Rollin' Over
By NukaCola101
DISCLAIMER: Don't own Team Fortress 2 (Valve does) and I defiantly don't own the copyrights to the song "Rollin' Over" by Skinny Lister (that would be Side One Dummy Records).
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've wanted to write a team bonding fic for a while now. I've been listening to this song by Skinny Lister for the last few days and, lo and behold inspiration! You know the drill by now: Read and review. Just be polite, efficient and if you must throw Jarate at me, well…I don't take kindly to trolls, for I shall throw you into the pit!
…..
It was twilight over the desert landscape of the Teufort compound. The evening sky was a mix of lavender and blue from the sun's final rays and clouds, creating a picture perfect painting that only nature could have done. It had been an eventful day between the seemingly never ending battle between RED and BLU. The Brothers Mann where stubborn, not wanting to give into one another's demands. They preferred to settle the score by putting on a show…and boy what a show it was! Each brother had hired nine mercenaries to fight one another until there was only one company left standing. The only problem with this solution was that neither side floundered; each brother always had a trick or two up their sleeve in order to win against one another. Thus, the battle raged on and the victor for today's match was RED.
With their well-deserved victory in place, the nine men celebrated the only way they knew how: drinking themselves into a stupor. After the last of the beer was drunk and the last can was crushed, the men returned to the barracks to go over tomorrow's plans and retire for the night. The Engineer, while quite the social butterfly, was the last man left outside the campfire and enjoying the solitude. The fire in the pit was still burning, its flames dancing around the wood logs it was eating up and casting just enough light for him to see. He was busy picking up the various beer cans and bottles off the ground, placing them in a big black trash bag. He laughed to himself, remembering how sick the Scout (who had just turned 21) had become. His face turned green and proceeded to vomit due to his grossly over consumption of Blu Streak.
"That boy needs to learn how to hold in his liquor." The Engineer said. Maybe the young Bostonian should get advice from the Demoman. After all, the Scotsman was a border-line alcoholic. The Texan had just finished cleaning up the camp site when he got an idea. He quickly tied up the bag, tossed it into the garbage bin and rushed back to his bunk. He searched in this closet and beamed when he pulled out a large black case. He hurried back to the camp site and upon arrival was surprised to see the Sniper. The lanky Australian was smoking a cigarette, not particularly paying attention to the Engineer as the short, chubby man sat down next to him. It was only after hearing the click of the latches of the case did the Sniper take notice.
"Yea still up?" he asked. The Engineer nodded. He had taken out his acoustic guitar from the jet black case. The Engineer was as smart as a whip (with eleven PhDs to prove it), but was also a budding musician. "Haven't played her in such a long time." he told the Sniper. The Sniper knew that the Engineer had the guitar, but often found it irritating since the majority of the songs the Texan played where country ballads and honky-tonk. But then again, the Sniper himself didn't really care for music; for him it was white noise: inaudible and mainly used to take his mind off of other things.
"You're right, it has been awhile since I heard you play, mate."
"Hope ya don't mind, Slim. Been tryin' to master this song for some time now an' I think I got it down pat. Care for a listen?"
Why not? The Sniper thought to himself. He was in a good mood from today's victory and not even some whiny, annoying country ditty could damper his spirits. "Sure." he told the Engineer, who beamed with excitement.
After tuning the instrument, the Engineer tapped his foot up and down on the ground, using the motion as a metronome to help keep the beat. He began to pluck the strings of the guitar, creating a melody that soon filled the air. The Sniper, who was just finishing his cigarette, couldn't help but tap along. He flicked the still burning cigarette butt into the campfire and eased his once hunched over back.
"Please be waiting
My way back home I'm making
As I roll, roll back to your side." The Texan sang, still strumming the cords to the song.
The Sniper soon had a soft smile on his face as he began to get into the groove of the song. It had a folksy quality to it, its upbeat tempo made the Sniper want to sing along.
"I'm returning
Ah keep the home fire burning
As I roll, roll back to your side."
The lyrics where all too familiar for both men. Despite they were from two different countries, the Sniper and the Engineer missed their loved ones.
"War is over
I'm no longer a soldier—"Suddenly, the Engineer stopped singing. The Sniper blinked back to consciousness as he was so enveloped in the song that he had not noticed the Engineer was lost in thought.
"Funny…it seems like this war won't be over for some time now, huh Snipes?"
The Sniper, while not one to get chummy with his fellow team mates, admitted to agreeing with the Engineer.
"Right. Keep playin' Truckie." he told the Texan. They both knew it would help take their minds off the notion the Engineer had brought up. The Engineer quickly adjusted his fingers and struck up the song again.
