It was a bright and brilliant day, with a perfectly cloudless blue sky. The air was hot, hot enough to make Pyro sweat inside their suit even in the shade, and the desert was dry enough to fill their throat with dust. Still, they couldn't complain: the team was making wonderful progress. Their flamethrower had sent countless enemies screaming their way to respawn, and Engie's guns had turned the control point into an impassable death-trap.
As long as that sentry gun stood, victory seemed a sure thing, and Pyro made sure to keep a close eye out for Spies as Engie worked. Their vigilance paid off, as their eyes spotted a distant shimmer, barely visible amid the heat haze. Instantly, their flamethrower roared into life, and they charged forwards. There was a brief sizzling, the scent of roasting flesh burning down into his lungs, and the Spy fell to the floor in a charred, twisted heap.
"Nice goin' partner!" Engie said with a smile.
He held that haunting smile even as blood began to ooze from his mouth, and he pitched forwards into the dry desert sands with a knife embedded in his spine.
Pyro yelped with surprise, and swung their flamethrower at thin air, turning in frantic circles as they fired at nothing. Finally, they came to an exhausted stop, panting heavily in the desert heat. And that was when the heat haze shimmered again.
The Spy stepped out of nowhere, wearing the wide, wild smile you can only wear when your lips and cheeks have been scorched away. He still wore his mask, half-melted to his bubbling skin, looking at Pyro with piercing and empty sockets. When he stepped forwards, his charred skin split, letting out a torrent of ash.
Pyro took a step back. Suddenly they weren't holding their flamethrower anymore. Suddenly, they'd never had it in the first place. That burning Spy was still approaching, with crackling and leisurely footsteps, his mouth pouring smoke, flames dancing in his eye-sockets. Engie looked up at Pyro, his face a shrinking and twisting mass of leather, his roasted eyes melting out from under his goggles. Now the Spy's hands were around Pyro's neck, burning fingers digging into their throat. The desert floor had given away beneath their feet, and the two were falling, falling into darkness at a dizzying speed, freezing air rushing past them, until they landed hard on a heap of charred skin and dusty bones. It took Pyro only a moment to notice the uniforms the bodies were wearing, to recognize their twisted faces, and realize that they were lying amid the remains of their own team.
And when they started to scream, Pyro screamed too.
Pyro awoke face-down in what it took them a few panicked moments to realize was their own bed. Their heart was thumping as though it was trying to escape their rib-cage, and it took a few more moments of shaking and clutching at Mr. Twinklehorn to fully dispel the nightmare. Their face was burning as though they had just stepped in from the desert heat, and sticky sweat drenched their skin. Despite this, cold shivers danced up and down their spine, making them shake fitfully. There was a painful pounding inside their head. This was matched by the swollen, painful feeling in their throat.
It was then that Pyro realized they weren't feeling well at all.
They gave a gurgling sniffle. What remained of their nose was running like a faucet, and they wiped the stream on the sleeve of their pajamas. Their eyes felt heavy and watery, too. With a soft groan they rolled over, giving Mr. Twinklehorn a tight squeeze and pressing a burning cheek (what was left of it) against a fresh expanse of cool pillow, trying their best to get back to sleep. The attempt didn't last long. They couldn't get comfortable, not when they couldn't seem to find a sleeping position that didn't leave them either shivering or soaked in sweat. Their head hurt terribly, and their throat felt like they'd swallowed a mouthful of pins, and their nose was somehow stuffed-up and running like a waterfall at the same time, and gosh, they felt terrible. Their twisted mouth quivered, and their eyes became a touch more watery.
Overall, they wanted their mummy. But she was miles and miles away, waiting for them in a little town in the middle of nowhere. A little town with a large scorch mark where the gas station should have been. A little town they couldn't go back to for quite a while. They sat up, feeling a touch dizzy, and fumbled for the mask that rested on his nightstand. The rubber was cool and familiar against their face.
Thankfully, there was someone else they could go to.
The Engineer always kept a sentry going in his bedroom. At first it had been due to paranoia, the lingering fear that some enemy Spy would come creeping in whilst he was sleeping. As it happened, the two teams had actually settled into an uneasy sort of truce on their off hours, and aside from the odd incident now and again, they left each other alone outside of battle. When killing and dying was a 9 to 5 job, grudges seemed too much like unpaid overtime. But the sentry still remained out of habit, it's gentle bleeping and whirring soothing the Engineer to sleep like no other lullaby could.
His room was dark and quiet, the only sounds his soft snoring, perfectly matching the rhythm of his sentry. A rhythm that was suddenly interrupted by a muffled knocking on his door.
The Engineer blinked blearily, and muttered the faintest curse under his breath as he swung his legs out of bed, and made his way to the door. He picked his wrench off the bedside table on the way. Just in case.
