It's my birthday, have a new chapter!

I'd hoped to have this up sooner but this last month has been pretty manic!

(Bonus points to anyone who knows where the chapter title came from.)

Strangely, it was easier for the BLU Spy after that. If he'd had the choice, he would have avoided the RED Sniper forever, but chance had forced them together.

It has gone badly. Terribly in fact. It had certainly done nothing to reduce the anxiety that uniform induced in him. However, it reminded him this RED Sniper was not the same man as the last.

This one was younger. He had sideburns but no facial hair. Aviators. A different rifle. A different hat. They both had facial scars though. That was an odd coincidence the Spy had noticed. The last Sniper he'd worked with has had a small scar on his face, and the one he worked with now had two.

This RED Sniper's scar was uglier than the last, who'd just had a straight slice across one cheek. This Sniper's scar ran down his face as an ugly, raised thing that stood out starkly, especially when he'd pulled his lips back into a snarl.

BLU Spy had no special love for this new Sniper, but he had no reason to fear him like the last. As much as it twisted at his stomach and made his hands shake, he could face this new threat.

Especially when the RED Sniper's back was turned.

The first time, he found the RED Sniper lying on his stomach, rifle carefully aimed through a gap in the building's wall. He never saw it coming.

The second time, the Sniper was already wounded, arm clutched to his chest. BLU Spy slipped out of his hiding place near the large health pack he'd been watching, and slipped a knife into the RED's spine.

The third time came a day later and it was a close thing. The Sniper heard him coming and started to turn. That had been a messy kill, one the Spy wasn't proud of it. It had taken a while for the shaking to stop after that, and even longer for him to try again.

Another day later he did, but too much rode on it this time. His team were too desperate for him to remove the Sniper so they could capture the final briefcase. He rushed into the job. Rushed into the room. Right into the enemy Sniper.

He felt the cut of the Sniper's kukri for the first time. At least it was over quickly.

The Spy picked himself up out of respawn and headed back out before anyone in his team could try and punish him more than he was punishing himself for his failure.

No one seemed pleased with his progress so far, but the new Spy the least of all.

On the Saturday afternoon, two weeks after the new BLU Spy arrived, RED Spy sat down on the edge of a bed in the medical wing. He shrugged off his jacket, unbuttoned his waistcoat and rolled up his shirt sleeve as high as it would go, displaying the rarely-seen tattoos on his right arm.

'Here,' he said, tapping an empty patch of skin on his upper arm. Sniper pulled up a stool, his equipment neatly laid out on the table beside them. He pulled Spy's arm towards him and ran a thumb over the area. Smooth.

'Already shaved,' Spy said. Sniper nodded and wiped one of the antiseptic wipes Medic had supplied across the area while he studied his canvas. His sketchbook lay open on the bed, two pages covered in various possibilities for the stag's head tattoo Spy wanted. The one he'd gone for should fit into the space between the other tattoos, but only just.

'I'll have to angle it just slightly to get both antlers in symmetrically,' Sniper said, touching Spy's arm in the place to top prongs would go.

'That's perfectly fine,' Spy said.

This tattoo had been a long time coming, but when Spy had approached Sniper earlier in the week, Sniper had readily agreed. He'd been wanting to talk to Spy alone for a while now, but had struggled with himself over it. He so desperately wanted to avoid any mentions of what he'd almost done before the last BLU Spy left. It was something Sniper doubted he'd ever be able to talk about, but there were other things he desperately wanted to share. All the same, Sniper struggled to find the words.

Even when silence fell between them but for the buzz of the tattoo gun, Sniper stayed quiet, snatches of phrases resting on the back of his tongue briefly, before fluttering away to join the butterflies in his stomach.

Spy remained stoic and quiet himself, in sharp contrast to the constant chatter and curses of pain from the last person Sniper had given a tattoo, Scout.

The silence spread between them, one that would have been comfortable if only Sniper had had nothing to stay.

Spy seemed happy to let it stretch on though, or perhaps he knew there was something on Sniper's mind and was allowing him to come forward with it on his own.

It was fifteen or so minutes before Sniper finally gathered the confidence to say: 'Before the Spy – the last BLU Spy, changed bases, he left me something.'

Spy turned his head just slightly, not looking Sniper directly in the eye, but showing he was paying attention.

'He left me some information.' Sniper's hand stilled. It was shaking slightly. 'I wouldn't usually trust anything that bastard has to say, or anything he gives me, but it filled some gaps in. Gaps I hadn't even realised were there.'

Spy remained silent, allowing Sniper to explain in his own time.

'You know that information you got on me, the stuff you shared with the BLU Spy?' There was a slight bite to the words, that of a past transgression that was hard to forgive or forget.

