Notes: This is a sequel to 'The Trials of California' and largely won't make sense without having read that, first. Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve Software. This story is non-profit. Story features mentions of terminal illness.

"Crikey, Scout! Slow down!"

"No way!"

Scout laughed and slammed his foot down on the pedal. Sniper's dad's car was a tiny blue thing that looked like it was made out of tin, but hey, it wasn't like the camper van was around any more. Not that Sniper would have let him drive that thing, anyway. It hadn't taken him too long to learn the basics, and though it was pretty weird having the driver's seat on the right, there was nothing stopping Scout from hurtling along the Australian countryside and mowing down any flimsy fence or crop that got in his way.

Sniper was holding on to both the top of his window and the side of his seat, clinging on for dear life as the car swerved and jolted all over the place. The poor guy was quickly turning an abrupt shade of green, though it seemed little was going to deter the boy from utilising this new-found skill.

"Look, you were lucky enough to be knocked out last time we almost got splattered in a crash," Sniper bellowed, reluctantly releasing the seat to attempt to grab Scout a few times until his hand finally landed on his companion's shoulder. "I spent seven hours with a crushed pelvis – worse, I had to look at your stupid mug the whole time. Get your foot off the accelerator!"

"Jeez, all right! It was you who wanted to come out here!"

The car continued sailing along. Scout pressed down on the brake a little too firmly, causing an abrupt shift in speed. Thankfully, the grass beneath them was sodden and thoroughly muddy, resulting in the vehicle skidding forwards a good way and almost slamming into the horse paddock. The animals inside were suitably startled, much to Sniper's dismay. Scout watched as the man quickly exited the vehicle and trudged through mud to get to the horses and attempt to calm them down by holding up his hands.

Rolling his eyes, Scout reversed slightly to make sure the car wasn't stuck in the mud. The farm was awesome, but Sniper was so weirdly hellbent on keeping it pristine that he wasn't allowed to do anything fun. Sure, the guy had recently put it up for sale since they had come here, but still. This place, as Sniper often said, was so rustic and almost pure, so unlike the nearby city of Adelaide that it felt more comforting, somehow, because it wasn't filled with all the whacky tech and terrifying Australians that the city was. It was pretty big, too, and there were all kinds of animals that were looked after by people Sniper called jackaroos, or jillaroos if they were ladies.

It had been cool to just lay back for a while, too. The two men had visited all kinds of awesome places on their way to the other side of the world. They'd gone to Iceland, first, and hell, was that ever a party. Scout couldn't remember much of that particular part of their journey, though he knew that they had drank a ton of ale with vikings, and that he had, in a drunken stupor, put his ass over the edge of an active geyser just to see what would happen. Next, they flew over to the nearby United Kingdom – another country with a natural propensity for alcohol, and thus that was a series of stories lost to the mistress of intoxication. Apparently, London was not unlike any Australian city with the high tech gadgetry, only everything was rather more … industrial revolution themed, and everybody wore waistcoats and top-hats. It was awesome, as far as he could remember.

They went to Norway, Spain, Italy, stopped in Thailand for a day or two, and even went exploring the Tibetan mountains to visit the monasteries there. He had read about the countries of the world, visited a couple on occasion to fight some dumb war in out-of-the-way places, but nothing could have prepared him for what Europe, Asia, and Oceania really offered. He had never realised how different people of other cultures were, and he had only just managed to hold his tongue in places of respect like the terribly old and giant cathedrals scattered about the UK and the rest of Europe. He'd shown the kindly Tibetan monks the respect they were due (mostly because Sniper subtly kicked him in the shin whenever he made to swear out of awe of some view or exotic animal). He'd enjoyed the journey all the more because of it, and it wasn't over yet, for they had only stopped in Australia so that Sniper could sell his old home, and then they'd be on the trail across the world again. Japan was next on their list.

Despite all they were sharing in together, Sniper had barely said a word since leaving the US.

