Just for ref, here's who we've met.
Allambee King – RED Sniper
Bellamy Cantrell – RED Spy
Edward Carter – RED Scout
Oliver Walker – RED Pyro

Arthur Williams – RED soldier

Jason Stewart – BLU Scout
Robert Myers – BLU Soldier

Names can be confusing to remember when there's a lot, so there's a nice little reminder :)

By the way, the fic is set in about 2000. Purely because it's closer to the other dates I want to use in back stories and such, and it means I can use them, and not have my characters a ridiculous age. :)

Wikipedia and a friend helped me with my Vietnam knowledge. Arthur is about..55, older than I had originally pegged him at, but it worked better. He's a bloody good fighter, and very fit for his age. He was working with the ARVN, (South Vietamese army, the Anti-communist forces) and this is from the Battle of Ap Bac, on the 2nd of January, 1963. He was 18 when he was in this battle, he'd joined the army at 16, so he'd been there a couple of years. This is the battle in which the Viet cong took out a larger and better equipped group of ARVN/U.S troops. At least, I'm PRETTY sure the U.S were there, if they weren't, they were now. :3 I win.

Chapter 2

"Chin up Williams!" Pete grinned, slapping his friend on the back. Arthur rolls his eyes, continuing to clean his weapon.
"I'm fine, and quit calling me that!" he grumbles, glaring half heartedly at the American. Pete pouts, prodding his friend, sitting down beside him on the crate.
"Awh, C'mon Arthurr!" His grin reappearing. Arthur rolls his eyes.
"What will I do with you?" He sighs, looking at his friend. Pete salutes, winking.
"Stay alive?"
Arthur finally smiles.
"Like they could take me out."

2nd January, 1963. Battle of Ap Bac.

"ARTHUR!" Pete cries out, running in to the American's bunk, throwing the helmet at him. "Get up, goddamnit, the commies are here!" Arthur sits up, blinking.
"What? But.." He trails off, grabbing the helmet and pulling it on, pulling on the uniform as fast as he could, grabbing a weapon, before following Pete out, joining their colleagues.

"What's the plan?" Arthur inquires, clutching the rifle close. Will turns to him, adjusting his own helmet slightly as someone cries out nearby.
"I.. We don't know. The ARVN's General hasn't said anything, we have no orders." he mutters, obviously distressed by the knowledge.
"Then we're running blindly in?" Arthur exclaims, blinking. The officers shrug, nodding.
"We don't have a choice." Ian pipes in, adjusting his grip on the sub-machine gun he'd been issued. Arthur glances over the groups shoulders, peering over the sandbags, at a nearby explosion.

"Then we stick together.." he grunts, looking to the men, who nod.

"IAN!" William cries, as the rifle bullet ricochets off the man in questions helmet, causing him to stumble backwards stunned. The next bullet didn't miss, piercing the man's chest, causing him to fall backwards gasping. Arthur grabs William's arm, stopping the man from running from the cover to the fallen officer.
"STAY BACK! HE'S GONE, WE'RE NOT LOSING ANOTHER." he growls, glancing at Ian's corpse, gulping. Will grits his teeth, heart thudding, watching the fallen troop, before slumping back down beside Arthur nodding. Arthur peers over the cover, quickly bagging a shot before ducking again.
"Okay.. I think we can move to the next barrier now without to much trouble." He mumbles, glancing at Pete and Will. Pete nods, loading his own rifle. Will gulps, nodding, croaking past the lump in his throat.
"Ye-ah." he murmurs back, glancing once more at Ian's body, before following Arthur's lead.

Arthur moved out from the cover, keeping low but moving quickly.
"LOOK OUT!" An officer near by cries out, causing Arthur to look up. His eyes widen at the RPG heading for them. Pete cried out, scrambling to get out of the way, pushing Arthur. Arthur rolled forward, throwing his arms over his head as the ground shook at the close proximity of the explosion. Arthur looked back up from the ground, at his friends, scanning for them. He pales, heart thumping, at the bloody mess that was William and Pete, the occasional lump of flesh recognisable as a limb, or body part. Arthur gagged, covering his mouth, only to find his hands sticky with his companions blood. He wretches, another rocket detonating nearby, causing him to flinch and scramble for cover, promptly vomiting as he arrives.

