For the first time in this relationship, Scout had no clue as to why Tracer was yelling...
Hell, he didn't even know why she was mad.
The only times she yelled at him was when he wasn't sleeping close enough to her, or if she was on her fiery periods, or if he messed up during her climax.
Neither situation was at hand though... so why was she yelling at him?
Why was she mad?
Scout was unfortunate enough to receive an earful from her as soon as he walked in the house. What made this even worse was the reasoning for it...
"Can I get this straight, Sweet Cheeks? You're mad at me, cause I didn't pick up your calls?" Scout asked, in complete disbelief of how silly the situation was.
He just came back from a long, high-paced jog around the neighbourhood — yes, a high-paced jog around the neighbourhood, because that's what boys with extreme amounts of stamina do for fun...
But while he was on his run, he missed a plethora of calls from his gorgeous girlfriend, and the beloved agent of Overwatch itself — Tracer.
He didn't do it on purpose (he would never do it on purpose), he just happened to have his ringer and his notifications turned off, and whether it was by default or not, he didn't know, but he was certain that he wouldn't willingly ignore Tracer's calls... doing so would lead to aggressive sessions of disciplinary sex that Tracer herself would take lead of.
Disciplinary sex?
Scout thought that was awesome!
Keyword: Thought — past tense and all.
It quickly proved to be the opposite, as it it rarely felt good for Scout, but rather scary.
She was so damn rough on him... but anyways-!
This situation was different... she was very concerned about him being outside for prolonged periods of time because of how common the pretty girls were around this area, and since he was a rather cute boy, he was bound to attract some attention from the locals...
Tracer would know.
And knowing that he hadn't picked up to any of her 50 phone calls, it gave Tracer the green light to be concerned about her partner spewing affiliation with the opposite gender.
But the reality of it was that Scout politely ignored all of them, as he asked himself, 'Why would I need to flirt with other chicks when I already got a friggin' dream girl that loves me?!'
A very good point that Scout made. But this didn't matter, because Tracer assumed the worst.
There was going to be no physical 'discipline' involved. It was going to be cold, verbal discipline that she was going to use on him so he could be set straight instead.
But that was thrown out of the window pretty quickly.
As soon as he entered through the door, he was greeted by a volley of her yells and a flying slipper that launched towards him.
There goes the 'verbal' discipline... she was already trying to take his head off with a damn slipper.
Luckily for him, Tracer couldn't throw to save her life, so he dodged it quite easily.
But she soon followed it up by complaining about her 50 unanswered phone calls. She demanded an explanation. Things were already hot, and Tracer was fuming.
She was furious.
It took him a while, as it always did with every tantrum she threw about at him... but when he knew the exact reason of why she was mad...
Scout couldn't believe it.
"Please don't tell me you're serious." He asked with a hopeful smile. He cautiously walked closer to her as he said it.
Tracer put her hands on her hips, "I am as serious as I can ever be, you damned bloke!" She yelled out, "For all I know, you could be out there doing..." she huffed a breath and curled her lips. She let out another angry huff, "You... you could be doing stupid things that'll piss me off!"
He raised a brow, "Oh yeah? Like what?" He asked, "Running? Taking in the breeze? Running and taking in the breeze?" He asked with a pout of his lips.
His lips annoyed her... it rarely did.
"I can't say anything specific, cause everything you do is bloody stupid. Goofy! Obnoxious!" Tracer yelled.
She was so mad.
She didn't mean to say that, but it came out either way.
Scout arched a brow at her, "Wow..." He let out a disappointing chuckle, "Is... is that really how you think of me?" He asked softly.
He didn't want to show his emotions, but it was oozing out of him no matter how hard he tried to refrain it.
"YEAH! EXACTLY HOW I THINK OF YOU! Stupid, and- and just annoying!" She stressed, "You had one job, love! All you had to do was pick up your damned phone whenever I call — what was so hard about that?!"
"Okay, Sweet Cheeks," He took a breath, "I dunno' what got ya so mad. I just missed your phone calls, it's really not a big deal. And I dunno' why you're so worried! I was just goin' out for a quick jog-"
"Barmy! You weren't jogging!" She interrupted, glaring at him with anger in her brown eyes.
"I was just- wait... what?"
His expression decreased considerably at her denial.
"You weren't jogging!" Tracer insisted.
He heard her clearly now.
"What... what did you think I was doing out there?" Scout asked, quickly connecting the dots.
Tracer didn't respond. She took her eyes off of him and walked towards the kitchen.
But Scout wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
"Hell no," He mumbled to himself, "Seriously, Tracer! What the hell did ya think I was doing out there?" He followed her into the kitchen, demanding an answer.
Tracer refused to turn towards him as she crossed her arms.
