This story was derived from a dream I had not too awfully long ago, and I thought that... well.. you fine readers might be interested! I'm also trying to work on longer chapters, this one is SUPERLY DOOPER LONG! :3
Characters belong to Valve!
He wasn't a very social person. Nobody could truly say that they know him well enough. Nobody really goes out of the way to bother him, or make friends. Well, except for Demoman and Engineer... maybe even that little hyped-up mongrel, Scout. But that was because they were the more social men in the group. He was on the other end of the spectrum. So unattached from the rest of them, that he has his own living quarters separate from the barracks, up in the loft of one of the barns in the battlefield of 2Fort. His place of residence and work.
He couldn't have it any other way.
He likes the silence. The way he can hear himself think. It's reassuring. Comforting.
Sometimes... overwhelming.
This was one of those late night -early mornings where he just couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried to. Something was always nagging on his mind, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly that was causing his sleep deprivation. It felt like a painful, writhing little nugget lodged deep within his stomach, and it seemed to like the silence, too. Whenever he does go into the main barracks, and actually socializes with a couple of his fellow co-workers, the pain seems to subside a bit. But it never fully left.
Never.
So, to occupy himself in the hours he should be sleeping, he took up one of his favorite little hobbies. Knitting.
It kept the marksman's hands busy while he thought.
He sat up in his hammock, similar to a sugar glider pouch, he mused, and picked up his needles and his 'work in progress' off from the table sitting beside him. Across from his hanging bed was a small window, the same small window that he shot heads from, but also used for simple star-gazing during nights like these.
The night progressed like this for a good thirty minutes, until a small creak from the floor boards spooked him enough from his trance.
It came from the middle of the room.
'Strange.' He thought to himself. 'There ain't no wind.' His eyes slowly scanned to the window while thinking this, then widened when he came upon a conclusion.
He whipped around an grabbed up his SMG that also had it's place on the table behind him, and aimed at the space in the middle of the room.
"Awroight spook, ya bettah show y'self."
His team was in desperate need of a spy. It had been four months since the previous BLU Spy retired from the never ending battle, and the rest of the mercenaries thought that they could handle everything just fine without.
Nope. Never could be anymore wrong.
Ever since his leaving, BLU hadn't won a single battle. Who would've known that spies could be that important? The BLU Soldier thought that it was just the team's morale that was keeping them from victory and started punishing them for each loss they received. Engineer, being the voice of reason in most arguments and difficult times, suggested that their failures were because they were outnumbered and that instead of punishing the classes that they already posses, they should obtain the ninth one to have equal advantage.
"Hmm... I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK, PRIVATE!" Soldier pats the Texan on his back almost hard enough for his hard hat to fly off his shaven head. Engineer simply lifts it back onto his head with his left hand, and sports a slightly uncomfortable smile towards his 'leader'. "I'LL PUT AN ORDER IN FOR HQ AT... " He stops to looks at the ceiling and stroke his chin thoughtfully. "OH EIGHT HUNDRED TOMORROW." He looks around at all his fellow soldiers in a sweep. "ALL THE REST OF YOU MAGGOTS ARE DISMISSED FOR THE EVENING! ME AND ENGIE WILL PUT IN FOR A NEW PRIVATE." Soldier then does an about-face, and leaves the conference room, while everyone else roles their eyes and thanks the Engineer. Especially Scout, whose last punishment included the latrines and his toothbrush.
Today was his first day at 2Fort.
He came by the supply train, along with the monthly shipments of ammunition and rations, which the team seemed to be more fond of than himself, and completely overlooked his presence. He just shrugged it off and went to the main barracks to meet the eight men he was to work with.
As soon as he went into what could be considered the living room, he bumped right into Soldier, who made him jump from shock and lose his luggage. When he slightly recovered, he apologized and tried to bend down to pick up his things. This only earned him a barking at.
"WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, YOU SNAIL-SLURPING... wait, when did you get here?" Spy opened his mouth to answer, only to be interrupted. "WELL, THAT DOESN'T MATTER NOW, HUH? STAND UP STRAIGHT, CROUTON, LEMME GET A LOOK AT YOU!"
Spy stood as straight as the human skeleton could possibly let anyone, and tried to avoid eye contact with the taller man as Soldier scrutinized him.
He looked to be just a smidgen older that their Scout, with no facial wrinkles on the visible pieces of face. Very skinny, something he would have to fix. Then he noticed that he was vibrating in his shoes, and chuckled slightly under his breath.