While it was commonplace for the Australian to go through long periods of sullen silence, his odd demeanour as of late was disconcerting. Scout put it down to the fact he knew they were heading for Australia and thus facing finally selling his family home. Still, the death of his parents was not a recent occurrence, and Scout had never quite seen him like this. He seemed lost, sometimes, or like he wasn't truly getting any joy out of the places they were visiting. Scout tried taking pictures on his brand new camera to add to Sniper's collection, but he was pretty sure the assassin would be frowning in all of them come their development.

Now that they were in Adelaide, Sniper's mood had turned increasingly dire, and it showed in his face as he turned back to the car and sneered in Scout's direction. He climbed back into the vehicle and sat back with his arms firmly folded over his chest, eyes concealed behind his hat and sunglasses.

"Sorry," Scout bleated. Unsure how to pacify his friend further, he simply drove on, making sure he was staying at a safe speed and far away from any pens and paddocks that they passed. The land was spacious enough that somebody could learn to drive with relative ease, though of course, Sniper probably wasn't the best teacher at this moment in time, growling whenever Scout changed gears too awkwardly or not saying anything at all when he did something right. The boy was quickly growing irritated, though did his best to stay quiet, knowing full well that his friend was probably still grieving.

Soon, they passed off into open space. Adelaide could be seen in the distance. To their side, great, rolling hills went on for miles and miles to form mountains, the dark silhouettes of which could be seen against the beginnings of twilight in the sky.

"Where're we goin', anyway? Is this the end?" Scout asked.

"Not quite. Stop by those hills for a sec."

He did as bid, steering the car closer to the grassy mounds and eventually switching off the engine. Sniper wordlessly opened his door and left to walk towards a break in the hills. The boy watched him for a moment. He wasn't sure if it was the thin cut of his friend's vibrantly khaki-coloured button-up shirt, but the guy seemed thinner, somehow. He had never been the beefiest guy to begin with, but he'd still been fairly broad and firm in the shoulders and forearms. Now, he seemed oddly smaller, and older. Scout didn't like it.

With a swallow, he abandoned the car and caught up in no time at all, racing ahead to venture through the small valley between the hills. His jaw dropped when he reached the end.

Stretched out before him was a sea of yellow. It was some kind of flowering crop that drowned the hillsides in such awesome colour that it was nearly blinding at first, and in the light of the setting sun, each and every petal seemed to glow and bathe the countryside with a beauty unlike Scout had ever seen. Close by, to the east, the land stretched down for a couple of miles, and he could see a lake glittering at the bottom of the natural bowl formed by the hills. Even further in the distance, grey clouds had formed and swallowed the view with heavy rain, but it hadn't reached them just yet, so Scout was free to admire this rare relic of natural beauty in a world so vastly industrialised. Having lived most of his life in Boston, he hadn't gotten out much, but maybe all those years were worth it to see stuff like this.

"Dude!" he said excitedly, rushing up to the field of yellow flowers to pick one and inspect it more closely. "What is it?"

"Rapeseed. It's grown for its oil. You probably know it as canola. This lot always brought in the biggest paycheck of the year – at least until I started getting hired with me job and all."

Scout turned and watched as Sniper lowered himself down onto the hillside, hidden eyes seemingly set on the remarkable view. His sunglasses glowed an ominous shade of orange in the light. The boy suddenly felt oddly uncomfortable, because he could just sense that something bad was coming and there was no chance of him just running off and avoiding it. He'd kind of sensed it approaching for a long time, but now his heart was beginning to beat a little faster and his gut clenched and despite the beauty of their surroundings, he felt horrible. Sniper had brought him out here for a purpose.

"Seems like a good kinda place to talk about something, right?" Scout acknowledged. "Kind of like in a movie, but when the good guy's got some bad news the other good guy doesn't wanna hear."

That brought a small smile to Sniper's lips. "Yeah." As expected, he lit a cigarette and rested his forearms on his knees.

"I thought maybe you didn't wanna come back here, man. I get it, right? I'm not mad at ya for being a grumpy old fuck this whole time. Yeah, when you was teachin' me how to drive? That was pretty cool, man. And, aw, remember when I got my pants pulled down by that monkey in the monastery? That made ya laugh, right? I'm just glad I got to see all that stuff."