"I ain't leaving until I get an answer, Tracer. What did you think I was doing out there?" He asked again, his breaths coming to a slow pace of annoyance.
If it was what he thought she was mad about, then he'd be seriously hurt... how low did she think of his loyalty?
Scout has willingly been Tracer's punching bag for the better part of a year — A very daunting task that few would volunteer as, but he was crazy enough to be a participant of it, because he loved her that much.
He obeyed every word of her's, being her pillow at any time she needed one, regardless of what he was doing at the moment. He made so much time for her, and she had the gall to think that he would attempt to do something ridiculous to the bond that they formed?
His thoughts became true.
After some seconds of silence, she turned towards him.
"What if I thought you were hitting on women and- and gorgeous ladies out there? Huh? What if you were doing that?!" She accused, narrowing her stare on his eyes, the insecurities creeping up on her like night in the day.
"... What?" Scout's voice was filled with disbelief.
His jaw dropped. His eyes filled with pain. His heart beat slowed... his breaths became lowered at hearing Tracer's horrible accusation.
"You... you thought I was... you thought I was cheatin' on ya?" Scout asked painfully, a clear frown now on his face.
He rarely frowned.
"Hmph." Tracer huffed in annoyance and crossed her arms again.
She could see how hurt he was by her accusation, and it pained her to see him in such a state... she was unable to look him in the eyes, she had to stare straight at the floor because of it.
Deep down, she knew she had to apologize quickly, or else it would get worse, but her pride and her pure stubbornness got in the way of that — preventing a solution to the argument.
Scout waited to see if she would apologize as well, and when she didn't...
He felt so... so betrayed.
Betrayed, at how low she thought of his love towards her...
For the first time in his life, he didn't want to be near her... at all.
"If that's what you think of me, then... then...-" Scout gulped and shook his head, unable to complete the sentence of how hurt he felt.
He sighed quietly, "I'm going out for a walk. Bye."
He turned around to walk out the door — gone in an instant, taking his duffel bag along the way, going as fast as his legs would take him.
Tracer took a deep breath as she crossed her arms. She walked angrily towards the opened door, hoping that he hadn't gone too far...
She took a quick look down the hallways, straining her eyes for a boy in a red t-shirt...
No luck.
Tracer's heart started to race.
She bit her lips nervously and twiddled with the tips of her hair, "Oh no... no, no, no." She gulped back a breath as she looked down the hallways once again, hoping that he would come back.
She waited... and waited...
He didn't come back.
"Oh no, no, no! Damn! No- Scout!" Tracer suddenly began to panic as she realized the severity of her mistake.
Now that she had time to think about it, she quickly thought about how much abuse she put on him, but despite it all, he still stuck with her, not giving a single care about her negatives... she wasn't grateful for him... that was her mistake.
Tracer felt her throat beginning to tighten up. She made her way to the couches. Her urge to cry was going through the roof as she cradled herself, wishing that she could reverse time with her own hands.
Her breaths quickened and she caught a peek of her phone on a nearby table.
With no hesitation, she reached for it and tapped on Scout's contact number; quickly sending him regretful texts.
'Scout, I'm so sorry. Please come back :(' She texted.
She waited...
1 second...
2 seconds...
5 seconds...
"Please, Scout. Pick up..." She begged.
She sent another text...
'Please come back. I was stupid to accuse you of cheating on me... I know you would never do it, I was just so paranoid. Please come back, please Scout'
She waited...
2 seconds...
5 seconds...
10 seconds...
She looked at the text she sent for about a minute.
With no reply being given, she felt a tear breaking the barriers of her eye, sliding down her face, and onto the screen of the phone. With a sniffle, more tears slid out of her face, and as the seconds passed, she began to sob to herself.
There was one last option.
A phone call.
Through her blurry vision, she called him, hoping he would pick up.
Seeing the contact picture of his name was hurting her inside — It was a picture of her sleeping soundly against his chest, and with such a beautiful smile that was pointed at the camera.
She cried even harder when he didn't pick up.
She tried one last time, her grip unknowingly tightening around the phone as she cried even harder to herself.
No response.
"Don't leave me, Scout... don't leave me for being so stupid..-" Her throat tightened to the point where she couldn't even form proper sentences.
She sobbed softly as her whole body trembled on the couch, in complete regret of how paranoid she was about his love for her...
She sent another text, the tears dropping one-by-one over her screen...
x
Scout had been outside, casually walking for 20 minutes, no clear direction in his mind, just going where the wind took him.
He was in a mix of emotions.
"How the hell could she think that I'd do something stupid like that?" Scout mumbled to himself.
She actually had the... the thought, that he was cheating on her.
"Come on now, sweet cheeks..." he shook his head, "I'd never do that to ya, but you ain't listenin'." He sighed to himself.
"You never listen."