"AWW! ARE YOU SCARED? DO YOU WANT YOUR MOTHER?!" Soldier proceeded to jab him in the chest with a meaty index finger, which made him stumble backwards a bit. "YOU ARE THE SORRIEST EXCUSE FOR A SPY THAT I HAVE EVER SEEN IN ALL OF MY ELEVEN YEARS OF SERVICE! BUT... I guess I can make improvements..." He broke eye contact to look away for a bit, then noticed that the spy was still standing there. "WELL? WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE, PRIVATE? I'M SURE THE MEDIC WOULD LIKE YOU TO GET YOUR SORRY ASS OVER TO HIS OFFICE TO GET A CHECK UP! LET'S GO! HUP-TWO! HUP-TWO!"
Unknowing of how he pulled it off, he did an about-face with his luggage and proceeded to march out of the room involuntarily to the maniac's cadence. At least until he got out of earshot of the man. That took a lot of marching.
It was an hour later, and he still hadn't found the Infirmary. Just when he was about to give up and curl up in a corner of the hallway network, he heard the mumbles of two people conversing. 'Dieu merci! I'm saved!', he thought as his eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face.
He followed the voices around the bend and peeked around a corner to see a tall, black, one-eyed man with an interesting European accent, and a shorter, loudmouthed American kid, blatantly disregarding his presence to instead engage in an apparently interesting cryptozoologic story.
"And Aye'm tellin' ya, boyo!" The black man leans in closer to the kid, and just barely whispers, "Nessie's real... s'how Aye lost me eye." He makes the moment more dramatic by slowly pointing at his eye patch.
"Aww c'mon man! Tha's fuckin' retahded!" The kid then makes the move to shove the black man away. "And gettaway from me, cockfag, ya smell like tha inside ova liquah store!"
The black man then proceeds to glare at the kid with his one angry eye. "Alright boyo, but eef ya read a tabloid statin' that tha monster married ye mum..."
"Ya bahlieve those? Jesus, Demo!"
"Ahem... gentlemen?"
Both men turned their attention to the pitiful looking Spy, who came from behind the safety of the corner. Demoman chortled a bit as he spoke up. " Are ye our new Spy? Ye look lyke yer aboot tah cry!"
"Haha! Yeah! 'N why do yah still have yo shit with ya, man?" He gestured towards the Spy's luggage that he was still carrying around. "Didn't anybody show ya yer room?"
The Spy looks down at his shoes and shakes his head. "Non. For ze last..." he pauses to check the time on his watch, and upon doing so, his eyebrows raise. "'our, I've been trying to find ze Doctor's office... do you gentlemen think you can 'elp moi?
"Alight then, Aye guess one 'o us 'ill have ta-ONETWOTHREE NOT IT!" Demo's fingers flew up and tapped his nose. Scout glared.
"Dammit! Why 'm I always the one who has ta show the fuckin' newbies 'round?!" His arms flap around in Spy's direction for emphasis.
"Becoose yer not fast enough!" Demoman then turns to jog away, not before sticking his tongue out at the boy. "Later, Scoot!"
"AUGH!" His whole upper body slouches foward in defeat. After a couple of awkward seconds, Scout's head turns towards Spy. "Well, c'mon, assmunch. Tha soona we get this done, tha soona I get ta listen to my ball game."
"So, you are ze Scout, oui?"
"Don't wanna fuckin' talk ta ya, dickface."
Spy frowns and looks down. His attempt to make polite small-talk done so in vain. "Désolé."
"And quit talkin' in that faggoty-ass shit."
"Sorry."
A few more twists and turns in the hallway, and they end up in front of the big swing doors of the Infirmary. Scout turns back to Spy, and raises his hand towards the door as if to sarcastically say 'tah-dah'. "Ah, oui. Merci- oops! I mean-"
"No fuckin' problem." Scout turns and walks off, waving him off while doing so.
Spy just stood there and rubbed his arm for a few moments. He didn't understand what he did that could have rubbed the boy the wrong way, but didn't have enough time to ponder this because yet again, he was being yelled at. This time, to move out of the way of the swing doors.
"BEWEGEN! RAUS AUS DEM WEG, DÜNNE MANN!" The wheeled gurney sped down the hall at almost a physically impossible rate. Two men were on it. The one having the actual emergency was completely engulfed in flames and his screams and thrashes were the soundtrack to the German commands, while the other was riding on the back of the gurney, kicking it along and giggling with a giddiness that made the Spy very uncomfortable.
After the first two bolted through the Infirmary entrance, a third ran by as fast as he possibly could, which wasn't really fast. The third one's appearance unhinged the Spy even further, as, well, 'it' was clad in a full flame-retardant suit. The person jogged right past Spy without so much as a second glance.
It was alright though. Spy was used to the ignorance by now.
