Spy And Sniper's Road Trip
Sniper let out a pained grumble as he withdrew his mangled hand. "I kin droive just fine, you bloody spook," he snapped to the mercenary beside him, holding his injured arm up to his chest. His companion, Spy, gave a doubtful snort. The duo carefully trotted down the cliffside from the small warehouse haphazardly built onto the mesa. It was a Sunday- a day off work. And rather than stay with their annoying or dimwited teammates, the Australian and the Frenchman had ambushed a ring of smugglers at the Medic's request. He asked them to harvest Mega Baboon hearts, human livers, and human lungs, and in exchange promised to give them a free pass on his next few physical examinations. The Spy was carrying a tub of organs along with him, looking down at them disdainfully. Sniper carried nothing- he was too wounded to do so.
"You cannot," Spy pointed out. "Unless you're planning to kill us both?" He flicked aside his cigarette and trod across the sun-baked earth, gazing coolly into the tall Australian's sunglasses. "You're not expecting to drive us on zis terrain with only one arm?"
"If I don't trust you in me van, how'm I supposed to trust ya to droive it?" Sniper barked, grudgingly getting in the passenger seat. "Bloody spoy, ya don't' even have a liscense…" He grumbled, folding his good arm across his chest. Spy entered the back of the van and deposited the tub of organs into a small mini-fridge before pacing back around to the left side of the car. Spy climbed into the driver's seat.
"Buckle up, Bushman," Spy grinned mockingly, reaching to withdraw another cigarette from his coat pocket.
"Don't even think about smokin' that in moy van!" Sniper barked. "Oy may not be droivin', but moy rules still apploy!"Spy gave a grumble and tucked the cigarette back into his suit.
"Very well," Spy said grudgingly. "And try to stop bleeding on ze interior of ze van- I have to drive with you again next week, and believe it or not I do not like ze smell of blood."
"Oy don't mine, you prissy Shiela." Sniper grumbled back, wincing as he adjusted his position. "Oy'm not used to real injures," He whined to no one in particular, buckling his seatbelt. "Either oy don't get in any trouble or Oy'm backstabbed. Quick and painless, none of this rubbish. Oy hope Doc can fix this up quickly."
"Ze mad docteur has revived us from wounds much more dire zan zat." Spy muttered, starting the van. "You remembered to harvest ze correct organs for our psychotic medic, correct?"
"Roight. Got no idea what he wants a pair 'a livers for, but I got 'em." Sniper gave a brief nod, gesturing to the small fridge in the back of the truck.
"I'm assuming it's for ze Demoman." Spy responded, holding out a gloved hand for the keys, which Sniper reluctantly produced. "He's insisted on replacing my lungs many times, as well as zat Scottish drunk's liver."
"What about that gioant monkey? It almost took my bloody arm off; it's got to be for something good." Sniper asked as Spy started the van and began the hour long drive back to the base.
"Ze Heavy." Spy said dismissively, glancing out the window at the reddish canyon to their right. Sniper grunted. "We're makin'a lot of money from killin' those smugglers." The marksman yawned.
"Ze money is well and fine," Spy agreed. "But there is some satisfaction in killing people who zink zey are invincible. It is very, very satisfying to stab one in ze back and watch ze rest try to find who did it." There was a long pause, before Sniper gave a little cough.
"Gotta tell you somethin', mate. Oy stole one 'a the animals they were smugglin'." Sniper confessed. "Is that going to be a problem?""
"Only if it wasn't a bird," Spy grumbled. "I will not stand zem."
"Eh- I think it's a chameleon." Sniper offered. "Some kinda rare breed or somethin'." He delicately held out the bright green lizard with his good arm. Reminded me 'a you; cold-blooded, can change colors, and is a total wanker."
Spy gave a little grunt. "I'm busy driving your excuse for a car- do not make me murder you and the lizard." He paused for a moment, and then added, "You're actually going to keep zat?"