Spy nodded, jaw tight. He deserved that tone. Deserved worse, perhaps.

Sniper shifted slightly, looking away. He couldn't bring himself to switch the tattoo gun off though. Somehow that would lend this more weight, more finality.

'He looked into my past. Went digging for more information. I don't know if he was specifically looking for info on Michelle—my late fiancée, or if he just found it by accident. But...he found out things I didn't know.'

Finally knowing the truth had lifted a great weight off Sniper's shoulders, but the truth had settled over him in its place. He'd wanted to yell from the roof tops that it hadn't been his fault, that none of it had been his fault. He hadn't deserved to go to prison. He hadn't deserved to end up here, on contract zero.

He couldn't do that. But Sniper could tell the one person on his team who must believe, just as he had until so recently, that he'd been the one at fault. That he'd murdered an innocent woman in cold blood.

'She wasn't who I thought she was. We didn't meet by accident. She wasn't really interested in me.' Bitterness bled into his words, bitterness and hurt. 'None of it was real. I was just a mark. A target. I didn't know. I should have known though, I should have guessed, I mean—' How could anyone like her have ever really loved a guy like me?

Sniper couldn't say those words out loud.

'I was an idiot.' I loved her, I loved her so damn much.

'I'd tried moving on from working for people who didn't like loose ends, you see. So as soon... as soon as it became clear I was leaving.' Because of her. He'd been searching for an out for a while, sure, but he'd only left in the end because of her. The irony of it burned. 'They gave her her orders.'

The next bit stuck in his throat, impossible to shape into words.

'So she attacked you while you slept,' Spy said softly.

'Yeah,' Sniper agreed, staring down at his hands. 'Don't know if she made a mistake or if she changed her mind or didn't care enough to make sure it was a clean cut...' He trailed away, tracing the scar across his throat with his free hand.

'But she failed her mission. And I woke up. And...' Again, the words abandoned him, even though he'd gone over the story in his head again and again and again from every angle.

'You reacted in self defence.'

'Yeah,' Sniper said, his voice croaky. He finally turned the tattoo gun off.

Spy turned to face him fully. Sniper didn't look up from the tattoo gun.

'Would the old BLU Spy have gained anything from lying about this?'

Sniper hesitated, an unexpected flicker of anger flickering through him.

'Why? Do you think it's more likely I killed my fiancée in cold blood than the old BLU Spy told the truth for once?'

'No,' Spy said evenly. 'While I'm suspicious of any information the old BLU Spy passed on, you have never struck me as someone who would be guilty of a crime of passion, nor do I think you would intentionally harm a partner.'

So what had Spy thought had happened before now? Sniper wondered. He didn't ask.

'However, I do wonder what he would gain by giving you such information.'

'I know it sounds, well, unlikely, but I think it might have been an apology, kinda.'

An apology for using the one thing against him that could drive him to trying to kill himself.

'Possibly,' Spy said, in a tone of voice that Sniper couldn't read. 'How about I look into it for you? Find out for sure if this information is one hundred percent accurate.'

'That...that would help. A lot,' Sniper admitted, glad he hadn't had to ask for that himself.

'Consider it done,' Spy said firmly. 'If he managed to find that information, I will be able to as well.'

Sniper let out a quiet sigh of relief. He'd wanted to talk to Spy about this ever since that night. He'd wanted to share the revelation of his innocence, and what better person to tell than the only other one who knew the original version of events that had haunted Sniper for years?

'Thanks,' Sniper said, turning the tattoo gun back on and returning to his work.

Spy turned away with a grunt as the needle bit into him again.

For a while, a more relaxed silence fell between them until Spy asked, 'So what do you think of the new BLU?'

Sniper huffed in amusement. 'Well, after dealing with the last BLU Spy, this one's pretty pathetic in comparison. I think he's only got me, what, four, maybe five times so far? I've killed him more times than that in one day! I've lost track of how often I've moved into a new position, only to find him hiding behind something, thinking nobody could see him. And I've beaten him in hand-to-hand combat, even when he had a gun!' Sniper broke off with a laugh, and added, 'His face when I caught him trying to get the intelligence! Has he managed to get it even once yet? Even I've got it a couple of times this week!' So yeah, I can't say I think much of him so far!'

'I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss him,' Spy said.

Sniper's face fell. 'Not dismissing him,' he said, as he wiped excess ink from the most recent part of the tattoo. 'Just saying it like it is.'

Spy stayed thoughtfully silent for a minute before saying, 'He's impressively quiet.'

'Yeah? Hadn't noticed.'

'Exactly.'

'Hmmpth.'

'He's managed to sneak up on me a few times without me realising.'

'And that's impressive is it?'

'Oh yes,' Spy said. 'Have you ever even heard a word from him?'

