coming home would be too much to ask.

“Mein Gott, they were in my lab!!!” Ludwig suddenly shrieked in horror, before he sprinted out of the garage as fast as humanly possible, his doves chasing after him frantically. To be fair, there were a great many things within the med bay that the US government should not be touching, so Ludwig was completely justified in his panicked reaction. “Oh… Oh that ain’t good.” Engineer declared with similar horror, before he too began to run after Ludwig, before stopping himself and turning back to Lawrence, who had simply been watching the two men quietly.

“Well don’t wait after me, take care of your business.” Lawrence stated assuringly, to which Engineer gave a quick nod before rushing after Ludwig again, hoping that his team had enough sense to try and hide the medical files within the med bay.

Upon reaching, he was unsurprised to find that it too had been thoroughly searched, though this time with much more care. Upon confirming that their medical files were gone, Engineer guessed that either they had been taken, or Spy had been smart enough to destroy them, other than that it was hard to tell what exactly had been taken. Thankfully, the good doctor was keen to note how everything was out of place.

“What the- Why did they- This doesn’t make any sense!” Ludwig cried out in frustration while frantically searching through all his medical books and equipment. “All my research is gone! My experiments, my progress, everything! Ach, those schweinhunds! I mean I understand why they did that, they're the government after all, but why on earth would they go out of their way to rearrange everything in here?!? It’s not like they were using it, so why would they put my equipment over on that desk when I clearly had it arranged for that table, and why are all my books completely… Ah. I know what happened.” That last sentence was stated in a very blunt, very sarcastic tone, and instinctively Engineer began to rub the back of his neck.

“You let my REPLACEMENT reorganize my lab! Honestly, you didn’t even have the courtesy to leave things the way I liked them! Did you not think I would come back!!!” To say Ludwig had taken the news of the Blu Medic joining the team in his absence badly would be an understatement. The man had been downright furious, feeling as though the team had tried to replace him, that they deemed him forgettable, unneeded, that somehow they deemed the Blu Medic better than him, and that they didn’t respect him and all that he had done for the team.

Engineer didn’t quite think he meant everything that he’d said, though he understood that finding out that your place had been temporarily filled by your enemy was most definitely a hard pill to swallow. That, and the good doctor knew full well how to hold a grudge, and to make sure that you knew he was holding it. He also had the uncanny ability to make one feel very, very guilty over things that didn’t need to be felt guilty over, like the Blu Medic being on the team for example.

“Oh for the love of- Doc, for the last time, we did not replace you!” Engineer cried out, to which Ludwig just scoffed and continued the searching of his lab for anything useful. “I’m serious! A-and we most certainly didn’t let him rearrange your lab! That… that was an accident really, you see he’d tried to give Pyro his shots, and Pyro went and turned into a full blown bronc and tore the place up. We tried to put it back the way it was… but no one could really remember how it was. I am sorry about that, but none of us did anything to intentionally spite you!”

“I’m certain.” Ludwig replied curtly, before finally giving a frustrated sigh as he gave one last look around the med bay. “Those idiots… Ach, I don’t even have the words! Everything is gone! ACH!!!”
“Doc, doc I know it’s been a day,” Engineer assured calmly, “but you need to calm down, frettin’ over all this ain’t gonna get us nowhere, so let’s just… let's just breathe for a moment.”
“Easy for you to say! Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this day, any idea as to how hard I’ve fought to get back here, only for… FOR THIS!!! Gott, I’m going to kill someone, and his name is Alastor Lawrence! You hear me Engineer! I’m going to kill him!”

“DOC!” Engineer shouted, trying to get ahead of the absolute breakdown that was threatening to overtake the good doctor. He couldn’t blame him, he couldn’t blame him for his anger, his sorrow, his hate, that wouldn’t be fair to him, he had every right to want to kill Lawrence, but that didn’t mean acting on it would be a smart thing to do. There would be a better time for such an action, not that Engineer wanted that, but if it truly did come down to it, Engineer would not be completely opposed to the man's death, just not right now.

“Doc, I know you’re hurtin’, and I know you’re hurtin’ somethin’ fierce, but you have got to pull yourself together, this ain’t anyone's fault! You wanna be mad at someone, you really wanna kill so bad, you direct that energy at Gray, he’s the bastard that started all this! He’s the one who originally took you, he’s one who drove the team out, and he’s the one who’s huntin’ ‘em now! We will deal with Lawrene later, but not right now! Not when he knows more than we do, not when he’s our only real lead to stopping Gray! Just… just hold on a little longer, you can do that, I know you can.”

Ludwig said nothing, he just couldn’t, too emotional to find any coherent words. Slowly though, Engineer watched as that dangerous spark in his eyes began to quiet down, but it didn’t leave, it never really did. Instead, the good doctor let a broken sigh escape him as he slowly ran a hand down his face, his body relaxing as his heart continued to shatter within him, drowning his soul even further into darkness.

“Engineer…” Ludwig seethed quietly through his hand, “Mark my words, that man will be dead within a month.”
“I… Oh, God damn it… Just wait till we don’t need ‘im anymore, ok?”
“I promise nothing… but I will make a valiant effort.”
“Whatever you say doc, whatever you say.”
“... Speaking of the schweinhund, where is he?”

Engineer thought about that for a moment, then answered with, “I think he’s still in the garage, but if I had to guess he’s probably making his way here now.”
“YOU LEFT HIM ALONE!!! IN OUR BASE!!!” Ludwig shrieked with furious horror, instantly dropping his hand from his face. “Uh… yeah? Ain’t like he’s gonna go anywhere, ‘sides, I thought you didn’t want him around you.”
“Yes, but that was while we were outside, when there was a chance he’d get lost and freeze! Not when he’s in our base doing Gott knows what!”

***

In all honesty, Lawrence had anticipated getting lost while trying to find the med bay, he just hadn’t expected to wander into the cafeteria and find a tunnel hidden behind the fridge that led to God only knew where. However, with everything he’d seen from Engineer and Ludwig, he probably should have expected to see this.

Over the last five and a half days, he’d slowly been starting to understand who exactly the Red Team was based on what Engineer and Ludwig had said about them, and he wasn’t surprised to find that all nine men were completely insane. Then again, he most definitely was too, so maybe he should cut them all some slack, after all this God forsaken war destroyed anyone who fought in it, so why shouldn’t they all be insane?

Either way, he hadn’t been expecting a warm welcome from anyone within the base, so when it was discovered that they weren’t actually there, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly relieved. However, that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t also concerned for the men, after all they were Engineers, and Ludwigs, team, and more often than not team’s became family, so he was certain that the two men were more than panicked at this point in time. Still, knowing that the Red team had at least made it out did provide comfort, however small it was.

What didn’t bring him comfort was the fact that he was still stuck with Ludwig, especially now that he’d discovered that his team was missing, and that he would not be resting easy tonight, or many, many other future nights. If he were a betting man, he’d say Ludwig was cursing his name and threatening to kill him, like he’d been doing since the moment he refused to let him go.

Did he blame the man for this? Not really, his frustrations were understandable, especially now that everything had been completely upended, but what he couldn’t understand was why the man still hated him with such undying passion.

Yes, he’d caused him a lot of trouble, and he’d most certainly caused him a lot of mental distress, but was it truly so hard for the man to understand that there was reason behind his actions? Was it so hard to believe that he wasn’t the villain in this situation, especially now that everything was threatened by Gray, his very team being forced to leave their home because of him?

That wasn’t his fault, not at all, this had been what he’d been trying to stop, but did Ludwig appreciate that, or even bother with trying to understand it? No, no he just continued to hold onto his hatred towards him, hatred that surely should’ve quelled nearly a month ago. When was the man going to admit that Lawrence had saved his life? That if he’d simply allowed Ludwig to return to his base, he, and probably the rest of his team for that matter, would’ve been killed by Miss Pauling and the Administrator nearly instantly due to the information he had.

That wasn’t a difficult thing to comprehend, Engineer certainly understood it, he’d said as much to him on their journey, so why couldn’t Ludwig understand it? Why did this man continue to blame him for this predicament? He hadn’t been the one to originally kidnap him, he hadn’t been the one orchestrating the war which would’ve killed him for knowing too much, he had just been trying to stop it, and save as many lives as possible in the process.

With that last thought, Lawrence realized that he was trying to rationalize the mind of a lunatic, so he decided to stop thinking about Ludwig, at least for the time being. If the man remained a mystery to him for the rest of his days, so be it, he just had to know enough about him to survive him. Thank God he had Engineer with him, thank God he wasn’t alone with that man anymore, if he even was a man.

In truth, Lawrence believed Ludwig was some kind of devil, he wasn’t why he thought this, he just did.

Either way, this was the path he was now walking, and he just needed to learn how to survive it, and Lord willing, see it to its end in one piece. There was a reason for everything, which meant there was a reason he was still alive and in the company of Ludwig, he just had to figure out what that reason was.

Perhaps it was a test of patience, a test of endurance, or just a challenge to overcome, all he knew was there was a reason, whether liked it, or not.

“Schweinhund! Where are you! You’d better not be getting into something that’s not yours!!!” Ludwig shouted from somewhere in the base, and it was at that moment that Lawrence decided that this was a test of patience. “I swear to Gott if you’re in my room, I’m going to kill you! You hear me schweinhund? Kill you!”

“I’m in the caf Mr. Ludwig, I was just tryin’ to find you boys, nothin’ more.” Lawrence assured, hoping he was successfully hiding the annoyance in his voice, but doubting he was. “Ah, I suppose you aren’t familiar with the layout of the base… Despite the fact that you’ve been snooping around in here before!”

Lawrence muttered a few terribly nasty things under his breath, trying to remember that the man did have a right to be upset, before arguing back, “I wasn’t snooping, Mr. Ludwig, I never made it past the garage, I only messed with Mr. Conagher's phone, we’ve established this.”
“I’m certain that’s all you did.” Ludwig shot back sarcastically, before he finally made his appearance by entering the cafeteria, instantly looking calmer upon laying eyes upon him, though not for any friendly reasons.

“Oh, I see my team employed the use of the tunnel,” Ludwig exclaimed with a bit of surprise, “I do hope the fridge is still plugged in. Anyway, why don’t you join me and Engineer in the med bay? That way I can take a closer look at those nasty little wounds of yours, so that I can heal them! I would hate to be continuously slowed down by you.”
“How terribly considerate.” Lawrence replied emotionlessly, before giving a defeated sigh and walking towards Ludwig in order to follow him.

Did he trust the man to actually try and take care of his wounds? No, no he did not. Did he have any other choice other than continuing to feel pain every time he walked, or did anything at all? Again, no.

At least Engineer would be there, hopefully he wouldn’t let this devil do anything foul to him, or put anything other than human body parts in him. Then again, who really knew what that man was thinking at any given moment. He wanted to trust him, he really did, he had just had a hard time with it, and he knew that was mostly his own fault.

Lawrence had worked alone for two decades, spying, hiding, fighting, learning, lying, just doing everything and anything possible to stay out of the Administrators line of sight while getting information about her, Gray, the true nature of the war, and all those who kept it alive and well. That did something to him, and he knew it, he knew that he needed to let walls down in order to make an actual connection, but that didn’t mean it was easy, especially after…

After what had happened with his own team.

His own family.

Men were fickle, ever changing, ever evolving creatures that never stayed the same, for better, or for worse. Again, he knew that he couldn’t judge all men based on… based on the Boss, that wasn’t to them, but damn it all if his own mind wasn’t broken… his own heart.

Well, he wanted to be better, here was his chance. Here was his first chance at choosing to trust another human being in… God damn, in two decades.

“Right, just have a seat on that table, and I’ll get my medi-gun set up, you’ll be healed in no time!” Ludwig declared with enthusiasm, and Lawrence couldn’t help but notice the shocked expression that instantly made its way onto Engineer's face. “Your medi-gun?” Engineer exclaimed with surprise, “Whaddya mean your medi-gun? We’ve been lookin’ for that thing for ages! We thought it went missing with you!”

“Ah, a fair assumption!” Ludwig assured as he went to move a large bookcase from against the wall, “You see, everytime I have to leave the base without it, I hide it, because between Scout and Demo, I know that one of them is bound to mess with it, or worse, break it.”
“Alright, Scout I get, but why Demo?” Engineer asked as Lawrence got on the table, grunting in pain as he did so. “Have you not met the man?” Ludwig asked with exasperation as he struggled to move the bookcase, “He’s nosy, and whenever I leave something out in the open, he’s the first to, ‘check it out’, and I know he’s been eyeing my medi-gun! Engineer, could you help me move this, bitte? It’s a bit heavier than I remember.”

With a weary sigh, Engineer did walk over to assist Ludwig with his endeavor, but not before he and Lawrence shared a look that acknowledged the fact that the bookcase hadn’t gotten heavier. That was something Lawrence did feel badly about, having caused Ludwig to lose some of his strength and overall body mass, but it was one of those things that he just couldn’t help, especially when the man had posed such an incredible flight risk. Alas, there was nothing to be done now, and even in the short time he’d been set free, he was already beginning to look healthier.

“And… There!” Ludwig declared with triumph once the bookcase had successfully been moved, “This is exactly why my lab should be left alone! If that idiot you replaced me with hadn’t been here, then there wouldn’t be so many books on this shelf, and we’d have an easier time moving it! Honestly, you’d think that dummkopf would at least try and respect the system I had, instead of just-”

Lawrence had been the first to notice the absence of the medi-gun within the secret compartment behind the bookcase, he just hadn’t been sure about what to say, though now that the others saw this too, he didn’t feel quite so awkward.

The question of why the medi-gun wasn’t there didn’t linger for very long, logically he knew that the army must’ve found it and taken it along with everything else they deemed important in the med bay, it was why they’d bothered with putting the bookcase back that boggled Lawrence’s mind. There wasn’t any reason for it, really it didn’t make any sense at all and was just useless work for them to do, but then again maybe one of the higher officers had just felt like ordering the newbies around. Either way, the medi-gun wasn’t there, and Ludwig looked like he could very well snap at any given moment.

Rightfully so Lawrence supposed, after all that machine was most likely his pride and joy, his magnum opus in the medical world, and now it was gone. Truly, the man’s luck was just getting worse and worse, or maybe this was just karma catching up to him at long last. Lawrence determined it was probably karma.

“Doc? You good?” Engineer asked carefully, though the only response he got was the prominent twitching of Ludwigs left eye, the rest of his body remaining completely still, too still for someone who most definitely had far too many emotions running through him. If Lawrence were a betting man, he’d say that the likelihood of Ludwig turning and shooting him in the head had just increased about tenfold.

Then, as if a switch flipped, Ludwig took in a sharp inhale, before regaining his crazed, absolutely terrifying smile, and declared, “Well! Isn’t that wonderful! Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any better! Oh well, nothing to be done now! Anyway, I’m going to go puke, I’ll be right back!”

Without another word, Ludwig left the med bay as quickly as possible, slamming the door shut behind him with enough force to shake the room, promptly startling the bevy of doves that had been resting in the beams above. For the next minute or so, the only sound to be heard was the cooing of Medic’s doves, who were all more than delighted to be back home with their usual perches. It wasn’t an awkward silence per say, just a terribly loud one, the kind that caused both men to look everywhere but each other.

Before they knew it though, Ludwig returned, looking just slightly paler, that maniacal glint in his eye now shining even brighter than before, his smile having most definitely grown. “Ok! New plan! New plan…” Ludwig muttered to himself as he walked back into the med bay, quickly making his way to the sink in the corner and kneeling down to the ground. “I didn’t want to have to do this, not like this anyway, but we all must swallow our pride at some point, ja?”

“Doc, whaddya doin’?” Engineer asked with concern, but still Ludwig ignored him, now grabbing a scalpel from a nearby tray and using it to pry a panel off the floor. “Then again, it will only be Engineer that knows, after all Lawrence will be dead within the month!” Ludwig continued to mutter to himself, his smile never faltering, “And at this rate, it will take years to find Misha! What’s another blow to the ego? What’s another piece of dignity lost amidst the hellfire that is my life!”

“Doc?” Engineer asked again, and it was at that point that Lawrence decided that maybe he should get off the operating table before something bad happened to him, and just deal with the pain and natural healing process that came with his injuries. “There we are! My greatest shame, not put to excellent use!” Ludwig declared with mock triumph, quickly getting up and walking back to Lawrence before he could leave the table, much to his personal dismay.

What the madman held within his hand was a small vile that contained a red, transparent liquid, which bubbled slightly as it was moved around, moving just a bit slower than water usually would. What exactly this liquid was, was a mystery to both Lawrence and Engineer, who exchanged concerned glances with each other before refocusing in Ludwig.

“What the hell is that?” Lawrence asked skeptically, watching as Ludwig walked to another tray to grab a syringe, which he quickly filled with the red liquid. “This, schweinhund, is the liquified vapors of the medi-gun,” Ludwig explained as he flicked the syringe a few times, “it’s been something I’ve been experimenting with for some time now. You see, it is… it is a homage to the crossbow used by the inferior Blu Medic, nothing more. I just… saw how he was able to use that weapon to heal his compatriots at such a long distance, and thought… Well you see what happened was-”

“You were inspired by ‘im.” Engineer interrupted, just the slightest smile now forming on his face. “NEIN!!!” Ludwig shrieked in protest, his smile faltering for only a moment, “Nein, I was NOT inspired by someone who can just barely be qualified as a mercenary! I was not! I just thought that… that the idea was crude, and could be expanded upon by a more scientific mind! Like mine! Anyway, the liquid heals, however collecting it proved to be a rather… complicated process, as well as time consuming. How my inferior managed to perfect the process is beyond me, but I imagine it's very crude!”

“Well it’s faster than whatever method you're using, right?” Lawrence asked innocently, instantly causing Ludwig to shoot him a nasty glare, one that nearly made him regret his comment. Nearly.

“Yes… I suppose it is…” Ludwig admitted with some effort, before he instantly walked over to him and said, “Now then, would you like to be healed or not?” To say Lawrence was skeptical of the true nature of the liquid would be an understatement, he was downright convinced that the liquid was some kind of poison, and that this was how the devil was going to kill him. Logically, he knew that he was just being paranoid, however he also knew that his paranoia was founded upon very solid evidence, after all the man had just said he’d be dead within the month.

Trust was one thing, blind acceptance was another, and he’d learned his lesson many years ago about blind acceptance.

“How do I know that ain’t some kinda poison?” Lawrence asked suspiciously, and he watched as the madman's smile grew just enough to notice, the dangerous spark in his eye flaring up again, something within him growing darker, yet darker. Without a word, Ludwig rolled up his own sleeve, set the syringe down to grab a scalpel, then sliced his arm open, giving himself a long, deep cut which began to bleed profusely. Neither Engineer nor Lawrence had time to process this action when Ludwig set down the scalpel and grabbed the syringe again, quickly finding a vein and injecting himself with the red liquid. Seconds later, the cut began to close itself, until all that remained was the blood on his arm, which he didn’t even bother to wipe away.

“There? Happy?” Ludwig asked coldly, his dark smile never fading as a nasty chill ran down Lawrence's spin, some part of him feeling sick and unnerved. “I’ve just wasted some of our precious healing supply for your paranoia. Now then, why don’t you stop being such a baby, and take your medicine? I only want to help.”

That didn’t sit right with Lawrence, that didn’t sit right with him one bit.

Reluctantly though, he did roll up his sleeve and hold out his arm, unintentionally revealing old scars from too many decades ago as he tried to soothe his uneasy heart, trying and failing to use logic to assure himself that he was safe. Thankfully, Ludwig was quick and precise with his injection of the liquified vapors, instantly bringing the older man relief as his incessant pain finally left him, along with a few other aches he hadn’t even noticed he’d had.

While he was grateful, he just couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled within his very soul, some part deep within himself screaming at him to get away from this lunatic before he was killed. Alas, he couldn’t just leave, and knew it, not yet anyway, not with so much at stake, not after everything he’d done to the man, he owed him that much.

Still, it was clear to him now that Ludwig was a devil, one that would kill him in a heartbeat if given the chance, so he’d just have to make sure his guard stayed up until this mission was over. Yes, he needed to learn to trust again, he knew this, but he would never trust such a monster as Fritz Ludwig.

***

Dinner consisted of ramen noodles, a few microwaved hotdogs, and whatever fruit hadn’t spoiled in the fridge, though that was more than enough to fill all three men. By the looks of things, and based on how the majority of the food in the fridge was still edible, the team hadn’t been gone for very long, which was a good sign. However, despite having these small reliefs, and despite having been starving not even two hours before, Ludwig found he just didn’t have much of an appetite.

Yes, he ate, but only because he knew he needed it, and because he knew that it was important if he wanted to have a proper sleep, and not one riddled with stomach cramps, like the last few nights had been. That hadn’t been anyone's fault, he had enough sense to recognize that, they just hadn’t had a lot of food, and there hadn’t been any game to hunt either to make up for what they consumed. They’d tried once or twice to kill something, but the only successful hunters in the party had turned out to be Hypatia and Athena, who had managed to produce a single mouse between the two of them.

Archimedes had been incredibly jealous of them, and had opted to sleep with Ludwig that night instead of with the rest of the bevy.

That was all in the past though, and while the past was a very important part of life, that certain bit of it was not, and right now the present moment was demanding that a hot shower be had, lest he kill Lawrence.

He wanted to, he so badly wanted to take his ubersaw and shove it into his heart, or his stomach, or maybe just his lungs, just to make him have an agonizing death where he slowly choked on his own blood. That was a wonderful thought, such a wonderful, wonderful thought, but no, he couldn’t do that, not yet anyway.

No, no, unfortunately he’d have to wait for such a wonderful moment to come, but until then, there was nothing stopping him from making that wretched man’s life as miserable as possible. Yes, he had healed him, but if he hadn’t, then the group would have continued to be slowed down, and he just couldn’t have that, not when Heavy seemed so incredibly close.

Just a little longer now, just a little bit longer, and everything would be set right. If not, the world would just have to burn.

Upon stepping into the bathroom, Ludwig was suddenly hit with the realization that this would be his first proper shower in almost three months, and that he was finally, truly alone. Incredibly enough, this made him pause, for he was simply stunned over the fact that he was actually standing within his home, however altered it was.

The thing that disturbed him most was how eerily quiet it was, how still, how dead. Last Ludwig remembered, it was a rare thing to take a shower alone, but here he was, alone in the bathroom with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company.

No mechanical guards, no Gray, no Lawrence, no Engineer, no doves, just him.

Truth be told, it was an oddly liberating realization, one which caused a weight to be lifted from him. Alone, he was finally alone. No one judging him, no one watching him, no one guarding him, no one at all. Just him.

With a quiet laugh, Ludwig quickly went and turned on the warm water, and waited for it to reach perfection with patience, even though he couldn’t really remember the last time he’d been patient. Perhaps this was caused by the understanding that there was nothing to be done until dawn, and that rest was the best thing to do until then, or maybe his mind had finally worn itself out. The last time he’d been this exhausted was… Oh well, he didn’t like thinking about those years, so he decided to focus on the present again.

Once the water was perfect, Ludwig stepped under it without hesitation, shuddering for a moment as his body adjusted to the heat, before finally accepting the warmth that now embraced him.

It was heavenly.

For what felt like an eternity, Ludwig simply stood under the warm water, his mind finally blank, his anger and hatred melting away, if only for the night. Those feelings would return in time, he counted on it, but for now that wasn’t his concern, nothing concerned him.

There was just this, just this eternity in the warm water that finally cleansed him of all the stress, fear, anger, hatred, sadness, and disgust that had consumed him so wholly for far too long. It felt good, it felt so good to wash the past away, and to finally, finally start anew. He was free, he was home, and he was warm, well and truly warm

Two hours later, Ludwig finally left the showers, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to him now that his body had finally relaxed, making him realize just how weak he had truly become. Really, since when had he gotten so skinny? Oh well, that sort of thing was bound to happen with the conditions he had been living in, but now he had the entire future to fix himself up again, and wouldn’t that be fun? Who knew what sort of things he could do to himself now that he was in such poor condition, it was like a brand-new start!

Then again, self-experimentation was always risky without a proper partner, and there was no way Engineer would agree to help at this current moment in time. Such a pity, but Engineer had always been one for logic, so he supposed he could forgive his unwillingness to help him, but only until their lives had stabilized again.

He’d opted to not say any goodnights to his companions, enjoying the fact that he was by himself, and not wanting to see Lawrence again for the rest of the night, even though it barely qualified as night. Yes, everyone was going to bed ridiculously early, but they all needed it, and that was ok.

After collecting all of his doves, Ludwig made his way straight to bed, or more accurately, straight to Heavy’s room. Truth be told, he hadn’t slept in his own room for a little over a year now, having instead opted to sleep with his lover, after all, what was the point of being so madly in love if one only showed it during the day? No, no Heavy’s room had practically become their room, and how the rest of the team hadn’t figured out their little secret yet was beyond him.

Good, he didn’t want them prying or judging his personal life, though even if they did, he could always kill them for it.

“Oh Misha…” Ludwig muttered as he walked into his lover's room, hating to see it in such a state of disarray, though compared to the state of some of the other rooms, it wasn’t so bad. “Ach, if only I had been here… They’d all be dead. Dead for even entering our little sanctum. At least your desk is still intact. Heh, hehehe, I wonder what they thought when they saw Sasha’s bed? Hoo, I’m sure they were terribly confused.”

With a soft sigh, Ludwig made his way over to his lover's bed, and instantly collapsed upon it, allowing himself to get lost within the smell of his lover, which still hung strongly within the sheets and blankets. If he really tried, if he closed his eyes real tight, it was almost like Heavy was there with him, comforting him with his presence.

“Misha…” Ludwig whispered brokenly, now gripping at the blankets as tears threatened to overtake him, just wishing to have his love within his arms, just wanting to hear his voice, just wanting to feel his heartbeat against him. Was that too much to ask? Was it too much to simply be reunited with his Misha? It hurt, it hurt so bad to be away from him, especially like this.

How much longer would he have to wait? How much harder would he have to fight? What else did he need to do in order to make his world whole again?

Before he could become completely lost within his sorrow, the cooing of Archimedes caught Ludwigs's attention, causing him to turn his head towards the dove, who was now sitting atop one of the floor panels while bouncing and flapping his wings. “Archimedes, I am trying to lament, can this wait?” Ludwig asked quietly, struggling to swallow down the lump that had begun to form in his throat as he addressed his bird. However, Archimedes only continued his hopping and flapping, now looking anxiously between Ludwig and the floor below him.

With a sniff, Ludwig wearily got out of bed and walked over to his beloved bird, and began to inspect the area while stroking his head lovingly. “What have you found, my little friend?” Ludwig murmured quietly, wiping his tears with one hand while feeling the floor with his other.

At first, he felt nothing out of the ordinary, save from a chip on its corner just big enough to fit a pencil into, however when he knocked on it, it sounded hollow underneath.

That made his eyes go wide, and he found himself frozen in place, his heart pounding in his ears as he realized what exactly Archimedes had found, or more accurately, was showing him.

Of course Heavy would keep a hidden compartment in his room, after all, the man had grown up in soviet Russia.

“Archimedes… How long have you known about this?” Ludwig asked as calmly as he could manage, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. In response, Archimedes flew away as quickly as possible, cooing guiltily as he did so. “ARCHIMEDES!!! YOU TRAITOR!!! You and Misha aren’t supposed to keep secrets from me!” Ludwig shrieked furiously, now desperately searching Heavy’s desk for anything that could be used to pry open, making an even larger mess of the desk's surface as he did so.

Thankfully, he was able to find a pen rather quickly, which he quickly used to pry open the floor panel, tossing it away with as much speed as possible as he looked into the compartment below.

Again, he froze, overwhelmed with both indescribable joy, and unimaginable sorrow.

The only things stored within the compartment were two large stacks of envelopes, with one envelope with the date from two days previous being laid over the other two stacks, signaling its importance.

These were for him.

These had been left behind for him to find.

There were so many… Had he really been gone that long?

“Misha…” Ludwig whispered, gently taking the top letter from the compartment, fearing that somehow it would disappear within his grasp. It felt heavier than he thought it would, but then again Heavy used only the best papers for his writing, such was his passion.

“Misha…” Ludwig said again, the mere sight of his handwriting bringing him to tears as he carefully began to open the envelope, not wanting to tear it, not wanting to somehow break this only part of his love that had been left behind for him. Once it was open, he carefully removed the letter from within, and opened it, eager to hear his lover's voice, eager to have some part of him that wasn’t stagnant

My darling Fritz, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

“It’s ok, I forgive you.”

I swear to you, I have never stopped searching for you, I have never given up hope that we would be reunited, I promise, I have not stood idly in your absence.

“I know, I know you haven’t, it’s not in your nature.”

I wanted to find you, I wanted to hold you close, I wanted to hear you laugh, I wanted to see your smile.

“I want to hear your heartbeat, I want to see the smile in your eyes when you look at me, I want all of you.”

Something is happening, we are being forced away from our home by the army, I don’t know why, else I would tell you.

“That’s ok, I know why, and it’s so incredibly stupid.”

I don’t know if we’ll make it out, I don't know where we’ll go, I don’t know what will happen next, but I promise I will never stop looking for you, my darling Fritz.

“I know… You’ve said that already… Gott, I bet you’ve said that in all your letters…”

If somehow I lose our team, if for some reason we must all split ways, or if everything turns out alright and this whole mess resolves itself, I will return to Siberia to be with my family, to protect them from harm.

“Siberia… I can make it there.”

I don’t know if I will even make it that far, nor do I know how long it will take me to reach it, but that is where you should go to meet me. I trust you remember my mother, I know she remembers you.

“Ha! I will never forget her!”

My darling Fritz, I love you, I love you so much, and I’m sorry I don’t have more answers for you, I’m sorry I’m not there to greet you, I’m sorry I’m not there to hold you.

“It’s ok, it can’t be helped, meine Misha…”

I wish I had more time, I wish I could write to you longer, but I must leave now. I love you, my darling, I love you more than life itself. Please, please forgive me, forgive me for failing you. You are undeserving of your fate. I love you.

Yours truly, Misha.

“... I forgive you, Misha… I forgive you…”

While pressing the letter to his heart, while allowing the voice of his lover to die away within his head, Fritz Ludwig began to weep. It wasn’t a grand event, it was quiet, so incredibly quiet, but all the same his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces, knowing that he’d been so close, knowing that if they’d done things just a little bit differently, he’d be back within his lover's embrace right now.

It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair.

“Misha… Misha…” Ludwig wept quietly, that once comforting sense of loneliness now turning into something much hollower, and much more painful. Why? Why was he being denied his Misha? Why did this hurt so Goddamn much? This was torture, this was pure, unyielding torture.

>“Misha…”

Just when he thought he would drown, just when he thought he would be consumed by the darkness within his heart, Archimedes returned to him, sitting quietly on his shoulder while rubbing his head into Ludwigs's neck, trying his best to provide comfort. This caused a broken laugh to escape the Ludwig, who leaned into the touch ever so gently, still letting his tears fall as he did this, not even attempting to stop them.

“Danke, Archimedes… Vielen dank…” Ludwig whispered sorrowfully, to which the little bird cooed sympathetically in response, pressing itself closer into him. With a weary sigh, Ludwig forced himself to get off the floor, though he was quick to make his way back to the bed and collapse into it once again. This time though, he quickly made his way under the blankets, and got himself comfortable on Heavy’s side of the bed, finding that the man had left somewhat of an imprint upon it.

felt like Heavy, it smelled like Heavy, but that was all.

It almost wasn’t enough for Ludwig.

Thank God his lover's words were fresh within his mind. Plus, he had so many other letters to read through, so many stories, so many ramblings, so much catching up to do with the day to day of the Red base. That brought him comfort, it really did.

Still, for the first time in his life, Ludwig cried himself to sleep, the now bittersweet scent of Heavy helping him to finally rest his exhausted mind and body, the letter held firmly against his heart, its words soothing his aching soul.

Chapter Text

“Uh… Right, uh… Lemme see ‘ere… I’ll take uh… I’ll take five cheeseburgers… two double cheeseburgers… uh…six fries… two fried chicken sandwiches… four chocolate milkshakes… uh… Ok, which one of you fucks actually ordered the fish sandwich?”
“Is there something wrong with the fillet of fish?”
“Yes, Spy, it’s fuckin’ gross! Jesus… Apparently I’ll take a filet o’ fish sandwich, and uh… seven cokes… uh… Anyone want anything else?”
“... Can I also have a milkshake, bitte?”
“... Yeah, yeah I can do that mate… Could ya kindly make that five chocolate milkshakes? Not four, five please… And uh… Yeah, that’ll be it.”

Sniper waited a moment as a young teenage girl with frizzy hair took down his order, seemingly not caring about the fact that he’d just been talking into his radio to two men with distinctly foreign accents. That was a good thing though, so long as she continued not to question anything else about him, or the fact that he’d pulled up in the van that was clearly being broadcast on the TV behind her, blurred and poor though the images were.

Since Scout had determined that his brother could get them to Australia, they’d spent the rest of that day planning out the safest route to San Francisco, then had promptly set off the next morning. So far they’d driven about a day and a half, and only had two hours to go before arriving at the city, which would put their arrival time at 3 O’clock that afternoon. It was truly a miracle that they’d managed to make such excellent time given their circumstances, and Sniper had to admit, it really hadn’t been that terrible of a drive.

Unfortunately they’d underestimated how much food they’d go through within that time period, and no one had eaten since dinner the previous night, which meant that an impromptu food stop had been called for by the majority of the team. Of course, had Sniper realized that he’d be the one ordering, he would’ve made the executive decision to wait until they’d reached San Francisco to get food. Alas, how on earth was he supposed to know that he’d be deemed the least suspicious looking in the group?

“Alright, your total’ll be $8.42.” the girl with the frizzy hair said as she popped some gum, now looking at Sniper just a bit closer, then looking out at his van, which was parked right outside. “Bloody hell, what’s food prices comin’ to these days…” Sniper muttered to himself as he fished out his money, not noticing how he was definitely being recognized at that moment. “Hey, don’t blame me mister, I just work here.” the girl said with a shrug, before getting his order to the cooks in the back.

“Heh, fair enough.” Sniper muttered as he paid, then sighed as he looked around, not liking that he’d had to stop for something as ridiculous as Mcdonalds. “Watchya so antsy about mister?” the girl asked as she chewed her gum, quickly bringing Snipers attention to her. “Ah, it’s nothin’,” Sniper assured as he adjusted his hat, “just a bit… tired, yeah, long drive, ya know?”
“Sure, get a lotta folks like that.” the girl replied, continuing to look Sniper over quietly, instantly putting the man on edge.

Then, she did a slow look around, looking as though she was just checking the number of guests in the restaurant and nothing more, before she leaned towards Sniper just enough to notice, and asked just quietly enough to be considered quiet, “So, you one’a those Teufort nine guys?” Sniper froze, the blood draining from his face as he struggled for a response, a lie, something to throw her off of his true identity. Damn it all, he knew this had been a bad idea, but no, burgers had been more important than safety, because of course they had.

“Uuuuuhhhhhh….” Sniper said blankly, trying to figure out what the next best thing to do was. Killing her would be the simplest solution, but he’d never killed a kid before, and that wasn’t something he wanted on his resume, or his conscience for that matter. Bribery was the next best option, but all things considered, he wasn't sure that the team could afford that much hush money. He could always try a scare tactic, but something told him she wasn’t going to buy it, not with the way she was currently looking at him.

Crap.

“Hey man, I don’t care, fuck the government if you ask me, I’m just asking.” she assured nonchalantly, the slightest smile now upon her face while she blew another bubble with her gum. Sniper wasn’t sure what it was, but something about that little smile gave him assurance that he wasn’t in any danger, and that she well and truly meant it when she had said, ‘fuck the government.’ Once he too made a quick check of the surrounding area, Sniper also leaned in just enough to notice, and in a much quieter tone he said, “Yeah, so what if I am? You ain’t gonna get me in trouble for it, are ya?”

“Fuck no.” she promised, her smile growing, a sly expression now replacing the previously bored one she’d held. “Good to hear kid,” Sniper said as he stood straight again, “nice to know we got some allies around these parts.”
“Yeah, but not many,” she warned as she continued to chew her gum, “if I were you, I wouldn’t be parking that big van out where everyone can see it.”
“I know, I know, but there wasn’t anywhere good to put it, ‘sides, didn’t think they’d be reporting on us all the way out ‘ere.”
“Fair enough, but if I were a bettin’ woman I’d say they’re reporting on you guys from the Pacific to this side of the Rockies. You guys got pretty famous overnight.”
“Course we did…”

Another twenty or so minutes passed before the food was finally finished, at which point Sniper realized that he would have to somehow carry all of the food back to his van by himself. This caused him to simply stare at the seemingly mountainous pile of food and drinks before him, the understanding that he’d have to make multiple trips not sitting well with him.

All because his team just desperately needed burgers… and a freaking fish sandwich.

Three trips later, all that was left was the five milkshakes, which Sniper simply sighed at for a moment, happy to finally be done with this ordeal, and looking forward to getting back on the road. Burgers… the idiots had just needed burgers that badly… and a stupid fish sandwich… and some stupid milkshakes… and some stupid fries…

A crappy fish sandwich… Why on God’s green earth did Spy want a crappy fish sandwich?

“Uh… Mister?” the girl with the frizzy hair asked bluntly, instantly pulling Sniper from his mind. Damn it, he’d been doing it again. Damn it all, why was he like this?

“Oh, uh… Yeah, sorry, I’ll be goin’ now.” Sniper quickly muttered, but before he could grab the shakes, a pen and paper were quickly set down in front of him, causing him to pause in his action. “So… weird request…” the girl said, now slightly looking away, as if there were something more interesting outside, “Since you’re basically a famous anarchist now… Would you mind if I had your signature? I’m probably never gonna get this chance again so… It’d be pretty sick if you did that.”

Deep down within him, within a part of himself that Sniper didn’t even know existed, the smallest bit of, dare he think it, ego, began to glow within him, along with a sense of pride with himself that he hadn’t felt in a long time. This had never happened to him before, being seen as famous, so the understanding that someone was admiring him, that someone was looking up to him, that made him feel oddly happy.

“Uh… Yeah, yeah I could do that for ya.” Sniper managed to get out, trying to hide the faintest smile that was now starting to creep over his face. “Sick.” the girl stated, a grin spreading over her face as Sniper gave his signature, nearly writing out his real name before reminding himself that his pseudonym would be more appropriate. Once he’d signed the paper, he then tipped his hat politely, and grabbed the milkshakes before heading on his way.

“Good luck man! You’r’e gonna need it!” the girl called out, which caused Sniper to smile even more, an odd, warm feeling now entering him at the realization that someone actually thought he was cool. He’d never considered himself cool before, nor did he ever think that someone would think of him as such, yet here he was, being seen as cool. That was one of the best feelings he’d ever had.

“Aw yeah! Shake time!” Scout exclaimed as Sniper got into his van, leaning through the window that led to the back as he tried to grab one of the shakes from Sniper, who simply handed him one as he awkwardly climbed into his van as Scout disappeared into the back.

“What are ya doin’ lad!” Sniper heard Demo exclaim in horror while he handed the rest of the shakes to Heavy, who currently reigned over the passenger side and was handing the rest of the shakes to the back. “Uh, enjoyin’ my shake?” Scout answered with annoyance. “Ya’re puttin’ yar fries in it! Ya’re not even drinkin’ it!”
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘till you’ve tried it! It’s good shit right here.”

Pyro was very quick to agree with this, to which Demo stated, “Well of course you agree with ‘im, the both of ya share a single brain cell between the two of ya, bouncin’ it back an’ forth like ping pong!”
“That ain’t true!” Scout shot back as Sniper began to pull out, “Pyro is an independent thinker, who has his own thoughts and opinions, right dude?” Pyro quickly agreed with this, which simply got a disgruntled scoff from Demo.

“I am inclined to agree with Scout!” Soldier exclaimed, “Putting your fries in a chocolate milkshake is a strong American tradition! Granted, it is only enjoyable if the fries are hot and salty, but if the fries meet those two standards, it makes what is already an amazing dessert even better!”

“Well I dunnae about you, but I plan on enjoyin’ my shake the traditional way! With a straw!” With that, Sniper listened as Demo began to slurp down his shake extra loudly, before crying out in agony as a brain freeze overtook him. “See, there’s another benefit to the fries in the shake,” Scout jeered while Pyro laughed at the poor man, “no brain freezes.”

“Try putting your tongue to the roof of your mouth and holding it there,” Medic suggested, “I find that makes them go away faster.” After a few moments of listening to Demo groaning in pain, Sniper listened as the man gave a relieved sigh, before saying, “Thanks lad, that’s a mighty fine trick.”
“That it is.” Medic agreed, and Sniper just sighed to himself as he began to carefully unwrap his chicken sandwich, wondering if it would be worth making a mess in his van to simply brake check his team. No, it would just be too hard to clean with their current situation, not to mention the fact that the coke would probably make everything ridiculously sticky. No, he couldn’t do that, he’d just have to imagine it, and imagine that it wouldn’t be happening in his van.

“You need help?” Heavy asked as he began to eat his burger, to which Sniper simply sighed and nodded, handing him his sandwich as Heavy unwrapped it for him. “Thanks mate.” Sniper said once Heavy handed it back to him, to which Heavy simply grunted his appreciation through his full mouth as the two men began to eat in silence.

It continued to stay silent in the front, with the chatter in the back providing background noise as Sniper began to get into the rhythm of driving and eating, trying to let his mind go blank, simply wanting to enjoy the peace for however long it lasted. It stayed this way for the better part of an hour, until the van finally became completely quiet, the warm atmosphere combined with the full bellies of the team putting almost everyone to sleep, or at the very least a half-dazed rest. Even Sniper wasn’t completely immune to this effect, especially with the afternoon sun beating down on him, but he remained vigilante in his role as the driver, and simply took pleasure in the comfy silence.

He then absentmindedly looked towards Heavy, and noticed that he seemed to be staring into space, a deep, thoughtful look upon his face, a hint of worried sadness within his eyes. That made Sniper feel just a bit awkward, knowing exactly what he was thinking about, or more accurately, who.

Since learning that Ludwig was alive, as well as why Spy had truly accepted this mission, Heavy had grown quieter than usual, simply keeping to himself, an unusually melancholy air now surrounding him. Everyone had noticed, but Heavy had made no comment on it, simply saying that he was worried for Ludwig, and that had been enough to satisfy the team, if only temporarily. Medic and Demo definitely had their suspicions, but thankfully both men were sensible enough to keep those thoughts to themselves, and simply offer support and comfort in whatever ways they could.

Still, Sniper knew from experience that bottling up emotions never led to good things, Spy had proven that much to him, so he figured that he should once again take on the role of a therapist and try to talk to his friend. Honestly, if he’d known that he’d be the one regulating his team's many emotions, he would’ve simply become a therapist instead of a sniper, that way he’d be getting paid for dealing with their ridiculousness.

Before saying anything though, Sniper quickly looked into the back of his van to make sure everyone was still sleeping, finding that Spy and Medic were sitting at his dining area, leaning against each other in peaceful sleep, along with Demo, who was leaning against the wall, also asleep. Soldier was on the floor snoring quietly, with Scout laying his head against his back, also sleeping, and last but not least, Pyro was also on the floor, quietly drawing a picture of Scout and Soldier. Sniper was eternally grateful for the fact that none of them were in his bed, and that they all respected him enough to stay out of his things. He just hoped it stayed that way.

Finally, he turned back to Heavy, and after thinking it over for a moment, he whispered with concern, “Hey, you alright big guy?” This seemed to awaken Heavy from his thoughts, as he took a moment to blink before turning to Sniper, who was trying to give his attention to Heavy while also keeping an eye on the road. Heavy then sighed deeply, before looking out the window again and quietly answering, “Da, Heavy is good… Is just… hard…”

Sniper just nodded in understanding, wishing there was more he could do to offer him comfort other than simply telling him it would all work out, but he really didn’t know what to say. “I… I do not blame Spy, is not his fault,” Heavy continued quietly, an undercurrent of sorrow flowing through his voice, “he… Spy is doing everything he can, I see that… I just…” Heavy then sighed again, and began to blink rapidly in an attempt to keep back his tears, struggling to find the right words to explain what he was feeling.

“I want to trust, I do… but I don’t… Spy lies, he tried to lie to me… I fear he lies about other things too… He is leader, but now, I feel he is…”
“Not actin’ like one?” Sniper stated, half feeling it was true, half knowing that Spy was doing his very best given his own problems. “Da…” Heavy admitted quietly, a hint of shame in his voice, “I know he is trying, I know he is good at heart… but…”
“Hey, if it makes ya feel any better, I promise ya he ain’t holdin’ back any truths about this mission, aside from what you already know.” Sniper promised, checking his map to make sure he hit the right exit. “Ya, he’s a wuss about tellin’ the truth, and he… how do I put this… he’s holdin’ secrets, but none that affect this mission, promise… and in case you’re wonderin’, no, he ain’t got no clue as to where Engie is, Pauling don’t either.”

“You believe him?” Heavy asked, shame and hesitancy thick within his voice, though Sniper couldn’t blame him. “Yeah, I do, and if I ever stop believin’ ‘im, you’ll be the first person I tell.” Sniper assured with a smile, to which Heavy gave a small smile back, if only for a moment. The man then turned and continued looking out the window, sighing softly as he did so.

“Still thinkin’ about the doc?” Sniper asked, once again trying to read the map while driving, wanting to ask for Heavy’s help with it, but not wanting to interrupt his needed release. “Da…” Heavy admitted, before giving a small laugh and saying, “Is pathetic, no? Is like he consume every part of me now… I should be focused on mission, I should be focused on team… but… I find thoughts drift to him… and to Pauling…”
“Feel ya there.” Sniper stated as he put the map over the steering wheel, the realization that he didn’t really know where he was on the map causing him to have a slight panic attack. He knew he was on the right road, he just didn’t know where he was on it, and worse, if he’d passed the exit he needed to get off at.

“I… I know she is worse than Spy, you know, when it comes to lying and secrets, I have known since before tiny doctor was part of team… I just… I still thought we were friends… I didn’t think she cared so… so little…”
“Honestly… Yeah, she stung me pretty bad too…” Sniper admitted as he looked over the map, trying to remember what exit they’d just passed, “I kinda just figured that she was just tryin’ to do good by the Administrator, ya know? Be a good employee and all… But she’s dead now, so why the hell is she still… Fuck I don’t even know what she’s tryin’ to do.”

“Mmhmm, Heavy agrees… Pauling doesn’t care for world, or for Gray… Heavy thinks it is something else…”
“Like?” Sniper asked, now completely buried within the map. “... I don’t know… Nyet, I lie, I do… is just… hmm… Is weird.”
“Weird how?”
“Uh… You know how sometimes tiny doctor looks at Spy, and you think, ‘huh… is…’ oh what is word…”
“Obsessed. Starstruck. Twitterpated. Head over heels. Hopelessly in love, and my personal favorite, completely and utterly enamored.”
“Da, all of those… anyway, you know how he looks at Spy like that? I think… I think that Pauling… Might have looked that way toward- SNIPER ROAD!!!”

“Huh?” Sniper said, a bit confused, before finally looking up from the map, and realizing that there was a traffic jam ahead, and that he was still doing eighty five miles and rapidly approaching.

Crap.

Instantly Sniper slammed the brakes on his van, screeching to a halt while instinctively moving his hand in front of Heavy to keep him from slamming into the dashboard. From the back of the van, several surprised shouts sounded, the cries of Medic and Scout being the most prominent, along with the colliding of several weapons and bodies. Time seemed to speed up, and the stopped car ahead got closer, and closer, and closer, while the van didn’t appear to be slowing.

Crap. This was now their journey ended then? Distracted driving. How anti-climatic… yet completely par for the course.

Somehow though, through divine intervention, or more accurately, sheer dumb luck, the van stopped hardly an inch away from the car in front of them, momentarily rocking as it finally came to a complete stop.

Sniper couldn’t breathe, his heart too far up his throat to allow airflow, his body too numb to actually remember how to take in air, let alone exhale. Next to him, Heavy did breathe, he breathed in long, and deep, gripping both the door and his seat like his life depended on it. For a moment, not a word was said from anyone, save a few groans that came from Soldier, Pyro, and Scout, all of whom were now in a pile against the wall behind Sniper.

Finally, after far too many seconds of silence, Demo could be heard in the back saying, “I’m flattered Spy, really, however I don’t go for lads who are already datin’, let alone lads who are datin’ my good friend… Actually, I don’t go for lads in general.”
“IMBECILE!” Spy shrieked in response, before the frantic sounds of shuffling and people untangling from one another became obvious, and the sound of Spy falling to the floor echoed. Seconds later, Spy was at the window that connected the back to the front, and shouted a bit breathlessly, “What the hell was that!?!”

“Uh… Uh… There was a deer.” Sniper managed to get out, not having moved an inch, one hand still on Heavy, while his other hand gripped the steering wheel in a death grip. “A deer?” Spy asked venomously, before looking ahead and bluntly stating, “Did that deer happen to be driving a Toyota Corolla?”
“Uh… Yeah, yeah it did.”
“Unbelievable.”

“Oh my God! Oh my God, I think I broke my nose!” Scout cried out, definitely sounding stuffy, his voice clearly indicating pain. “Oh crab! Oh crab I’m bleein’ everywhere! Doc! Doc, ya gotta helb me man!”
“Merde!” Spy hissed out, leaving the window and exclaiming, “Doctor? Doctor, are you alright?”

“Ja… Ja, I’m ok…” Medic assured, not quite sounding ok, mostly due to the fact that he was still in shock, though he certainly sounded like he was in discomfort as well. “You’re certain?” Spy pressed, his voice becoming more distant as he made his way back to Medic, “Nothing hurts, nothing feels wrong, you’re ok?”
“Ja… Oh, oh mein Herz… Mein armes Herz…”
“Your arms hurt?”
“Nein, nein meine Engel, forgive me, that’s just me speaking German.”

Spy then let out a relieved sigh, before another moment of silence entered the van as everyone started to calm down, aside from the sound of Scout's pained groans, and a bit of shuffling around as the men readjusted themselves. The silence was then interrupted by the sound of the medi-gun being turned on, along with a sigh of relief from Scout.

It was during that silence that Heavy noticed Sniper's hand still on his chest, but he wasn’t sure that moving it was the right thing to do, unsure as to where Sniper was in his mentality. Truth be told though, Sniper’s mind was simply frozen, along with the rest of his body, trying desperately to catch up with the current moment, trying to assure itself that they weren’t crashing, and that they had indeed stopped in time.

He’d been that close to crashing, that close to messing everything up, that close to destroying his van.

It didn’t feel real, this moment, this silence, this stillness, everything had been manageable not even thirty seconds ago, now everything was wrong.

It didn’t seem quiet, though he knew it was, it just didn’t feel quiet.

Why was it so loud?

Why did his van feel small?

“Yo Snipe, ya got some towels back here or somethin’?” Scout asked before blowing his nose into what Sniper hoped was a tissue, “I kinda bled on the floor a bit, but it ain’t nothin’ that’ll stain.” That instantly snapped Sniper from his mind, the realization that there was blood on the floor of his van nearly causing him to have a conniption fit, however, the other realization that his hand was still on Heavy’s chest killed his initial reaction instantaneously.

“Uh… Yeah, uh… Sorry… Uh… Lemme just…” Sniper managed to get out awkwardly, quickly taking his hand off Heavy, who simply gave him a nod of understanding, before simply looking ahead awkwardly. In order to avoid this situation, Sniper simply looked in the back of his van, finding that everyone had untangled themselves and was now recovering, and that Scout was trying to use the napkins left over from their lunch to clean the blood off the floor. The thought was greatly appreciated, the methodology was not.

“Scout, under the sink there’s Lysol, paper towels, and a few rags. Use those, not the greasy napkins.” Sniper said as politely as he could manage, now scanning the rest of his van for any signs of a mess, spilled drink, or further blood. “Oh, that'll be good, thanks Snipe!” Scout replied, quickly going to grab the proper supplies.

Sniper just nodded in approval, and after doing a quick lookover of his team, determining that no one else was injured, he sat properly again, and tried to find the source of the jam. Much to his relief, he found that it was simply a minor accident not too far ahead, and that they should be clear of it within fifteen minutes. He also saw a sign for an exit not too far ahead, which caused him to sheepishly pull the map up again, and determine that they had about two more exits to go.

Perfect, they could hit a rest stop and change seat positions, then not stop until they reached San Francisco.

“So… What did the deer look like?” Soldier asked sarcastically from the back, and instantly Sniper slammed the window to the back shut, and began to memorize the rest of the route they needed to take. “Was lady deer,” Heavy explained calmly, as if he’d actually seen it, “and had two little baby deer. Was cute.”
“Oh… How the hell was the deer driving a car?” Soldier asked, now completely confused, and Sniper could hear Spy facepalm through the closed panel, followed shortly by the sound of the medi-gun.

Roughly thirty minutes later, Sniper pulled into a rest stop to allow his team to stretch and relieve themselves, though there was an ulterior motive, after all, Sniper was about to drive into one of his many personal hells, and he had to choose who sat in the front with him carefully. He could go for the most comfortable choices, that being either Heavy, or Medic and Spy, but that wouldn’t be convenient, nor safe. No, no Scout would have to be in the front in order to get in and out easily in order to meet his brother, but who to put up with him?

Spy came to mind first, but at the same time Sniper wasn’t sure he trusted Spy to leave his van alone if he had to leave it for some reason. No, no Spy had a mind of his own, and the man would have no problem in making the executive decision to drive his van if need be. Medic was another good choice, but Sniper got the very distinct feeling that he could be peer pressured by Spy to drive it, or worse, let him take the wheel. No, whoever was up front with Scout had to do exactly as he said, and he had to be able to not listen to anyone else.

That’s when he realized who he would have to put up front, which was a realization that made him groan and rest his head on the wheel in some attempt to make the whole situation go away.

“Ok, here’s what’s gonna happen,” Sniper said once everyone was back from using the rest stop, “Scout, you’re gonna ride the passenger seat, Pyro, you’re gonna be between me and Scout, no questions asked.” Instantly Scout's eyes went wide with excitement, a giddy smile spreading on his face as both he and Pyro looked at each other excitedly, before they both gave an ecstatic whoop and high fived.

“That’s… certainly a choice.” Spy commented, a hint of suspicion in his voice, knowing full well that no sane person would ever put those two up front together, especially when neither man had been in the front yet. “Yeah, well it’s my choice, now load up.” Sniper ordered, nearly having an aneurysm as Scout and Pyro scrambled into his van, both of them instantly messing with the radio.

It would be ok, it would benefit Sniper in the long run, he just had to endure them for a little bit.

He was going to kill one of them.

“GIT YOUR HANDS OFF THE RADIO!!! I DID NOT SAY YOU COULD TOUCH IT!!!” Sniper shouted, and instantly both Scout and Pyro sat back and pulled their hands to themselves, but not before Pyro quickly turned off the radio. “Sorry.” Scout apologized quickly, and Sniper just groaned wearily as he got in his van, nearly slamming his door shut, but catching himself before he did so.

It would just be for a little while, just for a little while.

It would pay off in the long run.

He was going to kill one of them.

“Yo Snipe, since we ain’t allowed to touch it, why don’t you put on some tunes, huh?” Scout asked as he got himself comfortable, quickly adjusting the air vents so that all the warm air was on him. “Uh, another time, I gotta focus right now.” Sniper replied as he pulled out onto the road, mentally preparing himself for the hell ahead. “Focus on what? We ain’t even in the city yet.” Scout asked, subtly kicking at Pyro’s foot while looking out the window, who quickly made a noise of protest while quickly looking over.

Sniper simply gave him a look that explained that he wasn’t in the mood to explain himself, which merely got an eyeroll out of Scout, before he kicked Pyro’s foot again, though this time Pyro quickly kicked him back. This shenaniganry was shut down by the hardest stare Sniper could muster, once again causing the two men to sit still and pull their limbs to themselves.

“You know what, I think you’ve been driving for a long time, and that I should take over this part of the journey.” Spy very quickly exclaimed, which very quickly affirmed Snipers passenger seat choices. “Yeah, that’s funny,” Sniper replied with a slight chuckle, “you drivin’ my van, that’s hilarious.”
“I’m serious,” Spy pressed, a slight panic in his voice now, “you’ve been doing this for days, you must be exhausted, I-I really think I should be the one to drive us into San Francisco.”

“You know, I think Spy’s right, Herr Sniper,” Medic suddenly exclaimed, also sounding panicked, “perhaps you should take a break, close your eyes, relax… um, not drive in the city?”
“You’ve been hangin’ around Spy too much,” Sniper stated nonchalantly, “his humors startin’ to rub off on ya, ‘sides, where was all this concern when we were actually stopped? That woulda been the time to voice your worries, not now when we’re on the road.”
“W-we can always pull over,” Medic continued to press, definitely desperate at this point, “you don’t have to worry about Spy driving, he’ll take great care of your van.”

“Geez Louis guys, what’s the deal?” Scout asked as he looked into the back at Medic and Spy, “It’s Snipes van! He’s made it very clear that he don’t want your grubby hands on his wheel, you guys of all people should respect that! ‘Sides, Snipe’s gotten us this far, he can get us the rest of the way…Why you two look so scared?”

Some time later, Sniper gave the order to have complete silence in his van as he checked his mirrors, and he rolled down his window before entering one of his top five personal hells.

A large.

Crowded.

Busy.

City.

“GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY WAY YOU BLIND CUNT!!!!” Sniper shrieked as he blared his horn, hating how narrow the roads seemed to be, hating that there were trolleys, and hating the fact that no one knew how to drive. “WHO THE FUCK TAUGHT YOU HOW TO DRIVE?!?!? I’VE SEEN FUCKIN’ TEENAGERS DRIVE BETTER THAN YOU!!! HELL, I’VE SEEN BLOODY DINGOS DRIVE BETTER THAN YOU!!! ASIANS, WOMEN, FUCK, TEENAGERS DRIVE BETTER THAN YOU!!!”

“Uh, Snipe…” Scout tried to say, but was very quickly interrupted. “The fuck did I tell you about talkin’!!!” Sniper shouted, and instantly Scout shut up, shooting Pyro a worried look, who simply sunk deeper into his seat with a worried groan.

This was hell.

This was horrible.

This made everything feel small.

Why the city?

Why of all places did Scout’s idiot brother have to live in a city?

This sucked.

“YOU HAVE A BLINKER FOR A REASON YOU FUCKIN’ RETARD!!! USE IT!!!” Sniper shouted once again, though this time he received a middle finger from the driver in front of him before they turned. “Real classy fuckface! Real fuckin’ classy!” Sniper spat back, scanning his surroundings for a payphone, and a decent parking spot.

Stupid city, stupid city folk, stupid narrow roads.

This was hell, this was living hell.

Why did people make cities? Why did people like cities?

They smelled, they were rude, they were loud, and they were crowded.

Who’s bright idea was it to invent cities?

“Why the fuck didn’t we call your brother at the rest stop!” Sniper demanded to know, before once again slamming his horn and brakes, just barely avoiding crushing a group of hippies. “I-I tried! The phone there wasn’t workin’!” Scout promised, trying to cover his face with his hat as people began to look into the van with looks of annoyance and disgust. “Course it wasn’t! Woulda been too convenient if it was!” Sniper shot back, before finally spotting a payphone not too much further ahead, along with good parking.

Finally.

Sniper then held his breath for a moment as he made the approach, watching, waiting for someone to try and steal his spot, to try and inconvenience him again. There really should be a law that allowed people like him to shoot city folk, it would really benefit everyone, hell, it would benefit the world. He could kill everyone in cities, and make cities a thing of the past, a long-forgotten memory of bad smells, loud noises, and rude people. God, what Sniper wouldn't give to just destroy all cities.

Much to Sniper’s, and the rest of the team's personal relief, he was able to park before someone took it, or simply loitered in it because they could. Once the van was safe and sound in its new resting place, Sniper then turned to Scout and ordered, “Git out and call your brother!” Scout was very quick to listen to this, as he scrambled to unbuckle himself, practically falling out of the van as he got out and ran for the payphone.

Sniper then sighed wearily through gritted teeth, finally allowing himself to relax a little as he sat back in his seat while pulling his hat over his eyes, hating that his van was in a city, hating that at any moment some moron could come up and scratch his van, or make it filthy.

It remained quiet for a little while, Pyro staying perfectly still in his seat, Sniper trying not to kill someone, and the rest of the team presumably doing what Pyro was doing. An awkward cough sounded from Soldier, but aside from that, nothing was said for an entire minute.

That was until Spy decided he had to open his mouth.

“Do you realize how incredibly racist, and sexist you just were?” Spy exclaimed angrily, causing Sniper to release a low, irritated growl. “I mean really, was that necessary! You could’ve just insulted Pyro for all you know! He could be Asian, or -uh, she could be a woman! An Asian woman!”

“Well now, if I did, I don’t hear Pyro voicin’ no complaints,” Sniper spat back venomously, while momentarily moving his hat from his eyes, “Pyro, did I just insult you in any way?” Pyro then very quickly shook his head no, to which Sniper declared, “See? No harm, no foul, now shut your trap.”
“Unbelievable.” Spy declared for the second time that day, before once again the van went awkwardly quiet.

Again, it stayed like this for far too long, though Sniper was perfectly content with this silence, save the ambience of the city outside, that he could do without.

Eventually though, Scout did return, once again causing Sniper to lift his hat from his eyes as the young man stood awkwardly for a moment, caught in the death stare of a very unhappy Sniper. “Ignore him, now what’s going on?” Spy asked from the back.

“Uh, right ok,” Scout finally said once he got himself out of the death glare, “so, all’s good, Ima go meet with him now so we can get all the finer shit worked out, and we should have ourselves a flight to the land down under! Anyhow, ya mind comin’ with me Snipe?”

Him?

Outside his van?

In the city?

Crap.

“Why?” Sniper asked warily, something about Scout’s expression leading him to believe that something was slightly amiss. “Just so that someone on the team can meet the guy and vouch for ‘im,” Scout explained, nothing in his voice giving away any lies or fears, which assured Sniper, albeit only slightly, “I know Spy don’t trust ‘im, and I bet half the other guys have thoughts too, so I just wanna have someone who everyone trusts to say that I ain’t pullin’ shit outta my ass. I don’t wantcha for backup, I don't wantcha in case somethin’ goes wrong, cause it ain’t, I just want someone there to confirm that I ain’t a liar. Ya know, so that I don’t have to hear Spy gripin’ about it.”

“... Fair enough.” Sniper acknowledged, unbuckling himself as he fixed his hat, then reaching over to his glove box and removing a small pistol from it, just in case something did go wrong. While he would’ve loved to bring his SMG, it would be far too conspicuous, so his emergency gun would have to do. Once Sniper had himself situated properly, he then turned his attention to Pyro, who continued to sit perfectly still. This was he was in the front, to guard it, to protect it, and to keep Spy away from it.

“Ya know what that means, Pyro?” Sniper asked in a very, very serious tone, “It means you, and you alone will be sittin’ in the front of my van. Ya know what else that means? It means that you’re not gonna move from this seat, or touch anything, or mess with anything. If anyone from the back tries to come up front, you will stop them from comin’ up front. If Spy tries to pull the ‘I’m the leader card’, just remember, this is my van, and as long as everyone is in my van, I make the final call, and my final call is this: No one is allowed up here, other than you, until I come back, and you are not to touch anything that doesn’t belong to you. If they try and force their way up, push ‘em back. You are actin’ as me in my absence. Do you understand what I’m sayin’, Pyro?”

Pyro was still for a moment, before he gave an affirmative noise along with a firm nod of his head. “Are you certain you understand?” Sniper pressed, “Because if I come back, and there is someone else up here, or something has been messed with, I will kill you.” Pyro then nodded much more frantically, clearly completely understanding what was at stake.

“Good lad.” Sniper said as he gave Pyro a pat on the shoulder, before he reluctantly got out of his van. If there was one thing he could appreciate about being in San Francisco, it was that it was actually decently warm, at least compared to the winter they’d had back at their base. That, and the smell of the ocean nearby brought a bit of comfort as well, though why that was, he wasn’t entirely certain. Other than that, being in the city sucked.

Before he left with Scout though, Sniper paused, then opened the door to his van and said, “One last thing mate, if someone tries to harass you from the outside, ignore ‘em, if they’re persistent, get Heavy to kick their ass, got it?” Again, Pyro nodded in agreement, leaving Sniper with no choice other than to finally leave his van in Pyro’s… perfectly capable hands.

He hated it.

He hated walking in the city.

He hated how loud everything was.

How crowded everything was.

How absolutely filthy everything was.

How there were hippies everywhere.

It sucked.

It was hell.

“Ya know, I really missed bein’ in the city,” Scout commented as they walked, clearly having the time of his life, oblivious to how Sniper walked rigidly with his eyes glued to the ground, “country’s nice’n all, but this? This is where it’s at. The atmosphere, the people, fuck, all the awesome smells! Makes me miss home, ya know? Ya just can’t beat it! Ya know what I could go for right now? I could go for a hotdog right now. I know I just ate, but this is really makin’ me crave a hotdog for some reason, ya know what I’m sayin’?”

“Shut up… Please, shut up…” Sniper asked as politely as he could, hating everything, and feeling so incredibly small. “Huh? Yo, you ok dude?” Scout asked when he finally noticed his friend's ridgid state. “No… I ain’t… Dunno why, just ain’t…” Sniper replied, not wanting to be mad at Scout, but just not knowing what to do with himself. “Crap, I always forget that you suck in spots like this,” Scout stated sympathetically, still walking forward along with Sniper, “ya want some water, or uh, maybe some beer? Water usually helps the doc, right? Uh… crap, I’d offer a cig, but I don’t smoke. You shoulda grabbed one from Spy before ya left.”

“Probably right.” Sniper admitted, now definitely wishing he had one. “Hey, I got some gum on me, ya want some gum?”
“Uh, thanks, but uh, I don’t like the way it tastes after only five minutes of chewin’. I used to be into it when I was younger, but then one day it just started tastin’ gross.”
“Feel that, I was the same way with blueberries, used to be fuckin’ obsessed with ‘em, was one’a the only things I ate when I was little, but then one day, I just hated ‘em. Refused to eat ‘em after that, still kinda don’t like ‘em, well, by themselves anyway, I like ‘em in other stuff, ya know, smoothies, muffins, pancakes, shit like that, but a raw blueberry? Yeah, no thanks, not my jam. Speakin’ of pancakes, I’d kill for some good pancakes right now.”

It continued like this for a long time, Scout simply rambling on and on about whatever subject happened to pop into his mind, all while Sniper simply listened, finding himself relaxing despite having despised Scout's incessant talking hardly two minutes ago. It helped him block out everything else around him, giving him something to focus on other than how much he hated being in that environment.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad… well, it was bad, it was really, really bad, but this… this helped be a little less bad.

Eventually though, the city gradually got quieter and quieter, the population around them shrinking, and things appeared to be opening up again as they got away from the more urban areas. It helped Sniper to breathe, to relax in this new place. While he didn’t know where they were going, Scout certainly did, and he trusted Scout. Despite how annoying he was, as well as immature, he’d never put the team in harm's way before, and so far he had a good record of not trusting shady people, so that meant something.

Although, a question did start to make its way into Sniper's mind, just a small one at first, but it most definitely began to get bigger and bigger as time passed.

Who exactly was Scout's brother, and what kind of work did he do that allowed him to fly a plane big enough to transport his van?

He managed to keep this thought in the back of his mind for a long time, until Scout led them to the piers, and eventually to a large warehouse, all while still talking about everything and nothing. Something about the environment, quiet and peaceful though it was, just didn't sit right with Sniper, something felt oddly off, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what. Odd as it was to say, he’d felt better when he’d been deeper in the city, he’d certainly been uncomfortable, but this was different, this was unease. Suddenly, Scout’s constant talking started to worry him, for the closer he listened, the more aware he became of just how nervous Scout was starting to sound.

That wasn’t right.

That wasn’t right, at all.

“And here we are! Wow, that did not take as long as I thought it was gonna.” Scout declared as they stood outside the old warehouse, one that looked like it hadn’t been touched in a long time. “Don’t worry, he don't live ‘ere, we’re just meetin’ ‘ere, ya know… t’keep things on the down low.”
“... Uh huh… Right…”
“Now, we’s a bit early, so I say we just wait for Al to show up, I think we beat ‘im by about ten or so minutes.”
“Alright… Well, why don’t we just head in then, that way no one spots us loitering.”
“Good idea Snipe, let’s do that.”

Shortly after entering the old warehouse, the two men stood in relative silence, Scout fidgeting with everything and anything on his person, all while Sniper stood still, looking for quick exits, potential surprise entry points, or just any area that looked like it could hide danger. Something wasn’t adding up, and the more Scout fidgeted, the more nervous Sniper became.

“So… Scout… What’s your brother do for work anyhow?” Sniper asked as nonchalantly as possible, trying not to sound suspicious or nervous. “Whaddya mean?” Scout asked, pausing his fidgeting to give his attention to Sniper. “Ya know… what’s he do for work? What’s his job?” Sniper pressed, taking note of how Scout began to fidget again while looking anywhere but him.

“I told ya, he’s a pilot.”
“Uh huh… what kinda pilot?”
“How do ya mean?”
“Ya know… what’s he fly? Who’s he fly for? What kinda pilot?”
“Oh, uh, ya know, he flies all sorts of stuff, big stuff, little stuff… planes.”
“Ok, Ok… who’s he work for?”

At that question, Scout gave a quick shrug, now bouncing the tip of his shoe against the floor while shoving his hands into his pockets. “Ya know… folk… Big folk… It’s a good job… Pays well…” Scout replied absentmindedly, and all of Sniper's trust in his friend went out the window.

“Scout… who’s your brother work for?”
“Told ya, big folk, it ain’t important, if it was, I woulda told ya.”
“Scout, who does your brother work for? Why ya being so jumpy right now?”
“Jumpy? Who’s jumpy? I ain’t jumpy, you’re makin’ things up man. It’s all cool right now.”
“Scout. What ain’t you tellin’ me right now?”
“Whaddya talkin’ ‘bout? I ain’t hidin’ shit. Why would I be hidin’ shit? That’s bogus man, I thought ya had more faith in me, but no, I see how-”
“Scout. What. Aren’t. You. Sayin’?”

Finally, Scout stopped moving, pursed his lips, and took a deep breath in and held it, finally turning his eyes to meet Snipers, nothing about him looking even remotely like he was in control of the situation. It was then that Sniper had the very distinct feeling that either Scout’s brother hated his guts, or that he was a part of some international mafia and he was about to get royally screwed over.

“Sniper.” Scout said flatly, clearly trying to regain some slight bit of trust. “Scout.” Sniper said back, his anger starting to show in his tone. “Sniper.” Scout stated in a much more casual tone, his body relaxing, though his eyes most certainly didn’t. “Scout.” Sniper seethed out through barely gritted teeth, suddenly wishing that Spy was there instead of him.

“Sniper… You know that I would never hurt this team, right?”
“What did you do?”
“You know that I, despite popular belief, am actually an intelligent man, and that I do know what I am doing more often than not.”
“Scout, who’s your brother work for?”
“You trust me, right? C’mon Snipe, you trust me, dontcha?”
“Scout, I’m trustin’ you less and less with every passin’ second, now please, tell me, who does your brother work for?”
“... You gotta promise you ain’t gonna kill me.”
“I ain’t promisin’ shit, now answer the fuckin’ question!”

It was then that Scout began to fidget again, nodding to himself and swallowing nervously, before once again taking in a deep breath, and exhaling it slowly. Then, he turned to Sniper, and with a very cautious, very assuring, very nervous voice, he explained, “Well… ya see… My brother Al… He’s a good guy, real good guy, and I trust ‘im with my life, and I’d never call ‘im up if I didn’t trust him… however… Oh God how do I put this… Ya see… My brother Albert… He’s… He’s a very, very… proud member… of… of the US Air Force.”

Air Force?

US?

Air Force?

US Air Force?

“Now- now I know that sounds bad,” Scout continued quickly, all while Snipers mind tried to wrap itself around what it’d just heard, “and I know what you’re thinkin’, but Snipe, I swear to God, everythin’s gonna be fine, and we can trust ‘im.”

“... Scout… your brother works for the fuckin’ government?” Sniper hissed out, his entire body now hot with fury, fear, and complete and total disbelief. “What? No, no he don’t work for the government, he’s just in the military.” Scout replied with a hint of confusion, which caused Sniper to snap.

“Scout… Scout, who does the military answer to?”
“Uh, the government?”
“Yeah, yeah you’re right Scout, and-and correct me if I’m wrong, but you just said that your brother’s in the military, right?”
“Snipe, I don’t like the way you’re lookin’ at me right now, ya-ya gotta trust me man.”
“Who’s huntin’ us right now? Who’s tryin’ to kill us right now, Scout? Who’re we tryin’ to avoid right now, Scout?”
“Uh, th-the government, but Snipe-”
“THAT’S RIGHT!!! WE’RE TRYIN’ TO AVOID THE FUCKIN’ GOVERNMENT!!! AND YOU JUST BROUGHT US TO YOUR BROTHER, WHO WORKS FOR ‘EM!!!”

“Hey, hey calm down, alright? I didn’t do nothin’, I trust him, he ain’t gona hurt us.” Scout shot back, his tone becoming steadier, his confidence rising. “Scout, Scout you fucking idiot!” Sniper shouted in disbelief, “Your brother works for the people who are tryin’ to kill us, and you fuckin’ trust him!?! When you called ‘im, you had to call ‘im three fuckin’ times before he actually picked up, and you think he actually cares about you!!!
“He does! Snipe, I swear to God, I swear on my Ma’s name, I swear on everything that is true and good in the world, I did not just fuck us over!”

“Jesus fucking Christ! How dumb are you! Don’t you see what’s happening!?! You’re brother, who doesn’t give a rat's ass about you, is probably on his way here right now, with all his military friends, and you wanna know what he’s sayin’ to ‘em? He’s probably sayin’, ‘I cannot believe my dumbass brother actually thought that his military brother was gonna help his mercenary ass, along with the rest of his no good friends!’ You think he’s gonna get a promotion for turnin’ you in? Pay raise maybe?

“Did you ever consider that maybe, just maybe, he was just usin’ you for his own benefit? That he saw you as an easy target, a way to get a quick thrill before he stabbed you in the fuckin’ back? Why on earth would he actually want to help us, when his job dictates he needs to kill us! Jesus, how retarded are you!!!”

“Hey! Nobody talks to my brother like that except me down unda! Now why don’t you come ‘ere and see what I’m really made of, ya psychotic string bean!”

The voice was coming from behind them, a voice that was slightly deeper than Scout’s, with a lot of power behind it, along with a very thick Boston accent.

Did any of this really redjuster with Sniper? No, no, instead his first instinct was to pull out the pistol he’d grabbed from his van, spin around, and point it at the man known as Scout’s older pilot brother, whom we shall call Albert.

To say that he wasn’t what Sniper was expecting to see would be an understatement, and it took him a rather long moment to remember that Albert and Scout were half brothers, and that Spy had not in fact created eight children with Charlotte. The man before him looked latino, his skin a deep brown, his hair jet black with traces of silver running through it, while standing slightly shorter than Scout by about two inches. The odd feature out was his intense eyes, which were a sky blue, just like his mothers.

His hair was short and neatly kept, just as one would expect a military officer’s to be, and the only facial hair he sported was a pencil mustache, though it was only just thin enough to be considered that. The attire he currently had on was nothing noteworthy, simple civilian clothes, though an air force bomber jacket gave away his occupation immediately.

As soon as Sniper had reached for his gun, Albert very quickly followed suit, pulling his own pistol and aiming it just as quickly, leaving the two in a standoff, neither one firing, yet neither one flinching away. What worried Sniper the most about this situation was the fact that when he looked into Alberts eyes, he didn’t see a reluctant soldier simply wanting to keep the peace, what he saw was a man who wasn’t afraid to kill. If he looked really close, he saw a man who had killed before.

“Hey, whoawhoawhoawhoawhoawhoawhoa, backup, backup, backup, backup! Put the gun down Snipe, Al, Al put the gun down! Gun’s down guys, gun’s down!” Scout quickly shouted, not daring to step in between the line of fire, instead choosing to step forward so that both men could see him clearly. “Guys, guys, ya gotta calm down, ya guys gotta calm down! We’re all friends ‘ere, put the guns down!”

“Who the fuck is this guy, and why’s he callin’ you retarted!” Albert demanded to know, most certainly sounding furious, but the kind of furious that was well checked, and not out of control whatsoever, every word he said being well meant. “He’s my pal! He-he’s my friend, please don’t kill ‘im! Please don’t kill ‘im Al, we-we was just hashin’ out some stuff, honest!” Scout quickly explained, his panic starting to overtake him when neither man put their gun down.

“Ya didn’t say you were bringin’ a friend Jerry!” Albert shot back, still keeping his eyes glued onto Snipers, which was starting to make the man just a bit uncomfortable, now definitely wishing that Spy was here instead of him. “I know, I know, it was a last minute decision!” Scout continued to explain frantically, desperately looking between Albert and Sniper, hoping that neither one was feeling trigger happy. “I didn't mean to jump scare ya, honest I didn't! Snipe, Snipe please, please put the gun down!”

“Not a chance in fuckin’ hell.” Sniper spat back through gritted teeth, waiting for gunfire to erupt from somewhere else, waiting for a trap to be sprung, waiting for all hell to break loose. This wasn’t right, they were going to die here, or get captured, all because Scout thought his brother actually cared about him, and the rest of his criminal friends. Men like Albert were better than them, they had duties, loyalties to something other than cash and makeshift families, they had true and honest purpose, men like him and Scout didn’t. How Scout didn’t know this yet was beyond him, but all the same, he was about to find out the hard way.

“Oh Jesus Christ Sniper, dontcha trust me!” Scout shouted desperately, now watching as Alberts grip on his gun tightened while he shifted his stance. “Trust you! Why the fuck should I trust you!” Sniper shouted in disbelief, “You just led us to our fuckin’ deaths, all because you couldn’t think past the convenience of a quick flight!”

It was at that comment that Alberts stern and concentrated gaze broke, his attention now fully turned to Scout, who was still trying, and failing, to de-escalate the situation. “I did not!” Scout shouted back, “I would never do that! I trust my brother, so should you! When have I ever done us wrong!?!”