It was a clear, starry night; the perfect weather to take Tracer out on a walk... but the option to do so wasn't available to him because of what just happened between them.
It was late outside. A bit chilly. Scout wished that he brought his sweater with him, but that meant returning back to the apartment that they were sharing together... and he really didn't want to be close to her after being accused of something so ridiculous.
He sat on a bench that was near a closed warehouse. As he looked around, he could see very few individuals that were walking on the streets... probably going home, coming home from work... or getting as far away from crazy girlfriends as their legs would allow them to.
Scout chuckled.
He still loved Tracer. He would always love her, no matter how many times she took his assertiveness away from him, no matter how many times she would hit him, no matter how many times she loved to accuse him of something he would never do, only for him to prove her wrong later...
He would always love her.
But he needed a break from her... all of her ridiculous antics. Her abuse. Her distrust. Her accusations... it was so much for Scout to handle.
"All this over some stupid phone." Scout shook his head and felt at his pockets for the device.
He tapped on the button to turn the screen on, and he was bombarded by messages and missed phone calls from none other than his girlfriend — Tracer.
"Crazy how she can send this many texts without a damn reply." Scout muttered.
His screen then switched to a pending phone call, coming from the contact, 'Sweet Cheeks'...
... the display picture beside her name was of her in a very... endearing pose.
Attractive.
100% sexy, and nothing else.
Lingerie on her gorgeous, almost-nude body with her ample rear sticking out, and her lean finger beckoning towards his camera. A seductive smile that yearned for him, dark brown hair that was beautifully twisted and turned in every direction, and glorious brown-coloured eyes that could send him straight to the bed if he was being naughty...
"Jeez. How didn't I answer 'this' beautiful 'gal earlier?" He asked himself.
He sighed as he looked at the picture, alternating looks between the 'Decline' option, and the 'Accept' option.
He let the phone call pass, and his screen suddenly switched to the mass amount of texts he had missed from her.
One text read...
':( :( :( I'm hurting so bad, Scout. Please come back'
His heart felt like it had gotten punched at reading the text.
He hated seeing her hurt, or knowing she was hurt — and that text of her's spelled it out pretty clearly to him, that she was hurt.
He then saw another text, which read...
'Please, babe. I was stupid to accuse you of cheating on me... I know you would never do it, I was just so paranoid. Please come back, please Scout'
That did it for him.
As soon as he unlocked his phone to reply to her, the winds began to pick up...
Scout took no mind of it. He began typing his message to Tracer.
'Be back in 15 mins. Sit tight, gorgeous :3' He texted.
Impressively, she returned his text back in an instant.
'Please hurry, Scout. It's getting late and I need you here with me.'
Scout snickered at her text, but before he could reply...
A crow's howl could be heard in the distance... which was followed up by what sounded like a platoon of crows flocking over a dead person...
"We ain't even near the countryside, what the hell?" Scout looked around nervously.
As soon as he looked up from his phone, the moon seemed to have a darker aura to it... the chill on his skin grew stronger, and he felt a tingling feeling up his spine that injected nervousness into him... the feeling of someone watching him, becoming stronger by the second.
The night seemed to have its own voice...
"Death... comes..."
"Crap," Scout zipped open his duffel bag and quickly pulled out his gear — His scattergun, his pellets, his pistol, his clips, and his Sandman.
He stuffed his baseball in his pockets and unknowingly left the phone on the bench.
The phone was blowing up with notifications.
He felt the winds around him getting stronger, and he responded to it by acting quicker.
He pulled a can of 'Bonk!' from his duffel bag and held it in one hand, his scattergun in the other. He stood ready, examining his surroundings as the chirping of the crows got louder.
Then... there was complete silence.
Scout remained cautious, and waited for the arrival...
He heard a slight shuffle behind him, and with a quick turn, he pulled the trigger — Hitting a shadow.
The pellets sped right through the shadow. It then materialized into the Talon member that Tracer had told him to be cautious of.
"'Sup, creepy face?" Scout greeted, pointing his barrel at the figure.
"DEATH!" Reaper yelled out.
Reaper pulled the triggers of his hellfire shotguns quickly, eager to fill his body with the hot bullets of death.
Scout let out a manly yelp as he dodged every bullet, and managed to fire some back as well. But his firepower would prove to be no match up close with Reaper's dual-shotguns.
He doubled back and continued firing at the literal shadow as he strafed around him with his incredible speed.
Scout landed each shot on him, "Your aim sucks, fella!" He taunted, running circles around him.
He was doing a fantastic job at dodging the pellets of Reaper's shotguns, and when he realized that he was actually gaining the advantage in the fight, he took full use of it by deciding to consume a can of 'Bonk!'.
But as soon as he stopped to open the can, a sniper's shot crackled in the air.
The shot barely missed his hand, but completely smoked the can of 'Bonk!' that he was once holding.