"Well, unless 'e boytes or somethin', yeah." Not a minute after, he let out a little gasp of agony as the creature crawled onto his bloody, damaged arm. He squirmed and tried to take it off him, but only succeeded in injuring himself further. "S-Spoy?" He started, voice trembling with pain, "Get 'im away from my arm, this hurts like hell!"
Spy gave a long sigh and stopped the car- as there was no road to pull off of. He turned to Sniper, clearly struggling not to belittle him- but he just couldn't resist as soon as his gaze came to Sniper's face. "Mon Dieu, are- are you crying?" A grin spread across his face and he had to struggle not to snicker in the marksman's face.
"It hurts!" Sniper defended. "If I was Scout I'd be screamin' loike a girl- now hurry up an' get this bugger off!"
"You kill men on a daily basis and you can't stand a lizard on your arm?" Spy chortled.
"Spy, if you tell anyone back at the base oy'm gonna throw you over the cliff." Sniper threatened, wincing. The Australian's face was growing redder with each word- and Spy didn't doubt he'd uphold his promise. He lightly unhooked the chameleon's claws from Sniper's wounded arm and set the scaly creature in the back of the van.
Sniper gave a grunt of relief and Spy set his foot gingerly on the accelerator.
. . .
"Bushman! Sniper!" A French voice barked. Sniper's eyes snapped open and he jolted forward in his seat.
"Huh? Wot?" He shook his head, blinking. "Oy fell asleep?" He asked.
"Yes. You mumble in your sleep- somezing about boxing a kangaroo and becoming king." Spy responded, not looking away from the road. "It was getting irritating."
"Where are we?" Sniper grumbled, rubbing his eyes. He'd examined the road ahead and couldn't recognize anything; although they were on a real, asphalt road now.
"Well. Ah. I was hoping you would know." Spy muttered awkwardly.
"Y'mean we're lost? See, this is woiy I don't let you droive!" Sniper said incredulously, stamping his foot. "How's the chameleon?"
Spy's face briefly flickered in surprise, as though it was the last thing he'd ever thought Sniper would say. "I haven't checked. I was listening to you ramble and trying to drive ze van."
"Haven't done a very good job so far," Sniper muttered, swiveling his head to see the back portion of his van. He was relieved to find the thing curled up by a half-full jar of jarate, on the opposite side of the mini-fridge housing the Medic's new organs. He slumped back in his seat. "We're running low on gas." He observed.
"I've been driving zis damned zing for over an hour." Spy snapped. "If zere was a gas station nearby I would have known by now."
"Well- we should just keep droivin', then." Sniper muttered. They were quiet for a long while, until a sign proclaimed they were five miles away from the nearest gas station.
"Zank ze lord." Spy murmured, pressing his foot harder against the accelerator. They sped off and stopped twenty or so feet from the station.
"Er- Spoy, you have any money on ya?" Sniper asked hesitantly.
He shook his head silently, mentally preparing himself for what he would have to do. He silently slipped out of the van. He cloaked- but if Sniper concentrated hard, however, he could see a very faint reddish outline, only visible to the other eight mercenaries on RED.
"Zis will be ze lowest class place I have ever robbed," Spy grumbled under his breath, then to Sniper: "If you don't tell anyone about zis I won't tell anyone about you crying." Sniper gave a curt nod, not wanting to be reminded, and Spy snuck off.
. . .
Spy gave a little snort, checking his watch. He slipped into the small convenience store beside the gas station, hardly bothering to keep quiet. He was just so damn tired of today. He withdrew his revolver, taking precise aim at the man behind the cash register, and decloaked, firing a single shot at the man's head. The man crumpled like a sack of potatoes. Spy swiped several bills from the register and a map before stalking out. Sniper was waiting impatiently. Spy tossed the money at Sniper and studied the map.
"Merde." Spy hissed, re-checking the map to make sure he had it right. "It's going to take us hours to get back," He moaned.