“Jerry… Did you tell your friends I was in the military?” Albert asked very calmly, yet very sternly, talking to Scout like a parent would to their child, instantly causing Sniper to relax now that the attention was off him. “Uh… No, no I did not,” Scout admitted hesitantly, “I was gonna, but not until I got everythin’ sorted out, and not until everything was final, cause if they knew, they never would’ve agreed to this… Tactical thinkin’, ya know?”

Silence followed Scout's admission, terrible, awkward, deafening silence.

Thankfully for everyone involved, this lasted less than five seconds.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Albert exclaimed in absolute disbelief, his firm stance going slack as his arms fell to his sides, “No wonder your friends havin’ a panic attack! He probably thinks I’m tryin’ to kill ‘im! Why the fuck woudln’t you tell ‘em who I am!?!? You tryin’ to get someone shot??? Ok, okokokok, you, pal, put the gun down, there’s been some miscommunication- no, nonononono, not miscommunication, lack of communication, there’s been some major lack of communication, which has caused us to get off on the wrong foot.”

Sniper didn’t move, both perplexed with how relaxed Albert had just become, and still unsure as to what exactly was going on. “Fuckin’ hell,” Albert seethed out, “I ain’t gonna hurtcha, ok? Here, here lemme help ya out.” With that, Albert tossed his gun to the ground, letting it slide halfway between the two of them. “See? Ain’t gonna hurtcha. I didn't bring no friends, I didn’t lay some trap, I didn’t do any of the stuff you’d expect a guy like me to do, ok? We’re cool, now, can we start over? Can we get ourselves some proper introductions?”

His voice no longer carried the aggression and anger it once had, all of that leaving him as soon as the gun had hit the ground. Albert now sounded calm, reassuring, not a hint of sarcasm or annoyance about him, just a genuine desire to make amends. That really caught Sniper off guard, and despite himself, he did lower his gun, though he most certainly didn’t relax, not yet anyway.

“There, see? We’re all good,” Albert assured patiently, then turned to Scout and shouted in bewilderment, “now what the actual fuck were you thinkin?”
“Uh, lemme see, that no one would listen to me if I told ‘em what your job was?” Scout replied with potent sarcasm, though he instantly backed off when Albert gave him a hard stare that could rival Spy’s. “Congratulations Jerry, you’ve officially made my opinion of you lower, even I didn’t know that was possible. Truly, you are an expert at lowering expectations.”

“Man, shut up!” Scout shot back, “I was lookin’ out for my team, ok? And if it were up to them, we’d be waitin’ for my boss to find us a flight, and no offense to her, but that could take literal months, and we don’t got that kinda time.”
“That’s another thing! I still don’t even know what’s goin’ on! You called my me outta nowhere to ask if I could fly you, your pals, and a freaking camper van, all the way to freakin’ Australia, and I don’t even have a fuckin’ explanation! We’re here to talk about that, remember? Not freakin’ jumpscare me with… fuck man, I never got your name, what’s your name pal?”

“Uh… Sniper… ain’t my real name, but uh… yeah I uh, I don’t use it… none of us do…” Sniper explained with some hesitation, actually a bit self conscious about using his alias outside of work, knowing how stupid it probably sounded. “Ok, ok,” Albert replied nonchalantly, “kinda like callsigns, right? What’m I sayin’, you probably dunno what that is. Anyhow, I’m Albert, but Jerry here probably only ever referred to me as Al, cause he don’t know how to do a freakin’ introduction.”
“Heh, somethin’ like that, mostly ever referred to you as his pilot brother.”
“Yeah, that tracks, probably cause he ain’t know much else about me… not that he ever bothered to ask.”

“Um, I’m standing right here.” Scout stated with great offense, which got little more than an irked scoff from Albert while he grabbed a cigarette and lit it, and an awkward glance from Sniper. “Yeah, yeah I see ya,” Albert acknowledged, “but as you can see, I’m allowed to talk to people other than you, especially after they’ve been screwed over by you.”
“I didn’t screw anyone over! I just chose to leave out some details that woulda compromised this whole thing!”
“Yeah, and you leavin’ out those details almost got one of us freakin’ killed, Jerry!”
“Dude, woulda stop callin’ me Jerry? We’re in front of my coworker right now, I don’t need ya callin’ me fuckin’ Jerry!”

Albert simply took a long drag of his now lit cigarette, giving Scout a look only an older brother could give, then exhaled the smoke calmly, though his expression showed anything but calmness. “Who’s ass did you call to bail you out?!?” ALbert demanded to know, sounding downright furious. “Your ass.” Scout admitted sheepishly, his once bold and defiant mood melting away into nothing. “Who’s ass nearly got us all killed cause he couldn’t be bothered to give everyone the right details?!?”
“My ass.”
“Who’s ass are you suddenly callin’ for favors after five fuckin’ years of no contact?!?”
“Your ass.”
“Who’s the bigger brother here?!?”
“You are.”

“That’s right, and you know what that means?”
“It means you get to call me Jer-”
“It means I get to call you fuckin’ Jerry!”

Despite himself, Sniper couldn’t help but let a quick laugh escape him, though he quickly shut it down when Scout gave him a death glare.

“Now, back to business,” Albert said after taking another drag of his cigarette, though he paused for a moment, then looked at Scout and Sniper and asked, “would either of you like one’a these?”
“I’m good, thanks Al.”
“Uh… Ya know what, I would love one right now, thanks.”

Once everyone who wanted to smoke was smoking, Albert turned his attention back to Scout and said, “Now, Jerry, please, for the love of all that’s good and holy, explain to me what the fuck is goin’ on, and don’t say ya already did on the phone, cause what you gave me was a synopsis, and not an explanation. I need details, I need names, I need locations, and I need reasons, not just ‘we need to get to Australia ‘cause my boss is tryin’ to save the world’, that ain’t gonna cut it. Actually, ya know what, I’m glad ya brought a friend, I really am, that way I got someone who can tell me if you’re lyin’, or leavin’ shit out, like ya just did.”

“Wh-what the- I’m you’re freakin’ brother! I would never lie to you!” Scout cried out, actually looking hurt, actually looking like a dagger had been plunged into his heart. “How the fuck am I supposed to know that!” Albert snapped back, “I haven’t spoken to you in five years! FIVE YEARS, JERRY! The only reason I know you’re even alive is because Ma gives me updates whenever she hears from you! Speakin’ of which, when was the last time you even talked to Ma?!?!”
“Easy! I talked to her… No, no I meant to call her then, but then I got to talkin’ with Snipe… It was… No, no not then either… It was about… uh… wait no, it wasn’t then either… uh oh…”

“Jerry, Ma say’s she hasn’t talked to you in six freakin’ months! Six! Freakin’! Months! Now, if you was like Logan, and you was out to sea for God knows how long, I could excuse it, but I know you got access to a phone, and I know you ain’t been in trouble longer than a week yet!”

Who Logan was, or why he was relevant to the discussion, was beyond Sniper, but he simply assumed he was another brother, and went back to trying to figure out if this was a progressive conversation, or a slow descent into some kind of trap.

“I-I-I didn't mean for it to go so long! Honest!” Scout promised desperately, looking guiltier with every passing second, “I just lost track’a time! I promise I meant to keep up with ‘er more, I-I didn’t mean to have it go so long, I just… I… Fuck man, I dunno what happened, I just didin’t think it’d been so long! I swear I ain’t tryin’ to get away from you guys! I love ya, honest!”

“Really? Ya sure?” Albert asked skeptically, “Cause it don’t feel that way, it feels to me like if you didn’t need my help, I wouldn’ta heard from you for the rest of my life. That’s what I’m thinkin’ right now, but hey, whaddo I know?”
“C’mon man, I didn’t mean to do ya dirty like that,” Scout promised remorsefully, “I ain’t… I ain’t like Tommy man, I ain’t that kinda asshole! I just… Dude, I didn’t mean to blow you off, I didn’t mean to blow any of ya off, I just… I know I ain’t a clean guy, and I know Ma ain’t too pleased about my job… or my criminal record… or how I turned out in general…”

“That don’t mean she don’t love you!” Albert exclaimed, “It just means she worries more! She woulda takin’ Tommy back in a fuckin’ heartbeat, hell I bet she still would, but he made his choices, just like you’re makin’ your choices! Jerry, when we don’t hear from you, that gives us the message that you don’t give a fuck, and given your current job, it wouldn’t surprise me, or anyone else, if one day you just decided to fall of the face of the planet! Fuck man, when was the last time you talked to any of us!!!”

“... I talked to Quincy…” Scout admitted while still looking at the floor, now holding his dog tags and flipping them around in his hand. With those four words, Alberts mood shifted entirely, his harsh stance softening, along with his angered expression. Silence followed, and again Sniper was left wondering why that name held importance, why by saying that name Scout had managed to completely shift the direction of the conversation, and why Albert suddenly looked willing to hear out his younger brother.

“You… You talked to Quincy?” Albert asked, clearly bewildered, “You haven’t… When did you talk to Quincy?”
“Some weeks ago…” Scout explained quietly, still messing with his dog tags, “I uh… I was doin’ some thinkin’... then I really got to thinkin’... then I figured I needed to clear things up with ‘im… Ya know, apologize for being an ass to ‘im for so many years… So… That’s what I did.”

“You? Jeremy Willis? You actually owned up and apologized to Quincy?” Albert asked again, his voice mixed with pride, and shock. “Yeah… Yeah I did… Actually had a really good conversation, ya know? I mean, it was like I was talkin’ to him for the first time since… since he came out… Look, Al… I know… I know I ain’t the best brother, I know I ain’t the best son, and I know I suck at keepin’ in touch… but I do care for our family, and I… I’m sorry for just callin’ you up for a favor, that was an asshole move on my part, but… dude, I didn’t know who else to turn to, and I… I wanted to help my friends… cause… cause they’re kinda like a second family to me… ya know?”

Albert simply stared at Scout for a long time, quietly judging his character while he smoked, trying to figure out who he really was, and if he really meant all that he’d said, after all, the two men hadn’t seen each other in five years. As this happened, Scout continued to fidget with his dog tags, still keeping his gaze fixed to the floor, all his previous confidence, ego, and flare most definitely gone now. It was strange for Sniper to see him this quiet, having only seen him this way once before, back when Medic had been captured, and while he was comatose. Those had been a rough two days, but he had bounced back quickly, such was his personality.

This though… This seemed different. This was deeply personal, this was him well and truly apologizing for something he had done, or what he hadn’t done. It made Sniper happy to see he wasn’t repeating the sins of his father, and that unlike Spy, he actually had the nerve to own up to his mistakes without being pushed to it. Granted, the circumstances that lead to this moment were not ideal, but if he’d made amends with his brother Quincy without being shoved to it, than that really showed his character, as well as where his loyalties lied.

“Jerry… Jerry, could ya look at me, please?” Albert asked gently, once again sounding like a parent, though Scout did lift his gaze, that once unsure part of him now looking a bit more certain. “Dude… That was a good thing ya did, a real good thing, and I know that meant a lot to Quin.”
“Yeah, yeah I know… Man, we talked for freakin’ hours, like… it was good, ya know?”
“Yeah, yeah… Jerry, I don’t mean to be a hardass to ya, I don't mean to be a dick to ya, I don’t mean to be… to be judgin’ what you do with your life, or what ya don’t do… it’s just hard not to. You’re my littlest brother, that means somethin’ to me, and dude, I worry about you, a lot, so when I don’t hear from ya for years… I dunno what to think.”

“Al… I’m sorry, I’m sorry I fell outta contact with ya,” Scout apologized, meaning it most sincerely, “I just didn’t think a guy like you wanted much to do with a guy like me.”
“Oh c’mon! That’s bullshit and you know it! Just cause you’re a criminal, doesn’t mean that you’re not my brother! I know that Tommy set a bad example, but he cut himself off, we didn’t do that to ‘im! Jesus Christ, is that why you haven’t been talkin’ to me? Or anyone else???”

“Uh… yeah? I kinda figured you all thought I was… ya know, scum? Aside from Ma of course, and again, I did not mean to go that long without talkin’ to her.”

“Jerry, did I ever call you scum?” Albert asked gravely, a sudden look of concern and horror now present in his expression, and finally, finally, Sniper relaxed, for he knew that this man well and truly cared about Scout, and that there was no trap waiting for them.

“Uh, no? Ya called Tommy scum, and I know I kinda fell in with that kinda work, so I figured that meant I was scum, and that-”
“Jerry.” Albert interrupted, now exhaling smoke with a relieved sigh, his tense body finally relaxing. “Yeah?” Scout asked, a bit confused as to what his brother was trying to get at. “You’re a smart man, an incredibly smart man… I know a lotta people say otherwise, but you do have a brain in your head… a good one too… If I never told you that you were scum, why the fuck did you think I thought of you as scum! Yeah, yeah I called Tommy scum, because he is scum! You are not scum! I don’t care that ya got a bad record, ya got a good heart, that’s all that matters to me! When have I ever treated you like you were scum!?!?”

“Uh… Well I kinda figured that… Since… uh… Oh c’mon man! Now you’re makin’ me look stupid!” Scout cried out in dismay, and Albert just facepalmed while letting a weary groan escape him, before he approached Scout and embraced him, holding him close as Scout returned his embrace, for once keeping quiet and simply appreciating the moment. That made Sniper feel warm inside, being able to see Scour reconnect with his family after so long, and it nearly made him forget about how angry he was at him.

Nearly.

“Jerry, I love you, and that ain’t ever gonna change,” Albert promised, all while Scout gave a shaky sigh and held onto him tighter, “you’re my brother man, and you ain’t ever done nohtin’ to hurt this family, not intentionally. You ain’t scum, you ain’t retarded, and you sure as hell ain’t like Tommy. You’re a good man Jerry, and I’m sorry if I ever made ya feel otherwise.”

“Ya never did Al, promise,” Scout assured quietly, “me and my big brain, huh?”
“Heh, somethin’ like that… Man, I missed you, life’s a lot quieter when you ain’t in it.”
“Shut up!”
“Alright, alright,” Albert chuckled as he let go, before glancing at the dog tags Scout wore, his eyes going wide with surprise.

“You still got my freakin’ dog tags dude?” he exclaimed with joyous surprise, quickly taking them in his hands as he felt them over with care, a smile now spreading over his face. “Yeah, they make me look hella macho, right?” Scout stated with an arrogant grin, which promptly got him a punch in the shoulder. “That ain’t why you still have ‘em and you know it ya dumb fuck! Anyhow, enough of this sappy shit, I can feel my masculinity droppin’, why don’t we talk about what we came ‘ere to talk about, huh? Explain to me what exactly’s goin’ on right now, and what kinda pickle you got yourself in.”

Chapter Text

The conversation between Scout and Albert had been surprisingly productive and efficient, and within an hour a plan had been formed that seemed to be at least halfway feasible to pull off. That plan was as follows: The Red team would meet Albert outside an airbase at around 11am the following morning, where they would sneak Snipers van onto a C-5A Galaxy, along with other unrelated supplies and cargo, under the guise that it was headed to Vietnam for a ‘secret mission for the FBI’. Albert assured Scout and Sniper that he had the rank to pull it off, so long as no one from really high up in command found out about it. Then, they’d fly to Hawaii for a refuel, then continue on to Australia before parting ways.

That seemed fairly reasonable to those involved in the conversation, and so long as Albert could keep everything on the down low, they would have no problem in loading the van, or leaving the US. Really, it almost seemed too good to be true, and that maybe, just maybe, their luck was finally turning around. However, there was one part of this plan that scared the ever loving crap out of Scout and Sniper, one part that could very well jeopardize everything.

That being, they had to tell Spy, and somehow have him agree to it.

***

When Scout and Sniper had returned from their meeting with Scout’s pilot brother, Spy hadn’t been quite sure as to what he should be expecting. Sure, he’d figured that there was something he wasn’t being told, that Scout had left out some important detail as to who his brother was, and why he was able to fly a plane big enough to carry a camper van all the way to Australia, but that was all, nothing grand, nothing life changing, just a bit of hidden information.

He’d wanted to trust the young man, he’d wanted to have faith in his ability to use reason, logic, and basic common sense, so he’d let him go with a great deal of apprehension, but he’d let him go nonetheless. Besides, he himself was guilty of holding off details until a more convenient time came, so perhaps there wasn’t anything that major to worry about, and he was once again letting his own lack of trust get the better of him.

Now here he was, standing in the back of Sniper's van with the rest of his team, trying to wrap his head around how… out of control the situation had just become.

“Let me make sure I have this… perfectly clear.” Spy seethed out through gritted teeth, a cigarette lit between his teeth while he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You told us that your brother was a pilot, and that he would be able to fly us to Australia… However, it turns out your brother is actually an officer of the US Air Force whom you haven’t spoken to in five years… And you actually trust him to fulfill his promise to take us to Australia, and not simply turn us over to the government the first chance he gets?”

“Yep, trust ‘im with my life.” Scout promised confidently, nothing about him hesitant, uncertain, or worried. Of course, to Spy that only further cemented the idea that Scout was an absolute idiot, and that he truly had no ability to see beyond the convenience of a quick flight.

“Are you insane!” Spy snapped, removing his hand from his face so that he could give Scout his full and proper attention, though much to his own surprise, Scout didn’t back down, instead only appearing to grow firmer in his stance. “Why the actual hell would your brother, who you have stated works for the government, actually agree to help us!”
“Uh, first off, he don’t work for the government,” Scout corrected pointedly, instantly causing Spy’s temper to flare, “he’s just in the military. Second off, he’s my brother, and yeah, I wasn’t so honest about our relationship status, that’s on me, and I’m sorry, but, and this is a very big but, he’s my brother above all else, and he’d never do somethin’ that scummy.”

“Oh, oh you’re right! You’re absolutely right!” Spy declared with a mockingly apologetic tone, “Why on earth would your brother, whom you aren’t even fully related to, ever betray you for the government he’s been working for, for God knows how many years! You’re right, I should trust the man whom you haven’t spoken to in five years, and who is quite literally working for the people who are trying to kill us! Why on earth would I ever doubt you, and your ability to use reason and logic!”

“Cause Ima part of this team too, and I’d never put us in harm’s way, that’s why!” Scout shot back, which merely got a disbelieving scoff and eye roll from Spy. This was what he got for trusting Scout, this was exactly what he got for actually thinking this idiot could lead them to Australia. They’d just been led right into a trap, and it wasn’t even an elaborate one, it was a trap that anyone else would see coming a mile away, but not Scout, never Scout. That moron, that absolute moron truly believed that because they shared the same mother, that no matter what happened they’d be loyal to one another.

What an absolutely simplistic way of thinking, what an absolute moronic state of mind to live in. To trust in blood, to trust in the fact that they had shared a womb, to trust the fact that they’d been raised under the same roof, to trust in the belief that those three facts somehow cemented the fact that their relationship would never falter. Spy had seen brothers kill each other for mere coins, betray each other for a woman's glance, curse each other for a parent's favor, and this… this fool actually thought his own brother cared for him.

What an absolute idiot.

“If it makes ya feel any better, I trust ‘im.” Sniper stated calmly, speaking just as Spy had opened his mouth to continue his verbal destruction of Scout. Now caught off guard, Spy wasn’t sure he knew what to say, simply staring at Sniper in disbelief, as well as complete disappointment. He of all people should understand why Scout’s brother wasn’t to be trusted, he of all people should understand how easy it was to fool another, so why the hell was he actually vouching for a man who worked for the US government?

“Yeah, yeah ya see? Snipe trusts ‘im, and Snipe don’t trust anyone!” Scout exclaimed, a joyous smile spreading now that he was actually being backed up, “Spy, I’m tellin’ ya, Al’s a good guy, and I know this situation seems suspicious as hell, and I know ya got every right to be skeptical, but I promise ya, he would never do me wrong, honest he wouldn’t.”

Sniper trusted someone he just met? Sniper actually trusted someone he met for the first time? No, no that couldn’t be right, it took him a full three months to have Sniper trust him when they first became a team, and now he was trusting strangers who he had no business trusting? That wasn’t right, that wasn’t like Sniper at all, what the hell had happened?

“You? You actually trust those two imbeciles?” Spy asked, and while Sniper certainly became a bit more stiff, he didn’t drop his eyes. “I do,” Sniper confirmed, “Albert’s a smart guy, and he’s loyal to his kin. Plus, Scout ‘ere was actually able to hold a progressive conversation with ‘im that led to a better standing between ‘em, so, yeah, I trust ‘im… I trust the both of ‘em, actually.”

Had he gone braindead? Was he actually saying that because the two men were kin, that that meant something in this situation? Had he not seen what the old engineer had been willing to do to Engineer? Had he not learned anything from the disaster that was the Conagher family?

“I get that you have your thoughts on this, I respect that,” Sniper continued patiently, though Spy was hardly listening, “and… and I know that this whole thing seems sketchy, real sketchy, but I do believe that he’s gonna help us… and uh, and yeah… could ya stop lookin’ at me like I grew another head? I promise ya, I ain’t crazy!”

Before he could think about what he was saying, before he realized that the thought had even formed in his head, Spy looked Sniper dead in the eyes, and asked in a completely demeaning tone, “Need I remind you of your excellent record of trusting less than reliable individuals?”

In an instant Sniper's eyes went wide, deep pain and anger shining through them as he went completely ridged, though other than that nothing changed about him, not physically anyway. Spy regretted those words the second they left his mouth, knowing that he’d crossed a line, knowing that he had no right to stab so deep, knowing that he never should’ve even alluded to the Blu Spy in front of the team, but it was too late to take it back.

The first thing he wanted to do was apologize, but he didn’t dare, not with everyone else around, that could cause questions to be asked, and he wouldn’t put Sniper in such a position, not more than he already had anyway. Still, the look on his face was enough to show he was sorry, even if he hadn’t meant to show it at that moment, though Spy was quick to simply regain his normal composure, hoping that no one would ask about what had just happened.

Despite wanting to look around at his team, he kept his eyes on Sniper and Scout, hoping not to raise any further suspicions or questions.

As expected though, Scout was quick to look between the two men, recognizing that something had just happened, and that Sniper's character had just been put into question. However, much to Spy’s personal surprise, when Scout did open his mouth, he paused, thought for a moment, then looked at Spy and stated, “Ya know what? It don’t matter, if Snipe wanted to make a stink outta it, he woulda, but clearly this ain’t my business, and he don’t wanna talk about it, so, nice move asshole, way to stab a guy in the back, but hey, you’re good at that, aintcha?”

Why was he feeling proud of Scout right now? Why was he actually admiring not only his self control, but the fact that he was immediately backing Sniper? He wasn’t supposed to feel these things towards this idiot, not after he’d just screwed them all over, so why was he feeling these things? It was dumb, he’d just ruined everything, and he was feeling proud of him? Dear God, where was the reason? Where was the logic?

Well, it was right in front of him, after all, he was in the wrong, and he knew it.

“Mundy… You have my apologies, I… that comment was out of place, however, surely you can see why we can’t trust this… this Albert character!” Spy exclaimed, meaning both things quite sincerely, wanting him to understand, wanting him to see the logic of the situation. “Is it really that hard for ya to believe that I might actually know what I’m doin’?” Scout asked, genuinely curious, and perfectly serious, “That I know how to tell the difference between someone who’s usin’ me, and someone who ain’t? Do you really not trust me after everything we’ve been through? Ain’t I a member of this team too?”

“Scout… you’re young, you’re naive, and you have yet to be well and truly stung by another,” Spy explained with a newfound patience, hating how both men looked at him with such ire, hating that they both had every right to look at him that way, “so forgive me if I look upon this situation and feel as though it were a trap. The last thing I need right now is to have this team lead to their deaths because a man you believe can be trusted is using you. Scout, he’s in the military! He works for the very people who are trying to kill us!”

“I know,” Scout replied sternly, “that’s why I brought Snipe with me, so that he could vouch for ‘im. Spy, when we was decidin’ whether or not we were gonna let Medic on the team, you said that Snipe’s word would be final, and that he would be the decidin’ factor, because you said, and I quote, ‘I wanna have the paranoid man feel good about who was on his team.’ Well, I figured that I’d have the paran- I’m sorry, the cautious guy on the team go and vouch for my brother, and now when we come back and both say he’s good, suddenly his opinion don’t count for nothin’? Where’s the logic there, dumb dumb? Why aintcha trustin’ Snipe now?”

Damn it.

Damn it all, he was right.

He was blowing Sniper off, he was showing that he didn’t trust him, he wasn’t being the leader his team needed him to be. He was being a hypocrite, again. He was allowing his personal fears and bias to dictate the situation, again. He was being an ass… again.

That wasn’t fair to Sniper, not at all, not after everything.

Why was he like this? Why did he have to cut him so deep? Why was he such a hypocrite? Why was Scout the more mature man in this situation? He was supposed to be better than this, he was better than this… wasn’t he?

Scout wasn’t supposed to be better than him, not in this kind of situation, he was supposed to be better, so why wasn’t he being better? Why was he failing his team as a leader? Why was he failing Sniper as a friend? Why was he failing Scout?

What was wrong with him?

“... I do trust Sniper.” Spy said after taking a far too long drag of his cigarette, which merely caused Scout to raise a skeptical eyebrow, clearly waiting for him to say more, and not impressed whatsoever with Spy’s attempted assurance. When Spy turned to look at Sniper for any sign of forgivness, he discovered that his good friend had turned his gaze to the floor at some point during his mental dilemma, and he found himself looking at the brim of his hat. That hurt, knowing he’d caused that, that hurt badly. Alas, wasn’t this inevitable though? People always got hurt when they got close to him, how many times would he have to say that before someone believed him?

He could always try to apologize, but… no, no he would apologize, he would be better.

This would not be a mistake he made twice.

“Mundy, I do trust you, I trust you with my life… I’m sorry I am not showing it now, that isn’t fair to you. If… If you say this man can be trusted, then I will trust you… I must ask that you forgive my… my own suspicions, they are not born from a lack of trust in you, they have been there a long time, and they are not easy to quiet… This will not be something that happens again, I swear it.”

Did Spy truly trust Sniper at that moment?

No, no he did not. He didn’t trust Albert, nor did he trust either man’s opinions of him, but what choice did he have? Logic stated that if Sniper trusted him, then he should too, so… so he’d have to trust them, and prepare himself for whatever fallout came of it. This wasn’t a situation he wanted to be in, nor was this a situation that he could control, but… well, there was no but, there was truly nothing he could do other than let the cards fall.

That didn’t make him feel good, that didn’t make him feel good, at all, but what other choice did he have? To continue to fight this could mean the possibility of losing the trust of his team, or worse, losing Sniper as a friend, and that wasn’t something he could risk, not now, not ever. If the time came where he was proven right, then he would simply give a quick, ‘I told you so’, and move on with life as best he could. He didn’t really want to be proven right in this situation, yet at the same time some part deep within himself wouldn’t mind the validation, the knowledge of knowing that once again, he was the smartest man in the room.

At least he knew he was sick in the head, so that made him better than most, right?

“So… so we’re cool then? You trust me?” Scout asked, an unusually grave expression on his face as he searched Spy for any signs of mistrust, hesitancy, or blatant lies. Well, Spy was the best for a reason, with the only person in the room who could possibly know he was lying being Sniper, and the man couldn’t even look him in the eyes at the moment. As much as he felt badly about that, he was equally relieved.

How messed up was that?

“If I must, yes, I trust you, but only because Sniper does.” Spy lied while exhaling some smoke, perfectly convincing, using a hint of his usual annoyance, along with enough remorse and sincerity to show he meant it. As far as Spy was aware he didn’t have a tell, which was probably why no one wanted to play poker with him, well, except for Sniper recently, though that didn’t stop him from losing more often than not. Still…

“Yeah, yeah, whatever dude,” Scout spat back with annoyance, appearing just a bit more irked with Spy than usual, “as long as ya don’t go and suddenly decide we can’t be trusted no more, then we’ll be fine. Now… You sure you trust us? You’re not gonna go and do some weird spy stuff cause you’re lyin’ to my face, right?”

“Yes Scout, I trust you, and no, I will not be doing any ‘weird spy stuff’, whatever that means.” Spy promised, the first bit a lie, the second half perfectly honest. Whatever happened, happened, and if something bad did occur, then that would not be on his conscience, that would be on theirs. Maybe then they’d start to listen to him again, maybe then they’d understand why it was he who led them.

“Alright, alright,” Scout said, a bit more trust in his voice as his stance relaxed, “you trust me, I trust you, all’s good in the world, right Snipe?” Sniper didn’t say a word, his gaze still affixed to the ground, though his body was nowhere near as rigid as it once was. That was a sight that instantly made Spy ashamed of all his previous thoughts, ashamed that he was so obsessed with control that he’d practically forgotten about the wound he’d inflicted.

How many more times would he do that? How many more times would he hurt his friend before enough was enough? How many much more of him would Sniper forgive before he finally had enough? How much longer before he lost him too?
“Snipe? You good man?” Scout asked again, giving him a quick nudge on his shoulder, which after a moment did cause Sniper to raise his head, clearly being shaken from his own thoughts. Spy wished he could apologize more, wished he could beg for forgiveness, wished he say more in depth, but he couldn’t, not at that moment, no matter how badly he wanted to. He hoped Sniper understood that, he hoped that he knew that he was truly sorry.

Some part of him doubted he did, some part of himself promised that Sniper would never forgive him, not this time, not when he’d stabbed him in front of the team.

“Uh… yeah, yeah I’m good,” Sniper said, his eyes still averting those around him, his stance going a bit stiff again, “just uh… just thinkin’.”
“Alright, just makin’ sure.” Scout said with a smile, before punching him in the shoulder playfully and saying, “C’mon man, ya can’t let Spy pull shit like that, he’s just being a turd, like he usually is, he’s just mad that I’m the one savin’ our skins this time ‘round.”

God damn it, why was he right?

“Somethin’ like that.” Sniper agreed with a half hearted smirk, which got Scout’s grin to grow as he nodded in agreement. “See? Like I said, Spy’s just bein’ a trud, no use in takin’ it personal.”
“I know, I know…”

“You both realize I am standing right here, right?” Spy asked with irritation. “Shut up turd, nobody asked for your opinion!” Scout ordered with a sly smirk, which instantly dropped into a more sheepish look with a hard stare from Spy. Honestly, had he really fallen that far in such a short amount of time?

“Anyway,” Spy continued with a drag of his cigarette, “now that this whole situation has been properly clarified, I suggest we leave this city before someone spots the van and recognizes it. Sniper, if you would be so kind as to drive us somewhere remote, it would be greatly appreciated.”

“Uh… How do I… uh…” Sniper murmured under his breath, causing Spy to feel his temper flare again. “Look… uh… I don’t feel good about drivin’ right now, what with the traffic at this hour, and I don’t trust nunna you to drive my van either.”
“... It’s rush hour traffic already?” Spy stated in disbelief, a slight panic setting in as the realization of the chances of them being recognized had likely just tripled. “Yeah… yeah it is, and there’s assholes, hippies, and cops everywhere… I don’t wanna drive in this kinda environment… I don’t feel right about it.”

In response, Spy exhaled his smoke slowly, trying to figure out what the next best move would be. He respected Sniper's hesitation to drive, both because he knew the man wasn’t in the right state of mind for it, and because it just really wasn’t a safe thing to do under the given circumstances, however that did mean they were very much sitting ducks at the moment.

They could try and walk to a motel in staggered groups, but they were just too recognizable as individuals, Pyro and Demo especially, so that just wasn't a smart option. Another option was to simply hunker down in the van until things died down, and honestly that was probably the best thing to do, but again, they'd be sitting ducks. Then again, they could always try and drive a short distance to a less open area and settle there, the key word in that sentence being try, and there was no easy Sniper would be willing to do that.

At least there were options, at least this wasn’t entirely out of his control, he just had to sit and think for a moment, and everything would be ok. That made him feel better, a lot better.

“Uh… Spy?” Scout said with great apprehension, causing Spy to simply move his eyes to him and nothing more, still smoking quietly to try and calm himself down. “Would… would ya kill me if I said I had a solution?”
“Probably.” Spy replied flatly, again inhaling smoke in an attempt to ease his mind. “Yeah, yeah I figured as much…” Scout muttered defeatedly, before instantly looking like he had an idea. “Hey uh, hey doc, could ya c’mere for a moment?”

“What?” Medic asked in confusion, causing Spy to remember that his lover had just witnessed that whole interaction between him, Sniper and Scout, which instantly caused him to want to bury himself in a hole and never come out of it. “Just- just c’mere for a moment, I gotta borrow you, it’ll take less than a minute, promise.” Scout promised as he walked over and grabbed Medic, quickly pulling him over so that he was where he had been previously standing, then quickly getting behind Medic, promptly using him as a shield.

“Now Spy,” Scout said while looking out from behind Medic, who was looking terribly confused, as well as a bit concerned, “I know I ain’t been too honest about everything regarding this whole adventure, but what if I were to tell you I gotta solution to this small dilemma of ours?”
“What the hell are you doing?” Spy asked, but Scout didn’t answer him, and Medic simply looked between him and Scout, unsure of if he should say or do anything. “Just hear me out, just hear me out for a minute… What if I were to tell you that I got another brother who-”
“NOT THIS AGAIN!!!” Spy cried out in disbelief, instantly causing Scout to duck further behind Medic.

“Hear me out, just hear me out for a moment!” Scout exclaimed desperately, but Spy was having none of it, he refused to. “No, non! I will not listen to whatever half baked, half true idea you have just formed, I refuse!” Spy cried out, trying to get closer to Scout in order to properly assert himself as the one in control, only for Scout to grab onto Medic’s shoulders and move the both of them away from him. “It’s a good idea, I won’t leave nothin’ out, I swear I ain’t gonna pull a you again!”

“First of all, I don’t lie to my teammates about what’s actually going on!” Spy exclaimed, knowing it was a lie but not caring, “Second of all, I haven’t even met the first brother, no way in hell am I letting you lead us to another one!”
“See, but this one ain't got any relation to the government, he actually can’t stand the government!” Scout protested while continuing to use Medic as a shield, still backing away from Spy and maneuvering around the van in order to try and maintain distance, “Trust me on this, he’d be more than happy to house us for a night, I could even get Al to come over and you could meet ‘im face to face before tomorrow!”

“Would you stop using Medic as a shield!” Spy cried out, making a grab for Scout, who simply ducked with Medic and dodged it, causing Medic to yelp with surprise as they quickly backed away. “Not until you stop tryin’ to kill me!” Scout shot back, before grunting with surprise as he hit a wall and was forced to stop.

“Okay, okay, das reicht!” Medic exclaimed, shoving off of Scout with his left hand, and using his right to stop Spy from approaching, promptly pushing the two away from each other. “Scout, stop using me as a shield, it’s ridiculous! Spy, stop trying to kill Scout, you are a better man than that!” A moment later, Medic let out a pained sound as he gritted his teeth and tightly shut his eyes, his arms faltering for just a moment, before he took in a deeper breath and returned to his normal composure.

“Hey, you ok doc? Everything good?” Scout asked before Spy could even open his mouth, though a gentle, yet stern look from Medic quickly got him to quiet down. Once both men were finally still, Medic let out a sigh, then looked between the two of them and patiently said, “I know this isn’t an ideal situation, and I know everyone is tired of being stuck together, but that does not mean you get to treat each other so poorly. Scout, you should have been honest about your brother, but that’s all in the past, and there’s nothing to be done about it now. Spy, Scout is a member of this team, you have no right to simply shut him down because you don’t like the options he’s providing.”

“That- that’s not-” Spy tried to protest, but he simply couldn’t find it within himself to fight back, not when Medic was right, not when he was clearly hurting. Shouldn’t he be getting better? They’d been doing nothing but sitting and resting, why was he still hurting? Maybe the constant sitting wasn’t doing him good, perhaps the stagnation of the trip was causing him harm.

“Spy, no one is dead, no one is hurt, and Scout’s brother can be trusted.” Medic stated with gentle patience, far more than he was deserving of, “I know this isn’t a situation you want to be in, I know you’re exhausted from trying to figure out how to keep us all alive, but you have got to put a little more faith into your team… into us.”

He had faith in Medic, he had faith in Sniper, wasn’t that enough? Why on earth should he trust Scout? Why on earth should he truly believe that everything would be ok, when he had no control over the situation at all? Nothing was right, everything was going to hell, and now Scout was trying to lead them to yet another one of his moronic brothers. Why was Medic putting any faith at all into him? Why couldn’t Medic see that this was a trap?

Scout was a moron who very well could’ve just led them all to their deaths, Sniper wasn’t thinking straight for some reason, and Medic actually had faith in Scout, who had led them to his military brother. Had he lost his mind? Was he actually considering listening to this absolute moron? Had everything gone to hell?

Where was the reason? Where was the logic? Why was nothing under his control anymore?

The situation with Miss Pauling had been bearable, easy to accept on some levels, after all, he put himself into that predicament, but this? Running blindly forward towards a future that held nothing? Putting his faith into a man he’d never met, who worked for the government, who Scout recommended? That was ludicrous, this whole situation was ludicrous, and now, now Medic was-

“Meine Engel,” Medic assured quietly, placing a hand on Spy’s cheek gently as his ever persistent demons quieted, backing away into the furthest depths of his mind once again, “Spy, meine Engel, bitte, bitte, have faith in us, as we have faith in you. It’s all going to be ok, I promise, it’s all going to work out. I beg of you meine Engel, have faith in us, have faith in your team.”

Medic was calm, so incredibly calm, his sapphire eyes radiating nothing but absolute trust and understanding, two things Spy knew he was undeserving of. Somehow, despite everything he was, despite everything he’d just said, Medic was smiling at him, a calm, gentle, patient smile, one that seemingly promised that everything would be ok, and that he wasn’t alone.

It was true that Medic had absolutely no idea what was truly going on within Spy’s head, he had no idea just how great his demons were, nor how venomous he was truly capable of being, yet it felt as though he did. It felt as though Medic were looking into his very soul, and that somehow, he understood just how frightened he really was, how sick, how unnerved. That was frightening at first, being seen, yet Spy was quick to assure himself that he couldn’t know what he was truly thinking, he couldn’t know how badly he yearned for control again, how badly he needed control again.

Despite this assurance, some part of him wished that Medic knew these things about him, if only to receive some real comfort, some real assurance, some real sense of belonging and acceptance. That was such a strange feeling, wanting to be vulnerable, wanting to be open and honest, it was one he hadn’t felt since he’d fallen for Charlotte all those years ago. Back then, it had felt somewhat freeing, a bit nerve wracking for certain, but it’d felt wonderful to connect to someone so closely that he’d wanted to be seen. Now though…

That thought chilled him to his very core.

He wasn’t young, he was old. He wasn’t naive, he was wise, well, as wise as one could be. He wasn’t an amateur, he was a professional. He wasn’t an idiot, he was a fool.

Youth and inexperience could forgive such demons, such actions, such thoughts, such desires, but he wasn’t young, and he wasn’t inexperienced. Spy had lived long enough to correct these mistakes, he just never had, he hadn’t wanted to, hadn’t felt a need to, but now that he was here, and now that he didn’t have control, he felt like he was losing his mind.

Dear God, when had this part of himself become so unbearable?

“Spy?”

One inhale of smoke later, and he was back in reality, once again torn from his demons and forced into the present moment, where his lover looked upon him with patience and understanding, even though he truly did not understand. However, Medic clearly understood enough to be patient, and to know that his mistrust wasn’t personal, which was a nice thing to know.

Honestly, he really did have to start working on himself if he wanted to keep this man in his life, or the rest of his team for that matter, he just simply didn’t know where to start. Maybe that path would reveal itself in time, though unfortunately it probably meant that he’d have to trust Scout, and not strangle him on the spot.

Once this rather unfortunate realization was made, Spy finally let out a deep sigh, along with a great deal of smoke, and closed his eyes while nodding for a moment, trying to accept the fact that Medic was right, trying to trust him wholly, trying to be the leader his team needed him to be. When he opened his eyes, he couldn’t help but give a small smile when he saw the relief in Medic’s eyes, even though his heart ached with guilt.

One day, one day he would tell him everything, just not today, not just yet.

“You’re right,” Spy conceded, half believing himself when he said it, “it’s not fair to the team to have no faith in them, they deserve better… You all deserve to be treated better.” Spy said that last bit as he looked over his entire team, wanting to have complete faith in them, wanting to have complete trust in them, wanting to truly and wholly believe in them and the choices they made. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, it was simply that he didn’t always trust them depending on the situation, though why this was he wasn’t entirely certain.

“Scout, you have my apologies for my… my inappropriate reaction, I did not handle myself well, and I’m sorry.” Spy apologized sincerely, though he wasn’t entirely surprised when the only reaction he got from the young man was a skeptical look. Fair enough he supposed.

“Ok… anything else?” Scout asked, causing a pang of guilt mixed with annoyance to cut through Spy, hating that he’d have to elaborate. “If… If Sniper has faith in your brother Albert,” Spy continued, keeping his tone in check while pushing his demons back, “then I will trust Sniper's judgement. That being said… If Sniper trusts your judgement, then I will also trust your judgement. You claim that you have another brother within this city that is willing to help us, very well, I will trust you, though you will forgive me if I ask but one question.”
“Shoot.” Scout replied, his stance relaxing as he stepped out from behind Medic.

“Why not stay with Albert?” Spy queried, trying and failing to keep the suspicion from his voice, “Surely he is willing to assist us if you call for it, after all he has already put himself in great danger just by offering to take us to Australia.”
“Oh, simple,” Scout explained, something about his tone actually assuring Spy, “Al’s got a wife and kids, and he don’t want us around ‘em, ya know, in case something does actually go south. That, and uh, I don’t think he wants his kids around, ya know, guys like us? We ain’t exactly child friendly over here… or wife friendly… family friendly really.”

“I… I can respect that,” Spy stated after a moment of thought, “though I must ask about this… other brother you have, and please, don’t leave out any details this time.”
“Yeah, yeah, I won’t,” Scout assured with a disregarding wave of his hand, quickly putting Spy on edge again, if only for a moment, “ain’t much to hide about ‘im anyhow. Anyway, his name’s Quincy, and yeah, we’re still workin’ on rebuilding our relationship, that part was a hundred percent on me, but we’re doin’ a helluva lot better than we were.”

“Does he know you’re here?” Medic asked, and Spy did not like the sheepish expression Scout quickly dawned. “Uh, no, no not yet,” Scout explained as he began to fidget with whatever he could find on himself, “but I promise ya, he’d have no problem with housin’ us, he’s a cool guy like that, plus he’s single.”
“Alright, what else should we know about this, ‘Quincy’, other than the fact that he apparently hates the government.”
“Uh… he’s gay as fuck, and I’m pretty sure that’s why he hates the government.”

For once, Medic was the one to face palm himself, though not nearly as hard as Spy had done in previous instances, though whether this was due to the fact he wanted to preserve his glasses, or because he wasn’t actually that surprised by Scout’s description of his brother was beyond Spy. Either way, at least there was a plan in place for how they were going to survive the night within this wretched place, or at least the beginnings of one anyway. Whether or not it would actually go anywhere productive was another matter entirely, a matter that Spy was not looking forward to getting into.

Alas, such was his burden to bear.

Chapter Text

In all honesty, Medic wasn’t entirely sure what to think about Scout and his spontaneous ideas that involved his older brothers, nor was he sure of how to feel about the fact that two of them both coincidentally lived in the same city. On the one hand, he truly did trust him, and he did trust the fact that if he said that his brothers could be trusted, then they really could be. However, on the other hand he wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact that Scout had hidden Alberts true occupation from them, especially with how tense everything was already.

Again, he trusted the young man, really he did, he just couldn’t help but be a little bit concerned.

That being said, there currently weren’t any other options to get to Australia other than Albert, so being concerned with the situation really wouldn’t do any good. That, and they were currently on their way to meet another brother of his, whom they would be trusting to keep them safe for the night.

It was very conflicting for poor Medic, so in the end he decided to trust Sniper's judgement, which dictated that he should also trust Scout’s judgement.

However, that then led down the rabbit hole of what to perceive of Spy’s judgement, after all, not only was he the team’s leader, but he was his lover, so he should trust him above everyone else, right? Spy clearly didn’t trust Scout, nor Sniper, but then again, he was a bit of a paranoid man, and he had yet to actually delve into what had gotten him so upset back before they’d set out on this little road trip, so who was to say where his mind truly was. Medic felt badly for not trusting Spy's judgement, and some part of him did want to believe that he knew what he was doing, but he just couldn’t shake the distinct feeling that Spy was losing some mental fight with himself.

Despite normally being impossible to read, it was now incredibly obvious, at least to Medic, that his once composed, solemn, caring lover had in the course of two days become a paranoid, irritated, borderline infuriating man. He just didn’t know what to make of it, he didn’t know how to approach him, and he didn’t know how to make him feel better. All he wanted was for him to talk, all he wanted was to understand what was going on within his lover's mind, to be able to offer him some sense of comfort, to be there for him.

He wanted Spy to trust him.

That was what hurt the most about this situation Medic found himself in, knowing that Spy didn’t trust him. Granted, the man was inherently secretive, he had been for as long as Medic had known him, so he couldn’t expect Spy to simply trust him as quickly as Medic had learned to trust Spy, that would be irrational. Still, they’d gone through so much together already, and even if they hadn’t been a couple for longer than a month yet, they had still endured quite a bit as friends, and…

Well, if not for Spy, he’d be dead, and he knew it.

Twice his life had come so close to ending, and twice Spy had saved him. He’d helped him walk through the hellscape of his mind after his torture, helped him find comfort in the dark nights when his demons threatened to consume him, helped him find the strength to fight back against those who had done him such harm. Spy knew him, he knew him intimately, he’d seen him at his lowest point more times than he could count, he just…

Medic wanted to know Spy intimately as well, not to even the playing field per say, but just because he wanted to have a real relationship with the man, he wanted to be trusted, he wanted to know that…

No, no he shouldn’t think such things, now he was being paranoid. Then again, it was hard not to be in such confusing times, though he really did try not to be, for the sake of his team, and himself.

In the end, all of these thoughts simply led to Medic getting a slight headache, and the very, very strong desire for sleep, and not the kind that was interrupted by a deer driving a Toyota Corolla. Yes, he knew that wasn’t actually what had happened, but still, he liked to imagine that’s what happened.

“Alright, make another left up at that light, and Q’s place will be six houses down.” Scout instructed from the front, and though no response was made from Sniper, Medic simply imagined him rigidly nodding his understanding. After much debate as to how to get to Quincy’s place, it was decided that driving would be the best and fastest option, seeing as he wasn’t actually that far away. So far everything was going smoothly, aside from Sniper's usual road attitude, and they’d be at Quincy’s within the minute.

Yes, everyone made sure that Scout had called Quincy beforehand to make sure he knew he was coming, along with seven other men, after all, it was the polite, and reasonable thing to do.

“Jesus bloody Christ…” Sniper muttered as he made the turn, and before anyone could ask why, everyone was knocked off balance by the apparent steep hill that Sniper had to drive down to get to Quincy’s house. “Why the bloody fuck would someone actually build houses on this thing! This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen in my life!” Sniper exclaimed as he quickly shifted gears, his speed slowing drastically as they continued. “Hey, don’t ask me, Boston ain’t built like this, neither’s New York!” Scout defended, all while Medic’s heart sank the further they drove, trying to imagine how it was even possible to live on this steep of an incline.

“These ain’t even houses! It just looks like a giant wall of doors and windows!”
“Hey man, I ain’t from the west coast, I ain’t gonna question how they do shit.”
“Well I am! This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen in my life! Your brother’s an idiot for livin’ in this kinda shitshow! How is this even livable!?!”

“Oh, oh I see ‘im! That’s Q, Snipe! The blonde guy wavin’ at us over there, right side’a the road!” Scout suddenly exclaimed, before shouting out of his window, “Hey! Hey Quin! We made it man!” The vans horn then blared in two quick successions, before the van was jerked around and Sniper shouted, “THE FUCK DID I TELL YA ABOUT TOUCHIN’ THE SHIT UP ‘ERE!?!?”
“Oops, sorry I got excited.” Scout awkwardly apologized, before quickly going back to hailing his brother.

Soon enough, the van was parked precariously on the hill, though it had hardly stopped before Scout leapt out of the van and ran to his brother, shouting excitedly as he went. Though Medic couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, he knew that it was a joyous reunion, something which made his heart feel lighter, and warm as well. “Oh well that’s a bloody relief,” Sniper muttered as he got out of the van, before saying to his team, “alright, coast’s clear, you can load out.”

“Finally! I was getting cramped!” Soldier cried out as he burst out of the van, instantly tripping as he hit the incline and nearly face planting, catching himself just in time as he spun around awkwardly as if nothing had happened. “Watch out for the hill! It is steep!” he warned, which merely got an irked groan from Spy as he made his way out. “Thanks for the warnin’ lad!” Demo said cheerily, and soon enough everyone had unloaded, finally free of the back of the van.

Upon laying eyes on Quincy for the first time, he looked just about as Medic expected him to look given Scout's vague description of him. As previously stated, he had blonde hair, which ran to his shoulders and was wavy, his skin was fair, looking as though it would burn quite easily, and like Scout, he had blue eyes, though they were a shade different. Quincy’s were more of a sky blue, while Scout’s looked more icy blue, kind of like Spy’s now that Medic thought about it.

He wore lavender colored bell-bottom pants, an off white, flowy shirt with a deep V-neck that was not tucked in, and an emerald green vest that was far too long for any proper vest. In short, he looked like a hippie.

“Oh man, it’s good to see you again dude!” Scout exclaimed as he held Quincy in a tight hug, which was being returned by his equally happy brother. “Never thought I’d hear those words out of your mouth!” Quincy stated teasingly as he pulled away from Scout and looked him over in awe, his Boston accent basically nonexistent, but still noticeable if one really listened. “Jesus Christ, when did you get so tall?”
“Well I couldn’t be the littlest forever! I’m pretty sure that honor goes to Al nowadays.”
“I dare you to say that in front of him, I freaking dare you!”

“I hate to interrupt this touching reunion,” Spy interrupted, not sounding sorry at all, “but could we please move this indoors? I really would hate to be recognized and turned over to the authorities.”
“Oh! Of course!” Quincy exclaimed understandingly, giving Scout a quick punch in the shoulder before motioning to the rest of the team to follow him and saying, “Please come in! My house is your house.”

“... I think I just got whiplash.” Sniper muttered as he followed Quincy. “How so?” Spy asked, carefully looking around the area to make sure no one was watching them. “The other one tried to shoot me, very drill-sergeant type guy.” Sniper explained, which got an enormous eye roll from Spy. “Well, I suppose that’s why we called ahead this time.” Medic stated, watching fondly as Scout and Quincy continued their talking as they entered the house. “I suppose it is.” Spy agreed, taking a moment to light a cigarette before continuing.

“Oh my God, where are my manners!” Quincy suddenly exclaimed, quickly turning and facing the rest of the team right before walking into his house. “I am so sorry, I completely ignored all of you! Hi, I’m Quincy, I don’t know what-”
“Inside, please?” Spy interrupted, continuing to usher his team forward, a bit more urgency in his voice this time. “Oh, right, yes, inside, yes!” Quincy again exclaimed, quickly making his way inside, along with the rest of the team.

Once inside, Quincy once again turned to the team, a warm smile on his face, and this time, was actually able to properly introduce himself. “Hi, I’m Quincy, and like I was trying to say, I don’t know what Jerry here said about me, but I am more than happy to have you all, and while we’re certainly going to be a bit cramped, I’m sure we can make it work. Now, I’m certain that you all are hungry, so is there anything I can get you? Any way I can make you guys comfortable for the night?”

“Why don’t we introduce ourselves, da?” Heavy suggested with a smile, before approaching with an extended hand and saying, “You can call me Heavy. Nyet, is not real name, but we don’t use those.” While returning the smile, Quincy gladly took Heavy’s hand and warmly said, “It’s nice to meet you, Heavy, I’m glad you all trusted me, I’m sure it wasn’t easy with Jerry’s… well, idiocracies.”
“Ew gross, you just sounded like Spy for a second.” Scout stated with disgust, again, earning an eye roll from Spy.

“Speaking of which,” Quincy muttered, now turning his attention to Spy, “I’m going to assume you’re the aforementioned Spy, what with the mask, suit, and terribly suave attitude… I hate to be that person, but could you please not smoke in my house?”
“Of course, it was rude of me not to ask beforehand,” Spy apologized as he snuffed it out, before going and shaking Quincy’s hand, “and I mean no offense when I say this, but I am surprised that your vocabulary is so refined, compared to your brothers that is.”
“Oh well, I attribute it to having more of my mother's traits, she’s a very refined woman… Jerry on the other hand must’ve gotten more of his dad’s traits.”

A quick snort of Sniper instantly grabbed everyone's attention, though he quickly got a straight face when he realized everyone was looking at him. “Uh… sorry.” he muttered, quickly turning his attention to the interior decor of the house in an attempt to get the attention away from him.

“... Right,” Spy said after an unusually awkward pause, “anyway, the awkward fellow over there is Sniper, he met your brother Albert today.”
“Oh, did you now?” Quincy asked quizzically, now turning towards Sniper, “Pray tell, how did that go?”
“Uh… he almost shot me… Don’t blame ‘im though, Scout didn’t set us up properly, and uh… Didn’t know he was a military bloke.” Sniper explained awkwardly, his eyes shifting around, occasionally landing on Quincy, but never staying for too long. “Yeah, that sounds about right, for both idiots actually… I’m guessing both of their dads weren’t very bright.”

Quincy whispered that last part so only those closest to Sniper could hear him, that being Medic and Spy, so when Sniper started to chuckle to himself, no one else was really sure as to why. “You’re insulin’ me, aintcha?” Scout asked flatly with an unamused expression. Quincy was quick to put a hand over his heart in mock offense, before promising in a rather mortified tone, “Never.”
“Man, shut the fuck up.”

“Anyhow,” Quincy stated, now turning to Medic, pausing for a moment as he gave him a quick look over, a bit of concern washing over his face as he did so. “Honey, are you ok? You look exhausted.” Quincy asked, genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.

Medic thought about saying yes, he was ok, but he really didn’t feel ok, at all. Mostly he was just tired, it was hard to get good sleep when cramped in the van, and worrying about Spy and whatever problems he had wasn’t doing him any good either. That, and he had no idea what he looked like, so as far as he knew his body and face were giving away whatever stress and exhaustion he was truly feeling. Hopefully that was all, he just couldn’t bear the thought of knowing that his pain showed too.

“... Ja, I am exhausted,” Medic admitted with a halfhearted laugh, feeling a bit lighter upon admitting it, “it has been a long journey, and while I do enjoy my companions, we have been in a very small space for a long time.”
“Oh, I completely understand,” Quincy assured sympathetically, “I grew up in a small house with lots of brothers, it can be a lot, especially if you’re not used to it. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re set up for tonight, gotta get rid of those eyebags somehow, right?”

God, did he really look that bad?

“Vielen dank.” Medic said with a small smile, which Quincy returned in earnest. “Don’t you worry about a thing, I’ll have it all taken care of… Damn it, I didn’t even give you a chance to introduce yourself! I am so sorry about that!”
“Ach, don’t worry about it, there’s a lot of people to meet. I’m Medic, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Pleasure’s all mine, now, who exactly are you, my mysterious friend?”

Pyro quickly stepped forward with his hand out politely, giving a quick introduction of himself as he did so. “Uh huh… I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Quincy asked, stepping a bit closer both to shake his hand, and to try and understand him better. “Oh, that’s Pyro, he ain’t easy to understand,” Scout explained as he walked next to Pyro, “if ya listen real good he’s comprehensible, but it takes a minute of gettin’ used to. He was just sayin’ who he was, and thankin’ ya for lettin’ us crash ‘ere.”

“Oh, well the pleasure’s all mine, Pyro!” Quincy thanked, before turning to Soldier, who had been standing oddly still throughout the whole introductory process, his mouth pressed into a hard line, everything about him indicating discomfort. “Everything all right?” Quincy asked, though everyone who knew Soldier already knew what the problem was.

“You’re a hippie, aren't you?” Soldier stated venomously, which once again elicited an irked groan from Spy, and a light facepalm. A bit taken aback, Quincy turned to Scout for an explanation, who quickly and desperately tried to signal that he should deny his hippiness, which got a slight eye roll from Quincy, before he turned back to Solider, terribly unamused.

He then thought for a moment, then leaned in and said a loud whisper, “Actually, I work for the FBI and go undercover to hippie events in order to better learn how to take them down, and if I’m really feeling like an asshole, I’ll go raid gay bars.”
“Oh, phew! That’s a relief!” Soldier exclaimed with a relieved sigh, instantly smiling and relaxing as Quincy turned to Scout in confusion, “Although, I must express my disapproval of your raiding of gay bars! I know many amazing gay people, Medic and Spy being two of them, and they do not deserve that harassment!”

Instantly Medic turned beet red as he hid his face, more out of habit than anything else, wishing he could simply disappear into nothing as Scout and Pyro began to snicker to themselves hysterically. Logic stated he had nothing to worry about considering the company he was with, but still, he just couldn’t help himself.

“... You are an interesting character, aren’t you?” Quincy stated after a moment's pause, a bit of understanding starting to enter his voice. “I am the best kind of character there is! The American kind!” Soldier declared proudly, a wide grin on his face as he thumped his chest. “I see…” Quincy said, now aware of what kind of crazy he was dealing with, “well in that case, I’ve been convinced of the error of my ways, and I will no longer raid gay bars when I’m feeling like an asshole. Thank you, your American spirit has broken my hatred for gays, but not for hippies.”
“Oorah!!!”

“Soldier, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you.” Spy seethed out coldly, which quickly got Soldier to shut up, all while Medic slowly lowered his hands, still feeling rather hot in the face. Being called out like that wasn’t exactly something he enjoyed, especially with someone he didn’t know, it just made him feel terribly awkward.

“Oh, don’t worry about a thing,” Quincy quickly assured, “the closet’s glass in this house, if you catch my drift.”
“Oh, I do… Gott, Ich kann nicht glauben, dass das gerade passiert ist…”
“At least you have good friends, that’s better than most can say.”
“You’re not wrong…”

“Aye lad, Soldier’s just showing his support the best way he knows,” Demo declared as he put an assuring hand on Medic’s shoulder, “that being loud, defensive, and rather obvious. All things considered, it could be worse, he could be like Spy and not show any emotion at all, aside from annoyance that is.”
“Hilarious.” Spy commented coldly, still looking quite pissed. “Example A.” Demo stated with a grin, which got a short laugh from Medic as his nerves died down, realizing that Demo was right, and that it really could be a lot worse.

“Now then, I do believe I’m the last of us to make yar acquaintance lad,” Demo said with a friendly tone as he turned to Quincy with his usual smile, “and I must say, ya got a lovely home, ya’ve done a grand job with the decor, I feel like I’m in a bloody museum!”
“... Hi…” was all Quincy could get out at that moment, his face beet red, his tone giving away just how flustered he’d become. “Now then, ya can go ahead and call me Demo,” Demo said, not hearing his quiet greeting, nor noticing the man’s current state, “and like the rest of my team, I really must thank ya for havin’ us, not many woulda been up to the challenge, especially with such short notice! Ya really are a saint lad.”

“... It’s my pleasure, Demo…” Quincy thanked quietly, unabashedly staring at the man in a starstruck manner, although really, who could blame him? Well, Scout could, who upon seeing his brother's attraction to his teammate, started to gag and mock puke, all while Pyro began to giggle uncontrollably.

“Stop that you freakin’ idiot!” Quincy seethed out quietly as he ran towards Scout, quickly putting him in a headlock as Scout cried out in distress, fighting and protesting the sudden assault. “You don’t get to do that in my house! You wanna puke so frickin’ bad, you can go straight to the army and ask to use one’a their bathrooms! I’m sure they’d be more than happy to have ya!”
“Augh! Git off me! This is abuse!” Scout cried out, still unable to free himself, or perhaps more accurately, simply having too good of a time to want to free himself. “Nuh uh, this is abuse.” Quincy declared maliciously, before he started to viciously noogie his younger brother, who now actually began to fight back, finding to his horror that he really was trapped.

“Ahem.” Spy interrupted, clearly irritated. Seeing this, Quincy gave Scout one last quick punch in the shoulder before letting him up, smiling awkwardly as he did so. “Sorry about that,” he said as Scout dramatically gasped for air, “sometimes I gotta remind my littler brothers about who’s older, especially that one.”
“Fuck you.” Scout spat out, before instantly flinching as Quincy raised his fist in a mock attack, then flipping him off when he realized he’d been played.

“Once a bigger brother, always a bigger brother.” Quincy declared somewhat smuggly, before he turned back to the rest of the team and said, “Now then, let’s get you guys comfortable, we’ll go ahead and do Chinese for dinner, since it's simple enough, for now though, let’s try and find room for you guys.”

Quincy’s home, while a bit small, was certainly beautiful, with paintings from many different cultures and styles lining the walls, various plants on windowsills or shelves, and the furniture sporting bright colors and patterns, all while not clashing with anything else in the house. Everything that was placed had been placed with care, every art piece, every plant, and every color picked with clear intention and purpose, as if the house itself were trying to tell a story. It really did look like some kind of museum.

It didn’t take too long to find suitable arrangements for everyone, what with Sniper simply choosing to sleep in his van for the night, and Medic and Spy claiming the guest room, leaving the rest of the team to find proper sleeping spots. Really though, Medic couldn’t wait to sleep in an actual bed, especially with Spy, for while the van was decent, it really didn’t do his back any good, or the rest of his body for that matter. He did feel badly that the rest of his team would basically be relegated to the floor, with the expectation of whoever got dibs to the couch, but no one complained, and there were certainly plenty of blankets and pillows to be found.

Not long after that, Quincy went out to get them dinner, which Spy insisted he pay for, and roughly an hour later, everyone was sitting on, or around the couch, while eating Chinese takeout. Truly, the most relaxing evening they’d had in a while.

“So, out of curiosity, why exactly are you guys running from the army? I mean, I get if it's none of my business, but I really am curious.” Quincy asked once everyone had settled in properly. “We ain’t exactly certain ourselves,” Demo answered as he opened a beer, “we know that some sleekit jobbie is tryin’ to kill us, and that he paid off some folks to do so, but I ain’t exactly sure as t’why. I reckon it had somethin’ to do with Pauling, our boss that is, and her knowin’ how t’stop ‘im, but the army was sent before we made plans with ‘er, so who really knows.”

“I imagine Gray simply had enough foresight to know what was going to happen, and tried to get ahead of her,” Spy mused while Demo began to drink, “that, and I have a suspicion our old bastard friends might have actually been working for him.”
“Ya don’t say?” Demo stated thoughtfully, now rubbing his beard as he thought it over carefully.

“Now that you mention it, that would make sense,” Medic agreed, a bit of a chill going down his spine as he recalled Fred's last words to him, “I don’t think I was supposed to survive as long as I did when I was still a part of their team… I’m fairly certain that if Sniper hadn’t wounded me while we were fleeing that last battle before the blizzard, they would’ve just killed me in the woods themselves…”

“Well, I’m certainly grateful that’s not what happened.” Spy said with a warm smile, which Medic returned softly, some tightness in his heart leaving him.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Quincy said as he struggled to get the story straight in his head, “I thought y’all were a team? Like, originally I mean. You weren’t always Red?”
“Uh… Nein, nein I was not…” Medic explained, memories of his brief time with the old mercs making his chest feel heavy, “Oh Gott, it’s such a long story, I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Then I will tell the tale!” Soldier declared enthusiastically, earning a face palm from Spy and a groan from Sniper. “It all began right before the worst blizzard I’ve ever experienced, while those old bastards turned and ran rather than face our lead after we beat the crap out of them! Then Sniper shot Medic in the back like a coward!”

“Now hold on a bloody minute! Ya got it all wrong!” Sniper quickly protested, though Medic did recall being shot in the back rather vividly. “What! I am telling the story how it happened! You shot Medic while he was running from you! Like a coward!”
“It was- it- look I was just feelin’ pissed, and they were being bastards!”
“So you admit you were a coward then!”
“Did I say that I was a coward!?!”
“It was implied!”

While Sniper and Soldier continued to argue over whether Sniper was a coward or not, Demo leaned over to Quincy and Medic and quietly said, “I’ll tell it how it happened, those two might take a while.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful…” Quincy thanked as he moved in a little closer, his gaze now intently fixed on Demo, who was none the wiser as he began to tell the story of how a combination of the old mercs, Scouts bad food, and cuisine from around the world got Medic to kiss Spy.

Sometime later, the story had been successfully told, and Soldier and Sniper had been forced to quiet their bickering by Heavy.

“...Wow… I feel like I shoulda gotten you guys something better than Chinese takeout.” Quincy said as everything sank in, though Pyro was quick to assure him that the food was wonderful as he snarfed down more of it. “Well, thank you, Pyro, but really, you guys have been through hell! I mean, you’re missing two members of your team, you’re running all over tarnation in order to keep yourselves alive, while being hunted by someone you’ve never met, who wants you dead… just because! Not to mention the fact that you’ve literally been stuck in a freaking camper van for basically a week, and you’re gonna continue to be in that van for God knows how long!”

“Don’t remind me.” Sniper muttered with disdain as he drank some beer. “I mean, I’m sure it could be worse,” Medic ventured, hoping to try and raise his team's spirits a bit, “ja, we’re missing Engineer and Herr Ludwig, but at least none of us are hurt, and there is a solid plan in place, thanks to Herr Scout and Spy.”
“Honey, I don’t mean to be that person, but I’m pretty sure you’re hurt.” Quincy stated with concern, though Medic simply gave a small, assuring smile, not wanting him to worry more than he already was. “I’m getting better every day.” He assured softly, not sure if he was lying, or simply being hopeful. He was getting better, he had to be, there was no way he wasn’t… right?

Before Quincy could press any further, Pyro made a quick noise as he reached into a pocket, pulling out a carefully folded up picture and making his way over to Quincy. Once next to him, he unfolded the picture, revealing the entire Red team posing for a team photo, the date March, 1969 written in the corner. Pyro then pointed out Engineer, making sure that Quincy paid good attention to him, before pointing out Ludwig, also tapping him for emphasis, along with Archimedes.

“Oh… Ok, yeah, I think I get it,” Quincy said as he examined the photo carefully, “if I see ‘em, I’ll either tell you, or I’ll let them know where you guys are headed, how’s that?” Pyro quickly thanked him, before giving him a big hug, and although a bit startled at first, Quincy did return it. “Don’t you worry now, everything’ll work out fine in the end.” Quincy promised as he let go of Pyro, who quickly nodded in agreement as he carefully folded the photo and put it back.

“Da, it always does,” Heavy agreed with a sad smile, though he really did mean it, “it just takes long time, must be patient.”
“Yeah? Well I might need to borrow some of the patience, cause mine’s about gone.” Sniper commented as he grabbed another beer, quickly opening it and starting to drink. “I mean really, if I’d known that my van would become the crux of this whole bloody mission, I woulda just let the army take me.”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic.” Spy muttered, nearly lighting a cigarette, but stopping himself just before lighting it. “Well ain’t that the pot callin’ the kettle black, mister, ‘I can’t fuckin’ tell Medic I love ‘im cause I’m a bloody wuss and he might not like the real me!’”
“Shut up.”
“Come up with a more original response and I might, ya bloody wuss.”

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening caught everyone’s attention, causing Spy, Scout, Soldier, and Sniper to reach for their guns, though other than that they remained still. What struck them as odd was that it hadn’t been busted open, rather it had been opened normally, as if whoever was there owned the place.

“Lad, were ya expectin’ company?” Demo whispered as he gripped a bottle of beer tightly, preparing himself for whatever trouble was coming. “N-no, no I wasn’t…” Quincy whispered back frightenedly, before pausing, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he relaxed slightly. “Wait… what day is it?”
“Uh… I believe it’s Friday if I’m rememberin’ correctly, why?” Demo asked, watching as all the fear in Quincy left in a heartbeat, now replaced with a bit of embarrassment and relief.

“Oh my God, it’s sushi night.” He said with blunt realization, though before anyone could ask what that meant, a voice called out from the front door that both Scout and Sniper instantly recognized.

“You’re not gonna fuckin’ believe what happened today, Q!” Albert shouted from down the hall, instantly causing Scout’s face to drop as he stared at Quincy, who was returning his look of realization, that being that they forgot to tell their brother that they were spending the night together. “Like really, I’m still tryin’ to wrap my head around it, it’s that fuckin’ crazy. So the other day Jerry called me up, and was being a real prick and just askin’ for a favor, but ya know what, I decided to humor him and actually talk to ‘im. Well he actually showed his face today and-”

Albert instantly stopped talking as he walked into the living room where they were all seated, two bottles of wine under one arm, with a bag of sushi in his other arm, and he simply stared at the scene in front of him for a moment, just taking it in. This lasted less than three seconds.

“Are you shitting my dick right now! What the fuck is this bullshit!” Albert shouted in disbelief, as Quincy gave a sheepish smile and waved. “Hi Al!” Scout greeted happily, also waving, but much more enthusiastically. “Did neither of you fucks actually think to let me know that this was the plan? Like, Jerry, I get that this woulda flown over your head, but Q?!? C’mon dude! It’s freakin’ Friday!”

“Look, I wasn’t exactly expectin’ company tonight!” Quincy quickly protested, his Boston accent thickening instantly, “This was very impromptu, and yeah, I forgot it was Friday! Sue me!”
“I will, ya owe me ten thousand dollars now, all’a which will go right to your nieces and nephews' college funds.”
“Oh, well I can accept that, cash or check.”

“Jesus Christ,” Albert muttered as he took a second look around the room again, before bluntly saying, “ya can put the guns away guys, I ain’t gonna turn ya in to the feds, despite popular belief. Also, this is me and Quincy’s sushi, this aint’ for sharin’, not even you Jerry.”
“Aw c’mon, ain’t I family?” Scout pleaded, which got a scoff and eye roll from Albert as he walked in and sat down with the group, not noticing, or more accurately, not caring about the odd looks he was getting. “Yeah, but you’ve given me too much of a headache today, so you can suffer… Ya know what, Sniper, right? You can have some sushi if ya want, you’ve had a helluva headache today too.”
“Uh… thanks.” Sniper said, now awkwardly putting his gun back in its hiding place, along with the rest of the team.

“Anyhow… By the way, I’m Albert, I’m your pilot, and I’m those two ding dong’s bigger brother, and I’m terribly sorry about the fact that they ain’t know how to properly communicate, I partially blame myself for their upbringin’, so I’ll also be apologizing on both’a their behalfs. I'm sorry.” Albert greeted as he grabbed a beer, quickly downing it before going for the sushi he brought. “Apology accepted lad, no hard feelin’s.” Demo said jokingly, which got Albert to give him an odd look, before shrugging absentmindedly.

“Sorry bout that, the accent caught me off guard.” He apologized, to which Demo simply shrugged and said, “Ay, it happens more than ya think.”
“I bet, but hey, that makes ya memorable, with a good personality to boot.”
“Ya’ve hardly known me a minute! Ya can’t possibly determine that so easily, though I am flattered ya think so.”
“Sure I can, ya gotta good smile, ya can run with a joke, and Quincy’s taken a likin’ to ya, that’s all I need to know.”

“Al!” Quincy seethed quietly, his face turning beet red as Albert simply smirked to himself as he and Scout shared a knowing look. “Well I’m glad to hear that,” Demo stated cheerily, none the wiser, “I would hate to be bad company, especially on such short notice.”
“Trust me pal, ain’t no way Q’s turnin’ your ass away.”
“AL!!!” Quincy quietly shouted, though Albert simply shared a laugh with Scout as they shared knowing looks again, before laughing even harder.

Seeing this, Medic couldn’t help but absentmindedly wonder if that’s what he looked like whenever he was around Spy back in the day. A part of him definitely knew he had.

“Well, I’m glad to see you two getting along.” Quincy stated through gritted teeth, a fake smile on his face as he tried to hold composure, despite his terribly red face. “Alright, alright I’m sorry, I’ll stop now.” Albert apologized as his laughter quieted, giving one last sigh before continuing to eat his sushi. “Though really, I’m kinda surprised to see you and Jerry actually in the same room again, though it is nice to see. Man, I wish all the guy’s were here… Except Tommy, Tommy can go fuck himself.”

“... Ya know, it probably ain’t my business,” Sniper said as he caved and grabbed some of the sushi that was offered to him, “but what exactly happened between you guys? I mean, yeah, Scout’s kind of a dick sometimes, but it seems like he did something really bad this time round, so what was it?”

At first, none of the Willis brothers said a word, simply silently looking between each other for confirmation that it was ok to progress with the story, before Scout ultimately nodded and gave them the ok. “You sure Jerry? We ain’t gotta bring it up if you don’t want us to.” Quincy asked gravely, a bit of apprehension in his voice, truly wanting to make sure it was ok. “Go for it,” Scout said as he got himself comfortable, “I ain’t the same dick I was then, and we’s all grown ass men, I can own up to the shit I did.”

“Ok…” Quincy said hesitantly, before clearing his throat awkwardly and explaining to Sniper, “Well, ya see… back in the day, when I was around thirteen, and Jerry was about seven… I came out to my Ma, but only cause I thought I was going insane. She was surprisingly supportive and helpful, which made me feel good enough to tell my brothers… which ended up being a mistake at the time…”

At that, Scout shifted a bit awkwardly, and began to fidget with his dog tags while looking everywhere but Quincy. “My older brother Tommy… Well he instantly took to calling me a faggot every chance he got, along with just generally making my life hell… and Jerry was impressionable.”
“You didn’t.” Spy stated in horror as he stared at Scout, who sucked in some breath through his teeth, his fidgeting increasing. “He did…” Quincy continued, now spinning his beer around while staring at it, “He refused to call me Quincy, and instead called me faggot… for five years…”

“SCOUT!” Sniper shouted in absolute horror, and truly, Medic couldn’t recall a time he’d seen Sniper so emotional. “I was younger! I was dumber! I thought I was being cool like Tommy! I’m sorry!” Scout cried out in distress, trying his very best to simply get away from the judgemental stares of his teammates. “He was one of the reasons I moved out as early as I did,” Quincy said a bit quietly, still watching his liquid intently, “Ma and Albert tried to get him and Tom to at least be cordial, but uh… yeah…Up until a few weeks ago, I hadn’t talked to him properly since Christmas of ‘61… Really, I wasn’t sure I’d ever talk to him again after that…”

“Hey, he’s a changed man, he owned up, they talked it out like men,” Albert stated factually upon seeing the stares not letting up, “you lot wanna judge ‘im for some crap he pulled when he was a dumbass teenager, you’re gonna have beef with me too. Ain’t Jerry’s fault Tommy fucked ‘im up, ok? He thought it was cool to be all gangster, and he ran with a bad crowd, but he’s cleaned up now, well, cleaned up as much as a wanted man can be, so pick up your jaws off the floor, and enjoy the dinner while it’s still hot.”

No one said anything for a moment, simply looking between Scout, Albert, and Quincy, trying to figure out the next best thing to say. In truth, while Medic was a bit mortified to hear about Scout’s treatment of his brother, he couldn’t deny that not only was Albert right, but that nothing about Scout ever indicated any sort of hatred or mal thought towards his and Spy’s relationship. Really, he never would’ve guessed the young man had ever been like that before that moment, so he figured he had no right to judge him for his past actions.

“Thanks Al.” Scout said quietly, his fidgeting slowing as Albert reached over and placed an assuring hand on his shoulder, an action that Quincy quickly copied. Seeing the three brothers connecting like that was the final piece that allowed Medic to breathe again, for he knew that if Scout really still held his past thoughts, then he and his brothers wouldn’t be so close. Sure, Quincy might’ve let him stay the night for family’s sake, but he never would’ve comforted him as he did now, nor would he show such apprehension in sharing his brother's past actions if the young man hadn’t changed.

The final thing that helped everyone relax was Pyro, who upon seeing the brothers tender moment, decided that since he basically counted as Scout's brother at that point, that he should join in, promptly going and embracing all three men in a big hug. “Aw, thanks man!” Scout said as he hugged Pyro back, and while Quincy stayed quiet, he did smile and simply accept the moment for what it was. Albert on the other hand, didn’t really know who, or what, Pyro was, and was thrown off by the strangers embrace.

“Okokok, git off me pal! Git off!” Albert cried out as he tried to break free, only to cry out in further distress as the other three quickly grabbed on and hugged him at once. “I SAID GIT OFF ME YA FREAKIN’ IDIOTS!” Albert shouted, but he was ultimately trapped, though after a moment all but Scout got off of him, as he was simply content to sit on top of him smuggly.

“... Ima give ya to the count of ten to git off me, before I fuckin’ anialate you.”
“Yeah, how ya gonna do that? I’m probably the better fighter at this point anyway, seein’ as I’ve been doin’ nothing but beatin’ the crap outta-”
“One, two, ten!”

Medic didn’t even have a chance to blink before Albert had flipped Scout over, got up, stood on him, then grabbed his arm and twisted it almost to the point of dislocating it, promptly pinning the young man down.

“Honestly, I’m not sure what you were expecting to happen.” Quincy stated as he moved some stuff away from the brawling brothers, all while Scout cried out in both pain and distress. “Say it.” Albert ordered, still holding down Scout, not moving an inch. “Uh… I’m freakin’ taller than you!” Scout shouted triumphantly, before crying out again as Albert twisted his arm further, his eyes narrowing as he did so. “Alright, alright! You’re the bigger brother, you’re the bigger brother!!!”

“Ok, that’s good, but because ya made that stupid ass comment, now ya gotta say the other thing.” Albert ordered, relenting a little on his grip, but by no means loosening it all the way. “What other thing, that’s the sentence, right? That’s the, ‘I give up, you win’, quote, right? Wait… NO FUCKING WAY!!!”
“Say it.”
“I REFUSE!!! I WON’T DO IT!!!”
“Say. It.”

Scout continued to struggle for some time, all while the rest of the team watched curiously, with Heavy smirking as he shared a look with Quincy, after all, these were things only people with younger siblings understood.

Finally though, Scout relented, and with a loud, furious groan, he turned to look Albert in the eye and said with the utmost reluctance, “Alright! Alright!... Ima bastard, I’m a freakin’ bastard, ya happy?”
“And don’t ever forget it.” Albert ordered with a smug grin, before he let go and stepped off, now offering his hand to Scout to help him up. “Fuckin’ jerk.” Scout muttered as he took Alberts hand, who helped him to his feet, still smiling, much more genuinely this time.