Reaper chuckled and aimed his shotguns towards the mercenary.
"You're gonna become a sniper's target dummy if you try running away from here, Scout — She has the whole block locked down. One shot, and you're gonna be limping. Two shots... and you're dead." He threatened with a raspy finish.
Obviously, Scout called his bluff, as he ran further away from him, "Bullcrap. Watch me!"
He quickly came to regret the decision, as another sound of a bullet crackled throughout the air — ripping through his calf.
His eyes widened in shock as time slowed down on him, the disbelief running freely in his blood. When time returned to its normal state, he bit his lip in pain as he fought through it, hustling as he turned around, running towards the entrance of the warehouse.
He continued to fire shots at Reaper, all of it missing due to how sporadic his aim was.
"Ugh! I friggin' hate campers!" Scout dodged another of the sniper's bullet, but barely. He burst through the warehouse door that fortunately, wasn't locked.
Scout looked around frantically for any places suitable for fighting Reaper on a wounded leg. He looked left, he looked right, he looked straight... he looked up...
The lights in the warehouse turned on, as well as the imaginary lightbulb inside of his head.
He began scaling the shelves of the warehouse equipment, his double jump coming in handy as he scaled the shelf. He cursed out at the sharp pain travelling up his leg, as blood could now be seen through the fabric of his pants.
Reaper kicked the door open with so much force, that Scout was sure that a mark had been made on it.
Scout had finished scaling the shelf, and he looked down from his heightened position.
"God damn it - this hurts." He scowled. He pulled out his pistol and aimed carefully, despite the annoying pain that lingered in his leg.
Reaper walked the aisles of the warehouse, holding his shotguns straight, looking side to side, letting out an occasional burst at any shuffle he heard.
"Let death take you already." Reaper scowled out, eyes alert for a boy in a red shirt.
Scout focused and took aim on his head.
He pulled the trigger, and the bullet collided.
Reaper's head shot forward from the impact of the bullet, causing dark, gooey matter to evaporate from his head, and onto the floor. His mask suffered a slight crack from the top, and he turned around almost instantly, firing his shotguns at the top of the shelves.
"How ya like that dat, chucklehead?!" Scout taunted.
He stood up, ignoring the pain, and hopped from one shelf to another, firing multiple shots at Reaper as he did so. He landed 3 consecutive hits on his body, forcing black matter to spew out it's wounds.
"Death beckons for you!" Reaper yelled out, running and gunning the top of the shelves, blasting through the various equipment of the warehouse.
A stray pellet ended up hitting the lightbulb of the warehouse, causing it to break, which lowered the overall vision of what Scout could see.
He winced his eyes at the sudden loss of light being taken away from him.
Reaper now began shooting the lightbulbs instead, causing sparks and sharp glass to fly throughout the space of the building.
Scout winced his eyes even more as the lightbulbs broke away one by one. He gasped in pain as a stray piece of shrapnel launched at his waist, forming a deep cut where it landed.
"Agh!" He felt at his waist, where a slow flow of fresh blood was travelling out of.
"God damn.." He continued jumping from shelf to shelf as he fired at Reaper as accurately as he could with his pistol.
Reaper shot out the lightbulbs until there was no more left. All of the light bulbs were either destroyed, or left to flicker on and off until it would eventually run out of juice.
Reaper focused his fire towards the shelves that Scout was strafing across on, eager to land pellet upon pellet against his legs.
Scout took a peek at the door that lead to the exit, but Reaper seemed to follow his stare all the way.
"You're not going towards that door, Scout. I'll kill you before you get to it." Reaper said.
"'Ey, shut up ya fucko'!" Scout yelled from above, dodging another one of his shots.
He fired back, but quickly retracted his hand as a bullet grazed against his wounded wrist, slightly ripping his wraps apart. He hissed in slight pain as he reloaded the clip.
He felt at his sides for the magazines of his pistol...
"Four more clips to use on this damn creep." He tried to do mental math in his head so he could figure out how many shots he had left...
He failed quickly at that.
Reaper stopped firing at the top of the shelf and instead focused fire at the base of the shelves.
Scout felt the effect of it, as he felt his body sliding off the side of it. Quickly, he hopped onto the next shelf, then the next one, then the next one...
Reaper timed his shot perfectly.
As Scout was in mid-air, he quickly aimed upwards and fired... 5 warm and thick pellets landing on his body was the result of the shot.
He felt the immediate pain of hot lead piercing his skin.
He couldn't grip the edge of the shelf in time as he found himself falling towards the ground. To prevent the breaking of his legs, he jumped twice in mid-air, ensuring a soft landing as he landed on the cold warehouse floor.
Scout could feel his body slowly giving out. He grunted in pain and did his best to holster his pistol away. He pulled out his scattergun, ready for a fight.
