This fic was co-written by tiny-freakin-head and I in the form of an RP. I'm uploading it to my account but we are both equally the authors of it.)
Well, that was a mistake, BLU Spy thought muzzily as he tried to pull himself up onto his knees. His ears still rang from the blast as dust settled down around him.
A sharp pain in his side made Spy hiss and glance down.
Oh. Oh dear.
A huge splinter of wood. Of course it was wood, that's what they got for fighting robots while surrounded by barns
A huge splinter of wood. Sticking out of his ribs. He touched the skin under it with shaking, nerveless hands. His blue gloves came away stained purple.
Oh dear.
Spy slowly pulled himself free of the wreckage, pushing aside planks and bricks and roof tiles. He was lucky in a way, it could have been so much worse. Or maybe a nastier injury would have been better. At least he would have died quicker that way.
He dragged himself further back into the building, where a corner of it still stood. As he moved, he began to cough. It got worse and worse until he was forced to stop and curl up on his front, coughing onto the floorboards. Spy tasted copper and glanced down. The floor was speckled in blood and spit. That was probably worthy of another oh dear, but by now he felt resigned.
Spy made it to the wall. His intentions had been to lean against it until he could pull himself together enough to find help. Instead he found himself sliding down it with a groan. He curled up on his side on the floor, staring dully at the shard of wood sticking out of his side.
It had been a mistake. It had been his own fault. He'd seen the robot carrying the bomb and rushed to find his teammates, but found only REDs instead. They were supposed to be working together, but years of murder and hatred and all-consuming grudges could not be forgotten so easily. He'd presumed the REDs would try and shoot him on sight. He hadn't stopped to warn them.
And now... and now... how much of the site was even left? How many had survived the blast? Spy suspected he'd accidentally ended up the closest when the bomb went off, but he had no idea how widespread or how localised the blast had been. Maybe he was the only one injured. Or maybe everyone, RED or BLU was dead.
Maybe respawn had been hit.
This time, he could finally be dying for real, all alone at the back of a dusty old barn. What a way to go.
At the sight of the BLU Spy running at top speed, the RED team had immediately gone on alert. Sniper hadn't been as removed from the immediate battlefield as he would have liked, only up in a hayloft, easily able to hear and see the metal soldiers hunting them down. He'd given a shout when he saw the bomb, but it seemed like it had been too late.
The barn he was in had half-collapsed in the explosion and getting down was treacherous. Still, he managed with only a few minor scratches and scrapes, grateful that he was wearing his glove; it made it easier to hold onto splintering wooden beams as he worked his way to the ground.
When he got to the site of the blast, he couldn't see anyone at first. Nobody from RED was there. He could only hope that meant they had respawned, or moved on before there was another attack. Something red caught his eye and he turned, but it was only a spray of blood. It was easy enough to follow the tracks; pointy shoes and a steady drip of blood. That'd be a spy then. Probably the damn BLU who hadn't bothered to shout anything or warn anyone. Not that Sniper could judge him too harshly. Their truce was an uneasy one.
He rounded the corner and the sound of a man coughing interrupted his tracking. Following the hoarse, painful sound into another wooden structure, Sniper found himself standing in front of a rather pathetic looking Spy. The man was curled up on his side, the floor around him spattered with blood.
For a moment all he could do was look, unsure how he should act. They weren't teammates. They'd killed each other enough times and certainly taken their rivalry to more personal levels than most of the others had. Sniper still had a scar on his cheek from the BLU Spy, but he couldn't feel vengeful with this thin little man bleeding through his torn suit onto rotten wood and old hay.
Footsteps. Footsteps heading his way. Someone come to save him.
Then the all-too familiar outline of a lanky man in a wide-brimmed hat came into sight. Spy held his breath, frozen still. Curled up on the floor. Bleeding. Dying. Vulnerable. Utterly at the RED's mercy.
He tried to pull himself upright, teeth bared into a snarl. He was like an injured cat chased into a dead end,showing its fangs one last time as the huge dog that had it cornered. And he had about as much chance of fighting back.