“What an excellent display of idiocracy from the both of you,” Spy commented as he again went to light a cigarette, again just barely catching himself as he put it away, “truly, I feel so safe knowing my life is in your hands.”
“Ya should,” Albert declared as he settled down to eat again, along with Scout, “you just watched me beat the crap outta one’a the best mercs money can buy, that outta mean somethin’ to ya… Spy, right?”
“That would be correct, but I hardly think Scout is one of the best.” Spy continued, causing Medic to give him a disappointed look. “Hey, just cause he’s a dumbass don’t mean he ain’t a good guy, he can’t help it that he inherited his dads bad brain, cause he sure as fuck didn’t get it from our Ma.”

Oddly enough, that comment shut Spy up instantly, as he simply took a deep breath, before giving a forced looking smile and saying, “I suppose you are correct… Albert.” The only response Albert gave was a single raised eyebrow, before he nodded and went back to eating, simply giving a quick shrug as he relaxed into the evening.

Medic couldn't quite place it, but something was definitely bothering Spy now, and it no longer had to do with all of their previous woes. No, no something had just happened, but what had happened was beyond him, there just wasn’t anything that should’ve caused his shift in attitude. Maybe he just didn’t like Albert? That happened from time to time, two people simply not liking each other, but this felt… different. It felt oddly… personal.

“... Is it ok if Heavy asks question?” Heavy asked apprehensively, an air of awkwardness around him. “Go for it.” Albert said, handing Scout a single piece of sushi as an official peace offering, which he gladly accepted. “Ok… Is going to be rude question, so I am sorry,” Heavy continued, causing all three brothers to look at each other knowingly, “but I must ask… what is family situation? Do any of you share father? Why… Oh never mind, is too rude…”

“Don’t worry, it's a question we get a lot when we’re all in the same room,” Quincy assured with a smile, “and no, none of us share a dad, so we all look… well, different. Jerry’s the only one of us that looks the most like Ma, the rest of us tend to unfortunately take after our dads a bit more.”
“Ah, makes sense now,” Heavy stated as he nodded, “tell me, how many brothers are there?”
“Eight.”

Medic, who had been enjoying his drink when the answer was given, nearly spit it out in pure shock, as well as at the implications that Scout’s mother had, well, done it with eight different men. “Yeah… big number,” Quincy admitted a bit sheepishly, while Heavy just stared at him wide eyed, “our Ma, uh, made some poor choices.”

“She was a whore.” Albert stated nonchalantly, causing Quincy to go slack jawed, while this time Sniper choked on his sushi. “Albert freakin’ Willis, you did not just say that!” Quincy exclaimed with absolute horror. “What?!? Did I lie? Did I make some false statement? I don’t think so.” Albert quickly defended, merely earning an unbelieving scoff from his brother.

“Hey, the way I see it, I was mistake number one,” Albert stated as he continued to eat, “after that, she shoulda learned her lesson. I love ‘er, I love ‘er to death, but come on, seven more kids??? From seven different shitty ass men??? One shoulda been enough, but no, she didn’t learn, and now I gotta deal with you fucks.”

“Love you too, Al.” Scout said flatly, clearly terribly unamused by his brothers' take on their life situation. “Hey, that’s the facts, and I stand by ‘em,” Albert continued with a shrug, “nothin’ I can do about it, nothin’ you can do about it, we’re all born outta wedlock, sucks to suck.”
“So… one could say you’re a bastard?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“Sorry.”

“Wait a bloody minute… How old’s yar mum?” Demo asked as politely as he could, “I know it’s a rude question, but I’m just noticin’ that you lot are awfully close in age, and that’s worryin’ me a little.”
“It should,” Albert stated nonchalantly, “we’re all eighteen months apart, Ma had me when she was fifteen, she’s fifty one nowadays, give or take.”

“What.” Scout uttered out in sheer horror, and when Medic looked closely, he saw the color draining from the young man's face. “Yeah, she thought she was really fuckin’ smart,” Albert continued solemnly his own energy finally dying down a little, “thought she had love all figured out, so when some thirty year old prick started hittin’ her up and being all romantic, hell, she thought it was love… ‘til she got stuck with me anyhow, the love ended real quick after that.”

“Jesus Christ…” Sniper muttered in horror as he ran a hand through his hair, “that’s fucked up… Holy shit, that’s really fucked up…”
“Yep, then she went and had seven more kids,” Albert declared before pouring himself some wine, “age gaps didn’t get much better from there as far as I’m concerned, but hey, whaddo I know?”

As Albert drank, the rest of the group sat in silence, simply absorbing the bomb that had been dropped on them. They all knew Scout had siblings, but he hadn’t talked about them much, nor had he mentioned the exact number he had, so no one exactly knew what his home life had really been growing up. Sure, he’d talked about his family from time to time, but never in depth, though knowing what they knew now, that made sense. Still, they could only imagine what the young man's home life must’ve been given how young his mother was, a thought that chilled each and every one of them to the bone.

“... I didn’t know he was thirty…” Quincy said quietly, clearly still processing his own realizations. “Yeah, well, that’s oldest kid privileges for ya,” Albert explained with a shrug, though his eyes showed just how furious he really felt, “ya get to know a bit more, see a bit more… understand a bit more… That’s life.”

At that moment, when Medic looked closely at Albert, he saw him, he truly saw him for who he was, the oldest son who had to grow up far too quickly, who had to help raise his brothers, who understood more about life and its cruelties than he ever would. He saw a man who would lay his life down in a heartbeat for his family, who had sacrificed everything for his family, a man who was strong and wise beyond his years, and who had been for a long, long time.

It hit Medic that perhaps he had joined the military out of necessity, and not out of desire.

As this realization dawned on Medic, he allowed himself a moment to compose his heart and mind, before he looked at Albert, and with a mix or pride, assurance, and sympathy, he said, “Well, your mother sounds like a very strong woman, and you sound like a very strong son. You should be proud of yourself, not many would have turned out as well as you have given your situation. Not many would have helped raise that many boys, and from what I’ve seen, you did an excellent job with them. You should be proud.”

Hearing this, Albert gave a smile and a quick nod, truly appreciating and taking to heart Medic’s words of affirmation. “Thanks pal.” was all he said in response, though with those two words alone he was able to convey just how much he meant his gratitude. It was then that Medic knew that from then on, he could truly trust Scout’s judgement, as well as whatever crazy plans he had, after all, he’d just led them to one of best people they could have in their current situation.

“He’s right ya know,” Demo stated with a genuine smile, “ya did good by yar family lad, ya did real good.”
“Ok, ok, enough’a that, alright?” Albert asked with a quick laugh, a bit embarrassed by the attention, “I didn’t mean to get all serious just then, it’s just kinda a sore subject for me, ya know? Didn’t mean to get so deep.”

“Well, Heavy is sorry for bringing it up,” Heavy apologized, well and truly meaning it, “did not mean to upset you.”
“Hey, it’s no problem big guy,” Albert quickly assured, “like Q said, it’s a common question we get, and like I said, our no good dads are a sore spot for me.”

“Hey, hey Al, ya know what you should do?” Scout suddenly asked, unusually giddy given the previous mood. “What?” Albert asked curiously. “Well, since ya brought the mood down, you should bring it back up again, and ya know how you should do that?”
“Uh, no?”
“You should do the thing.”

“‘The thing?’ What the fuck are you… Oh c’mon dude, no one wants me to do that.” Albert argued, before drinking some more wine. “I do! Quin does too, right Quin?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Quincy confirmed with excitement, “c’mon Al, it’s funny! I haven’t heard you do it in years!”
“Yeah, yeah c’mon Al! Do the thing!”
“Yeah, do it Al!”

“Do what?” Sniper asked curiously, taking the bait hook, line, and sinker. “Ok, ok you’re gonna love this,” Scout explained while Albert rolled his eyes, “so back in the day, we all used to make theories about who our dads were, and Albert was the best at it! Like, he always came up with the best shit about who they were and what happened to ‘em, used to make me and my brothers laugh our asses off!”

“I haven't done that since you were ten!” Albert protested wearily, but his tone didn’t dissuade his brothers one bit. “Do it Al! Freaking do it!” Scout pressed eagerly, quickly being joined by both Quincy and Pyro as they began to chant, ‘do it!’ excitedly.

Truth be told, Medic was interested to hear what Albert had to say about him and his brothers' absent fathers, if only to help lighten the mood.

Demo and Soldier clearly were too, as they too began to join in on the chant.

“Alright, Alright! I’ll do it!” Albert finally caved, causing the chanters to all cheer and huddle closer around him, waiting eagerly for his thoughts and theories. “Now, how do you guys want me to do this? Chronologically, or my personal favorites?”
“Chronologically please!” Quincy asked, to which Albert nodded in agreement as he poured himself some more wind.

“Alrighty then, that makes my dad first…” he muttered thoughtfully, a sly smirk crossing his face, though it seemed just a bit out of place for some reason. “Now then, my dad’s some Puerto Rican asshole who originally came to Boston for some kinda business venture, I’m assumin’ he was attractive back in the day, hence my handsome mug, but he got real fat’n ugly lookin’ cause he started drinkin’ real heavy… I’m bettin’ he tragically passed away in some kinda bar fight, cause that’s how those fucks usually go.”

“Is that fact, or fiction?” Quincy asked quizzically, now starting to get really invested. “Bitta both,” Albert admitted, “I’m usin’ both what I heard from Ma, and my own personal theories. I like to imagine all our dads died tragically in some way or another, makes me feel better.”
“Really?” Sniper asked, oddly invested in the stories for some reason, “Well go on then, ya got my attention.”

“Ok, ok lemme see, Tommy’s next… Tommy’s dad was a Sicilian mobster who was down in Boston ‘takin’ care of business’ as they put it, he had a funny voice that was too high pitched for how he looked, and crooked nose from a bad fight. He couldn’t play poker to save his life, real heavy hittin’ dumbass sorta guy, and I’m guessin’ he tragically died cause he got drunk and fell off’a bridge in New York City… but he really got offed by the mob cause he fucked up.”

“C’mon man, this ain’t as funny as it used to be!” Scout protested disappointedly, and was quickly joined by Pyro in agreement. “Hey, I’m bein’ realistic, some’a this shit is facts.” Albert stated seriously, which instantly grabbed Scout’s attention again.

“Anyhow, then there’s Q’s dad… Q’s dad was a well-to-do Norwegian businessman who sold… I dunno, he probably sold beds or some shit to cover up his money laundering schemes, who was in Boston for, you guessed it, business. Anyhow, I think was into fishin’, like really into fishin’, but he went overboard in some kinda badass storm, never to be seen again. Fish food.”

“Really? That’s my dad?” Quincy asked disappointedly, but Albert merely shrugged in response. “Dunno whatcha want me to say pal, that’s life.”
“Keep goin’, keep goin’!” Scout urged, as the rest of the team was now listening intently, Spy especially for some odd reason.

“Ok, that makes Benny next… Benny’s dad was a Japanese tourist who was in Boston for vacation, and got really into it with the whole, ‘havin’ the American experience’, which meant doin’ our Ma. Anyhow, I dunno if he’s dead yet or not, but I’d like to think that if he does kick the bucket, it’ll be because he ate an ill-cooked pufferfish. That’ll be a slow, painful death, dontcha think?”

“And a racist one, c’mon Al.” Quincy scolded, which merely got an uncaring shrug from Albert.

“Ok, ok, that means Logans up… Logan’s dad was a wanna be musician from Ohio, who thought he was talented with a clarinet, but he really sounded like ass. He passed ‘cause he hit it with too many girls, and one of ‘em found out about his many flings and shoved his clarinet down his throat, all the way down to his ass. I think I saw a pic of ‘im in the papers shortly after it happened, real gross.”

“How come my dad’s story wasn’t that ridiculous?” Quincy asked disappointed. “Hey, don’t kill the messenger, that’s just how it goes.”
“Freaking Unbelievable.”

“Whatever… Anyhow, Jim’n Roy’s dad’s next, they’s twin’s if ya didn’t catch the ‘and’, but I digress. Jim’n Roy’s dad… I dunno, I get the very distinct feelin’ that he’s a southern guy, and he was up in Boston… hmm… I think he was up in Boston to study history, and ended up studyin’ our Ma. I think if he were to die, it’d be because he got eaten by an alligator while noodlin’ for catfish, but that’s just a hunch.”

“Noodling for catfish?” Medic asked, trying, and failing, to understand how those two words could possibly coexist, and what exactly they even meant. “It’s a southern thing, I’m not even gonna try and explain it.” Albert stated before drinking some more wine, leaving Medic just a bit more confused than he originally had been.

“Right, Mark’s dad… Marks dad was one’a the founding hippies of his era, the type’a guy who helped mainstream pot if ya catch my drift, as well as introduce dread locks to white folks, and help invent tye dye shirts… it’s actually a wonder he ain’t Q’s dad, but again, I digress. I reckon he bit the dust when he tried to find an easier way of makin’ cocaine, and blew himself up. He made a terrible mess of himself doin’ that, really, it was messy.”

“Oh, I’m sure Mark would love to hear that latest theory.” Quincy commented with a sly smile. “He’d be bitchin’ about it the whole time, I garen-fuckin’-tee it.” Albert stated with a hint of annoyance, reaching for his own pack of cigarettes absentmindedly.

“Ok, my turn! My turn!” Scout exclaimed excitedly, practically bouncing as he waited impatiently for Albert to give his thoughts on his own dad. “Lemme guess, lemme guess! My dad was a handsome, smart, wicked charmin’ fella who was madly in love with Ma, just sweepin’ ‘er off ‘er feet and being the best guy ever! However, he died tragically in some unknown accident, probably cause he was savin’ the world from the leftover Nazi’s or some shit, but he was a totally badass dude, right Al?”

“... Not even close.” Albert declared bluntly as he lit a cigarette, now focusing his attention on that instead of Scout. “What!?! Oh c’mon, you know it’s true! You’re just jealous my dad’s the best outta all the other jerk offs!”
“I’m tellin’ ya man, ya got it all wrong. Your dad’s the only one that I have any definitive knowledge of, that cannot be argued whatsoever.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s probably that he’s some big circus clown that my fucked when she was drunk, right?”
“Nope.”
“Ok then wise guy, who was he? What’s his nationality, since that seems to be where your best guesses are at.”

“Easy,” Albert declared, releasing some smoke into the room as he did so, “he’s French.”

Chapter Text

Spy choked.

It was as simple as that, he choked on his drink.

The words, ‘he’s French’, had simply frozen him to his very core, in a way that words simply fail to truly describe. To put it in the simplest terms, the blood in his veins had run dry, his ever moving, never silent mind had been promptly shut down, and that constant, never ending action of breathing had been paused as his entire reality crashed around him. It felt as though his very soul had been shaken.

That was a sentence he’d never expected to hear, sure, he figured Albert might allude to some more mysterious figure, something greater than the rest of his brothers' idiotic fathers, but he hadn’t expected him to hit the answer right on the mark. That was not supposed to happen, Albert wasn’t supposed to know that, how did he know that? Everything had gone incredibly still, the world itself seemingly holding her breath as for the first time in a long time, Spy properly panicked.

However, the liquid he’d been drinking hadn’t paused, and instead, with nothing properly directing it, it had gone right into his lungs.

Thus, Spy choked.

“Meine Gott, are you alright?” Medic quickly asked, all while Spy continued to hack up the cheap beer he’d been trying to enjoy, his lungs and throat burning, his heart in his throat, despite how terribly heavy it had just become. Soon though, it started beating again, and it beat faster, and faster, and faster, as a cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck, his body feeling terribly numb.

At first Spy attempted to give some assurance that he was alright, but he just couldn’t find the words, nor the breath. The words, ‘he’s French’, simply kept playing on repeat in his head, chilling him in a way he hadn’t felt in decades.

“Albert freaking Willis, you put that thing out right now! You know how I feel about smoking in my house!” Quincy ordered swiftly, sounding terribly disappointed in his brother. “Sorry, sorry,” Albert quickly apologized as he snuffed out his cigarette, “bad habit, won’t happen again.”

“Aw c’mon!” Scout cried out in disappointment, just as Spy had found his breath, “Why the fuck’s my dad gotta be French! That’s so freakin’ lame! Also, what the hell Spy. ya just spat beer everywhere!”

“My-my apologies, it went down the wrong pipe,” Spy stammered out, still coughing a little as he did so while Medic comforted him, “let me- let me get something to clean that with, I’m so terribly sorry.”
“Oh, don’t even worry about it, I’ll just grab some paper towels,” Quincy assured as he got up, “I’ll clean the rest out of the carpet tomorrow, you just focus on relaxing, and don’t worry about the mess, these things happen from time to time.”
“M-merci, mon Dieu that burns…”

“What’s wrong, can’t hold your liquor?” Albert teased with a sly smirk, before drinking some wine and getting himself into a more comfortable position, which irked Spy beyond reason.

From the moment that man had walked into the room, Spy hadn’t liked him, not one bit. Something about him just rubbed him the wrong way, the way he talked, his crooked smile, his mustache, his orderly appearance mixed with his crude personality, how he addressed everyone in the room, his constant swearing, his immaturities mixed with actual well-earned wisdom, and the unmistakable air of arrogance.

This was a man who believed himself to be the smartest man in the room, who acted like he was the smartest man in the room, who made others believe he was the smartest man in the room. Albert Willis gave off the impression that he knew more than he would ever say, that he had done more than he would ever admit, that he was wiser than he actually was.

The worst part about this man?

Spy couldn’t find a tell.

Nothing about him gave away any sign of self-doubt, of lies, or of unfounded arrogance, he simply existed as he was, seemingly unconcerned with the opinions of those around him. When Spy looked to him for any sign of weakness, for any sign of self-doubt, for any sign of pure, unadulterated stupidity, he found none. He wasn’t arrogant, he was sure of himself. He wasn’t immature, he simply didn’t care. He addressed everyone as an equal because he saw everyone as an equal.

Unlike every other man Spy had encountered, Albert hid nothing, he simply was, and Spy didn’t like that. A man that was entirely certain of himself, a man with no doubts, a man who knew himself and accepted himself was the most dangerous thing in the world to a man like Spy, because he could smell a liar like him from a mile away.

This was Scout’s brother? This was the man who would lead them to Australia? This was the man he’d be forced to be with for the foreseeable future? It would be torture, it would be absolute torture, having to contend with another man who believed himself to be the smartest man in the room. That wasn’t a title Spy liked to share, he didn’t like having to think about another man being smarter than him, knowing more than him, somehow being better than him.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t like smart men, after all, he couldn’t stand idiots, but there was a difference between a smart man, and a smart man who was comfortable in his own skin. A smart man who was comfortable in his own skin had no problems calling out lies, had no problems setting things straight, and had absolutely no reservations about whose feelings were hurt in the process of being honest. Self-assured men were a problem for Spy, because they didn’t care for snakes like himself, nor for the secrets and lies he would kill to protect.

Of course, not all self-assured men were like this, several members of his team proved as much, but Albert was different from them. Demo was self-assured, but he was humble, too humble, and he wouldn’t flaunt himself for fear of offending another, or giving off the impression that he was an ass. Heavy was a self-assured man, but he was quiet, he was aware of his size and stature, and more importantly, how others perceived him for it. That wasn’t to say that he was afraid of using his size to his advantage, but in a more civilized setting, the man knew that just being in the room garnered respect, and him opening his mouth could turn that respect into fear, and he didn’t want that.

Engineer was a self-assured man, but he was calculating, and he didn’t show it because it let others be their true selves, it let others show their weaknesses, it let others make fools of themselves. By not showing his true confidence with himself, Engineer could often read rooms and people in a matter of seconds, hell, even Spy had fallen for his quiet, southern mannerisms, underestimating the man and his intelligence severely when they’d first met. Of course, he’d quickly learned just how frighteningly smart Engineer was the hard way, when he got ripped a new one for making one too many sly comments and insults, a lesson he would never forget.

Then there was Albert, who was a self-assured man, but he didn’t hide it, which made him look arrogant, a farce Spy had fallen for. He’d figured the man was intelligent, but not like this, not so openly bold.

In all honesty, it reminded him of Charlotte, that uncaring, bold, cocky nature that hid a truly brilliant mind. Albert was his mother's son, something Spy should’ve seen the moment he walked into the room, the moment he smiled, the moment he saw those sky-blue eyes shine at the sight of his brothers.

Then there was that comment, ‘he’s French’, said without a care in the world, said without hardly a thought, said as though it meant nothing, but clearly, it meant everything. Why else would he declare so boldly that Scout’s father was the only one he had definitive proof of? Why else would he be so relaxed as he dropped that bomb? Why else would he be acting so God damned arrogant?

That, and there was something about the man's eyes that sent a chill down Spy’s spine, a deep, cold, violent chill. When he looked into Alberts eyes, he saw a killer, but not a snake, never a snake. No, no something in that man’s eyes was wrong, calculating, and patient, ever so patient. Patient for what though? To turn them in? To wait out the long game? Something else entirely?

Spy himself was a patient man, or more accurately, a patient killer, but with such patience came purpose, a reason to be patient. For him, a paycheck, nothing more, nothing less, so then why did Albert need to be patient? He was a soldier, not an assassin, why did a soldier have the look of a killer in his eyes?

What wasn’t being said? What was this arrogant bastard waiting for? Why did he think he was the smartest man in the room?

No, that was the wrong question, and Spy hated that, he hated that he had to ask a more frightening question. No, the question he needed to ask himself was this:

What made Albert Willis the smartest man in the room?

“Dude, why’s my dad gotta be French, huh?” Scout demanded to know, seemingly both offended and irked, which didn’t really surprise Spy too much, “How the hell ya know for certain he’s French, and not full blooded American, huh wise guy?”
“First off, ain’t no such thing as a full blooded American, we all come from fuckin’ immigrants,” Albert replied as he began to help Quincy clean up the mess Spy had made, “second off, lemme answer your question with another question. What’s the one thing about your dad’s story that has never changed since you were five?”
“... I dunno…”
“Yeah ya do, stop actin’ dumb.”
“... That he’s French.”

“Bingo,” Albert declared while pointing at Scout, “and you wanna know how I know he’s French?”
“Cause you’re makin’ dumbass assumptions?”
“Wrong, cause I met the fucker, and so did you.”

Met him? What was he talking about? Spy had never seen this man in his life, what kind of sick… Oh… Right…

They had met before, once, a long, long time ago.

“Man, you’re fulla shit,” Scout scoffed with a wave of his hand, “that wasn’t my dad, that was some guy, nothin’ more.”
“Nuh uh, that was him, I know it.” Albert replied calmly, sounding so terribly sure of himself, but nothing in his eyes gave away any more information. The control this man had over himself was infuriating, probably intentional too. He had to know the truth, but how? What was he playing at? Or was this all in his own head, and he was just being paranoid. He hoped he was just being paranoid.

“Outta curiosity, whatcha talkin’ about?” Sniper asked far too innocently for Spy’s liking, causing him to give his good friend a rather nasty side-eye, though if Sniper saw it, he ignored it, but he most certainly shifted a bit further away from Spy. “I’m talkin’ about when I met Jerry’s dad, that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Albert clarified pointedly, “and lemme tell ya, he ain’t nothin’ special, but I bet he thinks he is, the fucker.”
“Ya don’t say?” Sniper stated with all to convincing curiosity, just barely hiding a grin, as Spy just barely held back from slapping him upside the head.

“Dude, you don’t know it was him, you’re just assumin’ he was.” Scout argued back, though Albert merely rolled his eyes in response. “I dunno Jerry,” Quincy said a bit skeptically, “I’m pretty sure it was him, I mean, why else would he have there to save your ass?”
“He wasn’t savin’ my ass! He was takin’ care of the other guy, who was probably there for Ma!”

“I’m sorry, what are you all talking about?” Medic asked, causing Spy to just barely stifle a weary sigh, not wanting to hear about his greatest mistake from the likes of Albert, who most certainly had a very different perspective of the events that occurred that fateful night. “I’m talkin’ about when some fucker tried to kill my Ma and five-year-old Jerry, only to be stopped by Jerry’s guilt-stricken dad.” Albert stated, far too calmly for the situation he was describing. “Now, credit where credit is due, he showed up, but man, he left just as quick.”

Spy remembered that night, the night he truly left Charlotte… and Jeremy…

“Lemme tell ya what happened, and buckle up, cause it’s a wild ass story,” Albert said with a glint in his eyes, though what exactly it was for remained unknown to Spy, “and it all starts on what was supposed to be the best night of my life, the night where I was supposed to be only watchin’ Jim’n Roy, the night where I was finally gonna be practically alone.

“It was perfect, Ma was workin’ a night shift, everyone had a sleepover on the same night, save the twins, but they’re easy to watch, give ‘em a set of Legos and they’re occupied for the night, I was gonna have the night all to myself.”

Spy recalled the hour when he learned Charlotte was in danger, when he learned that one of his enemies had figured out his secret, his shame… his lover… He’d raced to Boston as fast as he could, trying to beat him, trying to save her, trying to actually be there for her… as much as he was willing to anyway…

“Then, just as everything was going perfectly, Jerry’s friend, fuck what his name… Riley! That’s it! Jerry’s friend Riley went and got the stomach bug last second, so I got stuck with Jerry and the twins, and lemme tell you what, you think Jerry’s got energy now? You shoulda seen that prick when he was five, bouncin’ off the goddamn walls!”

Pierre, that had been his name, and he’d discovered that Spy had been sending monthly checks to Charlotte through some amateur investigating, and as any good spy would, the man had gone to take out Spy’s weakness, use it against him, or lure him into a trap. He didn’t know what he’d been planning for certain, because his plan had never come to fruition.

“So there I was, fifteen-year-old me tryin’ to keep Jerry from tearin’ the place to the ground while Jim’n Roy played with Legos, it was around ten pm, when all of a sudden, there’s this knock on the door. Now, I figure someone else’s sleepover got canceled due to a sick kid, so I went and answered it without much thought, and there’s this weirdo standin’ there, all menicin’ and shit.”

Spy had tried to take a taxi, but the traffic had been too intense, so he’d ran. He’d ran as fast as he could, his lungs burning, his legs aching, his mind spiraling into a million what ifs, a million worst case scenarios, a million images of his lover and child dead and cold.

“He asked if he could see my Ma, I told ‘im she wasn’t home, he asked where she worked, I told ‘im to fuck off, the asshole said it was important, I told ‘im to fuck off, he said he didn’t like my attitude, ya wanna know what I said? I told ‘im to fuck off, and lemme tell you what, he was gettin’ pissed off, but I wasn’t scared yet, after all, I was lookin’ at some short, French bastard with a comically large mustache, who I assumed had just been stalkin’ my Ma, and lemme tell ya, I knew how to fight. I wasn’t worried.”

Spy had been terrified, for Pierre had been older and wiser than him, and he’d had a vendetta against him, a personal one at that, but that had been his fault. He’d been arrogant, he’d hurt Pierre, badly, he’d caused wounds he shouldn't have, messed with business he had no place messing with, in short, he’d messed up badly. He thought he’d covered his tracks, he never imagined that Charlotte would be considered a target, not until it was too late anyhow…

“Then, Jerry showed up behind me and started talkin’ a mile a minute, askin’ this asshole question after question, I mean the boy did not know how to read a room. Granted, he was five, but still. Then, somethin’ freaky happened, somethin’ I’ll never forget, even when I’m at the end’a my days.”

If Spy could’ve taken back his actions against Pierre, he would’ve done so in a heartbeat. He’d wanted to make a name for himself, he’d wanted to show he was someone worth remembering, he’d wanted to move beyond the shadow of his mentors and predecessors. He’d wanted glory.

“This asshole looked at Jerry, and he froze. This asshole looked at my brother, and I saw in his eye's recognition… before he smiled. God almighty, I will never forget that smile… It was evil, pure fuckin’ evil, and it was directed right at Jerry… I knew then and there I was gonna have to kill that asshole, even if it cost me my life.”

Pierre never let his vendetta’s go unanswered, and they always ended with a message, a brutal, cold, intentional message. That monster never just killed, he mauled, he ravaged, he destroyed. Death was never good enough for him, no, it always had to be a step further. There always had to be a message.

“I told Jerry to go to his room, and like the high energy idiot he was, Jerry said he wanted to stay and see what was goin’ on, so I snapped at ‘im somethin’ fierce, and he went to his room pretty quick after that, so it was just me and the asshole. This motherfucker looked at me, and said if I let ‘im have Jerry, he’d leave me alone, so you wanna know what I did? I punched ‘im, I punched him as hard as I could, right on his kisser, then I shut the door and locked it.”

Credit where credit was due, Albert had some balls doing that, and that would explain the state he would find Pierre in when he did eventually arrive.

“I shouted for Jerry to hide, and told Jim’ Roy to get outta the house, and to not stop runnin’ till they found some cops. See, we didn’t have a phone in the house, otherwise I woulda called, but I digress. Anyhow, I tried to get to Ma’s room to grab the gun outta her drawer, but I heard the door break down, so I grabbed the next best thing, that bein’ a bat, and ran back to face the asshole.”

That fight hadn’t ended well, Spy recalled that part rather clearly.

“I swung, and knocked the gun outta his hand before he could blow my brains out, but he swung back with a set of iron knuckles, hit me in the gut. I got myself together before he could get me again, and shouted for Jerry to get Ma’s gun, before I swung again, missin’ him entirely, but he didn’t miss. Nope, that asshole clocked me right in the head, all but knocked me cold… I don’t remember much after that, just bits and pieces. I remember wantin’ to scream, wantin’ to get up, wantin’ to stop ‘im from walkin’ into my home, but I just lay there, starin’ at the wall and moanin’ like an idiot… and he went right in like he owned the place, stepped over me and everythin’, like I wasn’t the one helpin’ to earn the goddamn rent.”

Spy had run into the home hardly a minute later, and he remembered seeing Albert laying on the ground, blood staining the hair on the left side of his head and face, his body useless to him, yet his face held nothing but determination as he tried to stand, tried to fight, tried to protect his brother. What had scared Spy the most was how all the lights were off in the house, how Pierre had intentionally done that to scare Jeremy, to give him more control.

“Then, I met Jerry’s dad, I know I did, ain’t no way it wasn’t him. I don’t know what he looked like, it got dark outta nowhere, and I had blood in my eyes, but I remember his voice…. Fuck, I will never forget his voice… French, just like the other asshole, but he was desperate, scared even… Fuck man, he was terrified, and he kept askin’ where Jerry was, what happened, stuff like that… I don’t really remember what I said, or if I said anything at all, but the next thing I knew, the fucker was gone.”

Albert had said Jeremy was in their mother's room, and that he needed to save him, that he needed to get up. He’d begged Spy to help him get up, to help him keep his brother safe. Spy had run into the house, leaving Albert alone, hardly caring about what happened to him after that, just needing to know that Jeremy was ok, that he wasn’t paying for his actions.

He’d found Pierre in seconds, just as he was entering Charlotte's room, and he’d shot at him without thinking, feeling something in that moment that he’d never felt before in his life. It had felt like anger, but deeper, fear, but stronger, love… yet it had been so much more. It was because of that feeling he’d missed his shot, effectively losing the element of surprise.

Pierre had turned around and shot back in return, his mouth covered in blood, a tooth missing, though his bullet found its mark, striking his arm, but that hadn’t stopped Spy. In that moment, he’d felt invincible, the pain had meant nothing, the only thing that mattered was Jeremy.

They’d fought, one on one, hand to hand, exchanging blow, after blow, after blow. Albert had been right about the iron knuckles, and they’d certainly made fighting that man a challenge, but again, the pain didn’t seem to matter, nothing mattered except Jeremy…

Except… Charlotte's son…

At some point Pierre had shot him again, this time landing the bullet in his side, but it hadn’t mattered. Spy already had his knife in his hand, and he was already making his next attack. The two men struggled for control over the knife once they’d connected again, struggled for life, for control, for a piece of metal.

Spy had won that fight, he’d stabbed Pierre in the neck as soon as the knife was secure in his hands.

He’d kept stabbing, over, and over, and over, and over again.

It didn’t matter that he was dead, it didn’t matter that he was covered in blood, it didn’t matter that this action was pointless, he couldn’t stop himself. Nothing had ever felt more right in his life, like for the first time, he had purpose other than himself, a calling that wasn’t selfish, a reason to live beyond the next mission's pay.

Eventually though, he’d stopped to breathe, having seemingly forgotten to while in his vengeful state of mind.

That’s when he’d heard it, the sound of a hammer being cocked on a gun.

When he looked in its direction, he saw Jeremy, holding his mother's gun, aiming it at him.

For the first time in his life, he saw his son.

Spy breathed, in, and out.

In, and out.

In… and out…

The boy was five, his hair was longer than he expected it to be, a brown, almost sandy blonde color that he hadn’t been expecting. His eyes… even in the dark, even with the lights of the city and moon just barely illuminating his face from the window, he saw the boy’s ice blue eyes…

He saw his eyes…

Jeremy… that was the boy’s name, that was the name his mother had given him… It suited him, he looked like a Jeremy.

It didn’t feel real, seeing him, seeing Charlotte’s son, but there he was… there he was…

Pointing a gun at his face, eyes wide with fear, stance firm, body shaking violently.

The gun was much too big for his hands, it was a miracle he was able to keep it up at all, but the human body had an incredible way of pulling off the impossible in times of stress.

They stared at each other, Jeremy in fear, Spy in awe…

He’d helped to make that boy… that was… that was Charlotte’s son…

That was Jeremy…

That was his boy…

And he was pointing a gun at him, he was terrified of him, he didn’t know him.

Why were there tears? This was for the best, why couldn’t he stop the tears? What was wrong with him?

“... Jeremy… it’s ok now, you… you’re safe now… no one’s going to hurt you… I swear it…”

The boy didn’t move, his hands shaking, his eyes still wide, his stance unyielding.

“It… it’s ok now, he’s dead, he… he can’t hurt you now… you’re safe… you and your mother are safe…”

Jeremy’s eyes darted to the body on the ground, then to Spy, then to the body again, and tears began to fall from his face.

“Where’s Al?” the boy asked, his voice trembling, tears continuing to spill from his eyes, “Where’s Al? I want Al… I want my Ma… I want my Ma!”

“Al… Al’s ok, he’s ok,” Spy quickly assured, slowly putting the knife away, before raising his hands, hoping to calm the boy, not wanting to scare him more than he already had, “he’s hurt, he’s badly hurt, but he’s going to be ok, I promise… He’s by the door, he’s… he’s alive, I promise you, he’s alive…”

This seemed to calm the boy down, as his ragged breathing and sobs slowed, his breathing becoming normal again. However, the gun didn’t fall, and the boy’s grip on it didn’t falter. Spy swallowed, he swallowed his regrets, his guilt, his fear, and his love.

There was a reason he wasn’t in the boy’s life… there was a reason… Why was that reason blurring?

“Jeremy… I need you to put the gun down, ok? I’m not… I’m not going to hurt you, I swear it, but… I need to leave, I need to leave before the police come… they will not take kindly to me, they will not understand…”

The boy’s grip tightened, his eyes widening again, causing Spy’s heart to plummet within his chest as fear coiled around it.

Just a boy, this was just a boy, he was scared, he didn’t know what was happening…

He’d just watched a man be brutally killed…

“Jeremy, please, I know you must be terribly frightened, I understand that feeling… but I have to go now… I swear, you will never see me again, and no one will ever come to harm you and your brother again… I swear this on my life…”

Jeremy paused, clearly considering what Spy had just said, and once again he relaxed, just a little though. Good, he was calming again, he would be able to get out of here, his life would be his own again, and this… this would just be a nasty memory…

Why did that thought hurt so much?

“You promise? You promise that I’m never gonna see you again… That I… That no one will ever come and try to hurt me again? That no one will ever hurt Al again?” Jeremy asked between sobs, the gun slowly lowering as his strength gave way. Spy took in a ragged breath of his own, his heart hurting beyond comparison, as he nodded and smiled weakly, and swore, “I promise… I promise, Jeremy…”

With that, Jeremy lowered the gun entirely, his arms unable to hold it upright any longer, his sobs now wracking his entire body as he began to cry.

For a moment, Spy wanted to hold him, wanted to comfort him, wanted to promise him that he would be ok, promise him that he was there, promise that his…

The sound of sirens approaching stopped these thoughts, and like the coward he was, Spy fled, leaving out the window that shed the barest sliver of light upon… Charlotte's son.

Then, he ran, and ran, and ran…

He didn’t stop running…

He never stopped running.

One day later, Spy had called Charlotte, for what he had assumed at the time to be their final conversation, and told her that he’d have to stop sending money, stop speaking, stop being in her life.

She had begged him not to go, pleaded for him to stay, cried out against his cruel nature… and he’d hung up.

Later that same day, he’d played a game of roulette, the Russian kind… Some days, he wasn’t sure if he’d won or lost.

“Anyhow,” Albert continued, snapping Spy from his own mind in an instant, causing him to blink a few times to get himself back into reality, “not too long later the cops showed up, found Jerry in Ma’s room with that asshole… He’d been stabbed to death, he’d been stabbed thirty-three times, it took Ma weeks to get the blood outta the carpet. Cops asked Jerry questions, but for the first time in his life he went quiet… Stayed quiet for three weeks… I’ll never forget it.

“Cops asked me questions too, but all I knew was that both’a those assholes were French, and that one of ‘em was still on the loose, still stalkin’ around doin’ God knows what, God knows where… So, there ya have it, that’s how I know Jerry’s dad’s French, because two came in, and one walked out… One walked out.”

The room went silent as Albert finished his story, everyone enamored with the tale, and with what Albert and Scout had survived. Spy was quiet because he was relieved, relieved that his identity was still hidden, relieved that Albert wasn’t as smart as he originally thought, relieved that he could continue forward without the past weighing him down…

Who was he kidding, he was quiet because of the never ending, forever drowning weight of his guilt… guilt that would never let him rest. He’d made his choices, choices from a lifetime ago, so why did they still haunt him? Why did he feel guilt over doing the best thing in that scenario?

Because it was a lie, and he knew it.

“... Funny, I don’t remember any’a that.” Scout declared nonchalantly, earning an enormous eye roll from Albert as he drank more wine. “I mean, I think I’d recall seein’ a guy get stabbed thirty-three times, that doesn’t seem like somethin’ I’d forget, especially me shuttin’ up for three weeks, that I think I’d remember.”
“You think I’m just makin’ this shit up, Jerry?” Albert asked with great annoyance, clearly not in the mood for his younger brother. “Uh, to prove a point, yeah.” Scout blatantly replied, earning him a hard stare from his brother.

“If I am remembering the story correctly, Scout was five when this happened, ja?” Medic asked inquisitively, to which Albert nodded in response. “Well, if that’s the case, it’s entirely possible that his brain has blocked out the memory as a defense mechanism, in order to try and protect him from the trauma such an experience would’ve caused. It’s not as uncommon as you think.”

“So, you’re sayin’ my brain’s wimpy or somethin’?” Scout asked, both curious and offended at the same time. “Not at all,” Medic quickly defended, “I’m just saying that when traumatic things happen to young children, the brain… oh what’s the word… blocks, nein, represses! The brain represses the memory to protect itself. This isn’t just something that just happened to you, the repressing that is, this is something that any small child can experience with the right trauma.”

“Sure would explain a lot about why he don’t remember anythin’.” Albert commented thoughtfully, though Spy was more than grateful that Scout didn’t remember the incident. “Whatever, that story still don’t prove my dad’s French, just that Ma messed around with French guys.” Scout declared stubbornly, again earning an eye roll from his brother. “She probably borrowed money from the French mafia, and uh, they went to collect, a-and cause she didn’t have the money, they was gonna take me, cause I’m the best kid, that’s what happened. As for the one guy savin’ me, well, obviously he took a likin’ to her, and couldn’t bear the thought of our Ma losin’ her best kid, so uh, that’s what happened.”

Albert simply stared at Scout for a long, long moment, before stating bluntly, “Denial is a river in Egypt, your dad’s fuckin’ French.”
“NO HE AIN’T!!! Ain’t no way in hell my dad’s French! I’m too cool to be French! My dad… My dad was an awesome hero type guy, who tragically passed away fightin’ the left-over Nazi’s, and he was never able to get home to Ma! It was fuckin’ tragic!”

“...Yeah, tragic.” Albert repeated sarcastically while taking a sip of wine, before scoffing to himself and shaking his head. “Whatever, you’re just jealous my dad’s a cool guy, and yours ain’t!”
“Neither of our dad’s are cool guys, they’re both assholes, deal with it.”
“I’m tellin’ ya, my dad ain’t French!”

“Ok, you wanna know who your dad was so damn bad? Lemme tell ya who your dad was,” Albert stated firmly, sitting up a little as he did so, “your dad’s French, no ifs, ands, or buts, and you’re right, he was part’a the French Mafia, and he did take a likin’ to our Ma, five years and nine months before you entered the world. Then, like the rest of our dads, he ditched her ass soon as you were announced, but unlike the rest of our dads, he felt guilty, so when things got rough, he stopped by to save your ass, but only because he felt guilty as fuck! Then, because he couldn’t run with the French mafia no more, he went back to France, and died shortly thereafter, and I got two guesses as to what killed him. One, he got syphilis from doin’ it with too many whores and died from it, or two, he skewered himself while tryin’ to do it with the Eiffel tower, it made headlines all over the country.”

“Dude, that’s fucked up!”
“If you got one thing right about your dad, it’s that his life was tragic, but in a Shakspearian comedy kinda way.”
“You take it back! My dad ain’t French!”
“Suck it.”

“Ok, ok, that is enough from both of you!” Quincy shouted, quickly stepping between the two brothers before any physical altercations broke out, “No one knows for certain who’s dad was what, all we know is that they were all assholes, ok? Jerry, your dad was an ass, my dad was an ass, and Alberts dad was an ass, it sucks, but it’s true. Now for the love of all that is good and holy, could you two quit actin’ like your five and fifteen? Grow up, you especially Al, you’re a freakin’ officer in the Air Force!”

“What, and Jerry ain’t a grown ass man too?” Albert shot back in surprise. “Jerry’s the littlest, he gets a pass.” Quincy stated firmly, causing Scout to sport a smug grin, while Alberts jaw dropped open. “Besides, this is my house, and as the owner of said house, I order you two to stop arguing, it’s stupid.”

“Well, while you three bicker about your fathers, I’m going to go have a quick smoke,” Spy declared nonchalantly, needing to get away from the team before he exploded, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, feel free to fight all you like while I’m gone.”
“Yeah whatever Spy, go kill your lungs or somethin’.” Scout jeered, and to his own surprise, Spy found he couldn’t even bring himself to roll his eyes, simply getting up and walking out of the room without any further comment.

Once he was finally away from his team on the front step of Quincy’s house, Spy finally allowed himself to breathe, to feel, to simply absorb the many emotions and feelings that had been swarming within him. He found that this action manifested itself into an uncharacteristically shaky sigh, as his heart grew heavier within his chest, as that all too familiar feeling of guilt creeped into him once again.

It just… it hurt, it hurt hearing those things, it hurt having to remember what he’d done to Charlotte, and it hurt knowing that he was still the same coward now that he was back then. Yes, yes he had no right to hurt, he had no right to feel such remorse when he knew he would do nothing about it, but… but he just couldn’t help it.

How could he?

Standing there on that step, listening to the ambience of the city, smelling the salty air of the nearby ocean, seeing the lights that went for miles and miles, it helped Spy to feel alive again, to feel something other than the misery of a lifetime of mistakes. This, this was his environment, not some musty base in the middle of nowhere, but this living, breathing, wonderful collection of lives, money, light, power, and art.

This was the place that made everything disappear, for wherever he went, however different, or strange they happened to be, the core of all cities never changed, as if like some great forest that was all connected by the same roots. Knowing he could disappear into this place, knowing he could thrive in this place, knowing that if he chose to, he could reinvent himself on a whim, that made Spy feel so much better. It helped him to feel like he had some control over his life again

As he lit his cigarette and blew his first bit of smoke into the night, he watched as it rose steadily into the sky, lasting longer here than it ever did at the Red base. He tried not to think about why he’d really come outside, why he’d really needed to smoke, he just wanted to forget about his sins, if only for a moment. The cigarette helped, if only slightly, and soon, he became lost within his own smoke, as well as the atmosphere of the city around him.

It was nice, not quiet per say, but that wasn’t what Spy needed, nor wanted. He just needed to get out of his own head, and away from his heart, he’d just needed to forget…

That was the best thing to do, wasn’t it? Forget? Move on?

What else could be done, the past was the past, and he could never take back his actions, so why dwell on them? Why let them weigh him down, when his future finally looked so clear, well, maybe not clear, but bright, certainly the brightest it’s been since…

Since…

Again, Spy exhaled some smoke into the night, stuck within his own mind, unable to escape his heart, wishing that he wasn’t alone with his memories… wishing he could tell Medic without fear of losing him too…

Then, he heard the door open behind him, and he was suddenly no longer alone. When he saw that it was Sniper who had joined him, he wasn’t sure how to feel, so he simply accepted it, and wordlessly offered his good friend a cigarette. Seeing this, Sniper merely gave an accepting nod, before taking it and lighting it as Spy went back to enjoying his night, a small smile making its way onto his face, fleeting though it was.

Soon, the two men were standing side by side, simply smoking quietly in each other's presence, each understanding that nothing needed to be said just yet, and that the silence they shared was quickly becoming a rare commodity.

It felt nice, standing there with one of the only people who truly knew him, it felt nice being able to just… be. This feeling of silence, of unspoken comradery, of true understanding, it both comforted him, and terrified him. Alas, he’d done that to himself, and of course, he knew it.

“I forgive you.” Sniper finally said after what was possibly the shortest five minutes of Spy’s life, and suddenly his heart felt a lot lighter. He hadn’t been aware of how much his earlier off colored remark to Sniper had been weighing on him, but hearing those words, knowing that Sniper was still there for him… it made his throat tighten, just slightly though.

“Merci.” was all Spy was able to get out, to inexplicably overcome with relief to say much else. That, and he didn’t dare give away just how emotional he’d become.

“Look… I… I know ya didn’t mean to bring up, well, you know,” Sniper continued a bit hesitantly, a hint of shame within his voice as he did so, “and I know ya felt like shit as soon as ya said it… but mate… I need to know ya ain’t gonna do that again, intentionally or otherwise… I don’t… I don’t wanna worry about… about…”

“Mundy, it will not happen again, I swear it,” Spy promised gravely, instantly turning to face Sniper, who continued to look over the city, a mix of hurt and shame on his face, “I wasn’t in my right mind when I said what I said, I was angry, I was on edge… I know that’s not an excuse, and I don’t mean it to be one, but… Mundy, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I failed you…”

Silence once again settled over the two men, and Sniper simply continued to smoke, his face unchanging. While it felt good knowing he was forgiven, it hurt to think that perhaps Sniper no longer trusted him the way he had, or that he was simply forgiving him for simplicity’s sake.

God, he hoped he wasn’t just forgiving him for simplicity's sake.

Thankfully, the silence didn’t last too much longer, and after releasing some smoke into the air, Sniper quietly said, “I know you ain’t makin’ excuses, I know you well enough by now… I just don’t wanna get stabbed like that again… I’m tryin’ to move on, I’m tryin’ to forget ‘im… I don’t… Fuck… fuck…”

Sniper’s gaze then fell as he ran a hand through his hair, and Spy merely sighed, understanding exactly what he was afraid of. It was funny really, for a man with such mastery of his own emotions, he sure did have a way of cutting people when he didn’t want to.

“It will not happen again, I swear it,” Spy vowed, his tone of voice instantly catching Sniper's attention as he turned to look at him, “and if it does… well, you certainly know enough of my secrets to make a proper comeback.”
“C’mon mate, I don’t wanna do that,” Sniper muttered with an awkward laugh, “I just wanna be able to trust the fact that if you get pissed at me for whatever reason, you ain’t gonna snap at me with… you know…”
“I know, I know…”

Again, silence fell between them, though it was much more awkward this time around, neither man able to look the other in the eye, nor able to enjoy their respective cigarettes. Once again, it thankfully did not last too long.

“Uh… Look, how about we do this,” Sniper suggested an understanding smile, “how about we just let bygones be bygones, and say we’re good, alright? I uh, I know I was intentionally eggin’ Albert on about… hehe… about you, so uh, why don’t we call it even, eh? No hard feelin’s?”

Spy couldn’t help but let out a half-hearted chuckle, shaking his head both at how much he knew he didn’t deserve his good friend's kindness, and in confusion as to why this man still tolerated his ideocracies. Really, why Sniper still chose to stay by his side was a mystery Spy would never solve, after all, he knew he’d hate having to deal with someone like himself. Maybe that’s why they were good friends though, maybe Sniper’s incredible patience applied to more than just his profession, but to him as well.

Then again, the man had no patience when it came to people messing with his personal belongings, or cities, so who really knew for certain?

“Mundy, your patience amazes me,” Spy stated with admiration, “truly, I have never, nor will ever again, meet a man quite like you… Merci, mon ami.”
“Heh, I wouldn’t think too hard about it,” Sniper said with an awkward laugh, “I mean, if I had a nickel for every time I had to deal with a French bastard… well, I’d only have two nickels, which ain’t a lot, but that can’t be a coincidence.”

Despite himself, despite the more serious conversation he’d been trying to have, Spy found himself starting to laugh, really, truly laugh. It was stupid really, laughing so hard over such a stupid comment, but there was something about the way that Sniper had said that last sentence that was just funny to him.

God, he hated his laugh so much, but he just couldn’t stop himself.

“Well, that’s somethin’ you ain’t hear everyday!” Sniper exclaimed with a sly grin, all while Spy tried, and failed, to stop himself and his horrible laughter. “Shut up, y-you shut up!” Spy cried out, before snorting out more laughter, “This is supposed to be serious!”
“Oh, well sorry for ruinin’ your sulk, didn’t mean to do that, Lord knows that you gotta have at least two solid hours of sulkin’ in if you’re to survive the day.”
“Shut up!”

Thankfully, Sniper did shut up, simply standing there with a smug grin while Spy got a hold of himself, letting out a few more horrible snorts before letting out a deep sigh. Despite hating the way his laugh sounded, there really was no denying the fact he always felt better after having a good laugh, for whatever reason it happened to be. That didn’t mean he ever wanted to laugh like that in front of his team if he could help it, but still.

“I hate you, I hate you so much.” Spy declared once he could breathe again, his smile betraying his true feelings. “Eh, it’s a mutual thing, no hard feelin’s.” Sniper assured with a similar smile, before letting out a contented sigh as he began to smoke again.

This time when they sat in silence, it finally felt just right, no unspoken feelings, no somber air, just this, just them in this moment of quiet understanding. Perhaps that was the thing that caused the two men to be so close, the mutual understanding that silence truly was golden, and that oftentimes, the simple action of sharing a smoke meant more than any words they could share. It was wonderful.

“Ya know, I think I’m gonna call it a night now,” Sniper said, taking one last deep drag of his cigarette to finish it off, “I dunno when the next time I’m gonna have my van all to myself, and uh, I wanna enjoy it while I got it.”
“Fair enough,” Spy acknowledged, still smoking, “in that case, I shall see you in the morning. Good night, Mundy, enjoy the silence.”
“Will do mate, will do.”

With that, Sniper made his way to his van, leaving Spy once again alone with his thoughts, though not nearly in such a miserable state. Yes, he still felt remorse for his past actions, but his mind was quieter about it, leaving such a feeling as merely an ache, and not quite the burn it had once been. It was nice to finally fully immerse himself into the night, and not have such drowning thoughts, it was nice to finally forget.

Granted, he was certain that such feelings would return in full force sooner than later, but that was for his future self to deal with, for now, he simply wanted to enjoy the present, something he really did need to learn how to do a bit better. Oh well, he’d get there eventually, and he wasn’t doing a half bad job at that moment. The only thing that would make it better was if Medic was with him, that would be pure bliss, but he’d have to wait for that, after all, they’d have the rest of the night to themselves.

Oh, what a wonderful thought that was.

“Hey pal, mind if I join ya for a sec?”

It was at that moment that Albert officially broke Scout’s record for ruining Spy’s mood the fastest, only by mere milliseconds, but still, the point stood.

Spy’s calm, slightly pleasant expression dropped so incredibly quickly that it nearly hurt, but after taking a moment to inhale a rather large amount of smoke, he regained a neutral expression, and turned to the newfound source of his annoyance, hoping that the man really would only be there for a second. However, Spy got the very distinct feeling that, just like his younger brother, Albert would be sticking around far longer than he would’ve liked. Honestly, this was probably his karma finally catching up to him, not that that made him feel any better.

“If you insist.” Spy replied flatly, hoping his tone of voice would be enough to drive the man away. Alas, when was anything ever that convenient?

“Cool, thanks.” Albert replied with a smile, quickly lighting a cigarette of his own as he went and stood next to Spy, taking in a deep inhale as he did so. “Man… what a night huh? Ya can actually see some’a the stars… Ain’t even feel that cold out.”
“... It is a rather nice night, isn’t it.” Spy reluctantly admitted, his previous feelings of animosity dying away as his feelings of peace grew within him again.

“Yeah, it’s like they say in Vietnam, ‘Vào những đêm như thế này, những người đàn ông như bạn sẽ bị thiêu đốt trong địa ngục’, or somethin’ like that anyhow.” Albert remarked a bit absent mindedly, releasing some smoke shortly afterwards. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Vietnamese,” Spy said a bit awkwardly, “how does the saying go?”
“Ah, never mind,” Albert replied with a fond smile, clearly thinking about other things, “ain’t nothin’ important, just stuff about focusin’ on the present, while enjoyin’ what’s to come.”
“A difficult mindset to get into nowadays, but I can appreciate the sentiment.”
“Yeah, feel ya there pal.”

“Out of curiosity, how is it that you speak Vietnamese?” Spy asked, rather genuinely to his own surprise. “Well, I served four tours over there,” Albert explained while releasing more smoke, “so I figured I’d learn it while I was there, make things easier on myself. Plus, my wife’s from ‘Nam, so I try to keep up with it for her and her family, and not to brag or nothin’, but I’m practically fluent.”

“You served four tours in Vietnam? Why the hell would you do that?” Spy asked, now officially directing his gaze to the younger man, who still kept his gaze over the city around them. “Life, life’s why.” Albert explained quietly, and Spy decided not to press the matter any further than that. Some things just weren’t meant to be talked about, and he, unlike many others, knew how to respect when silence was wanted.

Maybe this man wasn’t so bad, sure he was loud and crass, like his brother, but it appeared as though he was also at least somewhat capable of understanding the importance of quiet moments, which was certainly better than Scout. Perhaps he’d been just a bit harsh on him, after all, he had been in a rather panicked state of mind, and the man had only shown one side of himself at that point in time. Maybe there was hope that the flight to Australia wouldn’t be so miserable, but only maybe.

There was still something off about Albert that Spy couldn’t quite place, but what that was he just didn’t know. It was probably just his blunt nature, self assurance, and crass attitude, all things that Spy did not enjoy in others, especially when they were combined. He was probably just being paranoid though, per usual.

“Hey, random question,” Albert said after a moment, “but if you got time tomorrow, you mind meetin’ with me so we can talk over what exactly’s goin’ on? I know I talked with Jerry, but he ain’t exactly known for rememberin’ details, nor is he known for givin’ details if they’re inconvenient, and I just wanna know what’s actually goin’ on from the head honcho, ya know?”

Spy thought it over for a moment, trying to search for any sign of a hidden agenda or alterior motive, but he found nothing, so with a bit of skeptical intrigue, he asked, “Do you not trust your brother?”
“Hey, I trust ‘im, but I also trust ‘im to not give me the full story if it’s inconvenient. Look, I gotta family, career, a life of my own, and while I am willin’ to put my life out there for Jerry, I wanna know exactly what I’m goin’ up against, not just the army, I wanna know about all the players. This is bigger than he let on to, I know it, and if I’m gonna be involved, I wanna know all the stuff, that make sense?”

“Fair enough,” Spy acknowledged as he finished his cigarette, flicking the butt away as he turned to properly face Albert, “though I fail to see why we can’t discuss it now, seeing as we have time.”
“I’ll tell ya why, I’m three sheets to the wind,” Albert explained with a light laugh, “I ain’t exactly fit to be drivin’, let alone talkin’ serious shit. Tell ya what, you familiar with this city?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Ah, well, ya got any spots you’d wanna discuss this sorta stuff at? Like a diner, pub, spots like that?”
“Preferably somewhere away from prying eyes and ears, I’d like to think we’re not being spied on or followed, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Ah, got it… Say, why don’t we meet where I met Jerry, huh?” Albert suggested before taking a drag of his cigarette, “It’s an old warehouse down by the piers that no one goes to, and if someone does happen to show up, I know the place well enough that I can get us outta there without trouble. Sound good to you?”

Normally such a suggestion would be sending red flags to Spy, but seeing as the ball was in his court, and other options had been provided, he decided that it probably was the safest place to discuss such secretive matters. Besides, it probably would be best to talk one on one with Albert, if only to get a better idea as to who he was as a person, and deal with any… problems that should arise.

“Very well, what time would you like to meet?” Spy asked, actually looking forward to properly sizing the man up, and figuring out just how smart he really was. “Whatever time works for you pal,” Albert replied, finally turning to properly face Spy, “I wanna be at the airfield by eleven, so anytime before that’s good. I think nine-nine thirty sounds about right, whaddya think?”
“Nine sounds perfect, I’ll get the location from Scout.”
“Sounds good pal, sounds good.”

For a moment, Spy half expected Albert to simply walk inside again now that his business was concluded, but to his own surprise, the man stayed put, still simply content to smoke and enjoy the night air. With nothing better to do, Spy too stayed put, not wanting to go inside just yet, actually enjoying the company he was with, at least for the moment anyway. He doubted that he could handle the man on any long term basis, but he could handle this, and he could respect him for who he was, after all, he’d certainly led a rather… interesting life.

Spy chose not to dwell on that, and tried to focus more on the present moment instead, as well as the future night with his lover. God, he couldn’t wait to finally have a proper sleep with Medic, Lord knew the man certainly needed it. Maybe that would finally help with his discomfort, maybe… If not, they’d simply find another solution.

They had to.

“Vào những đêm như thế này, những người đàn ông như bạn sẽ bị thiêu đốt trong địa ngục.” Albert muttered quietly to himself, and Spy found himself nodding in agreement, something about his tone of voice simply making him believe his words, though why this was he didn’t know. Maybe it was the liquor, maybe it was the smoke, or maybe it was the night air, but in that moment, Spy finally felt some bit of peace, true, wonderful, blissful peace.

Chapter Text

Spy had slept wonderfully that night, truly the best he’d slept in weeks. Not only was his stress at an all-time low, he also wasn’t stuck in Sniper's van, and was actually lying down in a comfortable position, with actual pillows and blankets! Sure, he could make do without such things, he’d done so many times within his past, but still, he knew how to appreciate them, and how to take full advantage of such luxuries when he had them. Honestly, he could have slept through the entire day had he been allowed to, but alas, he had business to attend to, business he actually felt pretty good about too.

It seemed as though his initial distrust of Albert was unfounded, sure he still didn’t like him as a character, nor did he like his self assuredness, but he couldn’t deny that his heart was in the right place, and that he really was an intelligent man. That, and if this was some kind of trap, he’d done a very poor job at setting it.

Multiple options had been given as to where to meet, he’d shown all his cards, and his reasons for meeting were completely valid, after all, Scout was probably the absolute worst communicator on the planet. It made sense that this man would want to know what was actually going on, he had a life to think about, a family, his own reputation, things that Spy also yearned to protect.

Besides, this little meeting would also provide him an opportunity to put that arrogant prick in his place, maybe show the younger man why he was in charge, and hopefully get him to stop being so… apathetic towards him. He just couldn’t stand the utter lack of respect he had towards him, or anyone really, it just drove him up the wall in a way he couldn’t describe. There was no way that Albert was the smartest man in the room, but he certainly liked to act like it. Well, a simple conversation would clear things up, knock him down a peg or two, hell, it would probably do him some good in the long run.

That’s what the egomaniac within him said anyway, and who was Spy to ignore such sage words?

When Spy was fully awake, he couldn’t help but look over at Medic, and smile softly at the sight of his peaceful expression, his slightly messy hair, and the way he had the blankets covering all but his head. Finally, finally his lover looked well, healthy, and rested. It had been too long since he’d seen him this way, truly at peace, and he hoped that from here his condition would only improve.

Alas, he knew he was being wishful, and he was certain that once their trip got started again his lover's health would decline, but at least he had this small break, at least he was able to get some good sleep. He just wished he could find a permanent solution, he wished that he could take Medics pain from him, he wished he could bring him comfort.

One day he would, one day…

In the meantime though, he had other business to attend to.

Thankfully, Spy did not wake Medic as he got himself ready for the day, much to his own relief, for he knew that the more rest he got, the better he’d be in the long run. However, before he left, he couldn’t help but tenderly run his hand through his lover's hair, admiring him as he did so. What he had done to be blessed with such a wonderful person he would never know, but he would forever be grateful for him, for his mercy, for his kindness, for his patience. He just hoped he would be able to keep him in his life, and that he had changed enough to actually deserve him, to be good to him, to be good enough for him.

God, he hoped he was good enough for him.

After spending just a moment longer beside Medic, Spy turned and left, quietly making his way through Quincy’s house, and out into the city. The morning air felt nice, chilly, but nowhere near freezing, and the sound of life forever stirring invigorated him in a way that made him feel twenty years younger. Perhaps one day, once this ridiculous situation was all over, he would move himself and Medic to a city, where they would live semi-normal lives. Medic of course would be a doctor, and he would do free-lance work, or he’d become a private investigator, fewer enemies that way.

Either way, it would be wonderful, and it would be theirs.

It didn’t take as long as Spy thought it would to find the warehouse Scout and Sniper had originally met with Albert in, and he did find it a bit unnerving that the place had clearly been abandoned for some years. Sure, he knew that this is what he should be expecting, but at the same time that part of him that signaled danger was starting to sound within him, as if somehow, he’d chosen poorly with where to meet Albert.

Whatever, it was a private location, and if someone did try and sneak up on them, they’d know immediately. Not to mention the fact that should a fight actually break out, they’d be away from the general public, meaning the chances of the police getting involved were practically none. That, and there wouldn’t be any collateral damage or casualties, which was why Spy had decided that this location would be a good one.

Did he think he was going to get in a physical altercation with Albert? No, no he doubted it, and if he did, he would be sure to finish the fight quickly, after all, if you’ve fought one US soldier, you’ve practically fought them all. No, he was more worried that Gray and his forces were somewhere close by, after all, leaving the van out in the open overnight wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. That, and there was a very real possibility that Albert superiors, who were most definitely loyal to the US military, didn’t find coincidence in the fact that he suddenly had an unscheduled mission to Vietnam, while his criminal brother was on the loose nearby.

There were just a lot of factors that, while unknown, could be better dealt with away from public eyes.

Upon entering the warehouse, Spy wasn’t entirely surprised to find that Albert was already there, leaning against an old crate while smoking quietly, nothing about him giving away any nervousness, ulterior motives, or heightened emotions. That made Spy feel better, for despite having ruled out that Albert actually knew his true relation to Scout, some part of him was still worried. Something about the younger man just didn’t sit right with Spy, but aside from the previously mentioned grievances, he just wasn’t sure what exactly it was that made him so uneasy.

Certainly it was his own paranoia, after all, if Albert really wanted harm to come to him, he wouldn’t have been so generous in offering locations to meet. He would’ve picked somewhere that he had the advantage, and not given the upper hand to Spy, that would just be foolish, though really, Albert certainly seemed like a fool.

Damn it all, why was this man so hard to read?

“Hey, good timin’ pal, you actually showed up on time!” Albert greeted with a friendly tone when he saw Spy approaching, a warm smile on his face as he walked to meet Spy halfway. “Not to imply that you’re normally a late shower, but I’ve met my fair share of disappointin’ characters, glad to see you ain’t one’a ‘em.”
“Please, I know how to keep an appointment.” Spy declared, his irritation levels already rising. “Didn’t mean no offense pal, didn’t mean no offense.” Albert assured as he raised his hands in mock surrender, before letting out a deep sigh, releasing smoke as he did so.

“Have a good sleep last night?” he asked, actually sounding genuinely curious, though Spy still couldn’t get a good read on his eyes, no matter how hard he tried. “I did, the best I’ve had in a while,” Spy replied, “I must say, your brother certainly appreciates the finer things in life, and he has treated me and my men wonderfully, despite the… odd circumstances.”
“Yeah, Q’s a good guy,” Albert agreed with a fond tone of voice, “always has been, and I tell you what, it’d mean the world to him if ya said that to his face. He uh, he don’t get a lotta compliments, so it’d do him some good.”
“I’ll make a point to do so the next time I see him, he most certainly deserves it.”
“Yeah, yeah… Anyhow, speakin’ of odd circumstances, why don’t ya tell me what’s goin’ on, huh? Why the heck’s the army so hot on your ass?”

With an irked sigh, not towards Albert, but just because he was irked with the situation in general, Spy began to explain to Albert what exactly was happening, and how it had all come to be. He decided to leave the part of Gray’s immortality via australium out of the conversation, having already regretted telling his team that bit, and not wanting the younger man to get any ideas about accruing his own.

Throughout the conversation, Albert made sure to ask questions, questions about the Mann brothers, the Administrator, Miss Pauling, Saxton Hale, Gray, even the old mercs. Not only was he paying attention, but he was also clearly taking mental notes, something which Spy both appreciated, and worried over, after all, Albert was still a military man. However, that worry was thankfully no longer at the forefront of his mind, so he once again chose to ignore it.

Still, something about Albert just seemed off, and the fact that he couldn’t identify what it was, was starting to infuriate Spy. Normally it didn’t take him this long to get a read on characters, he usually figured them out rather quickly, through one tell or another, but Albert…

Albert didn’t have an obvious tell, and unfortunately for Spy, he simply couldn’t press the matter without fear of jeopardizing their flight, so in the meantime, he continued to watch, and wait. Something would have to show eventually, it always did in the end, he just had to be patient.

“And there you have it,” Spy declared once his story was concluded, “that is how we have ended up in this most… idiotic situation, for lack of a better word. I hope that everything is clarified, and that nothing I have said has changed your mind about wanting to help us.”
“Not at all, sounds like my normal Saturday night,” Albert joked with a grin, before chuckling to himself and saying, “but seriously though, I do appreciate the heads up, Jerry uh, Jerry wasn’t exactly that detailed with me, ya know? He just said that some rich asshole was tryin’ to take over the world, and was usin’ the army to help hunt ‘im down.”

“Well, that is what’s happening, more or less,” Spy conceded with a shrug, “but I do respect the fact that you wanted to know more, after all, it’s not everyday one finds themselves wanted by the government.”
“True that, pal, true that… Say, odd question, but do ya know why that Sniper fella didn’t add any detail? I mean, he seems like a good guy, kinda surprised he didn’t fill Jerry’s gaps, ya know what I mean?”
“Ah yes, well… Sniper tends to get… a bit overwhelmed in new situations, and when meeting new people, I’m certain he didn’t mean to hide anything from you.”
“Ok, ok, I get it, I’ve met a few guys like him, my brother Mark’s kinda like that, good dude but uh, a little… odd.”
“Yes… odd… good, but odd.”

As Albert nodded in agreement, he slowly took a drag of his cigarette, his mind seemingly entering another train of thought as his stance shifted into… something else. He was still relaxed, still there within the present moment, but he wasn’t the same as he had been only a moment ago. What exactly had changed was beyond Spy, and he hated that.

“I gotta say pal,” Albert said with a bit more serious tone, “hearin’ what Jerry's been up to for all these years… it’s a lot. I knew he was doin’ mercenary type work, but… shit, he’s seen some shit, hasn’t he? Like, the kinda shit that keeps ya up at night, that shit you don’t ever forget… Fuck dude, he’s died… and come back… multiple times, hundreds of times! That’s crazy… Man, I wish I’d reached out to him now…”

Spy sighed quietly, actually feeling somewhat sympathetic for Albert, before softly saying, “He’s strong you know, stronger than you think… Yes, yes he’s seen things, done things… but I have never seen him back down or falter… Scout… Jeremy is a very strong fighter, and an even greater friend…”

Yes, friend…

“Glad to hear that from ya pal,” Albert said with a genuine smile, his stance softening from his previous state, “I know we ain’t exactly been the closest, me and Jerry that is, but I do care for him, and knowin’ he’s got good friends lookin’ out for him, that makes me feel better about his situation.”
“Indeed he does, indeed he does…” Spy agreed solemnly, his heart hurting within him at the thought of… well, his lack of genuine relationship with Scout.

Truthfully, they were friends, but just barely that. There were no deep ties between them, no respect for one another aside from as teammates, nor any connection that went beyond their line of work. Scout and Sniper were friends, Scout and Pyro were practically brothers, hell, Scout seemed to have more of a genuine connection to Medic than he did to him, and he’d known him for less time. Well, that just went and showed how little effort Spy had put into the young man, after all, Scout could make friends with anyone, if the other party was willing…

He’d never thought about it much, never really cared for it, but nowadays it seemed he couldn’t avoid it. Even before fleeing the army, Spy had found himself dwelling on his lack of true relationship with Scout, but actually committing to improving it had proven… difficult. Not only was Spy a coward, but it just happened that Scout wasn’t the sort of person he really wanted to hang around, despite all of his wonderful traits. It was just difficult to get beyond that surface layer of Scout's ideocracies, to see beyond the annoying, immature boy that poked at him every chance he got.

Then again, that was the president Spy had set between them for the past several years, so he really couldn’t blame Scout for upholding it.

“Hey, you good dude? You seem kinda stressed, though, I suppose that would make sense, seein’ as you’re the guy leadin’ that pack’a hooligans, no offense.” Albert stated, a mix of worry and humor in his tone, though he was quite serious. Spy sighed heavily and closed his eyes, thinking about everything that was weighing on his mind, and everything that would eventually start to weigh on his mind. It was just a lot at that moment, especially with Scout at the forefront of his mind, so he couldn’t be too upset with the fact that his tone of voice and facial expression were giving away his inner feelings.

He hated that his inner feelings were starting to become so easily readable, but there was nothing he could do about that at the current moment. Therefore, he decided that letting some of his true feelings be known wouldn’t be the end of the world, especially when they were so incredibly obvious to anyone with a decent brain.

“Truthfully… I am stressed,” Spy admitted, a bit surprised when he actually felt better for saying it out loud, “but there’s nothing to be done about it, so I try not to let it show more than needed. I mean, I am leading eight… seven… I am leading seven men into a situation I know nothing about, in a land I know nothing about, to fight enemies I know nothing about. I don’t like dealing with that many unknowns at one time, something always goes wrong when I do, and with my team as broken as it is… I just don’t like it…

“I don’t know if Scout has told you this or not, but I am currently missing two other members of my team, named Dell Conagher, and Fritz Ludwig, both of whom were kidnapped, though by whom, I am no longer certain. I used to think it was Gray Mann that did it, but I have other sources making me believe otherwise, but no other option makes sense, no other answer has presented itself, so I am stuck in limbo, waiting for an answer to appear, waiting for a solution to present itself.

“On top of that, I am stuck with my team. Do not mistake me, I like them, but that does not mean I always enjoy them… They are all wonderful men, and they have all proven themselves as competent mercenaries, and wonderful companions, however… They are not always my preferred company.

“They are loud, they are unclean, they are crude, and worst of all, they have no dignity when it comes to each other, meaning I must constantly bear the brunt of their… stupidity! Mon Dieu, they are idiots! All of them! Even those whom I deemed sensible have somehow devolved into shameless imbeciles! Peace and quiet have become an oddly rare luxury that I cannot seem to afford, and I might as well forget about privacy!

“Albert, I have no personal space anymore! My days are spent trying to maintain whatever sanity I have left, all while my moronic team throws whatever sanity they have left between each other as if it meant nothing! Yet they still look to me for answers and guidance, when they themselves can barely hold a cohesive thought! It’s ludicrous! On top of that…”

Spy wished to continue, he wished to go on about his worries for Medic, his fury with Miss Pauling, his fear for the upcoming trip, and his feelings of failure as a leader, but he instead forced himself to pause, while also forcing in a deep breath to calm himself down. Going down the rabbit hole of his mind was not something he was about to do with the likes of Albert, especially when he didn’t know why the man rubbed him the wrong way. Not only that, but there was no reason for the man to be privy to the finer intricacies of the situation when not even his own team was privy to them.

He’d have to find time to vent with Sniper some other time, if such a moment ever arose again.

“Forgive me,” Spy managed to say in an even and controlled voice, “it seems as though there was more on my mind that I originally thought, I did not mean to bombard you with my own problems.” Albert just stared at him for a moment with a rather amused expression, before letting out a snort and saying, “You sure are a bougie fella, aintcha?”

This in turn only got a very hard, and very unamused stare out of Spy, who was currently wishing he was back in bed with Medic.

“Just jokin’ with ya pal, just jokin’,” Albert assured with a small chuckle, before letting out a short sigh and continuing with, “but seriously, I get it man, you’re in a tough spot. It ain’t easy bein’ a leader, not a lotta people get that, ya know? I mean, I was takin’ care of my littler brothers as soon as I understood the word, ‘responsibility’, and I tell you what, they were a handful. And personal space? Forget it, there was nine of us livin’ in some small ass apartment in the worst part’a town, I didn’t understand the concept of personal space until I was… Fuck, I still think I’m tryin’ to wrap my head around it.

“Now, don’t mistake me, I ain’t sayin’ this to make ya feel like shit, I’m sayin’ this to let ya know that these are hard things to get used to, especially when it’s dropped on ya all at once, the lack’a space especially. What I’m tryin’ to say is, it’s ok to be stressin’ the fuck out! You’re human, and believe it or not, humans don’t really do well with sudden change, least most humans I know don’t, so don’t be beatin’ yourself up too much, alright? Just take it one day at a time, that’s what I did when life got stuck in my head, ‘K pal?”

Spy once again sighed deeply, feeling his heavy heart within his chest, but he did find himself nodding in agreement, though he wasn’t quite certain that he trusted in the genuineness of Alberts words. He certainly found truth within them, but not comfort, though why this was still eluded him. Such words should bring comfort, and coming from anyone else they would have, but coming from Albert…

“I suppose you’re right,” Spy conceded with a small smile, “I haven’t really thought about my own state of mind in a moment, and have probably been neglecting it.”
“Hey, that’s what happens when you’re a leader,” Albert declared with an oddly confident smile, “but you already get that, dontcha? It’s tough, real tough, but that’s what makes guys like us unique, right pal?”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Course I’m right, I’m a fuckin’ genius.”

God, Spy hated that man with such a passion.

“You know, you sound an awful lot like Scout.” Spy declared, intending to have his tone of voice show that he did not mean his comment as a compliment. “Nah man, I’m the original, Jerry sounds like me.” Albert corrected, completely unaware, or ignoring, Spy’s cutting tone, still flashing his smile without a care in the world. That irked Spy, that really irked Spy.

“Well, that would certainly explain quite a bit.” Spy commented rather curtly, at this point wanting to get a reaction out of Albert, wanting to expose that thing within the younger man that uneased him so much. He’d tried being patient, he’d tried being polite and friendly, but he was getting sick of this game, and before he was stuck in an oversized tin can in the sky with this man, he was going to know exactly who he was. Therefore, provoking him was the next best option, besides, he’d been wanting to knock him down a peg or two, and this seemed like a wonderful opportunity to do so.

“Oh? How so?” Albert asked, sounding and appearing as though the insult levied at him had been an actual comment that didn’t warrant offense. Spy let just the barest smirk creep onto his face, before stating in an intentionally absentminded tone, “Well, the both of you just seem to share certain traits, certain… ways of speaking, and personal images of yourselves.”
“Well, we are brothers, so I guess that would explain that, wouldn’t it?”

“Half-brothers.” Spy corrected, and finally, finally, Albert seemed to pause in his thoughts and actions, though he didn’t lose his crooked smile. Instead, he made sure to fix his gaze on Spy, look him over for a moment, before saying in an oddly cold tone, “Brothers. We’re brothers, and don’t you ever forget that, alright? I ain’t deal in nunna this half shit, we got the same heart, same blood, same Ma, our sperm donors don’t count for shit, got it?”

At last, a chip in the ice that was Alberts overwhelming confidence and ego. Of course it would be his family, the man's entire personality seemed to revolve around it. No matter, if that’s what Spy needed to poke at to reveal that thing that uneased him, then that’s what he was going to poke.

“Of course, I meant no offense,” Spy apologized in the most disingenuous genuine tone he could afford, “I forgot that you and your brothers' fathers were a sore subject to you, though I understand why that would be.”
“Apology accepted,” Albert stated, his tone instantly matching Spy’s, “though I would encourage you not to say somethin’ like that again. I get that some folks like to get caught up in details, and are really blood oriented, but that ain’t how I roll, and I again encourage you to not roll that way either.”
“Certainly, I myself never really understood the obsession with family and blood ties, it just seems so… ridiculous, how some men would give up everything for blood, even when that blood has done nothing for them.”

“Right? It’s ridiculous!” Albert quickly agreed, much to Spy’s surprise, “I mean, yeah, my family is my life, and they are the most important thing to me, but if I ain’t important to them too, well, that’s gonna cause a problem when I get called up for a favor. I mean, I’d lay my life down for my brothers and Ma, but my brother Tommy? My uncle Casey and aunt Linda? Forget it, I ain’t dealin’ with those blood suckers, they can go fuck themselves.”

As soon as Spy had found that edge, he’d lost it, and that pissed him off. How was it that this man was just so impervious to his attempts at aggravation, or was he so stupid that he didn’t understand when he was being insulted. That had to be it, this man just had to be an idiot… or was he just too smart?

Damn it all, who was this arrogant prick!

Wait… That’s the angle he needed to take. That was the thing he needed to poke.

Scout.

“Out of curiosity… if you cannot stand these more insufferable members of your family, why on earth did you agree to meet with Scout?” Spy asked, both genuinely curious, and hoping that this would be the thing to reveal his unease. “Well… Jerry ain’t a bad guy,” Albert explained with a sympathetic tone, as he flicked the butt of his finished cigarette away, “he’s just made some bad choices. I mean, yeah, it was an asshole move on his part to call me up for a favor after five years no contact, but at the same time, I get where he was comin’ from, ya know?

“He knew I’d help, and last he knew there wasn’t anything terribly foul between us, so he thought he’d be doin’ good by you guys, I can appreciate that. That, and while I love Jerry to death, the guy has a nasty habit of… well, not communicatin’. He ain’t an idiot, he just don’t think as much as he should, ya know?”

