Clover rolled her shoulders, her face scrunched up unpleasantly from the resulting series of pops and cracks from the motion. "Damn, when that slimy spy came by an' spooked me, I jumped straight down into that dirty sewage water." She grabbed a wad of her shirt and managed to wring out most of the reeking water, winced when she clumsily poured some on her arm wound she got from the same spy earlier that day. "Ugh, that's gonna be an infection later, where's the medic..."

The battle had been won, barely, with all of the members sporting at least one or two fatal looking wounds. Medic, no where in sight, probably had his hands full with some poor sucker who jumped into a demoman's bomb trap or in the way of an alerted sentry. And oddly, the resupply locker, that had seemed so infinitely full, had been emptied out during the duration of the battle. Convenient.

Scout limped into the locker room, his eyes flickered from the damn bright lights they had in there. Clover looked up hopefully, and scoffed upon seeing that it was only the team's idiot, Scout of course. The monkey had tormented Clover from day one, from sexist comments to peeking incidents in this very, and only, locker room they were in and BLU team had to share. She continued her wait for a medic with resentment while trying to see if she could get more water out of her shirt.

"The resupply locker is out...just saying," Clover says idly with her eyes on the ground. Scout stops in his tracks and sighs dramatically.

Too tired to bother, Scout, without acknowledging Clover, turned to go to his locker and threw his bag with his headphones in. That was weird, Clover noted, he was quite vapid, for once. He looked in the mirror in his locker, cocked his head at an angle irritatedly, and rubbed his chin leaving a pale area of less dirt coated skin. It was a darn shame to get this beautiful face dirtied and scratched up.

"Ow, fuck!" Then, Scout heard her sneer a few more colorful and muffled words into the palm of hand. He saw the puddle of water underneath of her on the cement slowly getting sucked into a drain and noticed that she was dripping from head to toe in foul liquid. Just then, he realized what the faint rotting smell that had been bothering him for a while like a mosquito. It was Clover.

"What da heck, you smell fucking awful," Scout said, clasping his dirty bandaged hands over his nose. "What the hell'd you do? Were you going for a swim? No wonder I didn't see you the entire time." Clover's weary eyes aimed at him through her dark hair and she gave up trying to dry her clothes.

"You don't smell like a bundle of flowers either, dumbass," she reminded, her patience was little to none and she doesn't answer to anymore of his comments. Her arm is starting to really bother her, and even if she wanted to, she couldn't reply back. Fist clenching, her lips tighten into a line in pain. Where was the damn medic when you wanted him, she thought angrily. "Just shut up Scout." Her voice is strained.

He doesn't recognize her voice and gives her a look. She presses her eyes against her palm and doesn't notice when Scout comes over to her. Surprised and in pain she lets out a shrill yelp when he grabs her arm wrist roughly to get a good look at her wound. "What the hell are you doing, that fucking hurts!" He just presents something in front of her face to shush her bitching up.

It's not exactly a medic, but a pill bottle looked like heaven to her right now. Scout smirks and offers it to her, not as badly beat up, arm for her to take and she gladly takes it, pops it open, and swallows a large amount of them dry. Eyes closed softly, the pain relievers worked their magic and worked it fast, her body shuddered and then felt nothing, but pure and happy numbness. Those were definitely good old drugs.

"Feeling any better girly?" He asked with a hint of Scout smugness, and heaved himself up into a standing position again. He wheezed a bit, but caught himself, obviously struggling also. Clover nods her head and slouches back against the wall with a soft sigh. "Good. I'm gonna go and find a real medic for you now, so don' you move a single muscle, got dat?" She nodded again in a surprised, yet pleasant way.

She immediately straighten herself up, embarrassed that she was letting Scout get an ounce of anything, but a calloused and cold attitude. He grinned never the less and pointed one last warning pointer finger at her, like a owner telling his dog not to follow and even ordering, "Stay." Clover, from reflex, let out a throaty growl and quickly regretted it. Scout let out a snorting fit of laughter and Clover felt her hair bristle in anger.

"Hahahahaa! Your such a freakin' moron girly!"

"Shut up you!"

She attempted to get up, but fell back against the wall awkwardly which caused Scout to laugh more. When he felt he'd done his days worth of laughing at her he shook his head and began exiting the room, although had small bursts of laughter. Her vision blurred, Clover reached out an arm menacingly at him and almost shouted something vulgar, but stopped when she saw that her stretched out arm was bandaged where her gash used to be. She didn't even notice when he had wrapped up her bloodied bicep for her, but it made her feel a little sad for some reason.

Clover didn't look up, but bit down on her lip. His name was caught in her throat and she was too prideful to say anything, much less a thanks. That unpleasant feeling of sadness crept back up and she realized that his laugh was different, he had stopped laughing all together and was silent.

Her eyes catches another realization, a trail of blood across the room ending at where she was sitting. Had she been bleeding that bad, she thought, it was just a bullet wound. Then, she saw that the blood trail actually started where she was and as her eyes followed it up it met with Scout's dripping leg- it was Scout that made the trail of Blood. He had left a lot of blood in fact. And she looked up and saw why- a spy's knife had been wedged into his back and he couldn't just rip it out for it could cause him to bleed more, even to death. It was in there deep and left his back blood soaked. That damn spy, she'd get him next time, why couldn't Scout just say something. And she came to find that she didn't for the same reason.

As the doors closed, she blurted, "Wait, Scout-." But the door shut and, to her relief, she didn't see him around for the rest of the day. The guilt of not noticing earlier would eat her alive if she looked at him. Medic came in shortly and tended to her wounds. She asked about him. Of course, Medic had sent Scout to the clinic to be kept until he was able to return to duty. Not many live from a spy's back stab. He was lucky. Clover glanced at the floor bloodied with Scout's blood.

"Damn..."


I tried. Tell me how i did, flame me if you must. :p It'll all be noted down and I WILL BE BETTER (next time). :T