Sightless
"So... are you like a zombie or somethin'?"
The Texan turned to look at the dark-haired boy, scowl on his face as he shifted his tool box on his shoulder. "Do you even know what a zombie looks like, stringbean?"
"Course I do!" Scout boasted, smug smirk on his face. "They're all gray and look tired and hunched and walk super slow and mumble nonsense. Like you!"
"You forgot something crucial, boy."
"...What?"
"Zombies eat brains," the man chuckled, shaking his head. "Last I recall, I don't eat no brains."
"Ah! But that's the thing!" Spy piped up, leaning on the Scout's shoulder and pointing a finger at the bald man. "You could be doing it late in the night, and that's why you're not getting sleep! Confess, Zombie!"
Another dark laugh emitted from the back of the man's throat, before falling into a heavy sigh, "Kinda wish it could be somethin' like that right about now."
The Scout and Spy glanced at each other, Bostonian raising a concerned and curious eyebrow along with the Italian. Spy's face quickly shifted into a devious smirk, reaching an arm around the Scout's shoulder and pinching his cheek.
"Your eyes are the prettiest blue I've seen, Princess." he hummed, snickering lightly.
"Dude, you're soundin' like my grandma. Just... she was lackin' the 'princess' part." he scoffed, tugging the Italian's hand away from his face before glancing back at the Engineer. "So, you get in trouble back home or somethin', hardhat? Your cat try to take over the world?"
"I'd... prefer not talkin' about it, stringbean." Before the two could get another word in, the man sped up his pace to join the conversation the Sniper and Demoman were partaking in.
"His cat is totally trying to take over the world, dude."
"Obviously."
The trek through the halls of the base into the living quarters was filled with minutes of banter and small talk. In one instance, Spy turned on his cloak and snuck up behind the Medic, giving the man a wet willy before the man smacked him and a chase started, Medic screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs. Scout could still hear the man screaming even when he was in his room hanging the company assigned clothes in his closet.
He jumped as the hanger smacked something.
"You almost got my eye, Princess." the Italian decloaked laughing as he rubbed his face, skipping out of the closet and jumping onto the Bostonian's bed.
"You're going to die, you know." Scout shook his head, hanging up the set of clothes and grabbing the next set. He glanced at the man over his shoulder, cocking an eyebrow. "Why my closet, anyway?"
The Italian shrugged, light brown eyes shining with mischief. "Why not your closet?"
"Cuz I almost made you lose an eye with a clothes hanger."
"Ah, but you didn't, so all is well!"
There was a loud crash from the floor below them, Medic's cries of "WHERE IS HE" rampaging throughout the walls.
Scout glanced down at the floor before looking at the Italian again, frown and blank stare on his face. "I ain't helpin' you."
Spy sighed and fell onto his back into the bed, clasping his hands under his head. "That man really needs to not hold a grudge. It's been... what, an hour now?"
"Two minutes."
"Oh... well, still."
A moment passed as Scout finished putting away his clothes, sliding the suitcase underneath the bed before heading over to the case with his weapons, checking over his Scattergun and pistol before placing them on the racks on the wall.
"It's no fair." the Italian whined as the Bostonian went to grab his bat.
"What?"
"You and everyone else gets nice things to put your weapons on. I have nothing, I say!"
"Your weapons are small."
"Weaponism, I s-"
"Found you." the two turned to the doorway, Medic standing and glaring vehemently at the Spy, livid and twisted smile on his face.
Scout glanced blankly at the dark blonde to the other man, before unwrapping his bat from his bag. "I don't want a mess in my room. Can you kill him outside?"
"Certainly."
He could feel the look of betrayal the Italian man was throwing his way. He ignored it. Before the blonde could drag the suited man outside, a siren outside started blaring. Scout pouted. They weren't supposed to fight until tomorrow. Maybe it was just some sort of electronical malfunction or something. Or the Announcer decided to be a b-
"GEAR UP, LADIES! WE'RE GOING TO WAR!"
Soldier wouldn't let them just sit around either way. Jumping to his feet, Scout hopped over and put on his pack, strapping his shotgun and pistol to their holsters and placing his bat in his pack. Spy was digging in his closet when he turned around.
"The hell are you doin' man?!"