"You alright there Williams?" the gruff voice of a soldier grunts at him, on his way past. Arthur looks up at him, a little startled, blinking. He gulps nodding quickly.
"Fine." He grunts back, his empty gaze turning back to the floor.

"Mr Williams?" Arthur blinks at the feminine tone, not remembering any female officers in their platoon. He looks up, grunting.
"What?"
"How would you like to get out of here, and start again?" The melodic tone rings, as the woman tilts her head.

The sky was overcast when the train arrived three days later to take Arthur's body back to his parents, and the team gathered outside at the station, hats off, their faces solemn. Maxim, their heavy, carries out the body bag bridal style, through the middle of the team, putting the body on the train carefully, stepping back off as the doors shut. Edward stands at the back of the crowd, watching the train, pale, with dark circles under his eyes. Jacob, their Engineer, puts an arm around the scout's shoulder.
"We're all gonna miss solly kid.. you gotta stop beatin' yourself up about this." He murmurs, his trademark hard hat and goggles left behind in the locker room, instead wearing a plain red t-shirt and black trousers. His shaggy black hair hung around his ears, and his brown eyes worried for the teen. At five foot four inches, Edward was towered above by everyone on the team, even Jacob, who was only five foot eight. Edward remains silent, watching the heavy despair over the loss.
"Arthur is going home now da?" The large man asks the medic, looking down at his companion. The medic nods, forcing a smile and patting the Heavy's arm.
"Ja Max, he's going back home."

"Hey! Amy!" The sniper calls after the illusive spy, an hour or so after their gathering for their fallen comrade. Bellamy stops, sighing and turning to the Australian.
"Really mon amour. I have asked you not to call me zhat." he mumbles, frowning. Allambee shrugs.

"It suits you.." he mumbles, smiling slightly, his violet eyes catching the light. Bellamy sighs again shrugging.
"So you always say.." He shuts his green eyes, running his fingers through the black hair, leaving it mussed. Allambee cocks his head slightly, sighing.
"Cheer up mate.." He murmurs, watching the man. Bellamy glances up at the sniper. Whilst the sniper only stood a few inches above the spy, it made all the difference to the spy's posture.
"I cannot help it mon amour.." he sighs. "Edward hasn't spoken to me since Arthur passed on. I think he still has a problem with Jason."
Allambee sighs nodding.
"That's certainly a possibility.. Would you like me to talk to the joey?" Allambee queries. Bellamy looks up at the sniper smiling slightly.
"Zhat may well help. He sees you as a brother I zhink. He's more likely to talk to you than me at zhe moment."
Allambee nods, smiling and pulling the spy toward him, hugging him. Bellamy sighs wrapping his arms round the Sniper's waist, leaning his forehead on the broad shoulders.
"Zhank you Al."
"You're welcome mate." the Aussie murmurs back.

"Joey? You in here mate?" the Australian chimes in, peering into the training room. He heard the teen before he saw him, the whirring of the treadmill on full power audible, and the heavy thumping of the scouts feet on the treadmill beating steadily.
"Ed?"
Ed glances at the Australian, turning the speed down marginally. His white shirt almost wringing wet with sweat, and his hair was sticking to his cheeks, evidence he'd been running for a while. The sniper gulps, shutting the door behind him, pulling up a chair to sit beside the treadmill, watching the boy run.
"You awright?" he murmurs, watching the American. Edward almost glares, choosing to instead not look at the sniper.
"Dandy." he mumbles.
"Talk to me joey, why ain't cha speakin' to Amy?" He tilts his head. "He's worried about ya you know."
Edward scoffs, glancing at the Aussie.
"I doubt that, he has his new scout to look after. Bet that's the only reason he ever spoke to me you know, cause that BLU scumbag is the same age." he growls, turning the speed up on the treadmill again. Allambee sighs, running his fingers through his short blonde hair.
"That's not true.. He liked that he could watch you grow up at the same time as Jas, but he likes you, for you."
Edward scoffs, unable to turn the treadmill up any more, instead turning it off, and slowing to a stop. He hops off the treadmill, glaring at the man.
"He don't give a shit Bee and you know it. Quit tryin' ta chat me up." He growls, leaving the training room to get changed no doubt. Allambee sighs, standing up.
"Well that went well.."