“Oh believe me, I know.” Spy declared, being sure to make his annoyance more than obvious. “Yeah, I bet ya do,” Albert agreed with a sympathetic laugh, “I mean, ya have had him on your little team for years now, I bet you know all about his-”
“Idiocrasies? Yes, I am more than familiar with them.” Spy interrupted curtly, now starting to light a cigarette of his own. “That boy has caused me more headaches than I will ever be able to count, though I am certain he has done the same for you.”
“Eh, more or less,” Albert agreed with a shrug, “though I gotta admit while he can be kinda annoying, he’s a good-”
“Kind of? Mon Dieu, he is annoying! I have never met anyone so insufferable in all my life! The boy is arrogant, stupid, loud-mouthed, and borderline insane!”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.” Albert queried, his tone of voice reverting back into the coldness it once carried, which was music to Spy’s ears. “Where do I even begin with that imbecile,” Spy said rather harshly, “the boy simply finds so many ways to make himself a pain, I’m surprised no one has killed him sooner for it. For me personally, his incessant talking has to be the thing that I hate the most, he just rambles out nonsense for the sake of nonsense! He always likes to think he’s contributing to the conversation, but he just makes a bigger fool of himself than he already is. I simply cannot understand why he feels the need to talk so much, when he is either talking in circles, or talking about himself!”

“Tôi tự hỏi anh ấy lấy điều đó từ đâu.” Albert muttered under his breath quietly, so quietly that Spy wasn’t sure he even heard him say anything at all.

“I beg your pardon?”
“Hmm?”

Silence then settled between them, an uncomfortable, awkward silence. That only signaled to Spy that he was on the right path, so he decided to keep going.

“Anyway, I’m sure you are already aware of this, but the boy does not know how to shut up. That, and like you pointed out, he does not know how to use his brain. Truly, I have never met anyone so moronic in all my life, and I have met quite a few morons. I could list several examples of his idiotic feats, such as, and most certainly not limited to the time he tried to ask his boss on a date, but I am certain you already know what I’m talking about, at least in terms of his idiotic behavior, which is only ever matched with his immaturity.

“Honestly, that man is nearly thirty and he still acts like a teenage boy! Drinking soda, making crude remarks every chance he gets, never thinking anything through, and his arrogance! Mon Dieu, his arrogance! He thinks he is the greatest thing to ever grace this planet, and flaunts himself around as if he were truly worthy of his self-imposed greatness, which he is not! Albert, your brother has got to be one of the greatest irritations in my life, and if there were one man that I would remove from my team, it would be him.”

Spy waited, he waited for an enraged response, he waited for some grand defense of Scout, he waited for insults, he waited for any of the expected responses a protective older brother should give in defense of his younger brother. Instead, Albert nodded to himself, lit another cigarette, blew out some smoke, and asked, “You’re tellin’ me that in all the all the time you’ve worked with Jerry, you can’t find one good thing about him?”

“Well… I did not say there were not good things about him,” Spy conceded, unsure as to what to do with this response, “there are, however-”
“Yeah, yeah that’s right, you said he was a good friend, didntcha? Along with the fact that he’s loyal, and ain’t no coward. What happened to that sentiment?”
“... I said he was a good friend, not that he was my good friend.” Spy clarified coldly, suddenly a bit unsure if he had made the right choice in speaking so poorly of Scout.

“Ah, ok, that makes sense…” Albert said, more to himself than to Spy, all while he continued to smoke quietly, as if Spy were no longer in the room with him. However, this time, he didn’t lose that edge, instead, it only seemed to grow sharper, all while Alberts stance, facial expression, and eyes still gave away nothing.

Then, he began to laugh.

It started out small at first, just a light chuckle, before it grew into true laughter. It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t overdone, it was as if someone had told a semi-funny joke, it was simply the kind of laughter that lasted a few seconds then was gone.

However, Alberts laughter lasted two seconds longer than what Spy was comfortable with, and finally, finally, Spy figured out what made him so uncomfortable about Albert.

It wasn’t that he didn’t show emotions in his eyes, it was there he couldn’t find any. His eyes never matched the rest of him, his smile, his stance, his tone of voice, nothing. They were blank, no rage, no joy, no uneasiness, they were just there, hiding something… or worse, being incapable of showing anything.

Suddenly, Spy began to wonder if he’d made a mistake in meeting Albert here, away from public eyes, away from the safety of the populace. He began to wonder if Albert had actually wanted to meet him to discuss their mission… or something else.

“I gotta say pal, you are one helluva character,” Albert declared, something about his tone seeming… off, “I mean, shit, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like ya before, and I’ve met a lotta people. Don’t take that in a bad way, I think you’re a pretty complex guy, and I tell you what, I appreciate your honesty, not too many guys would be honest with me the way you’re bein’ right now. Most guys would be suckin’ up to me, tellin’ me how much they freakin’ love my brother, and how great he is… I can appreciate that.”

“Well, while my trade does require that I am a good liar, that does not mean I always have to be.” Spy stated a bit blankly, some part of his mind screaming at him to get away from the situation before something bad happened. “Like I said, I appreciate that,” Albert continued as he blew some smoke from his lips, “I mean, I get it, Jerry can be a lot, but at least you can admit that he ain’t all bad, most other people wouldn’t have done that.”
“I will give the boy credit where credit is due, but that is all.”
“Ok, ok… Hey, it doesn’t make any difference to me, he’s a grown ass man, and you’re a grown ass man, y’all can have whatever relationship you want, don’t matter to me.”

Albert then took in a large inhale of smoke, savored it for a moment, then slowly released it, his mind seemingly in another place, his focus now distinctly on… something else. Then, he turned to Spy, smiled, and said in a rather proud tone, “Hey, I wanna show you somethin’, somethin’ I don’t show a lotta people, but I think you’ll appreciate it.”

“Oh? And what would that be?” Spy asked, getting closer to Albert to see what he wanted to show him, thoroughly intrigued, and completely suspicious. Once he was close, Albert then reached into his bomber jacket, and from a hidden place from within it, drew out what was possibly the most intricate looking gun Spy had ever seen in his life.

“Beauty ain’t she?” Albert declared with pride, showing Spy the rather odd-looking gun as if it were made of gold. “I’ve only ever shown four other men this gun, just four… Then again, I’ve only met four other guys who could really appreciate her, though now, I can say I’ve met five.”
“May I?” Spy asked with intrigue, to which Albert eagerly nodded, before handing Spy the gun with child-like excitement while grinning.

It had the body of a flintlock pistol, long, and round, however, where the flintlock mechanism would be, there was instead a cylinder, one that didn’t protrude, or look out of place, rather it was rounded to match the rest of the gun, as if it has always been a part of it. Even the hammer had been shaped to match the flintlock body, so that it too looked natural. It was perfectly balanced, not too light, but not too heavy either, with the sights true, fine-tuned with care and precision.

The handle of the gun was distinctly ivory, before giving way to the almost black metal of the cylinder and barrel, with an intricate carving of who looked to be Charlotte on the right side of the handle. She appeared almost saintlike as a storm raged around her, yet her face remained calm with closed eyes, her arms and hands open, while around her eight trees stood strong, shielding her from the winds and rain.

On the left side of the handle, the storm clouds transitioned into the smoke from hell's flames, as ragged cliffs and pointed edges helped to shape the flames that rose from those eternal pits. From the flames, seven arms with hands outstretched reached towards the smoke, searching for help, or perhaps pleading for mercy. Oddly enough, on four of those hands were crudely etched X's that were clearly not a part of the original design, but had been added.

Aside from that, the only decor present on the gun were simple, yet intricate engravings within the metal of the barrel and cylinder, clearly there for decoration and nothing more. When Spy went to open the cylinder, he was surprised to find how easily it opened, revealing not the usual six rounds, but seven.

It felt uncomfortable to hold that gun, and very soon, Spy found himself handing it back to Albert, who made quick work with checking the sights.

“That is a very beautiful weapon,” Spy complimented, meaning it wholly, trying to ignore the pit growing within his stomach, “pray tell, where did you find such a thing?”
“Oh, I didn’t find it,” Albert explained as looked his gun over fondly, “I had her made custom, cost me every penny I had back in the day… Jesus, I had her made back in ‘54, bit after I officially sold my soul to the military. She’s my pride and joy, and I tell you what, she’s served me well.”
“I do not mean to sound rude, but that gun looks strictly ornamental.” Spy stated, now wishing he still had the gun to further investigate it, to try and figure out its true purpose.

“Well, ya ain’t half wrong,” Albert admitted as he opened the cylinder to inspect it, “I only ever use her for special occasions, occasions that really call for her.”
“What sort of occasion would that be?” Spy inquired, though deep down, he felt as though he already knew the answer.

“Easy,” Albert replied calmly, before snapping the cylinder shut, “I use her to kill me and my brothers no-good dads.”

It was at that moment Spy knew, he fucked up.

He could feel the blood draining from his face, he could feel his chest growing heavy within him, he could feel his mouth going dry, all the telltale signs that he was in a situation that was well over his head. Once again, he was dealing with death, now in a new form, now with greater passion and purpose. What was worse, he had intentionally aggravated this man, and chances were, he knew it.

“Really?” Spy asked, a numb feeling starting to grow within him as he realized that he had just been lured into a trap. “Yeah, had her made just for that purpose, and lemme tell ya, she hasn’t failed me yet.” Albert declared with pride, now putting the gun back in its usual place, still grinning like a child on Christmas morning. “Ol’ Charlotte here’s never a missed a shot, hell, I’ve only ever shot her four times in my life, and pal, she makes makes some gorgeous fuckin’ music.”

“... You named it after your mother…” Spy said softly, horror, reverence, and guilt swarming him all at once, drowning him, engulfing him. “Yeah,” Albert confirmed quietly, everything about him softening, even his eyes, “I figured that since she’d never be able to get proper revenge, this’d be the next best thing… She deserves it, she deserves to be avenged.”

“So… those ‘theories’ regarding you and your brothers fathers identities and demises… those weren’t theories, were they?” Spy said, forcing it to sound calm, forcing it to sound like a question, forcing it to sound normal.

“Well, kinda,” Albert clarified, his grin turning somewhat smug, “ya see, I’ve only killed four of ‘em so far, still huntin’ three right now, but hey, I’m over halfway done! I think that’s pretty impressive. As for their fates, eh, it was creative embellishment, they all died the same way, bullet to the heart, with me lookin’ in their soulless eyes.”

Spy had made a mistake, dear God in heaven, he had made a horrible mistake.

“Wouldn’t it have been faster to simply shoot them in the head?” Spy managed to ask, putting his hands in his pockets as subtly as he could manage, making sure his grip on his knife was secure. “Sure, but they wouldn’t have suffered any,” Albert explained pointedly, “see, I wanted ‘em to know who was killing ‘em, I wanted ‘em to have time to reflect on what they’d done, I wanted to watch ‘em bleed out. Headshot would’ve deprived ‘em of the time needed to reflect on why I was there, and who I am, a heartshot gives ‘em time to do so.”

Albert then nodded to himself, while taking in a long drag of smoke, then released it slowly, his smile fading away, but not disappearing entirely, not yet. “I’m only missin’ three of ‘em, Benny’s, Jim‘n Roy’s, and Jerry’s. I got’n idea as to where Benny’s is, he’s next on my list, Jim’n Roy’s I gotta start huntin’ for, and Jerry’s… Well, he’ll be a slippery bastard, but I’ll git him, you mark my words on that, all seven of them are gonna die.”

Spy was drowning now, drowning in his terror, drowning in his guilt, drowning in the understanding that he’d been played for a fool, and he hadn’t even known. Albert had known who he was, he’d always known, and through either sheer dumb luck, or masterful planning, he’d gotten him right where he wanted him. On the one hand, Spy knew he deserved this, and that Albert was more than justified in what he was going to attempt, but on the other hand, he couldn’t die, not yet.

This wasn’t the first time he’d looked death in the eyes, no, in fact he was getting some horrible deja vu from his situation with Miss Pauling, but this time… his killer had more than corporate professionalism to motivate him, he had passion, he had vengeance, he had a personal vendetta. Not only that, but Albert Willis was the smartest man in the room, and he had prepared for this, he had gotten away with murder, he had killed his own father, this wasn’t something he was new at.

No, this man had trained himself to kill, he’d put himself through hell to be able to handle everything that was thrown at him, he had sacrificed everything for his mother and brothers, and now he was going to try and kill him

The key word in that sentence was try.

No matter how good he thought he was, no matter how much he thought he’d prepared himself, no matter how personally he took his mission, Spy knew he was the best fighter in the room. He was bigger than Albert, probably stronger too, and he was with no doubt more skilled as well, so he had no doubt that he would win… Then again, if he underestimated Albert again, he might just have to shoot himself from the shame of it.

Albert wasn’t a snake, nor was he a liar, but he was a killer, and he was going to try to kill him.

Let him try, let him have his best shot, Spy was ready, and if he had to, he’d kill him first, though that wasn’t what he wanted to do. No, he’d be happy if he could walk away with having knocked the man down a few pegs, but if the fight ended in death… so be it.

Then Albert blinked, and all at once, Spy knew that one of them was not going to walk away alive, for when he did this, Alberts eyes finally showed emotion.

That emotion was hate, pure, unfiltered, undying, hate.

He had hidden this hate, for how long, Spy wasn’t sure, but he had hidden it. That was what had uneased Spy, that hidden hatred simmering just below those sky blue eyes… eyes he shared with his mother.

After releasing more smoke, Albert then looked Spy in the eyes, his smile growing once again, and with venom lacing every word, he asked, “You uh, you understand what’s happening right now, pal?” Spy tightened his grip around his knife, and forced himself to give a confident smile, as he relaxed himself in preparation for the fight ahead. “I do.” he replied, now most definitely wishing he was with Medic again.

Albert then gave a relieved sigh, and with a small chuckle, he very coldly said, “Good, good, cause man, I tell you what… I’d hate for you not to understand what’s about to happen… Especially when I never told you my mothers name.”

Spy froze with that last sentence, before he himself gave a short laugh as he realized his mistake, before he gave a reluctant sigh and wearily saying, “That you did not… That you did not…”
“Right? Funny how that works.”

Then, after flicking away yet another cigarette butt, Albert smiled to himself, nodded, and threw the first punch at Spy, who was currently wondering if Charlotte knew about her eldest’s quest for revenge.

Chapter Text

Where had it all gone wrong?

Really, what had happened? How had this simple situation gotten so far out of hand? It had been so simple, talk with Albert, knock him down a few pegs, and then fly to Australia. It had been such a simple plan… What happened?

Well, obviously at some point Spy had royally messed up, and had somehow managed to give away his biggest secret to this arrogant bastard, but how? He’d never even mentioned Scout or Charlotte, the only incriminating thing he’d done was spit out his drink at the words, ‘he’s French’, but Albert hadn’t shown any sign of knowing who he was at that moment… unless he’d missed it.

Spy would’ve further delved into these thoughts if he had the chance, but his thoughts were quickly recentered by a powerful kick to his stomach, one which sent him flying back. He’d managed to easily dodge the first three attempted hits, and had been expecting yet another failed swing, having completely underestimated Alberts skill… again.

After barely catching his balance in time, Spy quickly dodged as Albert once again attempted a swing, though this time when he moved, he was struck in the side by Alberts left fist, though from there, he was able to start effectively blocking the younger mans blows, always keeping an eye on his legs, waiting for another kick.

As he expected, another kick did come, this time aimed at his knee. With a smirk, Spy moved his leg to the side, just slightly, and once Albert was properly off balance, he struck him in the face with all the force he could find, knocking him several feet away onto the ground. In all honesty, striking that arrogant bastard was probably one of the most satisfying things Spy had done in a long time.

Instead of walking over and continuing to fight, Spy stood still, looking down at Albert as he struggled to get up, enjoying this feeling of power, of superiority. It made him feel alive, seeing that prick finally bleeding, finally being put down, it made him feel so much better about his current situation. True, he doubted Medic would approve of his current attitude, but he wasn’t here to witness it, besides, surely he was allowed to indulge in these more self-indulgent thoughts every now and again. What harm could it possibly bring?

Once Albert was sitting up, his breaths coming to him quick and labored, the younger man felt his mouth with his hand gingerly, and upon seeing the blood upon it, he turned his eyes to Spy, and flashed his arrogant, crooked smile.

That shut down any feelings of power Spy had rather quickly, for something within that smile promised death, and his eyes… Those eyes now shown with such venomous hate, it surprised Spy that he hadn’t seen it earlier. Perhaps this would be a more challenging fight than he originally thought it would be. No matter, he’d just have to put a bit more effort into it.

“You think you’re real clever, dontcha?” Albert asked coldly before spitting out some blood and wiping the rest away from his mouth, now standing up and straightening his posture, his ego still intact. “You think you’re somethin’ real special… Jesus Christ, this is gonna feel good.”
“I wasn’t aware you were a masochist.” Spy stated with a condescending tone, all while straightening out his suit with a smug grin. Hearing this, Albert just gave a low chuckle to himself, before seething out, “You fuckin’ wish.”

Then, Albert crossed his arms around the back of his waist and under his jacket, and pulled out two pistols and began to fire. Cursing both Albert and his own arrogance, Spy ducked behind the nearest crate, further cursing himself when his right arm suddenly felt the all too familiar sensation of burning and stinging that indicated he’d been hit. Much to his own relief, the bullet had done little more than graze his arm and tear his suit, leaving little more than an over-glorified cut.

“I hardly think that’s fair.” Spy declared as he readied his own revolver, trying to ignore the pain in his arm as he repositioned himself, waiting for Albert to appear at any moment. “That’s rich comin’ from you, spook.” Albert shot back, sounding a lot closer than he had been. Not wanting to let this asshole take yet another shot, Spy looked towards a large shipping container nearby, then sprinted towards it, putting Albert in his line of sight as he began to fire.

Unfortunately for him, Albert seemed to have anticipated this move as he quickly ducked behind the crate Spy had been using moments before, and their little game of cat and mouse officially began.

“I gotta say pal,” Albert declared as Spy moved further into the maze of old containers and forgotten crates, “it’s been a long time since I’ve had a proper fight, I’m actually lookin’ forward to this.”
“I don’t believe this is going to end the way you’d like it to,” Spy shot back, noting how the building echoed their voices, “but by all means, give it your best shot, it’s been a while since I’ve had a good laugh.”

Silence followed his remark, causing Spy’s heart to grow heavy, and his mind to worry. While listening for Albert, it occurred to him that Albert might know this place a bit better than he’d originally thought, after all, this was his city. Carefully, he moved away from his current location and walked further into the warehouse, his heart beating calmly, his breathing steady, his mind racing. That arrogant prick was being intentionally quiet, and Spy could have none of that.

“Tell me, what gave me away?” he asked as he peered around a corner, half expecting Albert to be right on top of him. “I have managed to hide myself from your brother for years, how is it that you managed to figure it out in mere hours?”
“Pal, what didn’t give ya away is what ya should be askin’ yourself,” Albert replied with a cruel taunt, sounding reassuringly far away, though the echo didn’t ease Spy’s mind one bit, “I mean fuck, for guy who clearly prides himself on being unreadable, you sure are easy to read.”
“Yes, but what gave me away? I’d like to know so that I don't make the same mistakes in the future.”

“Pal, you ain’t got a fuckin’ future.” Albert promised coldly, and a sudden chill up his spine prompted Spy to lunge for different cover, just as Albert appeared from behind and tried to strike him, instead punching the container. Spy then spun around and fired, only to once again miss as Albert backtracked to where he’d originally been, once again out of view. After a moment's consideration, Spy decided that running further into the warehouse would be better than engaging at that moment, so that’s what he did.

“Anyhow, to answer your original question, it started the moment I saw ya, my suspicions anyway,” Albert explained coldly, now sounding too close for comfort, “it had to do with those eyes of yours. See, me and my brothers all got one thing in common, that being our Ma’s eyes, all but Jerry. Yeah, he’s got blue eyes, but they’s almost grey, ain’t quite the same color, and I tell you what, I ain’t ever seen anyone else with those kinda eyes… Till I met you last night.

“Now, when I saw you, I said to myself, ‘huh, that’s kinda funny, icy eyes, just like Jerry, but hey, someone else was bound to have ‘em’, and I shrugged it off at that. Then you opened your mouth, and remember how I said I’d never forget Jerry’s dad’s voice?”

Spy recalled, and he gave an audible groan of annoyance as his response.

“Perfect, anyhow, once you opened that big ol’ trap’a yours, I says to myself, ‘Now wait a minute, that fuckers French, just like Jerry’s dad, and damn it all if they don’t sound similar, but ya know what? I’m probably just overthinkin’ things right now, lettin’ my mind go nuts and all that shit’... Tell you what pal, you’re a fuckin’ idiot if you don’t get where Jerry gets his knack for nonstop talkin’ from, apple ain’t fall far from the tree in this case.”

It was then that Spy decided he’d better start hunting for Albert, because the longer he stayed still, the higher the chance that he’d get caught off guard… It most certainly was not because he was getting sick and tired of listening to him.

“But those were all just little flags that sprung up, nothin’ incriminatin’, nothing solid, just red flags that I couldn’t really ignore. What really started given’ ya away was when I started talkin’ shit about our no-good dads, cause man I tell you what, you got one shitty poker face.”

“I beg to differ!” Spy exclaimed as he rounded the corner of a larger crate, lunging at the surprised man and tackling him to the ground. There was a struggle as the two men tried to get the upper hand, but in the end, Spy was kicked off of Albert, though before he could be shot, he cloaked and moved away, watching as the bullet struck where he’d been mere moments before. Spy then sat perfectly still, watching as Albert processed what had just happened, before sitting back and leaning against the crate, now reloading his guns.

“That’s a cheap trick spook, that’s a really cheap trick,” Albert declared as he looked about the area closely, “thought you were more of a man, guess not. Jesus, I sure am glad I was there for Jerry, I don’t think I could handle it if my littlest brother turned out to be such a cowardly snake.” Spy merely grit his teeth to silence any curt remark he would’ve made, rage blooming in his chest as he quietly stood up, now readying his knife as he began to quietly walk over. He wasn’t sure why that comment made him so furious, and he knew that he didn’t have the right to feel so angry, but he did, and he wasn’t about to let this arrogant bastard get away unscathed.

“Anyhow, I digress,” Albert continued as he continued to sit, now checking the sights on his guns, “once I saw that shitty ass poker face, I said to myself, ‘huh, he’s looks awful upset, I wonder why he looks so upset over the fact that I’m makin’ fun of Jerry’s bastard dad, everyone should hate those bastards, unless he’s one’a them of course, but there ain’t no way that’s the case… right?’

“Then I started talkin’ about my Ma, and I’ll admit, ya had a good poker face for that, the problem was it was too good. Everyone else was showin’ emotion, everyone else was lookin’ on in horror, and you? You was lookin’ like it was old news, like you’d heard this story before… That’s when I began to think to myself, ‘motherfucker, I might actually be in the same room as Jerry’s dad again, no fuckin’ way.’

“Now for the cherry on top, my favorite part’a last night, when I started talkin’ about Jerry’s dad, and all of a sudden you couldn’t hold your goddamn liquor.”

That would’ve done it, wouldn’t it? Of course hacking up that cheap beer had been the nail in the coffin, he’d been so busy choking he hadn’t been able to get a read on Albert the moment after it’d been said, and by the time he did look at Albert, that arrogant bastard had already gotten a read on him.

Damn it all, two little words had killed him, two stupid words.

“Fear was the first thing I noticed, absolute fuckin’ terror, Jesus it made my heart stop, but you were too busy hackin’ up to notice. Then I started tellin’ the story of how we met all those years ago, and you spaced out real quick… Jesus Christ, you spaced out real fuckin’ quick.”

He had, hadn’t he? He’d been too consumed with guilt, regret, remorse, he hadn’t been focusing on the present moment, he hadn’t been focusing on Albert. Being forced to relive that moment, forced to relive his mistakes, forced to remember his sins, it had just been too much at that moment, it had come up too suddenly. That was the problem with being human, humans weren’t perfect all the time, and mistakes were made, in this case, fatal ones.

What a fool, what an arrogant fool.

“Then came the guilt, so much fuckin’ guilt,” Albert continued coldly as he stood up, now starting his own search for Spy, who was currently standing three feet away, “it made my blood boil seein’ you look so guilty, so ashamed, so fuckin’ sad. You ain’t got the right to feel those things you goddamed bastard, you ain’t got the fuckin’ right… yet there you were, feelin’ guilty, gettin’ yourself outta the room as soon as you fuckin’ could. Don’t think I didn’t notice that too, your quick little getaway, so you could smoke away your guilt… Well guess what pal? I smoke too.”

Spy was careful to keep his distance as Albert walked around him, eyeing him closely for any tell that his position was somehow compromised. All seemed well at the moment, but he didn’t trust the fact that Albert was being so calm, especially when he was alone, a time perfect for panicking or letting one's true emotions show. He shouldn’t be so calm, not when his enemy was invisible, why was he so calm?

“It’s a nasty habit, I’ll admit it,” Albert conceded with a shrug as he pressed himself against the container near its corner, getting ready to round it, “but it does have its perks, for example, I know you’re close, I can smell the nicotine on ya… that, and I can see the blood on your arm.”

Blood? Oh crap-

Before Spy could properly react, Albert aimed and shot one of his guns, hitting his arm in the exact spot he’d previously shot, clearly trying to prove a point. Spy had barely been able to stifle a pained cry before Albert threw his gun aside and lunged, throwing both of them to the ground, just as Spy’s invisibility began to wear away.

Ignoring the now defiant bullet in his arm, Spy waited until the two of them were firmly on the ground, then with his knife in hand, he slashed the younger man in the face, just barely missing his eye before kicking him away, instantly standing once he was free. As quickly as he could, Spy rushed to pin Albert to the ground, taking advantage of their size difference to properly pin him, placing his knife under his throat and holding it there, being sure to apply great pressure.

Not to his surprise, Albert did attempt to struggle at first, fury and panic flooding his face as the realization that he was trapped set it, but he stopped just as quickly, understanding that in this case, Spy had won. As quickly as his panic had set in, it was gone, leaving him calm, yet furious, the image reminding Spy of a feral cat stuck in a corner, pissed off, but not panicked.

“I think this has gone on quite long enough, don’t you?” Spy asked with a cruel grin, savoring the look of anguish and discomfort on Alberts expression as he strained to get away from the knife, the thin line from his cheek up to his hairline bleeding profusely. “Yeah, yeah you’re right,” Albert agreed, but there was no surrender in his voice, nor his eyes, “this is gettin’ drawn out, I gotta finish this before I start lookin’ like a no-good spook.”
“And how do you intend to do that?” Spy queried as he pressed the knife harder against his throat, watching as blood began to trickle down Alberts neck.

“Simple,” Albert declared through grit teeth, his breath labored and somewhat panicked, “you’re in a really bad spot right now, and I’m gonna take advantage of it.”
“Enlighten me.”
“See, you may be bigger than me, maybe a bit stronger, but you’ve really fucked up your positionin’... See, being 5’ 7’’ has its advantages when it comes to dealin’ with lanky fuckers like you, especially right now.”

Before Spy could ask what he meant, before he could even think about applying more pressure to his throat, before he could make some sly remark, Albert suddenly threw his knee up, and effectively struck Spy in his balls.

Of course he cried out in pain, he’d just been kneed in the balls.

Thankfully, he was quickly distracted from this pain as he was punched in the face again, before being kicked off while Albert scrambled away in order to catch his breath. Spy then quickly cloaked, not caring that it was only halfway filled, just needing to take a moment to regain some composure before continuing his fight, this time being sure to cover his wound as to now show the blood.

Both men were still for a moment, simply breathing, but only for a moment. As quickly as he could manage, Spy stood up, wavering for only a moment, only to quickly dodge as Albert took a blind shot in his general direction, then another, and another, forcing Spy to find cover lest he be shot again.

“I… I fucking hate you,” Albert seethed out darkly, venom lacing each and every word, “I hate with such a passion, from the moment I saw you, I hated you… Jesus Christ, I’m glad I get to kill you.”
“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.” Spy assured as he attempted to find the bullet in himself, needing it out lest it hinder his fighting. “I bet it is, spook, I bet it is,” Albert replied, the sound of him getting to his feet quickly putting Spy on edge, “guys like us just don’t mix, can’t mix. I have loyalties, I have beliefs, dedications, you… you ain’t got shit, other than your own god damn hide!”

“That’s not true,” Spy shot back, his blood starting to boil once again, “I do have loyalties, I do have purpose beyond myself, you just don’t see it, you don’t know who I am.”
“Bullshit!” Albert suddenly shrieked, before rounding the corner and making another attempted strike, which Spy dodged before making his own strike, hitting the younger man in the eye and forcing him to stagger back.

However, this hardly deterred him, for as quickly as he was gone, he was back again, as he and Spy began to fight one on one, hand to hand. “Where was that loyalty when my mother needed it!?! Where was that loyalty when Jeremy needed it!?! Where was it then, huh!” Albert cried out, hurt, hate, and rage all mixing into one emotion, an emotion that was starting to stab Spy like a knife. “You have loyalty when it’s convenient, you have purpose when it serves you, you ain’t nothin’ but a cowardly snake!”

“I had no choice!” Spy shouted angrily, knowing he was lying, knowing he was wrong, “I left to protect your mother, to protect Jeremy! If I had stayed, they would have been in danger, your entire family would’ve been in danger!”
“Is that what ya tell yourself to help ya sleep at night!” Albert demanded to know, “Jesus, I don’t know how ya live with yourself, you fuckin’ coward! You ain’t nothin’, just a shell of a man who thinks he’s a fucking god!”

“I loved her! I loved her more than anything in the world!” Spy protested, matching Alberts blows with skill, needing to prove himself innocent, “You cannot possibly understand who I am, nor what I have done! Everything I did, I did to keep her safe! To keep Jeremy safe!”
“Liar!” Albert shot back, piercing through Spy’s lies, piercing through his very soul, “Where was that love when she needed it! Where was that love a year ago? Five years ago! Twenty-six years ago! Where was that love then, huh! You ain’t know shit about love, you only know how to use it for your own goddamn convenience! You left her like she was nothin’, and you dare claim you love her!”

“You think I didn’t feel guilt?” Spy cried out, his attacks waning as his heart betrayed him, “You think I wasn’t torn apart for having to leave your mother! She was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I betrayed her! She saved my life when I was lost, when I was alone, she showed me how to be human again! She means more to me than you will ever understand, and I left her to rot!”

“You feel guilt?” Albert asked quietly, his attacks stopping for a moment, everything about him now turning cold, so very, very cold. His eyes darkened, his stance stiffened, and his smile, his unrelenting, crooked smile, finally faded away into nothing. It had ebbed and flowed, growing and shrinking throughout the fight, but now? Now it was well and truly gone, and with it, any hope Spy had for making it out of this fight without a fatality.

“You feel guilt!” Albert shrieked, officially forcing Spy on the defense as he rained down blow after blow, as Spy’s heart grew heavier and heavier, his resolve draining as guilt flooded through him. “Where was that guilt when you left my mother! When you left Jeremy! My brother! Where was that guilt when my mother was takin’ three jobs to support us! When she was sellin’ her body to the night in order to keep a roof over our heads! Where was that guilt when you left her knocked up with seven other mouths to feed! Where was it then!!!”

Buried, locked away, out of sight and out of mind, unneeded and unwanted…

“None of us had a father! I had to be the man of the house!” Albert continued to scream, steadily draining Spy’s resolve, his volume and hate building with every sentence, “I had to help raise my brothers! I taught ‘em how to be men! I taught ‘em how to live, how to be good, how to be strong! I didn’t go to high school, I was too busy holdin’ down jobs to help keep food on the table! To help get my brothers what they needed to get through school! I stayed up every night my Ma was out, worried sick that she wouldn’t come home! That she’d be beaten, robbed, or raped! I stayed up every fuckin’ night till she was home safe! I wasn’t allowed to be a fuckin’ kid!”

The core of his hate was now laid bare before him, and Spy knew he deserved every word of it. He shouldn’t have been so eager to put him down, he shouldn’t have been so quick to insult him every chance he got, he shouldn’t have been so… so cruel. Why had he been so eager to be cruel… why had he been so eager to hurt him… Why had he needed to be better than him…

A swift kick to the gut sent Spy harshly to the ground, and he found he didn’t have the will to try and get up, to get away, to try and save himself. This was the duality of his mind, either he was a god, or he was nothing, and that middle ground in between that signified humanity continued to elude him, showing only with Medic…

Medic…

Spy soon found that their previous roles were reversed, and he was now promptly pinned by Albert, who was breathing heavily, the blood from his previous cuts dripping down him, uncared for. Blow after blow rained down upon him, and Spy found himself barely able to keep up, knowing he needed to block, knowing he needed to live, yet some part of him told him it was useless.

He deserved this.

“I… I have a team, I have a lover!” Spy protested in vain, feeling his body starting to grow weary, his heart no longer in the fight, “They will wonder where I have gone! They will seek vengeance!”
“I don’t care.” was Alberts reply, his teeth still grit, the force behind his strikes growing. “I don’t care if they question where you went, I don’t care if they try to kill me, I don’t care! When they ask, I’ll tell ‘em the truth! I’ll tell ‘em who you were, and we’ll see how they feel about you then!”

They’d hate him, they would never forgive him…

Medic would never forgive him…

Albert then stopped, realizing that Spy was no longer fighting back, and that no blows were being struck against him. Spy's face hurt too much to think clearly, his body ached too much to protest any longer, his arm throbbed and bled too much to be of use, his mind was too convinced that he deserved this to put any more will power into this fight. Seeing this, Albert grabbed Spy by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close, so that they were face to face, so that he could look right into his eyes, those cold, ruthless, sky-blue eyes.

“You don’t feel guilt,” Albert seethed out quietly, the force behind his words turing into a far more subtle thing, “you only feel it if it’s shoved down your throat, if you can’t avoid it… You ain’t nothin’, nothin’ but a snake… A god damned snake… You’re feelin’ guilty right now though, I can see it… Fuck, you’re feelin’ awfully guilty right now.”

Albert then shoved Spy away, letting his head smack against the hard ground, as he reached into his jacket to produce his personal gun… Charlotte. Spy knew he needed to fight back, he knew he needed to be stronger than this, knew his team was depending on him, that Medic was depending on him… but his head was swimming, and all he knew was that he’d abandoned Charlotte, and that he’d abandoned Jeremy.

“Hey, I wouldn’t take it too personal if I was you,” Albert assured, not quite meaning it, but also sounding just a bit genuine at the same time, “after all, I’ve given this same speech to four other guys. You’re number five.”

Just a number, another notch on the gun, another bastard killed. That would be his legacy, another bastard killed, all in the name of avenging Charlotte. Not a bad way to go, but still, he really didn’t want to die, not when Medic needed him, not when Sniper needed him… He had to be a leader, he had to be stronger than this, he couldn't just give up like this, not so easily, not so quietly.

Where was that rage he'd felt when Pauling that threatened his life? Where was that determination to live? That desire to be there for his team, his lover, his friends his family…

He was better than this, he was stronger than this, he had to be the leader his team needed him to be, he had to be the man Medic needed him to be, he had to be better, so many people needed him, so many people loved him!

Then again, Charlotte had needed him, Charlotte had loved him… and he’d left her to rot…

“You know what’s really incredible?” Albert asked as he put a single bullet into his gun, “This coulda been avoided, this coulda been so easily avoided if ya’d just put in some effort, hell, if you’d just fuckin’ apologized to her, that alone coulda been enough to save your sorry ass! Something! Anything! But you couldn’t do it… Seven men, and not one’a you could even muster up a freakin’ apology… How sick is that?”

He had though… He had apologized… He’d sent money before Jeremy was attacked… He’d tried…

That eased his heart, knowing he’d made amends, knowing he had been better than the others who’d harmed her so… That put his mind at peace…

Wait…

He had apologized.

He had made amends with her.

He was friends with her.

…

HE HAD APOLOGIZED!!!

“Tell you what pal,” Albert said, a bit of, dare he think it, sympathy within his voice, all while he placed the barrel of the gun over Spy’s heart, “because you put in the bare minimum effort, because you actually showed up and saved Jerry when that other bastard came knockin’, I’m gonna grant you somethin’ I never granted the others, that being a couple last words… See that? What the bare minimum can do for ya? That coulda saved you… then again, I really am glad that I get to kill you.”

Spy paused, the revelation that he might actually have a chance of making it out of this situation alive overwhelming him, especially when he had no way of knowing if Albert would actually believe him or not. He doubted the younger man would actually listen to him if he tried to explain the truth of his and Charlotte’s interesting relationship, and he doubted he would actually let him get out enough words to actually articulate it either…

Therefore, only one option was left, one which would either kill him, or save him.

Honestly, it would probably kill him.

“Well, aintcha got anything left to say?” Albert asked coldly, pressing the barrel harder into Spy’s chest as he was snapped from his mind, and back into the harrowing reality he now faced. After a moment's thought, Spy let out a quiet sigh while closing his eyes, savoring life while he still had it, before he opened them and said in a soft tone which surprised even himself, “Actually, could I bother you for a small request? It’s nothing inconvenient, I assure you.”

This in turn caused Albert to pause, before he gave a quick shrug and said, “Sure, why not have a last cig, seems customary enough.”
“Non, non not that,” Spy corrected with a light laugh, most definitely craving a cigarette, “something else, a bit bigger… I would like to speak with your mother.”

Chapter Text

The silence following Spy’s not so little request was probably the longest, and most awkward silence Spy had ever experienced in his life, and he’d experienced quite a few awkward silences. The expression on Albert's face was a mixture of confusion, fury, hate, bewilderment, and just plain awe, those horrible eyes of his never leaving Spy’s, simply content to bore into his very soul, continuing to terrify him. The gun over his heart didn’t falter, the hand holding the gun held firm, and the finger over the trigger remained steady, for now.

One twitch, one flex of the index finger, one impulse reaction was all it would take to kill him, and Spy was helpless, well, maybe not entirely, but any movement at that moment would certainly grant him an early grave, or was it a grave overdue? It didn’t matter, what mattered was that he needed to live, he needed to get back to his team, he needed to get back to Medic, and he most definitely needed to talk to Charlotte.

What a fool he was to give up, what a fool he was to believe that he deserved death, what a pitiful fool.

Perhaps he did deserve death, but that did not mean he had the right to simply lie down and die, it was pathetic, he had so much more to live for, so much more to fight for, so much to make amends for, death was not an option… yet he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel like he deserved it.

He had left Charlotte to rot, he had left her due to his own cowardice, and she had suffered for it… Her children had suffered for it…

That wasn’t to say he entirely blamed himself, there were six other men who had wronged her, but he doubted any of them had truly loved her like he had, had made promises of a better future, held her close, opened their souls… He doubted any of them had truly known her for who she was.

He had though, he had known her… He had loved her… Once upon a time…

As Spy breathed, the feeling of the gun’s barrel pressing into his chest whenever he inhaled made his heart beat just a bit faster, along with making him keenly aware of the fact that he was indeed breathing. Such an awful feeling, but alas, this was what he got for intentionally aggravating this man, as well as underestimating him, insulting his brother, taunting him under his knife, leaving his mother…

Ok, he definitely deserved this, not death per say, but definitely this awful feeling.

Then, Albert took a deep breath in, closed his eyes for a moment, then exhaled slowly, his expression finally settling into what Spy instantly recognized as irked acceptance as he opened his eyes, a face Spy had long since perfected. He then used his left hand, which was currently free, to pull out a pack of cigarettes, open it, and use his mouth to grab one from the pack, before putting it back into the pocket of his jacket. Once the cigarette was secure in his mouth, Albert then reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulled out a lighter, and promptly lit the cigarette, before taking a long, slow, steady drag of it, being sure to keep eye contact with Spy the entire time he did so.

Finally, he exhaled the smoke, not necessarily blowing it on Spy’s face, but not really making any effort not to either, the irritation on his face having grown tenfold throughout the process of lighting his cigarette.

“You see this?” Albert asked while pointing at his face, his tone of voice perfectly matching the expression on his face, “This is me laughing my fucking ass off. Seriously, you see how hard I’m laughin’ right now? Jesus Christ, I don’t even know why I bothered tryin’ to do somethin’ nice, you bastards are all the fuckin’ same. You know what? I blame myself for this, this is what I get for tryin’ to do somethin’ nice.”

Albert then pulled the hammer back on his gun, and Spy’s heart dropped.

“I’M SERIOUS!” Spy cried out, involuntarily shutting his eyes and turning his head away, waiting for that final bang, waiting for the crushing pain in his chest, waiting for the air in his lungs to be ripped away from him for the last time.

Nothing happened, save another stretch of silence.

Upon realizing that he was alive, Spy grit his teeth, swallowed his pride, and very carefully, he pleaded, “I beg of you… Please… let me speak with her, let me speak with Charlotte…” Again, Spy waited, waited for that final bang, but again, it did not come. Therefore, Spy forced his eyes open, and forced himself to look at Albert, whose expression of pure irritation had now shifted into bewildered fury, his pure hatred for Spy radiating calmly from him. There was no joy in his eyes at hearing Spy beg, no pleasure at being the winner of their fight, nor any smugness, he just looked at Spy with those hate filled eyes, the gears in his head now turning.

With yet another exhale of smoke, Albert fingered the trigger thoughtfully, still watching Spy, before stopping this action and coldly asking, “Why should I?”
“Please… just let me speak with her one last time…” Spy pleaded, hating that he was in this position, hating that his life was in the hands of this… man, “You said that none of her previous lovers have ever apologized, correct? You said that none of them have ever made amends with her? Let me then, let me make amends with her.”

Could Spy have simply told Albert the truth? Absolutely. Were the chances of Albert believing him incredibly low? Again, absolutely.

After hearing Spy’s plea, Albert again took a deep breath in, this time turning his head up to the ceiling, clearly mulling over Spy’s request very, very carefully. In all honesty, it gave Spy the perfect opportunity to try and grab the gun away from Albert, and he did consider making a go for it, but his arm had barely twitched when the gun was pressed that much harder into his chest. He hadn’t even been moving to grab it that time, just trying to reposition himself into a more comfortable position.

Then, Albert exhaled his smoke, and looked back down at Spy, his expression having not changed a bit, nor his eyes. It made Spy’s heart drop once again, though despite this, he managed to keep his own expression neutral, and his breathing calm.

Albert's gaze then hardened, and with a voice full of pure venom and hate, he leaned forward to Spy and said, “Because I’m feelin’ generous, because you put in the bare minimum effort and saved Jerry all those years ago, I’m gonna grant your very not so little request.”
“Merci, merci,” Spy breathed out with gratitude, relief, and hope, unable to stop these feelings from showing as life seemingly reentered him all at once, “you are doing more than you know, merci-”

“However!” Albert interrupted, shoving the gun harder into Spy to get his attention again, “There’s gonna be a few conditions, a few things to understand as we move forward. First things first, once you’re done talkin’ to her, I’m gonna kill ya, after all, this is a final request in case you’ve forgotten. Second off, and this is very important, so I suggest you pay very, very close attention, for your own quality of life. If you decide to be a smart ass to her, if you decide to cuss her out, insult her, degrade her, say anything that can be implied as negative, or if she starts doin’ the same to you, I will take some fishing line, and I mean strong, thin fishing line, the kind they use for those big ass fish, and I will tie it around your balls as tight as I can, and hang you from that beam up there! Do you understand me? I will hang you by your balls, for five minutes, with fishing line! Then, I will kill you.”

Despite knowing he was safe from such a terrible fate, Spy would be lying if he said his balls didn’t hurt at the thought of such a fate.

“I assure you,” Spy replied after stowing away his more panicked thoughts, “I completely understand, and I have no ill feelings towards your mother.”
“Are you sure you understand?” Albert pressed gravely, “Because I can shoot you right now to avoid any unnecessary pain or agony, because even if you ain’t got nothin’ bad to say to her, she might have somethin’ bad to say to you, and if you can’t end the conversation on a forgivin’ note, I will take that fishing line, and string you by your balls, for five minutes.”

“I understand the consequences,” Spy again reiterated, now feeling impatient, “and I accept them, now please… Let me speak with your mother.” There was only a moment's pause between them, before Albert nodded in agreement, a smirk now making its way onto his face as he let out a quick laugh. He then took his gun, and slammed the butt of it into Spy’s head, instantly knocking him out cold.

He awoke some time later in a new location, his head throbbing as his body slowly became aware of itself again. As this happened, Spy also became keenly aware of the fact that his hands and feet were securely tied, and that he was currently on a very cold, very hard floor. When he looked about him, his eyes barely staying open as he did so, he realized that he was probably still at the docks, though he was most definitely not in the warehouse he had been in originally. He could hear the wind and ocean around him rather clearly, and when he looked ahead of him, Spy saw an old pay phone sitting quietly a few feet away, seemingly out of place with the rest of the loading dock around him. Probably a quick addition in the modernizing world.

When he tested his bonds, he discovered two things, the first being that they were too strong to simply break or untie, the second being… they were made of very strong, very thin fishing line…

“Hey, ‘bout time you woke up.” Albert stated from somewhere nearby, his voice sounding far too loud for Spy’s liking. “In case you're wonderin’, yes, I knocked ya out, and that’s cause there wasn’t a chance in hell I was gonna walk you to a damn phone, it’s just too risky, what with your reputation and all.” Spy just managed to groan in response, still too groggy to form a coherent sentence, though his thoughts were quite clear. In fact, they were saying that he should kill Albert on the spot, and strangle him with his own fishing line.

“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna call Ma until you got your head on straight,” Albert assured, his voice starting to sound normal again, “I ain’t that kinda asshole, so you just git your head on straight, I’ll wait.” Again, Spy could barely get out a groan, wanting nothing more than to be able to sooth his head, the area of impact throbbing more intensely the more he awoke.

Still, he wasn’t in that bad of a position if he really thought about it, once he started talking with Charlotte, everything would get back on track, and he could return to his semi-normal life. When he thought about it even more, he realized that he would actually succeed in knocking Albert down a peg or two, because there was no way Charlotte wouldn’t reprimand her eldest for going on such a murderous spree.

No, no he shouldn't be thinking like that, he needed to be better than that.

It didn’t matter what Charlotte said to Albert, it didn’t matter if there were consequences to his actions, he just needed to get out of this situation alive, and he needed to get back to his team. Honestly, he needed to start working on himself, for Medic, for their love, he couldn’t continue to be the man he had been, it would destroy everything, and this situation proved it.

He had to change, if not…

“Alright, call her.” Spy said once he was certain his mind was all there, though he did wonder if he was concussed. Medic would know, he would know what he needed, if he was ready to talk to her. He wondered what he would think of him if he knew who he truly was, if he knew all that he thought, all that he had done… That didn’t matter right now, he just needed to live.

“Ok, just remember the conditions.” Albert warned as he went to dial Charlotte, now moving into Spy’s line of view as he went to use the pay phone, being sure to step around him and not over. Again, Spy tested his bonds, more out of instinct than anything, and again he found them impossible to break out of. When he tried to slide his hidden knife down from his sleeve, he was surprised to find nothing fell into his hand, a bolt of panic instantly shooting through him.

He then heard Albert clear his throat, and when he looked at the man, he saw him nod his head to a spot a bit farther away from them. When Spy looked, his face instantly dropped into irked disappointment at the sight of all his tools, knives, invis watch, disguise kit, cigarettes, lighter, and revolver. “Don’t worry, I didn’t take a look under that sock’a yours.” Albert promised as he put some quarters into the phone, which led to Spy’s irked expression now being shot at him, which Albert promptly ignored.

Then, Albert began to dial, and soon enough, the phone was ringing.

It rang, and rang, and rang… then finally, she picked up.

“Hello?” Spy heard Charlotte say over the phone, and instantly he felt a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. This was different than Medic, different than Sniper, this was her, this was his confidant, his closest friend. God, how he’d missed talking to her, how he’d missed their pointless, meaningful, wonderful conversations. It really had been too long, he hadn’t realized how much he needed her until that moment, but now that he heard her, he understood that though they were only friends, he would never find anyone that could replace her. He couldn’t wait to speak with her again.

“Hey Ma, it’s Al, how ya doin’?” Albert asked with a fond smile, his entire stance softening, even his eyes, as if Spy was no longer in the room with him. “Oh my God, Alley Cat, how are you!” Charlotte cried out with pure bliss and excitement, “I wasn’t expectin’ a call from you till at least next week! What’s goin’ on? How’s the kids? How’s your girl?”
“They’re good Ma, they’re all good, promise, and ain’t you worry, Liên’s doin’ just fine, couldn’t be better actually.”
“Hey, I’m allowed to worry, her last pregnancy wasn’t exactly smooth.”
“I know, I know, but the girls are really helpin’ her out, it’s cute, kinda inconvenient sometimes, but still cute.”
“Need I remind you of every mother's day I ever had with you boys? You let your girls help however they want, it’s good for ‘em.”

“I will Ma, I will, that’s a promise. Anyhow, how’re you?” Albert asked again, his smile having grown through their small talk, everything about him relaxed and calm. Maybe that was simply the effect Charlotte had on people, despite her high energy and constant remarks on people's lives, something about her always just calmed Spy, and evidently, the same was true with Albert. Truly, she was one of a kind, and Spy was blessed to have her in his life, and fortunate to have her forgiveness, something he would forever be grateful for.

“Well… honestly, I could be betta.” Charlotte replied, her tone now changing to something more mournful, which instantly grabbed both Spy and Albert's attention. “Yeah? Everythin’ ok, you need me to take care of anything?” Albert quickly asked, which got a sad, yet appreciative laugh from Charlotte. “No, no nothin’ like that hun,” she quickly assured, before she let out a soft sigh and explained, “a good friend of mine just passed away recently, and it’s… I’m just mournin’, that’s all.”

Oh… Oh no…

That’s right…

Spy was supposed to be dead.

“Yeah? I’m sorry Ma, that… God that freakin’ sucks, was it anyone I knew?” Albert asked, nothing but sympathy and care in his voice, his face showing true remorse and worry. “Nah, you wouldnt’a known him,” Charlotte said quietly, before letting out a soft laugh and saying, “you wouldnt’a liked him either, he was a real ham… But he was my friend.”

Oh God… Oh God he should’ve called her sooner, he should’ve called her as soon as he could…

Oh God, he was supposed to be dead, he’d told her he was going to die…

Oh no…

“You wanna talk about it? I got time, I got nowhere to be right now.” Albert asked assuringly, before giving Spy a look that told him he would have to be patient, not that Spy really cared about that at that moment. “Nah, it’s fine,” Charlotte quickly promised, her once sad tone changing to that of acceptance, “you don’t wanna hear about it, besides, you called me, so clearly you got somethin’ you wanna talk about.”
“You sure Ma? We can talk about this now if-”
“Al, I promise ya, I’m ok, now what’s on your mind, sweetheart? Why ya callin’ me?”

Albert then paused, and shifted his stance a bit awkwardly, clearly aware of how strange his request was about to sound. After taking a short drag of his cigarette, Albert then sheepishly said, “Well… I gotta ask ya a question real quick… A real awkward one at that… and uh… well… Ma, ya got time to talk for a while?”
“Course I do,” she promised, and Spy could see her assuring smile as she said this, “I always got time for you Alley Cat, now what’s up?”

“Uh… Jesus Christ, how do I put this… Ma… Was Jerry’s dad French?” The silence that followed Albert's question easily beat the one Spy had experienced not so long ago, and truthfully, he would kill to be able to see the expression on Charlotte's face. However, the awkward and borderline embarrassed look on Albert's face was just as good, if not better, so Spy went ahead and relished that look for as long as he could.

Ok, yes, he knew he needed to change, but he could start that tomorrow.

“I’m sorry, what was the question?” Charlotte asked, sounding very, very rhetorical, as if daring her son to ask it again. “Ma… Jesus, Ma, could ya just… Is Jerry’s dad French?” Albert asked again, now doing what Spy recognized as Scout's nervous shifting, as Albert went to fidgeting with his lighter. “Albert Willis, we’ve talked about this numerous times,” Charlotte declared in a somewhat disappointed tone, “I ain’t talkin’ about you boy’s dads, not when you so riled up about ‘em… Besides, that is a very inappropriate question.”

“Ma, can ya just answer the freakin’ question? Please?” Albert begged, now looking so incredibly embarrassed, his voice sounding incredibly desperate. This again caused another bout of awkward silence, though this time it was nowhere near as long as the first one. While this happened, Albert continued to light, and unlight his lighter, over, and over, and over, as his cigarette continued to shrink with every breath he took. Spy, in the meantime, was desperately trying to figure out how to explain to Charlotte that he hadn’t been killed, he simply hadn’t been certain enough about his future to call her back without sounding like an asshole…

Or worse, a ham.

“Why do you wanna know?” Charlotte asked suspiciously, causing Albert to take in a frustrated breath as he ran a hand over his face, letting it rest over his mouth as he considered the next best thing to say. A look of realization then crossed his face, and after a moment of thought, he stood up straight, took a quick drag of his cigarette, and asked, “Ok, lemme ask ya this… Did Jerry’s dad happen to be a Frenchman who wore a stupid sock ova his head?”

Again, silence, though this time not an awkward one, rather a mortified one.

Once this silence had passed, Charlotte then asked in a very worried, very suspicious tone, “Albert, why’re ya askin’ those kinda questions?”
“Ma, I know I’m soundin’ awful cryptic right now,” Albert admitted apologetically, “I don’t mean to, I’m just tryin’ to ease ya into this… Ma, ya got time for a hard conversation?”
“Albert, what’s goin’ on?”
“Do ya have time for a hard conversation?”
“... Yeah, yeah I do…”

Albert then nodded, before flicking the butt of his cigarette away, and finally, in a very, very apologetic tone, he said, “Ma, I got someone who wants to talk to ya, he’ll make it quick… I’ll explain everythin’ later, promise.”
“Al… You ain’t makin’ any sense, but I trust ya… Now who wants to talk to me?”
“Jerry’s dad.”

For the third time in presumably an hour, the record for Spy’s known length of an awkward silence was broken. This one was most definitely the worst, for deep down, Spy knew that poor Charlotte had probably just come to terms with the fact that she would never to see him again, and now, her grieving had been ruined. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing per say, but at this moment in time, it was probably the worst-case scenario.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, Charlotte finally was able to respond to Albert, and she did so by uttering a single, confused, “Huh???”
“Just… Gimme a moment.” Albert stated awkwardly, before setting the phone down and walking over to Spy, drawing a knife of his own to cut his bonds. “Don’t say nothin’ stupid.” he warned coldly as he cut him loose, before stepping away and drawing one of his pistols, and aiming it at Spy’s kneecap, just in case.

“Hello? Al? Albert Willis, what the hell’s goin’ on?” Charlotte asked worriedly through the phone, and Spy simply took a moment to steady himself as he rubbed his wrists, trying to think of the best way to start his conversation. Truthfully, there would be no good way to go about it, he would just have to hope and pray that she understood… again…

At least this time he hadn’t intentionally left her, at least this time there’d been a proper goodbye, at least this time he had a proper excuse as to why he had left her… well, he hadn’t even left her this time, he’d just thought he was going to.

Ok, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, he just had to be honest, after all, he’d done nothing inherently wrong.

Except for forgetting to call her, but there had been a lot happening, and no easy access to a phone, so really, it was not his fault.

Once he’d swallowed his nerves, Spy got up, and walked over to the phone, straightening out his suit as he did so, needing to be professional about this. He then picked up the phone, but before he could say anything, he paused, finding himself freezing. There was just too much guilt, too much worry, too much fear that she would never forgive him for leaving her again, even though he hadn’t wanted to…

Why should she forgive him? She had no reason to, she had every reason to hate him, why should she want him back?

He deserved this…

“Ok, is this Al on the phone, or is this… Who’s there?” Charlotte asked desperately, confusion echoing in her words as she struggled to understand what was happening. Spy didn’t blame her for this, he couldn’t, so with one last breath to steady his heart, to calm his mind, to focus his soul, he then said, very softly, very carefully, “Charlotte, I know you must be terribly confused, but please, let me explain what’s going on.”

There was a pause, not a silence per say, but a pause.

Again, he was reentering her life with no warning, again he was hoping and praying for her forgiveness, again… he needed her to understand…

Again, she did.

“... Spy?” Charlotte whispered, and suddenly, every worry Spy had vanished in a moment. She wasn’t going to leave him, she was going to understand, and he wasn’t going to lose her. It would be ok, he was going to be ok.

“Oui, oui,” Spy assured gently, feeling his throat starting to tighten as his eyes started to sting, “it’s me… Not my best entrance, but better than nothing I suppose.”
“Spy… What the hell… You… I thought you were… Spy.”

That last ‘Spy’, was not said in the previous bewildered, relieved, shocked, and overjoyed tone that Charlotte had once held, instead it was very blunt, very firm, and very upset. To be completely honest, he had been expecting this, and he knew he was due for it, he was just hoping it would be delayed for just a little while longer. Alas, his life just wasn’t that convenient.

With a weary sigh, Spy nodded to himself, and after taking a moment to prepare himself, he then muttered to himself, “Ah, yes I should’ve expected this… Charlotte, may I please-”

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!!! WHAT THE- WHAT- SPY!!!!” Charlotte shrieked furiously, and all Spy could do was cringe as he pulled the phone from his ear, and wait for her understandably volatile emotions to run their course. “YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE DEAD!!! YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE FUCKIN’ DYIN’!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! I FUCKIN’ MOURNED YOUR SORRY ASS, AND NOW YOU SHOW UP OUTTA FUCKIN’ NOWHERE!!! WHAT THAT FUCK!!!”

“I… I know this doesn’t make any sense,” Spy tried to quickly explain, “and believe me, I am very sorry that this is how we are meeting again, but you must understand-”
“Oh? Oh must I? MUST I!!!” Charlotte shot back, causing Spy’s guilt to flare once again, along with his ever-constant fear of rejection. “Spy, the last time we spoke, you called me bawlin’ your fuckin’ eyes out, tellin’ me you were gonna fuckin’ die! And you know what? I thought you were bein’ a ham! I thought you were just bein’ fuckin’ dramatic!”

“Charlotte…” he pleaded, needing her to understand, wanting her to understand, but she would not listen, not at that moment anyway. “SHUT UP!!!” She shouted, her voice breaking with every word spoken, her pain and relief flowing seamlessly together, “You’re gonna listen to me right now, you got that! You are gonna listen to me! I thought you were dead! You didn’t call back, weeks passed, and you didn’t call back! I mourned you! I cried over you, and now you-you… YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!!!”

“You think I wanted to!” Spy cried out, his emotions getting the better of him as his heart raced to fix what was broken between them, “You think I would ever want to betray you again! Charlotte, I thought I was going to die! I was going to die! I was saved by nothing short of divine intervention!”

“Well ain’t that fuckin’ convenient! The god of hams decided to grace you with his blessings once again! Jesus Christ, do you get some kinda sick kick outta this!?! Callin’ me up, tellin’ me you’re gonna die, then showin’ up in California two weeks later! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU IN CALIFORNIA!!!”

“That is what I am trying to explain!” Spy exclaimed desperately, though before he could properly continue, the sight of Albert moving in the corner of his eye caught his attention. When he looked over at the younger man, he saw that he had taken a spool of fishing line, and was pulling out a rather large length of it. Once he was finished, he took the end of the line, and made a loop out of it, carefully examining it… fitting it.

He then made the loop much, much smaller, before nodding approvingly to himself.

“You know what, I don’t think I wanna hear your explanation!” Charlotte shot back as Spy’s blood left his face, a pit forming in his stomach as he struggled to find the words needed to defend himself, “I think whatever explanation you have, is probably the most mind boggling, overdone, bullshit explanation you could come up with. I guarantee whatever happened to you is your own damn fault, because that’s what you do! You act, and you don’t think! Jesus, you wonder where Jeremy gets his impulsiveness from? Look in a mirror!”

“Charlotte, Charlotte I need you to listen to me, and I need you to listen to me very closely,” Spy pleaded desperately, now truly afraid that she might hang up out of pure anger, “I have an explanation, and I swear to you, there is a very good reason as to why I did not call you sooner.”
“I fuckin’ bet!” she exclaimed sarcastically, “It probably has somethin’ to do with the fact that you can’t regulate your emotions, or got too wrapped up in your own head to think straight! I know you had a lot goin’ on, but for the love of God, you had no right to leave me hangin’ like that!”

“Charlotte-”
“I don’t even know what else to say to ya! I just don’t! I have been worried sick about you and Jeremy, I’ve been mournin’ for two weeks, I’m finally startin’ to move on, and I get this crap! I don’t get no updates on your big ass battle from you or Jeremy, I don’t know if either of you’s alive, and suddenly I get this!!! BULLSHIT!!! I outta hang up, I don’t gotta be dealin’ with this crap, not when you keep diggin’ your own goddamn grave! Maybe I will hang up this time, finally put my foot down on your bullshit, show you what’s what for showin’ up outta nowhere after tellin’ me you were a dead man walkin’! I think I just might!”

“CHARLOTTE, YOUR SON IS GOING TO KILL ME!!!” Spy shrieked desperately, a final act to try and save his god forsaken soul, and to maybe, just maybe, make her understand.

Once again, there was a pause, a long, quiet, awkward pause.

During this time, Spy realized that his heart had somehow leapt into his throat, and that he was terribly out of breath. That, and he was sweating rather profusely. He was aware of every breath he took, he was aware of every fiber in his being, and he was aware that he was gripping the phone far harder than it needed to be gripped.

He just wanted her to understand, that was all, he just wanted her to at the very least hear him out, then make her decision. He didn’t blame her for her assumptions, he didn’t blame her for her anger, and he most certainly didn’t blame her for how she spoke to him, she had every right to feel the way she felt, but he needed her to hear his full story.

He needed her to know that this time, this wasn’t his fault.

Again, she heard him out.

“... What!?!” she exclaimed in the most confused, bewildered, and downright irritated tone Spy had ever heard her use in his life, and in his experience, that was saying something. “Your son is going to kill me!” Spy shouted again, very intentionally keeping his eyes away from Albert, just in case. “I am calling you like this because I have no other choice! You think I wanted to speak to you again like this? You think I have simply forgotten about the last time we spoke? Mon Dieu, I haven’t had time to even think about touching a phone!”

“Hold on a minute, just hold on a minute!” Charlotte ordered, the gears in her head now starting to turn. A minute was then held, a very long, very uncomfortable minute, before she continued with, “Why the fuck are you with Albert? Why the fuck are you in California? And why the fuck aren’t you dead!?!”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to explain!” Spy cried out with exhaustion as he leaned his body against the phone booth with his left arm, promptly letting his head fall against it, “Me and my team originally went to Albert because Scout said he was a pilot, and we needed to get to Australia rather-”
“Australia!?! What happened to you being dead!?!”

“I don’t know!!!” Spy cried out in utter despair, finally letting the dam of emotions he’d been holding onto release onto Charlotte, “I was supposed to die! I’d planned everything out, I’d shared a few nice moments with Medic, I’d said what I’d needed to to Sniper, but she never killed me! Non, non instead, after a week of silence, the army shows up at my base, because some billionaire named Grey wanted us dead! We all barely escaped and had hardly settled down, when Pauling showed up, demanding I help stop Gray, because the Administrator has been killed, the Mann brothers have been killed, let’s just assume everyone but us has been killed!

“I refused, but no, she now apparently knows where Ludwig is, and unless I help her, she won’t tell me where he is, so now, I must go to Australia to stop some ancient billionaire from taking over the world! A world I don’t care about!

“And as for me not calling you sooner, well let me tell you this, I have been very preoccupied with trying to find Engineer! WHO IS NOW ALSO MISSING!!! Oui, during that ‘big ass battle’ as you described it, someone abducted him while he was recovering from killing his own father. Not to worry though, everyone else is alive and accounted for, Jeremy included, but I am now missing two people!

“On top of that, Medic is not getting better! He says that he is, he says that he is doing fine, but Mon Dieu, the man has no poker face! He is in pain every day, I feel like he is getting worse, yet I have no solid proof, and he refuses to elaborate on it! I am certain you find great irony within that statement, and you know what? You’re right! I guarantee you God is laughing His ass off at me right now, all while Medic prays to Him for mercy! How sick is that!?!

“Charlotte, I wanted to call you, I swear to you I did, but I didn’t know what my life would look like! Every night for a week I went to sleep, fearing that it would be the last time I slept, that it would be my last time holding Medic, that it would be my last night alive! I could not call you while knowing that I might have to say goodbye again, I could not do that! Call me weak, call me a coward, call me foolish, but Charlotte, my heart could not take it, and quite frankly, I don’t think yours could either.

“You are right though, Charlotte, you are right, I should have told you about the outcome of the battle, I should have at the very least told you that we all made it out alive, that Jeremy made it out alive, and I am sorry I did not. Please, please Charlotte, I did not mean to harm you, I did not mean to worry you so… I was searching for Engineer, I was worrying myself sick, I was waiting for death, I did not even think of you, and for that, I am sorry… Please, please… Can you forgive me? I swear to you, I did not mean to neglect you, I swear it…

“Please… Please…”

Somewhere in his mad ramblings, Spy’s voice had broken, and tears had begun to streak down his face uncontrollably, while his breaths no longer came to him steadily. This was different from when he’d spoken to Sniper, it felt different, as if somehow it were more intimate, more damning, more sincere. He knew it wasn’t, not really, but it felt that way. Perhaps it was because of their history, and the unspoken truth that he had no right to be speaking with her, a truth that they both knew, yet never really acknowledged.

True, they’d discussed their relationship, what had become of it, and what would never again exist between them, but they’d never really, truly talked about Spy’s return, and why he’d done so. The truth was, he’d done so because he’d discovered that his colleague was, in fact, his son, and that had unburied an astronomical amount of feelings that he’d mostly learned to forget and ignore. However, with Scout now in his everyday life, he found he simply couldn’t ignore those feelings any longer.

So, out of guilt and regret, he’d gone back to Boston, and found her. He’d given no warning, no letter in advance, he’d simply appeared again, asking, no, begging for forgiveness… and for some reason, she’d given it to him. They both knew he didn’t deserve it, they both knew he’d come back out of selfishness more than his true conscience, and they both knew that after that night, they would probably never see each other again…

Surprisingly enough, that was not what had happened, and despite everything, Spy found himself calling her on a near monthly basis, just… missing her, not as a lover, not anymore, but just as a person, a companion, a friend.

Thus, she’d become his confidant, whether he liked it, or not.

In turn, this led to the thought of losing her to something that had absolutely been beyond his control hurting his heart more than words could possibly describe. She was right about the fact that he often got himself into situations that he didn’t need to be in due to his own, dare he think it, idiocracies, however, this time it really, really wasn’t his fault, and he just wanted her to know that.

He wanted her to know that he was trying to be better, and that slowly, he was changing, and he was acknowledging his faults.

He just hoped that she believed him…

“Ok… Ok lemme just… Lemme just think for a second.” Charlotte said softly, her voice now adopting a far more patient, far more understanding tone. That was enough to dissolve every doubt Spy had about the future of their relationship, and simultaneously, the future of his life. Of course she believed him, of course she heard him out, of course she was willing to understand, she always heard him out, even when he didn’t deserve it.

A trait he then realized Medic shared with her, and he simply couldn’t believe that he’d been given a second chance at such wonderful, pure love, only to practically be throwing it away again, all because he’d thought he was that much better than Albert.

What a fool, what an arrogant fool.

“So… That stupid war you’ve been fightin’ is over, and all your bosses, save Pauling, are dead.” Charlotte repeated carefully, trying to make sure she had the story completely understood. “Oui.” Spy confirmed, finding himself unable to give much more of a response. “And now some stupid ass billionaire is trying to kill you, because?”
“I don’t know, something about us being in relations with Pauling I assume, but I really don’t know.”
“Ok, ok… So this stupid ass billionaire has hired the army to chase you down on his behalf, real cheap move I must say, and said billionaire is hunkered down in Australia, so Pauling needs you to go and take him down on her behalf.”
“Oui.”

“Alright, and why can’t she do it herself?”
“Apparently it’s just too much for her.”
“You know what? I can respect her honesty, at least she knows her limits. Anyway, you don’t wanna do this, understandably of course, and somehow she suddenly knows where Ludwig is, and is forcin’ your hand.”
“Oui.”
“At the same time, Engineer’s now missin’, so you’re huntin’ down his ass too… You think the same person took the both of ‘em?”
“I don’t know.”

“Jeez, someone needs a nap… Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to be rude, just be bein’ me.”
“That’s alright.”
“K, anyway, while all this is goin’ down, the doc ain’t gettin’ better, and is pullin’ a you and not talkin’ to ya about it.”
“Oui.”
“The irony. Sorry, sorry, anyhow, all this is happenin’... When did this all start?”
“Two weeks ago, right after that ‘big ass battle’, though the army didn’t start chasing us until roughly a week ago.”

“Holy shit. You do need a nap.”
“Not to worry, you son Quincy provided his home as a place of rest for me and my team. He is a very hospitable man, you should be proud of him.”
“Aw, really? Oh that’s so wonderful, I didn’t know him and Jeremy were talkin’ again! That’s fantastic!... They are good, right?”
“Oui.”
“Oh thank God, I was gettin’ worried about them, Jeremy wasn’t exactly… Ah, I don’t matter, it’s all good now, that’s all that matters.”

Charlotte then gave a quiet sigh, one of both relief, and understanding, a sound that brought a small smile to Spy’s face, after all, everything was going to be ok now. “I’m sorry for goin’ off on ya like that,” Charlotte apologized sincerely, not a hint of her usual energy within her, “I didn’t even give ya a chance to explain yourself, I should’ve heard you out.”
“Non, non you had every right to be upset,” Spy assured, “I should’ve called you sooner, at the very least to give you the outcome of the battle, I am sorry I did not do that… You thought I was dead, I think I would be upset if someone I cared for told me they were dying, disappeared, then reappeared out of nowhere in a place I never expected them to be.”

“Well thank you for the validation, but I still should’ve given ya a chance,” Charlotte continued, clearly regretting her previous outburst quite a bit, “I mean, seriously, I didn’t even think about what you must’ve been dealin’ with, I just… I dunno hun, I just saw red.”
“And that’s perfectly fine, mon petit chou-fluer.”

“God you really are such a freakin’ ham!” Charlotte exclaimed with a delighted laugh, which got a small chuckle out of Spy, his heart feeling so incredibly light. “Though, I do have one more question.”
“That being?”
“Why’s Albert tryin’ to kill ya?”

Up until that moment, Spy had forgotten that Albert was still in the room with them, and when he looked over to where the younger man was standing, he was not disappointed by what he saw. The look on Albert's face was nothing short of absolutely horrified, the blood having drained from it some time ago, his eyes wide with mortification, his freshly lit cigarette just barely held within his mouth. He looked shell shocked, as if he were witnessing something he was never supposed to witness, as if every horror he’d ever witnessed meant nothing in the face of what he was witnessing now.

It was by far one of the best things Spy had ever seen in his life, and he had seen quite a few wonderful things.

“Well,” Spy replied smugly, being sure to keep his eye contact with Albert, “it appears as though your eldest has formed quite the desire to kill your exes, which is how I find myself calling you in these rather… odd circumstances.” Again, and I am terribly sorry about this, there was a pause, a long, awkward, borderline palpable pause, as Charlotte absorbed what Spy had just said. Unfortunately, this only boosted Spy’s ego.

Finally, Charlotte asked in a very direct, surprisingly unreadable tone, “Put Albert on the phone.” After a moment of thought, Spy then gave a sly smirk, and replied in a rather suave tone, “Of course, mon petit chou-fluer.”
“Spy, ya really shouldn’t call me that right now, now put Albert on the phone.”

Though a bit surprised at her bluntness, Spy did as he was asked, and stepped away from the phone booth, while holding out the phone to Albert, that smug look he had gained remaining on his face. “Your mother would like to speak with you.” he explained in a far too polite tone, watching as Albert's hateful eyes grew angrier with every word he spoke. Far too easy, really, it was just far too easy.

Albert's eyes then went to the phone, then back to Spy, before he walked over coldly, and snatched the phone away from Spy, gripping it far harder than necessary. After taking a few quick drags of his cigarette to calm himself down, Albert finally turned his gaze away from Spy, and asked in a surprisingly calm, yet very disappointed voice, “Ma… why are you friends with this asshole?”
“Uh oh, busted.” Charlotte muttered sheepishly, as if somehow their roles of parent and child had been reversed.

“MA, I’M BEING FUCKIN’ SERIOUS!” Albert cried out in pure distress, all while Spy continued to watch on smugly. “WHY ARE YOU TALKIN’ WITH THIS CREEP, MA!?!?”
“You mean like right now, or over the past couple years? Cause you were the one who put me on the phone with him.”
“PAST COUPLE YEARS!?!? MA!!!”

“Ok, ok I know this is a lot,” Charlotte quickly admitted gently, now taking both her son and the situation seriously, “and I know you have every right to hate Spy with a passion, and honey, I don’t blame you, but you cannot just kill him cause ya feel like it.”
“Ma, he left you to rot!” Albert shot back furiously, “He fucked you, used you, and left you! I got every right to kill him! You have every right to kill him!”

“I know, I know, but we’re good now!” Charlotte quickly explained, which got an enormous face palm from Albert, along with an audibly distressed groan. “Al, I promise ya, he’s made up for what he did to me, and I know you got your feelings about him, but we’ve worked through our problems.”
“You did nothin’ wrong!” Albert protested in desperation, “Ma, what problems!?! The only problem was him, and I’m lookin’ to take care’a that! You cannot possibly be defendin’ his ass right now!”

“You’re right, you’re right, he was the problem, and he did so some pretty crappy things to me,” Charlotte quickly agreed, “however, he manned up and owned it, and he came to me and apologized without expectin’ nothin’ in return, and I respect that.”
“Yeah? And where the fuck was that apology twenty-six years and nine months ago, huh? Where the fuck was it then? Where the fuck was it when that asshole came and bashed my head in, and nearly killed Jerry! Ma, that fucker needs to be rotting in hell!”

“Before we go on with this conversation, lemme ask ya this…” Charlotte interrupted, sounding both apologetic, and extremely worried, “How many other of your brothers' dads have ya killed? Or is this just a purely reactionary response?” Albert went quiet with that question, and his nervous fidgeting began again as he went to lighting his lighter over and over again, his gaze shifting everywhere but the phone. “Albert Willis, you didn't.” Charlotte gasped in disbelief.

“I did! Ok! I did!” Albert admitted, his fury and hatred still strong within his voice, “I’ve been killin’ em for years, and I dont’ fuckin’ regret it! Bullet to the heart, every single one’a ‘em, and let me tell you, killin’ those assholes has been the best thing I’ve ever done! I guarantee you I’ve saved a lotta woman a lotta hassle, I know I did when I killed my dad! I got four down, and three to go! You hear me! Three to go! I don’t care if it takes my whole fuckin’ life, every one of those fuckers is gonna die while lookin’ into my eyes! They’re gonna know who killed ‘em, and why!”

It was then Charlotte's turn to go quiet, and as she did so, Albert's expression and stance instantly shifted into one of regret, his eyes softening as he shifted his gaze to the floor. For a moment, Spy felt badly for him, after all, no child ever wants to fall from their mother's grace, especially with such angered passion on their lips. To admit to such crimes, to admit to such sins, to admit to such hatred to one who held such endless compassion, that was a painful thing to accept, even more so to really, truly understand.

Spy was more than familiar with that feeling, therefore, he couldn’t help but pity him, if but for a moment.

With a guilty sigh, Albert then ran a hand over his face, thought carefully for a moment, then quickly said in a far softer tone, “Ma… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at ya like that… I just… I’m sorry, I know this ain’t whatcha wanna hear, I know I shouldn’t be doin’ this, but Ma… I can’t let ‘em get away with what they did to you, to us! I just can’t… I’m sorry… I outta move on, I know I outta just like bygones be bygones, like you do, but I ain’t you! I tried, honestly I did, but… I just can’t stand the thought of them gettin’ away with what they did to you, I just can’t… I’m sorry…”

Charlotte continued to stay quiet for a little while longer, clearly just absorbing everything her son had just said to her, letting the weight of the situation really sink in. Then, she took a deep breath in, held it for a moment, and finally said in a very firm, very decisive voice, “Two to go.”

Albert's eyes instantly snapped back to attention at those three little words, all while Spy’s smirk began to grow again, a wave of both satisfaction and relief flooding through him. He had known he was going to be ok for a while now, but still, actually hearing it was a nice thing too. That, and he was finally knocking Albert down a peg, and while he knew he should’ve learned his lesson, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good.

“Ma?” Albert asked, simultaneously confused and upset, the understanding that he would not be killing Spy that day finally starting to settle in. “Two to go.” Charlotte repeated a bit more softly, before continuing with, “Albert, you are a grown ass man, and you’ve seen things, done things, and understand things that I wish you never had to experience, but I can’t help that now. You got a wife, you got two wonderful girls, and a third on the way, and you have been providin’ for this family since you were nine years old. If you wanna go kill you and your brothers' dads, I ain’t gonna stop you, that’s your choice as a grown ass man, however, you ain’t gonna be killin’ Spy, and that’s final.”

This caused Albert to take a very deep, very quick breath in, his cigarette shrinking instantly as he did so. He kept on lighting his lighter again and again, clearly mulling over whether or not he should actually listen to his mother or not, though Spy knew that in the end, he would, after all, she was his mother. In the meantime though, Spy stealthily grabbed his belongings that Albert had removed from him, and made a point to kick the spool of fishing line as far away as he could.

“This ain’t up for debate Alley Cat,” Charlotte clarified when Albert took too long to respond, “I know you wanna kill him, and I respect why you wanna kill him, but he’s my friend, my good friend at that, so you ain’t gonna kill him.” This caused Albert to finally release the smoke he’d been holding, as well as hang his head in absolute defeat, and though Spy couldn’t see his eyes, he knew damn well that they held great anger and hatred, probably doubled now that he could no longer kill him.

After taking a moment to accept the fact that he would not be killing Spy, Albert raised his head again, he declared as gently as he could manage, “You do understand that you’re throwing a wrench into my plans, right Ma? You understand that you are ruining some very well-made plans, right?”
“Frankly my son, I don’t give a damn.” was Charlotte's reply, blunt, to the point, and final.

That merely made Spy’s smirk grow even more, but unfortunately for him, Albert looked over at him just in time to see it, as well as the rest of his smug expression. Upon seeing this, Albert narrowed his eyes, an action that signaled to Spy that he had royally messed up. This was confirmed when Albert stood up a bit straighter, flicked the butt of his cigarette away, and stated coldly, “Ma, you should see the look this fucker's given me right now.”