A wheezy, growly chuckle escaped the assassin. "Yeah. Look, after everythin' that happened, you just bounced right back up again. I guess I didn't. And there's … somethin' else." Sniper rubbed the back of his neck before transferring his hand to his face, where he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger. His sunglasses then remained at the point of his nose, and Scout could see that the tiredness he had noted way before was still there. "I don't really know how to say it."

"All right, you don't want me here any more, do ya? I get it, you got important assassin stuff to do and I can't get in the way -"

Sniper silenced him with a dangerous look. "That ain't it."

"You sick, man?" the younger of them blurted out suddenly, vocalising the second thought that came into his head. "Yeah, that's it, right? You got that look. That's been it this whole freakin' time! Ah, jeez!" Feeling like he'd just been hit with a sack of bricks, Scout felt almost dizzy for a moment and like he was dreaming, like the whole place wasn't really there. Their surroundings were way too pretty to be real. The kid began to pace to try and absorb the information - because the silence that met him only confirmed that, somehow, he had been right with his likely insensitive assumption. His mind was rife with disbelief, but why would his friend lie to him about something like this? Was this a thing that was actually happening? "Now that respawn's gone, you ain't gonna get better, are ya? I remember Medic tellin' me that some a'the guys would just flat out die if not for the respawn! I didn't think he was bein' serious, but ..."

Sniper's expression of utter shock confirmed it all a second time. Scout, immediately upset, acted without thinking suddenly ran off a small distance, dropping down when he felt he was far away enough and burying his face into his arms and knees because there wasn't anything else that he could do. He didn't know why he was acting like a kid, but it was just his way in the face of bad situations, and somehow he'd just known that something had been wrong this whole time. He never really got to have a proper childhood, because anything good always came with something bad attached and he'd already lost his dad and most of his brothers and how was he meant to face losing someone else again when they were meant to be showing the world who was boss? The joy he had felt on driving like a madman through Sniper's farm was quickly ebbing away to be replaced with horror and shock and all manner of other things.

There had always been a purpose to Sniper taking Scout out alone. Usually, it was to get away from the battles and eat in some random diner so that they could pretend they were normal guys. Sometimes, it was to play some dumb ass prank that left him wheezing with his stupid, Aussie laughter. Once, it was to take the kid home, and then he'd ended up saving his life. And now? Now it was because everything would be coming to an end and it was all that stupid Sniper's fault for being such an idiot-

Scout stood up and attempted to wrestle Sniper away when the other man approached, furious at him for the news and enraged because what the hell was he meant to do now? Go back to Boston and pretend like nothing happened? Somehow, he managed to shove hard enough that Sniper stumbled and landed flat on the back, though given the slope of the hill, it wasn't that much of a distance. Still, Scout immediately knelt beside his friend and clutched his head in his hands in panic.

"Shit – sorry, man – you okay? I didn't mean ta -"

"Shut it," Sniper snapped, finding his cigarette in the grass and shoving it back into his mouth for a moment. He rolled away from Scout and stood, his entire form braced as if he was stopping himself from lashing out in return. After a second or two, he relaxed. "It was those pills, y'know. The Mann Co. ones that like, expand the kidneys or some shit, for the sake of Jarate. Did it ever start to hurt after a while. I went to Medic and he flat out said my kidneys were shutting down, soon to be followed by everythin' else. I thought goin' through respawn would sort it, 'cause that's what happens usually, right?" He paused for a time. "Turns out that every death kind of gets stored in the system so that things can be investigated if needs be. They can take a condition that one of us was in and simply restore it when we pass through it again by setting it as the default."

"Wait," Scout said quickly, grabbing his friend's arm. "They did it on purpose?"

"Yeah. Look, I was buggin' them an awful lot about terminatin' my contract after what happened with me parents. And, well … let's put it this way: when I was doin' some private jobs for the Administrator, that meant I was learnin' more about her business than some of you other blokes. They never wanted to let me go, but as a safety precaution, I guess they set my default to terminally ill. It worked, I 'spose. I got away with you before they could force me into signing another contract, but they've got me in a box, regardless."