"Wouldn't budge mate, he really thinks you only liked him cause of Jason." Al recites later on, sat outside his camper van out the back of 2Fort, a can of beer in his hand. Bellamy sighs, sipping his own beverage, before taking a drag on a cigarette.
"I don't want zhis to ruin my relationship with le garçon Al, you know zhat.." Allambee nods.
"You know what I think spooks," Jacob starts, pointing at the spy, the can in his gloved hand. "I think you need to let him come round. He'll get over this thing when he needs ya."
"But he needs me now!" Bellamy groans, taking another swig of beer. "He's still beating himself up about Arthur, his Mozher was shot by a drug lord, and Edward has never stopped blaming himself.." he sighs, looking at the Texan. "Le garçon does not need zhis on his conscience as well.."
Jacob blinks sighing.
"Well I didn't know that.." he sighs running his fingers through his hair. "Poor kid."
Allambee nods, stealing a cigarette from Bellamy's top pocket, lighting it.
"Poor joey, he's terrible at openin' up to people anyway, he don' need something else weighin' him down, can't you try to talk to him Cob?" The Aussie inquires. Jacob shakes his had.
"I don't recommend me tryin'. I tried talkin' to the kid when we saw Solly off, he wasn't interested in the slightest."
Bellamy groans.
"Will he ever speak to me again?" he asks, his emerald eyes pleading with the pair. Allambee and Jacob glance at one another before nodding.
"Definitely mate, he'll always come back to you. You're like a Dad to the tyke."
Jacob nods.
"He's right Spooks, Kid can't keep away from you forever."
Bellamy sighs, looking down as Allambee's brown and white Australian collie rests his head on the man's leg, whining softly. Bellamy ruffles the dog's fur sighing.
"See? Even Roo is telling you to cheer up. Dogs know best ya know." Allambee smiles. Bellamy nods slightly, watching the dog.
"So you always say mon amour, so you always say."

"Ollie?" Ed squeaks, peering into the pyro's room. "Ya here bud?" he murmurs, eyes adjusting to the dimly lit room. Oliver flicks on the bedside lamp, blinking at the American.
"Eddie?"
"Please don't call me that.." The scout mumbles, lethargically.
"You should be getting some sleep.." The pyro cocks his head, sitting up and putting his the book he'd been reading using a lighter for light. Once the book is down, Oliver's shirtless torso is in Ed's plain view. Edward was well aware of Oliver's scars, the only one, other than the Medic of course, who had seen them. There was a large scar across the blonde's stomach, the flesh puckered, a burn. Smaller burns littered his arms, and a few fairly large scars across his chest and neck. Several long slashes littered his right shoulder, from attacks and self harm. His long pale blonde hair is let loose for once, spilling around over his shoulders, to his mid back. He swings his legs over the bed, clad in jogging bottoms, standing up and walking over to his friend. At twenty-one, the pyro was the closest in age to the seventeen year old scout, and the two had clicked straight away, and had been almost inseparable since.

