This fanfic is set in Dustbowl. I thought I'd write a TF2 Fanfic. *When I try to write the dialogue with an accent I don't mean to offend anyone. I'm looking for comments and critique. Tell me what you think about it. To be honest, I've seen better than mine but please comment ;v;

~ Smee.

Chapter 1: Part 1: Scout
The sun rays printed a burn on the back of his neck. Scout rubbed it, feeling the sting that followed. It was a dusty, humid afternoon in the Dustbowl, it hadn't poured for over a fortnight, he doubted if today was going to be any different.
Scout walked the muddy track overlooking a beetle. A sheepish smirk playing on his parched lips. Without further ado he kicked it away, watching it land several meters away from him. "That shad' do it."
He grasped his bat, absentmindedly swinging it across his body as if fighting a transparent spy.
The sun rays burned spitefully, like daggers, gored into his back.
The young man hauled himself up onto a narrow ledge, sheltered by busted planks of what was left of a platform. The wood was dappled and dotted with dents from shotgun bullets. Some of the bullet shells were still jammed between the cracks.
Scout turned his attention to the gates. They were old, rusted and bent. Gates of such type should've been replaced; but with the hold ups and time ticking away, Red team never got to fixing them.

The whole idea of war never crossed Scout's mind. It was all about winning. Wasn't it. The dusted air would be filled with smoke, bullet shells and missiles. Dustbowl would become a blood-bowl, with agent orange in the mist.
Scout, however knew that a battle of this kind couldn't be declined. There was too much of a 'prize'. In the end, when two beg for power, one of them becomes controlled.

A firm hand, Scout felt it grasp his shoulder blade. Glancing up, squatted sniper. His hat, shading his squinted eyes; rifle resting unsteadily on his thigh. Annoyed, Scout brushed off Snipers firm grip; nose scrunched up and teeth gritted behind his lips. "Get ya' hand of me ya' freak." he barked. Clearly seeing that Scout disapproved his company, Sniper removed his hand, catching his gun as it fell from his thigh. Scout dogged it, glaring at the older man.
The two men, apathetic about the whole situation sat there, watching the cloudless sky. It was just that moment the intercom turned on; Scout felt a queasy tug in his stomach. He became aware that in the next ten minutes he could be lifeless, breathless, bloodless. Dead. [/list][/size]

Part 2: Start of battle
Everyone rushed to their places. Heavy followed by Medic, "I love zis doktor!" hollered the large man. Medic grinned behind Heavy, charging him with his Medi Gun. Archimedes flew overhead. Several marks away, stood Engineer and Demoman; both chugging down beer and leaning on Engie's newly built sentry.
"Which of you numb nuts are planning to let us down?" Growled Soldier. The laughter stopped. Demoman's face was wiped clean of amusement.
"We're just getting' started." Guffawed Demo. 'There a problem?'
Clumsily, Demo let his bottle of scrumpy slip out of his hand and pour onto Enigineer's sentry. Soldier rolled his eyes and sighed.
Engineer scrambled to his feet and grabbed his wrench, hitting the bottle off the sentry like a baseball. Demo muffled a quiet 'oops' , patted Engie on the back and queasily smiled at Soldier before jogging off. There was a pause between Soldier and Engineer. Engie couldn't help but feel Soldier still staring at him with his covered eyes. The sentry was now sticky and gave a scent of alcohol, probably not in the best condition.
"Great. I pray for the victory to be on our side. You betta' be too hardhat." Soldier growled.

The static of the intercom echoed through the speakers. [bzzt] begins in 5...4...3... [bzzt]Scout leaped of the ledge, ignoring Sniper completely. Bat in hand and swinging, he sprinted down the rails, picking up several health packs on the way. His dash came to a pause after Pyro sprung out at him at a corner. Fortunately, there was enough distance for him not to ignite in flames. Pyro greeted him with a muffled 'Hello' and set off to find another point-blank victim. Scout gave him a friendly salute, continuing down the tracks.

