A/N: So guys, if you read a bit of my story The Second Scout, you would probably assume that the original Scout I considerably close to the other mercenaries due to some changes by me to the guy's canon/comic personality. This short kinda explores the dependency Scout has in his team. AND also exploring the significance and place of Scout in the team when it comes to how they treat him. Enjoy and I hope this is clear enough for you guys to understand as most of these short/sometimes 2 part stories are based around the First Scout and not Second Scout.

Scout on Ice

(Scout POV)

Okay so I know people say I'm a bit of an idiot sometimes and don't get me wrong, I disagree with them entirely. But even a Scout like me can make some mistakes so it wasn't MY fault I was stuck like this. I had simply been looking for my gun while on the trip to Russia with Heavy. Since when did Mann decide to send all those scrap metal versions of us to Russia?! I wouldn't have had to come all the way to this snowy hell if Grey just stay put! Ugh… My head was already starting to throb in pain. My gun had already sunk down into the icy, deep water of the lake, shards of ice floating near me. I was such an unlucky guy sometimes; I mean I even got impaled by this huge iceberg thingy! It's getting cold; somebody crank the air conditioner up again without permission from Engie? Actually, you know what? I kinda like it. The pain's going away 'cause of it. Kinda like Doc's medigun and anesthesia. Heh, maybe I can sleep this freezing off with a little sleep?

(10 Minutes Later)

The cold is back and along with it was that burning pain piercing through my chest. I had zoned a few minutes ago but seems even sleep can't get my mind off the thought of death. I can't die here! I cannot… WILL NOT die here! I moved my arms forward in a stupid swimming motion. I couldn't feel myself moving again and the cold was numbing the pain in a weird rhythm. It was fast yet agonizing how I would feel numb and suddenly havin' an explosion of pain in my chest. The thought of myself sinking down to the bottom was my motivation to keep moving. If I died I would go out with a bang; not drown in some lake only to be found as a rotten corpse fished out of the deep. Totally not acceptable!

I managed to pull what had been impaling me this whole time out of my chest with a loud, ripping sound. Damn that hurts like hell, I swear it's like being stabbed in the same arrow wound one hundred times in a row by a Sniper's dagger. I finally pulled my body out of the water onto the thin ice. It was still cracked, ready to break with one misplaced step. The stuff was so thin it was already cracking under the pressure of my body. This has to be a dream… I think to myself as the ice cracks again and water seeps through to soak into my gloves yet again. God no… This can't be happening…

"No..." A loud crack resonates through the air.

"SOMEBODY PLEASE!" A few more cracks accompanied the first and spreads along the ice and a duo dressed in red race towards the lake at the distant plea.

"Help…" I breathed out again, voice now hoarse and weak as I tried to stay still. I heard a shout of worry in response to my cries for help. They couldn't see me but at least they could hear me. The water's even redder than before. I'm just gonna wait here… They'll find me I'm sure… I laid my head on the slab of ice I held onto and close my eyes.

(Nobody's POV)

Two men in red; one huge man far above the natural muscle mass of an ordinary man and another much more naturally proportioned yet shorter man stood by him with medical supplies on his back. They had heard the familiar cries of a person in distress; a very, very familiar cry. They rushed to the source of the pleas as fast as their feet could carry them, following barely visible, small footprints in the snow. They saw the lake, with its thin layer of ice and the hole breaking apart the ice into smaller fragments. One man squints his eyes as he looks into the distance. He points to one of the thicker slabs of ice and yells at the bigger man to pay attention. It was a small pool of blood at the very edge that seemed to leave three slide marks, two of them similar to the shape of hands like something had suddenly lost its grip on the slab. If you looked hard enough you could see something else sitting in the pool, soaked in both water and blood. It was a gray cap.

Its owner wasn't there…