Sniper swore and stopped filling the van with gas. "What? It's nearly sunset now, Spy, you musta been droivin' in exactly the opposite direction!
"Almost." Spy said uncomfortably, folding the map and placing it in his jacket.
"Jesus, Spoy, we've got work tomorrow!" Sniper moaned. "There is no way oy'm going to kill anyone if I'm up until three in the bloody morning!"
"It's only going to take until midnight!" Spy protested feebly, hating that he made a mistake. "And I'm going to be ze one driving- you can sleep in ze back with your reptile."
"Oy've gotta make sure you don't accidentally drive us to France," Sniper growled back. "And ya better have a smoke now, 'cause oy'm not lettin' ya do it later."
"Fine, fine. Finish filling up ze car and I'll go see if I can find some bandages in zis dump." He waved his hand flippantly and entered the store. With some searching he found some gauze and departed, fighting the impulse to burn down the convenience store. He carefully dressed Sniper's wound, not daring to try anything else. The only ones at the base who knew anything about medicine was the Medic, and the Soldier had just the barest training on how to dig out a bullet or stitch up a wound. "Zis is going to need Medic's help," He observed. He wove the gauze carefully around Sniper's forearm and palm, before giving a little tug on it.
Sniper gave a yelp of pain and jerked his hand away, growling profanities. "That hurts, you backstabbing wanker!" He shouted, struggling away from Spy's grip.
"Lovely." Spy said dryly. "If you're done screaming, we have a place to go." He took a long drag on his cigarette, then flicked it aside. Sniper grudgingly got in the car, cradling the chameleon in his lap. Spy flicked on the van's headlights, examined the map, and set off down the road.
. . .
Moonlight glinted off the van, the only light in the area (besides the van's headlights) for miles. Sniper was asleep, mumbling something tiredly. Spy gave an annoyed grunt, his gaze flicking to the Australian for a few seconds. He shoved Sniper's shoulder hard. Sniper's eyes flickered open. "Huh? Are we there?" He asked, blinking and looking around before yawning widely.
"Not even close. Over an hour and a half, I estimate." Spy said. "I woke you up because you were talking again, and it was getting on my nerves." He gave a tired little grunt. "Do you zink zey're looking for us? We've been out for four hours past our usual arrival time."
"Oy doubt it. Most likely Soldier's standin' guard an' everyone else 's gone to sleep. Maybe not Medic, he stays up late doin' God knows what in the infirmary." Sniper responded sleepily, setting the chameleon on his left shoulder. "If we were gone 'til morning, then they moight worry."
"Glad to know we're so important to zem." Spy said wryly, pressing his foot harder against the accelerator. Sniper's head lolled and soon he was asleep again; the chameleon stared at the slumbering Australian and the irritated Frenchman at the same time.
It was a peaceful ride for the next thirty minutes. Spy had ignored Sniper's wishes and had lit a cigarette, and actually was starting to enjoy himself. Until he thought he heard…
There were sirens in the distance. Spy gave a little hiss of annoyance as the police drew closer, loud enough to wake Sniper. "Spy- what in the name of Saxton Hale-?" He sputtered.
Spy grunted. "Police are after us. Probably because we killed those animal smugglers, stole their organs, and let out their animals to feed on their corpses. Or maybe it was the Mega Baboon slaying and stealing a rare chameleon. I suggest you take ze wheel while I sneak behind zem and stab zem when zey pull you over."
Sniper swore. "Spoy, next Sunday, we're staying at the base."
"Oh, you know you love killing zings with me." Spy flashed a grin and cloaked. Spy pulled over, unbuckled his seatbelt, scrambled over Sniper, threw the door open, went through, and shut it, all before the car came to a complete halt. Sniper shuffled over awkwardly to the driver's seat and set the chameleon in the back. He tucked his hat over his head and felt a nervous fluttering in his chest. He cleared his throat and wished he'd brought a weapon with him.