That comment instantly killed Spy’s smug expression, for deep down he knew that once again, his karma was coming for him.

“Oh? What kinda look’s he given you right now?” Charlotte asked suspiciously, as if she already knew the answer to her own question. “Smug, kinda like how he looked when he was talkin’ shit about Jerry.”
“What.”

Uh oh.

“Yeah, yeah he didn’t mention that, did he?” Albert stated bluntly, now focusing his entire gaze on Spy, “He didn’t mention how he was insultin’ the fuck outta Jerry, or how he was tryin’ to egg me on to a fight? Or how he called Jerry and I, ‘half brothers’? Did he mention how he held a knife to my throat, drew some blood while rubbin’ it in my face? Your good friend didn’t mention that, did he?” Again, there was a pause, though this time Spy knew exactly why, before Charlotte said in a very direct, very firm voice, “Albert, put Spy on the phone.”

It was then Albert's turn to wear a smug grin, as he took a step away from the phone booth, and held the phone out to Spy, daring him to take it, daring him to deal with the consequences of his words. Yep, Spy definitely deserved this, and he decided that he was just going to have to take it like a man.

Without a moment's hesitation, Spy walked over and took the phone from Albert, and placed it to his ear, waiting for the wrath of his confidant. “Ya on, you overdone ham?” Charlotte asked with barely contained anger. “Oui.” Spy confirmed, waiting for the onslaught that he was due for… again.

“Good, good… What the actual fuck were you thinkin’!” There was a pause, and once Spy realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question, he sighed awkwardly and explained, “Well… You see, I was just… You must understand that you son can come across as rather arrogant, and I simply-”
“Spy, Albert ain’t arrogant, I promise ya he ain’t,” Charlotte stated very angrily, “what he is though, is confident, and very fuckin’ sure of himself, and rightfully so. See, there’s a very fine line between confidence and arrogance, but you no longer know where that line starts and ends, cause you use that line as a fuckin’ jump rope!”

“Point taken,” Spy acknowledged quickly, hoping to get this over with as quickly as humanly possible, “and I will admit I took things too far, but you must understand-”
“I understand that you’re tryin’ to rush outta this conversation, and I also understand that you gotta nasty tendency to wanna be the smartest man in the room, that’s what I understand. What that has to do with insultin’ Jeremy is beyond me, seein’ as you were the one who was complainin’ to me that you didn’t feel like ya had any presence in his life! Remember that conversation, ya ding dong?”

Great, he’d unlocked a new insult, truly an all time low

“I… Oui, I remember…”
“Good, now explain to me why the fuck you thought you had any right to be insultin’ my son.”
“I wasn’t… I… I didn’t mean any of it, not really, especially the remark about them being half brothers, I was just trying to… You see, there was something about Albert that just kept putting me on edge, so I figured that since all other options had been exhausted, I would-”

“You would try aggravatin’ him? Insultin’ him? Beatin’ the crap outta him? Hmm?” Charlotte interrupted angrily, and Spy suddenly found he had no proper defense, after all, she was right. “Lemme ask ya this, when you started on that little escapade, were ya thinkin’ of Albert as Jeremy’s brother, or were you thinkin’a him as my son?”

Spy found himself at a loss for words, the understanding of what she was saying, as well as what he had done, fully settling into his heart. If he had won that fight, if Albert hadn’t given up, Spy would have had no qualms with killing him, and he wouldn’t have thought twice about Charlotte, not until afterwards anyway, and by then it would’ve been too late. God, he really, really, really needed to get a grip on himself, he just couldn’t keep doing this, it was getting old.

“... I was thinking of him as Jeremy’s brother…” Spy admitted quietly, shame building within him with every passing moment. “Mmm hmm, that’s what I thought,” Charlotte stated curtly, “now, how exactly were you plannin’ on tellin’ me about that whole ordeal if for some reason you ended up hurtin’ or killin’ my son, huh? What would you have said to me?”
“I… I…” but Spy found he had nothing to say, for there was nothing he could say that would make what he had done right. Therefore, he said the next best thing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I did… I was… I was trying to prove a point that I did not need to prove, and I wasn’t thinking about you… I’m sorry.” It honestly surprised him, how easily those words came out, how genuinely he meant all of them, and how strange it sounded at the same time. Yes, he knew how to apologize, and had done so in the past, but never for this kind of situation, not really anyway, not without some more fight or attempted explanation.

This time though, he was able to just say it, the understanding that he was wrong not burdening him the way it once had. There was no need to be right, no need to prove himself above her or this situation, he just knew that he had been wrong, with no other feelings attached.

That felt weird, wrong even, but he pushed those thoughts away as quickly as they’d surfaced, recognizing the fact that this was what he needed, and this is what he’d been wanting. This was him finally changing, slowly yes, but changing nonetheless.

“Thank you,” Charlotte said, all the anger that had once consumed her voice gone just like that, now replaced with grace and compassion, “Spy, thank you. I know you got a lot goin’ on, I get that, but you have got to use that head’a yours for more than a hat rack, and I know you know how to do that. Still, thank you… Now, you know what you need to do next?”
“Uh… No?” Spy replied, genuinely confused, and really, sincerely hoping that Charlotte wouldn’t rebuke him once again.

“Oh come on, it’s obvious,” Charlotte declared in a very… Scout-like tone, “ya gotta apologize to Albert now, seein’ as you were the one who was eggin’ him one in the first place.”

Ah.

Yes.

Of course.

The next logical step, as well as the right one. He did owe him an apology, didn’t he? That made sense, Albert certainly deserved it, Spy hadn’t exactly been nice to him, nor even polite in any way, and he had been unnecessarily smug about the whole ordeal, so yes, he did owe him an apology. That would be the right thing to do, and he completely understood that.

That did not mean he liked it.

“Spy.” Charlotte chidded warningly, which got a very reluctant, very overdone groan out of Spy, as he forced himself to look over at Albert, who was currently wearing the same smug expression Spy had been wearing hardly five minutes ago. Yes, karma was real, and it was all coming for him at once, because of course it was. “Oh quit it ya ham, it ain’t that big a deal.”

After stifling yet another irked groan, Spy swallowed his pride, the second time that day mind you, a very dangerous thing for a man like himself, searched inward for that feeling of acceptance and acknowledgement that he’d felt when he’d apologized to Charlotte, and really, truly tried to give a real, sincere apology to Albert.

“Albert,” he began, starting to find that feeling again, “I am sorry for the way I spoke to you about Jeremy… I should not have used your family against you like that… And I most certainly should not have pressed my knife into your throat like I did… I… I am also sorry for what I did to your mother, as well as the stress I put you under due to my actions, or lack thereof. You are a good man, and you mean well, I can respect that… Again, I truly did not mean what I said about you and Jeremy being half brothers, I was just trying to goad you into showing your true feelings… I’m sorry.”

Much to Spy’s own surprise, he watched Albert's smug expression fade away the more he spoke, shifting into a far more serious, yet understanding expression, clearly listening to what Spy was saying, even acknowledging it as genuine. He certainly didn’t share his mothers forgiving nature, not at that moment anyway, but he did at the very least give Spy his full attention, and did not brush him off in the slightest. Dare he think it, it almost seemed as though Albert respected him.

Then, much to Spy’s great shock, Albert then nodded quietly to himself, before looking him in the eye and saying, “Alright pal, I forgive ya… not for what you did to my mother, that I will never forgive, but I do forgive what ya did to me, within today’s context mind you.”

Did he mean those words? Spy wasn’t sure, his eyes had once again lost their emotion, though his voice did seem to indicate sincerity, along with the rest of his posture. However, something about him just didn’t feel quite genuine, as if he was saying those words to please his mother and nothing more. Thankfully though, the air around him no longer held the hatred and anger it once had, not quite, not really, instead it was replaced with a calm acceptance, or perhaps more accurately, a grudging one.

He was sure that Albert respected him, but not in any way that indicated he would willingly let him live, not in any way that promised true peace between them, but it was there nonetheless. In turn, Spy shared that respect, that ill balanced, ill gained respect, one forged and bound by the shared love of one woman, and the understanding that for her to have peace, they needed to have peace. Besides, it’s not like they would be seeing much of each other once the flight to Australia was complete, so what was a little false peace between two men?

“There, see? Was it really that hard?” Charlotte asked with a playful tone, which caused both Albert and Spy to share one last hard stare at one another, before Spy turned away from him in order to focus his entire attention on Charlotte. “Non, not really.” Spy admitted honestly, though he did find himself adding a hint of sarcasm in his voice, if only to egg her on a bit, before he thought of one last thing he could do to get under Albert's skin. It wasn’t anything cruel, not really, and while he knew he shouldn’t push his luck… He just really didn’t like the way Albert was looking at him.

“I must thank you, mon petit chou-fluer, for saving my life.” Spy declared in his most charismatic, suave voice, truly meaning it, and knowing there was absolutely no need for this more… insinuating tone. “Truly, I would have been lost without you.”
“Oh, jeez, it was nothin’ personal,” Charlotte replied, her tone sounding flushed and playful, but not in any real way though, “I woulda expected the same from you had I been in a similar situation, besides, even though you’re a ham, you’re a pretty damn good ham.”

“Merci, mon petit chou-fluer, truly, I am undeserving of your grace.” Spy continued charmingly, not looking over at Albert, not yet, instead simply content to imagine his enraged expression. “Perhaps one day I will be able to visit you again, and properly thank you for giving me a second chance… One day very soon, I hope.”
“Oh stop it, you’re so freakin’ dramatic.”

Then Charlotte's breath seemed to catch for a moment, not in a bad way, but rather like she’d put something together. Spy then heard her give a rather disappointed sigh, which honestly he didn’t blame her for, but it was so worth it, before she stated in a rather warning tone, “Spy, I wouldn’t call me that right now, not Albert in the room with ya.”
“What? Mon petit chou-fluer?” Spy asked cluelessly, knowing damn well what she was talking about, “But I have called you that for years, just as you have called me a ham, that is the nature of our relationship, surely you are not asking me to change what as been a part of our relationship since I first met you?”

“Spy, I don’t care that ya call me that,” Charlotte clarified disappointedly, not that Spy really cared at that moment, “and you know that, I just don’t want ya callin’ me that with Albert in the room, he’s liable to hitcha.”
“Mon petit chou-fluer,” Spy assured with all the charisma he had, “I am not afraid of your son, nor do I care of what he thinks about the nature of our relationship. We are all adults, and we are all more than capable of handling-”

Before Spy could continue his sentence, he felt someone tapping his shoulder, not in a rough way, rather it was someone simply trying to get his attention without being rude. When he turned to face the person who had got his attention, he found himself face to face with Albert, who was currently looking terribly unamused, mere seconds before he punched him square in the nose with the force of a thousand men.

This of course instantly sent Spy reeling back, any and all focus he had gone in an instant as he struggled to regain his composure, now doubled over while holding his nose as he struggled to stifle his pained cries, blood already starting to pour beyond his control. As he struggled to stand while writhing in pain, now failing to strife the pained noises coming from him, Albert went and picked up the phone, which Spy had dropped, and put it to his own ear, a look of satisfaction resting on his face, along with a sense of calm.

“Gee Ma, I dunno what happened just there,” Albert explained casually, as if he hadn’t just socked Spy in the face, “I was just standin’ there, listenin’ to this asshole go on and on, when all of a sudden, I heard the voice of God. Ya wanna know what God said to me? He said, ‘Albert, ya gotta hit that Frenchie, and ya gotta hit him hard, he’s tryin’ to egg you on, and he’s gotta know the consequences’, and I was like, ‘But God, I can’t do that! My Ma would kill me, after all, we just made peace, so what if this guy’s bein’ an ass?’ Then God said, ‘Well who ya gonna listen to, Me, or your Ma?’ And I was like, ‘Well, you are God, so I better listen to You.’ Next thing I knew, I was punchin’ him in the face, but hey, who am I to ignore divine instructions?”

“Albert Willis, I can’t even believe you right now.” Charlotte scolded disappointedly, though all Albert did was shrug in response, before looking over at Spy to make sure he was still feeling pain, which he certainly was. “Like I said, God told me to.”
“Yeah? Well guess what mister, it’s your turn to apologize now, so congratulations, you just made your life that much harder. And before I hear any ifs, ands, or buts, you was gonna have to apologize even before your ‘divine instructions’, so you best get to it.”

If Spy could properly focus on Albert at that moment, he would’ve seen that Albert’s once satisfied expression had instantly morphed into one of complete irritation and anger, and that probably would’ve cured his pain instantly. Alas, he was too busy trying to make sure his nose wasn’t broken to bother with it, as well as trying to keep the blood off his suit. In the meantime though, to say Albert was upset with his mothers declaration would probably be the understatement of the century, he was downright pissed.

Alas, that’s what he got for stooping to Spy’s level.

“Freaking unbelievable…” he muttered to himself while eyeing Spy nastily, who was now sharing that look with equal intensity. “ALBERT.” Charlotte warned with a tone Spy had never heard her use before, one that made even him scared for a moment. This also was a sentiment shared by Albert, who flinched away from the phone with a semi-worried look, before he gave a defeated sigh and ran a hand over his face.

He then gave his full attention to Spy, and after doing some of his own inward searching, he rolled his eyes, more at himself than at Spy, and said as earnestly as he could, “I’m sorry for lurin’ ya here to kill ya, especially when I didn’t even give ya a chance to properly explain yourself… I am also sorry for stoopin’ to your level and punchin’ ya when ya were very clearly tryin’ to get a reaction outta me, I shoulda been the bigga person. I’m sorry.”

With an extremely tired and disappointed sigh, Charlotte finally conceded to the situation and said, “That’ll do Albert, that’ll do, ya at least meant the first half… Jesus, I cannot believe you two… Can ya get Spy on the phone now? I’d like to talk with the both of ya.”

This got a reactionary scoff out of Albert, who very quickly apologized to Charlotte before she could make any further comment. He then turned to Spy and nodded for him to come to the phone, while holding it out at such a distance where both could share it comfortably. Reluctantly, Spy did join Albert at the phone booth, still holding his nose to keep the blood from spilling everywhere, though thankfully it was starting to lighten.

“Ya both there?” Charlotte asked gravely, her patience clearly at its end. Once it was confirmed that they were both there, she continued with, “Good, now listen up, and I mean really listen up. You are both grown ass men, and I expect you to act like grown ass men, though maybe I should be askin’ ya to act like grown ass women, seein’ as we’re less likely to throw our dicks around to prove a point. Anyway, Spy, stop pokin’ Albert, he’s gonna kill ya if ya keep it up, and I don’t blame him. Albert, stop tryin’ to hit Spy every chance ya get, it’s immature and I know you’re better than that.

“You guys are gonna have to get along until ya get to Australia, and surely, the both of ya manage that. You are both very accomplished men, who have lived very intense lives, and I know that you can survive being in each other's presence for the next day or two. Now, please, for the love’a God, quite actin’ like idiots, and just tolerate each other, ya don’t have to like each other, just tolerate each other, am I clear?”

“Oui, Charlotte.”
“Yeah, Ma.”

“Good, good… Jesus Christ, I cannot even believe this is how I’m spending my Saterday… Anyhow, I’m gonna hang up now and go back to enjoyin’ my day off’a work, if ya need anything, call me. Albert, I’ll talk to ya sometime next week, I love ya, tell your girls I said hi, and that I can’t wait to see ‘em again. Spy, we’ll talk more once ya land in Australia, stay safe, I love ya, don’t kill any of my sons. We good? We all good? Ok, I’m gonna go now, I love you both.”

“Love you too, Ma, talk to ya later.” Albert promised fondly, before pausing, and sighing quietly, and saying rather guiltily, “Sorry for the trouble, I didn’t think it’d get this big…”
“I know hun, I know, and I appreciate that.”
“Thanks, Ma.”

“I also apologize for dragging you into this, I just… Well quite frankly, I didn’t know what else to do.” Spy admitted quietly, knowing damn well he was only alive because of her, and respecting it. “That’s alright hun, ya did that right thing,” Charlotte assured kindly, “I woulda called me too if I was in your spot. Now, take care’a yourself, take care’a your doc, and take care’a your team, and try not to stress too much.”
“Heh, no promises.”
“Fair enough, hun, fair enough… Alright, I love ya both, I’ll talk to ya both later, ok?”

“Bye, Ma, love ya.”
“I will talk to you later, mon-... Charlotte.”

With a short laugh from Charlotte at Spy’s quick save, she gave one last farewell, before hanging up, and leaving the two men alone with each other.

Neither one of them said anything for a while, both simply too busy absorbing all that had just happened to really bother with each other just yet.

This did not last very long though, at all.

“Congradulations,” Spy declared with potent sarcasm while lighting a cigarette, as Albert silently hung up the phone, clearly still mulling over what had just happened, “you have done nothing but waste my time, and get us both in trouble with your mother. Truly, a wonderful way to spend my morning.” While taking his first drag of his cigarette, Spy couldn’t help but pause and groan quietly at the sharp pain he felt in his nose, the deep inhale causing discomfort. “Now if you will excuse me, I have far more important things to attend to other than speaking with you, not that I believe we have anything further to talk about.”

With that, Spy began to walk away, truly feeling like there was no reason for him to stay, and just wanting to get on with his ridiculous mission, as well as get back to Medic. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to rejoin him in bed, after all, his lover was probably already awake and moving about, but he just wanted to be with him, hold him, and silently promise that he would never do anything like this again. Up until this point, Spy had never really considered his ego a dangerous thing, not when it came to his own personal safety anyway, though this lesson would not be something he would soon forget.

Definitely for the best, a hard lesson to learn, but a good one nonetheless.

“I ain’t done with you yet, asshole.” Albert shouted angrily, his voice still oddly confident despite his loss, though at that point, Spy couldn’t even be bothered to face him, he just didn’t care. “Your mother begs to differ.” Spy retorted with annoyance, now taking another, steadier drag of his cigarette, trying very hard not to strain his wound. Honestly, what more could that prick possibly want from him? Hadn’t he done enough already?

“This ain’t got nothin’ to do with her,” Albert clarified coldly, though Spy simply continued to walk away without a care, “your actions are still gonna have consequences, I ain’t lettin’ ya off that easy!”
“I’m certain.” Spy replied without a care, half wondering if the younger man was about to pull his gun on him, but seriously doubting it. Most likely he was just blowing off steam, and this was how he chose to go about it. Whatever, let him, it didn’t matter, he didn’t matter.

“You don’t fuckin’ get it spook! I know you're Jeremy’s dad!”

That was the comment that finally froze Spy in his tracks, for while he had already known that Albert knew that, the full weight of that understanding hadn’t been allowed to properly settle, until then.

Albert knew he was Scout's father…

Suddenly, a feeling of fear so powerful, and so overwhelming gripped his heart in a way he had never felt before, and it strangled him. This was different from anything he’d ever felt before, this fear, this suffocating, cold, terrible fear, it etched its way throughout his entire body, every fiber, every vein ran cold, all his thoughts went blank in the face of this horrible, unfathomable reality.

Albert knew the truth, and he was not going to stay quiet.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Spy seethed out darkly, fear, malice, and venom drowning every word as he turned to face Albert, who was now walking over to him, quickly closing the distance Spy had established. “You’re right, I wouldn’t,” Albert agreed with equal spite, stopping mere inches away from Spy, ignoring the great height difference between them, “not right now anyway, not with so much on the line. You guys got a big ass mission in front of ya, and droppin’ a bomb like that would fuckin’ destroy your team, and I ain’t that kinda asshole… However, you better believe I’m holdin’ that card.”

“What do you want from me? Money? Power? Name it, it’s yours.” Spy swore, hoping, praying he didn’t sound desperate, “Whatever you want, I will get it for you, what do I need to give you to buy your silence? Nothing is to grand, nothing is-”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Albert interrupted coldly, causing Spy’s heart to beat faster, and faster, and faster, “I don’t give a shit about what you can or can’t do for me, this ain’t about that. This is about my brother, and the fact that you left him to rot along with my mother. You know what I want? I wanna shoot you in that black heart’a yours, and watch the life drain from your eyes, that’s what I want, but I can’t have that, so, I’m goin’ for the next best thing.

“Spook, I’m givin’ you one year to fess up to my brother, one year to tell him the truth about who you are, and what you did. I don’t care when ya do it, I don’t care how ya do it, as long as it’s done, I’ll be happy. If ya don’t, I’ll tell him myself.”

This wasn’t happening, this was a nightmare, this had to be. There was no way he was being blackmailed, he hadn’t been blackmailed since he was a young man, and it had been by foes far greater than this… this bastard! Who did he think he was, did he have any idea as to who he was dealing with! He could make his life a living hell if he wanted, he could take everything from him, he could destroy everything he’d worked for!

Albert knew that though, and just like Spy, he had Charlotte's protection.

Stuck, they were stuck, but Albert had that much power over Spy, and there was nothing he could do to change it. Albert knew the truth, and he couldn’t kill him… wouldn’t kill him…

Still…

“If you were not Charlotte's son, I would kill you for your insolence!" Spy spat out furiously, having never felt so trapped in his entire life, having never felt so suffocated in all his years of work, having never felt so terribly, terribly cold. This feeling… it was terrible, indescribably terrible, and he couldn’t escape it. It was like a fog, slowly moving throughout him, engulfing him wholly, blinding him. There was nothing now, nothing but this hate, nothing but this fear, nothing but this… dare he think it, hurt.

He didn’t deserve to hurt, yet he did, he hurt.

In response to Spy’s borderline threat, Albert merely looked him up and down for a moment, sizing him up, getting a read on him with those cold, emotionless eyes. Then, he quickly grabbed the cigarette from Spy’s lips, put it into his own mouth, and took a long, slow, deliberate drag from it, keeping his own eyes on Spy’s the entire time he did so, before blowing the smoke out calmly, not into Spy’s face though, but most certainly onto him.

“Yeah?” Albert asked, begging for a fight, begging for a reason to shoot, begging for any reason to kill, “Well it’s because I’m Charlotte's son that you wouldn’t get very far in that attempt, seein’ as she knows how to raise a proper man.”

Spy found himself beyond words, beyond coherent thought, beyond reason, his anger having grown so great that it was all he knew, all he felt, all he understood. There was nothing but feeling, there was nothing but terror, there was nothing but hate, there was nothing but the knowledge that he was breathing.

In, and out.

In, and out.

In, and out.

If he didn’t feel those breaths, each and every one, then he would’ve lost himself, for if Scout knew the truth, surely the rest of his team would be sure to find out as well, such was the nature of their relationships. Losing Scout he could stomach, maybe, possibly… No, no he couldn’t, as much as the young man irked him, as much as he angered and annoyed him, he still loved him, he still cared for him, and losing him to this… this truth, it just wasn’t right.

He wouldn’t just be losing Scout though, he’d be losing everyone… he’d be losing Medic. Medic would never forgive him, how could he? He’d abandoned his lover and son with hardly a second thought, he’d left them to rot, Scout didn’t even know his father was alive, and Medic was supposed to forgive that? Medic was supposed to understand that?

He would never forgive that, he would never understand that.

His team, his team that was his family, his home, his entire life, they would all be gone, they would all be gone and there would be nothing he could do to stop them. Only Sniper would remain, only Charlotte would remain, but they could never fill the hole his team would leave… they could never fill the hole Medic would leave…

One year, one year left with his team, one year left with Medic, one year left with a meaningful life… This had to be a nightmare, please dear God, let this be a nightmare.

With that, Albert sighed quietly, more to himself than for any real reason, and began to walk away from Spy, now heading to Quincy’s house, now ready to fly Spy and his team to Australia. “You comin’ or what?” he asked while glancing behind at Spy, who still hadn’t moved, too stiff from the overwhelming emotions he was feeling. Seeing this, Albert paused, and waited patiently for Spy to return to his senses, knowing very well that he was panicking, and taking some small amount of satisfaction in the fact that Spy would be facing consequences for his actions, one way, or another.

Finally, Spy managed to get one last troubled breath out through gritted teeth, before turning and walking after Albert, wanting nothing more than to be alone, needing time to just… accept his new reality, one where his greatest secret was no longer a secret.

It sickened him, it angered him, it terrified him, but there was nothing he could do.

“Pray tell, how do you plan on explaining our current state to your brothers and my team?” Spy asked, needing something, anything to distract him from his feelings, lest he drown and lose himself forever. “City’s a dangerous place, shit happens.” Albert declared with an uncaring tone, and Spy found himself unable to say anything else, he just couldn’t.

For the first time in a long time, he had been well and truly bested, and he just didn’t know what to do. This hadn’t been his fault, there had been no exterior force driving the outcome, it had just been them, mind against mind, body against body, and he had lost.

Dear God, he had lost everything.

Chapter Text

The morning air was cool, not cold, but cool, nice even, the kind of cool that gave a person loads of energy for no reason at all. Medic felt that energy, he felt the cool air enter his lungs with every breath he took, which in turn allowed him to feel every fiber in his being, every limb, every muscle, everything, and he felt good. For the first time in a long time, he felt good.

He wasn’t sore, he didn’t feel any aches, he didn't feel stiff or uncomfortable, nor did he feel the ghosts of open wounds or battered flesh, he only felt himself, just as he was. There was no hurt, there was no fear, everything felt right. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

Medic had awoken to an empty bed, but he’d been expecting that, for Spy had told him that he’d be leaving early to have a personal talk with Albert about the future, as well as the finer details of their mission. Still, he had been hoping that he’d be back by now, but that had been an optimistic thought, and he knew it. All the same, it was nice to enjoy the morning alone, and to be able to simply get up and ready in his own time, not that Spy’s company was bad, quite the opposite, it was just nice to be alone after being with people for so long.

That was how Medic found himself sitting on the front step of Quincy’s house, simply enjoying the cool, wonderful morning air, all while listening to the sounds of the city around him. That, and the sound of Sniper currently playing his saxophone on top of his van, while a herd of hippies sat around it, seemingly enjoying the ‘vibes’ of it, as hippies do. Whether or not Sniper was aware of the crowd he’d produced was beyond Medic, but he decided not to say anything, and just sat quietly instead.

It was nice, listening to Sniper's music as the sun slowly grew warmer and warmer, and it was nice just being able to sit quietly without feeling any pain. It was wonderful, it was quiet, and it was his.

The sound of the door opening behind him broke his quiet meditations, but didn’t ruin his overall mood. When he glanced behind, he saw that it was Demo who had joined him, wearing little more than sweatpants and a hoodie, holding a mug of coffee, the sleep still heavy within his eye as he let out an absurdly large, absurdly loud yawn. Thankfully, Sniper didn’t notice, and simply continued his music obliviously, all while Medic gave him a fond, yet amused smile, wondering if Demo was even aware of his presence.

It turned out that he wasn’t, for as soon as Demo actually looked around at his surroundings, he let out a surprised noise at the sight of Medic and exclaimed, “Oh! Lad! I didn’t realize ya were out here!”
“Evidently not.” Medic replied innocently, unable to hide his amusement at his friend's startled, semi- embarrassed state. After taking a moment to wake himself up a bit more, Demo then let out a quiet laugh before sitting down next to Medic, and taking a big sip of his coffee, clearly in need of it.

“I assume you slept well?” Medic asked as Demo finished swallowing his drink, to which Demo gave an affirmative noise, along with a quick nod. “Aye lad,” he continued once his mouth was free, “the best sleep I’ve had in a while. I must say, that Quincy fellow sure does know how to make a floor comfortable.”
“I’m glad to hear that, I did feel terrible about taking the guest bed.” Medic admitted as he looked back out to Sniper and his herd of hippies.

“Eh, couples privileges,” Demo stated with an understanding smile, “it just made sense that way, besides, I think it’s safe to say both you and Spy needed it more than the lot of us bachelors.” Medic simply chuckled quietly to himself as he looked back out over the city, the memory of Spy’s dramatic flop into the bed the night previous making him feel light inside. The man really did have a sense of humor, he just needed to let it show more often.

There was then a moment of quiet between the two men as they listened to Sniper play, both of them simply content with the moment at hand, and not finding any reason to disturb it. That’s what they both wanted after all, simple peace and quiet, and a bit of alone time. Well, they weren’t exactly alone anymore, but they weren’t exactly with each other either, not really anyway. They were alone together, and it was perfect.

The music was perfect, the air was perfect, the sun was perfect, and the smell of the ocean around them was perfect. The morning was perfect.

The moment of silence quickly turned into several minutes of silence, one that saw Medic simply relaxing with closed eyes as the sun warmed him, and one that saw Demo sipping his coffee while looking out over the city contentedly, just happy to have a proper drink in hand. It was nice, and for the first time in a long time, it was well and truly peaceful.

Eventually though, Demo found himself unable to maintain his end of the peace, and with a very reluctant, very sheepish sigh, he turned to Medic and asked in a lowered voice, “If ya don’t mind my bringin’ it up… how’re ya feelin’, lad?” With that question now in the air, Medic released a quiet sigh as he opened his eyes, half wanting to continue with his constant reply of, ‘I’m fine’, and half wanting to be honest about how much better he was really doing. In the end though, he found himself unable to keep up his lie, and since he really was feeling better, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to admit that he had been feeling poorly, after all, surely that was all behind him now.

Surely it was, surely those pains wouldn’t return…

Surely.

“Can you promise me that you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you?” Medic asked gravely, needing, no, wanting their future conversation to just be between them, for he just couldn’t bear the thought of adding more stress to his lover. Demo paused for a moment, a rather long moment at that, truly contemplating whether or not it was wise to continue with the matter, before nodding quietly, a silent promise to keep whatever was said between them. With his assurance, Medic took a deep breath, before turning to him with a soft smile, finally saying, both to himself, and to Demo, “To be honest… this is the best I’ve felt in a long time, since before… before…” but Medic found he couldn’t continue, his small smile quickly fading as he struggled to keep those foul memories from surfacing, from overwhelming him, from consuming him.

He just didn’t want to say it out loud, what had happened, what he hadn’t survived, what he hadn’t overcome. That would bring the pain back, he knew it would, every time he thought about it, every time he remembered it, every time something brought it to his attention, everything would hurt. He didn’t want to hurt, not when he felt so good, not when he finally felt right, maybe not perfect, but still right, and that was better than he had been since… since…

“Since before.” Demo said understandingly, unable to keep a hint of sadness out of his tone as he offered a smile of his own, one which Medic quickly reciprocated. “Ja, since before.” he confirmed quietly, truly appreciating his friend's understanding. “Aye, well that’s better than feelin’ worse I suppose,” Demo stated, before taking another sip of his coffee, then continuing with, “however… I do recall ya sayin’ ya felt ‘fine’ every time we asked ya, so if suddenly ya’re feelin’ better than just fine… Well, I worry to think about what ya were actually feelin’.”

Medic sighed, knowing exactly what he was trying to say. “Ja, ja… I will admit, I wasn’t… I wasn’t feeling, er, ‘fine’,” Medic quietly admitted, hating the way Demo’s face instantly showed concern, “I… it… I’m better now, and that is the important thing, ja? I hardly think there’s any reason to dwell on the past… Besides, I’m certain it was just the cold making things worse than they were, that’s the case for all wounds, that, and I’m certain the stress and cramped conditions of the van were making things worse as well. I am certain that things will get better from here, this has to be a turning point, a bit overdue perhaps, but still, a turning point.”

Despite his confident tone, despite his assuring expression, and despite his optimistic smile, Demo did not look convinced, his own smile having faded sometime during Medics admission, now replaced with a worried frown, his eye showing nothing but sympathy, and concern.

Medic didn’t want his sympathy, he didn’t want his concern, nor his worry, he wanted to celebrate his newfound peace, he wanted to enjoy his healed body, he wanted to not think about everything that had been plaguing him since… since before. Was it too hard to simply enjoy the moment at hand? Did he really worry his team that much? He didn’t want them to worry, he’d been hoping that they hadn’t been worrying, that he’d been hiding his pain, but clearly he hadn’t been, not well enough anyway.

He didn’t want that, he didn’t want to think about how he had been, he just wanted to focus on how he was… He didn’t want to be a burden…

Did they all know how much he really hurt? Did everyone on the team look at him with such pity? How many secret thoughts were harbored about him, about if he could make the journey, about if he would slow them down, or make things difficult?

What if Spy thought of him as a burden?

Thankfully, he was torn away from his thoughts when he suddenly felt Demo place his hand on his shoulder and give it an assuring squeeze, which instantly brought his focus back to him, and away from his inner demons. To his relief, he found that Demo was once again smiling at him, a more apologetic air around him now, though there was still some slight concern in his eye. Medic could handle that though, after all, he did have a right to be at least a little concerned, that was natural.

“Ya’re right, lad,” Demo agreed kindly, nothing hidden within his voice, “it is a turnin’ point, and hopefully a sign of better things to come… However, if, for some inexplicable reason of course, ya do start to feel poorly again, say, I dunnae, due to the wee spacin’ of the van, ya can talk to me about it, get some’a those foul thoughts outta yar head, eh lad?”

Despite himself, Medic began to smile, quietly sighing to himself before promising, “I can do that.”
“Perfect! Again, this is on the very small, very… unlikely chance things go south again, like ya said, this is probably a turnin’ point.” Demo then dawned a more conspicuous expression, before looking around him cautiously, clearly wanting his next words to be as private as humanly possible. He then leaned over to Medic, and in a rather loud whisper, he asked in an overly grave tone, “Now, call me crazy, but, and just hear me out on this, wouldn’t it make sense for ya to be talkin’ about these sorta things with, oh I dunnae, yar future husband?”

Instantly Medic shoved Demo away from him, his face flushed, and his smile growing, all while Demo laughed playfully, just barely keeping his coffee contained within his mug. “Oh c’mon, I’m bein’ serious!” Demo protested with a wry smile, “Ya know ya can’t just bottle away all your feelin’s from him forever, he’s yar lover, and call me crazy, but last I checked, lovers talked to each other about their problems.”
“I know, I know,” Medic conceded reluctantly, “but I don’t want to make him more stressed than he already is! I… The man is barely holding himself together right now, and I refuse to be the thing that pushes him over the edge.”

“Here, lemme tell ya somethin’ that ya might already know, but I think ya need to hear it anyway,” Demo said as he shifted himself into a more comfortable position, as well as one that faced Medic a bit more directly, “ya’re gonna be at the top of his worry list no matter how well, or unwell ya’re feelin’. Think about it, ya’re the love of his life, and that means he’s gonna worry aboutcha! Just like ya worry about him! So maybe, just maybe mind you, ya should talk to the man, ya know, cause that’s what couples do?”

“And this is coming from the self proclaimed bachelor?” Medic teased wryly, which merely got Demo to roll his eye while giving a defeated scoff, promptly turning away from Medic and back to his coffee, which he took a very large, very dramatic sip of. After taking a moment to laugh at his friend, Medic thought over what Demo said, knowing he wasn’t wrong, but also knowing that Spy was an incredibly complex individual, who was very near the end of his wits. Still, if he was just going to worry about him no matter what, then maybe he did need to be a bit more honest, just in case something did go wrong.

He really doubted he would be seriously hurt again, but just in case…

Just in case.

“Alright, I will be more honest with him.” Medic promised sincerely, watching as Demo turned his head just enough to get him into his line of view in order to give him a proper side eye, which basically meant he turned his head towards him entirely. “I’m serious, I will. It will do neither of us any good if we keep hiding things from each other, and… and you’re right, he is my lover, and I need to be more open with him.”

Hearing this, Demo turned his head the rest of the way needed in order to properly look at Medic, a knowing, yet relieved grin now spread across his face as he turned himself back to face Medic properly. “Good choice,” he declared as he got himself comfortable again, “I do believe ya’ll find honesty to be more beneficial in the long run, but hey, whaddo I know? I’m just a bachelor.”
“You’re not just a bachelor, Demo, you’re my friend, and I do appreciate your honesty.” Medic thanked as he went back to focusing on Sniper's music, to which Demo gave a simple hum of approval as he went back to his coffee.

However, he had barely taken a proper sip when he made a noise that grabbed Medic’s attention again, before quickly swallowing and asking, “Speakin’ of yar lover, where is the man? He ain’t still sleepin’ is he?”
“Nein, he and Albert went to discuss the finer details of our mission to Australia, though he should be back soon.” Medic explained, to which Demo nodded understandingly, before pausing in this action, a look of worry now crossing his face.

“They uh, they went alone I take it?”
“Jawohl.”
“Ah… You uh, ya think they’ll be alright?”

Medic just sighed wearily in response, having shared Demos concerns for some time now, but just not wanting to think about them. Truth be told, he had been a bit worried when Spy had told him that he would be meeting Albert alone, for there just seemed to be an undeniable air of… animosity between them, even though their interactions were brief. That, and the way Spy had spoken about Albert the night previous gave no impression of respect, nor liking to the man whatsoever, and quite honestly, every glance Albert gave Spy said the same.

Now, Medic fully understood that some men just weren't going to like each other, he respected that, but when Spy didn’t like other men…

“They’re both grown men, I’m certain everything will be just fine.” Medic assured with as much confidence as he could find, speaking more to himself than to Demo. “True, true…” Demo agreed hesitantly, “but, ya know Spy… and I saw the way he was eyein’ Albert last night, and I also saw the way Albert was eyein’ him… They don’t like each other, lad.”

“How can they possibly not like each other after barely interacting? I will admit, they do seem to… um… Gott, what’s the word…”
“Clash?”
“Ja, danke, clash, they do seem to clash… and I did see their shared glances of… disdain… but I’m certain they both understand that sometimes you just have to work with people you don’t like, I mean honestly, both their professions have to have seen them working with many different types of people, surely they can handle each other for a little while… right?”
“... Riiiiight.”

Again, Medic sighed wearily, before stating, “I don’t like your lack of confidence.”
“I’m just being honest lad, I’m just being honest.” Demo declared factually, once again taking a large sip of coffee as he looked over the city around them contentedly.

“Oh, well speak’a the devils!” Demo then exclaimed, his gaze now fixed to the right of them, instantly grabbing Medic’s attention as he looked that way as well. Much to his personal relief, he saw Albert and Spy walking up the sidewalk towards them, and though it was difficult to see them from the distance they were at, both men appeared to be just fine.

“Gott sei Dank.” Medic muttered quietly as he stood up, his heart instantly becoming more at ease, even though it hadn’t really felt too heavy to begin with. Of course Spy and Albert were fine, they were both grown men, and while he was certain some choice words were spoken to one another, that was a thousand times better than exchanging blows, besides, who was to say any choice words were spoken at all? Surely both men simply did their business professionally, after all, they were both professionals, and had at the very least found the common ground of…

Why did Albert have a black eye?

Why was Spy holding his nose?

Why did both men have blood all over them?

“Oh… Meine… GOTT!!!” Medic shrieked in horror, just staring at the two men in disbelief as he became aware of their battered states, simply refusing to believe that they couldn’t handle a simple conversation together. “Oh… I owe Soldier so much money…” Demo lamented despairingly as he watched the two men approach, though Medic had hardly heard this comment, for he had started running towards his lover mere seconds after his exclamation.

Worry was at the forefront of his mind for certain, as well as fear and concern for his lover's health and wellbeing, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not get the overwhelming feeling of sheer disappointment to stop overpowering every other emotion he felt. He just… Really? Really??? This was what he had to deal with right now? Spy couldn’t handle talking to this man for an hour? That had really been too much to ask?

Albert wasn’t even a bad person, he was just confident, as well as a bit ego centric, but he was by no means bad, or even unbearable! Dare he think it, Medic really did like Albert as a person, he just happened to have a larger than life personality, but he was never rude or belittling, he just was a lot, but so was Scout. Granted, Spy didn’t really like Scout, but he had never gotten into a fight with him over their clash in personalities… That he was aware of…

He was just so disappointed, he just… Really??????

“Spy! What happened! Are you alright! Meine Gott, you’re bleeding everywhere! What on earth happened to you two! Is your nose broken? MEINE GOTT, IS THAT A BULLET WOUND! Why were you shot!!!”

“Hey, it’s ok pal, all’s good, really.” Albert quickly assured, and when Medic turned to him, he gasped with fright, quickly putting a hand over his mouth. The man had blood all over him, his mouth, his face… his neck…

Someone had tried to slit his throat.

That would’ve been a painful death, had the attack succeeded, one much, much slower than anyone expected it to be. It wasn’t an instant death, how could it be? It was suffocation, drowning, and blood loss all at once, air escaping from the open wound, failing to reach the lungs, blood pouring down the throat and into the lungs, as well as out. That worst part was that while it certainly hurt, it was never so painful that one's senses were lost, after all, it was just a cut. However, one was aware that they couldn’t breath, that they were drowning, and that everything was getting cold, so incredibly cold, and wet, and sticky, while the metallic smell of blood consumed everything.

That had been the Boss’s favorite way of killing him, because he lived just long enough to feel the fear and pain, while still being aware of everything around him. Every time he thought that Medic was starting to simply become lost in the endless torture, he’d slit his throat, instantly making him aware again as he struggled to focus on staying alive, such was his instinct. Depending on the size of the gash, it wasn’t always quick, just big enough to get the blood out, just small enough to let some air in, always the right size to kill in the end.

Alberts was merely a flesh wound, small, no longer than the tip of his finger, but deep enough to where it had bled down his neck and onto his shirt. How the man didn’t appear more shaken from this attempt on his life was beyond Medic, nor was he sure as to why he was talking as though nothing had happened.

“Hey, you ok pal? Ya look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Albert asked a bit worriedly, which caused Medic to realize that he wasn’t breathing, an action that he quickly started again, forcing his darker thoughts back, before the cold steel of a knife could once again imprint itself upon his neck. “Just… your neck…” Medic explained a bit shakily. “Oh, this? Eh, don’t worry ‘bout it, had worse in my life, this’s just a scratch, this on the other hand, this hurts like a bitch!” Albert pointed to the slice on his face as he said this, and Medic had to admit, it was definitely worse than the one on his neck.

Medic nodded slowly, still trying to really snap himself out of his mind, half wanting to hold his own neck, which was something he’d never wanted to do before. Odd.

He then turned back to Spy, who had a surprisingly blank, albeit completely annoyed expression, though half his face was covered by his hand, as he was still holding his nose tenderly. “Spy, what happened?” Medic asked worriedly, though Spy just looked at him a moment, before sighing wearily while looking away, his expression never changing.

“It was the stupidest thing ever, that’s what happened!” Albert quickly explained, “We was just standin’ around, havin’ a conversation about what was goin’ down, when all of a sudden, the fuckin’ Korean mafia shows up! We both try bein’ reasonable, but one’a ‘ems fairly convinced that Spy fucked his ma, so I argue that he couldn’a done that cause he’s a homo. They didn’t buy it for some reason, and then they started goin’ off on me cause I fought in ‘Nam, though I don’t see how it’s their business, they’s Korean after all, and so we got into a scuffle. I’ll admit, it got sketchy for a moment, but we pulled through just fine, and thankfully we was by the water, so we just dumped the bodies in the ocean. Man I tell you what, this guy here knows how to pack a punch, kicked their asses real good!”

With that, Albert playfully punched Spy in the shoulder with his now bloodied crooked smile, though Spy did nothing in response, even though he’d punched just above his wound. “Anyway, we’s all good, just a bit banged up.” Albert continued nonchalantly, before spitting out some blood away from the group, then quickly smiling again with a bit less blood.

Did Medic believe him? Of course not, one look at Spy told him that they’d gotten into a fight with each other, and by the looks of things, Albert had won. That surprised him, he’d seen Spy fight many times, with many different opponents, heck, even he’d fought with him a few times before he’d joined the Red team, and he was formidable. How then could he have lost a fight with Albert? Not that he thought that Albert was less than Spy, not at all, he just knew that statistically speaking, Spy had to be the better fighter… unless Albert was just better than he thought he was.

While he didn’t know for certain one way or another, all he knew was that they’d gotten into a fight, for some extremely disappointing reason, and Albert had won. That of course left him with an entirely new dilemma to deal with, that being somehow making Spy confess as to why they’d gotten into a fight. Well… he didn’t have to, he could just let it slide, but he didn’t want to, he didn’t want to have any more secrets in their relationship than there already were. Based on the wounds both men sported, they hadn’t fought over something petty, otherwise there would only be bruises and a few scrapes. That wasn’t the case though, and anyone with a brain knew it.

“Albert freakin’ Willis, what the heck happened to you!?!?” Instantly all three men looked back to find Quincy running out of his home with little more than a robe on, all while Demo also stepped outside behind him, waving sheepishly at Spy. In turn, Spy only narrowed his eyes coldly, causing Demo to quickly reenter the house. “Ah Jesus Christ, I’m fine!” Albert declared as he began to walk over to Quincy, “See? Just got roughed up by the Korean Mafia, it’s no big deal.”
“The Korean what?!?”

While the two brothers began their conversation, for lack of a better word, Spy and Medic stood quietly together, watching the scene unfold for a moment. Then Medic sighed softly, and turned to Spy to ask him what had actually happened, but before he could even utter a single word, Spy promptly interrupted him by saying very bluntly, “I don’t want to talk about it.” He hadn’t even looked at him when he said it, and somehow, that hurt more than anything. Spy then began to walk away, but Medic wouldn’t let him, not this time. They needed to do this together, they needed to walk through these things together, no matter how ugly, no matter how hard. They could do this, he could do this.

“Spy-”
“I don’t-” Spy began angrily, but stopped himself, and took in a more calming breath, something about him appearing almost broken… no, hurting. “I don’t want to talk about it.” he reiterated quietly, his anger and annoyance gone from his voice, instead replaced with… nothing. His voice was unreadable.

Maybe… maybe he should just let it go, for now anyway. He could always try again later, when things weren’t so fresh, when wounds weren’t so open. The last thing he wanted to do was push Spy too far, or worse, accidentally isolate himself from him, so maybe… so maybe for now he needed to support him in other ways, until there was a more appropriate time to talk.

Yes, he could do that… he could do that…

Medic then quickly walked forward and gently placed a hand on Spy’s shoulder, which instantly got him to turn and face Medic, anger for what he perceived to be another intervention gleaming in his eyes. However, it quickly faded upon actually looking at his lover, his gaze instantly softening into something far more apologetic, no, regretful. The man was hurting, physically, and emotionally, and right now, he just needed help. The other hard conversations could wait.

“Let me get the Medi-gun, meine Engel.” Medic offered gently while giving him a small, reassuring smile, hoping, praying that he wouldn’t shove him away again. He then watched as tears suddenly sprung to his lover's eyes, his gaze struggling to meet his own, though it did persist. Though a bit startled at the unexpected sight, Medic held his own composure, and leaned forward and placed a long, gentle kiss upon Spy’s hand, which still held his wounded nose, a silent promise that he wasn’t going anywhere. Though it was impossible to truly see, Medic knew that Spy was smiling, a small smile, but it was there nonetheless. Yes, the hard conversations could wait for another day, they would not be ignored, simply delayed.

Yes… that was what would happen…

Surely.

“Oi! The fuck’re you hippies doin’ ‘round my van! Git lost!” Sniper suddenly shouted, quickly grabbing Spy and Medic’s attention. It appeared as though Sniper had finally noticed the crowd he’d gathered with his music, and he was not pleased with it. “Oh c’mon, they’re just enjoying your music!” Quincy protested as his brother rolled his eyes, “You should be proud! Not many can attract a crowd like that.”
“Oh yeah, fifteen hippies all surroundin’ me van while smellin’ like drugs, booze, and B.O, just what I need in the mornin’! Oi, Spy! Shoot at ‘em, git ‘em outta here!... The hell happened to you?!? You look like shit!”

“Good to see you too, Sniper.” Spy greeted sarcastically, before groaning and holding his nose a bit tighter. “That bad?” Medic asked as he continued to walk Spy over to Sniper's van. “You have no idea.” Spy muttered to himself, watching as the combined forces of Albert and Sniper shooed away the crowd of hippies, who scattered like a flock of birds, while Quincy just stared at them in disbelief.

The rest of the morning went by rather quickly, with everyone getting ready, Albert and Spy getting healed, and Scout spending the morning with Quincy, along with Pyro of course, all three of whom made fun of Spy and Albert behind their backs. Spy had been gone for roughly an hour and a half, and while this would’ve been a great time for everyone to get themselves ready, the team instead had taken this time to sleep in, and rightfully so. Therefore, by the time they left Quincy’s, after many goodbyes and heartfelt thanks, it was around eleven in the morning, a bit later than they would’ve liked, but they could survive that. They didn’t know when, or if they would ever see Quincy again, but they were glad to have known him, and though his part in their adventure was small, they were grateful that he was in it at all.

In the meantime, it was time to get back to their adventure.

Albert had planned out exactly how they were going to get onto the plane the night before, and had called in quite a few personal favors to make sure no one questioned or looked into what was going on. Medic personally believed that some blackmail was involved in that process based on the way Albert explained what he had done, something in his eyes showing mischief, especially when he and Scout exchanged far too brotherly glances and nods, but he said nothing of it.

The plan was simple: Albert would drive the van, this was decided after much, much, much, much, much, much arguing from Sniper, onto the military airfield while the team hid in the back, and onto the plane, before briefly leaving the plane to finalize his route/mission with the officers involved in helping the plane take off. Once this was done, they would then fly to Hawaii, where they would spend the night and refuel the plane, before taking off the next day to Australia, where Albert would drop them off before continuing to Vietnam to go through with a supply drop, that way he wouldn’t just be wasting the military's money and resources, not that anyone on the team cared about that, save Soldier.

Soon after this was clarified, the plan was enacted, and… somehow, despite their recent string of luck, despite a plan having never gone as planned before, and despite the expectation that any time the words, ‘the plan was simple’, were said, the plan would not in fact turn out to be simple… It worked.

The plan worked.

They got on the plane without any problems, they evaded any and all detection, and were up and in the air in little over an hour.

How this happened was beyond any of them, though personally, Albert credited their success to his own planning.

Maybe this was a sign that luck was finally with them, maybe this was a sign that things were finally getting better, maybe this was a sign that there was smooth sailing ahead, and that life would be easy from here on out!

Or maybe the author simply didn’t want to write about them getting onto the plane because the author deemed it boring and uninteresting, as well as a waste of thought, so the author wrote this instead.

I guess we’ll never know.

Anyway, some time later…

“Alright gentlemen, and whatever Pyro is,” Albert began to announce over the intercom of the plane, “we have now reached a stable altitude, and will continue this course for the next several hours, feel free to move about the plane as you please, don’t break anything, don’t steal anything, don’t do nothin’ stupid, and overall just enjoy yourselves until we land. No snacks or drinks will be provided, so I hope you sucka’s brought your own shit to eat. In the meantime, thank you very much for choosin’ Albert Airlines, and I hope you enjoy the flight… and yes, expect turbulence at some point in time. I will try to give adequate warning, but I promise nothing, as I am not gifted with foresight.”

“Finally! I was tired of hiding in the van!” Soldier exclaimed as he slammed the doors to Sniper's van open and leapt out, quickly stretching himself out, several popping noises coming from him as he did so. “Right?” Scout agreed as he hoped out, “The air was gettin’ real stale in there, I think Spy forgot to shower last night or somethin’.”
“Very funny.” Spy muttered as he got out and looked around the plane, sighing wearily as he began to make his way as far away from the van as possible.

Seeing this, Medic quickly followed after him, hoping to actually talk about what had happened with him and Albert now that they had the space to do so. He made sure to trail a bit further behind than Spy so that he hopefully wouldn’t notice, for he got the very strong sense that Spy would try and brush him off once he saw what he was doing. Hopefully he wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him once they were well and truly alone, though even if he was, Medic vowed that he would not back away so quickly.

It was important to be transparent with one another, especially now that things were starting to get real. Granted, Medic hadn’t exactly been following his own philosophy lately, but he did plan on changing that, starting today, starting now.

“Herr Spy? I was… I was wondering if we could talk now… about what happened.” He was surprised at how timid his own voice sounded, how unsure, as if he already knew what Spy was going to say, as if he had already lost the battle. Strange, that’s not how he’d felt moments before, why the sudden change? It felt wrong, and such a feeling hung heavy within his chest, but he didn’t know how to fix it.

This feeling only grew as Spy gave a weary sigh, and already Medic knew what that foreshadowed. “Mon amour,” Spy said in a surprisingly patient tone, “I understand why you wish to talk, but right now I just want to be alone. I have had a… tiresome morning, and just want to be alone with my thoughts.”
“I… I understand this,” Medic said as gently as possible, “but Spy, I-”

“Doctor,” Spy said in a much, much firmer tone, now stopping to turn and face him, “I just want to be alone, ok? I understand where you’re coming from, I understand you are concerned, and I know that you are simply… you’re being you, and I love you for that, but please… I am not going to talk about this, and I need you to understand that. I need you to respect that.”

He was hiding something, and Medic knew it. This wasn’t about space, this wasn’t about being alone with his thoughts, this was about avoiding the issue.

Avoiding him.

What had he done wrong? Why was Spy wanting to avoid him? He’d been good, right? He’d been a good teammate, a good partner, a good man, hadn’t he? Why did he want to avoid him? What was he doing wrong?

No, no he wasn’t doing anything wrong, Spy was just… he was complicated, he was secretive, he was a spy after all, why on earth had he been expecting an open, communicative relationship with him… Why had he expected him to give himself wholly, like he did.

He had though, Spy had given him everything, he had been open, raw, and honest, why now was he not being that? Why now was he hiding? What changed? What had he done wrong?

“I… Okay.” Medic said quietly, unable to look his lover in the eyes as he turned around and left him, suddenly feeling very, very out of place by his side… no, unwanted, which was strange, because even when Spy had been hiding his feelings from him so long ago, he’d never made him feel that way.

Once he was back at the van, Medic sat down outside of it and just sighed, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them while resting his head on them, just allowing his emotions to flow through him. Twice now he’d tried to help him, and twice he’d been pushed away. That hurt, it hurt in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, not since he was a much younger man. He’d known that walking with Spy through their relationship wasn’t going to be simple, he’d known that he’d have to be patient, and that he wouldn’t simply open up to him about everything, but it still hurt.

It especially hurt since Spy had been open with him, he’d wept, Medic had held him as he’d wept and confessed his greatest fears and doubts, he’d listened to him pour his soul out to him, and make himself vulnerable, so incredibly vulnerable. Why had that changed? Why was he closing himself off again?

What had he done wrong?

There was suddenly a muffled voice that got Medic’s attention, and when he looked up, he saw Pyro standing over him, looking at him quizzically. “Hallo.” Medic greeted with a tired smile, to which Pyro waved back in a friendly manner, before plopping down next to him, tilting his head to the side curiously as he looked at him. Medic just sighed softly before assuring, “I’m alright meine friend, just… a bit tired I suppose, a bit hurt… not physically, just… I don’t know…”

Pyro simply gave an understanding noise in response, before patting him on the back sympathetically. “Danke.” Medic murmured quietly, before he sighed again, this time much heavier, as he placed his head on his knees again.

Perhaps thankfully, he wasn’t able to stay like this for very long before Pyro spoke again, nudging him to get his attention, and when Medic looked, Pyro stood and motioned for him to follow. Though a bit reluctant at first, Medic supposed that in the end it would probably be better for him to socialize, rather than sitting in his own misery and self doubt, so he got up and followed Pyro, who led him further into the plane.

After a bit, Medic discovered Demo, Soldier, and Heavy all sitting around a table playing cards, with a few empty chairs present as well, and in the middle of the table was a fair bit of cash.

“Welcome back, Pyro,” Heavy greeted as he looked up from his cards, being sure to put his hand on the table to keep Soldier from looking over at them, “was worried you had left game. Ah, I see you brought fresh meat! I mean, new player.”
“I never said I was going to play.” Medic stated as he sat down, watching as Demo discarded nearly his entire hand in hopes of better cards, while Soldier only discarded one. “Don’t gamble?”
“It’s… not a habit I like to indulge in.”

“If if makes ya feel any better, all the money’s just bein’ passed between us, and we’ll all be usin’ it for the same things.” Demo declared as he looked at his new hand hopefully, only to drop his hopeful face instantly. “Right, I fold.”
“Oh c’mon! This is the third time in a row!” Soldier protested angrily. “Well I dunnae want to lose any more money t’ya, so I fold!”
“Ugh… stupid Demo, stupid cards… Well Heavy?”

After taking a moment to address his cards again, Heavy looked at Soldier, then back at his cards again, before again looking at Soldier, a bit more skeptically this time, before throwing his hand down and declaring, “Heavy will fold.”
“Damn it!” Soldier shouted as he threw down his hand in frustration, revealing a flush, as he grabbed the pot. “You sissies keep backing down before the stakes can get high! Where’s your sense of adventure! No risk no reward, ladies!”
“If I’d kept me hand the last three games, I’d be broke!” Demo protested in reply, only for Soldier to mutter to himself disgruntledly.

With their latest game finished, Pyro quickly sat down as Heavy began to shuffle, and after giving it a moment's thought, Medic too sat at the table, before pulling out his own money and asking, “What’s the entering price?”
“One dollar.” Heavy replied as he shuffled, and as Medic added his dollar, the cards were dealt.

“So… how’d yar talk go?” Demo asked as he picked up his hand, his eye widening for a moment, before he quickly forced himself into a neutral face, one that didn’t quite look right for him. “Uh… It was a talk.” Medic replied neutrally as he examined his cards, having pulled a pair of sixes and little more. “Good talk, or bad talk?” Demo pressed as he made his discards. “Uh… just a talk.” Medic replied a bit more quietly, hoping to drop the subject before it got any more steam.

Alas, it was too late.

“Spook leave ya high and dry again?” Demo asked while examining his new cards, rubbing his beard thoughtfully as he did so. “I… that’s a harsh way of putting it but… Ja…” Medic muttered quietly, almost letting a surprised look onto his face as he pulled another two sixes, just barely managing to let a normal breath out. “What a loser,” Demo muttered, “if I had a lass like yarself, I wouldn’t be able t’stop talkin’ to her, but what does Spy do when he’s got a lad like yarself? Nothin’. Bah, what an idiot.”

“I… he’s just a bit stressed, that’s all…” Medic said, not quite sure he believed himself when he said it. “I just… oh nevermind.”
“You just what?” Heavy asked as he raised the money pile, causing a slight chain reaction as the pool grew larger and larger. “I… I really shouldn’t say anything, I don’t know what he’s going through, so I really have no place to judge.” Medic murmured as he watched the money grow, trying to focus on the game and his thoughts at the same time. “Does not mean you cannot talk about your feelings about him.” Heavy argued, eyeing the money before studying his cards carefully, finally calling, only for Pyro to raise again, continuing the growth of the pile.

Medic wanted to go into further detail, he wanted to express his doubts, his worries, his fears, but he didn’t want them to worry, he didn’t want to be a burden to them, not more than he already felt anyway. At the same time though, he could hear Engineer in the back of his mind, telling him that if it were anyone else on the team feeling what he was feeling, that no one would hesitate to support the man, and the same was true for him. Besides, his main worry was stressing Spy, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if his friends knew about some of his worries.

With that in mind, Medic finally allowed himself to fully embrace his emotions… and found that it was more than self doubt that he was feeling.

“I… I just don’t understand him!” Medic exclaimed with frustration, realizing at that moment that while he was upset with himself, he was equally upset with Spy. “I mean, I understand that he is upset about something, I understand that he is stressing out of his mind with this whole mess, but I don’t understand why he refuses to talk to me! He used to talk to me, he was quite open with me for some time, but once this whole mess started, it is like I no longer exist! Like I can no longer be trusted!

“I don’t think I’ve done anything to break his trust, I have done my absolute best to be a good partner to him, and a good teammate, but anytime I try to have a more personal conversation, he brushes me off while saying, ‘I don’t want to talk about it’, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what ‘it’ is! I… I-I fear I’ve done something wrong, that something I’ve said or done at some point has pushed him away from me, but I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, and it’s driving me insane! Maybe I’ve done nothing wrong, maybe he’s just being, uh, him, but if that’s the case what does that say about his previous vulnerabilities?

“Was he just lying to my face, or was he really being honest? I’d like to think he was being honest, nothing ever indicated otherwise, but with this sudden turn of… of… Oh Gott… you know… that word, that word that means he’s not talking… Gott was war es… uncommunicativeness! With his sudden turn of uncommunicativeness, I don’t know what to do!”

“Tiny doctor, breathe, breathe,” Heavy ordered calmly, which Medic did, running a hand over his face wearily as he composed himself, “is ok, you have done no wrong, is ok.”
“But it doesn’t feel ok,” Medic argued back, “I don’t feel ok about this, Spy clearly isn’t ok with me, and I… Gott, I can’t find the words!”
“Then breathe.” Heavy ordered again, a bit firmer this time, but still gentle, so he did. Medic breathed in long, deep breaths, and exhaled slowly, just as he had shown many others how to do. Honestly, he really did need to start listening to his own advice.

It was when he did this that he noticed Demo giving a slight cough to Soldier with a smug look, who begrudgingly passed him a bit of money, separate from the current game they were playing. “What was that?” he asked suspiciously, instantly getting a sheepish look from Demo, while Soldier quickly hid the money and looked away, now whistling a tune. “Oh… Twas nothin’.” Demo replied with a guilty tone, quickly adding to the money pile in hopes of distracting Medic.

“That did not look like ‘nothing’.” Medic pressed, his frustration with Spy now starting to redirect. “Oh… Well ya see lad… uh…” Demo muttered while looking away from Medic, who was giving him the one of the hardest stares he had given in a long, long time. “Uhhhhh…”
“Okokok! Me and Demo might've been placing a few harmless bets on the milestones of you and Spy’s relationship!” Soldier finally admitted guiltily, while Demo tried frantically to motion to him to shut up. “We were bored, and we were watching Spy be a dick, so I said, ‘I bet they’re going to get into a fight soon!’, but Demo thought that you would come to us to vent about him first, so we made a bet! We also bet on several other things, but I won’t tell you what they are because it could compromise the outcome!”

Truth be told, Medic was not one to get angered easily. In fact, he considered himself an incredibly patient man, and often prided himself on being able to keep a level head. However, he was just a man, and like all men, he had his limits, which he was just about to reach the end of.

“You are making bets on my relationship with Spy, Herr Demo?” Medic asked coldly, instantly causing Demo to sink back further into his seat, practically burying his face in his cards. “I wouldn’t say it quite like that…” Demo muttered sheepishly, “consider it more… friendly wagers… that concern our good friends' lives and…er, intimacies, for lack’a better word.”

Medic continued to stare at Demo coldly for quite a while, the money pile having finally stopped its growth as everyone watched the showdown expectantly. He wanted to rip Demo a new one, he wanted to get up and yell at him, he wanted to shout until his throat hurt, but he didn’t. It would get him nowhere, and he’d probably say something he’d end up regretting, after all, it wasn’t Demo he was really upset with, not really, that honor belonged to Spy.

Instead, he just let out a disappointed sigh, before turning back to his cards and looking around to see if everyone had called. Upon confirming that all bets were done, he turned back to Demo, and without a word dropped his hand face up, revealing his four sixes, watching as Demo’s eye widened again, before showing his own hand to be a pair of twos and tens. In the end, Medic won that round.

“Ya know… I tend to forget that karma is a very real thing… serves me right…” Demo muttered sheepishly as he handed his cards over to Heavy, who began to shuffle them with a bemused look. “That it is,” Medic agreed coldly, still staring at Demo coldly, “now bitte, end these bets before karma decides to do anything else.”
“Right, consider it done, right Soldier?”
“Affirmative!” Soldier quickly declared, and Heavy began a new round of cards while Medic claimed his prize.

“Hehe… karma is real.” Heavy agreed with a chuckle as he shuffled. “Now, back to business. Tiny doctor, you say you feel you are at fault for Spy’s behavior?” Medic just sighed wearily once again, now feeling a bit tired from his quick surge of anger, but he did answer Heavy honestly. “How can I not? We have been honest with each other, we have been open with each other, and now… Ever since his first meeting with Miss Pauling, he’s been acting strange, aloof… he’s hiding something, I know it…”

Pyro then quickly gave some assurance, though what he said was beyond anyone, though it sounded genuine, perhaps even wise. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that.” Medic admitted apologetically, which got a disappointed grunt from Pyro as he crossed his arms. “I think he was saying that Spy is Spy, and is just being himself,” Heavy offered as he dealt out the cards again, “is not you, is him.”

“That just doesn’t make sense though!” Medic protested as he picked up his hand, finding he didn’t have the same luck as his previous round, “Heavy, I held him as he wept, he confessed to me things I know he’s never told another soul, he was open, he was vulnerable! I held him… I… I don’t know what changed…”
“You sure he hasn’t told what he told you to Sniper?” Solider asked as he looked over his cards.

Instantly Medic looked up at him, never having considered that what Spy had said to him was entirely confidential. Did it hurt to think that Spy didn’t fully trust him? Not really, in fact, he was honored at the thought that he was held in the same circle of trust as Sniper, which he knew was no easy feat. However, it did raise just a few other thoughts in his head, thoughts that were far less honoring.

“I never thought of it like that…” Medic murmured as he made his discards, trying to push back what he deemed as absolutely ridiculous thoughts. Pyro then made another assuring remark, but again, no one understood what he was saying, causing them to all stare at him in utter confusion. When Pyro realized this, he got up angrily and walked away, muttering something under his breath as he did so. “Is he coming back?” Medic asked, now worried that he’d upset Pyro. “Who knows.” Demo muttered as he drew up his new cards, staring at them for a moment, before flopping them down and declaring, “I fold.”

“Should we… should we wait?” Medic asked as he looked at Heavy, who just nodded as he looked over his new cards, so they waited. A few minutes later, Pyro did return, this time with a pencil and notepad, before sitting down again and writing quickly, still mumbling something under his breath. He then took the piece of paper and handed it to Medic, who took it and read it over to himself quietly.

What it said was this: Do you have any idea how long it took Sniper to get that level of trust? You got the same level of trust that Sniper does in weeks, when it took Sniper years!

“That… Danke, I didn’t think of it like that.” Medic said with a kind smile, his heart already feeling much lighter, while Pyro nodded and looked at his cards, giving a whoop of excitement, before instantly covering his exhaust piece. There was an awkward moment of silence as everyone stared at him, before they all instantly folded, causing Pyro to curse to the heavens.

“I forget that Spy is probably one of the most distrusting men on this team sometimes,” Medic admitted as he watched Heavy shuffle, “I know I probably sound a bit stupid for saying that, but he just comes of as so… so confident, so certain, it’s hard to forget he’s insecure.”
“That’s why he wears that stupid mask all the time!” Soldier commented as Heavy dealt out the cards, “He’s so insecure he can’t even show his face! I bet he has a giant mole that he’s trying to hide!” That last comment got a few snickers from Pyro and Demo, and an amused eyeroll from Medic.

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” Medic stated as he picked up his cards, happy to see an ace and king, but nothing else noteworthy, “probably something happened in his ever mysterious past that caused him to take it up. I’m sure we’ll never know.”
“I like the mole theory.” Demo admitted with a sly grin, which got an unamused, but secretly amused, eyeroll from Medic.

“You know what else we’ll never know?” Soldier stated with a more serious tone, “What really happened between Spy and Albert this morning!” This got an absolutely exhausted groan from Medic as leaned back in his chair, his once settled feelings on that matter now becoming quite unsettled. “I know a lie when I see one, and while Albert is a respectable military man, it pains me to say that he lied to our faces! I just know it! Something about his eyes had that same look that Scout has when he’s done something he’s not supposed to do!”

“Ya’re not wrong lad, ya’re not wrong,” Demo agreed, “notice how Spy got awful quiet after he came back too? Dare I say he looked embarrassed, not to mention how cock sure Albert looked. Aye, those two fought somethin’ fierce, I know it.”

“Ja… but why?” Medic asked while looking over his new cards, deciding that he’d better try for a bluff. “I understand that not everyone is going to like one another, and I most certainly understand that no two men are always going to get along… but they tried to kill each other, their wounds prove it. Spy had great trauma to his face, indicating a series of prolonged blows, not to mention the bullet wound, and that cut on Albert's neck… it wasn’t a slice, it looked more like it had been caused by applied pressure… and we all know Spy likes to, well… gloat.”

“Huh… that bad?” Heavy asked as he started to raise the pot again. “Leider.” Medic confirmed solemnly, before looking at his cards, and dropping them, deciding to fold rather than lose more money, besides, he’d never been good with a bluff anyway. “Say what ya will, but I think there’s some history between ‘em,” Demo theorized as he raised the pot again, “if ya were payin’ attention last night, yad’ve seen how Albert kept givin’ Spy some nasty looks, and I mean downright nasty. Spy gave a few of his own too I might add.”

“I noticed,” Medic confirmed while he watched the others, “I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it though… I just don’t see them having history, if so, Spy would never have agreed to have Albert fly us, he wouldn’t have risked it. I just wish he would talk to me about it, instead of burying away his thoughts for whenever he’s alone with Sniper! I swear to Gott, those two might as well be in a relationship with each other.”

“They certainly talk enough for it,” Demo agreed with an amused chuckle, “I mean really, I stand by my point from earlier, if I had a lass like you, I’d never shut up… though to be fair to Spy, he has known Snipe a bit longer than yarself, and like ya said, he’s terribly insecure, he’s probably still warmin’ up to the idea of talkin’ to ya.”
“I hope you’re right, I really don’t want to simply be… well, I don’t want our love to be shallow…”

“Here, lemme give you some good advice!” Soldier declared, pausing the game for a moment to give Medic his full attention. “You don’t like that Spy isn’t being honest with you, right? You think he’s holding out on you, and isn’t treating you the way you outta be treated, right? Well son, you’ve been thinking about your relationship all wrong! You see, you’ve got an advantage over him, one that’s bound to get you exactly what you need from him!”

“Advantage being?” Medic asked after exchanging a confused look with Demo, now a bit concerned, a sentiment shared by the rest of the table. “You’re German!” Soldier declared, as if the solution were obvious, “And historically speaking, the Germans have been known to make the French submit to them! All you gotta do is dig deep down and unlock your true German potential, and like the cowardly Frenchman he is, Spy will raise the white flag of surrender and do whatever it is you say!”

The silence following Soldier's advice was… awkward, to put it lightly, and truly, Medic had never been so embarrassed to be German in his life. He wanted to say something, really he did, he just didn’t know what to say. That, and he was far too embarrassed to find any meaningful words, so he just sat still, a mortified look on his face, his brain utterly failing him.

“That… That’s wonderful advice lad,” Demo said rather awkwardly after a minute of everyone just staring at Soldier, “truly… That-that’s good lad, that’s good, uh… I’m… certain it’ll come in handy, right doc?”
“... Ja… I uh… I’ll be sure to… I’ll… ja…”

“It’s ok Medic!” Soldier assured, genuinely trying to be helpful, “I know you’re worried about going full German and reliving the third reich, but as long as you remember your newfound American identity, you should be just fine! If not, I’ll be there to help you get back into the American spirit!”

The only thing Medic was able to do was let out a small noise, an involuntary one at that, as Demo pursed his lips and nodded slowly, Pyro tried not to laugh, and Heavy just stared, his breathing indicating that he too was trying not to laugh. “What?” Soldier asked, terribly oblivious, and all Demo could do was pat him on the shoulder, before picking up his cards again to continue the game.

“Anywho,” Demo stated to try and get back on track, “I think we can all agree that Spy and Albert fought, that they probably have personal history with each other, despite what the doc thinks, and that Spy’s just being himself when it comes to not talking with Medic, right lads?”
“Da.” Heavy agreed, now trying to remember where they were in the game, before just adding more money for the heck of it. “The question is,” Demo continued as he matched Heavy, only for Soldier to raise again, “what kinda personal history? What makes a man so angry that he’d arrange to kill the other personally? What did Spy, or Albert, do that pissed off the other so much, that death became an option? Or was it always the intent?”

As the group thought for a moment, Pyro then made a quick noise of excitement, as if he’d figured it out, and frantically grabbed at his pencil and paper. He then quickly wrote something down, and tossed the note into the middle of the table for all to read, making another triumphant noise as he did so.

The note said this: Maybe Spy was a part of the French Mafia??????????????

“What is that supposed to mean?” Medic asked, finally over the shock of Soldier's advice, and he watched as Heavy raised an inquisitive eyebrow, now thinking something through carefully. “Oooohhhh… Ehehehehehe!” Soldier muttered to himself giddily, while Medic and Demo exchanged confused glances. “You see ladies,” Soldier explained with a sly grin, “when Frenchie and a Bostonian lady love each other very very much-”

“Oh that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” Medic shouted in disbelief, watching as Pyro began to snicker to himself, “Spy was never a part of the French mafia, and most certainly isn’t Scout’s vater! That was just a stupid story from Albert to get a reaction out of Scout.”
“And it did! It also got Spy to choke!” Soldier argued, to which Medic merely rolled his eyes, unable to believe this was even a conversation they were having.

“And what other evidence do you have to prove this theory?” Medic asked, and when Soldier opened his mouth to answer, he paused, and thought it over for a moment. “And don’t say the bad looks they were giving each other, because that started long before the whole ‘French mafia’ story.”
“Uh… Well uh… hmmm…”
“That’s what I thought, besides, Albert has no way of knowing who Scouts vater his, nor his vater, nor any of his brothers vaters, he was just telling some stupid stories.”

“Excpet for Scout’s dad! That he was proof of!” Soldier argued as he raised the pot one last time, watching as everyone else began to call. “Yes, that he’s French, not that he’s Spy.” Medic clarified, which got a disappointed noise from Soldier. “Well either way,” Soldier continued, “something got the two of them to hate each other, and I doubt it happened over night! Speaking of overnight, didn’t they talk with each other last night?”
“Ja, but that was just to plan things out for this morning's meeting.”
“Or maybe… Or maybe it was so that Albert could get a better read on his character, so that he could learn how to dominate him! Ahem, speaking of domination!”

With that, Soldier dropped his hand to reveal a straight flush, which instantly got the entire table to audibly groan, minus Medic, who’d dropped out long ago, while Demo threw his cards in the air and left the table, presumably to get some liquor. “Oorah!” Soldier cheered as he grabbed the money, while Pyro began to pick up Demos cards, and Heavy cursed to himself in Russian.

Medic just rolled his eyes at his friends, before handing his cards back to Heavy, who still had a thoughtful look in his eye despite his displeasure, shuffling the cards rhythmically as he did so. “Everything ok, Heavy?” Medic asked, to which Heavy nodded quietly, before turning to him and giving him an assuring smile. “Just thinking, that is all… Was thinking that maybe Spy said something to Albert that he should not have, maybe insulting Scout, and that is what caused fight.”
“I can see that happening…” Medic agreed quietly, knowing full well that Spy and Albert’s personalities clashed, and that Spy had a very real problem with saying things he shouldn’t say, especially to, or about, Scout.

Before he could give more thought to this though, Demo returned with some liquor, to no one's surprise, before he sat down and said, “Sorry ‘bout that, just needed to clear me head. Oh, thanks Pyro, ya didn’t need to pick up after me mess.” Pyro just gave a quick bit of assurance and a pat on the back, before quickly sitting down again and handing the rest of the cards to Heavy.

It was nice to be able to talk about Spy, nicer than he thought it would be. He didn’t mean to insult Spy behind his back, nor make him look bad in any way, he simply wanted to express his own concerns and worries, and thankfully, everyone seemed to understand that. They were a team after all, as well as human, and there were going to be quarrels and problems that arose between them, such was life. What was important was how they handled it, and again, thankfully, everyone knew that.

As the next batch of cards began to be dealt, the plane suddenly began to shake rather violently as the plane hit a patch of turbulence, causing everyone to try and stabilize themselves in whatever way they could. “WE’RE GONNA CRASH!!!” Soldier cried out in terror, but as soon as it had started, it was over, with merely a bit of shaking every now and again. “Oh… phew…”
“I didn’t think you were scared of heights.” Medic commented as he sat upright, feeling his own heart slowly starting to steady itself as well. “I’m not!” Soldier protested, “However, we are currently over the ocean, and the ocean scares the crap out of me!”

“Alright gentleman and Pyro,” Albert announced over the intercoms, “that is what we call turbulence, and it looks like we’re gonna experience some on and off for a little while, so I suggest you guys stay seated as often as possible, and I’ll give the all clear once I’m certain we’re past it.”
“Great.” Heavy muttered as he continued to deal, and when he looked around him, Medic suddenly realized he had no idea where Scout and Sniper were. “So… where did Scout and Sniper go?” Medic asked as he looked over his cards, not being impressed whatsoever with his current hand. “Scout went to play co-pilot with his brother,” Demo replied as he once again struggled to keep a neutral face, “and Snipe… ya know, I don’t think I ever saw the lad leave his van. He’s probably just catching up on his alone time.”

Medic nodded in agreement, discarding four of his cards in hopes of a better hand, before thinking about who Sniper was as a person, and more specifically, thinking back to the time they were in the tunnel evacuating the Red base. “Demo, would you say that Sniper is klaustrophobisch?” Demo paused, taking his attention away from his cards as he thought over what Medic said, then turned to him in confusion and asked, “Is he what?”
“You know, klaustrophobisch, having a fear of small or tight places.”

“... Ya mean claustrophobic?”
“Ja, that’s what I said, klaustrophobisch.”
“Lad, I dunnae what ya said, but it wasn’t claustrophobic.”
“Oh… I suppose the words are similar, aren’t they?.”
“I won’t deny ya that lad, I won’t deny ya that.”

“Anyway, to answer yar original question, I’m not entirely certain if he is or ain’t,” Demo replied as he looked at his new cards hopefully, “I mean, sometimes he gets a bit stressed when in a tight spot, but there’s always fightin’ happenin’ around us, and besides, if he were claustrophobic, why on earth would he spend so much time in his bloody van? That’s a pretty tight spot to be in, and I can say that now, Lord knows I’ve spent enough time in it.”

“That’s probably because that’s his place of comfort, the same way your bedroom might be.” Medic replied, now starting to get the very distinct feeling that Sniper wasn’t having nearly as good as they were. “Oh… Never thought of it like that before.” Demo muttered to himself, now starting to have the same understanding Medic had just had. “Ya know, I think we should check on the lad, before gets himself too worked up.”
“I’ll go ahead and take care of him, I think fewer people might be better in this case.” Medic declared, before raising the pot, hoping to start another chain reaction after getting his new cards in.

“Is probably best,” Heavy agreed as he took the bait, “Sniper is man of few words, and enjoys fewer company. I can talk with him if you want to keep playing.”
“Danke, but that’s ok, I didn’t plan on playing much longer anyway. That’s not to say I would have left the table, but I know when enough is enough, especially when it comes to gambling.”
“Spoken like a man who’s had an addiction to the game.” Demo stated with a knowing glint in his eye. “Nein, not exactly,” Medic replied, watching as everyone called for the final time, “I just tend to get a bit carried away sometimes, and don’t know when to stop. That doesn’t mean I need to play all the time, I have no desire for it, but when I do play, I have a tendency to lose myself. Which is why I like to end on a high note.”