After a few moments he took to regain himself, he risked taking a peek inside the doors.
The apparently German doctor was moving around the gurney at a daft rate, making alot of his medical instruments jump off of trays with each move. It seemed that he was looking for something in particular. The rubber-clad person stood a bit away, but still joined in with the screaming flame-ball of a man by hysterically chittering as fast as anything possibly could.
This was getting slightly annoying.
Spy's expression dropped into a glare as he walked in and past the loud trio, over towards one of the maintenance closets. When he retrieved a mop bucket that was adequate enough, he waltzed over to the hospital-grade sink and filled it up as full as he could carry with water. When he made it to the foot of the hospital bed, he paused and looked to see if his actions were being watched.
The German was still yelling and shuffling though shit.
The rubber thing had both it's hands resting on either side of it's head and was shaking violently.
Fireball was still on fire. And still screeching.
"Ugh..." Spy threw the water onto the man with swift movement, completely suffocating the flames, but in the process, made the three standing around the bed soaked as well.
After a couple of moments of heavy breathing and dripping, Spy dropped the bucket, and smoothed the top of his head with a squishy gloved hand. His vision went red when he saw what the doctor took up doing.
He was poking at the charred flesh. And giggling.
"WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO START HELPING ZHE MAN?! DON'T YOU SEE HE'S IN PAIN? HE NEEDS MEDICAL ATTENTION!" His outburst made Pyro jump. Spy was shaking with fury.
The doctor just raised an eyebrow.
"Now, zat is no vay to talk to ze only doctor on zis team..." A disturbing smile stretched on the physician's face "... Unless you too like missing organs."
Spy's shoulders dropped. The doctor just kept prodding. "Vow Pyro! Zese are some horrific third degree burns! Herr Engineer looks almost completely unrecognizable! Gute Arbeit!
Pyro let out some heart-wrenching mumble-sobs.
"Herr Engineer? Can you heah me?"
"Uggghhhhhh..." The poor little man on the bed couldn't even move his jaw enough to let actual words come out. Tears started to sting at the corners of Spy's eyes.
"Vell, at least he's cognate enough..." The cruel doctor dipped down under one of the tables and finally found what it was he was looking for. It looked like a big... gun.
"Looks like ze fun's ovah, dank Mutter drüben..." He shot Spy a nasty glare. He then aimed the huge gun at the man, only confirming things in Spy's head. He was going to put the man down. Like an animal. Right in front of him. Oh dieu, he was about to puke, he covered his eyes, he couldn't...
Instead of the sound of a gun being fired, a smooth, machine-like whirr took it's place. This made the Spy lookup from the palm of his hand. " Qu'est-ce ...?"
The man was bathed in a misty blue glow. All the burns were reversing on his skin, as well. Horrible black scabs were replaced with tanned, healthy skin. The more he was healed, the more his chest rose and fell. The only thing the magic gun couldn't bring to prior glory was his clothes. What used to be his work overalls was now just a pile of rags.
The ex-burn victim sat up after a good thirty seconds, and shot a vicious glare at the rubber person. "BOY! WHAT'D AH TELL YA 'BOUT PLAYIN' WITH MATCHES?! YA COULD'VE CAUGHT THA WHOLE PLACE ON FIRE!"
Pyro mumbled more incoherent noises, and kicked at some invisible dirt on the ground.
Engineer let out a sigh while he dropped and shook his head. He then gave a genuinely grateful smile towards the German. "Thanks, Doc. Betcha Ah looked like a piece a well done bacon!"
"More zan you'd evah know." The doctor returned it with a surprisingly warm smile, and patted the Texan on a naked shoulder. "Maybe you should find a new uniform, Herr? Zat one is beyond repair..."
"Ya, well..." he then finally caught a glimpse of the third person in the room with him, struck with awe and silence. His face lit up yet again. "Hey, you must be our new spah, huh?"
"Uh, oui! Oui Monsieur!" Spy was still in a daze. The man that could only groan a minute ago was now sitting up, and was even offering a handshake. It was amazing.
"Ah'm the team's Engineer." Spy returned the handshake. "It's a pleasure ta meet cha. Wish it was on better terms, though!" Engineer chuckles softly.
"Sorry to intrude, but since Herr Spy is new, he needs his check-up. Und since you're healed, you can take ze Pyro viz you to get your uniform." The doctor sported an unamused expression.
"Oh, yup! Sorry, Doc! I'll be on mah way, then." Engineer hopped off the bed and looked around a bit. Then glared over at Pyro, who was mumbling towards the ground until his/her eyes met his, then jumped a little as a reaction. "Py, where'd my hardhat gone off to?"