The officer who came to the car door didn't even get to say anything before Spy stabbed him in the back and kicked aside his body. The other officers gave startled shouts, drawing their guns and firing in their fallen commander's direction. Spy gave a chuckle, and cloaked before they drew. He moved with the agility of a cat, swiftly taking cover behind Sniper's van.
Spy circled around the tense policemen, whispered "Peek-a-boo" and stabbed one hard through the neck. He jerked back quickly, before any blood could spatter his suit, and kicked the freshly dead man into the third cop. He withdrew his revolver and shot the remaining policeman in the head.
"No, I do not zink zey were after us because of ze murders." Spy muttered to himself. "Speeding, maybe, but zey would have sent more if it was anything else." He withdrew a silver lighter and set one of the policeman's clothes aflame. "Alright," Spy called in a bored tone. "We can go." Sniper performed his awkward shuffle back to the shotgun seat and Spy sat down heavily in the driver's. The van roared to life and they moved on.
The desert landscape was blending into a muted, twisted silvery gray. Both mercenaries noticed the cold beginning to creep in after several more minutes of silent driving. Sniper began to shiver, unaccustomed to the cold. He couldn't get the spare blankets in the back due to his seatbelt. He did, however, grab the chameleon, even if it was cold-blooded. He kept the small reptile warm with his own body heat.
"Doesn't zis damn car of yours have a heater?" Spy hissed to Sniper, beginning to feel the cold.
"It broke a long time ago, mate," Sniper mumbled back. "Usually I use them blankets in the back whenever oy'm droivin' in the cold or sleepin' in here." He shook his head slightly, as though trying to keep awake.
"If we freeze, it's your fault," Spy grumbled.
"This is a bloody desert," Sniper complained, shivering. "Why's it so bloody cold? Oy think moy wound 'as frozen shut."
"Quit complaining," Spy ordered. "You're starting to sound like Scout. As soon as we get zere, you can zrow yourself into ze sun for all I care."
"Oy would, but I can't foind the damned thing," Sniper griped. The marksman tucked the frozen reptile closer to his body, and shifted his body slightly. He winced as his arms touched the cold seat. The lizard squirmed a little in protest to being moved, so at least it was alive. Spy passed the map to Sniper. "How far are we from ze base?" He asked, keeping his eyes firmly on the road.
"Oy dunno- it's dark; prolly thirty or forty miles." Sniper responded. "We should be back in half an hour, by our current speed."
"Zat's fine. I recognize where we are now." Spy's voice lost a small amount of tension. There was a few more minutes pause, and Sniper broke the silence. He held up the chameleon, peering at it.
"Does this thing look dead to you?" He asked, poking it lightly. "It's cold and it's not movin'."
"I couldn't give less of a damn." Spy responded coolly.
"Aw, dammit, I was startin' t' like him, too." Sniper said, voice full of disappointment. He set the possibly dead creature into his lap, scowling at it. "Well, if he is dead, oy think oy'll eat him. But if he's not, oy'll keep him." He decided. "Hey, Spoy, do you know what a chameleon eats by any chance? Oy mean, oy can't have him starvin' if he's really alive."
"Once again, I couldn't give less of a damn," Spy drawled, before swerving the car sharply to avoid a boulder in the middle of the road. "Ask Medic. Or Engineer. Zey both have pets."
"Goddammit, Spoy, Pyro is a person." The Australian scowled fiercely. "Both you and Scout are bloody awful to him."
"Scout is afraid," Spy corrected curtly. "I am disgusted. He acts like a mentally defective puppy more zan half ze time."
"He does 'is job," Sniper said uncomfortably, not wanting to defend Pyro but feeling the need to. The chameleon suddenly dug in its claws and Sniper yelped in pain and surprise. "Ah! He's alive!" He paused for a moment, pulling the chameleon away and grinned.
"What is zat idiotic look about?" Spy snapped, Sniper's strange grin not going unnoticed.