"Heart is pounding
The beat for you resounding
As I roll, roll back to your side.
Coz I'm roll, rollin' over
Rollin' over hills and valleys
Roll, roll back to your side."
Just before the Engineer could repeat the chorus, the Medic appeared. The two men by the campfire where surprised by the German's appearance, since the majority of the time he was locked up in the infirmary with his doves.
"I saw the campfire vas still being kept alive. I vas going to put it out vhen I saw the two of you." he explained.
"I wanted ta get some practice on my guitar here." The Engineer lifted his instrument slightly to show the Medic.
"Ah yes, Herr Conagher. You are certainly quite a jack of all trades! I, for one, vish to join you." The Medic held up an identical case, though much smaller in size. He took a seat across from the Sniper and Engineer and opened the case. The German presented a beautifully crafted violin and bow.
"You're not gonna start playin' that classical crap now, are yea Doc?" the Sniper said. The Medic just scowled at the Australian.
"Nein, Herr Mundy. Vhile I do vish you had a better appreciation for such exquisite music, Herr Conagher's song needs some additional accompaniment."
Now, the Sniper was no music expert, but he knew this wasn't going to pan out well.
"That's fine by me, Doc." The Texan told the Medic. "Say, just how's Scout doing?"
"Oh, he's perfectly fine. He'll be hung over tomorrow morning, but nothing several glasses of water and some aspirin von't fix." he said as he tuned his violin.
"Say Mundy, grab my guitar case and keep the beat, will ya?" the Engineer asked.
The Sniper grabbed the case and set it across his lab. After the three men set the beat once more, the Engineer and the Medic began to play their instruments. To the Sniper's surprise, the violin and the guitar corresponded beautifully with one another. The Medic's fingering across the neck of the violin and the movement of the bow was smooth and fluid, creating notes that danced with the Engineer's plucking of the guitar strings. As the Engineer repeated the previously sung chorus once more, the Sniper found himself singing along. While he had a not-so-great singing voice, his companions didn't seem to mind. The three men where all smiling, singing and enjoying the music that they were creating.
"Promise lead me
To be with you God speed me
As I roll, roll back to your side.
There your door lies
A pretty sight for sore eyes
As I roll, roll back to your side."
As they were continuing to play, the three men were interrupted by someone yelling at them.
"What in Sam Hill is this now, a drum circle?!"
The Engineer, Medic and Sniper didn't even need to guess which loud mouth said that. The Solider marched over to the campfire, looking annoyed and miffed. Right behind him was the Demoman, who was trying to calm his friend down.
"Don't be jumpin' ta conclusion now, Solly." the Scotsman warned.
"I know when I see hippies and these are defiantly hippies!"
"I beg your pardon?" the Medic asked with surprise as he lowered his violin.
"Don't try to defend what you were just doing, Fritz! The three of you where singing a protest song!"
"I hate ta burst your bubble Solly, but we were just jammin' on a good ol' fashion folk song now." the Engineer explained to the Solider.
"It ain't got anything to do with protesting." The Sniper said, still cradling the guitar case in his lap. The Soldier took notice of it and pointed to the case.
"Then why are you beating on that case like it was a pair of bongos?"
"To keep the beat of the song."
"Hippie." the Solider muttered.
"Well, I for one was enjoyin' yur music, laddies. Might we join yea?" the Demoman asked.
"Sure, the more the merrier!" the Engineer exclaimed happily.
"Fine, but I'm just here to make sure it's a true American song." The Solider said as he and the Demoman took a seat by the fire.
No sooner than the Scotsman and the Midwesterner had taken their seats, the Scout came running up to the men. And not to be outdone was the Spy, who was yelling at the Bostonian.
"Come back here you little bunny! You need to get back to ze infirmary!"
"Screw you Frenchie!"
After the Engineer calmed the two men down, it turned out that the Scout had been resting when the Frenchman appeared and offered some choice words on the young man's behavior earlier in the evening. This only angered the Scout, hence the reason why he had left his bed and came directly back outside to the campfire.
"He's comparin' me ta some juvenile delinquent!" Scout stated.
"You are a delinquent, you idiot! If you were more mature, you'd be able to hold your alcohol like a real man." the Spy said and thumbed to the Demoman. The Scotsman was taken aback by the Spy's compliment, although he knew to take it in stride.
The Scout was about to quip back at the Spy when he suddenly became pale once more. He jetted away from the group and was soon heard vomiting. The Medic just shook his head as the Spy chuckled with amusement. The Engineer handed Scout a bottle of water when the young man reappeared. With a big gulp, Scout plopped down next to the Texan and let out an exasperated sigh.
"Never again…" the Scout moaned.