The Italian looked over his shoulder. "I never got to get my stuff in my room with that lunatic chasing me all over! I just brought them with me!"
"'Lunatic' you say?" Scout smirked as the Spy flinched as the dark blonde poked his head around the doorway after dashing to his room and grabbing his arsenal, hissing, "If only I could hurt you on the battlefield."
"Yeah, you'd like that, you motherf..." the Italian trailed off as he strapped his weapons to his person, nodding at the Bostonian and holding out his arm, smirking. "Shall we skip in together, Princess."
Scout rolled his eyes and ran. The Italian called after him frantically, but the Bostonian was already long gone. Soldier, Heavy, Sniper, Pyro and Medic were already in the respawn room when he arrived. Heavy raised his hand shortly for a small greeting, before resuming the conversation he was having with the Englishman. The Bostonian leaned against a wall and tossed his ball in the air, eyeing his team as he asbentmindedly caught the ball and tossed it again.
Soldier was marching in a line right next to the gate, straight, stiff and proper. He had the strangest feeling that the RED Soldier was also doing the same. For both men coming from opposite ends of the Earth, it was eerie how similar they were. Sometimes he got confused and didn't know which Soldier was yelling commands at him, even with the accent difference.
Their Medics were obviously both crazed lunatics, but it was really hard to see who wasn't on these teams anymore (other than him, obviously, he was as sane as a man could be). It was concerning he knew more about the RED Medic than he did their own Medic. German, loved birds, insane homicidal maniac, possibly had a super mancrush on RED Heavy. All he knew about their Medic was that he was probably equally insane, super party pooper, and was blonde and had a beard.
The Heavy's seemed similar enough. Big, burly dudes. Super big. RED Heavy seemed a little more fat and less muscle than their Heavy. Also had a super thick Russian accent. And was white.
Took a week before he realized RED Sniper was Australian and not English. Their accents sounded similar, it was hard to tell, all right?! He inadvertently glared at the other blonde in the room, recalling the three hour long lecture about Britain not being just England and blah blah blah Australia and blah blah blah don't compare him to that kangaroo humpin' bastard and blah blah blahdee blah. Super boring lecture really. Then the Demoman got in on it too and went on about Scottish history. Also really boring. They wouldn't let him leave. That was not a fun night.
He had an itching feeling the Demomen were related. How many black Scottish demolition experts did you see, really?
"Yo." He turned his head to the team who turned to him as he continued to toss his ball. "Are the Demomen related?"
Sniper sighed and nodded. "Cousins." he scoffed, before turning back to the Romanian.
Scout "ah"d in recognition, before glancing around the room again. "Where is he anyway? And hardhat?"
"Engineer is still unwell."
"HE IS NOTHING BUT A WHINY SNIVELING G-"
"I will smash your head in with your own shovel, mate. Friendly fire isn't on yet."
"Oh. Yes. I can kill Spy." Medic seemed to hum, before dropping his medi-gun without a care and heading back into the base. The men watched as he disappeared behind the door, before returning to the conversation.
"As Sniper was saying," Heavy mumbled before sitting up straight. "Engineer is unwell, he is sleeping in his room. Demoman is... right there!"
The man in question blinked in confusion as he walked into the room, hesitant smile sliding onto his lips. "Did I miss somethin', lads?"
Scout shrugged. "Just wonderin' where you were. Usually you're one of the first ones here."
The Scot's smile fell and he leaned against the wall opposite to the youngest man. "Yeah. I was just checkin' up on Engie, seein' if he needed anythin' before the match started." He sighed again, scratching the back of his neck. "Poor guy sounds like he was hit by a train or somethin'."
A silence fell over the room, but not for long.
"RED Demo's your cousin right? How'd he lose that eye?"
He glanced at the Scout and shrugged again. "Merasmus' book took it."
"The Bombinomicon?"
"That was the one."
"Well, th-" Scout cut himself short as he shifted himself to glance out the doorway back into the safe regions of the base. He heard yelling. Things were being tossed and... there it was. The gut-wrenching scream from the Italian echoed along the walls, and a small light emitted in the spawn room, shifting into the shape of the Spy before the man was there in reality.
The Bostonian lightly chucked his ball at the man's head, smirking. "Told you you'd die."