"He's got the Dead Ringer, he has. Isn't that what you call the watch that fakes your death?" When Spy gave a curt nod, Sniper continued, still grinning. "In honor of that, oy'm going to call 'im Spook." Sniper grinned wider, and when Spy let out a noisy sigh Sniper began laughing wheezily.
"Stop!" Spy shouted a few minutes later, getting the impulse to slam his co-worker's head against the windshield. Sniper didn't stop until Spy slammed on the breaks. "We're here!" He snapped forcefully. He opened his door and a blast of freezing air met him. Spy gave a violent shudder and shut it quickly. Sniper unbuckled his seatbelt and dug around in the back of the car for a second. He put on a heavy coat and tucked Spook into his pocket. He tossed a scarf at Spy, who gave a sarcastic "Thanks" and put it on, as stylish as ever.
"Thank Chroist we're finally here." Sniper muttered, stepping out and letting out a grunt as cold air assaulted him. "Let's move."
As soon as he took a single step forward, a giant arm almost as thick around as his torso grabbed him. The air was forced from his lungs and he tried to wheeze a warning to Spy.
"Sniper is back!" A familiar Russian voice howled. In response, a very, very faint yell came from somewhere far away.
"H-Heavy?" Sniper stammered as soon as he got his breath back. The giant man released him and he gulped for air. Spy watched cautiously, head tilted, as though afraid the Russian would try to hug him as well. A figure sprinted towards them, and soon enough they realized it was none other than Medic. The German stopped in front of them, grinning. "Ah, you're boz alive, zat's vunderful! You got ze organs I vanted, right?" He glanced at the Spy, then Sniper's wounded arm and blinked. "'Ave you had zat all day?" He looked back at the disheveled, weary mercs. "Vat exactly happened to you two? It's one in ze morning, you vere supposed to be back hours ago."
Sniper shot Spy a glance.
"It's a long story, Docteur." Spy offered. "Right now, we need food, warmth, and Sniper's arm to be healed." Sniper sniffed, gingerly tightening his grasp on Spook.
"Spook needs to get warm too, wanker," His words were met with confused stares from Heavy and Medic.
"Spook's his chameleon. He stole it when we killed ze smugglers." Spy explained. "Heavy, help us carry ze fridge inside." Medic gave an excited squeak and raced into the van to see his new prizes. Heavy lumbered after him, giving a mumbled "Be careful, Doktor."
Spy and Sniper exchanged a glance, then headed swiftly for the base's doors. "Chroist," Sniper breathed, warmth flooding over him. "You go cook somethin', and oy'll get Doc to patch me up." He wandered towards the infirmary, mumbling something under his breath. Spy shrugged and headed towards the kitchen. The Engineer sat, facing away from Spy, and was strumming a quiet, soulful song. Pyro listened dreamily, sitting with his legs crossed and his face held up with his hands- rather like a child sits.
Pyro's head tilted slightly, staring at Spy blankly. Engineer noticed and followed his gaze to Spy. The Engineer set his guitar on the table, stood up, and walked casually over to Spy. He tilted his head up slightly and slapped Spy across the face, hard.
Spy gave a startled grunt of pain, instinctively putting his hand over the injury.
"What in Sam Hill were you thinkin?" Engineer demanded. "We were worried, you backstabbin' snake!" His face was pale and his jaw was clenched in fury.
"I've killed twenty men and a giant primate today." Spy responded coolly, but his voice was getting angrier with each word. "And if zat wazzn't enough, I had to drive around with Snipeur for eight hours. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and all I want is to go to bed." He readied himself for cooking, but his brain and body both felt numb. He couldn't call any recipes up but the simplest, and he knew he couldn't prepare them even if he wanted to. He gave up after a while, and Pyro rose with a little mumble, pushing Spy gently to the table. "Hhh hhh." He instructed.
" 'Sit down,'" The Engineer translated, picking up his guitar again and strumming a chord. "He's gonna cook for ya." Spy was too tired to argue. He sat down and allowed Pyro to get to work.