"Die!" Reaper yelled.
He walked towards Scout with a menacing stance, firing pellet upon pellet against him.
With each stray shot that landed, his body was slowly withering away, and with very few options left, he decided to run... and gun.
He ran towards Reaper, dodging 2 consecutive shots with his quick sidesteps.
Reaper then threw his shotguns at the ground, where it seemed to melt away into nothingness. Two new shotguns suddenly started to take form in his hands, but before Reaper could even lift them, Scout double jumped above him and landed a perfect meat shot on the top of his head, bathing the floor with a dark substance.
He stumbled slightly at the sharp pain in his leg when he landed but continued to fire at the back of Reaper with no hesitation.
"DIE, YOU PIECE 'A CRAP!" Scout yelled as he landed meat shots upon meat shots against Reaper.
Reaper kneeled at the impact of the scattergun's bullets scorching his back, unable to get his bearings straight as he felt his matter slowly withering away from him.
Quickly, Reaper went into wraith form — the bullets sliding right past him, and into the floor.
His cellular structure regenerated quickly while he was in wraith form, and the holes that were once in his body filled up with healing shadows — the cells quick to regenerate.
"Aw c'mon! That ain't fair." He took a cautious step back from the regenerating figure.
Reaper turned around slowly and faded out of his wraith form, the shadows around him acting as a dark aura as he walked towards him.
"You're dying today, you insolent brat." Reaper fired another shot from his shotguns, barely missing the midsection of the mercenary.
"Southies don't die to fucko's like you." Scout pulled the trigger of his scattergun again, but to no avail, the bullets just seemed to faze through him...
He wasn't even sure if the bullets were landing anymore.
"Shit." Scout pulled the trigger again...
*clink*
He arched his brows, "What the-?"
*clink clink*
"Out of ammo." Reaper snarled out for him. He fired another shot at him, ducking from the blast with pristine reflexes that were going to run out rather soon.
"Shut up, assface!" Scout threw his scattergun at his mask, and pulled out his pistol, firing 10 quick shots at the robed terrorist.
All shots landed... as well as the scattergun.
But he seemed unfazed by it.
"Why won't you just fuckin' die?" Scout continued to back up until he felt a cold wall at his back...
No more room.
"No where to run." Reaper growled out.
He fired 2 consecutive shots, 4 pellets landing among his body — 2 on his arms, and 2 on his waist.
He snarled out in pain, holding his side as he mustered up enough strength to pull out his Sandman.
"A baseball bat will not help in your escape."
Quickly, Scout pulled his baseball out from his pockets and propelled it towards Reaper's mask with the help of his Sandman.
Reaper's shots went awry as he snarled out in slight pain, his head shot back as a result from the impact of the hit.
Scout chuckled, "That's a home run, you creepy fuck!"
While Reaper was stunned, Scout took full advantage of it.
He ran past him, and despite the slight limp of his legs, he was still considerably quick. The adrenaline in his body wouldn't allow him to slow down, not now. The pain in his sides increased by the second, and his arms were beginning to cramp up as well.
Reaper let out a furious cry and turned into a volley of shadows as he chased after Scout in the narrow aisle.
Scout didn't dare a peek behind him.
The exit of the warehouse was just up ahead, 10 more steps and he'd be gone...
2 steps...
5 steps...
8 steps...
He crashed the door open... which triggered a distinct *clink* to arise in the air.
Scout felt a sharp pain pierce his chest as the sound let out a distinct *crackle* in the air. His eyes widened in shock as his pace slowed down almost instantly. His legs stopped working... his body soon followed. His eyes remained widened and his breaths slowed down...
His whole body collapsed.
His eyes remained in complete shock, letting out slow breaths as he stared at the concrete beneath him.
He felt cold, sharp, fingers grabbing at the back of his neck.
"Excellent shot, Widowmaker. The brat's down." A cold voice muttered.
Scout groaned weakly and stared in horror as he felt himself getting dragged back into the building, the merciful moonlight disappearing from his view.
"We're gonna have some fun, Scout..." Reaper paused and walked back outside.
Scout tried his best to get back up, but like a cow on it's last legs, he quickly faltered back to the ground, struggling to keep himself conscious. He kept his eyes glued to the door, crawling towards it... The thought of Tracer being completely devastated of what was happening to him gave him a small boost of energy to lift himself back up.
But it was useless, as Reaper returned shortly after, kicking Scout down to the floor.
Scout groaned and looked up to see what Reaper was holding...
What was in his dead hands terrified Scout...
It was his phone...
"We wouldn't want Lena to miss out on this." Reaper muttered, casting an evil turn towards the screen of his phone.
Scout's blood turned cold at hearing him mention Tracer's name.