The air felt thick. There was a piercing noise, signaling the gates had opened. Suddenly the dust-bowl was filled up to the brim with shameless mercenaries. Scout made his way to the front line, next to the gates. Using his advantage of his quick feet, the young man made his way up on to a platform. RED members were already after him. His heart was beating at a swift pace. He could see spy, back stabbing a fellow blu team sniper. Pyro had set the blu team Medic on fire, and the Heavy he was in the progress of healing. Everything seemed to be going according to BLU's plan.
Close by was engineer, muttering and cursing to himself; fixing a freshly sapped sentry. "Goddamn spies. Sappin' everythin'!" He yelled. It was likely to be the one Demoman had spilt his rotten scrumpy on, since it gave away quickly.
Scout gave one last glance, put on a devious smile and leaped from the platform. It was less than a minute before he had already bonked someone on the head.
"I'll send you off to your mama in a box!" Shouted RED soldier, whose face recently came in contact with the wrath of Scouts bat.

Bullets flying, bodies flying, body parts flying, were of the lesser things the atmosphere was filled with. Both from his team and the enemies it was challenging to work out who was winning.
Suddenly, an ache turned to a discomforting throb. Scout couldn't jog any further. He had gotten shot in the calf. Blood spurted, soaking into his clothing material. It was nothing. Well it was nothing for now. "ey' Doc!" he yelled, attempting to run on this awkward foot. He could already make out the footsteps of someone closing up from behind. It was most likely a spy since when the guy turned around there was no one to be seen. Hastily swinging his bat around, it was surely someone. But not a spy. With an unsuccessful spin of his bat, he ended up closely hitting his own Doc on the arm. Dodging, the evidently unamused Medic gave Scout a dirty look. He pushed up his spectacles with his index finger before healing Scout.
"Sorry Doc."
"Oh please." Muttered the German doctor.
Archimedes was perched on top of his shoulder. Blood splattered over his feathers. The mad look in his eye portrayed the same in medics eyes. Like bird like man Scout gave a snicker, before abandoning medic to create more trouble.
"Vhere are you going? You vhere not healed!" Medic gave a heavy sigh.
"Ztrange boy, Archimedes. Ztrange boy." Not minding the storm of weapons, he patted Archimedes on the head. He grew very fond of his dove over the years.

Meanwhile, Heavy was on a rant.
He was like a walking turret. An enormous walking turret. Lips, madly grinning.
Heavy didn't mind the shower of bullets storming at him; half of them would miss and bounce of his Tomislav anyway.
"Haaaa, no one can outsmart bullet!" Shrieked Heavy. Sniper and Spy just watched, gobsmacked, from behind a rock. The duo could see RED mercenaries plummeting down like dominoes under the rage of Heavy's mini gun. Heavy remained apathetic about the rain of classes. He knew that the RED classes would re-spawn and charge back as always. If the re-spawn mechanism didn't exist, he would be a little more affectionate towards who he would blast with his monster of a gun. Deep inside the large teddy bear did care. Even if he was fighting against long-term enemies.

However, all wasn't as well as the team hoped it would be. It was a pity a Medic didn't notice. Demoman groaned, the pain in his side growing stronger. He slumped down, leaning on what was left of a hideout. Tired and worn out he picked at the wound. It wasn't the best of ideas attempting at sabotaging one of RED teams control points. Especially, when no BLU team member was close by. Now what was he going to do? He was in RED teams property. In a busted hideout. It wasn't going to be long until a Pyro, Engie or Soldier found him. Sure he would re-spawn, but he wouldn't be able handle the pain for very long. And if he couldn't the pain? God knows what he would go and do.
The sharp pain was increasing. He heard footsteps. Or was it just him? Was it the blood loss making him mentally hesitant? Or was it his gut telling him he could be dead in a matter minutes, seconds? Demo pushed himself into the corner, making sure no BLU material or really anything of his could be seen. He found his anxiety discomforting. If he sat there, in that corner, aching and groaning, it wouldn't take long before someone noticed.
A step. A twig snapping. It was so loud. The sound looped around in his mind.