"I ca...don't feel like it." Edward mumbles, shutting the door behind him. Ollie gulps, glancing at the time.
"It's almost midnight Edd-..Ed.." he mumbles, already feeling low as the darkness of night had set in. Ed shrugged.
"..Do you want me to go?" he mumbles, looking at the blonde. The pyro blinks, noting the puffy pink eyes on the Bostonian, sighing.
"No, it's fine.." he sits down on the bed, patting the mattress beside him. Edward sits down, running his fingers through his hair.
"Are you okay?" Ed mumbles to the English man, glancing at him. Oliver nods gulping.
"Fine, what's up? Still down about Arthur?" he guesses, glancing at his friend. Ed stiffens visibly, clenching his fists.
"..Do we have to talk about it?" he mumbles, voice shaking. Oliver sighs.
"Talking helps, I should know.." he murmurs back, glancing at his friend again. "Why aren't you with Bells and Al? I thought you were close to them?"
"I'm close to you too Ollie.."
"I know that Ed..." he sighs. "It's just you usually go to them when you feel down.." Ed shrugs.
"Bells only wants his stupid BLU son now. And Al's with spooks so.." he trails off. Oliver blinks.
"Are you kidding me?" he looks at his friend. "That spy ADORES you!" Ed glares scoffing.
"Don't you start. I've had that speech from Allambee. Bells hasn't tried to speak to me since.. that night." he shudders, taking a deep breath. "You know.. I've had over twelve showers in the last three days.." He murmurs. "I still feel like.. like his blood's on me.." he mumbles, going quiet tears welling again. Ollie shuts his eyes, memories surfacing in his already unstable mind.
"Wo-uld you like to try and sleep in here?" he suggests, trying to end the conversation, but still comfort his obviously hurting friend.
"Every time I shut my eyes I see.. I see Ma.. and Bert.. the drug dealer the coppers shot.. and now Arthur.." he gulps, sniffing and rubbing his eyes quickly. "It's to much blood.." Oliver gulps standing up, pacing slightly.
"You need.. maybe you could ask Erik for a sedative?" he murmurs. "You need to sleep." he chokes out, gulping.
"I don't want drugs Ollie!" the dark haired teen sobs, trying to wipe the tears away before they fall. "I just don't want these memories! I don't want it to be my fault any more!"
Oliver flinches at the sob, the distress evident in his friends voice, only serving to upset the unstable Pyro further. The pyro eyes up the top drawer in his desk, clenching his fists and gulping.
"S-top thinking Eddie.. Just.. Just shut your eyes and let it go.." he tries, almost pleading with the Bostonian. Edward sobs.
"Don't call me Eddie!" he cries out. The harsh tone pushes Ollie over his barrier, and he lunges for the drawer, rummaging and pulling out a box, undoing the lock and pulling out the bottle of gasoline and a lighter, setting them on the desk and rummaging for the blade he kept at the bottom. Edward looks up, blinking a couple of times before registering the Pyro's mental state.

"Ollie? What are you doing! Put it away that shit's dangerous!" he stands up, stepping toward the pyro.
"GET AWAY FROM ME ED!" the blonde growls, clutching the blade, blood already dripping from his hand as the razor sharp metal digs into his palm. Ed blinks, the sight of blood only causing his heart rate to escalate.
"Don't do this Ollie.. I'm your friend remember? You're safe here with me.." he pleads, stepping toward the blonde again.
"FUCK OFF EDWARD!" The blonde growls, taking the blade and dragging it hard down his arm, growling. "I don't need your help, you shouldn't have come in here! You should have just sucked it up and gone to Bellamy! He'd know what to do wouldn't he! Not me, I don't know shit!" he glares, blood from the wound on his forearm dripping onto the pyro's carpet.
"Ollie you gotta stop this you're gonna do some real damage!" he sobs, unable to stem his own tears now. The pyro snarls, almost feral.
"GOOD!"
Ed steps toward the Blonde, now only a few paces from him. Oliver snaps and lunges at the dark haired boy, slashing at his stomach. Edward cries out, falling back, blood spilling through the white t-shirt. Ed blinks, panicking.
"OLIVER!" Jacob rugby tackles the blonde, pinning him down on his stomach, holding his wrists, not before throwing the blade out of the blonde's reach. The Texan had heard Edward from the corridor, whilst heading back to his room, and peered in to assess, only to find Oliver wielding a blade, and Edward bleeding.
"Are you alright Kid?" Jacob looks to Ed, gulping at the boy's trembling hands, caked in his own blood. Ed nods hurriedly staring at the struggling Pyro. Jacob hauls Oliver up, holding onto the boys wrists tight, slinging him over his shoulder, and holding out a hand to the Scout.
"Can you walk alright kiddo?" he murmurs, unusually softly for the loud engineer. Edward nods quickly, standing up and limping after the Engineer, trying not to pull on his stomach.

"He'll be alright Herr-"
"Jacob." The Engineer mutters absently, watching the pair of beds. The medic sighs.
"I had to sedate them both.. Edward would not stop crying, and Oliver was to far gone in his panic to have calmed down on his own." The medic signs the forms, glancing at the Engineer.
"Zhey will both be fine.."