"Now that ze little bunny has learned his lesson, I couldn't help but over hear music by ze campfire." the Spy said.
"Just an ol' fashion campfire sing along. Care ta sit awhile?" the Demoman asked the Frenchman.
"Why not. It's better than hearing him cry like a little girl." the Spy directed his comment to the Scout. Scout just glared at the Spy, still angry at him.
"Say, we are missin' Heavy and Pyro! I'll go get'em!" the Engineer said and set his guitar down as he went back to the barracks to gather the hulking Russian and the fire bug. Just as quickly as he left, he returned with the last two team members.
"It is good to be with friends!" the Heavy cheered as he took a seat next to the Medic and Spy. He scooped the two of them up in his arms in an impromptu bear hug. While the Medic laughed with joy, the poor Spy looked uncomfortable. After Heavy put down his team mates once more, the Spy calmly fixed his jacket, making sure the wrinkles would not set. Meanwhile, Pyro proceeded to tune a small mandolin it had brought to the camp site.
"Since when did our little fire starter take up that thing?" the Soldier questioned.
"Oh that? Well, apparently our little buddy here is just as musically adapted as I am." the Texan said as he patted the Pyro's back. If the Pyro had a visible smile on its gas mask, it would have beamed with pleasure and be ten miles wide.
"But is that mush mouth any good?"
Pyro looked at the Solider and proceeded to play a quick, chaotic riff. The Soldier was immediately put in his place after that. "Now that everyone is here, why don't we start from the top?" the Medic said and the Engineer agreed.
Soon the camp site was filled with the voices of nine men enjoying each others company. The sounds of the musical instruments playing together filled the air with an upbeat spirit that everyone was soon singing along.
"Coz I'm roll, rolling over
Rolling over hills and valleys
Roll, roll back to your side." the RED team sang, clapping along to the beat.
As the night continued to creep in on the land, the nine men didn't particularly care about what time it was. With each new song they sang, each of the men's attitudes toward one another became more positive. After the Engineer struck the finally cord of the last song, the fire in the pit was soon near dead, its embers glowing a dull red.
"Better head on back, boys. We got a busy day tomorrow." the Engineer said as he put his guitar back in its case. The Medic looked at his watch and nodded in agreement.
"Yes, I couldn't agree with you more, Herr Conagher." said the German how closed the latches on his violin case. As each of the men made their way back to the barracks, it was soon just the Sniper and the Engineer once more. The Australian was dumping a bucket of sand over the still hot coals as the Texan lifted his case and started to make his way back.
"Wait up!" the Sniper called. The Engineers paused as the Sniper walked up to him.
"That was a nice thing yea did back there; getting' all of us together."
"I honestly didn't plan on it, but I'm glad how well it turned out. Music always has the ability ta bring any group of people together."
"Sure beats those team building exercises we're required to do every month or so." the Sniper mused with displeasure. The Engineer couldn't help but laugh.
"Especially since the last group activity ended with both you and the Spy having egg on your faces—literally!"
The Sniper grimaced as he remembered. The activity involved being paired up with a partner and tossing an egg back and forth. It was supposed to help the men develop some sort of trust with their partner, but this wasn't the case with the Spy. Since they hated each other from the get go, it soon became a contest as to see who could go the longest without bursting into anger from the insults they traded back and forth.
This quickly deteriorated when the Frenchman insulted the Sniper's family one too many times. Using the egg as a grenade, the Sniper threw it at the Spy and splattering the yolk all over his suit. It soon became an all-out war as each of the men began throwing eggs at one another. Saxton Hale, who often regulated the team building seminars, promptly put an end to the Sniper and Spy's egg throwing by punching them in the jaw. Luckily for the both the Australian and the Frenchman, their jaws where not broken, but sore and tender for the next several days. "That outta teach the both of you to shut up and work together for once!" Saxton yelled at them. He made the two of them clean up the rec room, as they had gotten egg remnants all over the place.
The Sniper rubbed his jaw as if the pain was still fresh and new. "Stupid Spook…" he muttered.
"Look, I know you and the crouton don't get along very well, but it seemed to me that the both of yea we getting' along pretty well…" the Texan said.
The Engineer was right. For all the times that both he and the Spy bickered with one another, tonight was different. As they were singing songs around the camp fire, the Sniper was actually being nice to the Spy. The two of them where even taking turns using the guitar case as drum!
"You know, maybe we should start makin' our own team bonding events, especially since tonight's little impromptu sing along went over so well. So, same time next week?" the Engineer asked. The Sniper smiled. "You bet, Truckie." He answered. The two men parted ways for the night, ready to battle BLU the next day…together as a team.
The End