"Don't... no.." His voice started to slur as he uselessly reached for the phone that was well out of his reach.
x
Tracer sent about 70 unread text messages to Scout, 3 of which he replied to.
She could see that her texts were being left on read after the last one he sent, which was a hopeful,
'Be back in 15 mins. Sit tight, gorgeous :3'
Oh how she loved that emoticon.
It seemed to represent Scout so well, him and his loving nature, how it was so boyishly cute and sweet at the same time... so childish, so young...
Tracer couldn't stop thinking about the positives that made Scout so damn addicting.
She sent yet another text,
'Scout, you're seeing my messages, but you're not replying. Can u pls send a text back... I'm getting worried'
It had been 5 minutes since he sent his last text, and she was getting concerned.
Normally, she started assuming the worst... the nagging thought of him cheating on her annoyingly made its way to the back of her mind, but she found the faith inside of her to draw away from that conclusion, and assume something else...
She wouldn't have to think or assume any longer, as the screen showed a pending call from him...
She picked up immediately, and instead of hearing the warm voice she expected to hear on the other end, she instead heard a cold, dead voice that sounded eerily familiar to her.
"Come get your boyfriend, Lena. He could use the help." A raspy voice answered.
Tracer gulped as her eyes widened, "Oh, god. Scout!" She yelled shakily. The fear quickly turned into pleads, "DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM, YOU MONSTER!"
The voice scoffed, "Come to the warehouse. It should be entertaining." It requested with a scratchy rasp.
Quickly, Tracer dropped her phone, making a quick dash for her chronal-accelerator, almost stumbling as she worked her way around the rooms. She had no time to put on her normal battle attire, so she had to make due with her tight blue jeans and her black t-shirt instead. She quickly strapped the device onto her chest and blinked towards her pulse pistols that were on the nightstand of her bed.
She slipped into her shoes and went straight out the door, blinking through the hallways like a speeding bullet.
She just hoped... prayed, that she would make it in time.
She didn't want Scout to die.
Not after an argument... she'd be devastated if he died, knowing that her last interaction with him was a useless argument.
x
Scout's body was being terribly abused by Reaper while he was unconscious... he punched, clawed, and striked the poor boy everywhere.
After the third wave of fists, he was successfully beaten out of his unconsciousness by the cold fists of Reaper.
He deeply inhaled at regaining consciousness, only to get a fist directed straight to his face.
He groaned out at the cold floor beneath him, the fight in him completely beaten out, defeated by the cold manifestation of Death itself...
Reaper.
The door suddenly banged open, a petite figure approaching from behind it, toting 2 small pistols in her hands.
"Scout!" She called out, pointing the weapons at Reaper, firing without hesitation.
He turned into a shadow and managed to grip Scout by the neck and hurl his mangled body further away from her, and into the open warehouse floor. His shadow quickly slithered to where his body landed, reverting to his normal state.
Reaper pointed a shotgun at Scout's head, fingers ready to pull on the trigger, which was effective in stopping the woman in her tracks.
"He's dead meat, Lena. You shoot, I kill."
Tracer inhaled shakily, unsure of whether or not she wanted to call his bluff.
She didn't know what to do.
She looked on in horror at what Reaper had done to him...
Scout was a mess.
His blood flowed everywhere from his forehead, all the way to the tarnished skin of his shins. His lips were cracked, his mouth was gushed with blood, his stomach had bullet scathing, the wraps on his wrists were ripped...
There was blood everywhere — on the floor, on the wall, on the door... on his clothes...
The black-robed murderer chuckled and turned him around, making him face towards his pale, bloodied mask.
His eyes lazily landed on his partner, who was frozen in place, "T-Tracer... Run-"
He was cut off swiftly with a strike to his battered cheek.
@That poster girl's not going anywhere," Reaper held the barrel of his shotgun to Scout's head, point-blank and hot against his face. He then looked towards Scout's partner with a side glare, "sit tight, Lena — Your stupid accelerator won't save him either." He snarled out coldly, fingers ready to pull, daring her to move an inch.
Tracer never backed down, and she never took orders from the wrong figures, but this situation forced her to think otherwise, as she had to make sure that the murderer wouldn't pull the trigger upon his head.
Tracer took a shaky breath, finally coming to a hesitant decision as she obeyed his command.
"You're... you're fucking cruel, Reyes! Bloody cruel! WHY WON'T YOU JUST LEAVE US ALONE?!" Tracer questioned, huffing, trying her absolute best not to break down at the sight of the bloodied, defeated Scout that laid below Reaper's shotgun.
Every second she spent looking at Scout was filled with extreme sadness, and fear.
"... WHY?!" She sniffled, her voice became softer, "why?" She could feel her voice threatening to crack.
Reaper chuckled, "Silly, Lena... still naive... and stupid, like the last time I had seen you."
