The van ride back to the base was long, as usual. Soldier was riding home with Medic and Demoman this time. Medic drove and Demo sat in the passenger seat, and they gabbed on and on about science. Medicine, chemistry, boring stuff. Soldier stuck in the back and had a much more interesting conversation with himself about freedom. Important things. Soldier ceased this thrilling and important conversation to reminisce when it used to be that all the offense classes rode together. The Defense classes rode together, and the same with Support. It made sense at the time, until the conclusion that all the responsible drivers were either Support or Defense, and none of the Offense classes should be trusted with a car under any circumstances.
Soldier didn't remember that last part, because nobody told him why they stopped driving in those groups out of fear he would get really upset. He still thought he was an excellent driver.
"Who can possibly drive a car over a ravine, stick the landing, then spend the next couple minutes spelling out 'SPEED LIMITS ARE FOR COMMUNISTS' in the dirt with said car, after which driving off at max speed?" Soldier asks himself. He points both his thumbs at himself and answers,
"This guy." Which is actually not entirely true. While he did definitely land on the other side of the ravine safely, he didn't spell "SPEED LIMITS ARE FOR COMMUNISTS," so much as he spelt, "S9EED LEMITS AR FOR CAMUNISTS." Soldier is not the best at spelling. He was, however, pretty good at wasting time, because once he finished reminiscing, the van had reached the base. Soldier jumped out and waited for someone to say if anything big was happening this weekend. Were they going to think they were about to die again?
"No, that's ridiculous," Soldier thought to himself.
"Medic said we are going to live forever. A fellow American would never lie." Soldier is also pretty good at misinterpreting things. Nobody had said anything big at the time, so Soldier went back to the offense dorm, figuring that if anything big happened, if it was worth his time, somebody would tell him about it.
When he opened the door, he expected to see the familiar two bunks, his side of the dorm covered in flags, propaganda posters and medals (That were definitely official and he did not give himself) and the other side, shared by scout and pyro, covered half in baseball cards and half in blackboard paint with unicorns drawn on in chalk. He wasn't entirely wrong in his prediction, as when he opened the door, everything he thought was going to be there was. However, he did not expect there to be a shadowy figure on the unused upper bunk on his side of the room.