Pyro, without eye contact given, gave a scorched and scratched Tonka-truck yellow helmet from behind it's back. When Engineer took it from Pyro, the rubber person held it's hands up defensively, and uncomfortably giggle-mumbled. "C'mon boy, I'd have a word witcha.." Engineer lead off towards the door with Pyro in tow. Pyro looked back before going out the doors, and waved Spy goodbye.
"Now wizout further interruption..." Medic slowly slapped two baby blue gloves onto each hand, and gives the Spy an uncontrollably and genuinely excited grin. "Let's prep you for surgery!"
When he got out of the Infirmary and finally checked his watch, he stopped in place in disbelief. He thought it was the aftereffects of the anesthesia. Hell, that would be why all his actions are sloppy. He rubbed his eyes and checked again.
It was now 8:47 at night.
It had been seven hours in surgery.
Spy slumped forward and grabbed the wall for support. His legs went numb and buckled under his weight. He fell, face first, and cried out in a mix of frustration and pain.
Everyone here was batshit insane! He wanted to leave! Even if he didn't have a home or family to go to, just as long as he wasn't here.
Then, he heard stomping. Not normal weight person happily waltzing down the hallway stomping, no, but more like a mammoth-sized pissed off bull elephant charging towards him stomping. He didn't have the energy to turn his head and look, just enough to cringe and wait for death.
But death never came.
Instead, the source of the stomping stopped abruptly by his side and nudged him. "Is leetle man alright? Is dead?"
It was muffled and exhausted, but a reply came. "... n-non."
Then, Spy got scooped up and lifted like a tired puppy, hands slotted under his armpits and lifted just above the floor. When the feeling of ascending stopped, Spy rocked his head up to see who was helping him. The world spun, he couldn't focus. There was three of the man's head in his vision, but the look of concern was apparent. "Come, I feed you, do better with food in you."
The giant man then carried him down the hall in a bridal hold, mumbling something about beef hash.
He didn't even remember losing consciousness, but when he regained it, he found himself siting in a simple metal chair pushed into a big, shiny metal table. The mess hall was almost too big. And empty. He seemed to be alone.
He didn't want to be alone! Even if he was just with that giant, strange man, it was better than no one!
Just when he started to hyperventilate, he noticed he wasn't alone in the room. Completely across the table sat a man reading a newspaper with a mug beside him. Even though he was inside, he still wore a slouch hat and a pair of dark aviators. He took a look at his watch, then over to the Spy and smirked. "Ah, you finally awake?" He stood up from his chair, folded the newspaper up and tucked it under his arm, picked up his mug and walked towards the man he addressed. "Yeh must of taken quiet a tumble, if the big bloke had ta carry you in here." He chuckles aloud. "Ya look like shit, mate." Spy looks down and grumbles. "Aw, don't take it personally. We were all newbies once." He paused a moment to swish whatever was in the mug around, and then placed it in front of the Spy. "When you're done with it, wash it out and put the mug up. Ya need it more than I do." He patted Spy on the back and walked off to a big, door less entrance Spy assumed was to the kitchen, and poked his head in to yell at who ever was in there.
Spy tipped the mug towards himself and peered in. The liquid, if you would call it that, was completely dark and thick. The pungent aroma stung the inside of his nose. He cringed. The thought 'How can this even be edible?' ran through his head. When he looked back up, he saw the man in the hat talking to the guy that carried him in here. The giant had that same look of concern he gave to the Spy.
"Da, but, Sniper needs food, too! Can't function well without!"
Sniper pats the giant on his stomach tenderly. "Naw Heavy, I'll be alroight. Honest. Don't need alot for functionin'." Sniper gives Heavy a friendly smile and turns to leave. "Do feed tha spook, though. He looks a might on the feeble-side." Spy shot a nasty glare at the back of the Sniper's head, and in response, received a chuckle.
When Sniper turned out of the mess hall entrance, Heavy came over to Spy's side with a steaming plate of hash, which he placed in front of him. It looked good, better than that sludge in a mug Sniper called coffee, but in honesty, "Ah, I am not really hungry, Monsieur..."
"Nonsense! Eat! Is good! Especially after Doktor's surgery, da?"
Spy picked the fork up out of the heap, and started poking at the small mountain of food. "What was ze surgery for, anyway? Did I have somezing wrong wiz me?"
Heavy chuckles lightly. "Nyet, is surgery for heart. Doktor alters heart for Respawn system and Über charging.
"Respawn?"
"Da." Heavy's face lightens up like a child's. He loves conversations, no matter who the audience. "Literally re-builds you after death. You never die out here." Heavy notices Spy's face contorting in confusion. "Computer brings you back to life, and re-builds body to put you back into. Is... uncomfortable process."