Meanwhile, Sniper was yowling in pain as Medic attempted to treat his wounds. He was sitting still at a table on an uncomfortable metal chair, holding out his wounded arm for the team's doctor to examine and treat. Medic had announced when he sat the Sniper down that he was going to attempt to do it without his medigun, as he thought he was losing his skill with natural surgery. The Medic was quietly humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like a funeral march. He dabbed at the wounds with a clean white cloth covered in water to wash away the blood.
"Vell, from vat I can tell, it broke ze radius and punctured vith it's top fangs." The Medic revealed after a brief cleaning. He dabbed at the deep wounds with an alcohol-soaked cloth, making the Sniper scream in pain and jerk his arm back. Medic gave a little grin. "Ah, I vas hoping you'd make it fun for me." The Medic seized the Sniper's good wrist and jerked him hard, but Sniper pulled back. The German man gritted his teeth and let go, allowing him to stagger backwards. While he was off guard, Medic yanked his forearm, pulling him towards the operating table for difficult patients. There was a brief tussle that involved the Medic's glasses being broken and several bruises being formed on both fighters. The Medic managed to pin the Sniper down, throwing his wrist into a cuff and shutting it. It locked with a click and Sniper growled furiously.
"Zis may be fun," Medic panted, looking delighted despite the blood dripping from his nose, "But you must lay still or I may accidently break somezing. I vouldn't vant to cause you any unnecessary pain." Sniper gave a grumble and lay still while the team doctor secured cuffs at one of his wrists, his chest, his shoulders, his knees, and his ankles. The Medic held out his arm and continued cleaning while Sniper used every foul profanity he could think of. The Medic nodded. "Hold still, Herr Sniper." He said, in the voice one uses when talking to a stubborn child. He withdrew a long needle and carefully inserted it into Sniper's arm. Sniper gave a little gasp of pain and surprise, and Medic withdrew the needle.
"Zis next part is going to hurt, und I can't concentrate properly if you start screaming." Medic explained. "So you get to sleep zrough zis one." Sniper passed out a few minutes later due to the drug.
He later learned that Medic had burned through his arm for some insane reason, accidentally burning it so badly he had to amputate. At that point, the Medic had given up and used the medigun. A few minutes after the procedure was over, Sniper woke up, slightly delirious. The Medic waited a few minutes until he could properly move and speak, then unlocked his shackles.
Sniper staggered to his feet, giving the psychotic German a glare. The doctor returned the look with a frown. "Mein friend, you veren't even avake to know vat I did, vy must you give me a look of such hatred?" He tutted.
Medic agreed to take a look at Spook because in the end Sniper had cooperated. He declared Spook would survive- and that Spook was a female. Afterward, he'd practically forced Sniper out, with a simple "Gute Nacht" before he'd locked the infirmary doors shut. Sniper withdrew Spook from his coat pocket and put her atop his shoulder, where she perched nobly. She curled her tail around his shoulder and under his armpit, dug her claws in, and ceased movement. "Spook, I woulda been really upset if you'd died," He told the lizard earnestly, stroking her spiny back lightly. She moved a little bit, pricking his shoulders with her claws. Sniper yelped. "Wanker," He muttered to the reptile, but his voice was good-natured. He ambled into the kitchen, where Pyro was serving Spy some kind of steaming hot soup.
"Oy didn't know we actually had real food here," Sniper sighed, setting into a chair. His hunger gnawed fiercely at his stomach, and he started eating. He could barely taste it, but it was warm, almost scalding hot; Plus, both the infirmary and outside had been as cold as Russia in the winter. He downed the whole bowl of soup quickly and had two more helpings before declaring himself done. Spy, however, was just finishing his first.
Sniper gave a little snort of laughter and Spy responded with an arched eyebrow and a glare.
"So." The Engineer prompted the two mercs in front of him. "What's with the chameleon?"