Spy sneered as he kicked the baseball back. "I hate you."
"Sure you do, Prince Charmin'."
After a smug Medic returned to the room, idle chatter started to flare up again. Pyro started to walk around the cramped room, lightly spraying his flamethrower as he paced around, a few of them retreating to the far end of the room to avoid the arsonist. Sniper had resorted to checking over his Hunstman Bow, and Demo had started cleaning his sticky launcher. Heavy held his weapon at the ready, staring at the gate, Soldier was continuing to march around, Medic was sitting on a bench and eyeing the Pyro. Scout and Spy had resorted to playing catch.
"Doesn't something seem off to you, Princess?" the Italian muttered, eyeing the gate quickly as he tossed the baseball back.
"Not re-"
"THE GATES ARE OPEN! BOMB THE HERETICS!"
Snatching his ball out of the air, the Bostonian saluted before running out into the field, stashing the object into his pocket as he replaced it with the shotgun holstered on his lower back. Huh, the RED Demoman was trying something different this time, there weren't any stickies on the gates. Ducking behind the bomb, the man pushed with his shoulders and free hand, Soldier was on the left, doing the same. He flinched as bullets whizzed past him on the first turn and quickly rolled to the side Soldier was on. There was screaming and yelling and the mini-machine guns were screeching loudly as they were being used. Rockets were exploding. Arrows sunk into the ground in front of the bomb.
"WE COULD USE A HAND HERE!" he shouted to the team, glancing into the fray as he flinched at more bullets ricocheting off the cart. Sniper was hiding behind a rock, examining the battlefield and shooting off a couple more arrows before bolting to the other two, crouching and half-hugging the Bostonian in order to help push and stay out of the line of fire.
The blonde grumbled, "You didn't shower today."
"Yeah, well, you didn't brush your teeth." he muttered back, before slightly nodding at the Chinese man in front of them. "And he wouldn't let me shower."
"Who doesn't let a man shower, mate?"
"WE WERE GOING TO BE L-" the Soldier fell dead at their feet as they pushed the cart into the nearby tunnel, the men quickly shooting ahead before ducking to the back of the wagon. The men glanced at the corpse, Scout grimacing at the arrow between the man's eyes.
Bullets littered the ground beside them, the men cautiously peeking from the corners and shooting shots in return. Ducking back to reload his Scattergun, he froze at the sight of boots connected to a red hazmat suit. He didn't even have time to warn his teammate before they were engulfed in flames.
It was such a horrible way to die. He never could tell when he respawned after being burned alive-he could still feel the fire as his body reconstructed. The pain just merged with the respawn sensation. It was the creepiest thing in the world.
A sudden deep breath filled his lungs as his feet touched the floor of the respawn room. Okay. Good. He was here. That was great.
He jumped as the Englishman fell to the floor beside him, before he glared up at the younger man.
"Couldn't even give me a warnin'?"
"No time. He was pullin' the trigger by the time I realized."
The blonde rose to his feet and cracked his neck, grunting, "Fair enough." and ran out without another word.
The Bostonian took another breath, before following the older man, dashing past him and shooting at the RED Demoman who was nearby. He watched as the Scotsman landed dead on the ground and fired more rounds at the Russian and German duo headed his way before dashing back into the tunnel, where his Demoman and Heavy had moved the cart near the end of it. Jumping on top of the bomb, he crouched and quickly reloaded his Scattergun.
He heard the Romanian sniff like he did when confused, calling to the boy, "What are you doing?"
"I'll be like a guardian angel. Shoot anyone that gets in the way. Now just keep pushin' the damn cart."
He heard the older men sigh in aggravation, but didn't complain otherwise. The Bostonian scowled as the cart returned back to the daylight, and he quickly shot at the RED Scout that was running towards them. The man shot back before ducking into the nearby alcove. BLU Scout frowned quickly replaced with a scream as an arrow lodged into his shoulder, causing him to topple onto the ground.
"You okay, Guardian Angel?" the Romanian questioned, smile on his face.
"I swear I hate every single one of you."
"Yeah, w-" the man was interrupted by beeping and the rapid-fire bullets from a sentry hiding in the alcove, the man falling motionless to the ground after the barrage.
"Aw shit." the Demoman cursed. "C'mon, lad, help me move this bloody thing."