"The only stupid one here is you... you friggin' scarecrow." Scout grimaced painfully, his lips bleeding more as it curled upwards.
"Do you ever shut up?" Reaper snarled out, and pressed his shotgun harder upon Scout's face, immediately wiping the grin from his lips. The heat from the shotgun's barrels started to make a mark against his face, which caused a casual sizzle to erupt into the air.
Scout winced at the burn, and yelled out painfully as Reaper pressed the barrel harder on him.
"SCOUT!" Tracer shrieked at seeing this, but refused to move, "No- no! Stop! STOP!" A tear then started to form from the bottom of her eye, "Stop... D-don't do it..." She stuttered nervously.
Reaper slowly inched his dead fingers towards the trigger.
Tracer now began to sob, pleading for Scout's life, "No. P-Please... please don't kill him, please no..." Her voice became even softer, and her stance began to falter, her body slowly crumbling to the floor.
Her pulse pistols were no longer in her hand, the fear of Scout dying was too much for her to handle as she started to sob uncontrollably.
"Reyes, don't kill him- please..." She began to tremble as her eyes started to get puffy, "Please. W-we can fix you, I- I don't know how, just-" She choked back a tear,
"... J-just don't kill him." She pleaded, crying out hopelessly, finding no other words to say.
Reaper scoffed, "I don't need a 'fix', stupid girl. I need every one of your friends to die... starting with this pathetic, insolent brat." He said slowly, his tone haunting.
Scout gritted his teeth and continued to fight through the burning pain.
"Big words for a lil' wuss like you," Scout spat out blood from his mouth, and onto Reaper's shotgun, "Killin' me is whatever... I'll just come back and haunt you for the rest of ya life..."
"Scout, stop..." Her tears came down faster at Scout's stubbornness.
Reaper let out a low growl at his annoyance.
Scout smiled once again at his reaction, wincing even harder to continue speaking.
"But if you..." He made a vain attempt to point at Tracer with his scarred fingers.
".. if you fuckin' do anything to her, I'm gonna... Agh!" He coughed out in pain, the blood loss becoming a real thing around his stomach. His stare then went to the ceiling as he continued to breathe what would probably be, his last breaths.
Reaper let out a sadistic chuckle at his pain, "What, will you do, Scout? Kill me?"
Tracer was crying as they talked to each other, completely broken at the sight of Scout being at the mercy of Reaper.
"Yeah! I'll- gah... I'll kill you, and use your damn dress as tissue to wipe my ass when I'm done with it!" He coughed out again, violently this time, struggling to hold onto his consciousness for the second time.
Even when close to death, he was still as witty as ever.
Reaper looked at him in silence, the shotgun still being held to his head. Seconds later, the other shotgun in his hand pointed to his leg.
Scout's eyes widened.
He forced himself to grin at the murderer again, "... Sh-sh-shoot me there... I f-frickin' dare you.." He coughed out blood from how loud his voice was.
Tracer looked on at complete horror.
"SCOUT, NO!" She screamed out, her eyes watery from the tears, "Scout, stop talking, stop talking, please, please, please!" She pleaded with every ounce of hope inside of her.
Her hands were cradled around her head as she felt completely terrified, not having an idea on what to do.
She couldn't attempt a rescue on Scout, because he was in such a horrible state, that he couldn't even move. And if she did try anything, Reaper would automatically pull the trigger, and not even her blink was quicker than the pull of his trigger.
She felt a feeling of extreme dread tearing down at her, her whole body frozen with fear.
"... You dare me to shoot you in your legs?" Reaper asked, a horrible expression of sadism forming beneath the mask.
"Yeah... cause-" He coughed out again, "If- if you don't, I'm gonna get back up and kick ya to the damn curb!"
He painfully turned his head so he could look at Tracer.
"Scout..." She called out his name helplessly, her lips whimpering even more at how bloodied his eyes looked.
Seeing her in such a state of sadness almost caused him to shed a tear as well...
His cheeks suddenly felt wet.
Seeing Tracer in so much emotional stress was worse than what Reaper did to his body... worse than any physical pain he could imagine. He so desperately wanted to comfort her, have her in his arms, embrace her with his warm, assuring hands, and tell her that none of this was real, and it was just one of those bad dreams she had...
He wished that he never left to go out for a walk, he regretted it so much... he wished he could rewind time and slap himself for being so stupid...
He wished.
"Tracer, don't-" He let out a violent fit of coughs, blood erupting from his mouth, and onto the floor, "... d-don't worry, Tracer... Don't matter if I'm dead or alive... I'll... I'll keep ya safe." He let out a sharp exhale as he winced his face to keep his stare focused on her.
"I... I love you, Tracer..."
"Scout... please don't go..." She blabbered out, wishing that this wasn't real — wishing that none of it was.