'Probably. I mean, I've got to have... maybe?' Sniper brow furrowed as he thought about it.

'I haven't. I'd been hoping for an accent to give away where he comes from because my initial search into his identity has pulled up nothing. Nothing at all. I haven't even been able to pull my usual strings to get hold of the info RED or BLU have on him.'

Like he must have done when he made that deal with the last Spy, Sniper thought.

'It's as though he doesn't even exist... I'll keep digging though,' Spy said, before sighing and changing the subject.

'You're right that he's still getting used to this location, but all of us had to at some point. I mean, you didn't know all the best sniping spots straight away, did you?'

'Course not,' Sniper admitted. 'Still seen him do stupid stuff though. Watched him completely fuck up an easy backstab on Medic yesterday by dropping his knife!'

'Yes. I've seen...some odd behaviour.'

Another short amount of time passed in silence before Spy continued. 'You know, I think there might be something wrong with him.'

'Yeah?' Sniper said with a snort. Something wrong with this guy, in comparison to the last?

'Hmm, yes. Can't say for sure what it is exactly what it might be, not yet, but his behaviour is...odd.'

'Yeah?' Sniper repeated, feeling a little more curious now.

'Yes. Can't quite put my finger on it though. He makes odd, clumsy little mistakes like you've seen, but he clearly experienced in self defence and some kind of martial art from the way he fights. And the way he moves...like a dancer, almost.'

'Like a dancer?' Sniper scoffed, the image of a BLU Spy twirling past in a fluffy pink tutu popping into his head.

'Yes,' Spy said with a nod, seemingly too wrapped up in his puzzling to notice Sniper's tone of voice. 'Seen some good use of planning and strategy too. It just seems to fall apart sometimes for some reason... And his hands twitch.' Spy held up his own hands, shaking them slightly, experimentally, until they were moving how he wanted. 'Like this.'

'Haven't really looked at his hands,' Sniper admitted.

'You should! They tell you a lot about a man.'

'Like his glove size?' Sniper hazarded.

'Exactly!'

They joked a little from there, talking about Demo's latest prank. It had involved hiding a dead fish in Medic's ceiling, driving Medic slowly mad over the last few days due to all the odd things he had stored away in his lab that could possibly start to smell, but shouldn't have smelt anything like rotting fish. The source had only been discovered when rats got into the ceiling and Medic went up there to explore. The culprit was still unknown to all. All but Sniper and Spy that was, who had both noticed how Demo had pushed the fish around his plate last time Medic served up one of his dreaded healthy meals. They both agreed Medic probably brought it upon himself and promised not to tell anyone.

It wasn't long until Sniper finished their first session, allowing Spy to see the solid black outline of the stag's head.

'Sorry about how long it took,' Sniper said, sure a proper tattoo artist could have done the work in half the time.

Spy waved him away and said, 'I didn't mind at all, we had plenty to talk about.'

Sniper smiled as he gave the tattoo one last clean and covered it up.

'All good to go,' Sniper said.

'Thank you,' Spy replied sincerely. He turned to leave the room but paused at the door.

'Sniper,' he said.

'Yeah?' Sniper asked, looking up from the tattoo gun he was trying to remember how to dissemble.

'Promise me something when you're out there.'

'Yeah?'

'Promise me that you'll never forget this Spy is not the last. Promise me you won't take out your feelings for one on the other. They may wear the same uniform, but they're not the same man.'

'Of course!' Sniper snapped, his good mood ruined.

He wanted to argue, but Spy left with a final nod, leaving Sniper to clean up and stew in his own thoughts.

Of course he didn't think they were the same man! What kind of idiot did Spy take him for? Why the hell did he have to go and say that for?

Deep deep down, Sniper knew he was only this angry because Spy had seen right through him, clearer than he'd seen himself. He allowed his anger to bubble up to the front, because if he didn't, it would leave only guilt in its wake.

Things deteriorated from there. The BLU Spy wished he could blame it on the odd behaviour of the enemy Sniper, but it was all his fault. Or at least, it felt that way when his team trekked out of respawn the next Friday, having lost every single match that week. Apparently it had been months since that last happened.

Months since such failure.

And who could have been the main cause of it but one person?

Only the Soldier and Heavy outwardly blamed the BLU Spy, but he felt the rest of the team's disappointment and disapproval weighing down on him from all sides.

Even if no one had blamed him, the Spy would have blamed himself.

He spiralled. Down down down.

He knew the signs, knew the patterns. Knew how much harder it would be to drag himself out of bed, how much longer it would take to fall asleep at night, lying awake with his past threatening to crush him to death.

But he got up each morning all the same.

He continued on as normal.

Set himself goals, tiny goals to achieve. Things even he could do.

The next one was to kill that RED Sniper.