Spy tipped his head back, jutting his chin out defiantly. He couldn't stop the flicker of fear in his eyes though.
What was the Sniper going to do? Spy could pray for a quick, merciful death, but he doubted he would get one.
The Sniper would draw it out. Impossibly neat cut after cut with that huge knife of his. So heavy, so unwieldy, so expertly handled. The Sniper would probably chop off his fingers one by one, enjoying every scream. Or maybe he'd skin him alive. Turn his hide to leather.
Spy wouldn't put anything past that man.
Even while he was just standing there, looking torn and uncertain.
That hadn't been the response Sniper had expected. Spy was always so carefully groomed, so snarky and sharp-tongued. Watching him scrabble on the ground like an animal in a trap, his even teeth bared, well… it would have been threatening if it hadn't looked a little ridiculous.
Sniper knelt, unsheathing his kukri and starting to cut the man's suit jacket and shirt away from the large splinter of wood skewering him. Wouldn't do to have it tangle and get in the way when he pulled it out. If he could. It looked nasty and it'd hurt like hell to come out. Once he had a tear going in the fabric he pulled it apart with a loud ripping sound.
There was nothing he could do. Nothingnothingnothingnothing- and now the Sniper was right next to him, that huge knife unsheathed and-
Spy needed to cough. He desperately needed to cough, he could feel the blood pooling in his lungs. He needed to cough. But he forced himself to say perfectly still.
The Sniper wasn't cutting him. Yet. But all it would take was one slip, one sideways movement, one cough.
What was the Sniper even doing? Something to do with the ragged piece of wood sticking out of him. What was he going to do, grab hold of it and tear it out? Shove it deeper? Play with it, easing it this way and that until Spy cried?
Then he heard a ripping noise.
Oh god. Oh god.
The Sniper was tearing his clothes off.
No no no.
He'd thought the Sniper capable of many terrible things, but not this...
Ignoring the looming kukri, Spy grabbed hold of Sniper's wrist.
'Get off me! Get off! I'll-' he broke off as he began to cough, turning his head away so the Sniper couldn't see. Not to hide the fact he was coughing up flecks of blood, that must be obvious, but for dignity's sake.
Sniper saw the sheer panic in the other man's face and suddenly realized what Spy was thinking. He let Spy hold his wrist, not struggling against him.
'It's alright, mate, I just want to help,' he lowered his voice, nervous of more robots hearing them. 'I'm not gonna hurt you.'
He pulled a bandana out of his pocket, offering it to Spy to wipe his mouth. If he was bleeding from his mouth… well hopefully he'd just scratched up his throat and his lungs were alright. Sniper wasn't sure if he could do anything to help Spy if he were that injured.
Spy gripped Sniper's wrist as hard as he could.
The Sniper wasn't going to hurt him?
Wanted to help?
He didn't believe it for a second. Spy had been fighting the RED Sniper for years. They were worst enemies. Neither would ever help the other! Spy certainly wouldn't help the Sniper if he'd found him like this...would he?
Spy eyed Sniper warily as he pulled a handkerchief- no, a bandana, out of his pocket. Spy hesitated when it was offered to him. What was this about? Where was the trap?
Spy coughed again, his breathing raspy and unsteady. More blood on his chin. Wonderful. He let go of the Sniper's wrist and took the bandana off him. As he raised it to his face, his fingers scraped across stubble.
Shit. How much damage had his mask taken? In his peripheral vision Spy could see a tuft of dark, blood-spiked hair sticking out from what was likely a tear just above his eyebrow, and it appeared that the material between the holes for his eyes and mouth was nearly torn away on the left side.
Even with the pain in his side and the black spots that bloomed in front of his eyes every time he coughed, it was the enemy Sniper seeing his face that really bothered Spy.
Horrible injuries and death happened to him every day. Having so much of his face and torso exposed to a RED did not.
Spy's grip on his wrist became painful and Sniper winced a little. Finally Spy released him as he began coughing up more blood, dabbing his face. He seemed surprised to find his mask partially missing. It had barely registered to Sniper. He'd seen little bits of Spy's hair through a torn mask before, he knew it was dark, nearly black.