"Uh, in case you didn't see, there's an arrow in my freakin' shoulder."
"Ye can still push with yer other hand. Get your scrawny ass up here before the sentry gets ye."
"Hey! My ass is not scrawny! It's the pants!"
"Whatever ye say, lad."
Grumbling under his breath, the dark brunette quickly scattered to get to his feet. He heard the RED Scout from before laugh, then there was the sensation of the bullets piercing his flesh, the white light, the searing intensity that coursed through his veins, and the respawn room in his sights. He looked over as the silhouette of the Spy appeared next to him, a moment passing before the man was there beside him.
The Italian seethed, wringing the handle of his knife in his hands as he glared at the Bostonian. "The fucking French bastard was disguising himself as you!"
Scout smirked, patting the other man's shoulder and letting out a joking sigh, "Isn't that part of your ever loved job description?"
"Shut up, Princess."
The two grinned before running back into the field. The Heavies were having a fist fight, Snipers were shooting arrows all over, Soldiers and Demomen jumping with their rockets and sticky bombs, Pyros lighting everything on fire. General chaos. The life they learned to live.
"Yo, Prince Charming, you there?" he whispered as he snuck through the tunnel, looking over his shoulder to check for another sudden Pyro attack.
The cloaked man snickered, "Right behind you."
"There's a sentry in that little doorway whatever thing in front of the bomb. Can you sap it?"
"Job description."
"Yeah yeah, get your ass goin'."
The man's footsteps faded ahead as the Scout continued to slowly make his way towards the end of the tunnel. He waited a moment at the edge, grinning as he heard the distressed cry from the RED Engineer and dashed towards the bomb, sliding to the side away from the still possible threat. Then he heard the sentry explode. Then he felt a presence behind him.
"Who's the best?" Spy cooed as he decloaked.
"Me."
"Maybe at sucking, sure."
"You thought the Frenchie was me."
"...Yeah... well."
"Whatever, man. Just push the stupid cart."
The match went on for minutes more, the battle escalating further as the bomb continued on it's path along the tracks. Corpses were strewn across the battlefield, bullets and ashes and sinew littered the ground. The yelling never stopped. The bomb was nearing it's final checkpoint.
"I could use a little help here!" Scout cried out, flinching as bullets landed beside him. His ear was bleeding from getting a little too close to one of the Demoman's bombs, and everything in general just hurt. He wasn't getting very far with the cart. Jeeze, where was everyone?
"Aw, is the baby all alone?" his lip furled in disgust as the RED Scout walked alongside him, hands folded behind his head as he grinned. "Poor, poor baby."
"I ain't no damn baby."
"All I ever hear you do is whine and snivel. Prove it to me otherwise, baby boy." he scoffed, sidestepping to stand infront of the BLU member, glaring down as he continued to walk.
"I don't know who you've been listenin' to, but it sure ain't me, pal." He cocked his head to the side and returned the glare, eyebrows raising a little as he saw a gleam of an arrowhead in the distance. Without another word, he grabbed his Scattergun and aimed it at the RED Scout, who did the same. He grinned. "Don't know why you didn't just shoot me, pal. You're dead in three seconds."
The RED Scout didn't say a word, merely glared and pulled the trigger the moment an arrow pierced into his skull. His aim threw off as the lifeless body fell, but the BLU Scout seethed as a bullet sunk into his abdomen.
"Why didn't you just shoot him?" he winced as he glanced over to the decloaking Italian. He was about to respond before the Spy's eyes widened and he grabbed the younger man and pushed him to the ground, hissing about the RED Sniper. Whatever arrow was supposed to be shot never happened, the men looking up to see their enemy hanging off a ledge, arrow lodged between his eyes.
The men were about to wave and thank the Englishman, but a rush of intense pain shot through their bodies. Scout grimaced as his ears exploded with high pitched ringing and squealing, his eyesight turning blurry and swaying as his head pounded and scratched and clawed and his heart was beating faster and faster. It eventually felt like it wasn't there anymore. He couldn't remember how to breathe. He had to force himself to take breaths but he was forgetting how it worked. He struggled to look over at his teammate, who looked to be hunched over. It was hard to tell. He was seeing dots. They were clouding his vision.
Then everything was gone.