With that, Medic revealed his hand, showing yet another four of a kind, this time being all kings, as the rest of the table once again let out a series of groans and curses, all while Medic pulled in his final winnings. “Vielen dank, vielen dank,” Medic thanked smugly as he counted his winnings, “wirklich, es war wunderbar, mit dir zu spielen, danke für dein Geld, vielen dank.”
“Oh git outta here already ya bloody fandan, I dunnae wanna hear yar bloody boastin’!” Demo exclaimed in an angry tone, though he really wasn’t, and they all knew it.

“Danke, vielen dank.” Medic said one last time before departing with his winnings, unable to erase his smile as he began his walk back to the van. He just felt so light inside, so at ease, as if nothing really mattered at all in that moment, and it was wonderful. Sure, he did have other problems that he’d have to face in the future, but that was just it, they were in the future, and at that moment, he was in the present, and it was a wonderful place to be.

As his friends watched him depart, Demo gave a friendly scoff before turning back to Heavy and saying in a more serious tone, “He’s feelin’ better ya know, he’s feelin’ much better.”
“Da, Heavy can see it in him, much more relaxed… but for how long?” Heavy asked as he began to shuffle again, which caused Demo to let out a worried sigh, now turning his attention to his drink. “I dunnae, hopefully for a while, I can’t bear seein’ him hurt like was, especially when he does such a poor job at hidin’ it.”
“Da, da… we will just watch then, keep eye on him.”
“That we will lad, that we will.”

Chapter Text

There were two fundamental truths that Sniper lived by, two truths that helped ground the world, and help him walk through it. The first truth was that there was something wrong with him, he knew it, his parents knew it, Spy knew it, everyone knew it. Something about him just wasn’t quite right, but for the life of him he didn’t know what. He’d heard the word ‘odd’ be used to describe him by most people, good, but odd. His parents had said it, his friends had said it, Spy had said it, everyone had said it, he was odd, good, but odd.

It was true, he was odd, but he just didn’t know why he was odd. Sniper didn’t try to be odd intentionally, though no one ever really did, nor was he unaware of the things that made him odd, but he just didn’t know how to fix his oddities, or as Spy referred to them as, his idiocracies. Spy claimed that everyone had idiocracies, and he wasn’t wrong, but Sniper's idiocracies weren’t normal, and he knew it.

He also accepted it, which led him to his second truth.

The second truth was that so long as he had his van, everything would be ok. His van was his, that was his space to retreat to when things got too loud, that was his space to retreat to when everything became too much, when his team became too much, when life became too much. It was an impossible feeling to describe, that feeling when things became too much, when people were no longer something he could tolerate, when the world itself seemed to compress around him, but it was definitely something he felt, and he’d discovered that it was much better to accept when he felt it than to push it away.

His van was his, his van was safe, his van was never small, and it was perfect. Everything was where he wanted it to be, everything was how he wanted it to be, there was no one watching, no one judging, no one trying to talk to him when he had nothing to say, it was his, and it was perfect. Truth be told, he probably wouldn’t have made it as far in life as he had without his van, what with all the traveling he did, it was just so nice knowing that at the end of the day, no matter how good or bad it had been, his space was waiting for him, and he could be well and truly alone.

That second truth no longer existed, and thus, his world was in despair.

His van, his van, was no longer his van. It was the team's van. He no longer lived in it, they lived in it.

His place to retreat to? Gone. His place of comfort? Invaded. The one place that could ground him above all others? Ruined.

The worst part of it all? His van now felt small, and it was never, never supposed to feel small. It had never felt that way either, never once in all his years of work, of traveling, of exploring places he thought he’d want to explore, never once had his van felt small.

Now it felt small.

That was wrong, that was so fundamentally wrong.

Especially now, when he needed it the most, it was small, so incredibly small.

And he couldn’t leave it.

If he left it, he’d be in a smaller place, forced to come face to face with the reality that he was on a plane, in the air, unable to leave. Dare he think it, trapped. He was trapped on a plane, while in his van that no longer held safety, but rather his team. The irony in the fact that it was only his van that had kept his team safe so far did not escape him, and he hated himself for hating his team.

It wasn’t their fault, they had been respectful of his space, they hadn’t done anything wrong, they were just in his space, and that in itself was wrong.

They were safe though, and that was what mattered, right? Why was he being so selfish? Why couldn’t he think straight? Why was he letting this get to him so much? It was stupid, he was stupid, his van was helping his team, he was helping his team, he was being a good friend, so why did he not want to be? Why did he want them all gone so badly? Why was this bothering him so much?

Spy never got this worked up whenever someone had gone into his smoking room without his permission, Engineer never got this upset whenever someone had messed with his inventions, Ludwig had never reacted this poorly whenever someone had touched his equipment. Yes, they’d been upset, but not this upset, they’d never been furious, they’d never overreacted… Ok, maybe Spy overreacted, but only within what was considered a normal overreaction for Spy, and he’d gotten over himself the same minute he’d gotten upset.

None of them had ever curled up into a ball in their bed and pulled the covers over themselves, while shaking like a child in a thunderstorm, and panting like they’d just run a marathon.

Sniper just couldn’t help it, everything was just too small.

His space had been completely invaded.

And he was trapped on a goddamn plane.

“You’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok…” he kept saying to himself with every exhale, over, and over, and over, and over again, practically turning the two words into one word. This was stupid, he was stupid, but he couldn’t stop.

His van was no longer his van.

He was stuck in an oversized tin can, which could be shot down at any second by any number of things, and he couldn’t leave it even if he wanted to, even when he needed to.

It threatened to break too, with every jostle, every patch of turbulence, every odd creak or unexplained noise, the plane threatened to fall, threatened to become smaller than it already was, threatened to kill them all.

And he couldn’t leave it, no matter how badly he wanted to, no matter how badly he needed to, no matter how desperate he became to get out, he couldn’t. He just had to ride it out.

What made everything worse was the fact that his team was fractured, and that they weren’t doing anything about it. They couldn’t do anything about it.

Engineer was gone. Ludwig was gone.

They were probably hurt, badly hurt, like Medic had been. Maybe they were dead. Ludwig was at least alive, according to Spy and Pauling, but who knew where Engineer was. Chances were he was fine, chances were he was with Ludwig, but he didn’t know for certain, no one knew for certain. The worst part about it?

No one talked about it, not really, not in a way that meant anything.

They just talked about getting them back, finding them, searching for them, they never talked about missing them. Didn’t they miss them? Of course they did, Heavy was a mess over it, but Ludwig was his lover, so of course he was. Pyro had been a mess, but he seemed over it now, he wasn’t mopy, he wasn’t sad, he was just him. Yes, he knew that his team missed them, but sometimes it felt like Engineer and Ludwig had never been there at all, and that scared him.

It scared him that he was getting used to their absence. It scared him that he was starting to forget what Ludwig's presence felt like, it scared him that he was getting used to the fact that Engineer wasn’t there.

He didn’t want to get used to another teammate's absence, that was wrong.

God, he’d kill to have Engineer with him right now, he’d kill to have his ever calm, ever assuring presense… but he wasn’t there.

He’d tried to stay calm when they’d first boarded the plane, he’d tried to get ahead of this inevitable reaction early that morning by playing his saxophone and going to bed early the night before. He’d tried every trick he knew to try and not end up in the situation he was currently in… but nothing had worked.

The last time he’d done something like this was when he’d moved to America, he’d managed to survive the plane trip over, the many nights in a crappy motel while waiting for his van to make the trip, and the absolute shock of not being the smallest person on the continent anymore, as well as just normal culture shock.

Once his van had arrived in the states, he’d entered it, and not left it for three days, not eating, barely moving, just existing, and panicking, and accepting. He’d hated it, he’d hated himself, but he hadn’t known how to stop. He’d been terrified.

He was terrified.

That fear of the unknown, that fear of loss, that crushing, engulfing, belittling fear was all he knew, all he could understand, all that existed.

He begged with his mind for it to stop, he pleaded with his mind for it to stop, he screamed at his mind for it to stop. His mind would not listen, too busy trying to make sense of things, too busy trying to keep itself safe, too busy trying to unravel the mess it found itself in, and pick up the pieces of this broken reality and make it work.

It wasn’t working.

He was trapped in the sky, he was trapped in his van, he was trapped with his team.

That was wrong.

He was wrong.

Failure. Traitor. Idiot. Lunatic. Worthless. Unprofessional. No. Good. Retard.

Such feelings were true, they had to be, why else was he like this?

Why else couldn’t he think straight when others could?

Why else was he this wrong?

He didn’t want this, he didn’t try to be like this, and he certainly knew this wasn’t normal, but he just didn’t know how to stop this.

“You’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok…”

He wasn’t ok.

Then, everything got worse, everything got so incredibly worse.

Someone knocked on the door to his van.

Someone was outside his van.

Someone was going to see him like this.

CRAP.

“Herr Sniper? Herr Sniper, are you alright?”

MEDIC. CRAP.

Instantly Sniper stopped his self assurance, knowing that he had to say something, that he had to do something other than sit here in this self loathing, self pitying state. Stupid, he was stupid. He held his breath for a moment, trying to jumpstart his mind, trying to pull himself together long enough to hold a short conversation, one just long enough to get Medic to go away.

He could manage that, he could do that. He needed to do that.

After a few short, stifled, painful gasps for air, forcing himself to be normal, he managed to get himself together, and quietly pulled the covers off of himself, that way he wouldn’t sound muffled. He took another moment to run his hands through his hair a few times, not knowing why he needed to do it, just knowing it worked, and that it felt good.

Finally, he took one more deep breath, and in the most normal voice he could manage, he looked towards his door and said, “I’m fine Medic, go away.”

Why? Why had he told Medic to go away? No ok person ever told anyone to go away, telling someone to go away just told the other person that they were not ok.

CRAP.

“Are… Are you sure?” Medic pressed worriedly, “It’s ok if you’re not, you can talk to me about it if that’s the case, or maybe I could get you something to drink?”

“I’m fine doc, really, just… it’s just a tight spot, that’s all, just… just tryin’ to… I’m fine.” Sniper managed to get out, hating that he was still shaking, hating that he just wanted to get back under his covers. “You don’t sound fine, Herr Sniper,” Medic continued, which got a long, barely quieted groan from Sniper as he held his head in his hands, “you don’t have to lie… I understand if there is nothing I can do to make this completely fine, but surely there’s something I can do to alleviate your stress. Are you sure there’s nothing I can get you?”

“Doc, I’m fine, ok?” Sniper seethed out in the friendliest voice he could manage, “There’s nothin’ you can do, there’s nothin’ I wantcha to do, just go away, and lemme be, ok? Just… just go away.”

There was a pause, a long, quiet pause as Medic mulled over what to do next. As this happened, Sniper could feel his heartbeat start to increase as his breathing quickened again, the need to disappear consuming him wholly. There was no need for Medic to deal with this stupidity, there was no need for him to see him like this.

Spy he could handle, Spy had seen him at his worst before, he hated that he had, but he had, so he could accept that, but he didn’t want Medic to see this. This was stupid, this was wrong, this didn’t make sense, he didn’t make sense.

There wasn’t enough air anymore, and the quiet, rhythmic assurance of, “You’re ok.” once again began to sound from him, though this time it took him a moment to realize he was even speaking. If it helped him to breathe, then it helped, and he would accept that.

He just needed Medic to go away.

“Well… If you insist that you’ll be alright on your own, then I will go,” Medic stated, certainly hesitant, but still respectful of what was being asked, “however, if you need anything at all, bitte, just know that I’m here, and that I am more than willing to help you however I can.”

Thank God.

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to do that, will do.” Sniper quickly answered back, then instantly pulled the covers back over himself and curled into himself as tightly as he could, squeezing his eyes shut as he once again got a hold of his breathing. “Alright then…um, I hope you feel better.” Medic said sympathetically, but he never got the chance to leave.

The words had barely left his mouth when suddenly the plane began to shake violently once again, causing Medic to let out a surprised yelp as he clung to the van for support. Everything shook, the plane rattled about as everything within it shifted, creaking every now and then just because it could, and Sniper?

Sniper was dying.

His chest hurt, and it hurt so bad, feeling like it would implode at any moment. His eyes hurt from how hard he was shutting them, yet tears still managed to find a way through. The shaking that had plagued him before now increased tenfold, and his breathing? There just wasn’t enough air, and he knew the proper solution for this would be to get out from under his blankets, but he just couldn’t.

Leaving would be hell, staying under would kill him, but he just couldn’t move.

He was stuck in a van that was no longer his own, on a plane that was being tossed through the air like it was nothing, with a team that surely thought he was insane.

That he was stupid.

That he was retarded.

He was crying now, crying from how badly his chest hurt, crying from how terrified he was, crying because of how badly he wanted his team to be whole again, and crying because of how badly he wanted his van to be his again.

Everything was happening too fast, Medic wasn’t right, Spy wasn’t right, Heavy wasn’t right, Ludwig and Engineer were gone, and they weren’t even close to being done with this mission. The mission hadn’t even begun, and he was supposed to continue living like this? He was supposed to get used to this?

This was hell, this was literal hell.

The worst part?

He knew only he would consider this situation hell, and that if anyone else were in his situation, they would’ve come to terms with it a long time ago.

“You’re ok! You’re ok! You’re ok! You’re ok!” He sobbed out, forgetting about Medic, forgetting about his need to be alone, forgetting about everything else, just needing to breathe, just needing to find air, just needing, needing…

Needing for everything to just stop, so that he could catch up.

But everything didn’t stop, it just kept going on, and on, and on, and on.

Not him though, he was stuck, trying to catch up with it… and he wasn’t even sure what ‘it’ was.

“You’reok!You’reok!You’reok!You’reok!”

“Sniper? Herr Sniper?”

No.

Go away.

Don’t come in.

Don’t.

Please don’t.

“Herr Sniper? Herr Sniper, what's wrong?”

Go away.

Go away.

Don’t.

Please don’t.

“Sniper? Sniper, bitte, answer me!”

Couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t talk.

The plane was falling.

The plane was collapsing.

The plane was getting smaller.

His van was getting smaller.

He was getting smaller.

“I… Sniper, I’m coming in!”

No.

Not like this.

Not when he was this.

No.

He couldn’t hear whether or not Medic had actually come in or not, his heart was too loud, he was too loud, his thoughts were too loud. That made everything so much worse.

The fear of knowing that Medic was there, but not really knowing where. The fear of having him see him like this, judging him, mocking him, telling him the obvious, that he was just overreacting, that just made his tears fall faster.

He knew he was overreacting, he knew this was stupid, but he just didn’t know how to stop.

He was being crushed, and he couldn’t get any smaller.

“Sniper? Sniper where…oh… Herr Sniper?” Medics voice had quickly gone from heightened worry to gentle concern in a matter of seconds, and somehow, someway, this was enough to break Sniper from his breathing, from his pointless spiral, his stupid muttering, his stupid… he’d been shouting, hadn’t he?

CRAP.

“Go away! Please, go away!” he gasped out, the shame within his heart building as he tried to do something, anything to just make himself disappear. He was mortified to be seen like this, mortified at the knowledge that he was being this stupid, mortified that Medic was stressing over… over this!

“Sniper… It’s ok, it’s going to be ok, I’m here now.” Medic assured, softly, quietly, gently, and that might’ve helped, that might’ve done something to help ease him… if he wasn’t getting closer.

Why was he getting closer?

He didn’t want him there.

He didn’t want him with him.

He didn’t want him to see him like this.

“Please! Go away! I don’t-I don’t-just go away!” Sniper pleaded desperately, but he knew Medic wouldn’t listen, after all, no sane person would ever drive away someone who was trying to help them, especially in a situation like this. He was though, but he was retarded.

“Sniper… Sniper, can you breathe?” When had he climbed the ladder to his bunk? Why had he climbed the ladder to his bunk? Why wasn’t he listening?

WHY WASN’T HE LISTENING?

“Bitte, take the covers off, you’re going to suffocate,” Medic pleaded, thankfully not sounding any closer, yet, “I know this is scary, I know that you must be terrified, but I promise getting fresh air will make you feel so much better. Can you at least make yourself some kind of airhole?”

That… ok, ok, he could try that, he could try that.

Why hadn’t he thought of that?

Why hadn’t he even thought about getting fresh air?

What was wrong with him?

He tried to move, honestly he did, he tried to uncurl himself enough to make a gap between the blankets and the outside world, but he couldn’t move. It was easier to stay like this, as if moving was no longer an option, as if it had never been an option at all.

It felt like breathing was barely an option, rather it was forced.

“Go away!” he pleaded again, this new shame making him cry even harder, even though he knew that in the end it was his own fault that he couldn’t do a thing. Stupid. He was stupid.

“It… Sniper, try taking deeper breaths,” Medic instructed patiently, getting closer again, now sitting next to him in his bed, “try taking a breath, holding it for a few seconds, then exhaling. Repeat that process as many times as you need to until you can think straight, ok?”

Medic was in his bed.

His bed.

He wasn’t supposed to be there.

Why was he there?

Why wouldn’t he just go away?

JUST GO AWAY!

With as much effort as he could, with as much power as he had left, Sniper took in a deep inhale, barely held it a second, then began sobbing again, before trying again, making better progress this time. “That’s it, that’s it,” Medic assured gently, his voice soothing, his presence actually starting to feel lighter the longer he was there, “you’re doing great, just keep breathing like that, deep breaths, just like that.

That was strange, because when he’d been in a similar state with Spy some months ago, Spy’s prolonged presence had felt like a burden, like a weight. Then again, that had been when he’d confronted him about his… past relationship… that was probably why.

“There you go, that’s better.” Medic sighed quietly as Sniper managed to breath again, and he discovered that while he was most certainly still shaking, the plane had stopped. Ok, things were getting better, not great, but… at least there was air.

Then, Medic placed his hand on his leg.

It was meant to be assuring, a simple sign from one person to another that they weren't alone, and that they were going to stay until everything got better. It was a sign of companionship, a sign of friendship, of caring, of simple human decency, empathy, kindness, it was meant to help him feel better, and he knew that’s what he meant by it. To literally anyone else, it would've been seen in a positive light, it would have been appreciated, it would have meant that everything would be ok.

But that’s not what it meant to Sniper, not at that moment, not when everything was so wrong.

It felt wrong, it felt invasive, it felt too close, too sudden, too much

Like it wasn’t supposed to be there.

Like at any moment it would become something it wasn’t supposed to be, though what that was Sniper didn’t know, all he knew was that it felt wrong, it felt bad, it felt scary.

Just like that, Sniper could move again. Well, almost.

His right leg could move, and it did.

From its previous position of being pressed up against himself, Sniper's right leg shot out, instantly kicking Medic away from him.

Though he didn’t see what happened, he didn’t need to.

He felt the sudden shift of weight leaving his bed, he heard Medic's startled cry, and he felt his own strength as his leg connected with Medic.

He heard the sound of Medic hitting the floor below.

“I SAID GO AWAY!!!” Sniper shouted, furious with himself, furious with Medic, terrified because of nothing and everything, hurting from how badly he needed air, hurting from pressure behind his eyes and in his heart, the shame of everything making him feel so unbearably hot, and of course, the lack of fresh air made this so, so much worse.

He’d told Medic to go away, this wasn’t his fault.

He’d told him to go away so many times, he hadn’t listened.

That was not his fault.

It wasn’t his fault, it couldn’t be his fault, not when he’d told him to go away, not when he’d begged for him to leave him alone.

He’d be lying if he said that it didn’t feel good having Medic there, he’d be lying if he said that Medic’s advice hadn’t helped, he’d be lying if he said that things weren’t getting better, and now he’d done this.

He hadn’t meant to do that, he hadn’t meant to hurt him, it just happened.

“You’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok, you’re ok…” he continued on, quietly this time, his breathing exercises from earlier having at the very least fixed that problem, though the same could not be said for the rest of him.

In fact, the rest of him felt ten times worse.

He’d hurt Medic.

He’d just kicked him off his bed, and for what? Trying to help him? Trying to do what any normal person would do? How was he to know that Sniper would hate it? Why should he have expected him to hate it? Normal people didn’t hate comfort, normal people didn’t hate when other people were kind to them, normal people didn’t hate something as normal as an assuring touch.

He did though, but he was wrong.

He was so terribly, terribly wrong, but for the life of him, he just didn’t know how to fix it.

So, he breathed, quick, panicked, choked breaths, while he shook like a child in a thunderstorm, as hate filled feelings swarmed throughout his entire being.

Failure. Traitor. Idiot. Lunatic. Worthless. Unprofessional. No. Good. Retard.

These feelings were true, these feelings were real, these feelings were everything.

What kind of moron hurt their friend over something like comfort? What kind of idiot told them to go away when they were trying to help? What kind of absolute retard couldn’t handle a hand being placed on them in an act of assurance?

It hurt, it hurt so, so badly, but he just didn’t know how to fix himself.

He just didn’t know why he was like this, and he hated himself for it.

He hated himself.

It stayed like that for some time, his whirlwind of feelings without form, his feelings of heat and discomfort, the stale, used up air going in and out of him without purpose, as more tears streaked down his face, uncaring for how they got everything wet. Sniper just couldn’t do anything, and he accepted it, after all, he was odd.

He was wrong.

He was retarded.

Then, much to his own surprise and bewilderment, he listened as Medic began to sing.

He had absolutely no idea what he was singing, for he sang in German, but whatever it was, it was soft, gentle, and repetitive, like a lullaby. His tone sounded bittersweet, nostalgic even, yet it was calm and present, with intent purpose behind it, strong and clear.

It was the surprise at hearing him sing more than the melody itself that stopped Sniper's manic self assurance, quickly changing it back into simple breathing, still rushed, choked, and panicked, but breathing nonetheless. He continued to listen, forcing his entire focus onto Medic, overjoyed that he was still with him, but guilt stricken at the idea that he was only here out of pity.

He didn’t deserve this, he’d just hurt him, physically hurt him, why was he still here?

Those thoughts drowned as quickly as they formed once he recentered his mind on Medic’s singing, and he soon remembered that he should be taking deeper breaths, holding them for a second, then exhaling. Remembering it was one thing, executing it was another entirely, but he had to try.

No, he had to.

So, he did.

Slowly, steadily, and with great effort, Sniper began to take deeper breaths, though holding them proved a bit trickier, so he just focused on that until he could think a bit clearer. It was hard, it was so incredibly hard, it almost hurt, but in the end he’d established a new pattern of breathing, all while Medic continued to sing, pausing momentarily every so often before continuing on, a single tether to the world amidst the never ending storm.

Amazingly, once he realized that he could breathe without choking, Sniper realized that he could open his eyes, which came as a great relief, and along with this, he realized he could move, albeit barely. He still shook, and his chest still felt like it was collapsing inward, but if he could open his eyes, then surely he could do other things.

So, he did.

Slowly, steadily, and with great effort, Sniper carefully reached out and pulled his covers off from over his head, and was met with instant relief as the cool, fresh air washed over his face and entered his lungs, bringing with it a sense of calm he so desperately needed. This made breathing so, so much easier, it made his chest feel lighter as well.

It also terrified him, because now he was in the open, now he could be seen.

He didn’t want to be seen like this, not without his aviators, not without his hat, it was just wrong.

He was wrong.

Medic wasn’t looking at him though, he was below him, singing, steadily, rhythmically, gently singing, somehow drowning out every other noise around them, which was strange, because that same voice had caused so much distress hardly a few minutes ago. It was different now though, there was understanding between them, there was peace.

Now that there was air, now that his chest began to lighten, he began to hold his breath for a few seconds after inhaling, before exhaling slowly, finding that with every breath, he felt that much closer to being, well, his version of normal.

He wondered if everyone's normal was the same as his.

He doubted it.

Then, finally, he stopped his methodical breathing, took in one last deep, long inhale, then released a shaky breath, before becoming still, his breathing normal at long last, albeit just a bit shaky.

He couldn’t help that though, for it wasn’t fear that caused it, but guilt.

Deep, sinking, heavy guilt, almost deep enough to send him into a spiral again. That didn’t happen though, Sniper refused to let it happen, not when there was nothing to be done about it, not after Medic had stayed with him for so long to keep him calm. He knew he wasn’t upset with him, his presence proved it, but he felt awful for keeping him here, awful for hurting him, awful for being unable to control himself. It wasn’t fair to Medic to have to deal with this, it was stupid.

He was stupid.

Ironically enough, it was the realization that Medic had stopped singing that snapped Sniper from his mind, the understanding that Medic now had his full attention on him making him terribly aware of himself. He’d probably been listening to him the whole time, waiting for him to calm, waiting to have a proper conversation, waiting for an explanation.

No, that wasn’t who Medic was, and he knew that, he was probably just worried sick.

Why did his mind betray him? Why did it always feel like someone was judging him? What was wrong with him?

“I’m sorry.” Sniper managed to say, hating how his voice broke, hating how his once quelled tears began to fall again, though at least his breathing remained in check. It hurt to speak, he didn’t want to, but he knew he had to, it was the least he could do. Besides, it was Medic, and right now, Medic was better than Spy.

So much better than Spy.

“Don’t be,” Medic assured gently, which didn’t help at all, “it wasn’t your fault, it was a reaction, nothing more. I should’ve read the situation better, that’s not on you.”
“It is on me!” Sniper protested angrily, “You shouldnt’ve had to worry about me hurtin’ you, normal people don’t hurt others when they’re tryin’ to comfort ‘em! I-I just-I just… I’m sorry!”
“Sniper, bitte, breathe,” Medic quickly instructed, which Sniper quickly began to do, trying to get ahead of his racing heart, "breathe meine friend, it’s ok, you’re going to be ok.”

“I don’t feel ok! None of this is ok!” Sniper cried out despairingly, “You’re all in my van, and you’re not supposed to be in my van! My van isn’t supposed to feel small, and now it is! I hate it! It’s stupid, but I hate it! I hate that everything’s small, I hate that you’re all in here all the time, and I hate that I hate it! I just want things to go back to normal!”

Sniper wanted to go on, he wanted to scream to the heavens until his voice gave out, but he instead bit his tongue, knowing damn well he sounded like a fool. Things couldn’t go back to normal, they would never go back to normal, so why on earth was he complaining about it? It was one thing to be upset, to be sad, to be remorseful, but this?

This was stupid.

“I know… I do too.” Medic said quietly, and all Sniper could do was swallow another sob that threatened to emerge, “I’m sorry about your van, it must be terribly uncomfortable having us all in your home like this… I wish there was something I could do to make it better for you, but… Well, is there anything I can do to make this better for you?”

Yes.

No.

Retard.

“Can’t do nothin’,” Sniper answered after forcing his emotions back for the moment, “just is what it is… I shouldn’t hate you, I shouldn’t hate any of you, but I do! I hate this! I hate all of this! I…” His heart hurt, his heart hurt so badly, but there was no fix. There was absolutely nothing anyone could do. He needed to accept reality, but he couldn’t, he wanted to though, he wanted to so, so badly.

“... I miss Engie… I miss ‘im so much… I want ‘im to be ‘ere, I want ‘im… I’m so stupid… so fuckin’ stupid…” Just like that, Sniper was crying again, softly this time, curling further into himself to try and get away from… he didn’t even know, he just needed to get away.

Medic’s silence only confirmed his truest thoughts, and now more than ever did he wish to be alone. There was no reason for Medic to deal with this, why should he have to deal with this? Sniper was a man, a grown man, and here he was, curled up in a ball crying about missing his friends. Men didn’t do that, grown ups didn’t do that, why was he doing it then?

What was wrong with him?

“What about him do you miss?” Medic asked softly, as if he understood, as if he knew exactly what Sniper was feeling. Of course he knew, he’d lost his whole team, he’d lost everything, and here Sniper was complaining about… this. He still had his van, he still had most of his team, and he was safe, why was he such a wreck?

Because his van was small, and they were all in it.

Because his team wasn’t whole.

Because he was trapped in a plane.

Because everything was wrong.

He was wrong.

The sound of Medic starting to move below him caught Sniper's attention, momentarily making his heartrate spike in fear, fear that he would get closer, fear that he would see him in such a terrible state. He was… doing something, opening one of his cupboards, the sound of a mug being grabbed, water being put into a pot … oh.

He was making some kind of drink.

That was ok, yes Medic was touching his things, but it was just a drink, probably for him anyway.

Amazingly, he really hoped Medic wasn’t making coffee.

“I… I miss ‘im, I miss ‘im being ‘ere, I miss…” Sniper once again swallowed, forcing deeper breaths for a moment before continuing on, “I miss how calm he was, how no matter what was happenin’, he never seemed bothered. Yeah, he got upset, he got angry, but… but he was never out of his head, he always just let everything roll of his back, and always bounced back from his problems after a bit… Heh… He always helped to keep Spy in check whenever he started going overboard, and was probably the only guy who could insult him to his face without gettin’ hit… He never made me feel stupid, even when I was bein’ stupid, and he was always honest… he was always honest… he never fuckin’ lied!” Sniper shouted that last part, he couldn’t help it.

He was angry.

“I feel like all I get from you and Spy are lies, and I can’t take it! You’re a mess, Spy’s a mess, Heavy’s a mess, and no one ever fuckin’ tells the truth to anyone! I feel like I’m carryin’ a fuckin’ mountain, Spy keeps tellin’ me all his fuckin’ secrets, fuck that’s my own fault cause I keep pressin’ ‘im for it, but only cause I can see ‘im destroyin’ ‘imself! He’s such a fuckin’ moron, and I know he’s not, he’s fuckin’ smart, but he’s too much of a goddamn coward to face up to ‘imself! I keep tryin’ to get ‘im to be honest, I keep tryin’ to get ‘im goin’ in the right direction, I keep tryin’ to git ‘im to talk to ya, but I- but I- I can’t fuckin’ do it! I wish Spy would just fuckin’ man up! I wish you’d quit lyin’ about your health! I wish everyone would stop actin’ like everythin’s ok! It’s not ok! Nothing’s ok, and you all keep fuckin’ lyin’ about it!

“Especially you! You’re fuckin’ hurtin’ every day, everyone can fuckin’ see it, and ya keep sayin’ you’re fine! Jesus Christ mate, you’re not fine! Ya haven’t been fine since those bastards tortured you, you’re probably never gonna be fine, and you’re probably just gonna end up hurtin’ yourself because you keep fuckin’ lying! Engie didn’t lie about anything, and he always caught someone else in a lie, I just wish he was here to deal with all of your lies, instead of me! I can’t fuckin’ take it!”

Saying it all out loud, finally speaking his truth, it was easily the best thing he’d done for himself in a long, long time. Who knew that the weight felt on one's chest was often just words that needed to be spoken? It was a wonder people didn’t do it more often, Sniper would have to remember this feeling in the future.

Of course, exactly five seconds after saying all this, he realized he had just said all this to Medic… who was not only dating Spy, but also the subject of the second half of his rant.

Crap.

“I… I didn’t… Piss off, I… I…” but he couldn’t speak, guilt and mortification overwhelming him entirely. Why on earth had he just said all that? Why hadn’t he just kept his mouth shut, or better yet, gone to someone else to talk about these things before it got this far out of hand? He could’ve easily gone to Heavy or Demo, they’d both proven themselves great listeners before, it would’ve been so simple.

But that was the problem, it was Heavy and Demo, and he’d never talked to them before about these sorts of things, not this intimately anyway, especially not when he was this much of a wreck. Engineer was fine, he was always calm, he always knew what to say, and even if he didn’t have an answer, he just helped. Spy… Well, Spy just knew everything, and had come to know him in ways that not even his own parents did, and… truthfully, he did appreciate it. It was just so hard being open, so hard being vulnerable, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be, it just felt like he was exposed, naked, and that everything he was could be used against… him…

Dear God, he was turning into Spy.

CRAP.

HE DIDN’T WANT TO BE SPY.

CRAP!!!!

“You’re right,” Medic admitted after what felt like far too long a silence, catching Sniper off guard with how blunt the response was, “you’re right meine friend, I haven’t been honest with you… With any of you, about how I have been feeling since… since before. I didn’t mean to lie, well, I did but… I figured that since there was nothing anyone could do about it, that I might as well not say anything. I didn’t want any of you to worry about something you couldn’t control.”

“But we do worry! Doc we worry all the fuckin’ time!” Sniper exclaimed, “You’re doin’ a piss poor job are hidin’ your pain, every time ya say, ‘I’m fine’, without any further explanation just tells us you’re hurtin’, and every time ya do somethin’ even remotely strenuous ya wince or suck in a breath! You’re so obviously in pain that it hurts t’listen to ya deny it!”

There, he said it, and damn it all he was not going to feel badly about it, not when Medic had finally been honest with him, he’d feel bad about many other things, but not that.

There was an awkward silence that followed Sniper's exclamation, not that he cared, quite frankly he was glad Medic finally knew what a terribly liar he was. By listening to Medic’s breathing, Sniper could tell that there were several times he tried to say something, stopped, tried again, only to stop again, clearly a bit awkward himself.

Good, served him right for lying.

“I uh… I guess I never was good with a bluff, was I?” Medic stated sheepishly, and if Sniper were feeling any better, he would’ve sat up and gave him a hard stare. Alas, he just didn’t have it in him. Medic then sighed defeatedly, before quietly saying, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to worry you, or cause you stress, I… I thought I was doing a better job at hiding meine pain, and… That doesn’t matter, I should have been honest, and I’m sorry for my dishonesty, I’ll… I’ll be more open about it, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Sniper said with great relief, “mate, thank you. I know I’m probably soundin’ real protective, I don’t mean to be, but… Doc, if somethin’s wrong with ya, and then somethin’ bad happens while we’re fightin’, and we don’t know about your problem, that could cause a problem for all of us, and… I don’t mean to put that kinda pressure on ya, I just don’t wanna have a heart attack mid fight cause it turns out that you’ve gone down for one reason or another.”

“I understand.” Medic replied quietly, his tone a bit sullen, clearly understanding Snipers logic, but not liking it all the same. That made sense, no one wanted to be thought of as a liability, let alone fret over in an already stressful situation, but it was what it was. All things considered though, things could be worse, much worse, and Sniper was grateful that Medic was at the very least stable, just a bit uncomfortable at times from what he could tell.

Like Medic said though, there was nothing anyone could do about it at the moment.

“If it makes you feel any better, I am feeling better,” Medic assured with a more hopeful tone, “I think the stress from everything, as well as the cold environment, was making me feel worse, but last night's sleep really helped me out. I really do think this is a turning point… If it’s not, I’ll be sure to let you know… I’ll let everyone know.”

He sounded honest, he didn’t sound like he was trying to hide anything, which was a step in the right direction. Good, one down, one to go, though unfortunately, the other one had proven to be much more… complicated.

Bloody wuss.

“I’m gonna hold ya to that, and I bloody mean that.” Sniper promised quite seriously, which got a lighthearted chuckle out of Medic, the sound of water being poured into a mug getting Snipers attention. “I’m glad to hear that, I think I’m going to need the… uh… you know…”
“Accountability?”
“Ja, that, accountability.”
“How is it that you can remember those big fancy medical words, but ya can’t remember a word like accountability?”
“I have no idea.”

Sniper just laughed to himself, before finding that his current position was no longer quite as comfortable as it had once been, and that he was starting to become stiff. With a quiet inhale, he then stretched himself out, officially abandoning his previous position in favor of one that saw him simply lying out normally. The smell of chamomile tea suddenly entering the air also helped to calm him, as well as making him realize he was incredibly thirsty.

Maybe water first, then tea, no need to burn himself.

“Uh, doc?” Sniper asked a bit hesitantly, now feeling awkward about his current position, “Could uh… Could ya git me a glass of water first? Please?”
“Natürlich.” Medic stated understandingly, and soon after Sniper once again heard the sound of a glass being grabbed, and water running from his kitchenette sink. This then led him to the realization that Medic would have to then give him the water, and that he really, really did not want to be seen by Medic.

The simple solution of course would be to simply put his hat and aviators on… which were currently on the table below.

Crap.

There he was benign stupid again… no, odd.

Good, but odd.

Key word being odd.

“Uh… Doc?”
“Ja?”
“... Could uh… could ya… could ya hand me my uh… my hat and glasses…?”

There was a momentary pause, and for a moment Sniper truly did fear that Medic was about to ask why. Thankfully, and perhaps expectantly, he didn’t, and instead he simply replied again with, “Natürlich.” Somehow, it was said in an even more understanding tone than the first time, which only cemented his first fundamental truth even further into his mind.

Good, but odd.

Moments later, he felt his hat and glasses be placed at the end of his bunk where his ladder was, and the glass of water placed very, very carefully with them, being leaned against the wall for good measure. “Don’t worry, I didn’t scratch them or get them filthy.” Medic assured with a confident tone, which got an amused snort from Sniper as he went to grab his belongings. Once both items were secure on his person, he instantly felt a hundred times better about Medic being in his van, and more weight lifted from his chest.

Drinking, no, chugging the water that had been provided helped to ease the weight as well, as well as just hydrate him, relieve a headache that had begun to form, and overall just provide great relief.

“Would you like any honey with your tea?” Medic asked once Sniper had finished inhaling the water, and Sniper wasn’t quite sure how he felt about Medic’s constant listening to him. On the one hand, it felt invasive, but on the other hand, he understood that he was a doctor, and that’s just what doctors did. That, and it was Medic, so of course he was going to do the absolute best he could to make sure he was ok.

He supposed he could appreciate it then, just for this instance.

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.” Sniper replied, and soon enough, Medic had climbed the ladder up to his bunk to offer him his tea, which was currently held in his #1 Sniper mug, his personal favorite, the one his mum had gotten him. By that point Sniper was fully sat up, though his blankets were firmly wrapped around his shoulders, and despite everything, he just couldn’t bring himself to look Medic in the eyes.

He knew he should, he knew he should look him in the eyes and thank him for everything he’d done, apologize for kicking him, and just be a decent person and give him the respect he deserved… but he couldn’t bring himself to.

He didn’t know why, but it just felt wrong.

He was wrong.

“I uh… I’m real sorry about all this mess, I…” Sniper then sighed, pulling his hat a bit tighter on his head as he did so, “I dunno what’s wrong with me…”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, meine friend,” Medic assured as he handed him his tea, which Sniper gratefully took, “we’re all different in our own ways, and that’s perfectly fine. This is just where you happen to struggle, everyone has something like this, whether they admit it or not, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Yeah… but normal folks don’t… do this…” Sniper muttered as he sipped his tea, practically melting as the warm liquid made its way through him. “I don’t think normal people travel in a camper van, and fly to Australia to get rid of a billionaire's source of immortality.” Medic argued back factually, which got an accepting snort from Sniper as he swallowed more of his drink, nearly causing him to choke.

“I see you agree.”
“Shut up.”

Medic then laughed to himself quietly, before sighing as the air around them went quiet again. At long last, things were starting to get better, granted, he was still stuck within the flying box of death, but his van was starting to feel normal again, and that made all the difference in the world. That, and he’d actually been able to give Medic a piece of his mind and not say anything stupid, truly a win, not that he had a track record of saying regrettable things, that honor belonged firmly to Spy.

Stupid wanker.

At least some of the lies were gone, and with all luck that would lead the way to more lies being done away with, should Medic actually grow enough of a spine to confront Spy about it. Could Sniper simply tell Medic all he knew? Of course he could. Was it his place to mediate their relationship and divulge each other's secrets?

Hell no, he wasn’t touching that with a sixty foot pole, he’d had just about enough of that. Dare he say, they both should thank him for their relationship, seeing as he probably put the most work into it, at least on Spy’s side of it anyway. One day he’d rub that in both of their faces, once everything settled down a bit more, one day.

Sniper then sighed contentedly to himself, and finally lifted his gaze to meet Medics, seeing him smiling at him with relief, those forever compassionate eyes of his promising that everything was going to be ok. Sniper didn’t know how he did it, but he truly did respect him for it. Maybe one day he could learn to have that same faith, that same blind belief that everything would turn out well in the end.

Maybe one day.

“Why dontcha make yourself comfortable, no need for ya to stand on the bloody ladder while I sit here like a fuckin’ catipilar in a cacoon.” Sniper invited as he made some room, deciding that so long as he was monitoring the situation, then it would be fine if Medic was in his bed. It wasn’t like he’d be sleeping it, just sitting on it, and besides, he wasn’t filthy, unlike half the other hooligans.

“Are… Are you sure?” Medic asked, and Sniper simply gave him a look that explained that if he said it was ok, then he meant that it was ok. That was enough for Medic, who, after taking off his boots, climbed up into the bunk with Sniper, leaning himself against the wall as Sniper continued to drink his tea. “It’s very comfortable up here.” Medic complimented as he felt the blankets beneath him. “Thanks.” Sniper said quietly, before sighing to himself as he felt his entire body begin to heat up, making him incredibly tired.

“You uh… You mind stayin’ with me? Till the flight’s over?” Sniper asked a bit hesitantly, knowing Medic would say yes, but still feeling awkward about it all the same. Grown men didn’t need friends to help them through stupid trouble like this after all, normal people certainly didn’t either, but he wasn’t normal, and he knew that, and at this point, Medic did too.

“Not at all.” Medic confirmed with a kind smile, which Sniper was quick to return, along with an appreciative nod. “Thanks mate, means a lot… so uh… whatcha wanna talk about?”
“Well, I noticed that your stove heated the water very quickly, is that intentional, or modified?”

Sniper just let out a quick laugh at Medic’s observation, before saying with a bittersweet tone, “Yeah, had Engie do that for me, got tired of havin’ to wait for my coffee, especially when I was in a rush… he uh, he did a lotta work on my van actually.”
“Really?” Medic stated with surprise, “I didn’t think you’d let him.”
“Yeah well, he earned it… Well, more like I needed a fix real bad, and he was my only option, but uh, that earned ‘im the right to keep messin’ with it.”

“Is that how the giant flamethrower ended up in the garage?” Medic asked knowingly, his smile turning a bit more mischievous at the memory of its grand exit. “Hehehe, yeah, we made that durin’ the blizzard to help clear the road.” Sniper recalled fondly, which also lead him to recall the rest of that day, and all his ridiculous emotions and harsh feelings. All that seemed so far away now, his fear of change, his distrust of Medic, his hatred towards Spy’s bleeding heart, it felt like all that belonged to an entirely different person.

Good, that was proof that he could evolve with different situations, and that was good to know.

It felt good knowing that he knew how to adapt, even if it took him just a bit longer than others.

“Ya know, when me and Engie was buildin’ that thing, I was so fuckin’ pissed off,” Sniper admitted quietly as Medic listened closely, “I was pissed that you were there, pissed at Spy for bein’ soft, and pissed at life… and Engie just listened… That’s what I miss ‘bout ‘im the most, even if he didn’t have a solution, he always just listened, and… made me feel normal… kinda… kinda like how you’re doin’.”

Once again Medic smiled, practically radiating with gratitude, and at that moment, for the first time since entering the plane, everything felt like it was going to be ok.

Chapter Text

By the time they landed in Hawaii the sun was starting to set, though there was at least an hour of daylight left. As previously decided, instead of simply refueling and taking off again, they’d go ahead and spend the night and leave early in the morning, seeing as they had a lovely twelve hour flight ahead of them. Could they simply refuel and make it there in time for the sunrise? Absolutely, however between Scout and Pyro wanting to explore a little, and Albert not wanting to fly an enormous plane overnight if he didn’t need to, it just made a bit more sense that way.

Not that Spy was complaining, any excuse to get off the plane was a good one.

Granted, his flight experience hadn’t been bad, but hiding himself away had put him in a terribly awkward position about three hours in, for when he had finally finished his self reflection, brooding, and planning, he’d realized that he’d have to give an explanation to his team as to why he’d been absent, and that was something he really, really didn’t want to do.

Therefore, he’d spent the remainder of the flight alone, knowing that the chances of them asking where he was would decrease the longer he was gone, instead taking that time to smoke, and mull over his current standings with Medic. Perhaps unsurprisingly, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he’d been a bit cold to his lover whenever the man had tried to help him, or simply ask what was going on in his life. He realized that there was probably a very real reason that Medic hadn’t tried to approach him again during the flight, and that, as he’d predicted so long ago, he’d probably hurt him.

It wasn’t his fault that he needed to keep secrets, well, it was, but there was just too much history, too many mistakes that had been made, and far too many unforgivable choices to ever truly be explained, some past, some present. There just had to be a way to explain all of this to Medic, there had to be a way to explain to him that this would be the nature of their relationship, for both their sakes, for his protection… for Spy’s protection…

Sniper would kill him if he could hear those thoughts, and he knew it, but thankfully he couldn’t, therefore, that’s all they would remain as… thoughts. Somehow, someway, he had to figure out how to be honest with Medic, he had to figure out how to walk him through his mind and history without losing him forever, and he just didn’t know how. On the one hand, he could simply follow through with his personal promise, and tell Medic everything the next time he asked, but something told him that wouldn’t be the right thing to do, not when he’d already broken that promise mere hours before.

He’d have to ease into it, he’d have to slowly explain to Medic everything, starting somewhere small, starting with something that wouldn’t instantly drive him away… but what? The truth about his relationship with Pauling would probably be the best place to start, for in that situation he had truly done no wrong, but what he foresaw happening was Medic instantly feeling indebted to him, instantly negating any chances at a real relationship. That was just who Medic was, and Spy would not do that to him, he refused.

It was funny, three months ago Spy would’ve been elated at the idea of someone worshipping him, never questioning him, simply giving in to him, but now…

No such a thought made him sick.

Well… the thought of his lover seeing him that way made him sick anyway…

Either way, maybe that wasn’t the best starting point, simply walking up to Medic and saying, ‘oh by the way the only reason you’re alive is because I was willing to sacrifice myself for you without any hope of surviving’, would not be the right way to start being honest with him.

Perhaps starting with the fact that the only reason he accepted the mission in the first place was to save Ludwig would be better, as again, he’d done no wrong… though that would lead to the question of, ‘why didn’t you want to work with Miss Pauling in the first place?’ A simple lie would be enough to divert him from the truth, there were a million reasons after all, but he didn’t want to add any more lies to the already enormous pile of lies he had, he wanted to be honest, completely, totally honest.

Not really, he was terrified at the thought of being honest, but his heart was slowly starting to outweigh his mind, but that was a whole other problem. When his heart had started to take over his soul was a question Spy simply would never be able to truly answer, he could theorize as to when that exact moment had been, but he simply had no idea. His best guess would be when he’d broken down crying in Medics arms the evening they’d lost Engineer, but it might’ve been before that, or was it after?

It didn’t matter, all he knew was that his ever moving, ever calculating mind was starting to fail him, and that his heart was picking up its slack, which left him in his current predicament. All things considered, he’d been through worse mental conflicts, one game of Russian roulette came to mind when it came to that honor, but still, this was definitely one of, if not the most divisive. To be honest would be to lose Medic, to lie would be to lose Medic, a lose-lose situation no matter how he looked at it.

At least he didn’t have to worry about Albert's blackmail anymore, he’d already found the perfect solution for that, and it was so incredibly simple. He’d just call his mother, and tell her to tell him to knock it off, after all, there was no way Charlotte would let him burn in such a way, she just wouldn’t. Albert had been clever to pull such a card, and Spy would give him credit for that, but he and Charlotte just shared too great a bond, and that arrogant bastard was about to learn the hard way just how great that bond was.

If his contemplations on the flight had solved anything, it would be that, and that alone, which was better than nothing at all.

Now he just had to figure out what he was going to do with Medic… No, he had to figure out what he was going to do with himself, a far, far more complicated problem. To be honest, or to lie, that was the question, one with no real answer, no real solution, and worst of all, no clean ending.

***

The best word to describe the remainder of Medic’s flight experience would be therapeutic. True, the random bouts of turbulence would intermittently disturb the peace he and Sniper had established, but they never truly caused chaos, just quick moments of panic that were over as quickly as they started. In fact, the more Medic thought about it, the more he realized that this was probably the most time he’d ever spent with Sniper, and somehow, he felt as though he finally knew the man.

That wasn’t to say he hadn’t known him before, not at all, it just felt as though he truly knew him now, and that Sniper finally felt safe enough around him to let down his guard. He felt like he saw him genuinely smile more throughout the flight than he had during the entire time he’d been a part of the Red team. He’d certainly talked more too, in fact, it turned out that Sniper had quite a bit to say about everything that was going on, about his teammates, how he felt about himself, what he thought about the current situation, and his feelings on Engineer and Ludwig.

He also had quite a bit to say about Spy.

Sniper had lots to say about what a wuss he’d been before they’d gotten together, he had lots to say about how annoying it was constantly trying to convince him to man up and confess, merely for him to chicken out again. He had lots to say about how Spy constantly kept going to him with his problems instead of going to Medic, he had lots to say about how rude Spy was when he got upset, he had lots to say about how stupidly complicated he was. He especially had a lot to say about how it was all driving him absolutely insane, and how he felt like he was just about ready to throttle him.

All things considered, Medic was surprised that Sniper hadn’t broken down sooner.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Sniper had passed out and fallen into a deep sleep after almost two hours of nonstop venting, safe and sound at last, both within his mind, and in his van. He’d been joined shortly by Medic, who had shared in the venting, though much of what he’d said he’d said during the poker game, so there isn’t much need to recount it. It hadn’t been a deep sleep, not for Medic anyway, but it had been sleep nonetheless, and it felt very good.

That was why when the plane did land, jostling around as it did so, both Medic and Sniper awoke with startled yelps as they clung to whatever they could, that being the blankets, and thankfully not each other. It continued to speed forward on the ground for some time before finally slowing to a regular speed, though neither man was nearly awake enough to comprehend what was going on, so they simply continued to hold on for dear life.

“Alright gentlemen and Pyro,” Albert announced over the intercom, sounding a bit far off due to them being in the van, “we have officially landed in O’ahu, and will be movin’ to more secure grounds shortly. We have two options ahead of us, and they are as follows: one, you lot stay in the plane and wait til we take off tomorrow, probably safer that way, but not really. Two, I get you guys off the base and into civie territory, you’ll actually probably be a bit safer that way, and it’ll get Jerry outta my hair about seein’ the island. You lot converse amongst yourselves and get back to me once you’ve reached a decision. Once again, thank you for choosin’ Albert airlines, I hope you guys enjoyed the flight.”

“Sniper? Sniper, are you ok?” Medic asked once his heart finally left his throat, finally able to let go of the blankets as he started to sit up. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m good mate,” Sniper confirmed a moment later, once again firmly under the covers as he also tried to make sense of what happened, “just uh… just uh… bit startled…”
“That would make two of us meine friend.” Medic chuckled quietly, before giving a relieved sigh as reality finally caught up with his sleep-addled mind.

“Yeah, yeah… Doc? Anyone ever tell ya that ya scream like a shiela?”
“I… What?”
“Uh… ya know what, never mind.”

There was a moment of silence as Medic tried to figure out what exactly a ‘shiela’ was, before Sniper suddenly asked in a more urgent tone, “Mate… were you sleepin’ in my bed?” Medic paused for a moment, knowing full well that he had been, but not exactly knowing how to de-escalate the situation. Unfortunately his silence gave away the truth, which caused a low groan to escape Sniper as he finally sat up, pulling the blankets off himself as he adjusted his hat and aviators.

“Mir lied.” Medic quickly apologized, watching as Sniper gave one last deep sigh before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Thanks, all’s good,” Sniper assured, before letting out another groan like noise while looking around him, “just don’t make a habit of it, eh? Though uh… I guess I can make this time an exception, just this once mind you.”
“Perfectly understandable.” Medic agreed, before finally making his way out of the bunk, putting his boots back on, and walking out of the van to meet with the rest of the team.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, he found them still at the poker table, though surprisingly, he saw that Pyro was now wearing almost all of Soldier's clothing, save his underwear. Medic thought about asking about what had led to this, he thought about commenting on the stupidity of the situation, and he thought of lecturing them on their silly choices, but all that came out of him was a defeated sigh, which sent the message he wanted to convey perfectly well.

“It’s not my fault! I ran out of money!” Soldier quickly explained without a hint of shame, all while Pyro began to walk towards the cockpit, giggling like a maniac as he went, Soldier's helmet moving about his head precariously as he went. “And that’s why I stopped while I was ahead.” Medic stated factually, quickly checking the other two players for signs of misplaced clothing, and to his great relief, he found none. “No risk, no reward!” Soldier argued back, which merely got him a sympathetic pat on the back from Demo, who appeared to have his luck return to him at some point during the game.

“So they say lad, so they say,” Demo agreed with a kind smile, before turning to Medic and saying, “now then, what the bloody hell have ya been up to? Ya vanished for hours lad, everythin’ alright with Snipe?”
“Uh, it is now,” Medic assured hesitantly, not wanting to say anything too personal, “I was right about the klaustrophobie- uh, claustrophobia, and it also appeared as though general stress was getting to him as well. It’s all resolved now, nothing simple conversation couldn’t fix… and a good nap.”

“Aw, I shoulda taken a nap!” Demo lamented, “It was the perfect place for it! Lots’a white noise, bit’a movin’ around, reminds me of bein’ on a boat… Christ I miss bein’ on a boat.”
“When were you on a boat?” Medic asked, genuinely curious. “Oh, lots of times, I’ve gone huntin’ for the Loch Ness monster more times than I can count, bloody bastard. That, and me and yar old Bllllll-uuuhhhhh, ya know, that previous common connection we had used to go fishin’ quite a bit durin’ our down time.”
“Nice save.”
“Hehe, thanks.”

“What common connection?” Heavy asked with intrigue, which caused Demos' eye to widen in horror, and Medic to simply want to disappear. “Uhhhh… Ya know, just a common friend we discovered we shared, no one ya woulda heard of, just uh… common friend, nothin’ more.” Demo assured in what was possibly the worst attempt at a casual voice Medic had ever heard. “Ja, what he said.” Medic also assured in an equally unconvincing tone, instantly internally cursing both himself and Demo. Heavy just looked between the two of them for a moment, wholly unconvinced, before letting out an unconvincing grunt and walking away, being sure to grab Soldier as he went, so that they could retrieve his clothing.

After both men gave a relieved sigh, they simply exchanged relieved glances, while Medic shook his head in disbelief at his friend's lack of forethought, while Demo replied with a sheepish grin and shrug. Not their best save, but at least Demo hadn’t made that slip in front of Spy or-

“Yeah, what common connection?" Sniper asked suspiciously, causing both men to shriek in absolute horror, while nearly jumping out of their skins, neither one quite sure as to when Sniper had exited his van and snuck up behind them.

***
After not a lot of debate between the team, it was decided that they would exit the plane and spend the night on the island, much to the excitement of Scout and Pyro, and much to the great apprehension of Spy. He didn’t want to risk getting caught, especially in an environment he knew absolutely nothing about, where they literally had nowhere to run, but at the same time, no one expected them to be there. There was no one looking for them, there was no news channel broadcasting their crimes, there was no great alert in the area declaring who they were and what they looked like, they were thousands of miles away from all of that.

In all reality, they were the safest they’d been in a long, long time, and leaving the plane would be as easy as Albert simply driving the van off the plane and off of the base, he’d clearly proven he could get away with such actions, but all the same, Spy worried. Alas, he had been promptly outvoted by everyone.

“Aw man, I’m so freakin’ excited!” Scout exclaimed, all but vibrating as he bounced in place, somehow sitting in between Spy and Pyro, “I’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii, check it all out, hit the beach, see the hot hula babes, do some surfin’, see the babes, see a freakin’ volcano, check out the babes, do some snorklin’, go to a luau with hula babes!”

“Scout, say ‘babes’ one more time, Heavy will kill you.” Heavy declared in a very irked, very flat tone. “Relax dude, we’re at vacation spot 101, ya can’t afford to be grouchy right now.” Scout argued back calmly as he leaned back, moving his hands behind his head as he leaned and resting on them. “Scout. Do not say ‘babes’. Is Annoying.” Heavy warned one last time, which got Scout to scoff, but in the end, he did stay quiet.

Until Pyro said what everyone presumed to be the word, ‘babes’, which instantly got both him and Scout to start giggling like maniacs, only to instantly stop when Heavy leaned forward a bit at them. This in turn caused Spy to smile to himself.

Thankfully, the van stopped shortly afterwards, which got several relieved sighs in response. No sooner had the van stopped, when suddenly Sniper leapt from his bed, where he had been residing for the drive, and flew out the van with a speed Spy had only seen him achieve once before, that being when he was running to save his van from the army. Once he hit the ground, he instantly collapsed onto it, which was hardened sand, the kind you find in a parking lot at a beach, while feverishly muttering out prayers of thanks, holding onto the ground in whatever way he could.

Everyone watched this for a moment awkwardly, none of them quite sure as to what to do, nor say to their friend as he continued to cling to the ground, clearly having not been ok whatsoever with their previous position.

He’d been in distress, he’d been scared, of course he’d be scared, he couldn’t stand tight places, he couldn’t stand his van being invaded, he couldn’t stand flying, and what had Spy been doing that whole time? Smoking quietly while mulling over himself, not once thinking about his good friend. Because of course he had, of course he’d been selfish.

“Hey uh, Snipe? You uh… Ya get possessed at some point?” Scout asked a bit worriedly, to which Sniper said nothing, and instead rolled over onto his back, looking up at the sky while taking slow, deep breaths, now spreading his limbs out as if he was going to make a snow angel… sand angel? “Just… shut up.” Sniper stated in a surprisingly calm tone, his breathing now starting to become normal again.

“Someone got a case of claustrophobia back here?” Albert asked as he made his way to the back of the van, appearing more amused than worried. “Shut up.” Sniper again ordered, much more venomously this time. “Alright, alright, touchy subject,” Albert muttered as he lit himself a cigarette, “anyway, I parked us near a beach away from any public eyes, there’s a town about a mile inland if you guys want civilization, personally Ima go ahead and walk back to the base, if ya need me, radio, copy?”

“Loud and clear, Al!” Scout confirmed excitedly as he and Pyro jumped out of the van, “Now let’s go dude, we gotta go check out some hot hula babes!” Pyro then gave a loud whoop of excitement, and just as the two were about to run off, Albert snatched Scout by the back of his shirt, stopping him instantly, a blank, yet obviously irked look upon his face. “C’mon dude, whaddya doin’, I gotta go before it gets too dark!” Scout protested, instantly shutting up when Albert yanked him back to get his attention.

“I’m sorry… What did ya call the gals who live here?” Albert asked with a barely contained ire, causing Pyro to slowly back away from his reach. “Uh… hot hula babes?” Scout repeated with confused worry. Albert then looked at him with a level of disappointment Spy himself had never looked at Scout with, and asked with potent sarcasm, “And who, pray tell, taughtcha to talk about gals like that, cause I sure as fuck didn’t.”
“Uh… well ya see… Ya know, it’s gals, they uh… ya know… they’s babes and-”

“Alright, we need to talk, let’s go.” Albert declared as he began to drag Scout away from his team, only to pause, look back at Pyro, and quickly run and grab him too before he could get away, to which Pyro yelped in protest. “Aw c’mon man, this is bullshit! I’m just tryin’ to enjoy myself a bit, where’s the harm in that?!?” Scout protested. “Becuase guy’s ‘enjoyin’’ themselves a bit is what led to me, you, and all our brothers bein’ born ya freakin’ idiot! Not to mention I ain’t gonna have no misogynist for a brotha! Nor am I gonna have his weirdo friend be one either! I refuse to have ya end up like your dead beat dad!”

Pyro was very quick to protest this accusation, stuttering around for a response, before boldly declaring… something. “I don’t see how you probably being Lebanese has anything to do with you not being misogynistic!” Scout exclaimed, to which Pyro desperately tried to correct him, but by that point they were all out of earshot, for better or for worse.

“Well… I’m glad to see he’s got a male role model in his life… Not that we’re not, but ya know… It’s not the same comin’ from us.” Demo stated with a relieved tone, mixed in with a hint of awkwardness. “Nyet, he has us, but is better from brother, is more personal.” Heavy corrected with what Spy perceived as a rather sage tone of voice. “True, true.” Demo admitted, before looking down at Sniper, who hadn’t moved an inch. “Uh… ya plan on stayin’ with yar van, or should I gitcha a motel room in town?”

“I’ll stay out here, thanks.” Sniper replied, a new sense of calm surrounding him as he continued to lay on the ground, clearly being exactly where he needed to be. “Right then, suit yarself, me personally, Ima head into town and git set up for the night, anyone comin’ with?”
“Da, I will join, though I will probably come back to beach once everything is good.”
“I will also join you! Then I shall go and pay my respects at Pearl Harbor, you should expect me back at the motel at 20:00 pm!” Soldier declared with a more solemn tone of voice, though that did make sense, at least this time.

“You go on without me, I’ll stay here for a moment.” Spy declared, and when he turned to face Medic to see what he would do, he found that he was no longer with them, and for some reason, that made his heart hurt. No, he knew why it made his heart hurt, he just didn’t like accepting that someone could make his heart hurt by simply being away from him. “If you are wondering where Medic went, I saw him walk over to the beach when Albert was dragging Scout and Pyro away!” Soldier declared, to which Spy merely sighed and nodded, wondering how exactly he was going to approach his lover now that he was avoiding him.

Honestly, it was probably more karma catching up to him, again.

“Thank you, Soldier,” Spy said with a genuinely grateful tone, before he turned to Demo and said “and Demo, don’t worry about us, I’ll make sure we get a room for the night.”
“Right then, you two take yar time, enjoy the beach… Oh, I’ll make sure Scout and Pyro are set.”
“Merci.”

With that, Sniper and Spy were left alone, with only the sound of the nearby ocean and sea breeze providing any noise. It was peaceful, though by no means did it cover the heaviness and worry within Spy’s heart, nothing could do that now. Once he could’ve done that, once he had been able to hide away such guilt, but that time had passed, and his mind was no longer an entity unto itself.

Such was nature, such was life, this was it meant to be human, and slowly, slowly, he was accepting that.

***

The first thing that hit Medic when they’d left the van was how incredibly warm it was. This wasn’t a heater, this wasn’t copious layers of coats to keep out winter cold, this wasn’t the strange air of San Francisco, this was warmth, true, genuine warmth. It made him feel relaxed in a way he hadn’t been in a long time, the type of relaxation that only exists in such weather, in such wonderful temperatures. There was the breeze too, and while it certainly wasn’t warm like the air around him, it wasn’t cold, and that made all the difference in the world.

This was what he’d needed, this is what his body had so desperately needed, a true escape from the cold, a true escape from the environments that had caused such havoc, a true escape from any and all fear. Quincy’s home had been close to this, but not quite, after all, there had still been a chance that they’d be found, still a chance that something would go wrong, still a chance that they’d have to get up and flee, but not here. Here, they were safe, there was no army, there was no one to hide from, and there was no hesitancy or doubts, it was finally calm.

That calm had been what had drawn Medic away from his team while their little chaos had ensued, not that Scout didn’t have it coming, but he just didn’t have the desire to stay and watch, or add any comments. He trusted his team, they would sort themselves out just fine, and if Spy began to wonder where he was, well, he knew that he could find him, such was his profession. He felt badly for it, but deep down he hoped that Spy wouldn’t come looking for a while, because at that moment, with only the ocean to keep him company, he really just wanted to be alone.

Of course he wanted to talk with Spy, of course he wanted to be with him, but… but he was so tired of the secrets, so tired of trying to figure out how to make sense of him, and what was really going on. He would make sense of it, one day, but not at that moment, not when this place gave him so much peace of mind.

The ocean always had that affect on him, he wasn’t quite sure why, but it always had.

Memories of when he was still a boy came to mind first, of when his family would travel to the ocean in the summertime, and leave Berlin behind for two weeks. The water of the Baltic sea had always been cold, but never cold enough to deter him, back then he’d been invincible. At first, it had just been him and his father who played in the waves, then his sisters had grown big enough, finally his brother too, all while his mother had watched from the shore, too afraid of sea monsters to even think about setting foot in the water. They never lasted as long as he had though, not even his father, and at the end of the day, he was always the last one still in the water.

Medic couldn’t help but smile at some of his earliest memories of the sea: pretending to be a creature from the deep, having his father chase him through the waves, searching for hidden treasure under the water, even his father dragging him out of the ocean at the end of the day while he cried and begged to stay in the water, all while his father swore he’d turn into a big pink raisin if he stayed any longer.

Those times didn’t last forever, but they did evolve into something different, and equally wonderful. He remembered playing with his sisters as they pretended to be mermaids, he remembered chasing them through the waves, he remembered teaching his brother how to swim, he remembered teaching them how to search for treasure under the waves. He especially remembered his father sneaking up on them while they were distracted, only to grab an unsuspecting victim and dunk them underwater while claiming to be the kraken, all while his poor mother worried that they’d catch a cold.

Dear God, how he missed his father.

At that moment, the ocean shone brilliantly, the sun finally starting to touch the water as a myriad of clouds turned the sky a soft pink color, hiding away the last echoes of blue and yellow within it. The waves ebbed and flowed steadily onto the shore, not crashing, not splashing, just moving softly, gracefully, beautifully. There wasn’t a soul in sight, not to the left, nor to the right, it was just him, the sea grass, the sand, the ocean, and whatever creatures lay beneath the waves.

Actually, now that he thought about it, Medic found that the water looked really inviting, if only just to stand in, nothing more. After making sure once more that he was well and truly alone, Medic took off his boots and socks, and rolled up his pants up to his knees, finding that the sand below him was oddly cold, but still, it was a welcoming feeling. He also took off his medical coat, vest, tie, and glasses, though he wasn’t sure why he removed his glasses, probably out of habit from every other time he’d gone into the ocean.

Then, he walked across the soft sand, onto the harder, wetter sand, and into the ocean, walking as far as he could before his pants got wet. It was warmer than he expected it to be, in fact, he’d forgotten that he was currently in the pacific, and not the Atlantic. He was in Hawaii, of course the water would be warm, of course it would feel good… so, so good.

Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to walk just a bit further out, maybe.

The bottoms of his pants were now soaked, the ebbing and flowing of the ocean raising enough to make sure of it, the sand under him very slowly starting to bury his feet. Feeling this, feeling the setting sun warming him, feeling the water around him, knowing that his clothes were already a little wet, he found that another memory came to mind, one that had caused him his fair share of trouble.

He recalled when he and his family would walk on the beach, and he would walk in the water, going as far out as he could before getting his pants wet, his mother always warning him not to get his good clothes wet. He recalled running back to the shore to avoid the waves, eager to heed his mothers advice… until he tripped and got himself absolutely soaked. The first time it happened, it had been a real, genuine accident, born out of a real desire to stay dry… the hundreds of times afterwards though, were not accidental whatsoever.

Neither of his parents had been pleased when he passed the knowledge of ‘tripping in the water’ to his younger siblings.

However, there were no parents right now, there were no siblings, he was alone… with no one telling him not to get his clothes wet. He was a man, a grown man who had saved lives, fought battles, killed, survived the unsurvivable, paid taxes… he bought his own clothes… he did his own laundry… he had free will, and the water looked terribly, terribly nice.

With all this in mind, with the knowledge that he was alone, and with the understanding that he was in charge of his own clothing, Medic then closed his eyes, and fell face first into the water, allowing himself to simply exist, surrounded by water, alone with nothing but memories from a lifetime ago.

***

“So… how uh… how long ya reckon he’s been like that?”
“Well… probably since he left us, if I’m to be honest.”
“Mhm, mhm… Last I knew he was ok, nothin’ uh, nothin’ bad… I think he’s just enjoyin’ ‘imself.”
“I think so too, and you know what, good for him.”
“Yeah, good for ‘im, good for ‘im.”

It had taken Sniper a surprisingly long time to actually get up from the ground, not that Spy was complaining, listening to the ocean and breeze around him had been quite nice, and clearly, his good friend needed it as well. Actually, the two of them had spent the better half of fifteen minutes just smoking together, enjoying the fact that they weren’t freezing. It wasn’t hot, but it wasn’t cold either, it was that perfect, spring-like temperature where you could choose if you wanted a jacket or not.

Of course, Sniper did eventually get up, finally feeling like himself again, at which point they both went to find Medic, figuring that he was simply enjoying some peace and quiet on the beach. What they found was a small pile of his clothes and shoes, with the man himself floating out in the water face up, appearing either asleep, or dead. At least he was relaxed, at least he wasn’t worrying too much about everything that was going on, that was the last thing Medic needed.

Still, Spy did worry, or rather he felt guilty for not knowing for certain how he really was. He was supposed to know, he was supposed to be the one helping him, and he hadn’t been, not really, too focused on himself to pay proper attention to him. It made sense that his own problems would worry Medic, after all, Medic’s problems worried him, he’d just been really, really hoping that Medic would trust him to handle his own problems and not worry.

What a stupid thought that had been.

“Tell me, Sniper… how is he?” Spy asked quietly, hoping that all was well, hoping that when Sniper had said that he was ok, he meant physically as well. Sniper just sighed deeply, letting out a large amount of smoke as he did so, and he went to open his mouth, stopped, then swallowed whatever it was he was about to say, and sighed again. When Spy looked to him to figure out why he had done this, he saw Sniper was already looking at him, his expression showing the purest form of irritation to ever exist.

“Go ask ‘im yourself.” Sniper ordered bluntly, and somehow, Spy got the very distinct feeling he was in trouble not only with Sniper, but with Medic as well. “I plan to,” Spy clarified patiently, “however, I would like to go into this situation with some knowledge as to what I will be walking-”
“Nope, not gonna happen, go ask ‘im yourself.” Sniper interrupted curtly, causing Spy’s face to drop instantly into irritation. “That is your mate, that is your man, and that is not my responsibility. Ya wanna know how he’s doin’ so bad? Go man up, and ask ‘im yourself, you motherfuckin’ wuss.”

Well, this was it, he had officially reached the end of Sniper's patience. How he had managed to maintain it for as long as he had would forever be a mystery to him, but he was certainly grateful to have had it for as long as he had, but no more. This was on him now, him, and only him. He knew Sniper wasn’t going anywhere, and he knew that if push came to shove he could always go to him, but no longer would he maintain the balance between he and Medic.

Not that Medic had ever used him for that…

He could do this, he could be honest with him, he knew he could… he would.

“Well… wish me luck then…” Spy murmured as he inhaled more smoke, trying to clear his soul of all its insecurities, and failing miserably. “Mate, you’re gonna need it.” Sniper promised in a rather grave voice, offering him no comfort whatsoever, earning him an enormous eyeroll from Spy. Served him right, he supposed, served him right.

***

Was Medic afraid of floating away? Not really, the tides were calm and didn’t appear to be moving in or out, nor was there enough wind to push the current one way or another. Was he afraid of getting attacked by a shark? No, he was laying perfectly still in reasonably shallow water, not to mention there weren’t any other sea creatures around to attract one. Was he worried about getting water stuck in his ears? A little, but it was a risk he was willing to take.

Truthfully, Medic had no idea how long he’d been floating in the water, just knowing that the sun had set, and that it was getting darker by the moment. It felt like it had been only seconds, but he knew it had been much, much longer. Time had just lost its meaning, after all, what use had the ocean for time? Nothing existed, past, nor future, only now existed, and the present had nothing to offer other than the ocean.

He almost fell asleep.

However, very soon Medic began to realize that he was starting to get cold, for while the water was amazing, the air around him had turned cold against his wet body. He fought against it for a moment by completely submerging himself, releasing as much air as he could in order to stay underwater without fighting for it, and he stayed there, he stayed there for as long as he could.

Alas, moments are just that, moments.

Once the need for air outweighed the need to stay under, Medic went to stand, and found that he had to swim up instead, having actually floated further out than he originally thought. Fortunately the shore wasn’t too far away, so with some reluctance, he swam back and left the comfort of the water, instantly shocked as to how cold he became. He knew he should go to Sniper's van to warm up, he knew that he should go into town and find his team, he knew he shouldn’t stay… but damn it all he wanted to.

Therefore, he did.

The waves were much louder now, the tide having started to come in at some point, the stars above shining through the dark blue, nearly black sky, a crescent moon watching over the ocean and island with great care. As for Medic, well, he simply lay down in the soft sand, and admired the moon and stars, blurry as they were, the exhaustion from the water making him feel so incredibly heavy. Yes, he was cold, but the longer he lay still, the less he seemed to notice it.

Instead, his mind began to awake, and despite himself, despite all the years they’d been gone, despite how much he’d grown, despite all the life he’d lived without them…

He began to miss his family, and grow lonely, the ocean no longer quite enough company.

He began to miss Spy as well… actually, he’d been missing him for days now…

***

The breeze was all but dead now, probably for the best, and Sniper had long since retreated to his van, leaving Spy alone on the dunes, struggling to find a way to justify himself, to justify his distance, to justify who he was.

He found none.

Honest, he had to be honest, he had to tell the truth, he had to stop hiding… but how?

He didn’t want to, dear God in heaven he hated the idea of being honest. This was different from his confession, this was so very different, yet it was identical. There would be vulnerability, there would be truth, there would be a chance he would see who he really was, and never want to see him again. It would be real, he would be real.

Wasn’t that a good thing though? Wasn’t it better to live an unbearable truth than a comfortable lie? Where on earth was the logic in that? There was none, after all, the heart does not follow logic.

Spy wished he could do away with his heart, he wished that he could simply find a way to live without these needs, feelings, and emotions, he wished he could just be above it all… but that would make him above his friends, wouldn’t it? Above Medic.

That he couldn’t live with, not anymore, not with all he had done, with all he had strived to become.

Damn it all, what was wrong with him?

***

At least nothing hurt, that much brought comfort to Medic, at least he was able to be still and not feel anything. Deep down though, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d feel it all again tomorrow, if just by being in the water, he’d somehow compromised himself. Maybe that’s why he felt so tired, maybe it wasn’t natural, but unnatural.

Why should that be the case though? Water wore the body out, he knew this, this had been a truth for as long as he could remember, why then should he somehow be unwell due to simply laying in water? It made no sense, but then again, whatever was wrong with him hardly made sense. It had to be psychological, whatever it was, it had to all be in his head… surely.

Why would it be though? He knew he’d felt pain, he knew he’d been tired, he knew that what he felt had been real, so why now should it all be in his head? No, no there wasn’t anything wrong with him, not now anyway, he was fine, it was just the water, nothing more, just the water…

Just the water.

He sighed quietly to himself, watching the stars, now definitely wishing he wasn’t alone, but just unable to find the strength, or more accurately, will, to get up. There just wasn’t a good enough reason to, so why bother moving? Why risk making himself hurt?

He was starting to feel cold again, and he knew the logical thing to do would be to grab his medical coat… but he just didn’t have the will to move.

***

Spy, after the most useless, pointless, stupid self argument of his entire life, finally stood on the beach, simply watching Medic as he continued to stare up at the stars. He couldn’t tell if he was asleep or awake, but he knew he looked cold, and that was enough incentive for him to approach and make himself known. At first, he’d nearly just walked up and greeted him, only to remember that doing that would probably just scare the living daylight out of him, again. At least he wasn’t the only one to scare Medic when he was caught unawares, that made him feel much, much better about himself.

He wondered if Medic knew he was there, he wondered if he was waiting for him to approach, if he was waiting for him to break the silence between them. Honestly, probably not, Medic probably had no idea he was there, not that that was his fault, he just appeared deep in thought.

Ever more reason to join him, lest his thoughts be foul, lest he be trapping himself in the past… again.

Spy needed him, he knew it, and surely, Medic needed him too, so why on earth was he being such a coward? He’d done this before, he’d danced this dance before, why did it feel like he was starting from scratch?

Because this time, he had everything to lose, for their relationship was no longer a hypothetical reality.

***

Before his mind could do any more harm, before he could spiral further into the labyrinth of his own mind, the sound of footsteps on the sand behind him caught his attention, and when he looked, he could make out just enough of the figure to know it was Spy.

“Mind if I join you, mon amour?” Spy asked sweetly, though the rest of his face was far too blurry to make out, so he just assumed he was smiling. “Of course.” Medic replied with an equally kind smile, watching as a bit of light emanated from what he presumed was a cigarette, only to be gone just as quickly as Spy flicked away the finished butt. “Merci… you know, I was a bit worried I might accidently spook you, you know, just by walking up to you.”

Medic just gave his own irked sigh, not to Spy, or for any reason really, more at his own tendencies to be easily startled for whatever reason.“For the record," he said pointedly as Spy sat down next to him, “I have always been like that. It’s not new, it isn’t something I developed while fighting, it has nothing to do with those old bastards, it is just who I am.”
“I know.” Spy replied with an amused smile, one that Medic could just barely see, but he knew it was there.

Medic just rolled his eyes in response, before going quiet again, feeling much, much better now that Spy was with him. The world just felt like a much safer place when he was nearby, as if somehow he and he alone could keep him safe. It was a ridiculous thought of course, but it felt true enough. He just hoped that he held some similar value to Spy, and that the man wasn’t starting to grow weary of him.

Somehow, that seemed like a far less ridiculous thought.

***

Being with Medic, being alone with his lover, knowing that they had time with each other without anyone else around, it was an oddly freeing realization, terrifying, yet freeing all the same. Spy wondered how long the silence would last, he wondered as to whether or not he should be the one to broach their unspoken problems, or if he should wait for Medic to bring it up, if he did at all. That would be selfish of course, but then again… no, no he had to change, he had to.

So, he would.

***

It felt nice, just them, just the ocean, just the stars, a bit daunting, a bit scary, but still nice. How ridiculous it was to think that Spy would grow weary of him, how utterly ridiculous, why else would he be here, why else would he sound so kind, why else would he call him, ‘my love’? Everything was fine, they were fine, he was wanted, he was loved, and that was all that mattered. Yes, yes he wanted honesty, yes he wanted a deeper relationship, but if honesty meant losing this, was it really worth it?

No, he would not have a relationship surrounded by secrets, he refused.

***

What kind of man was he if he didn’t own his faults? He’d be repeating history, he’d be losing himself, he’d be hurting Medic… lying to Medic.

***

Did it matter if he lost Spy to honesty? Yes… No… He didn’t want to lose him, he didn’t want to be alone again… but damn it all, he didn’t want to betray himself…

***

He needed to be a better person.

***

He needed to be honest.

***

And so…

***

And so…

***

“I… I would like to apologize… for how I acted towards you earlier today… you didn’t deserve that…” Spy managed to say with barely hidden hesitancy, his chest feeling tight, his face feeling hot. This felt wrong, this felt exposing, this felt like he was making a mistake, even though he knew this was the right thing to do. Thankfully, somewhere deep inside him, the smallest weight seemed to lift, and while his fear continued to engulf him, his guilt eased tremendously. Good, he was doing something right, he had to be.