'Do you know if there's a medikit nearby?' Sniper wasn't terribly familiar with this area, he was used to being up, away from the main fight. As he asked, he very gently turned Spy so he could see where the splinter came out the back out. If Sniper was going to pull that out, they would need a medikit immediately or Spy would bleed to death. If he could even get it all out at once.
Spy seemed unfocused, the bandana held limply in his hand, blood dribbling from his mouth and nose. A thread of fear coursed through Sniper. He had to act quick. Respawn was getting less and less likely every time they died. One explosion would mean permanent death instead of waking up again, healed and energized. Spy may be a pain in the ass but they needed all the allies they could get right now.
'Medikit?' he repeated, louder, taking Spy gently by the shoulders.
Medikit? Well there was one... there was one... God his heart was beating so fast. He wasn't even doing anything, just lying on a floor. Yet he could feel it beating against his ribs like a panicked bird.
Medikit. Focus. Where was a medikit?
Spy raised his head, the world tilting this way and that sickeningly. His head was heavy. So heavy.
Medikit. Medic had shown them where he'd stored them before the battle, hadn't he? He hadn't been paying proper attention because Scout had been mouthing off about something. He'd been arguing when he should have been listening. Well, if he didn't know, time to use logic. Where would they likely be?
Spy tried to think. It was like his thoughts were water escaping through a sieve; he couldn't hold onto them. Couldn't pull them together.
Medikit...
'Cabinet,' Spy rasped, remembering now where he'd glimpsed one earlier in the battle. 'In the workshop next to this. To the right,' The side that hadn't taken as much damage in the explosion. He hoped.
Sniper considered letting Spy just slump against the dirty barn floor, but instead bent down and scooped him up as carefully as he could. He held the man under his knees and back, putting one of Spy's arms over his shoulders. It was bound to be a little painful, but this barn was hardly hiding anything. Heading out of the half-destroyed barn with a careful look back and forth for robots or teammates, Sniper left quietly. He saw nothing and no one. He left a bloody handprint on the workshop door as he pushed his way in. This building had taken a little scorching but it was in far better shape than the barn.
Spy was not expecting to be picked up today. By anybody. Let alone the enemy Sniper. Frankly, it was embarrassing. Spy was going to argue against the whole thing but then he found himself too busy trying not to faint to say anything.
He wasn't entirely sure he was successful because the next thing Spy knew, he was on his side on top of a counter in a different room entirely. The workshop. He reached out a gloved hand and tapped his fingers against the side of a huge rusty metal vice attached to the edge of the counter. Spy wasn't sure why he did that. It just seemed like a good idea to check that the world was still real. Everything seemed to hazy and distant, even the sounds of fighting going on outside. What were they fighting for again? Spy couldn't remember.
Putting Spy down on the counter gingerly, suddenly realizing there was a large bloodstain on his abdomen where Spy had rested against him, Sniper rifled through cabinets until he found a medikit, huffing out a sigh of relief. 'I'm gonna get this out, then we'll take care of you, alright?'
Sniper grabbed the splinter from both sides and pushed it through carefully back the way it had come. Luckily Spy's body hadn't really had time to seal it in and he bled freely.
The Sniper said something. It took a while for Spy's brain to translate the sounds into information. Too long for him to be able to prepare himself. To brace. It was probably a good thing, if he'd tensed up, it would have only made pulling out the splinter all that much harder.
The pain was excruciating.
A thin, cracked cry escaped him.
Spy's hand flew to Sniper's wrist again, holding on to him as though it was the only thing keeping him from falling down a deep ravine.
His eyebrows pinched as he heard the wet, gristly sucking sound of the splinter being pulled from his body.
Spy stared at the Sniper without really seeing him, his eyes huge and round and filled with pain.
Then he felt the splinter scrape past bone. He let out an embarrassing whine, a high, raspy little noise that he wasn't even aware of making.
His eyes rolled back. His body slumped back onto the bloody, dusty counter, and everything was dark.