Despite the pain he was in, he managed a chuckle, "Heh... I wish that was up to me, sweet cheeks... but it looks like this friggin' Halloween costume ain't lettin' me go.." He made a painfully slow attempt at reaching his scattergun that was to his side.
Reaper let out a deathly laugh, "That's gonna cost your leg."
With the pull of his trigger, the shotgun that was pointed at his leg suddenly erupted thick bullets from the barrel.
Scout screamed out in pain as his head shot back to the ground, his body squirming at the burning pain of his leg being blasted apart.
"NOO!" Tracer sobbed even harder at seeing Scout in so much pain. She was so desperate to help him, that she began to move closer with a slugged stance.
"Move closer and I'll take his life." Reaper said without even breaking his stare at the boy below him.
Tracer cried out again, the tears becoming ten folds as it slid down her cheeks with ease. Her heart felt hurt... Devastated, when she saw his leg... and when she saw his face... it was what nightmares were made out of...
Scout was going to die.
Tracer didn't want to believe it — any of it. She hoped that this was just a terrible nightmare she was having, but this was as real as ever. There was no saving him, because he would die either way, be it from blood loss, or one last fatal blast from his shotgun, or if she moved even an inch closer towards him, Reaper would not hesitate to end his life quickly.
There wasn't anything she could do. For the second time in her life, she felt powerless... unable to do anything to prevent tragedy from happening.
It saddened her tremendously, and caused her to break down in tears for the third consecutive time... she was done trying.
She backed down. She gave up.
She watched uselessly in fear as Reaper stood over Scout.
He huffed out painfully as his eyes began to roll to the back to his head, his vision whitening.
"Oh god damn... I can see the light... I can see it..." He muttered weakly.
"That's not the light of day you're seeing, Scout," Reaper pressed the barrel of the shotgun against his temple, "... That's the light of death approaching."
"You... friggin'... suck."
Scout managed to smile and flip the bird at Reaper one last time... also managing to give one last, blessed smile of his to the scared Tracer before he met his fate.
"I'm sorry for leaving you, Tracer... stay gorgeous."
A crackle thundered across the room, ending his sentence.
Gore splattered the nearby walls, and once again — Reaper was adorned with blood.
"Target down." Reaper muttered coldly.
Time froze for Tracer.
"Scout..." her mouth dropped so far down, that she was almost certain she lost it along the cold floor. She unknowingly started to inch closer towards his limp body, her body trembling the closer she got to it.
"Your other friends are next, Lena." Reaper then shifted into a sludgy substance of darkness, and dissapeared into the vents, leaving his shotguns to rot on Scout's dead, battered body.
"You- you monster!" Tracer blinked for her pulse pistols, "YOU BLOODY MONSTER!" She shot at the entrance of the vent, blasting the material apart with her pulse rounds. There was an influx of emotions clogging her brain — dread, fear, sadness, pain... so much pain, despite not being harmed.
Tracer continued firing randomly until she threw her weapons down in anger, "You'll pay for what you did! DO YOU HEAR ME, REYES?!" Her voice was shaky, and her legs started to feel weak.
Her eyes wandered over Scout's dead body again, instantly feeling sick and weak to the bone.
She exhaled shakily, "You'll... you'll pay..." The tears found it's way to her face again. She collapsed to her knees and went closer towards his body.
"Oh my god, Scout..." She trembled at the sight of how desecrated his corpse was.
One leg was blasted open, the other was scarred all over. His waist suffered tiny rips and bullet grazes. His shirt was fused with his blood, his arms were bloodied, and... and his face...
Dear god, his face...
Tracer couldn't look anymore.
"Oh god..." She held onto his still warm hands, which were undoubtedly going to go cold any minute.
She let her tears fall onto his body, wishing that she could take back everything she accused him of.
"I'm... im gonna find him, and I'm gonna kill him... I'm-" She sniffled, shaking her head as she buried her face onto his limp wrists, "this is my fault. All my fault... I shouldn't have accused you, I shouldn't have been so stupid... I'm-"
Her voice cracked, unable to contain the overwhelming flow sadness that was destroying her.
"I'm so sorry, Scout.. I'm so sorry..."
Her throat tightened and she began to sob to herself again.
"I love you, Scout..." She squeaked out softly.
She continued muttering it to herself as many times as she could, and after a few moments, crying it out as she drowned in her infinite sorrow.
Up until this day, she has never felt so... so... devastated.
He was gone.
The one that Tracer loved, and wanted for the rest of her life, was gone — Dead, at the hands of Reaper...
She cried harder at the reality of it all.
Time seemed to break on itself as every passing second was cruel to her, finding herself unable to stare away from his deceased body... as if the world wanted her to see what she had done to him...
This was Karma.
She took him for granted, and she ended up paying the ultimate price for it...
His death.