A/N: I don't know what's wrong with me, this is total crap I spewed out of my brain last night and finally typed up. Here, have a thing.
Title inspired by the Silent Hill song by the same name. I recommend listening to it as you read.
He was a coward. At least, that's what the young Bostonian boy kept telling himself as he lay in the darkness.
It was all the robots' fault. They had come, wreaking havoc on the respawn machine. His teammate, the BLU Engineer, had been the first to die. Scout had been protecting him, destroying more and more bots as they came, but then... Engineer was dead. He fell to the floor, a Sniper bot's bullet embedded in his forehead. Scout had fled, leaving his and the other team to die at the hands of Gray Mann and his robots.
They were gone by now, long gone. All that remained were the bodies, and scraps of metal here and there, and the blood; lots and lots of blood, staining the white snow, turning it pink and red. He didn't want to get out of the crate and face his teammates' bodies.
He was a coward. He didn't deserve to be alive while both teams; RED and BLU were all dead.
Wiping the tears from his eyes, the BLU Scout opened the top of the crate, standing up. He grimaced, seeing the bodies. He knew he had to do something about them, to honor the mercenaries. The body closest to him was that of the BLU Soldier, his teammate. He still clutched his trusty shovel in one hand, eyes staring off into the distance.
Even though Soldier was loud and obnoxious, he still missed him. There would be no more waking up to him storming down the halls, pounding on doors and yelling. There would be no more forced push-ups outside in the snow, wearing only his shorts and hat. There would be no more anything.
Scout gently took the shovel from the dead man's hands, and closed his eyelids, as if he was sleeping.
Walking a few feet, he found a spot where there was no blood, no bodies. Perfect. Plunging the dented shovel into the ground, he began to dig.
He didn't stop for four straight hours, digging until the sun disappeared and the moon shone weakly through the clouds. When he stopped, his hands were calloused, blistered and bloodied from digging.
Scout stood back, observing his work. Seventeen holes, each four feet deep and six feet long.
He closed his eyes, wishing he were anywhere but here. Slowly, one by one, careful not to drop the bodies, he picked each one up, laying them in separate holes.
He was nearly done; he'd saved the one he was closest to for last.
He never got to say goodbye... He never got to tell him how he felt...
The BLU Sniper, his teammate and best friend, lay peacefully in the snow, both eyes closed. He'd fought valiantly, cutting down dozens, no, hundreds, of bots.
Scout crouched by his friend, hand brushing the snow from his precious aviators, now cracked and covered with the cold white substance.
He tucked them into his jacket pocket, where they'd be safe.
"Snipes... I... I really miss ya, man... you were the only one who really kept me goin' in this stupid war, y'know? You were the reason I kept on goin', kept on tryin'... now ya gone... I feel like there's no reason to keep going..." Scout said quietly, sitting on his knees, cradling his friend's body in his arms.
"I- I dunno what to do, man... I'm the last one here... I chickened out, Snipes! I ran and hid while you guys... while you guys fought... I was a coward... I feel like I shouldn't be alive... if anybody deserves to be alive, man, s'you... I shoulda' been the one killed, not you..." He stopped, tears leaking from his eyes.
"Dammit, Sniper, why'd ya have to go and die?!" He sobbed, hugging his friend's body close. "Ya left me alone, man! I'm here, alone, no food, nothin'... I need you, Snipes! What am I supposed t'do?" He paused, falling tears leaving frozen trails on his cheeks.
"C'mon, Snipes... tell me what to do, man!" Scout stood to his feet, struggling with the weight of the Australian. Both Heavies were of course the hardest to bury, being the largest, but Sniper was almost as hard, bearing the weight of their friendship.
Sniper's lifeless body didn't reply. Scout hadn't expected it to, but you never know what might happen.
"I... I never got to tell you..." Scout began as he lay his friend down in the last grave. "I never got to tell you how I felt..." Sniffling, he continued. "I never... got to tell you... I love you..."
Sniper's eyes were closed, and lying there in the grave, he could have been asleep, if it wasn't for the large gash in his side and the blood staining his blue shirt and his vest.
He crouched down, removing his own coat and gently using it to cover his friend's abdomen, hiding the gash and the blood. "Ya' need this more n' I do..." He whispered.
Scout began covering the hole in silence, tears still falling. It was early morning when he'd finished covering all seventeen holes.
He set down the dented shovel taken from his fallen teammate, sank to his knees, and began to sob. "Snipes... D-don't forget me... while ya' up there... in heaven... I can't eva' forgive myself for what I've done... I miss you, man..." His voice cracked, and he was barely whispering now.
"I don't deserve to be forgiven... by anybody... Snipes... if ya' really up there, watchin' me, just... neva' forgive me... n' neva' forget me neither..."
Scout sat there for a long time, knees to his chest, hands wrapping around his own body.
xXxXxXxXx
Days later, Gray Mann entered the small town, observing the damage done to his precious robots. Parts were strewn everywhere, many of them buried under a thin layer of snow.
Gray frowned, stopping in front of a body on the ground. "Where are all the other bodies?" He asked aloud.
One of his assistants shrugged. "It appears he buried them, sir. He's still holding the shovel."
"Hmm... This one, he has no blood on him, no wounds, nothing, yet he is dead. A coward, perhaps?"
"It appears so, sir." The assistant replied.
"Dispose of him and clean up the area. We don't need bodies and machine parts all over our nice new town, do we now?"
"Of course sir, right away, sir."