At first, Medic didn’t know what to say, simply in shock that Spy had brought up that unspoken air between them. That, and he was surprised he’d received an apology, and not a half baked explanation as to why Spy had acted the way he’d acted. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t grateful, he was, he was also very relieved that Spy was putting effort into their relationship when it came to these more difficult conversations. However, he wanted to know why Spy had acted the way he had, he wanted to know why he’d been acting so strange since the start of their little adventure, and he knew pushing him could prove too much… but he had to know.

The silence between them was now officially starting to put Spy on edge, the feeling of tension causing a cold sweat to break out on the back of his neck. Medic was supposed to have forgiven him by now, he was supposed to have thanked him, made some small talk on his behavior, then move on with the night. Why wasn’t that happening? Because Medic wasn’t shallow, and Spy had crossed one too many lines, and he knew it.

Pushing Spy would probably be a mistake, it would probably be a terrible, terrible mistake, one which would see him alone… again… No, that wasn’t true, Spy loved him, he wasn’t going anywhere, it was all in his head… all in his head…

“Danke… Danke, I… I appreciate that… and I do forgive you.” Medic assured genuinely, bringing much needed relief to Spy, however, something about his tone indicated that there would be a ‘but’ in the next part of the sentence. He just sounded too hesitant, too worried, adopting the tone he used whenever he wanted to assure Spy that he was ok, when he really wasn’t.

“However…”

Right on cue.

“Spy… What really happened today? Why… What happened with you and Albert?” Medic managed to get out, his heart beating out of his chest with every word he spoke. This could cost him everything, this could cost him this new chance at life, every other time he’d pushed Spy for the truth it had gone nowhere, why should now be different? Why risk everything for a simple explanation? Did it matter? Did it really matter if they were honest? This was a mistake, he needed to back out before he lost everything, this had been a terrible, terrible mistake.

“Nothing happened,” Spy lied with confidence, keeping his eyes focused on the ocean, “like Albert said, we ran into some trouble with the mafia, though I personally believe that he has more personal connections with them than…” Spy then looked at Medic, a mistake if he wanted to continue his lie, for he saw that he was breaking his lover's heart.

Though the near pitch black made it difficult to see Medic’s face clearly, he could see that he was no longer looking towards the sky, but away from it… away from him… He no longer looked relaxed, but drawn into himself, away from Spy, as if waiting for something to happen.

Honest… he had to be honest… Starting…

“Alright, we… we may have had a slight… um… altercation.” Instantly Medic snapped his head back towards Spy, only to see that he was no longer looking at the ocean, but away from it, away from him. Gone was the air of confidence that always surrounded him, gone was any sign that he was calm, now replaced with what Medic could only describe as fear… maybe even guilt. He didn’t want him to be uncomfortable, truly he didn’t, but he didn’t know what else to do.

This was happening, this was a conversation they were having, Spy finally told him the truth… he shouldn’t press any further, this was good, this was progress, this was a step in the right direction… This was too fragile a situation to press on…

Why on earth was Medic so quiet? Why wasn’t he saying anything? He was horrified, he was disgusted, he was disappointed, he was seeing him for what he was… a snake.

“Why… Why did you fight?” There was no judgment in Medic’s voice, no hate, no horror, merely worried confusion. That was… better than what it could have been. Ok, this was happening… he was telling him about what he did… Dear God this was a mistake.

“I…” and that was all Spy said before going quiet, the ocean now filling the silence between them. A part of Medic wanted to stop, to be grateful he had some parcel of truth and be done with it before he pushed Spy too far, to stop while things were still good between them, to thank Spy for his honesty and move on with the night… However, that part had suddenly shrunk quite a bit, being swiftly replaced with a rather fierce bit of determination to get to the bottom of what had happened. This would not ruin them, this would not break them apart… that was true… it had to be…

Spy listened as Medic took a quick, shallow breath, before he heard him sit up next to him, clearly focusing his full attention on him. “Spy,” Medic pressed carefully, “why did the two of you fight? What… What on earth could have possibly caused the two of you to try and kill each other?”
“We did not try to kill each other!” Spy quickly protested, instantly turning to face Medic, who appeared worried, yet steadfast, “Yes, I will admit that things got out of hand, but we weren’t trying to kill each other!”
“A cut on Albert's neck and the bullet that was in your arm beg to differ.”

He hated to admit it, but watching Spy struggle to argue against that final point brought quite a bit of satisfaction to Medic. That did not mean he took any satisfaction from the very clear discomfort his lover was experiencing, but he did like that he was starting to, at the very least, force him to face the reality that his lies were noticed.

Stupid, it was stupid to lie, especially when Medic had treated them both, why had he been so stupid? He hated how Medic looked at him, waiting for an explanation, waiting for a real answer, waiting for the truth, why couldn’t he just accept that this was as far as he was willing to go? This was for the best, these secrets were for the best, for the both of them, for their love, why couldn’t he understand that? Why couldn’t he see that he was trying to protect their relationship?

He never should have said anything, he should have just lied… When had it become so hard to lie?

“Medic, I assure you there is nothing to worry about, ok?” Spy declared with what Medic considered to be a completely out of place impatience, “Yes, we had a fight, but our issues are resolved, and there is peace between us. I see no reason to continue discussing this matter, seeing as it no longer matters.”
“I didn’t ask about the end results of the fight,” Medic clarified, his own irritation starting to show despite himself, “I asked what caused it.”
“And I am telling you, it doesn’t matter, why can’t you accept that?”

Medic then let out a frustrated breath as he looked away from Spy, not that Spy was complaining, hopefully that meant he’d stop pushing the matter, but he seriously doubted it. “Do you trust me?” Medic then asked, very quickly turning to face him once again, his sapphire eyes shining with anger and hurt, his voice barely holding back his emotions. “Of course I do, what kind of question is that?” Spy snapped back, feeling like he meant it, thinking he meant it, but not truly knowing if he did.

“I don’t feel like you do, I-I feel like nothing you have done has shown any trust in me at all!” Medic exclaimed furiously, struggling to keep his voice from trembling, hating how his throat tightened with every passing moment. It wasn’t often he got angry, truly angry that is, but when he did he found that for some stupid, inexplicable reason, he would often start to cry. The last time he’d been this angry had actually been with Spy, back when he’d finally approached him after days of silence following his rescue, but back then it had been easy to justify his tears with everything that was going on between them. He hated it, he hated it with such a passion, and over the years he had learned to get better control of it, but he still felt those high emotions within him, stupid as they were.

Well, maybe not stupid, but stupid that they always came when he wanted to show he was serious about something.

“Every time I ask for an explanation, every time I ask why you are upset, I am met with your silence, or a curt remark telling me to mind my own business!” Medic declared furiously, rightfully so Spy supposed, “I am sick of it! I am sick of always being pushed away, and I am sick of your lack of trust in me! Why don’t you trust me!”
“I do trust you!” Spy cried out desperately, “Medic, I trust you with my life, just because I am more reserved doesn’t mean I don’t trust you, it-it just means that I am more reserved with some of my more complicated issues!”

“Really?” Medic asked, struggling to see Spy, struggling to maintain his calm. “Really.” Spy promised, perfectly convincing to someone who didn’t know the man, but alas, Medic knew him. “Alright, if you are so terribly reserved, why is that you talk so much with Sniper? I know you do, the two of you have gone off together to speak privately lots of times, and yet you refuse to speak with me. I thought you were reserved.”

“That has nothing to do with my trust in you,” Spy clarified quickly, perfectly understanding his point, and respecting it, but needing him to know that there were reasons why he spoke with Sniper, and not him, “Sniper and I have a relationship that is… incredibly complex, with years of history, history I simply do not have with you yet. That is not to say I don’t trust you, but if things between us-”

Instantly Spy cut himself off while turning away, covering his own mouth with horror, having very nearly revealed the real reason he was so open with Sniper. That scared him, that scared him badly, he hadn’t slipped like that in a long time, why now was he slipping? That didn’t matter right now, what mattered was that he had just cut himself off mid sentence, and Medic was going to notice, say something, then push them deeper into this pit of uncertainty. Perfect.

Medic waited, and he waited very patiently for Spy to continue with whatever it was he was going to say. He had been honest in that moment, Spy had been well and truly honest, but he’d stopped. That was ok, clearly this was a lot for him, and he needed to be patient. It also gave him an opportunity to calm himself, and recenter his breathing and thoughts, which were both starting to get far too fast for his liking.

They both waited for what felt like an eternity, neither man saying a word.

Until one of them couldn’t take it anymore.

“‘If things between us’... what?” Medic asked very, very carefully, something which Spy was incredibly grateful for, though that did not mean it was liked. If only he could take it back, if only he hadn’t said anything in the first place, if only he’d just lied, why on earth hadn’t he just lied? When did he get the right to be a hero, to suddenly decide that he was going to be honest, to suddenly decide he would change the very core of his being, what on earth had possessed him into thinking he could ever be a good man?

No… No he wasn’t implying that, Spy would never imply that… That wasn’t true, they would be fine, yes it was hard, yes it was complicated, yes there were challenges, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t work through them, that didn’t mean he would give up… Spy couldn’t mean that… he just couldn’t… Not after everything, not now, not when they finally had each other… Not when Medic finally had him… No…

“Spy, I… Where are meine glasses, I need meine glasses.” Medic suddenly stated as he began to look around him frantically, though in the near pitch black it was clear he was all but completely blind. As Medic felt around desperately, his breathing growing faster with every moment, Spy also began to look, and found the small pile that contained some of his clothes. After moving towards it and searching for a moment, he found Medic’s glasses safely contained within a pocket on his medical coat. Once he made sure they were clean, using the sleeve of his jacket to do so, he moved back next to Medic’s side, offering them to him without a word.

Everything was too uncertain, everything was too blurry, he needed to see Spy, he needed to be able to look into his eyes and see him, he needed to see what he was really feeling, what he was really thinking. He was losing him, he was drifting away from him, he’d pushed too far and this was the price he was going to pay. He’d just wanted what they had to be real, he’d just wanted to be open, he just wanted to make sure that-

“Ahem.” Instantly Medic looked back at Spy, and saw that he was holding something out towards him, but what it was… Oh… Those were his glasses, weren’t they? He wondered if Spy was smiling, or if his face was that of irritation. He just wasn’t sure anymore. Either way, he had his glasses, meanwhile he was just staring at them like an idiot. At least Spy cared…

Carefully, he took his glasses from Spy, not wanting to get them smudged, and put them on, feeling an instant relief now that he could see. It didn’t matter that it was practically pitch black, his eyes had adjusted a long time ago, he just wanted to know what Spy was really feeling, after all, the man's voice often lied. To his great relief, he saw that Spy was looking at him with great kindness, as well as a healthy dose of worry, though that would make sense, wouldn’t it? He wasn’t smiling, but that was ok, he didn’t need to.

“Danke… Vielen dank.” Medic said quietly, everything about him seeming smaller, less certain than what he had been mere moments before. His eyes still shone, they still held their determination fiercely, but they also shone with tears, just barely visible, but still there. It tore Spy in two, truly it did, but just couldn’t bring himself to be honest.

Who cared if he’d lied to himself, who cared if he lied to Medic… His heart was going to explode.

“Erik, mon amour, listen to me.” Spy urged gently, reaching out and taking a hold of Medics hand, suddenly very afraid that he would lose him… that he would walk away from him… He didn’t want that, he didn’t want to lose him… He just… How the hell were they supposed to make this work? Men like him didn’t have this kind of relationship for a reason, men like him didn’t deserve this kind of love, men like him always hurt the people they got close to… How was he supposed to explain that…

Well… With the truth…

“I trust you, I do… I…” Spy’s grip suddenly got a bit tighter on Medic's hand, his gaze falling as what Medic could only perceive as terror flooded throughout him. He remembered the last time he’d looked like this, the last time he’d been so vulnerable… and all of his worries vanished. All that he needed to do now was be patient, and make sure that Spy knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Why on earth had he ever thought this man was going to leave him? How ridiculous he had been, to think he didn’t love him after everything, how utterly ridiculous.

A gentle hand carefully guided Spy’s gaze back up, back to Medic’s, where he saw nothing but patience, kindness, and love. He wondered if he would always look at him like that, he wondered if he would still look at him like that once he knew who he really was. He doubted it… but deep down, he realized that would be a more bearable pain than having to watch Medic’s heart break every time he lied to him.

“I trust you… I do, truly I do… and yet, at the same time… I am… learning to trust you…” Medic blinked, knowing he was being honest, knowing that this is what he’d been needing from his lover, but not understanding what he meant by it one bit. “You see… I…”

Tell him. He had to tell him… One step at a time… They needed this… This was good.

“Erik, Sniper and I… Our relationship isn’t built on trust… not really anyway, not when it comes to how open I am with him… I am as open with him about my secrets as I am because… because I know his secrets, and I know that if he reveals anything about me, that I can in turn destroy him… and that because he knows that I know his secrets, he will never reveal mine.

“It creates balance, it creates safety, it forces trust… It allows complete honesty between us without fear that we will betray each other, and makes it easy to talk to him.

“Please don’t mistake me, he’s my friend, I love and care for him deeply, and I appreciate everything that he has done for me, all his patience, his kindness, his bluntness, even his stupid comments and stupider idiocracies, but… but if I didn’t know what I knew about him, I wouldn’t trust him to hold my secrets, he would simply be a friend… I don’t think we’d even be as close as we are… I’m not even sure I’d know him…

“But with you… Erik, you have no secrets, you have done no great wrong, you… you’re so good, and kind, and patient, and compassionate… you’re beautiful… and I have to learn to trust you… and trust that you will not betray me… That I can have a relationship without holding such detrimental power, without having blackmail, or anything to keep you silent… Erik, mon amour, I need you to understand that… that placing such trust in you, is the most terrifying thing I will ever do.

“I love you, I love who you are, and I love that you want this… I do… but you have to understand that I have never had something like this before… That I have never been honest out of pure trust… Well, not recently… not in decades… It was different then, I was different, I was so… I wasn’t who I am now…

“I’m not a good person, Erik… I know you hold me at such a standard, I know you want to love me, and I know you want what we have to be open and honest, but I don’t think you would love me if you knew who I really am, if you knew all I had done, all I still do! I want to trust you, I want to get better, I want to be better… I just don’t think I can…”

It didn’t feel relieving to admit to his faults, to admit to why he trusted Sniper, to admit his fears, doubts, and shame. It felt terrifying, it felt like he was crossing a line, it felt like he was killing himself. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t hear, everything was dark, and he was drowning.

That… That wasn’t… Spy had… Oh God…

Of the many things Medic had expected Spy to say, of the many explanations he had thought he was going to give, none of them had included a miniature cold war between him and Sniper, that somehow led to one of the deepest friendships he knew of. It made sense, in a weird sort of way, it just hadn’t been what he’d been expecting. He really had fallen for a spy, hadn’t he? He was trying to make a true and loving relationship with a man who found comfort in the fact that he could destroy others in order to keep himself safe.

That was ok, that was fine, a bit daunting, but it would be ok, complicated, yes, but ok.

They could do this, they’d made it this far after all, they could keep going. They would keep going.

“Spy?” Medic asked quietly, causing him to blink as the sound of the ocean, the feeling of Medic's hand under his, and the sight of his lover's kindness came back to him all at once. Spy found himself taking in a deep breath, having forgotten to breathe at some point, feeling his heartbeat instantly as he did so, loud and hard against his chest. Good, that meant he was alive, it meant that Medic was still there…

Thank God, Medic was still there.

“Sorry… I think I blacked out for a moment.” Spy admitted with a humorless laugh, clearly still reeling from everything he’d just said. “That’s alright,” Medic assured, moving a bit closer to Spy as he did so, “what you said was… a lot. I can imagine it was a lot for you too.” Spy said nothing in response, instead just laughing again as he moved his hand to his head, but it didn’t really sound like a laugh.

What a fool he was, what an arrogant, prideful, selfish fool.

“Spy?” Medic asked again, watching as Spy once again met his gaze, his eyes shining in the dark, those wonderful, beautiful, powerful ice blue eyes. Once he knew he had Spy’s attention, Medic took a deep breath of his own, and prepared to take another step forward, hoping, praying he wasn’t about to make a serious error in judgement. They’d come so far already, everything that had been said between them had been good, so… why not go a bit further?

“Danke, for being honest, for… for trusting me with this.” Medic said in such a quiet, gentle voice, one that Spy knew held more beneath it. That was fine, they’d come this far, why not go further. Why not change? “I knew… I knew this wouldn’t be easy, for either of us, and I knew that expecting you to be open would be… What I mean is, I knew that there would be secrets when I fell in love with you, and that expecting you to be honest would be… Gott… um… unrealistic. I just… well I didn’t expect it to be quite like this…”

“I feel the same,” Spy admitted quietly, surprisingly glad to be saying it out loud, “it’s been… it’s been decades since I’ve been in a real relationship, and it appears I’ve forgotten how difficult they can be to navigate.”
“It’s not so different from a friendship,” Medic stated confidently, “it’s just… well, maybe it is, but not really… Ok, maybe it’s completely different.”
“Mmm… maybe.”

There was silence again, once again the ocean filling in their conversation as both men struggled to find the words they wanted. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long, this time anyway.

“Spy… why didn’t you tell me that sooner?” Medic asked hesitantly, knowing full well he was probably making a mistake. The silence proved it, as well as Spy’s averted gaze as he stared out into the ocean, or maybe he was once again readying himself, it was hard to tell. “Please don’t think I’m ungrateful for what you have said,” Medic quickly continued, “I am, and I am glad you trust me with this… but… Why didn’t you just say you didn’t feel comfortable telling me the truth?”

“Forgive my ignorance, but I truly do fail to see how me telling you that I don’t trust you would be in any way a good thing.” Spy stated while turning to face Medic, meaning every word, and just feeling just slightly irked. “Because I would rather have heard that than your lies.” Medic explained patiently, instantly causing Spy’s heart to hurt and twist within him. Medic was going to start pushing for the reason behind he and Albert's fight again, wasn’t he?

“I would have taken that over you pushing me away, or you simply telling me everything is fine when it clearly isn’t, it… it hurts to hear you lie, it hurts meine heart. I’m not saying you needed to tell me everything you just did, clearly that would have been too much, and I respect that, but you could have at least told me you were still learning to trust me, I would have accepted that. I would have accepted you telling me you weren’t comfortable yet, I would have accepted you telling me you were afraid… I would take that over your lies every day…”

“Oh please, as if you don’t lie as well.” Spy muttered harshly as he looked away again, refusing to listen to his lover's hypocrisy, intentional or not. What right did he have to call him out for lying? What right did he have to claim that such actions hurt his heart, when he couldn’t even admit to his own health? Spy’s lies served purpose, there was a reason behind them, there was thought, he didn’t even know why Medic lied… Though, he was certain there was probably a reason.

At first, Medic was a bit taken aback by Spy’s tone and comment, almost hurt by it as well, before simply realizing that Spy was telling the truth, just like he’d been asking. He was guilty of everything Spy was guilty of, wasn’t he? It just hadn’t felt like it had been that big of a deal, after all, it was his personal health… just like Spy had been lying about his personal affairs… Therefore, with a heavy sigh, he looked back out to the ocean, before quietly admitting, “You’re right… I haven’t been much better, have I? I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to be honest when I don’t hold that standard to myself… Mir lied…”

Well… That was… Spy wasn’t sure what to think. He wasn't quite sure what he’d meant to do when he’d made that comment, he’d just said it… He hadn’t quite realized how nice it would be to have Medic admit that he hadn’t been honest about himself, not that he took satisfaction in it, he didn’t, it just felt… relieving. Finally, Medic was admitting that he wasn’t ok, perhaps to himself as well, perhaps that was why he’d been lying…he hoped that didn’t scare him.

“I just… I didn’t want to worry you, I thought that because there wasn’t anything I could do, that there wasn’t anything anyone could do, that I should just hide it, after all, why make you worry? I suppose… I suppose I was just hoping that if… that if I said it enough, that if I kept saying I was ok… that somehow, I would be, that it would turn out it was all in meine head, and that… Ach, I was just being an idiot… Of course you’d worry no matter what, of course you would see through meine lies, you’re you… and… I’m sorry I lied for so long… I… Es tut mir so leid…”

Spy had turned back to face Medic about midway through his apology, his entire body softening as he took in what was being said, especially how it was being said. Yes, Medic did sound sorry, not that that was even a question in Spy’s mind, but he also sounded scared, just as Spy had feared he would. It was just as he had suspected, Medic had been lying to himself as well.

He wasn’t ok, he hadn’t been ok, everything had been hurting, and there wasn’t a solution in sight. The worst part? Everyone had known, everyone had accepted it, no one had questioned him. That should be a good thing, right? That should mean that they trusted him to take care of himself, to tell them when something was really wrong, right?

Right?

“So… How have you been feeling then?” Spy asked, realizing that the longer there was silence, the more lost his lover would become. Truthfully, he didn’t really know how to keep the conversation going, nor was he sure as to how he should address a truth that was meant to have been a secret, but was really clear as day. That… that was probably how Medic felt about all of his secrets, wasn’t it? Every time he’d said nothing was wrong, every time Medic had pushed for an answer, it was because he knew something was deeply, truly wrong… well, that’s why they were having this conversation, wasn’t it? To clear all of that up… to clear some of it up…

One step at a time, they’d come this far, they could keep going…

Medic didn’t want to be honest, he really, really, really didn’t want to be honest. He didn’t want Spy worrying, he didn’t want to make him feel bad for not noticing his previous pain, he didn’t want Spy to secretly inform the rest of the team so they would all keep an eye on him… Who was he kidding, Demo had probably already done that, hadn’t he? They probably all already knew that he’d been lying about his health… he really was bad with a bluff, wasn’t he?

“I’m… I’m better now, I swear I am,” Medic promised, and really, Spy believed him, “it… just took me a while to get here…” The hesitancy had once again returned to his voice clear as day, but he heard shame as well, which hurt Spy’s heart beyond words. “Ever since… you know… Ever since then, I haven’t felt right… but I don’t know what’s wrong. Sometimes it makes sense, the pain, if I’m too active, if I do something strenuous, if I’ve had a long day, then I will feel it, but that makes sense, especially if I’m healing… you're not supposed to use something that’s still broken…

“But… I feel it when I’m stressed too… or if I’m scared… or sometimes, for no reason at all… That’s what doesn’t make sense to me, why meine mind is affecting meine body, why meine emotions dictate if I feel hurt or not… I…” Medic swallowed, swallowed his fear, swallowed his hurt, swallowed his shame, then admitted his greatest fear. “I am beginning to think that… that going through respawn that much… being broken that many times… I’m starting to think it did something permanent…”

Tears were falling now, Spy could see them quite clearly against his face, that, and his fear. That had been the difference between them, hadn’t it? He hated how terrified he looked, he hated how uncertain he’d become, he hated how that fierce determination that had once shown so brightly in his eyes was now gone. That wasn’t right, Medic didn’t deserve that, he was too good to deserve such pain and fear… fear… he was probably hurting right now, wasn’t he?

Suddenly, before his mind could even start to spiral, before the aching in his flesh could grow any further, Spy embraced him, forcing him close, forcing his mind to stop before it could even begin. It startled Medic for a moment, before he grit his teeth as hard as he could to keep his sobs back, and held Spy back as hard as he could, hating how his breathing hitched, hating how he couldn’t hold back his tears any longer. This made things better though, this made things so, so much better.

“It’s ok, it’s going to be ok, I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Spy whispered as he ran his hand through Medics hair softly, feeling his lover shaking beneath his embrace as he tried so desperately to hold back his emotions. “It’s all going to be ok, just you wait, it’s all going to be ok. I know this is frightening, and I know you’re worried, but I swear everything is going to be ok, just you wait. It’s all going to be ok.”

Amazingly, up until that moment Medic hadn’t realized just how cold he’d been, his body quickly warming now that he was in the arms of his lover, his shaking intensifying for a moment, only to start to die away just as quickly. Along with this physical comfort, he found that his mind was starting to ease as well, slowly, yet surely. Yes, he’d been afraid for himself, he’d been afraid for his health, but having Spy hold him, feeling him, feeling his love and warmth, that gave him so much comfort and relief. It promised that everything would be ok, and that he wasn’t alone, that he was never going to be alone again.

Somehow, someway, Spy realized that up until this moment, he’d been missing Medic terribly. These moments of true understanding, these moments that only they knew of, this real, raw honesty, they hadn’t had this since Miss Pauling had given them this final mission. It was strange, but it was true, and he knew it. That didn’t matter anymore though, and with luck, with his own determination, it would never matter again. What a fool he’d been to avoid him, what a fool he had been to push him away, what an arrogant fool.

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the night as Medic’s fear ran its course through him, while Spy came to terms with his own insecurities. It was simple, it was wonderful, and it was human. It was theirs, all theirs.

“Tell me, doctor, how long does a broken bone take to heal?” Spy asked once he was certain Medic’s breathing was back to normal, his shaking all but gone. There was silence for a moment, before Medic answered quietly, “Well, it depends, usually about six to twelve weeks, depending on what’s broken, and how severe the break is. Why do you ask?”
“So it takes a long time then?” Spy queried as he continued to sooth Medics hair, feeling him adjust himself, pressing closer into him. “Jawol.”

“Tell me, how long has it been since they hurt you?” Spy asked gently, causing Medic to close his eyes tightly, not wanting to think about it, not wanting to remember it, not wanting to relive it. Still, he thought about how long it had been, and surprisingly, found it hadn’t been that long, even though it seemed like an eternity. “About two weeks now.” Medic answered quietly, truly surprised at how short a time it had really been.

“Really? Only that long?” Spy marveled, though he’d already known the answer, and was, as Charlotte would kindly put it, simply being a ham, “Tell me doctor, after everything that happened, and with what little time has passed, is it any wonder that you still feel pain?”
“But… but I was under the medi-gun,” Medic protested, “that should have healed me! I shouldn’t-”

“Yes, under normal circumstances,” Spy argued gently, continuing to sooth his lover, “but what happened to you wasn’t normal, therefore you shouldn’t hold any expectations as to how long it will take to heal. It will take time, mon amour, this isn’t just your flesh, but your soul. Souls get hurt to you know, heartbreak, grief, loss, and in this case, death a thousand fold. It’s not normal, so please, stop worrying about something none of us can control. You will heal in all due time, and I’m fairly certain all this stress isn't good for your health.”

Medic just sighed in defeat, knowing he was right, not believing him, and still worrying all at the same time. Still, he did understand what Spy was saying, and he did acknowledge the truth that it hadn’t been long enough to really tell when he was going to get better. It just worried him that he hadn’t noticed any improvements, and when he did they were gone just as quickly, it just didn’t make sense… well, maybe it did, but… Damn it all…

“Erik, mon amour, listen to me,” Spy pleaded, pulling just far enough away to look his lover in the eyes, “everything will be fine, we just need to give it time. Once this mission is over, once everything has calmed down, I’m certain you’ll start feeling better in no time, but in the meantime, try not to stress about it, and if you feel poorly, say something, I don’t want you hurting yourself over your pride.”

It wasn’t pride, it was… ok, maybe it was pride…

“I think it’s more denial than pride.” Medic argued with a small smile, to which Spy merely scoffed and pulled him close again, chuckling to himself quietly as he did so. “Whatever the reason, there’s no reason to harm yourself over it… none of us will think any less of you for it, nor will we treat you any less.”
“I just don’t want to be a burden…”

Spy sighed quietly, before placing a long, tender kiss upon his lover's head, tightening his hold on him as he did so, needing him to know he was loved, needing him to know he was wanted. He knew it had taken a lot of courage to say that, he knew that he was letting a part of himself be known that Spy hadn’t seen yet, and he knew he had to be careful with what he said next. It just hurt him so badly to hear him say that, to believe that any of them would ever think so little of him, and he wished he could take that from him.

“You’re not, nor will you ever be.” Spy swore solemnly, and Medic believed him, he truly believed him. Everything was going to be ok, they were going to be ok. He was going to be ok. He had no idea just how badly he’d needed to hear that from someone else, but hearing the logic, hearing Spy’s assurance, feeling his warmth, his kindness, his gentleness, it all promised that he would be ok, and he needed that.

Dear God, he’d needed that so badly.

“Danke… danke…” Medic whispered into Spy, to which Spy simply kissed him again, once again soothing his hair quietly. Finally, it felt like there was peace between them, no more hidden fears, no more uncertainties, no more frustrations, and it was so incredibly freeing. The silence once again returned, well, the ocean did anyway, and with it a sense of new belonging and calm… at least for Medic, for Spy, one last battle waged within him.

After all, he hadn’t answered Medic’s original question yet.

It seemed that the question had been long since forgotten, and that Medic was perfectly content to let it go and move on with the night, his steady, deep breathing indicating that he was very near sleep, which would make sense. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time, and right now it seemed like a good place to end the conversation, to move on with the night, to start this dance again another time… and yet…

Spy wasn’t sure he believed in God, sometimes he did, sometimes he didn’t, on rare nights he found himself whispering to a being that didn’t make any sense at all, most nights he figured out what to do with his own mind. He knew Medic prayed, he knew Medic held faith, not that it seemed to get him anywhere, yet still, the man didn’t seem to waver in his belief that there was a higher power, and that He called Himself I Am. Quite frankly it all seemed a bit ridiculous to Spy, after all what kind of self proclaimed benevolent God would ever let half the horrors in the word exist?

… and yet…

Looking to the sky and seeing stars he had never seen before, looking to the sky and seeing the vastness of the night, feeling his lover beneath him, safe, alive, healing, knowing that he had something that he most certainly didn’t deserve, well, it was just enough to make him wonder. The stars made him feel small, so did the ocean, so did the weight in his heart… strange…

It looked like it was going to be one of those rare nights…

His prayer was simple, quiet, and within his own mind, so that only he, and God could hear it, if He was even there at all.

He prayed for courage.

“I never answered your original question.” Spy stated in an oddly scared voice, one which instantly grabbed Medic's attention, drawing him back from the brink of peace. Carefully, not wanting Spy to get the wrong idea, Medic pulled away from him, just so that he could look him in the eyes, wanting him to know he was listening, wanting him to know he was taking this seriously. Yes, it was cold outside his embrace, a bit uncomfortable too, but he would just have to live with it, Spy needed him.

He’d thought they were done, he’d thought that they would simply drift away and touch on the subject another night… he was glad they weren’t. He was glad Spy knew what this meant to him.

“First of all… um…” Oh God, oh God what was he doing? Oh God this was a mistake, he needed to stop, he needed to stop right now.

One step at a time.

“What happened between me and Albert, it wasn’t Albert's fault… at all…”

Technically it was, but he was NOT getting into that tonight.

“When… When we first met, there was something about him that struck me as… off… but I couldn’t place what exactly it was, I just knew I didn’t like him, and that I felt like he was hiding something. He just carried this air about him, he still does, that air of arrogance, of intelligence, dare I say immaturity, all contradictory things that he seemed to fully embody, and flaunt. That worried me, and it… irked me, but that’s neither here nor there.

“As you know, he invited me to talk privately this morning about the finer details of the mission, so I… in all my infinite wisdom, I decided that during our talk, it would be a good idea to get to the bottom of why I didn’t like him… and try and figure out what he was hiding…”

That wasn’t all of it…

“That… and his arrogance was annoying the fuck out of me and I wanted to knock him down a peg.”

There, that was all of it.

“Anyway, our meeting started off fine, I simply informed him of everything that had happened, was happening, and what may happen, the usual, we made some small talk… Well, it was a little deeper than that, but… oh it doesn’t matter… Then the conversation turned to Scout. It started normal enough, but that man… just irks me… he… I don’t like it when other people seem to be smarter than me, I especially don’t like it when they know they’re smart, and have no problem showing it off, it's just… I hate it, it puts me on edge, and… I don’t like it when I’m not the smartest man in the room, so… I figured I’d strike two birds with one stone and see if I could reveal what exactly made me so uncomfortable, aside from the obvious, while making sure he knew I would not tolerate his arrogance…

“I did this by… uh…”

Oh God, this really did sound bad when he said it out loud, didn’t it?

“I did this by insulting Scout… and implying they weren’t, um, ‘real’ brothers… and I got what I wanted… and what I deserved… It turned out that Albert harbored very similar feelings towards me, and my, how do I put this… idiocracies… arrogance… but he was simply more of a gentleman about it…”

A half truth, but he simply could not get into the real reason… not yet… not… ever…

One day.

“That’s when we started to fight, and… um… it nearly ended badly… we uh… barely resolved it… I’m not… I’d rather not get into that part of it…”

As he’d spoken, as he’d let his truth be known, Spy had done his very best to keep eye contact with Medic, faltering sometimes, but always coming back. That was greatly appreciated by Medic, who was currently trying to wrap his head around this rather odd situation he found himself in. On the one hand, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Spy had just told him the truth, having walked through what was undoubtedly a nightmare for him, but on the other hand, if felt like there were pieces missing.

That was ok, he’d left them out for a reason, clearly this had been a huge deal for both Spy and Albert, and he’d already said he didn’t feel comfortable getting into all of it. Maybe that would be for another day, one in the far future, but for now, this was good enough. In fact, this was the best thing Medic could have hoped for… Well, obviously he wasn’t pleased to hear about his lover's need to instigate a fight to try and prove himself the better man for mere pettiness, but he was pleased with his honesty in regards to what he had done.

He knew Spy was egotistical, he knew that the man was prideful, arrogant, even selfish, but that wasn’t the core of who he was. Yes, they were deeply imbedded traits, and they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, but if that was all he was, then they wouldn’t be having this conversation. Maybe that’s all he’d been once, but not any more, not really, and even if that was who he still was, he was clear he didn’t want to stay that way, and that was enough.

That was why it didn’t surprise him to hear he had done these things for the reasons he had, he was still changing, he was still evolving, still trying to break through a lifetime of defenses, masks, and fear, he just… Really? They’d almost killed each other because of… Really??? There was clearly something a bit deeper that had pushed them both over the edge, but still, Spy had chosen to instigate, and in such a petty, childish way, could anyone really blame Medic for being disappointed in his lover? He just… Really?

The way Medic was currently looking at him didn’t show any signs of horror, nor any signs of fear or disgust, just… disappointment. That hurt… a lot… yet somehow, he also felt as though his lover looked at him with gratitude, even respect. Ok, that was good, right? That had to be, it could’ve gone a million worse ways, this was good… he was about to get a lecture, wasn’t he?

“Spy, meine Engel…” Medic said after what Spy perceived to be an eternity, “I… I…” Medic then paused, and took Spy’s hand in both of his, clearly knowing how he felt, but not quite sure as to how to say it. That was fine, Spy wasn’t quite sure what to say either. “Vielen dank… Above all else, Vielen dank, for telling me the truth, and… Danke for telling me at all, and not… and not just letting it slip away… Vielen dank.”
“I will admit, the thought did occur to me.” Spy stated with a nervous laugh, and much to his own surprise, this earned him a loving, tender kiss upon his lips, one which lasted only seconds, and was gone before he could truly let it sink in.

“I know.” Medic whispered with appreciation, feeling his face flush as Spy blinked a few times, glad to have finally made him starstruck. He wondered if he was blushing, but it was just too dark to tell. Still, it seemed like he was, based on how wide his eyes had become.

Spy was very grateful for the dark at that moment, very grateful indeed.

“Danke, dass du mir vertraust, mein Engel.”
“Merci, de votre patience.”

Neither man quite knew what the other said, yet at the same time, they knew exactly what the other was saying.

Spy then gave a quiet sigh, before laying back against the sand and closing his eyes, finding that he had grown tired of sitting, actually, he found he was just tired. In the end, this had gone the way he’d originally wanted it to, at long last he’d won the battle against his mind, which meant he was one step closer to winning the war. “Oh merde.” he whispered while running a hand over his face, feeling relieved, guilty, light, heavy, scared, and bold all at once, the need to smoke rising within him with every passing moment.

“I know.” Medic assured as he lay down beside him, staring up into the vast night in wonder, not having realized what he’d been missing out when he’d chosen to look up at it earlier without his glasses on. It was beautiful, and normally he’d be lost in it within seconds, but his mind was just too busy for such pleasantries, far too busy with wrapping itself around reality. He loved Spy, he knew he did, and he would continue to love him, but up until that moment he hadn’t really understood the gravity of what that meant. That didn’t mean he was afraid of the future, it just meant it felt a bit more daunting.

“We’re in over our heads, aren’t we?” Spy stated while staring at the stars and moon a strange sense of nervousness tugging at his soul as he searched for… something. “Ja… I think we are, just a little.” Medic agreed quietly, but he didn’t sound defeated, nor frightened, which was enough to give Spy some hope. “I don’t mean to be like this,” Spy continued, finding the words catching in his throat, “well, I do, but I don’t want to stay like this… I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know, I know… Spy, what you did this morning was so incredibly stupid, I just… it was so stupid.”
“I know, and I knew it then too… I did apologize to Albert.”
“Good, I was hoping you had… I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”
“He didn’t make it easy.”

Medic just scoffed quietly and rolled his eyes while shaking his head, bemused at the idea of both men giving the fakest apologies imaginable to each other for the sake of professionalism. All the same though, he knew that Spy probably meant some of it, if not all, and that was a nice thought.

Suddenly, and despite himself, Spy then began to laugh softly to himself, truly, genuinely laugh, and while still laughing he said out loud to no one in particular, “How on earth are we going to make this work?” Medic then also began to share in his uncertain laughter, thought it over carefully for a whole two seconds, then declared, “I have no idea… Meine Gott, I really fell for a spy. Oh, oh Gott, I really fell for you, didn’t I?”
“And I fell for you, and you deserve so much better than me. Oh, what a lovely mess we’ve gotten ourselves into, what a lovely mess… Oh, we’re going to break our hearts, aren’t we?”

“Nein, nein, we are not,” Medic promised, finally breaking through their nervous laughter, “we are going to make this work, we are going to love each other, probably be very upset with each other too, and we are going to hold on to each other until death do us part… If not, well then there will be a very good reason for it, and not something petty, nor shallow, nor something a simple, or complex conversation can’t fix. We’re going to make this work, and we’re both just going to have to work on ourselves, ja? We can do that, we can do anything! Look at everything we’ve done so far… we can do this…”

Spy just sighed wearily, very worried that he in fact couldn’t do it, and that he would never be able to win the war against his mind. No, no he’d come this far, he wasn’t the man he used to be, he was better than that low life scum, he’d grown so much, he’d changed, he had to have changed, and if not, well then damn it all he would. The man he had once been was dead, and if not, he was dying, if not that, then he’d kill him if he had to… he would.

For himself, for Medic, for them.

“Yes… yes we can… I swear, I will make this work, I swear… but please… don’t leave me when I falter… I know I will… please know I want to change…”
“I know, meine Engel, I know… Ich schwöre dir, ich werde dich nicht verlassen, wenn du verloren bist.”
“...Merci, mon amour… Merci.”

Chapter Text

“Dude, this is it. This is the best idea you’ve ever had.”
Why thank you, Scout.
“No, no dude I’m serious. This is the best thing you’ve ever come up with, like ever, and you’ve come up with a lotta good ideas.”
Oh it wasn’t that good, anyone could have thought of it.
“Yeah, maybe, but I can’t think of a lotta other people who would’ve had the balls to commit to it, so hats off to you pal.”
I’m flattered, really, now quick, go find some more seaweed.

With that, Pyro snapped another picture with the polaroid camera he had bought from a local store the night previous, being sure to take the photo and shake it about so that it would develop properly. The subject in question was Medic and Spy, both of whom were sound asleep on the beach within each other's arms, having previously been using Medics medical coat as a makeshift blanket, until Scout and Pyro had very carefully pulled it off of them. Now the two men were covered in a variety of things, such as seaweed, sand, shells, some strange blue and red crabs with white faces, rocks, more seaweed, and whatever garbage they could find, all of which was placed with great care, and in the most decorative positions possible.

Truly, it was a work of art.

The previous night had seen the two good friends romping about town after getting an earful from Albert about how stupid they were being, and to their credit, they did listen… kinda, at which point both of them got smacked upside the head, then they actually listened.

After that, they’d gone around and just been tourists, they ate a lot of great food, they saw some really cool art, went and saw a fire dance, which Pyro promptly joined, tried surfing, failed miserably, and finally they got a camera, and a book to hold the photos in. That had been Pyro’s idea, he’d wanted to be able to show Engineer and Ludwig everything they’d done while they’d been gone now that the team was doing something other than just the regular fighting, and he’d figured this would be the perfect way to do it. Of course, they hadn’t gotten to play around with it just yet, by the time they obtained it night had fallen, and the both of them were completely pooped, so they’d just gone to bed.

That was why when they’d gone to meet Sniper at his van and discovered Spy and Medic in such a photogenic state, they simply had to break out the camera and begin their documentation.

See if you can give Spy a seaweed mustache, Pyro instructed as he looked around for more things to put on the sleeping couple, quickly grabbing a large shell and thinking carefully about where to put it. “... I dunno know if I can do that dude, Spy’s gonna wake up.” Scout stated nervously while turning his attention back to Spy’s breathing, searching for any sign that he might be near waking, but so far there were none. Chicken, Pyro declared as he placed the large shell on Medic’s hip carefully, nudging it a little so that it’d stay balanced.

“I-I ain’t no chicken! I just… c’mon dude, he’s gonna smell it and wake up.”
Bawk bawk, chicken chicken, bawk bawk, chicken chicken, bawk bawk!
“I ain’t a chicken! I’m bein’ logical!”
Bawk, bawk, bawk!

“Fine, I’ll do it, but if he wakes up, don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Scout exclaimed quietly with nervous determination, quickly finding a short piece of green seaweed and approaching Spy, carefully kneeling down by his face with the vegetation in hand. Spy was actually in a pretty good position to be placing something on his face, he was sleeping on his back, his head leaned against Medics while facing up, with Medic being on his side, firmly pressed against Spy, his own face buried in the crook of Spy’s neck. Really it couldn’t have been better.

It was now or never.

Heart beating within his chest, breath held, hand trembling, Scout carefully lowered the green thing onto Spy’s face, carefully laying it out under his nose, before instantly dropping it there and backing away. Neither he nor Pyro moved for a whole ten seconds, waiting in anticipation for the man to spring up, curse them, and chase them around until the end of time. Somehow, nothing happened, which prompted Pyro to raise his camera to take another picture.

“Hey, hey waitaminute.” Scout instructed with a giddy voice, before approaching Medic, taking his ball cap off, and placing it on him, making sure the brim was backwards. “Ok, now take the pic”

That was exactly what Pyro did, giggling like a maniac as he took the photo out of the camera and started to air it out carefully. “Man, I can’t wait to see the finished product, I’ve been tryin’ to git somethin’ like this on Spy for years.” Scout stated while bouncing in place next to Pyro, who was hurriedly trying to get the photo to develop. You wanna know what the best part is? Pyro asked in an equally giddy voice. “What?”
It’s in color, he declared in a very modern, very scientific voice. “Ooooo, color.”

“Scout, Pyro, what’re you idiots doin’?” Sniper demanded to know in a very, very quiet voice, nearly causing the both of them to yelp, though they were able to catch themselves, somehow, instead letting some strange, stifled noises escape them as their cries caught in their throats. “Dude! Don’t do that!” Scout seethed out in a quiet shout, his voice breaking for a moment as he did so, all while Pyro clutched at his chest, feigning a heart attack as he staggered back. “Are you… oh my God…” Having officially lost his train of thought, Sniper just stared at the sight of Spy and Medic wordlessly, with no clear emotion present on his face. Perhaps he was disappointed, perhaps he was in awe, perhaps he was impressed, perhaps he found joy in their little work of art, it really was hard to say.

He then took a deep breath in, nodded his head, and looked at Scout and Pyro blankly, which scared the crap out of both of them, after all, this was Spy’s right hand man. “You do realize we’re gonna have to wake ‘em up, right?” Sniper asked in a flat tone, still showing no clear sign as to how he was feeling about the situation, much to Scout's chagrin. “Do we really have to?” Scout asked matter of factly, “I mean really, why do we have to do it? We could just walk away, pretend we don’t know who did it, have someone else wake ‘em, like uh, like Heavy.”
“You’re tellin’ me Spy’s gonna see your hat on the doc, and not instantly know who did this?”

He’s got a point, Pyro agreed, but that doesn’t mean we can’t take the hat off now and wake them up later, after all, we got the pic.
“Yeah, yeah that’s right!” Scout exclaimed excitedly, feeling a lot better about his newly realized predicament, “We’ll just take the hat off and walk away, and then let someone else wake ‘em up!” Sniper again stared at the two of them blankly, before just letting out a low groan and walking about thirty feet away, and simply laying down on his back in the sand, a deep, heavy sigh escaping him once he was flat on the sand.

A bit confused, Scout looked to Pyro to see if he had any idea as to what was bothering him, but he only gave a confused shrug in return, so he went ahead and walked over to Sniper and sat down next to him. He knew something was wrong, but he just wasn’t quite sure as to what exactly it was, although the more he thought about it, the more he realized it probably had something to do with his desperation to get out of his van the previous evening. There was a word for that, not liking being cooped up, but he just couldn’t remember what it was.

“Hey, you good, Snipe?” Scout asked worriedly, watching as Pyro came and sat down on the other side of Sniper, though Scout was quick to motion that he should move a bit further away so as to not crowd him, which Pyro quickly did. Sniper didn’t say anything in response, which led to Scout tapping his fingers against the sand while looking around, waiting for something that just wasn’t going to come. After a while, he turned back to Sniper and asked, “Ya nervous about gettin’ on the plane again?”

This turned out to be right on the money, as Sniper simply gave a deep sigh before turning his head away from Scout, though upon seeing Pyro looking at him quizzically, he simply groaned before turning his face back to the sky. “Hey it’s alright dude, I’m sure lots’a other people are scared of planes too!” Scout assured as he leaned back, “I mean, I’m pretty sure Engie is, right Pyro?”
Oh yeah, I don’t think he’s ever flown in his life.
“See? It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of, if ya want, I can spend the flight hangin’ out-”

“Thanks, but no.” Sniper quickly interrupted his tone now irked, but… something else? Scared? Damn it all, this is why Medic dealt with this kind of stuff, or Demo, or Heavy, or Engineer… Man, he really missed Engineer. “I…It’s… fuck…” Sniper seethed as he grabbed his hat and pulled it onto his head tighter, before taking a deep breath, holding it for a moment, and breathing out, suddenly seeming a lot calmer than he had been moments before. That was a great relief to Scout, who wasn’t sure if he knew how to properly deescalate an annoyed Sniper.

“I uh… I’m a bit uh… I’m a bit claustrophobic…” Sniper explained quietly, his hat now covering his eyes, “and… bein’ on the plane… I just… it just don’t feel right…” Claustro… claustroffo… huh? “Uh… what’s that mean?” Scout asked curiously, knowing he’d heard the word before, but just unsure as to what exactly it meant, he just knew it was a fear of… something.

It means he’s scared of Santa Claus, Pyro explained patiently, a great sympathy within his voice, one that Scout didn’t hear very often. Of course, Scout found this utterly ridiculous, and at first was about to make sure Sniper knew that he thought he was being ridiculous, but found his jeering grin faltering when he looked back down at Sniper. He actually looked really distraught over this, and while his hat was still covering half his face, Scout couldn’t deny the fact that the way Sniper's mouth pressed into just the slightest frown, as well as how firmly he pressed his hat onto his head, really did show how much this bothered him.

Now, as to why Santa Claus of all things scared Sniper was beyond him, after all, Santa was one of the best guys ever, it’s not like he’d ever done anything bad… oh… It wasn’t Santa he was scared of, it was Ol’ Nick, after all, Australians didn’t have Santa. Of course, Scout distinctly remembered watching Ol’ Nick die at the hands of a child some years back, so why Sniper was still scared of him was simply beyond him… unless he used Smissmas magic to bring himself back to life, but how would that work? He’d have to be in league with Merasmus, which would make sense, seeing as both of them were seemingly immortal magic guys, but why would Merasmus want someone like Ol’ Nick around to ruin Christmas? He seemed like the kind of guy who liked Christmas, though if it meant getting back at Soldier-

With that, Scout’s brain simply overloaded for a moment, before he suddenly remembered what he was supposed to be doing and quickly got back on track, realizing that Sniper needed some assurance.

“Hey, uh… c’mon Snipe, ya gotta admit, you uh… ya sound just a bit ridiculous, I mean, c’mon dude, nothin’s gonna happen.” Scout assured, genuinely trying to help him see the logic in his absurd fear, but the way Sniper simply pulled into himself made him realize he’d done the exact opposite. Great. “Aw, c’mon man I didn’t… Crap… I mean, whaddya think’s gonna happen anyway, huh?”

“I dunno…” Sniper muttered shamefully, “I just… it’s hard to explain… It’s stupid…” What struck Scout was how ashamed he really was, how little he seemed to like himself at that moment, how closed off he was slowly becoming. Damn, he really should’ve started his assurance off better, not that it was his fault necessarily, it wasn’t like he was the go to emotional guy or anything, that honor belonged to Engineer… No, that honor belonged to Medic nowadays… Huh… Man, they really needed to get him back.

“I mean… kinda… but ya know what, who cares?” Scout asked earnestly, figuring that everyone had at least one stupid fear, he knew he did anyway, “So what you’re scared of Santa, or Ol’ Nick, or whoever, everyone’s got somethin’ irrational that they’re afraid of, me and Pyro do, that’s for sure, I mean, I’m scared to death of-”
“What?” Sniper interrupted, his tone once again flat, yet somehow, angry, but just barely, the kind of tone that meant he was about to get really loud all at once. “I uh, I didn’t say what I was scared of yet.” Scout stated with confusion, only to watch Sniper sit upright, move his hat back into its proper place, then stare at him with complete irritation and bewilderment.

“You just say I was scared of Santa?”
“Uh… you-you said that you were claustrophobic, and that means you’re scared of Santa… right?”

The way Sniper's eye twitched told Scout he needed to start running if he wanted to have any chance at living, but alas, he really wanted to know what had pissed off his friend so much, so he decided to stay put and tank whatever was about to hit him. A certain phrase about what happened to curious cats was not in his brain when he made that choice.

“I ain’t scared of fuckin’ Santa Claus, ya fuckin’ retard! I’m scared of being stuck in a goddamn tincan with no way to git out!” Sniper snapped furiously, all while Scout quickly leaned away, flinching slightly at the sudden volume of Sniper's voice, as well as his sudden fury. “I’m scared that somehow the whole plane's gonna fall outta the sky for no good reason, I’m scared of every noise and creak, I’m scared of the turbulence! I hate bein’ in small spaces, I hate bein’ feelin’ trapped, I hate how everything feels like it’s constrictin’ me, I hate feelin’ like a piece of shit for hours!”

“Okokok! I getit, I getit, I misunderstood! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Scout quickly stammered out, raising his hands defensively as he did so, nearly falling back into the sand because of this action. “Where the hell do you git off thinkin’ that claustrophobia is the fuckin’ fear of… YOU!” Sniper exclaimed suddenly, instantly turning towards Pyro, who yelped while falling backwards, having been previously leaning forward to try and get the best view possible of Scout’s verbal demise.

“I don’t even know what to say to your sorry ass!” Sniper shouted as Pyro tried to drag himself backwards frantically, “I can’t tell if you were just fuckin’ with Scout, or if you actually beleive that claustrophobia is the fear of Santa! Jesus you’re a fuckin’ idiot! Same with you!” As he said this, he made sure to point an accusing finger at Scout. “I swear the two’a you share a single braincell that ya pass between each other like a fuckin’ game of ping pong! Ya can’t just say shit without thinkin’ it through properly! Fuck!”

With that, Sniper then got up and stormed away, kicking a rock as hard as he could as he went, sending it flying towards the water.

The first thing Scout and Pyro did after he’d left was instantly turn back towards Spy and Medic, both instantly letting out a sigh of relief upon seeing that they were both somehow still asleep. The second thing Scout did was to throw some sand at Pyro and quietly exclaim, “Dude, what the fuck! Were you bullshittin’ me?”
No! I thought that’s what it meant! Pyro quickly shot back, being sure to throw sand back at Scout, I mean really think about it for a second, you got the name Claus, then the Greek word phobia, meaning morbid fear. Claustrophobia, Claus of great fear, or in modern English, great fear of Claus.

Scout just stared at Pyro, utterly dumbfounded at his friend's complete conviction in his explanation. In fact, Pyro seemed so certain of his explanation that it got Scout to question whether or not Sniper had made a mistake in his labeling. Then again, this was Sniper, and Sniper was the one with the problem, so clearly that meant he knew more than they did.

“Dude, I can’t tell if you're a genius, or an idiot.”
Genius, obviously.
“... I dunno dude, I think ya might be an idiot.”
Well if I’m an idiot, you’re an idiot too.
“True, true… ya know what? No, we ain’t idiots, we’re just so smart, that we look stupid to everyone else.
Yeah!
“Yeah!”

Once that matter was properly settled in his mind, Scout went ahead and looked towards where Sniper had walked, and found him much further down the beach, once again laying down in the sand, hat firmly placed over his face. Man, he really was stressed over this, wasn’t he? It probably hadn’t helped that he’d called his fear ridiculous, though if he’d known what he was really scared of… Actually, it mostly sounded like Sniper was being paranoid, per usual, but at least it made a bit more sense… Kinda, not really.

Really, why were small spaces so scary? What were they gonna do exactly? They weren’t snakes, they wern’t gonna randomly start constricting until you died of suffocation… but weren't phobias irrational? Snipe was a pretty irrational guy, after all, he was the most paranoid man on the team by a long shot, or was that Spy? It was hard to say, both men got worked up easily, but Sniper got worked up over stupid things, like his van, and apparently small spaces, but wasn’t his van a small space? Well, maybe not, it actually could fit one guy pretty good, but it sure did feel small because… the whole team… was… in it…

Oh.

“We uh, we should probably go and apologize for makin’ him feel bad.” Scout said a bit sheepishly while messing around with the sand. Yeah, you’re right. Pyro agreed a bit sullenly, also starting to feel some guilt creeping in, so the both of them got up and walked back over to Sniper, once again sitting down on either side of him, being sure to leave him space. This in turn got a low, long groan from Sniper, who otherwise remained motionless.

“Hey, dude? We’re sorry about makin’ ya feel crappy, it was a mistake, honest.” Scout promised while rubbing the back of his neck, carefully watching for any signs that Sniper would snap at them again. Yeah, I’m sorry too, Pyro apologized, I didn’t mean to cause confusion.
“Yeah dude, we didn’t know that’s what claustrophobia meant, we uh… we just thought we were usin’ our brains, ya know?”

Sniper didn’t say anything in return, simply breathing in, then out, each breath long, deep, and clearly very well controlled, almost forced. Again, Scout began to fidget with the sand, now looking around for something, anything to look at other than Sniper, but alas, there was only the ocean. Ok, this wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad either, it was just awkward, but he didn’t know how to kill the awkwardness, anything he’d say would just make it worse… probably, anyway.

Actually, no, no he would not make it worse, that was Spy talking, and Spy was stupid, he was laying in the sand with a seaweed mustache and a bunch of crabs on him, why did he get to dictate his thoughts? Stupid Spy, making him feel stupid, Spy was stupid, not him.

“You… you’re just scared, arentcha? Is that why you’re bein’ so quiet?” Scout asked as carefully as he could, once again drumming his fingers on the sand rhythmically. Once again, there was a long, awkward pause which saw Scout simply messing around in the sand, waiting for Sniper to say something, and Pyro simply staring at Sniper silently. As they waited, Scouts fidgeting grew faster and faster, as he now began to draw stupid figures in the sand, his mind racing as to why Sniper wasn’t saying anything, fearing that just by being next to him he was somehow making things worse. Didn’t being a good friend mean staying when things got hard? Was he a good friend? Of course he was, he apologized, and he was sitting with his friend in his time of need.

He just wished Sniper would hurry up and say something before he exploded from all the stillness.

Then, at long last, Sniper muttered out in a barely audible voice, “I’m fuckin’ terrified.” This instantly got a huge sigh of relief from Scout, who instantly coughed to cover it, quickly stopping all his fidgeting to try and completely focus on Sniper, being sure to give Pyro a quick glare as he stifled a snort. “And… and I feel stupid for it,” he continued quietly, “… and… and I know I can’t help it, but… fuck all…”
“Hey, dude, if you’re feelin’ bad about snappin’ at us, it’s cool,” Scout assured, quickly motioning for Pyro to also give his assurance, “I mean, I wouldn’t like it if someone was callin’ me stupid, I fuckin’ hate it when Spy does that, so… I’m sorry.”

Yeah man, it’s all good. Pyro agreed, reaching over and patting Sniper on the shoulder kindly, before giving a thumbs up to Scout, who returned the gesture with a satisfied grin, happy to have handled the situation without any further problems. “I… Thanks…” Sniper muttered quietly, everything about him instantly seeming much, much calmer, which in turn made Pyro and Scout much calmer as well. Anytime man, anytime.

With that, Sniper took in another deep breath, before sitting up and putting his hat on properly, rubbing his hands over his face for a moment before leaning back, letting another sigh escape him as he looked between Scout and Pyro. He then scoffed fondly before shaking his head and saying to no one in particular, “Fuck off, I don’t wanna spend the next twelve hours on a fuckin’ plane, it’s gonna suck ass.”
“How so?” Scout couldn’t help but ask. “It just will. I’m gonna be stuck in my van, curled up in a fuckin’ ball, and just… Why am I tellin’ you this? I’m just bein’ fuckin’ retarded.”

No you’re not, and don’t say that! Pyro protested in a surprisingly snappy tone, You wouldn’t say Medic’s retarded because he gets scared of the old bastards, would you? You wouldn’t say he’s retarded whenever he gets spacey ‘cause he’s remembering all the bad stuff that happened to him, would you? You most certainly wouldn’t call Medic retarded whenever he gets nightmares, so don’t call yourself retarded just because you get scared of tiny spaces, it’s not fair! It’s just how you are, and if you need to curl up in a ball and cry about it, then curl up in a ball and cry about it, but you better know that we’ll be there for you until you feel better, and we will not be calling you retarded for it! Got it?

At first, all Sniper and Scout could do was stare at Pyro, a bit surprised by his sudden outburst and passion for such a seemingly casual insult. Then again, Scout knew that Pyro had a tendency to get passionate about the strangest things with no real rhyme or reason, so maybe this was just one of those things, or maybe he just really hated the word retarded. That would make sense, Scout could see someone calling Pyro retarded while thinking he wouldn’t understand them… he could also see Pyro burning someone alive for calling him retarded. Actually, he couldn’t really recall a time he’d ever heard anyone call Pyro retarded, sure he’d called him stupid when they’d first met, but Scout was pretty sure Pyro had called him stupid right back and that had been the end of that.

Retarded… Re-tard-ed… Huh, that was actually a pretty weird sounding word… Retarded. Re-

No, wait, he needed to get back on subject, Sniper needed him.

“Pyro, you’re a good friend, a real good friend,” Sniper stated quite seriously, though something about his tone indicated some bit of uncertainty, “and I do appreciate you tryin’ to help… but mate… I ain’t got a clue as to what ya just said.” Scout knew Pyro well, very well, and though he had never seen his face, he knew what certain silences and certain postures meant. For example, at that moment Pyro was perfectly still, hands now at his sides, staring Sniper in the face, breathing evenly, yet a bit quickly. That told Scout that underneath his mask, at least one of Pyro's eyes was probably twitching, and he was about to get very loud, very quickly.

Incredibly enough, Scout had also discovered that one of Pyro's biggest pet peeves was when people insulted themselves, though why this was, was beyond him, he just knew he hated when people did it.

Pyro then reached out and grabbed Sniper by his shoulders, pulled him close, and shouted, STOP CALLING YOURSELF RETARDED!!!
“Alright! Alright! I git it, heard ya loud and clear, now leggo!” Sniper instantly exclaimed in a panicked voice, leaning as far away as Pyro as he could, eyes wide, body tense. Seeing this, Pyro instantly let go, causing poor Sniper to fall back into the sand, quickly scrambling backwards onto Scout. “Jesus fuckin’-” Sniper muttered when he realized what he’d done, instantly stumbling to his feet and backing away from the both of them, then stopping, taking quick, shallow breathes once there was distance between them.

After taking a moment to somewhat collect himself, Sniper then snapped furiously, “That ain’t fuckin’ helpin’!”
Don’t call yourself retarded! Pyro shot back with equal fury. “I’ll call myself whatever I fuckin’ want, it ain’t like I’m fuckin’ wrong!”
It’s mean! And it is wrong! You’re not a retard!
“Jesus Christ- Take off the fuckin’ mask if ya want me to understand ya!”
Maybe open your ears and close your mouth!

“Hey, heyheyheyhey! That’s enough!” Scout finally interjected, quickly standing and getting between the two, quickly pausing, looking at the distance between himself and Sniper, then quickly motioning for Pyro to back up, which he did, scooting himself across the sand to do so. Scout then also backed up with him, promptly giving Sniper much more space. “Oh for fucks sake- I’m not gonna fuckin’ bite you!” Sniper exclaimed, the newly granted space clearly not having worked. “Uh, ya might,” Scout corrected factually, “I know how you get when you get ansty, and I do not wanna be near that. ‘Sides, I thought ya liked your space?”

Sniper then opened to snap at him again, but stopped, struggling to find anything to say, then let out a noise that sounded kinda like a growl before shoving his hat further onto his head, then running his hand through his hair, quickly looking away as he did so. Despite himself, Scout just smirked at the sight, happy to know that he’d been right on the money, happy to know he wasn’t as big an idiot as Spy always claimed he was.

“You’re just mad that I’m right.” Scout commented smugly, truly unable to stow his now even smugger grin. “Shut up.” Sniper seethed out in return, still looking away. “C’mon, admit it, you hate that I’m right.”
“Shut. Up.”
“You’re actin’ like I ain’t know you, like I ain’t seen you get pissed, well guess what? I have, and I know you don’t like people gettin’ close when you get pissed, so just-”
“Scout.”
“Alright, I’ll stop.”

Sniper then released another deep sigh, before moving his hat back onto his head properly again, though he continued to keep his gaze away from Scout. “Ok… this is betta…” Scout commented to no one in particular, “now… uh… Pyro, apologize for gettin’ up in Snipes space, and uh, Snipe, say you ain’t retarded… and mean it!”
But-but… fine…, Pyro muttered, starting to mess with the sand himself, I’m sorry for grabbing you and shouting in your face… But you can’t-
“Pyro!” Scout quickly scolded, trying his best to imitate the tone of voice his Ma used when she wasn’t in the mood for backtalk or excuses.

But-
“Ah!”
He-
“AH!”
Scou-
“AH!”

Fine… I’m sorry for grabbing you and shouting in your face… even though… no further comment. Pyro said, truly meaning it, and truly wanting to go on about how stupid Sniper had sounded. “Alright, there we go, progress,” Scout declared with satisfaction, before turning to Sniper expectantly and saying, “Snipe? Any comments?” Sniper seemed to struggle for a moment, his face holding a clear discomfort, before he closed his eyes and sighed again, releasing all the tension from himself as he did so. Scout personally marked this as a new record for the amount of times Sniper had sighed within a fifteen minutes timeframe.

“I… I do appreciate ya not wantin’ me to feel bad about myself, Pyro…” Sniper said, finally meeting their gazes, “I… I really do… but mate, ya just gotta think sometimes, like… c’mon.”
I know… Pyro agreed while hanging his head shamefully. “I… Hey, ya know what? Ya meant well, and uh… as long as it don’t happen again, let’s just consider us good, yeah? Just gotta think a bit more, that’s all, I mean, Scout’s gotta do that too, so you can work on that together, eh?”

“Hey!” Scout exclaimed, quite offended, but was ultimately ignored.

Yeah! We’re cool! Pyro quickly agreed, quickly standing and going to give Sniper a hug, before stopping and in a suspicious tone he declared, Wait… oh you think you’re so sneaky! Say you aren't retarded, then we’ll be cool!”
“Uh… what’s wrong?” Sniper asked Scout, who was currently nodding in agreement with Pyro. “Well, you haven't said you ain’t retarded yet, so…” Scout then made a hand gesture, indicating he needed to uphold his end of their little bargain.

Sniper in turn just stared at the two of them blankly for a moment, very, very unimpressed. Scout and Pyro simply stared back expectantly, while Pyro tapped his foot impatiently. “It ain’t that hard dude, I mean, most people would be jumping at the chance to say they weren’t retarded.” Scout stated flatly, to which Pyro nodded solemnly in agreement.

Sniper then just scoffed, before shaking his head to himself, before releasing yet another audible sigh, and finally saying, “Alright, alright… there is a very large possibility that-”
“Don’t make it complicated, just fuckin’ say it!”
“Ok, ok! Jesus… I… I ain’t retarded, happy?”

Thrilled! Pyro exclaimed joyously, once again running forward, and embracing Sniper tightly, truly relieved and happy. See, you’re not retared! You’re great just the way you are! Sniper in the meantime, did not look happy, simply standing very stiffly, his expression holding barely repressed anger, and looking like he wanted to rip Pyro a new one. Scout simply did his best to hold back his smirk and laughter, gaining far too much joy from Sniper's newly found predicament.

“Pyro… what’re ya doin’ right now that might piss me off?” Sniper asked in too calm of a tone for his current expression. Though no one could see whether or not Pyro’s face dropped into horror, Scout could just tell based on the way his body stiffened up that it probably just had. Instantly Pyro let go and took several quick paces backwards, holding his hands up in surrender while making distressed noises, all while Scout finally began to laugh his ass off.

I’m sorry! I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry!!! I wasn’t thinking! I’m sorry! Sniper in turn just shook his head disappointedly, when suddenly, he too began to smile, then laugh, lowering his gaze in a poor attempt to hide it. “You fuckin’ idiot.” he muttered fondly between laughs, before finally stopping for a moment and looking at Pyro again, only to start laughing again.

After a moment, he did stop, though he still smiled, and he turned to Scout, a look of real, genuine appreciation in his eyes, one which took Scout slightly off guard. His first instinct was to make a comment, a joke, something to get rid of Sniper's real gratitude, something which he felt he didn’t quite deserve… CRAP, THAT WAS SPY AGAIN.

“What?” He asked instead, finding it was the best middle ground to both satiate his curiosity and his desire to deflect. “It’s just… more often than not, ya really are a better man than Spy.” Sniper explained with an earnest smile. Somehow, and instantaneously, Scouts guard was completely shattered, and perhaps even more surprisingly, he finally had nothing to say. That was just something he’d never expected to hear, especially from Spy’s right hand man, and it just… it just… well… he…

Again, Scout’s brain had to run a reset, causing him to blink rapidly a few times before scoffing, shoving his hands in his pockets and saying, “Yeah? Well duh, course I am! I mean, it’s Spy, anyone can be better than that pompous ass, right?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Sniper agreed with a shrug, “but… I forget sometimes that…that it’s ok to just… I dunno… It’s nice talkin’ to someone who ain’t always lookin’ for an answer, ya know? It’s nice talkin’ to someone who actually acts like a human and just… isn’t tryin’ to find a fix, or… I dunno…”

Once again, Scout found himself on the deep end of the pool of emotions, and he was not a good swimmer. Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to swim at all, he just wasn’t the best… when it came to emotions, he was a great actual swimmer, heck he could probably swim laps around everyone, he just wasn’t a good emotional swimmer. Stupid analogies, making him look stupid, why did analogies exist? People should just say things as they are, such as:

Scout was not good at emotions!

“Yeah, well, uh ya know, it’s cool, it’s whatever, I mean, that’s what pals are for, right? Right, yeah, right, I mean, so what Spy ain’t a good pal, that’s his problem, but hey, I’m here, right? I’m a good pal, I ain’t jugdin’, I don’t give a crap, you do you man, if you’re scared of small spots, fine by me man, I ain’t care, I don’t need to fix ya, or whatever, it’s cool, you’re cool. We’re friends, and friends don’t judge, right? I don’t judge, well, I judge Spy but Spy needs to be judged, not enough people do that, so uh, I’ll judge him, but I won’t judge you, cause you’re you, and you’re my pal, Spy ain’t my pal, that’s why I judge him-”

“Scout.”
“Ok, you’re right, I’m ramblin’.”

Scout then took in a deep breath, not having realized that at some point he’d forgotten to breathe, which got a chuckle from Sniper, and a pat on the back from Pyro. “Point is,” Sniper continued, “you’re a better man than Spy, and I feel like someone needs to say that to your face, so… I’m sayin’ it. You’re a good man, Scout, a real good man.”
“Yeah well… uh… thanks, I… well uh… ya know it’s-”
“Scout.”
“Alright, I’ll just take it… thanks.”

Sniper just rolled his eyes at the last comment, then looked back towards Medic and Spy, letting out a snort as he did so. “Yeah, pretty cool right?” Scout declared smugly while offering a fist bump to Pyro, who quickly accepted while nodding in agreement, “It ain’t often someone can get the drop on Spy, but hey, it had to happen sometime, and well, I guess it makes sense that I got him, huh?”
“True, true,” Sniper agreed, “but uh… well, why dontcha look for yourself?”

Scout did, he did look, and what he saw nearly made him piss himself.

What he saw was Medic sitting up, Scout’s hat still on him with the brim turned backwards, now awake and talking with Demo, Heavy, Soldier, and Albert, while rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment… with Spy nowhere to be seen.

A few, strangled attempts at words left Scout's mouth, but ultimately, no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t find anything to say, so instead, he just looked between Sniper and the group, pointing wordlessly at Medic while strange noises left him. He could feel the blood draining from his face as his hands went clammy, and every fiber of his being screamed at him to start running, but his legs were just too numb to move. Huh, so this was what being on death row felt like? Huh…

“Mate, I’d git to runnin’ if I was you.” Sniper suggested calmly, a wry smile now plastered on his face, but Scout still couldn’t bring himself to move, no matter how hard he tried. It was only the sound of a cloaking device being deactivated right behind him that finally snapped his mind out of its terrified stupor, causing Scout to force himself to turn and face what would surely kill him.

There in front of him, still covered in sand, seaweed, and now only one crab, which was on his shoulder, stood Spy, his face red with fury, his body stiff, yet shaking, his eyes boring through him as if he were nothing at all, and of course, a cigarette held firmly between his lips, lit and smoking. He was breathing, yes, but it was very much forced, quick, shallow breaths. In short, it looked like he wanted to murder him using the most painful methods he knew, and he knew quite a lot.

“Oh… Hey Spy… Oh ya doin’?” Scout asked, his voice climbing three octaves despite his attempts at remaining calm, but Spy didn’t move, nor did he speak, he simply continued to stare him down. “You uh, you have a good sleep last night? I uh, I know I did, real, real deep sleep, yeah?”

Again, Spy said nothing, though upon feeling the crab begin to move on his shoulder, Spy simply reached over and flicked it off of him, sending it flying away to where no one could see it, all without even looking at it. “Oh… Yeah, that…” Scout finally acknowledged, watching as Spy released a large puff of smoke through gritted teeth, “You uh… Ya see, uh… well, actually, it was kinda Pyro’s idea, the uh, ‘decor’ and all. See, what he wanted to do was take a few pics for Engie when he got back, and uh, well you was right there, so we thought we’d uh, we thought we’d take a few pics, right Pyro?”

However, when he turned to Pyro for help explaining the situation, he found that not only was Pyro not there, but that he was a great distance away from them, having started running long before Spy had even decloaked. “Freakin’ coward, and called me a chicken.” Scout muttered under his breath, and turned to face Spy once again, hoping that he could somehow convince him not to empty his revolver in him, or use him as a pincushion, or kill him through secondhand smoke.

Instead, the last thing he saw was Spy’s fist headed right towards his face, before everything went black.

Chapter Text

Boarding the plane had proven to be a surprisingly smooth activity, even with Snipers constant search to find any and all reasons to stay away from it for as long as humanly possible. Once again, they’d simply hidden in the van while Albert had driven it, however this time there had been a problem, but what that problem was, was beyond any of them. Albert had simply told them to hold tight, and that they’d just have to wait in the van a bit longer, and that had been it.

Spy knew they were on the plane, but that was all. He also knew that Albert would not betray them, which begged the question, what had Albert overlooked?

It turned out that he’d overlooked something big, very big, after all, at the current moment, something was being done to the outside of the van, something was being put on it… but what? It honestly sounded like they were strapping something onto it, for something had definitely been moved underneath it, something had been secured on top, and something had been double checked meticulously. Truthfully, it didn’t really worry Spy that much, he figured it was some kind of safety feature… however the same could not be said for Sniper.

“Soldier, you have military experience, what’s happening?” Spy asked quietly, knowing full well that Soldier didn’t have any real military experience, but he unfortunately had no better man to turn to. “I am afraid I am not certain!” Soldier replied in an equally quiet tone, somehow, “This is airforce business, and I am not in the airforce! Hmm… It might be that they’re attaching a giant parachute in case the van is ejected from the plane!

“What?” Sniper growled out from somewhere in his bunk, causing Spy to sigh as he glared at Soldier. “That’s not happening, that’s ridiculous.” Spy argued flatly, which merely resulted in an offended scoff from Soldier as he walked away from Spy, muttering under his breath about how he’d been the one to ask him for advice. “Hmm, I think that is what happened.” Heavy murmured, listening very intently for any more sounds, but for now, all was quiet. “How the hell would you know?” Spy demanded, pressing his ear against the wall of the van to try and hear something, anything, starting to feel a bit anxious about what was going on outside. “Is just feeling. That, and logic.”

It was then quiet for another ten, long, terrible minutes, before finally, the plane started up, and after a while longer, it began to move, then finally, at long last, they were in the air. This prompted a sigh of relief from everyone, the tension leaving the van as quickly as it had entered, and all that was left was to wait until they reached a stable altitude, then finally, they would figure out exactly what had happened to the outside of the van.

Eventually, some time later…

“Alright gentlemen and Pyro,” Albert announced over the intercom, which instantly led to Scout and Pyro going to the van door to open it, “I would first like to formally apologize for the scare back there, I uh, I thought I’d be able to sneak out without any further inspection, but hey, my luck just ain’t that great.” When Scout and Pyro tried to open the door, to everyone's collective horror, they found that they couldn’t. “Now, I’ma just need ya guys to hold tight for a moment, I’ll be right there to letcha out, just uh, don’t try the door, uh… I’ll-I’ll explain once you guys are out. Sniper, don’t kill me.”

“Oh merde.” was the only thing Spy was able to get out before Sniper launched himself from his bunk, instantly scrambling to get balanced, before rushing to the window that connected the living area of the van to the front, climbing through it like a madman. “Can’t you just wait two more minutes like the rest of us?!?” Spy cried out in disbelief, watching as Sniper reached through the window one last time to grab his hat, which had been knocked off in his rush to get through. “I mean honestly, this is ridiculous even for you!”

“Don’t listen to him, Snipe! Git outta here while ya still can!” Scout cheered excitedly, with Pyro eagerly doing the same between excited whoops. The sound of the front door of the van being opened then slammed shut confirmed Sniper's successful departure, leaving the rest of the team waiting in anticipation for his inevitable reaction, while Spy could only bring himself to light a cigarette. Then, there was silence, the kind of silence that, at least in Spy’s personal experience, meant that Sniper was about to get very loud, very quickly.

That, and it probably meant that Soldier's original theory had been confirmed, much to Spy’s personal chagrin.

“WHAT THE FUCK!!!” Sniper then shouted in purer horror, causing Spy to roll his eyes while taking a drag of his newly lit cigarette. “What the actual fuck! Why is this ‘ere! Who did this! Jesus fuckin’ Christ- why!?!”

“How the fuck did you git outta the van!?!?” Albert cried out in shock, having made his way back to them a bit faster than Spy had originally expected. “What did you do!?!” Sniper shouted at him furiously. “I didn’t do shit! If anything, you should be thankin’ me!”
“Why would I thank you for this! Do you have any idea how many scratches are on my van now!?!?”
“Uh, how ‘bout none? Cause I ain’t that kinda asshole.”
“Bullshit! I know there’s somethin’ wrong, there’s gotta be!”

“Hey, let us out!” Scout cried out as he pounded on the door, trying desperately to get the other two men's attention. “Jesus fuckin’- I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” Albert quickly assured, his voice getting closer and closer with every word, until it was clear that he was right outside. “Can’t just be patient, no one’s got any patience anymore, couldn’t just wait thirty seconds, freakin’ paranoid, claustrophobic Aussie.” Albert muttered to himself as he undid… something.

“I fuckin’ heard that!”
“Suck it.”

Seconds later the door was swung open triumphantly by Albert as he declared in a terribly dramatic tone, “And let there be light!”
“About freakin’ time!” Scout exclaimed as he ran out, desperate to find out what had gotten Sniper so worked up, quickly being followed by the rest of the team. “Geez, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were a paranoid claustrophobic Aussie, Jerry,” Albert stated in sarcastic bewilderment, “otherwise I woulda opened that thing with my mind as soon as we were steady. I’m sorry I didn’t just use my mind to open it right away, how inconsiderate of me to run back here as quickly as possible, instead of just usin’ my big ass brain.”
“Man, shut up.”

As he exited the van, Spy made sure to keep his gaze away from Albert, and despite himself, away from Medic too, just wanting to try and ignore the unspoken tension for however long he could. That didn’t mean that Albert didn’t look at him though, he could feel it, subtle though it was, that cold, hateful gaze that lingered for just a moment longer than it should have. He deserved it, and he knew it, but that didn’t mean it was necessary, especially with the rest of the team around, after all, Spy knew damn well he could control that look if he wanted to. No, Albert knew what he was doing, he wanted the others to see it, or think they saw it at the very least… or maybe it was all in his head.

It didn’t matter, that was all in the past, and with luck, they’d simply avoid each other for the rest of the flight, but for right now he had more pressing matters to attend to. Well, they weren’t pressing to him, but Sniper was certainly making it that way.

When he looked at the van to see what exactly had been done to it, Spy’s face simply dropped in utter disbelief and irritation, simply because, somehow, against all odds, against all forms of logic, Soldier had been right. The US military had strapped a large parachute around Sniper's van. Honestly though, it did look very secure, well, the parts that hadn’t been temporarily undone by Albert anyway, and Spy could see why they would do that, considering that van was supposed to be delivered to Vietnam. All the same, he didn’t like that Soldier had been right, and that the US military put parachutes on vehicles when flying, it just felt… stupid.