Scout thought for a moment, desperately trying to think a way out of the situation. His face lit up with an idea, and he grabbed Sniper's other arm so that he could stare him straight in the face.

"They've gotta still have you in the system, right? So that means they've got a non-terminally ill you! Engie or Spy have gotta know how to hook you up and reset the default! C'mon!" He walked backwards, attempting to tug Sniper along with him. "We'll go back to your place and give him a call and see if he can do it!"

"It's a long shot," Sniper muttered, reluctantly moving forwards. "People not associated with RED can't just contact 'em, let alone enter their bases undetected and use the respawn machine. We can't -"

"Come on!" Scout interrupted, a sudden anger to his tone. There was no way he was listening to any kind of excuse. Not now.

"Lad, there isn't -"

"Come on!" The boy roughly pulled at Sniper again, only to find himself being pulled backwards in turn, and somehow he ended up with his face in the older man's chest. Only then did he realise how hard he was breathing, how hard his heart was beating, and that his arms were locked around the other guy's torso. There came a silence that was far too miserable to be awkward. Something similar had happened when the two were trapped in the desert, but them being in a dreamworld formed by a machine at the time, it was only now that Scout really took note of how warm the Australian was and how he smelt like cigarettes and cheap aftershave. It was like holding on to a beloved pet dog as a kind of farewell, only different, because Sniper wasn't a pet dog. Scout wasn't really sure what he was, but it was something enough that he could feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

No Scout worth his salt cried for anything, but he wasn't a Scout any more.

Feeling calloused but oddly gentle hands at his shoulders, the boy quickly tore away from the weird thing they had going on and raced away into the valley between the hills. Spotting the car exactly where he had left it, he climbed inside and remained sat with his hands firmly grasping the steering wheel. Was this how Sniper had felt when they had crashed and he couldn't do anything but stare helplessly at the casualty next to him? Scout was definitely starting to feel the guilt right about now. He'd called his friend a grumpy old fuck with no idea what the reason behind Sniper's bad mood was, and now he had no real clear idea of what he could do to help. All he knew was that he'd do his best, because he wouldn't be there in that car if Sniper hadn't decided that one time to not be a grumpy old fuck and actually care.

Hearing his friend enter the car, Scout slowly turned his head to regard him.

"If the Administrator had it in for ya, d'ya think that's what caused the crash in ya van?"

Sniper wasn't looking at him. Instead, he was biting anxiously on a finger knuckle and gazing out of his window.

"Good chance, but no worries, mate. You won't get all caught up in this mess again."

"Is that why ya let me come out here with you?"

"Sure. A kid like you shouldn't be wound up with the likes of the Administrator and the guys workin' for her. Better you got out when ya did. Besides," Sniper murmured, lowering his hand and glancing at the younger man, "you said you wanted to see the world. I do, too. May as well do it together, eh?"

The trip back to the house was spent in sullen silence. Scout was rarely comfortable with silence, but he couldn't even acknowledge this one. Maybe that was why Sniper was usually on the quiet side. Maybe he was always worrying. Maybe he just hated people. It was probably a mixture of both. As for Scout, he just felt as if he was in a daze, and he couldn't really put a finger on why. Sniper was, all in all, just some dude that he worked with, a dude who had gotten him out of a sticky situation a few times, just someone he got food with and drank beer with. Why the hell did it feel like he was six years old and him and his Ma had just been walked out on again?

He felt so horrible that he felt sick, so as soon as they got back to the house, Scout rushed to the kitchen and hovered over the sink for a moment. Nope, wasn't going to puke, so he raided the fridge for some of those weird Australian snacks and planted himself on the sofa in front of the TV. Beside the sofa was a red phone with a coiled wire. He eyed it, then placed his chips to one side and reached for the receiver, quickly trying to remember the number to Engineer's workshop. Affected by an adrenaline-rush, it didn't take him long, and he quickly typed the country code and phone number.

Sorry, but the number you have dialled is unavailable.

He tried again, only to receive the same response. Only after the fifth attempt did he slowly hang up and lean back on the sofa, features completely despondent.