"Just a minute." He breathed, as he fumbled the door open. He was greeted by the sight of Pyro, standing on his doorstep in their all-in-one pyjamas, wrapped in a blanket, clutching a grubby stuffed unicorn, and shivering fitfully. "Oh, Pyro. You okay, son?"
Pyro shook their head, and gave a sniff that rattled their mask slightly.
"Urr drrrnt frrrlll tuurrr grrrrd." They muttered, in the smallest, most pathetic little voice the Engineer had ever heard. They were also swaying slightly, he noticed.
"Got the sniffles, huh? Come in and sit yerself down, and I'll see what I can do to make you feel better."
Pyro gave a slightly more cheerful mumble, and sat down on the bed. The Engineer sat down besides them, and draped an arm across their shoulders. He wasn't entirely surprised when Pyro leaned rather heavily into his arms, and nuzzled a hot, rubbery head onto his shoulder.
"So, where's it hurt?"
"Mrr hrrrd." Pyro gestured to their mask. "Urrnd mrr thrrrt." They added, pointing to their neck.
"Well shoot, that's no fun for anyone." He reached out with the hand that was still made of flesh and blood, and rested it lightly on Pyro's mask. "And I ain't no doctor, but it feels like you're runnin' a temperature too."
Pyro gave a miserable little groan. The Engineer patted them on the head.
"Why doncha make yerself comfortable for a moment? I'll go getcha some water and somethin' for the fever, and if want to stay here tonight 'till you feel better, I daresay I can make room for you. Wouldn't mind the company myself."
Pyro brightened up a touch.
"Rrrly?"
"Sure thing. So long as you don't sneeze fire or nothin'."
"Thrrnks, Urrngrrr."
The Engineer found himself on the receiving end of a crushing hug, albeit one a little less bone-shattering than Pyro's usual greetings. He gave a squeeze back, before disentangling himself, and making his way over to the sink and cabinet in the corner of his room. He poured out a glass of water, and slid a bottle of sickly pink syrup out of the cabinet. The Engineer had always had trouble swallowing pills, not that he was inclined to let anyone but the Medic know about it.
"Here you go." He said, setting the water down on the bedside table. Pyro had made short work of tucking themselves in, and was now shivering slightly under the covers.
"Thrrnk yrr."
"Don't mention it." The Engineer carefully poured out a spoonful of medicine. "Now, I'm afraid you're gonna have to lift up your mask for this."
Pyro nodded, and fumbled with their mask with only the slightest hesitation, rolling it up just far enough to expose a twisted wreck of a mouth. Most of the lips, along with the majority of the left cheek, had been burned away entirely, exposing a set of skewed yellow teeth that looked slightly too large for their mouth. The scraps of lip that remained were swollen and distorted. Above that jagged scar of a mouth were the two raw little holes that were Pyro's nostrils, only a small nub of cartilage remaining of the nose. They were currently dripping rather profusely. The Engineer took in the sight with the faint curiosity of a man for whom the human body was just a machine, one with all its own intricacies and frailties.
"Open wide." He said.
Pyro obediently opened their mouth, exposing a long pink tongue, and swallowed the strawberry-scented syrup. The Engineer poured out another spoonful and a half, which were also dutifully swallowed. Pyro winced slightly at the taste. The Engineer passed them the water, which was slurped gratefully. The Engineer noted the way Pyro held the rim of the glass between their tongue and top teeth to compensate for a notable lack of lips.
"Th-thanks, Engie." They rasped. Their voice was smoke-ravaged and hoarse, but for once un-muffled. "For the water, and the medicine, and for letting me stay."
"Not a problem." The Engineer replied, as Pyro fumbled the mask back down again. "That's what I'm here for. Now, can I getcha anything else?"
Pyro shook their head, masked and muffled again.
"Well then, I don't know about you, but I'm gonna try and get some shut-eye."
He switched the light off, and slid beneath the covers. His bed was small, company issue, and had never been designed to take two people, but he wouldn't have been an engineer if he didn't have a knack for solving problems. All they had to do was snuggle together and try not to wriggle too much, and they could just about sleep through the night without either of them falling out. Pyro cuddled up against him, wrapping their arms around his waist and nestling their head against his chest. When they were healthy, Pyro gave off heat like a living hot water bottle. When they was sick they burned like a furnace, except for their surprisingly chilly feet, which were currently warming themselves on the Engineer.
The Engineer sighed. Tomorrow, they'd have to face the consequences of fighting with one team member down. Tomorrow, they'd have to worry about the bug spreading through the entire team. But for now, it was cosy under the covers.
"Goodnight Pyro." He whispered.
"Grrrdnuuurrt Uurrngurr." Came the soft, muffled reply.
Soon, it was two sets of snores keeping time with the sentry.