“Git this thing off my van, now!” Sniper ordered in a tone Spy wasn’t sure he’d ever heard him use before, not that he was complaining about it though. “Look, I get it,” Albert assured understandingly, “they messed with your ride, they probably gave it a scratch or two, I tried my best to avoid that, but if we’re bein’ honest, it’s probably not a bad thing to have just in case somethin’ does go wrong.”
“Mate, you don’t get it,” Sniper declared with barely contained fury, “havin’ that thing on my van is invitin’ trouble! Because there’s a parachute on my van, it’s gonna fall outta the sky! That’s what life does to us! It’s not insurance, it’s assurance, assurance that my van will be fallin’ out of the sky!”

Albert said nothing for a moment, trying to find the right things to say to calm him, before throwing his hands in the air in defeat and exclaiming, “You’re right! Ya know what, you’re right, it is temptin’ fate, it is askin’ for somethin’ to happen, but ya know what? I’d rather be fallin’ outta the sky with a parachute, than without one, so maybe be grateful for the fact that ya got your van at all, and stop bitchin’ over a massive ‘what if’ scenario. I mean seriously, what the fuck is possibly gonna take us down, huh?”
“Don’t fuckin’ say that!” Sniper cried out in pure distress as he turned to face Albert, “Now somethin’s gonna shoot us down! Fuck, dontcha git it? If say ya anythin’ along the lines of, ‘what could get worse’, or, ‘what could possibly happen’, sometin’s gonna fuckin’ happen!”

“Alright, alright, I get it, that’s how it works, you’re right that’s probably what’s gonna happen,” Albert conceded with a shrug, before dawning a more, dare Spy think it, Scout like expression, and stating, “so ya know what? Let’s git it out of your adventure early, huh? Let’s invite all the bad shit now so that ya ain’t got none to deal with later, how’s that sound?” In response, Sniper just stared at Albert in disbelief and mild horror, standing perfectly still as he did so, everything about him crying out against Albert's temptation of fate. He wanted to say something, he wanted to protest, he wanted to strangle him then and there, but he couldn’t, not when they were in the air, not when his van had something foreign attached to it, not when so many eyes were on him.

Before Spy could come up with any remark of his own, which he definitely wanted to make, Medic spoke up, saying in a patient, yet certainly serious tone voice, “Maybe we just… don’t do that.”
“C’mon, you believe in that crap too?” Albert joked with a light chuckle, only to quickly stop once Medic gave him what might be considered a hard stare by some, but was really more of a warning look. He held this look for a moment, making sure the younger man knew that he was being quite serious, before repeating in a very stern tone, “Maybe we don’t do that.” Albert blinked for a moment, taking in the tone of voice that had just been used at him, then nodded slowly in agreement, his joking manner quite gone now, before agreeing in a more serious tone, “Yeah, yeah maybe we don’t do that, huh? Maybe let’s not do that.”

At that, Spy smirked, just long enough for Albert to notice, before quickly dropping it and regaining his neutral expression. This earned him a flash of anger from Albert, one that might not have been there at all, before he too seemingly returned to normal.

Albert then smiled sheepishly for a moment as he lit a cigarette, before turning to Sniper and asking, “C’mon man, I was just playin’, no harm done, right? We’re cool?” What amazed Spy the most about this interaction was how quickly Albert went from teasing, to being genuinely caring, and he just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Often this quick shift signaled disingenuousness, falsehood, a con, something other than real emotion, but not this man, this man was real, and Spy couldn’t understand it. Then again, he hadn’t had any siblings, so what did he know about being an older brother?

After staring at Albert coldly for what felt like hours, Sniper finally let out a low groan, then stated in an equally low voice, “Alright, we’re cool.” He was still stressed, the environment he was in doing absolutely no favors, but he wasn’t quite as upset as he had been, something in his eyes just seeming calmer. “Sweet,” Albert stated with relief, still smiling, “glad we’re cool. Now I’m serious, I made sure nothin’ got scratched, at least I did my best anyhow, I ain’t gonna screw you like that, ‘K pal?”
“Right… right…”
“Hey, I’m serious, give me some credit will ya? Or uh… Ah, nevermind, let’s just leave it there, eh?”

To that, Sniper simply nodded, before looking around the rest of his team, and upon realizing all eyes were currently on him, he quickly lowered his gaze, causing the brim of his hat to cover his face. “Um… I’ll… I’ll uh… I’ll be in my van.” he muttered quietly, before quickly making his way back to his van, once again closing himself off from the rest of the plane, though this time, Spy made sure to make proper note of it. He doubted Sniper wanted anyone with him at that current moment, but he knew that would probably change, whether Sniper admitted it or not.

“Damn, he really is claustrophobic, isn’t he?” Albert stated with a bit of a guilty tone, quietly blowing out some smoke as he did so. “Ja, he is.” Medic confirmed with a sympathetic smile, which earned a grateful nod from Albert, before he sighed and looked around the team, nodding to himself as he did so. “Right, I’ma be flyin’ the plane if any’a you guys need me, in the meantime, make yourselves comfortable, we got a long flight ahead of us.”

With that, Albert made his way to the cockpit, quickly being followed by Scout and Pyro, both of whom were eager to learn to fly the plane, while Soldier produced a deck of cards, quickly inviting the others to play. Spy of course was always happy to take their money, especially when they practically gave it away, but first, there was something else he wanted to take care of, and he couldn’t do it alone.

Before Medic could follow the others, Spy quickly, yet gently grabbed his arm, a silent invitation to hold back for a moment, which Medic did, a curious expression now dawning on his face. “Is everything alright?” he asked worriedly, only for all his concerns to melt as Spy drew him in closer, his face now turning a vibrant red as Spy gave a coy smile. “It is,” he assured with a suave tone, “I was simply thinking about the fact that it’s been a while since we’ve been… properly alone, and with everything between us now resolved… Well, I was hoping you might be willing to step aside with me for a moment. The plane is big enough, I doubt anyone will notice our absence.”

As he said this, Spy placed his hand on Medic’s hip, quietly drawing him closer, until their faces were mere inches apart, and he could all but feel the heat radiating off of his lover. Truly, there was no better sight in the world than that of Medic’s starstruck eyes, as he became well and truly lost within both himself, and Spy’s gaze. Those beautiful sapphire eyes of his never failed to give away everything he was thinking and feeling, and Spy lived for it, he lived for the way his lover became well and truly his.

“I… I suppose no one would notice…” Medic agreed quietly, his voice sounding not quite there, which led to Spy’s smile growing, before he removed his cigarette from his mouth, leaned in, and kissed Medic with some passion, reveling in the slight quiver this evoked from him. They hadn’t had the chance to have any physical intimacy since before they had evacuated from the Red base, and honestly, Spy doubted they would have this chance again for a long time, and he planned on making the absolute most of it.

As he pulled away from his lover, being sure to put his cigarette back into his mouth, he gently took him by his hand, and began to lead him further back into the plane, away from the van, and away from the rest of the team, watching as Medic quietly followed, seemingly under a spell, completely willing, completely his. He knew it shouldn’t make him feel so satisfied with himself, but damn it all if the sight of his lover simply giving in to him didn’t just fill him with a sense of pride, dare he think it, power. Then again, they both wanted this, and who was he to deny either of them?

Once they were out of sight, and once he had Medic’s back firmly against a wall, Spy let out a small sigh, releasing smoke as he did so, admiring his lover for a moment, before flicking his cigarette away, and going in to kiss him, closing his eyes as he did so. However, the feeling of Medic’s hand upon his chest, a gentle request to stop, made him pause. Confused, and slightly worried, Spy stepped back and looked at Medic, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong. He didn’t see anything inherently wrong, but something about Medic’s expression, calm and ready though it was, told him that a boundary was about to be set.

“Spy, we are not going all the way.” Medic stated firmly, truly leaving no room for negotiation. Despite himself, despite how he prided himself on not showing his true feelings, Spy’s face couldn’t help but drop in disappointment, for he would be lying he said he hadn’t been hoping that today might be the day they, well, went all the way, but of course, that wasn’t entirely up to him. Still, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice to simply have this moment, and he would still make it count.

“I didn’t ask to.” Spy stated factually, hoping to save face and recover from his initial reaction to the news. “You were going to, one way or another.” Medic replied in an equally factual tone, to which Spy simply averted his eyes, knowing damn well he’d planned on trying to make that scenario as unavoidable as possible once they got properly started. “Frankly, I don’t even think you’d know what to do once we got to that point, seeing as you're a self proclaimed… uh, Damen man.”

Spy went to say something in his defense, truly he did, but only let out a short breath, knowing damn well Medic was right, and that somehow he’d let his… feelings… outweigh his logic. “You could always show me,” Spy offered with a sly smile, finally turning his gaze back to his lover, watching as Medic’s face fell into unamusement, yet at the same time, amusement, “talk me through it perhaps? Or maybe we could find another use for that pretty little mouth of yours, hmm?”
After staring at him just long enough to make him feel awkward, Medic stated in a flat, utterly unamused tone, “You’re funny, but not that funny.” To this, Spy simply rolled his eyes dramatically, before leaning in, forcing Medic against the wall, his face flushing as he once again began to slip under Spy’s spell. “I don’t have to be,” Spy whispered into his ear in a low, sultry tone, watching as Medic quivered for a moment, “I just have to be charming.”

With that, they fell into one another, completely and wholly, becoming lost in each other's touch, emotions, and passions, both realizing they’d missed these sort of moments more than they’d originally thought, even though they hadn’t had many. Yes, things between them were still young, but they themselves were not, and they knew themselves, and how fast, or slow, they wanted to go. Therefore, they trusted each other, and themselves, for that was all they had, and at that moment, that was all they wanted.

(Eleven hours of passion, sleeping, talking, more passion, cuddling, remembering Sniper needed help, checking on Sniper, calming Sniper, talking with Sniper, listening to Sniper rant, more sleeping, finding the rest of the team, talking with the rest of the team, and a few games of poker later… )

Spy looked at his cards quietly, knowing damn well he didn’t have a thing to work with, but also knowing that no one else at the table knew that. Currently, his opponents were Heavy, Demo, Soldier, and Medic, with Pyro and Scout somehow still in the cockpit, and Sniper firmly entrenched within his van. So far no one had folded, yet, though by the looks of things Soldier was close to that point, judging by how he kept making disgruntled noises while readjusting his cards.

The man's luck hadn’t been particularly good, and based on what he’d heard about the last time they’d all sat down and played, he didn’t have much money, if any at all. Actually, Spy was fairly certain he’d borrowed some from Heavy in order to even enter to begin with. Either way, so far Spy was doing very well, and hadn’t suffered any devastating blows, and he hoped to keep it that way for as long as humanly possible.

He was just eternally grateful for the fact that he wasn’t currently playing against Engineer, his only real opponent when it came to this sort of game. That man would just dig deep into his southern roots, and talk, and comment, and relax, and smile, and say the word ‘shucks’ at every given opportunity, all while being sickeningly polite and calm, even when he lost. He was especially polite whenever he won, which drove Spy up the wall, and Engineer knew it. It was that overdone, sickeningly sweet southern charm that always managed to break through Spy’s careful concentration, always pissing him off at just the right moment to let something slip about his hand, though what that tell was Engineer would never say.

He missed it… He missed having that challenge that only he provided…

It hurt even more knowing that even if they got him back, things would never be the same between them. Spy didn’t regret the choices he made, he never would, but if he’d known the price would have been so steep, he would’ve been more careful, more understanding, more compassionate. Alas, that just wasn’t who he was… No, that hadn’t been who he was…

“Oi, we’re raisin’, ya in?” Demo asked, quickly getting Spy’s attention back onto the game at hand, simply glancing up at Demo with irritation, as if he’d heard him the first time. “Surely I am allowed to consult my cards, no?” he asked in a dismissive tone, simply matching the current bet while continuing to smoke his cigarette quietly. “I dinnae, looked to me like yar mind was somewhere other than the cards” Demo commented skeptically, watching as Soldier threw his cards down and folded his arms in defeat, muttering some nasty curses under his breath as he did so.

“It was probably in back of plane with tiny doctor.” Heavy commented dryly, unable to hide his growing smile as Medic instantly lowered his cards and shot him a nasty look, his face instantly turning a brilliant red. It turned out that everyone had noticed their absence back at the start of their flight, and every time an opportunity arose to make a comment about it, someone took it, much to both Spy and Medic’s chagrin.

“Easy now lad,” Demo stated with a cheeky grin, “I don’t think the doc can afford to keep turnin’ red like that, he might end up stayin’ that color forever.”
“Ah, you are right, we do not want that.” Heavy agreed solemnly, before both men stifled their laughter, simply smiling in amusement instead. If he could, Spy would smack their heads together in a heartbeat, but alas, he wasn’t in the right position for it.

“You know, I liked it better when the two of you defended me from such comments.” Medic muttered to himself as he looked back at his cards, not showing any sign of what he held, at least for now. “Oh c’mon now, it's all in fun,” Demo assured as he rubbed his beard thoughtfully while addressing his own hand, “it’s not like we’re sayin’ anythin’ outrageous, we’re just…”
“Being friends.” Heavy stated mischievously, to which Demo nodded in agreement, his cheeky smile quickly returning. “Aye, that.”

“Well I would most appreciate it if you stopped.” Medic snapped back, completely and utterly unamused. “Alright, alright, we’ll quit,” Demo conceded, his mischievous look quickly turning into something more genuinely friendly, “no harm meant.” Medic just nodded in acceptance, before looking back at his cards, taking an odd breath before readjusting his seat. Evidently the man had something good, which told Spy he needed to fold, so he did.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Spy stated flatly as he exhaled some smoke, “but wasn’t it the two of you who smacked Scout upside the head for making similar comments to yours hardly a few days ago?”
“Da, but Scout was being jerk, we are being friends.” Heavy explained, as if somehow what he said made any sense at all. “It’s all in the intent ya see,” Demo elaborated as he raised the pot, “that, and the tone of voice, it’s all very particular. One can say somethin’ that’s normally considered rude and mean it in a friendly way, so long as the right parameters are met… Evidently we didn’t quite meet those.”

Medic just sighed quietly at that comment, before saying in what Spy perceived as a completely unnecessary apologetic tone, “I… I didn’t mean to get quite that upset, I just… I do not like it when people, um… how do I say this… I don’t like it when people make fun of me for my… romantic life… It just… it makes me uncomfortable…”
“Dually noted,” Demo declared understandily, “won’t be happenin’ again.”
“I just… I don’t know, it’s such a silly thing to get upset over in the grand scheme of things, but I really just… I don’t even know how to describe it.”
“It’s alright, lad, no need to explain yarself.”
“It feels so personal, and it feels so… embarrassing, even though I know I shouldn’t feel ashamed, I just do! I shouldn’t be so stiff about it, and I know it’s meant well, but-”
“Doc.”

With that, Medic finally looked over at Demo, who was currently looking at him with mild amusement, as well as great care and assurance, a quiet reminder that he didn’t need to explain himself. Seeing this, Medic just sighed and nodded, a silent understanding that not only was he rambling, but that all was understood between them.

“Right… danke.” he said with a quiet smile, before looking around the table to confirm that all the bets were done. “Anytime lad, anytime.” Demo assured, looking over at Heavy to confirm that all the raising was done, to which he simply gave a solemn nod, before laying his cards down, revealing three fours, an ace, and a two.

“And danke for the money!” Medic exclaimed as he laid his cards down, revealing a full house of threes and tens, quickly going and grabbing the money that was in the middle of the table. While Heavy simply scoffed and shook his head in disappointment, Demo had a far less calm reaction, slowly turning his head to Medic, his eye wide with anger, his face scrunched up with barely contained irritation. “Danke, Vielen dank.” Medic continued, completely ignoring Demos' expression as he organized the cash, before collecting all the cards and starting to shuffle, an unusually cocky grin on his face.

“You… Are the worst winner I’ve ever met. And I’m playin’ with Spy right now.” Demo seethed out as Medic continued to shuffle, now humming quietly to himself, his grin growing. “Ja, well, I’m not a perfect man, despite popular belief.” Medic replied, now starting to deal out the cards between them. “I hate ya, ya know that? I hate ya.” Demo declared as he picked up his cards, letting out a deep, borderline groan like sigh as he did so, before setting them down quietly in order to take a moment to collect himself. “You and many others meine friend.” Medic commented, before picking up his own cards and adding his entry price.

“What! Who could possibly hate you!” Soldier asked in utter bewilderment, and Spy had to admit, he was a bit curious as well. “Oh, several old bastards come to mind.” Medic mused quietly as he made his discards, keeping only two cards, which Spy noted for later. “Oh, that doesn’t count! They hate all of us! Well, maybe they hate you the most, but they seem like they hate everyone who isn’t them!”
“Soldier has a point, they do seem to hate all who aren’t them.” Heavy agreed thoughtfully as he pulled in his new cards, before squinting at them, then coughing a bit and going back to normal. It appeared as though he were about to attempt a very, very poor bluff.

“Or is it that they hate anyone who isn’t American?” Spy mused, happy to see that he had successfully pulled a flush. “Ooooo, that’s a good point.” Demo agreed, his eye widening with realization as he looked towards Spy, who kept his attention on his cards. “I didn’t think of it like that… other than callin’ the doc a kraut, have they said anythin’ else, eh… not racist, what’s the word…”
“Uh… Oh Gott I know what it is, uh…” Medic muttered, trying and failing to come up with the word, simply raising instead.

“Xenophobia.” Spy stated without much thought, meeting Medic’s bet, and raising, knowing damn well he could get away with a lot of money if he played the game right. “That!” Demo exclaimed, “Have they said anything xenophobic, other than callin’ Medic a kraut.”
“Well… They certainly insulted you guys a lot,” Medic recalled, thinking very hard about what they had said during his time as their teammate, “but I can’t tell if it was truly meant that way, or if it was just battlefield insults, you know, the way Soldier insults others.”

“Pretty sure Soldier is xenophobic.” Heavy muttered under his breath, which got a snort out of Spy, one which he quickly tried to cover with a cough. “Oh, wait, they definitely are,” Medic stated with some disappointment, “I recall when me and Sniper were looking for guns at Saxton’s, and the Boss said some rather unflattering things about Australians, claiming he was the exception.”
“I recall the fallout of that.” Spy replied, surprised when Soldier continued to raise, starting yet another round of bets.

“Aye, he called me a freak,” Demo recalled, “oh course, I showed him up somethin’ fierce, had him runnin’ with his tail between his legs, the yellow bellied prick.”
“You’re lucky he didn’t call you something worse.” Spy mused, finally seeing that everyone simply met the bet, and didn’t raise. “Aye, like cyclops, ooo that woulda driven me up the wall.” Demo declared with great annoyance, though Spy was too busy looking at him with flat bewilderment to take much note of it.

“Nothing else? That’s the worst thing he could’ve called you?”
“Hmm… That I can think of. Oh, I suppose he could’ve made some comment on my Scottish heritage, ooo then he would’ve been askin’ for it. I woulda shoved my boot right up his sorry ass!”
“... Nothing else?”
“Hmm… Nope.”

Spy just stared blankly at him for a moment, before agreeing with a barely hidden sarcasm, “But of course, that’s the worst type of insult that could ever possibly be thrown at you, nothing else obvious comes to mind, other than that you’re Scottish, and only have one eye. Nope, no other insult could possibly come to mind, especially to a man that horribly vile.”
“Nope, none…” Demo agreed somewhat cheerily, before briefly glancing at Spy, and asking in a daring, near threatening tone, “unless ya can think of somethin’, but if that’s the case, I’ll be needin’ ya to be really specific with the insult ya have in mind that I couldn’t possibly think of.”
“Nope, nothing comes to mind.” Spy instantly stated in a panicked tone, cursing his need to be the smartest man in the room, and forgetting that Demo wasn’t an absolute idiot.

“That’s what I thought.” Demo declared with satisfaction, and once he confirmed everyone else was done with their bets, he laid out his cards, revealing three sevens. Medic just sighed in defeat, while showing his pair of aces, all while Heavy just threw down literally nothing, his highest card being a king, while Soldier threw down three nines, highly satisfied with his hand.
That was until Spy revealed his hand, at which point everyone groaned in defeat as Spy smugly drew in his winnings, being sure to organize them once he had proper hold of the cash.

“A riveting game gentlemen, truly riveting.” Spy complimented, half meaning it, half boasting, all while Medic collected the cards and began to shuffle, just shaking his head in mild amusement. It really had been a while since Spy was able to well and truly relax like this, and he would also admit that he really had missed spending this sort of time with his team, though he would never say that bit outloud. He lamented the fact that Engineer wasn’t with them, but that was a problem he planned on fixing very, very soon, whether Miss Pauling knew about it, or not.

Fifteen minutes later, and they were still playing, with the money being passed around, and no one man holding all the luck, though Spy was happy to say he currently held the most cash. There had yet to be any sign of Scout, Pyro, or Sniper, but Spy simply figured that the first two were still, somehow, in the cockpit, while Sniper… Well, he hoped that he was simply asleep, and not currently panicking within his van. All the same, with the flight nearly completed, everyone in a more or less sound state of mind and body, and good moods all around, it seemed like for the first time, everything would simply go as planned, with no complications, or unforeseen trouble to meet them out of nowhere.

Honestly, what could possibly go wrong from here?

“Hey, Spy, mind if I talk with ya for a sec?” Albert asked out of practically nowhere, having made his way back to the poker table, for some horrible, terrible, inexplicable reason. Spy simply lifted his eyes from his cards with the purest form of irritation he could summon, before releasing a cloud of smoke and raising the pot, wanting nothing more than to just ignore him and continue taking his friends' money.

Thankfully, Medic spoke for him, simply asking in a highly suspicious tone, “What exactly do you mean by ‘talk’?”
“Ya know, talk? Chat? Converse with words?” Albert replied with a bit of confusion, which seemed genuine enough. “Nothing else?” Medic queried again, causing Albert's expression to shift into understanding, before he gave a quick laugh and nodded to himself, an air of awkwardness now definitely surrounding him.

“C’mon man, sure we got our differences, but we’d never get physical, I mean hell, this guy saved my ass from the Korean mafia, we’re tight, right Spy?” Albert declared with almost too much genuineness, all while giving Spy a look that both said they were friends, and that he’d kick his ass if he said otherwise. Spy just blinked in response, before taking a long drag of his cigarette, and blowing out the smoke unceremoniously, then quietly turning back to his cards.

“Nice,” Albert stated flatly, with a semi-amused smile, “but seriously pal, we gotta talk for a sec, I promise it won’t take long.” Spy just groaned to himself in response, before simply folding, not that he had much to begin with, and getting up to follow Albert. “You’ll just be talking, ja?” Medic pressed with suspicious concern, his entire focus on the two of them. “Promise, just a talk, a regular, old fashioned, civilized conversation.” Albert promised with a crooked smile, before turning and walking back to the cockpit, with Spy following close behind him.

Once arriving, Spy was horrified to find that Scout and Pyro were currently flying the plane, each taking this job with as much seriousness as they could, and perhaps worst of all, seeming to have an actual impact on their current flight. That… Oh dear God, how long had those idiots been flying the plane??? How long had his life been in the hands of these two imbeciles???

“Alright fella’s, gonna need ya to clear out,” Albert ordered as he lit his own cigarette, “me and your boss gotta have a quick chat, that and I’ll be beginnin’ our descent soon, and uh, ya don’t know how to do that bit yet.”
“Aw man, I was just startin’ to git the hang of this.” Scout lamented as he got up, giving Pyro a quick punch in the shoulder to indicate he should follow. “Yeah, I know, but it is what it is.” Albert acknowledged as he exhaled some smoke, giving Scout a quick pat on the shoulder before saying, “Next time ya visit I’ll give ya a proper lesson, alright? Work with somethin’ smaller.”
“Really! Aw hell ya! Ya better not be pullin’ my leg with that one Al, I’m holdin’ ya to that.”
“Yeah, yeah, now git outta here, grown ups gotta talk now.”

It was then Pyro’s turn to make an offended comment, very clearly defending both their statuses as adults with a very haughty tone. “... Yeah, whateva ya say pal.” Albert replied with a tone only an older brother could give, before giving them a nod which indicated it was time for them both to leave. With a disappointed noise, Pyro then slowly made his way out of the cockpit, being sure to literally drag his feet as he went, all while Scout laughed at him and walked out, giving a quick mock salute to Albert as he did so. Once they were both alone, Albert went and sat back down in the pilot's seat, acting as though Spy wasn’t even there, that once friendly air he carried leaving him, instead settling into something much, much colder.

Fantastic.

“Alright, what’s this really about?” Spy asked as he took a seat in the co-pilots chair, exhaling smoke quietly as he did so. “Just wanted to chat, talk a bit more about the future and the work you fella’s are gonna be doin’.” Albert replied while fixing a few settings on the dashboard, and slightly fixing their direction, nothing about his tone giving away anything, no anger, no hate, nothing. That bothered Spy, a lot.

“I thought we already did that.” Spy stated with borderline unamusement, his heart starting to beat just a bit faster with every second Albert didn’t look at him. “Oh, we did,” Albert admitted with a far too casual tone for Spy’s liking, “but I just thought’a somethin’ that I didn’t git a chance to bring up before, and thought I’d go ahead and take care of this particular subject before I dropped ya off, seein’ as we won’t be speakin’ again… hopefully.” Spy just stared at him a moment longer, before giving up his search for his true intentions, knowing damn well he wouldn’t find any, and that the younger man was about to express them anyway. He didn’t feel like he was in danger, not really, but it did feel like an unspoken threat was lingering in the air around Albert, and that was enough to make him feel uncomfortable within his own skin.

“See, I haven't seen Jerry in a long time, five years to be exact,” Albert explained as he made a few last finer adjustments, before quietly leaning back in his seat, “and man, I tell you what, I really did miss him. Yeah, we had our disagreements, he did and said a lotta shitty things, but he’s my brother, my littlest brother, and I raised him, maybe he didn’t turn out so good, but that don’t mean he ain’t good. Anway, talkin’ with him these last few days, bein’ with him, it’s meant the world to me, it’s taken a burden off my chest I didn’t really think I had… I mean, I already lost Tommy, I didn’t wanna think about losin’ Jerry too.

“Ah, but enough about that, you don’t care about nonna that,” Albert continued with a soft, nostalgic smile, before taking a drag of his cigarette, “don’t matter to you anyhow, seein’ as ya ain’t exactly involved, and no, bein’ friends with my Ma don’t count, so don’t say it does.”
“I wasn’t going to.” Spy promised, his heart having slowed, though it now felt like he could feel the organ itself within his chest, the air around them suddenly growing much thicker.

“Good, at least ya know your place,” Albert said, his tone finally shifting into something harsher, if only for a moment, “anyhow, I digress. All this got me thinkin’, thinkin’ about Jerry, ‘bout my family, ‘bout how I’m flyin’ my brother out to do one helluva dangerous job, on one of the most dangerous places on this planet, and I ain’t gonna be there to protect his stupid ass. Sure, he’s a smart guy, but he ain’t nature smart, and he don’t know this place, and he sure as fuck don’t know the locals, and that could cause trouble for him, big trouble.

“The more I thought about it, the more I realized that there are literally a million things that could kill him out there, between his enemies, the locals, the spiders, the snakes, the kangaroos, the crocs, everything! It’s dangerous, and in that kinda environment, it seems more than likely that if he wandered off, he might not ever be heard from again, and that got me really worried, because at the end of the day, it ain’t the spiders and snakes I’m worried about, Sniper’ll keep him safe from those.”

Albert then released a very large cloud of smoke, watching as it disappeared into the air around him, before finally turning and looking at Spy, his sky blue eyes shining with pure, brilliant, raw hatred, all while the rest of him remained alarmingly neutral.

“It’s the guy who’s too good with a knife that I’m worried about, the guy who wants to keep himself safe above all else, the guy who don’t much care for him, the guy who don’t want his big ass secret comin’ out. That’s what I’m worried about right now, cause man, I tell you what, I would really hate for somethin’... unexplained to happen to Jerry while he’s out there. I would just really, really feel sorry for the guy who’s too good with a knife. I would just hate to be that guy, should his knife somehow end up in the wrong person's back… Know what I mean?”

Heat turned to cold within Spy’s heart, not because he felt like he was in danger, he knew he wasn’t, but just at the implication that he would ever stoop that low.

He… He never… he would never admit that Scout was his, he just never felt like he was, not when Charlotte had been to one to raise him, care for him, love him… That wasn’t to say he’d deny that Scout came from him, he did, but… but to call himself his father just felt… wrong. Albert was more deserving of that title than he was, Heavy, Engineer, hell, Medic was more deserving, not him, never him. Only recently did that truth begin to weigh on his heart, begin to make it feel heavy with regret, remorse, pain…

That was stupid of course, after all, everything he’d done, he’d done to himself, and his current standing with Scout, well, that was his fault too. Every rude comment, every eye roll, every dismissive glance or remark, that had all been from him, and he’d meant it all, he hadn’t thought twice, he just… They just didn’t mix well, their natures, their souls, who they were was just so polarly opposite that Spy just… didn’t know what else to do, other than simply be who he always was when in the presence of someone he didn’t particularly like.

However, that did not mean he thought so little of Scout, that did not mean that Scout wasn’t his friend, not his son, never his son, but still his friend. Yes, they were different, yes, more often than not they were on each other's nerves, yes, he thought the boy was immature, sloppy, loud, crude, annoying, and many, many other unflattering adjectives, but they were still friends. They shared a common goal, they shared a family, they shared in the highs and lows this job gave them, the victories, the defeats, the fear, the excitement, the hate, the joy, all of it.

He was not that cowardly, he was not that low, he was not that evil, he would never think of killing someone who was, in the end, family, maybe not the family they could’ve been, but still family. It was true he didn’t like him, it was true he didn’t get along with him, it was true he always insulted him, but that did not mean he didn’t love him. They had understanding, they had respect for one another… kinda… they would defend one another, fight for one another, kill for one another.

Never in his life had he been a good man to Scout, never had he been kind enough, compassionate enough, gentle enough, patient enough, but that did not mean he hated the boy! That did not mean he wanted the young man dead! His friend, his teammate… his family… Once upon a time he would’ve been so cruel, once upon a time he had been selfish enough to kill those he claimed to well and truly care for in order to keep himself safe, but that was decades ago, and damn it all, he wasn’t that man anymore! He would never be that man again! He didn’t care how others viewed him, let them call him harsh, let them call him cruel, cold, and uncaring, but he would not be seen as a murderer of his own flesh!

Strange… When did that start to matter? Yes, he wanted people to think highly of him, but not when it came to his morals, that had never bothered him… Why did that bother him now?

“I would never.” Spy just barely managed to say in quiet horror, never before having felt this way in all his years of life. It was a strange feeling, one that he just didn’t have a word for. It hurt, it felt like shame, but it was deeper, so much deeper. Albert was looking at him like he was nothing, less than nothing, and it hurt to be viewed so, so lowly, which was strange, because he wasn’t supposed to care what other people thought of him. Why was that changing?

“Sure ya wouldn’t.” Albert agreed with venomous sarcasm, before scoffing to himself and turning away, once again focusing on the plane. “Albert, I wouldn’t.” Spy reiterated, much firmer this time, having found his voice, and nerve, both things he hadn’t lost in some time. “No, course ya wouldn’t,” Albert again agreed, venom lacing every word, “guy like you? Never.”
“Look at me damn you, look me in the eye.” Spy demanded, some mix of fury and desperation starting to seep into his voice as heat once again began to rise within his chest. Albert said nothing in response, he simply smoked quietly, appearing completely unfazed by their interaction, as if Spy wasn’t even there.

Spy’s first instinct was to grab the younger man and force him to meet his eye, to scream at him, to make him believe him. Instead, his whole body heated up in anticipation for this movement, but he did nothing. It wouldn’t prove anything to do that, it wouldn’t make him see, it would do nothing but make him look like a fool, so instead, he took a long drag of his cigarette, and looked out the windshield into the sky, trying to find the words needed to articulate to this man that he wasn’t going to kill his brother.

Neither man said anything for a long time, seconds turning to minutes, each coming slower than the last, all while Spy simply continued to breathe, in, and out, in, and out, in, and out…

In, and out.

Until finally, his heart could take it no more.

“I am many things,” Spy said coldly, still keeping his eyes on the sky, “and a murderer is most certainly one of them, however, Scout, whether you like it or not, is a part of my family, one way, or another. I care for him, truly I do, and I would never kill him.”
“Right, and I’m supposed to take the word of some cheap, dime’a dozen, backstabbin’ scumbag.” Albert shot back harshly, instantly causing Spy to direct his full attention back onto the younger man, his temper flaring beyond his control.

“What sort of a monster do you take me for! What the hell do I have to do to prove that I’m not your enemy!” Spy snapped furiously, watching as Albert didn’t even blink, “We had our fight, we’ve seen each other for who we are, all is bare between us, yet you refuse to believe me! Believe it or not, I value the lives of my team, all of them, and while I most certainly don’t like you, nor the predicament you have put me in, that does not mean I think so little of Jeremy! He is my family, not my son, not my child, it is far too late for that, but he is still my family, just the same as the rest of my team, and I would die for each and every one of them! You think you’re so much better than me, well you’re not! We are both killers at heart, we are both driven by selfish desire, and we both have blood on our hands, blood which will follow us until the end of our days, so don’t you dare act like you have some moral high ground over me!”

During this speech, Albert's face slowly fell into something darker, a deep anger settling into his eyes as he listened quite intently to everything Spy had to say. Perhaps worst of all, he looked utterly annoyed, yet all the same, he remained still, so terribly, terribly still.

When Spy finished, Albert finally looked at him, truly looked at him, nothing but complete disdain shining in his sky blue eyes, disgust radiating from him like heat from a fire. It didn’t sting, not the way it should have, but Spy still felt it, he felt the hate, the anger, the desire to strike, it was potent in the air, and truly, it was only Charlotte that kept the younger man from killing him then and there. Spy had seen such anger before, he’d been the cause of such anger as well, but this time it felt far more intimate, far deeper, and far, far colder.

Albert then looked away again for a moment in order shake his head to himself, his fury finally reaching it’s boiling point, before he turned back to Spy and snapped angrily, “First of all, I don’t think I’m betta than you, I know I am, and don’t you ever fuckin’ forget that! Second of all, yeah, I got blood on my hands, call it revenge, call it justice, call it karma, doesn’t matter, it’s there, and no, it ain’t goin’ away, but ya know what? That’s ok, I don’t think about it, it don’t keep me up at night, if anything it brings me a sense of peace, knowin’ that I’ve killed pedo’s, knowin’ that I’ve killed vermin, knowin’ I’ve saved a lotta otha gal’s a lotta heartbreak.

“You? Shit man, you’re the type’a guy to drink himself to sleep when the blood on your hands gets too thick, and don’t you fuckin’ deny it. Ya wanna know what keeps me up at night? War, that’s what, the fuckin’ Vietman War, that, and the knowledge that men like you still walk the streets at night, that’s what keeps me up. Knowin’ that that because you got to my Ma first, you’re safe from the justice you oughta be havin’, and you get to keep livin’, free from any fuckin’ consequence.

“Third of all, ya really wanna know what kinda monster I take you for, fine, lemme tell ya. You sir, are the kinda monster who knocks up a single mother of seven kids, leaves her, has the courtesy to send money up until things get too tough for ya, at which point ya go ahead and ditch her all together, cause it’s just too fuckin’ much. That’s the kinda monster I take ya for, and I tell you what, the fact that I’m even havin’ this conversation with you, is pissin’ me the fuck off!

“You should be dead! My bullet should be in your fuckin’ heart! Instead, ya grew a fuckin’ concious- No, fuck that, ya didn’t! Ya happened to run into Jerry on the same freakin’ job, and drinkin’ yourself to sleep wasn’t workin’ anymore, so went and threw yourself at my mothers feet, beggin’ for a release from your guilt, and ya know what! My mother, my mother, gave ya forgiveness, she gave ya release, and she gave ya a second chance, and pal, ya didn’t fuckin’ deserve it! But she’s a saint, and she’s patient, and she’s forgivin’, and she’s calm, and she deserves the fuckin’ world, and she didn’t deserve to have scumbags like you come in and ruin her fuckin’ life!

“Fuck man, you ain’t shit! Ya don’t deserve your peace, ya don’t deserve her forgiveness, ya don’t deserve to have Jerry in your life, because lemme tell ya what, he is a blessing! Yeah, he’s a lot, and he can be a fuckin’ dumbass sometimes, but he is better than the both of us, and one day, he’s gonna be a betta man than you ever were, a betta father too! And man, I hope he’s a betta man than me too, because that will mean I fuckin’ raised him right! You hear me asshole!

“I raised your son, and he’s gonna be betta than all of us!”

…

…

…

He was right, of course, perhaps not about the drinking, Spy had thankfully never fallen that far into alcohol, but he was still right.

…

…

…

What perhaps startled Spy the most about this great display of emotion was the fact that near the end of it, right when Albert had been screaming at him with all he had within him, he had started to cry. It wasn’t that his eyes had started to water, or that a few tears slipped down, his voice had become strained, tears had begun streaking down his face in full force, while his breathing became unsteady, just barely held together. Whatever mask that he always held at his disposal was most certainly broken beyond repair, which left them both here.

Alone together.

…

…

…

Somehow, despite the absolute hurricane that had been thrown at him, Spy remained for the most part unmoved, after all, everything Albert had said was true, and… he knew it. He knew he wasn’t deserving of Charlotte forgiveness, he knew he had been a terrible person to her, he knew that Albert had been there for Scout when he hadn’t been, and he knew that he had every right to hate him. This wasn’t some grand revelation for him, he’d come to terms with all of this…

Though he would be lying if he said he wasn’t moved by the raw emotion that had laced these truths when they were spoken to him.

Charlotte had been angry with him when he’d first reentered her life, she’d been hurt, furious, but… understanding. She hadn’t hated him, she never said it, it never showed in her eyes, she’d been compassionate, which had made things easy, easier than they ever should have been. Yes, it was raw, it was painful, it was tense, but it wasn’t hateful, there was more sorrow than there was anger, which was something Spy hadn’t expected.

This is what he should’ve gotten when he first reunited with Charlotte, but it was far too late for it to have the impact it should’ve had…

However…

He was, for the first time, seeing how he’d hurt that entire family, now that he could actually pay attention to what was being said to him, instead of focusing on staying awake and alive. Granted, he was one of many men who had ruined that family, but he hadn’t needed to be. He could have stayed, it would’ve been easy enough, but… that wasn’t what happened. He’d taken the cowards route, and he’d left them all to rot.

He’d left them all to rot.

“Fuck.” Albert finally said, his voice weak and choked, quickly blinking back his tears, finally realizing they were there at all. When that didn’t work, he quickly wiped at them while turning away, though they still came down, despite his greatest efforts. Spy didn’t say a word, he didn’t give a smug look, he simply sat there, waiting patiently, just thinking about what Medic would do in this situation. This was a different type of calm than he was used to, this was the calm after the storm… a calm he usually ran away from, after all, where was the joy in cleaning up after a hurricane?

“Fuck.” Albert said again, quieter this time, a bit more broken than before, a stifled sob making itself known in the otherwise quiet room. Spy again did, and said, nothing, for there was nothing he could do to offer this man comfort, not with their history. He wanted to, truly he did, he wanted to tell him it was ok, he wanted to tell him this was normal, he wanted to put a comforting hand on him, he wanted to apologize for all he had done to his family, he wanted to do something, anything… but he literally couldn’t.

That made him feel worse than everything the younger man had just said to him, that understanding that whatever between them was so, irreversibly broken, that he couldn’t even give a kind word without making things worse.

Right at that moment, right when all finally felt clear in his mind, Spy vowed that he would never make another hate him this much ever again, well, save for the old bastards, but that well and truly was completely different.

Seconds once again turned to minutes, though this time it didn’t take nearly as long. During this time, Albert did his best not to cry, did his best to hide his anguished sobs, though he failed pretty miserably, all while Spy simply waited, his heart calm, his mind accepting, his soul understanding. He waited until Albert finally quieted, finally stopped trembling, his breathing finally returning to normal, save a stray hitched breath or two, before he quietly finished his cigarette, tossing the butt aside, not caring about littering on government property.

Then, Spy sighed quietly to himself, and turned back towards Albert, who had yet to turn back to him, probably completely embarrassed if Spy were to make an educated guess. After a moment of thought, Spy finally found the words he needed, and with surprising softness, he said, “Albert, I swear to you, I will let no harm befall your brother.” Albert said nothing in response, he didn’t even move, but that was ok, Spy hadn’t expected him to. “Your distrust of me is understandable, and I respect it, and I respect where it comes from, but I need you to know that I will do everything in my power to keep Jeremy safe, and that I will not lay a cruel hand upon him.”

There was a pause, just a short one, before Albert finally turned back and faced Spy, his eyes weary and bloodshot, though the rest of his expression was firm, still radiating with hate and fury, though not nearly as intense. “Sure ya won’t.” Albert whispered in sarcastic agreement, before flashing his crooked smile, some mix of a laugh and a sob escaping him as he simply took a drag of his cigarette, once again shaking his head.

“I won’t.” Spy swore again, patiently this time, new understanding and respect growing within his heart. If this showed within his voice, Albert said nothing about it, instead simply nodding to himself as he looked out the windshield, a more thoughtful expression resting on his face, though what he was thinking about was beyond Spy.

The younger man then glanced back at Spy, studying him, reading him, before turning his full attention to him, any and all sarcasm well and truly gone from him, now replaced with something far more grave. He then leaned forward in his seat, and with the slightest smile, a cold one at that, he asked, “Ya ever hear about the story of the Scorpion and the Fox? Ya don’t look like ya have, so lemme tell it:

“Long ago, in some olden time land, there was a fox, and the fox was lookin’ to cross a river. When it got close, a scorpion hailed it, sayin’, ‘Hey, I need to get across, ya mind givin’ me a lift?’
‘Whaddya nuts?’ the fox says, ‘You’ll just sting me!’
‘Nah, that’d be stupid!’ the scorpion protests, ‘I’d be killin’ us both if I did that, makes no sense!’

“The fox thinks this over for a moment, then finds that the statement is logical, and lets the scorpion on its back, and begins to start swimmin’ across the river. Well, about halfway across, the scorpion suddenly stings the fox, doomin’ ‘em both to a watery grave.

“‘What the hell!’ the fox cries out in its dying breath, ‘You’ve just killed us both, why’d ya do that!’
‘Because,’ says the scorpion, ‘I’m a scorpion, it's what I do, it’s what I’ve always done, so why not do it now?’”

Albert’s smile then grew slightly, the anger in his eyes shining brilliantly as he leaned back into his seat, now relaxing as he let a shaky sigh escape him, officially releasing all his previous tensions. “So ya see,” he then explained coldly as he exhaled some more smoke, “I ain’t exactly keen on the idea of sendin’ my brother off with a fuckin’ scorpion, especially one that’s stung this family before, just seems… stupid.” Spy wished he could argue, wished he could defend himself, wished he could say it wasn’t true… but it was, and he knew it.

“See, here’s the thing,” Albert continued coldly, his eyes still shining their message of hate, “I wanna be there with you guys, I wanna make sure my brother stays safe, I wanna keep a very close eye on you, but I can’t, and that’s one’a the problems of bein’ all grown up. He’s got his life, I got mine, and our paths just don’t always intersect anymore, and more often than not, that means I don’t know what’s goin’ on in his life, cause Jerry ain’t that good at keepin’ in touch, just is who he is. Normally, that doesn’t bother me so much, but it’s botherin’ me right now somethin’ fierce, and you know damn well why. Well, since I can’t be around to keep him safe, all I can do is do my best to mitigate his chances of gettin’ him hurt, startin’ right now.

“Pal, if you kill him, or hurt him, or let anything foul happen to him that could hinder him learnin’ the truth about you, I will kill you. I don’t mean I’m gonna just shoot ya either, nah, that’d be too quick, I’m gonna make it slow, really. Fuckin’. Slow. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to leave that sock on your head, I got some respect, for the trade at least. Anyhow, I digress, first things first, I’m gonna peel back the skin on your arms with a fuckin’ spoon, let ‘em bleed, let’em be open, let ‘em hurt, then I’m gonna find some ants, don’t matter what kind, they’ll all do the same. I’ll let ‘em start eatin’ ya, they’ll take their time, got tiny mouths an’ all, so I’ll just wait for them to git their fill.

“Once they’re done, I’m gonna make sure you're real tightly secured, before I get some hot ass grease, and set it up right above your head, but it won’t fall, it’ll never fall, instead it’ll drip, very slowly, right between your eyes. Not sure how I’ll keep it heated, but I got time to figure that out, and I bet all my other brothers could come up with some crazy ideas. Anyway, I’ll let that go till it runs out, at which point-”

A sudden beeping sound coming from one of the controls instantly caught Albert's attention, causing him to completely turn away from Spy, not that Spy was particularly complaining about that. “Hold that thought.” Albert ordered with a surprisingly normal tone compared to what he previously had, as he began to mess with the controls, now paying very close attention to the plane and all its readings. Spy just blinked in response, most certainly experiencing whiplash, before remembering how to breathe properly again, not having realized he’d stopped.

Upon remembering to breathe, he just stared at Albert for a moment, knowing damn well he should just hold his peace until he was finished, but instead suddenly feeling rather upset, not at the threat per say, but just at the fact that the younger man had just stopped his monologue and was now acting like he wasn’t in the room. That did two things, it both rubbed his ego the wrong way, and it pissed him off. It pissed him off a lot, not because Albert deemed him suddenly unimportant, but that he left him hanging in this horrible limbo of not knowing what this idiot was planning on doing to him should his brother somehow die.

Once these thoughts had settled within his mind, Spy then gave a quick, bewildered laugh, and said in a very curt tone, “Why yes, I shall hold that thought. I shall sit here and think about the fact that I must listen to you go on about how you’re going to slowly torture me to death, all while refusing to listen to what I’m saying, nor acknowledging me as a man who has changed. I would love to do that right now, truly I would, but I am afraid that this sudden rudeness is simply too much for me, and-”

“Look, I’d be pissed too, but I need to focus right now, we got two bogeys tailin’ us and I gotta figure out why.” Albert quickly explained as he made adjustments to the plane, quickly discarding his cigarette butt as he did so, all his hate, all his anger, and all his disdain gone, as if they’d never existed in the first place.

Bogeys? What the heck was a bogey?

“We have what tailing us?” Spy asked, instantly losing his nasty tone, and not feeling good about their situation upon seeing the mild concern on Albert's face. “Unidintified aircraft,” Albert explained, also dropping any and all resentment towards Spy, for the moment anyway, “two smaller birds, probably fighter aircraft based on the formation. I’d normally say it’s the Aussies military, but I ain’t anywhere I ain't supposed to be, and I made sure this was scheduled with all the proper authorities.”

That… Oh no…

“So then who is it?” Spy asked worriedly, suddenly wishing planes had rearview mirrors, which was not a thought he’d ever think he’d have. “What part of ‘unidentified’ did you not understand?” Albert shot back, now paying extra attention to the radar, causing Spy to do so as well. Sure enough, two smaller dots were steadily approaching them on either side, until eventually, they stopped approaching, simply cruising right behind them while maintaining their current speed.

“Alright, I’ma need ya to be real quiet for a minute, I’m gonna make contact.” Albert ordered as he reached for his radio, quickly changing the frequency as he did so. He then closed his eyes, and took in a long, deep breath, holding it for a moment, before releasing an equally long sigh, letting go of all his previous tensions, anger, and hate, before opening his eyes again, everything about him now appearing oddly official. Amazingly, Spy had forgotten that Albert was a military officer, and not just some random man who could fly a plane. In truth, he admired the way the man was able to switch his attitude so quickly, and he respected the fact that he knew when to stop holding grudges when the time called for it.

That was actually a skill he needed to work on himself…

“Attention unidentified aircraft, this is Captain Albert Willis of the United States Airforce, I’m gonna ask you to identify yourselves, and state your business tailin’ my plane, over.” Albert announced into the radio, his tone flat, even, and serious, his expression showing the same. “Captain?” Spy marveled, both at the fact that he’d gotten that far at such a young age, and at the fact that if Albert had wanted to, he very easily could have turned him in with no problem whatsoever. “Zip it.” Albert swiftly ordered, not to be rude, but simply because he was too focused to answer questions.

Silence followed his initial call over the skies, a terrible, uneasy silence, before he once again called over the radio, “I repeat, this Captain Albert Willis of the United States Airforce, I am asking you to identify yourselves, unidentified aircraft, over.” Again, silence. This time though, Albert nodded to himself, before going to make some visual cues with the plane itself, saying out loud to no one in particular, “Maybe their radios busted, or maybe I hit the wrong frequency, either way…”

Then, at last, a voice crackled over the radio, and with a ridiculously thick Australian accent, the voice of a man said, “G’day mate! This is the Australian Airforce, and I am ‘ere to inform ya that you’re currently over restricted airspace, and need to leave.”

Both Albert and Spy just stared at the radio for a long, long moment, neither one quite believing that what they heard was real. They then looked at each other in bewilderment, with Spy simply giving a shrug, before Albert once again picked up the radio and said, “Uh, I’m afraid that doesn’t clarify our current standings, nor have you told me who you are, so again, I am askin’ you to identify yourself, over.”
“Just did mate,” the voice stated again, sounding robotically friendly, and far too calm, “I am a member of the Australian Airforce, and I am askin’ ya to leave this space, and find landin’ elsewhere.”

Albert just blinked, then thought their interaction over, clearly puzzled, then blinked again, before he shook his head in order to clear his thoughts and replied with, “Look, pal, I need your name and rank, and I need a reason as to why I’m not allowed to land. I spoke with your commanders two days ago, and this was the route I was given. I’m currently en route to Vietnam for a routine supply delivery, and this is one of my refuel sites. Why is this space restricted, and why wasn’t I informed about it earlier, over.”

This was met with yet another, long, long bout of silence, which saw Spy and Albert waiting tensely for something to happen, neither one looking at each other, simply fixated on the radar. A few minutes later, the voice came through again, and again, it repeated with that mechanically friendly tone, “I am a member of the Australian airforce, and I am askin’ ya to leave this space, and find landin’ elsewhere.” At this, Albert just nodded to himself, before reaching into his bomber jacket, and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, quietly lighting one as he thought over the next best move, starting to get a far too… Scout like glint in his eye for Spy’s liking.

“Yeah right, Australian Airforce my ass…” he muttered to himself, before once again going onto the radio, this time saying in a borderline threatening tone, “Listen, because you have failed to identify yourself and give me your proper ranks, I will be ignorin’ you and your request until I get proper identification. At this point, I am going to ask you to stop tailin’ me before this turns into somethin’ bigger than it needs to be, over.” Albert then leaned back into his chair, taking a slow drag as he did so, waiting with great intrigue for their followers' response.

They didn’t have to wait long.

“Now hold on ‘ere mate,” the voice crackled over the radio, any and all friendliness it had now replaced with hostility, “ya can’t do that, ya need to find landin’ elsewhere, else we’re gonna have to take you outta the sky.” Despite the threat, Spy remained calm, after all, Albert was calm, and Albert knew what he was doing. Although, his heart did quicken upon not seeing Albert do anything for a solid two minutes, simply sitting quietly while mulling over… something. He didn’t look scared, he didn’t look worried, he didn’t even look bothered, and yet… it seemed as though whatever he was thinking about weighed heavily upon him.

Then, Albert blinked, and to Spy’s sheer, utter, absolute horror, he saw a glint in his eyes that made him realize something he should have realized a long, long time ago.

This wasn’t just Scout’s older brother, oh no, this was the man who raised Scout.

He was part of the reason Scout was the way he was.

This man had proven himself somewhat crazy.

And he was flying the plane.

“Ok then.” Albert said without a care in the world, something in his tone promising something big was about to happen, which caused Spy to put on his seatbelt, and fasten it securely. “Ya wanna play it that way, fine, let’s play it that way, I can play that way, hell, I love playin’ it that way.” Albert then got over the intercoms in the plane, and ordered in the most militaristic tone Spy had ever heard come out of the man, “Attention gentlemen and Pyro, we have two unidentified, hostile aircraft currently tailin’ us, and it’s about to turn into a bit of an altercation. For your own safety, I am orderin’ that ya get into the van, and don’t exit until I tell ya to. I will not be askin’ again, and you have two minutes to do so before things get hairy.”

“Wait, can I use that for a moment?” Spy asked, feeling his heartrate start to increase as his whole body began to heat from anticipation for whatever was about to happen. Albert just gave a quick nod, before handing the mic over to Spy and quickly starting to make several adjustments to the plane. “Sniper, if you can hear me, get to the front of your van, now,” Spy ordered quickly, feeling a sweat beginning to break on the back of his neck, “doctor, if he hasn’t heard me, get him to the front of the van. The rest of you, hold tight, I will be back there once this all clears.”

“The fuck? Nonono, you’re goin’ back there with ‘em pal,” Albert declared while flipping several switches, “the last thing I need is you screamin’ in my ear, and causin’ me to git distracted, I need my whole focus on this plane, and none on you.”
“I respect your need for focus and dedication, but I’m staying right here so I can see exactly what’s going on.” Spy replied firmly, watching as Albert blew out a tremendous amount of smoke through gritted teeth while shaking his head, clearly not liking that idea at all.

However, instead of arguing, instead of snapping, he turned to Spy, and with the absolute, bare minimum respect in his eyes, he conceded, “Ok, because you are your team's leader, I’ll let ya stay, but only for that reason, but pal, I need you to not say a word to me, am I understood?”
“Yes, yes you are understood, I will not say another word.” Spy promised gravely, fearing the glint in Albert's eye, and fearing the very real terror present within them too. This man was about to do something very stupid, very bold, and very, very impulsive, and there was absolutely nothing Spy could do to stop him. Dare he think it, the man looked eager to get his underway, despite the very serious tone he was trying to get across.

“Oh, you will, just make sure you don’t say anythin’ to me, ok?” Albert replied with a crooked smile, before letting out a wary laugh and saying, “See, we uh… we’re gonna be movin’ around a lot, like uh, a lot a lot, so… yeah, we’ll both be sayin’ some things.”
“Can’t we just return fire? Shoot them once they get into our sights?” Spy asked, now truly beginning to understand that they were in quite a bit of trouble. “Uh… no,” Albert replied flatly, his smile only growing as that manic glint in his eyes shone brighter and brighter, causing Spy’s heart to sink, “cause uh, well ya see pal… this bird ain’t got any guns, she’s a cargo plane.”

Welp, this was it, they would all die in a great ball of fire as it hurdled to the ground, and Miss Pauling would kill them all in hell.

Fantastic.

With that Albert did one final check over his controls, fastened his own seatbelt, then, much to Spy’s surprise, he paused, closed his eyes, and leaned back into his chair, breathing steadily as he did so, all that manic energy leaving him as his whole being calmed. His breaths were deep, slow, and very, very intentional, that wild look in his eye, that crooked smile, the nervous energy, all were now gone from him, only his breathing remained. In, and out, that was all, a mantra Spy had done himself a million times, in, and out, to calm the mind, to steady the heart, to prepare the soul, in, and out,

In, and out.

In, and out.

In, and out.

In…

Albert then opened his eyes, that wild, Scout-like look now gone, all of that energy now sharpened and focused into purpose, into action, into determination. There was a plan in place, wild and impossible though it was, a plan did exist, and somehow, against all odds, Albert had to pull it off.

No, he was going to pull it off, and Spy was going to witness the impossible… again.

“Alright, here we go.” Albert announced quietly to himself, his voice crackling with giddy anticipation, before taking a hold of the radio one last time, and turning it on. Then, in a voice colder than death itself, Albert said this, “Attention unidentified aircraft, your threat has been heard, it has been processed, and it will now be ignored. You have failed to identify yourselves, you have failed to tell me why this space is restricted, and you have failed to give me any reason to respect you as any sort of military officer, which I highly doubt you are.

“If you continue to go through with your threat, it will end badly for you, so I’ma give you one last chance to git your sorry, disgraceful, cowardly, motherfuckin’ ass outta my airspace before I send you boys to an early grave. Man, I tell you what, grass grows, birds fly, sun shines, and brother, I kill people, and I’ve gotten really fuckin’ good at it, so you best listen to my advice, before I fuckin’ kill you too… over.”

For the next ten seconds, only the hum of the plane could be heard, but for everyone on the plane, it might as well have been years. Each second that passed saw Albert's energy grow and grow, waiting for something, anything, his breathing all but stopped, his body tense, his cigarette all but hanging from his mouth. Meanwhile Spy’s heart continued to sink within his chest, every second bringing him a new revelation about their situation, and another way they would surely die, all because trusting Scout’s older brother had been such a wonderful idea.

Then, the eleventh second came, and with it, came war.

First the sound of gunfire, muffled though it was, erupted from behind them, all while the plane shook from the impact, but didn’t falter. Spy simply gripped his seat in response, which turned out to be the best possible thing he could’ve done, because the next thing he knew Albert began to pull up, sending the plane flying upwards towards the heavens. He wanted to ask what he was doing, he wanted to scream that he was insane, he wanted to radio his team and check on them, but he remained silent, just gritting his teeth and wishing he’d lit a cigarette before this had happened.

As they began to climb, the gunfire behind them ceased for a moment, before both enemy planes roared past them, soaring into the sky before quickly circling back, and flying straight at them, their fire instantly continuing. When Spy looked for Albert for any sign that they would be ok, all he saw was a manic, wild look in his eyes, with his crooked smile now the biggest he’d ever seen. Spy then decided to just close his eyes and hold onto his seat tighter, realizing that there was absolutely nothing anyone could do if the cockpit happened to get hit.

“C’mon ya sons’a bitches, c’mon, ya ain’t got the fuckin’ balls!” Albert jeered, his voice practically vibrating with insanity, before the plane shook once again, and the sound of the fighter planes soaring past deafened them for a moment. In response to this, Albert just gave a triumphant cry, laughing hysterically in between mocking taunts. “You call that shootin’?!? HAHAAAA!!! You couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn if your life depended on it, and trust me pal, it fuckin’ does! WHOOOOO!!!!”

Reluctantly, Spy opened his eyes again, staring in sheer horror at the orangeish, purplish sky ahead of them, his heart, stomach, and every other organ in his body crammed up into his throat as he tried to make room for air. Actually, he felt rather dizzy, and though he knew a cigarette would help, he just couldn’t bring himself to let go of his seat. In fact, he was just starting to realize that maybe he didn’t like planes at all, and that maybe they should’ve just taken a boat.

Suddenly, everything went quiet, the humming of the plane, the screeching of alarms that signaled something was hit, and… the sound of air… rushing… past them…

Spy blinked, the sudden silence seeming far too surreal, before looking at Albert, who was just sitting in his seat, smoking his cigarette with a satisfied expression… his hands no longer on any of the controls, after all, why would he need them?

The engines had been turned off.

“What did you do?” Spy croaked out, surprised at how utterly mortified his own voice sounded, before his heart, and every other organ in his body, plummeted within him as the feeling of the plane starting to fall overtook every other sense within him. “Wha’d I tell ya about talkin’ to me while I was flyin’?” Albert asked as the plane began to fall back down to the earth below, “I can’t focus if I got ya talkin’ to me, you’re just too distractin’, though honestly, that’s something I gotta work on, cause it ain’t good for my work.”

Spy, despite his dignity, despite the image he wanted so desperately to uphold, despite everything he believed about himself, held himself to, and demanded of himself, began to scream bloody murder.

Honestly though, who wouldn’t?

“See, here’s what I’m thinkin’,” Albert explained as he began to steer the plane around, making it so that the nose was now facing the ground, “these guys don’t know shit about flyin’, otherwise we’d be dead. They’ve had two opportunities to shoot us outta the sky, after all, we’re sittin’ ducks, and they’ve barely scratched us. Shit man, if we were facin’ real military folks, we’d be dead. Instead, we got these assholes, which makes me think that his Gray fella you were tellin’ me about put up some shitty as defense system… that also tells me that he may or may not have some control over the Aussies, same way he’s got control over some of the army.”

Spy wasn’t paying attention to this, he was too busy screaming.

“Man, you really pissed off some smart ass billionaire, didnthca? Too bad he’s too cheap to hire actual pilots, he probably just got the first few hillbillies who needed money, gave ‘em a quick flyin’ class, then sent ‘em off to intimidate anyone who could git in his way, like us! Makes me wonder if he knows you’re in the plane with me, or if he thinks this the actual US military, in which case, it’d probably just be smarter to let us stop and refuel… Unless he’s doin’ somethin’ real big on the ground, in which case, you guys are gonna need all the help you can get.”

Ground. There was ground beneath them. Hard, green, lush ground.

Somehow, without him ever realizing it, they’d made it to Australia, they’d actually done it, and this was how Spy got to see it for the first time, while plummeting to his death.

It felt like it’d taken them nearly a year to get here, yet… there it was, there was Australia… and this was how he got to see it.

While plummuting to his death.

“Ya know what though? I ain’t complainin’, the ground shit’s your work, I just gotta git ya there,” Albert continued, now starting to steer the plane again, “which means takin’ out these assholes, and pal, that’s easy, cause if they’re as stupid as I think they are, they’re not gonna know what to do.”

Then, the plane began to spin, and spin, and spin, until Spy could see nothing at all, and for a moment, everything went black.

He could hear Albert saying something, kinda, not really, he was aware that the only thing keeping him in place was his seatbelt, and that otherwise he was practically floating, and that the world had become one, great big blur. It was such an odd feeling, like he was flying, no, like he was in some weird, very real dream, and all he could do was sit there and let it play out. It was almost peaceful, oddly quiet, nice even, but it wasn’t supposed to be nice, so then, what was it? Odd, that’s what, very, very odd.

This ended abruptly when the entire plane shook violently, and the sound of an explosion nearly deafened them.

With a yelp Spy was awake again, and just in time to see a fire ball erupt in front of them, all while Albert cried out in disappointment. “Damn it all! I missed one!” he shouted, quickly trying to straighten out the plane, while Spy tried not to puke. “Fuck all, that lucky bastard! He was right fuckin’ there! Didn’t even fuckin’ move, it’s like these guys aren’t even human!”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!?” Spy shrieked as the plane finally became centered, at which point Albert began to frantically turn on the plane again, that wild look in his eye now showing some real, genuine terror, still mixed with a healthy dose of crazed excitement. “Shut up and lemme work!” Albert shouted as the plane sprang back to life, before Albert instantly began to pull up, slowly, yet surely bringing them back from their nosedive. It was then that Spy realized just how close to the ground they were, and just how close to Australia he really was.

“C’mon baby, c’mon baby, c’mon, c’mon…” Albert desperately pleaded with the plane, “You can do this, you got this, c’mon baby! We got this! This ain’t how we fuckin’ die, not today! Fuck off, we’re gonna survive this! Fuck off, not like this! NOT LIKE THIS MOTHERFUCKA!!!”

It felt like flying, but for all Spy knew, they were dying.

Still, they were pulling up, slowly, steadily, not nearly fast enough, but they were pulling up.

Australia… it was right there… right in front of them… hundreds of thousands of feet away, and quickly getting closer…

Then it was tens of thousands of feet away…

Thousands of feet…

Hundreds…

It was the strangest feeling in the world when the finally began to ascend rather than descend, it was quick, and was stomach lurching, and it was enough to effectively knock the wind out of Spy. Just like that, just when everything had seemed over, they were once again flying, and they were getting higher, and higher, and higher, and higher. In an instant Spy realized that everything was back to normal within him, he could breath, he could think, he could feel, he could see, in fact, this feeling was so euphoric that he began to laugh, to scream, to cry to the heavens, after all, he was alive, and had just looked death in the eyes, again!

Albert did the same, whooping and hollering as they soared higher, and higher, and higher, all their woes forgotten, all their fears abandoned, only knowing that there was air in their lungs, and that the setting sun was illuminating them in their hour of brilliance. This is what it was to be alive, this is what it was to live, this is what it was to overcome, and nothing could ever take that from them now that they had felt it.

They were not enemies at that moment, they were two men who had survived the most stupid, ridiculous, incredible stunt either one of them had ever been a part of, and they were celebrating as two men who were living. Damn it all, they were alive, and they were about to make that everyone's problem, and they would scream their triumph until kingdom come, and nothing, nothing would ever stop them!

Alas, nothing ever lasts forever, even such a feeling as invincibility is fickle.

Gunfire once again erupted from behind them, once again rocking the plane as now only one fighter plane roared past them, once again causing alarms to blare throughout the cockpit, causing both men to sober up and remember that they weren’t out of the woods yet.

Spy turned to Albert to ask him what the next best move was, but paused when he saw a more somber expression on his face, as he once again thought over… something. This was different than the first time he’d dawned this look, much different, something about him just seeming far more worried. It made Spy realize that maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t be landing the plane after all.

Albert then took in a quick inhale, before once again forcing the plane to climb higher into the sky, nervously looking ahead for the enemy plane, and bracing once he got eyes on it. “C’mon… C’mon, just a bit higher, just a bit higher…” he muttered to himself quietly, flinching as gunfire erupted, and the plane once again shook… Only this time, a small explosion sounded from the left wing.

“FuuuuUUUCK!!!” Albert shouted as he tried to do some damage control, forcing them higher still, before another bang sounded from the left wing, instantly causing Albert to level out the plane as he made another series of adjustments. He was worried, but not panicked, not yet, and that was enough to give Spy hope.

That was until Albert paused, a look of understanding now crossing his face, along with real, genuine worry, the kind Spy had seen a million times before on men who realized they would never see a sunset again. However, this was only for a moment, before the younger man simply released some smoke, looked at him, and flashed his crooked smile, his eyes shining with bittersweet determination, as if all his worries had been a figment of Spy’s imagination.

“Look, this ain’t me sayin’ I’m gonna die,” Albert swore, truly meaning every word, “but this is me sayin’ that you need to get back to the van right now, cause uh, this ain’t gonna be a smooth landin’, and if Gray’s goons show up, I don’t want Jerry to be there.” Spy swallowed, and he swallowed hard, after all, this was goodbye.

That, and they were about to use that freaking parachute on the van.

“Git the fuck outta here man, I’ma make a few more adjustments, then I’ll make sure you guys are secure and uh… I’ll apologise to Sniper as well, hehe…” Albert said with a strange confidence as he turned back to the controls, once again ignoring Spy’s presence. Spy wanted to say something, he wanted to leave with some meaningful words, but there was nothing he could say that would have any meaning to the younger man, but again, that was his own fault.

Instead, he nodded solemnly, and with true respect, true understanding, and true gratitude, he simply said, “Merci, Albert… Merci.” With that, Spy quickly got up, and stumbled out of the cockpit, half hoping Albert would die in the crash, half hoping he would live. In the end though, he was glad to have met the man, and he was glad to have been challenged, confronted, even changed. He’d needed it, he’d needed it more than he would ever admit, and one day, maybe, in the far future, he would learn to appreciate Albert for pushing to be more honest with Scout… maybe.

For now, he resented him for it, but he would always respect him, and all he had done for Charlotte and Jeremy.

Before he could leave though, the sound of Albert's voice called to him one last time, saying, “Oh, spook, remember how ya knocked Jerry cold this mornin’?” Spy stopped at the door, and turned back, surprised to find Albert still wasn’t looking at him, and suddenly not liking his cocky tone of voice. “Yeah, ten months, now ya gotta tell him in ten months, ok pal?”

Spy’s respect for him instantly shattered, his rage flaring, the urge to protest, scream, and strangle this arrogant bastard all at once flooding like a tsunami. Alas, the shaking of the plane as gunfire once again erupted forced him to pause in this action, realizing that either he could fight Albert and die in the crash, or accept this fate and go back to the van. One day he would learn to respect him again, one day, but in the meantime, he had none, and he would figure out how to beat the crap out of Albert another day.

Yes, one day that arrogant prick would pay for his idiocracies, one day, but for now…

“FUCK YOU!” he shouted as he turned and began to run back to the van, cursing the entire time he went, struggling to keep balance as the plane shook and rattled forward, a cocktail of panic and fury not helping the situation one bit. “Fuck you, you arrogant bastard, I hope you rot in hell! I hope that you die in this God awful plane! I hope that whatever hell is waiting for you is worse than mine! You miserable, meddling, God forsaken bastard!”
“Goodbye, sayonara, chao, smell ya later!” Albert called out from the cockpit, before laughing somewhat hysterically to himself, even as Spy got out of hearing range

It didn’t take long to get to the van, and before he entered it, Spy made sure to collect himself, and remind himself that two months was nothing in the grand scheme of things, and that he was just being petty. Once he was certain he had himself under control, Spy flung open the doors to the van, loaded up, and shut them, making sure they were very, very secure, before turning and facing his team.

“Is Al ok? What’s goin’ on? Who’s shootin’ us? Are we crashin’? We ova land or water?” Scout instantly asked, suddenly right up in Spy’s face, completely overwhelming him. “Get out of my face!” Spy ordered as he shoved him back, not roughly, just enough to give him space, “And yes, your brother is fine, he’s actually-”

There was then a quick knock on the outside of the van, before Albert said, “Jerry? You hear me pal?”
“Yeah, yeah I hear ya!” Scout quickly replied, shoving Spy back so that he could be closest to the door. “Good, now listen, and I mean fuckin’ listen,” Albert ordered as he re-secured the parachute to the van, “you guys are about to enter some deep shit, and I mean deep fuckin’ shit, so you need to have your head on straight, ya hear? You’re a smart guy Jerry, really fuckin’ smart, but you need to focus, ok? Take care’a yourself, take care’a your team, keep ya head on a fuckin’ swivel, ok?”

“Yeah, I hear ya, Al, I hear ya, but what abo-”
“Ain’t you worry about me, I’m fuckin’ great! I’ve survived worse, and you fuckin’ know it, this aint’ shit! You listen to me now, ok? You fuckin’ listen!

“Jerremy, you’re smart, you’re good, you’re brave, and you are the best guy in that fuckin’ van, ya hear? Don’t ever think otherwise, ok? You’re great, you’re fuckin’ great, and I fuckin’ love that I’m your brother, and don’t you ever doubt that, ok? I love you, Ma loves you, we all love you, and ya need to stop fuckin’ doubtin’ that, ok? Ok?”

Scout swallowed hard, really hard, before blinking rapidly a few times, taking a few quick breaths and saying in a surprisingly choked up voice, “Yeah, yeah I hear ya, Al, I hear ya… I love you too man, you’re gonna be ok, promise me you’re gonna be ok, please?”
“Jerry, I’m gonna be fuckin’ great.”

With that, Albert finished re-fastening the parachute, and bid them all farewell, “You boys be safe, alright? Sniper, I’m sorry ‘bout this man, you were right, I shouldnt’ve teased ya, and uh… yeah, you guys be good!” Then, he was gone, and once again only the sound of the plane rattling could be heard, promising nothing but trouble ahead. During that minute of silence, Spy placed a quick hand of assurance on Scout's shoulder, a silent promise that he was there for whatever happened, before quickly making his way back to Medic, and sitting next to him at the small table.

“I think we all need to sit down now.” Spy suggested calmly, though it was more of an order, one which Scout quickly obeyed, tapping his foot anxiously on the ground once he was sat, before Heavy reached over and wrapped his arm around him in a half hug, holding him close like that. “Is he gonna be ok?” Scout asked worriedly, and truly, Spy had never seen the young man look so scared before. He just gave a quiet sigh, before giving just the faintest smile while assuring, “I think so, there’s only one plane left on his tail, and once he’s, uh, ‘landed’, I think-”

Suddenly, the back door to the plane being opened could be heard, before the van began to move. Instantly Spy held onto Medic, holding him close and secure, while Demo and Soldier braced themselves across from them, Heavy held onto Scout, and Pyro quickly stood in the middle of the van, trying to ‘surf’ with the movement. This resulted in him falling flat on his face the second the van left the plane, where he promptly stayed for the remainder of the exit.

It was such a horrible feeling, hurtling through the sky without any sense of rhyme or reason, the sound of the plane getting farther and farther away, all while they just fell, at the mercy of a military grade parachute. No one screamed, no one cried, no one moved, they all just held fast, the only sound being that of Medic, who was whispering feverish prayers while clutching onto Spy. That, and the roaring of air as they fell through it, indifferent to the frightened men in the van.

Just when it seemed it would never end, everything suddenly stopped, and the whole team was lurched in place as the parachute opened, forcing everything, and everyone, to be silent. Strangely enough, the silence seemed so terribly out of place, yet it did promise safety, which was somewhat assuring. Spy’s first thought following the silence was to wonder if the enemy plane would see them and shoot them, though he quickly remembered that if they had been ejected, everything else had been ejected as well, so their enemy shouldn’t be suspicious.

His second thought was more of an action, which saw him draw Medic just a bit closer, before placing an assuring kiss on his head, rubbing his back as he did so in order to try and calm his lover. “Are you ok?” he whispered quietly, listening as the others began to breathe again and talk amongst themselves with nervous laughter. “I will be… just a bit, uh… oh, you know…” Medic assured, leaning closer into Spy as he said this. Spy just gave a relieved sigh in response, before kissing him once more, then carefully getting up, not quite trusting the fact that they were currently in the air.

“I’m going to spend the rest of our descent up front, if anything happens, just call for me.” Spy told his team, who all nodded in understanding, minus Pyro, who gave a weary thumbs up, still face down on the ground. Spy simply rolled his eyes at the sight, before carefully opening the window that connected the back to the front, and making his way through it.

Once he was in, he shut the window, and turned to face Sniper, and to his complete shock, found he was currently leaning out the driver-side window, rifle in hand, aiming at the single enemy fighter still tailing Albert. Spy said nothing, simply watching Sniper intently, ready to grab him at a moment's notice. Seconds later, Sniper fired, and instantly brought himself back into the van, frantically rolling up his window as he did so, and locking the doors.

As he did this, Spy turned and watched the small fighter plane, waiting for its inevitable fall. He didn’t have to wait very long, for roughly ten seconds later, smoke began to billow from its engine, before it started to descend towards the ground, all while Albert continued to glide his own plane safely, truly appearing as though he would make it without any trouble. A part of him was relieved, a part of him wished he would crash in a fiery ball. Remembering that this was Charlotte's son helped him to hope that he would live, and helped him to feel ashamed of his murderous thoughts.

“Good man.” Spy complimented as he put on his seatbelt, before grabbing his cigarettes and lighting one, taking a long, slow drag once it was firmly in his mouth. He then turned to Sniper, who was leaned as far back and low within his seat as he could possibly get, shaking all over, hat firmly over his eyes, and quietly offered him one. After a moment, Sniper did take it with a quaking hand, and somehow managed to light it, being sure to take a very long, very shaky drag of it, all but coughing out the smoke upon releasing the smoke.

“Don’t rush, you’ll only hurt yourself.” Spy stated a bit worriedly, watching as Sniper quickly tried for another drag, only to slow himself about halfway through, letting out a much steadier cloud. The two men then sat in silence as they made their steady descent, just smoking quietly as the ground below got closer and closer. Truthfully, it really wasn’t that bad, just nerve wracking, but with the enemy plane gone, there really wasn’t anything else to worry about.

This made Spy feel much, much better, and despite everything he knew about life, karma, and Murphy's law, he decided to express this feeling out loud, and ignore the little voice within his head that told him not to do that. “Well, that could’ve been worse.” Spy said to no one in particular, just happy that they had all made it out alive and well, and wanting to fill the silence with something other than, well, silence. Unfortunately, the silence was quick to return, as if Spy had said nothing at all, so he just sat there quietly with his good friend, hoping that his presence was enough to provide comfort.

Two seconds later, and the phone he always carried on him began to ring.

There was only one person who ever called him, and she wasn’t one to be ignored.

However, Spy found himself ignoring her, at least for a few seconds, simply staring blankly out the windshield as he contemplated why he’d ever said anything at all in regards to their current state. That, and he was trying to ignore Sniper, who was currently staring at him, simply in shock that his own friend had been so incredibly stupid, his eyes boring through the brim of his hat and right into Spy. Served him right really, he knew better than to comment on their current state of wellbeing, especially when things were going well.

“Fuck. You.”
“Yes, yes I know, I’m sorry.”
“Seirously Spy. Fuck you.”
“I… I know, Mundy, I know.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? We were doing so well, why the fuck would you say that?”
“I… I don’t know, I was feeling good about the fact that we were all alive.”
“Fuck you.”

Eventually, the ringing became too much, and with a deep, utterly dramatic sigh, actually it was more of a groan, Spy picked up, pulled out the antenna, and answered the call.

“Yes, Miss Pauling?” He asked wearily, not caring that he didn’t sound professional, and hoping that whatever it was she had to say wasn’t that big of a deal. “Uh, is this a bad time?” Miss Pauling asked a bit nervously, sounding like her normal, professional self, as if this was just any other mission. “No, no not at all,” Spy replied as he looked down at the ground below, “actually, I have nothing better to be doing right now, seeing as we’ll be landing in Australia in about… oh, I’d say within the next five or so minutes.”

“Really? Huh, looks like Scout’s brother worked out after all, good for you,” Miss Pauling stated with surprise, the sound of paper being flipped through on the other side of the phone making itself known, “will I need to take care of him, or do you think we can trust him for future jobs?”
“Uh, well…”

Sniper instantly lifting his hat and giving Spy the hardest stare he’d ever given him was enough to quell any foul thoughts brewing within his mind, not that he would’ve acted on them, though indulging the thought would’ve been nice. “No, no that won’t be necessary, he might be useful in the future.”

“Perfect, one less thing on my plate,” Miss Pauling declared to herself, the sound of something being scratched off with a pencil being heard on the other side of the phone, “now, do you have a map on hand? I’ve compiled all the Australium locations and am ready to give them to you whenever you’re ready.”
“Not currently, but I’ll be sure to get one as soon as possible.”
“Perfect, I’ll trust you to call me then.”

“Wonderful, will that be all?” Spy asked with the fakest polite tone he could find, watching as Sniper put his hat down over his eyes again and leaned back into his seat. “Almost, I actually have an update on Saxton Hale that you’re going to be interested in.” Miss Pauling said, instantly catching Spy’s full attention, causing him to drop any falsehood he carried towards her. “Really?” he stated, quickly looking over at Sniper to get his opinion, only to be disappointed when he saw him still sitting back with his hat over his eyes. “Pray tell, what the hell is that idiot doing now that Mann co. is no longer his? Or has he sold himself out and put himself in early retirement?”

“Well,” Miss Pauling began to explain, now sounding incredibly tired, disappointed, and irked, all things one should be when talking about Saxton Hale, “it’s actually a rather short, simple, and stupid story…”