Spy feigns understanding. "Ah. Well, while we're on ze same note, what is Über charging? Is it painful, too?"
Heavy sits in an empty chair next to the Frenchman, knowing that the conversation would take a little while longer now. "Nyet. When Medic heals enough with healing gun, it gets charge from gage in hearts that he placed in us. When he recharges gage in heart, we become invincible for short period of time. Actually feels amazing."
Spy looked mesmerized. Technology like this actually existed? "Fascinating." Involuntarily and out of habit, Spy reached his hand, picked up and lead the mug up to his face. "So, what is your position on ze team? Are you ze cook?"
Heavy laughs hard and long at that, eventually wiping tears from his eyes. "Ah, Nyet. I..." He rests a big hand on his chest boastfully. "... am team's Heavy Weapons Expert. Happy to meet leetle Spy!"
"Oui, it's a pleazure to meet you formally as well." Spy tips the mug to his mouth and accidentally takes a swig of the acrid liquid. His eyes shot open from the taste, but, trying to be a suave and purposeful man, he swallows like he meant to. The liquid makes him choke a little.
"Is leetle Spy alright?" Heavy starts lightly patting his back.
A few more coughs, and Spy meets Heavy's gaze with his own. "O-oui. Fine." He feels a slight buzzing in the back of his skull. His heart feels like a fluttering bird. All the tiredness seemed to have seeped away from his body. Hell, he felt like he could take over the world at this rate! (If he wasn't trying to fight back the urge to regurgitate.) His eyes blink hard and roll around in his sockets, it felt like he had to fight to get a hold on his body to not go haywire. Did Sniper put cocaine in this?! "I zink... *hack* I will retire to my quarters for ze evening... good night, Monsieur..."
"Alright, leetle Spy... If need anything, just knock, da?"
"Oui, merci." Spy get up and zips out of the mess hall, getting to his room being top priority.
Heavy frowns down at the plate of food Spy left, (he barely put a dent in it...) and shrugged. Maybe he can feed it to Medic! He loves Heavy's cooking, and Heavy loves his praise, so why not? Heavy grabs the plate up and takes his leave as well.
He checked the clock hanging on the wall again for the umpteenth time this hour.
1:34. In the god damned morning.
He's been pacing nonstop in the middle of his room for so long now, that he's pretty sure that there's grooves in the floor. He needed to do something about this extra energy, he clearly couldn't sleep a smidgen...
...His first battle is tomorrow, maybe he could funnel his energy into something productive by exploring the area. 'That would give me a good advantage, and maybe the rest of the team would warm up to me more...' He smiled to himself while he looked out his small window. A huge, plump full moon barely hung in the sky, illuminating all the buildings spreading across the battlefield in a light blue hue. Spy nods once to confirm his thoughts, and turns to his desk to collect his weapons and tools. He takes a second to calibrate his watch, to make sure it has enough battery for emergencies, and practically runs out of his room from excitement.
Dilapidated buildings.
Piles of scrap.
A long and winding sewer system.
Spy finally crosses the only bridge that connects the two sides, stopping on the opposite side to scan the new territory. Their building is pretty much the exact replica of the BLU one... just... made of wood. He goes inside, through some hallways and a courtyard, up a rickety staircase, through one more hallway and ends up in... *INSERT DRUM ROLL HERE*... the battlements. 'Hmm... kind of anticlimactic if I do say so myself...' Just when he was about to turn away, his eye caught a glimmer of light. He turns back and focuses on the source.
A crack in a door.
'Well, the inhabitants wouldn't mind if I popped in and poked around a bit, especially if they can't see me!' Spy snickers under his breath at his pun, cloaks, and sneaks inside.
He slowly pushes the door open, and puts it back in its previous state once he quietly enters. Musty wood smell smacked him in the face first, which made him think of how rotten the infrastructure actually was. One lone candle sat on a desk to his left, and did its job to light the place up quite nicely. He looked across the walls and noticed memorabilia of what appeared to be an old couple, a strapping young man with a dead crocodile spread across the hood of a vehicle, two young men on a boat holding up fish they caught... just random snippets of... wait a moment... that boy there looks an awful lot like...
Spy hears a creak behind him and turns around. When he did, he too made a slight, and accidental creak, but anything could be heard in this thick silence. He sees the other person's face pick up from their hands and looks across the room. 'Oh dieu, he heard me!' The other person reaches behind himself, picks up a SMG off of the table behind himself and aims seemingly right where Spy was standing.
"Awroight spook, ya bettah show y'self."
Luck must of hated his existence tonight because right then and there, his cloak wore off.