Chapter 10: Green-eyed monster

He knew Lelio.

This wasn't it. This wasn't all.

Until Sniper held the man's decapitated head in his own hands, he would never believe that this was over.

He had already shot him once. And he still returned.

This wasn't over.

"Sniper, you said that Medic was tortured,- how bad was it?"

Spy's question pulled him from his thoughts. "He-, he cut his fingers off. Three the last time I saw him." Sniper hoped that Spy didn't pry further. "And he got beat up pretty bad."

To his relief, the Frenchman just nodded and waved the BLU Medic over.

"As you are also a doctor, and in light of our current alliance, I would appreciate it if you would take care of our injured teammate." Spy briefly asked for the BLUs assistance.

The enemy Medic closed his eyes whilst nodding in agreement and turned to walk into their monitoring room, followed by the BLU Soldier.

"Okay, now, this really freaks me out." Scout tried to hold his head, elbows propped on the dining table. "That guy was dead? Like-, really dead? And how long is that ago? 30 years?!"

Sniper frowned. "I shot him about 29 years ago." He shook his head in disbelief.

"Holy shit." Scout timidly looked over to him. "And after all this time..."

"He came back." Sniper finished his thought.

He always came back.

Squeezing his eyes shut again, the hall lights were way too bright to handle right now, Sniper buried his face in his hands again. He didn't wanted to think about this any further. There was no possibility that Lelio could have survived, he thought.

"Please do me a favor." An hand was placed on his shoulder again and Sniper looked up to Spy.

"Write everything down you can remember about this Lelio. Every little detail."

Sniper looked away. Please don't.

"I know these aren't pleasant memories, but if he is so overly prepared we need to be a step ahead. We need information about him so that we can figure out his weaknesses, or possibly find an advantage against him."

The Marksman just threw his hand into the air, giving up on any resistance. Another gesture from Spy, and Scout hurried to get pencil and paper from their kitchen.

"Just start with name, appearance, nationality, age and so on. If we are lucky, he will take his time before he makes the next move. Perhaps I can get one of my contacts to help me get my hands on some of his files." Spy continued.

Sniper just nodded in slight annoyance, grabbed the items their Scout brought and began to write the requested information down. However, as he did, his vision became blurry and his lack of practice over the years had left his writing nearly illegible. He squeezed his eyes shut again, tried to squint and shake the dizziness away, as the bright white paper somehow hurt his vision.

"I need to drink something..." Sniper said and tried to swallow with his dry throat.

Upon getting up, the whole room began to spin, bodies deformed and little black dots danced in front of him. One step further and everything went dark.

He heard someone calling his name, but his hearing was muted, as if a blanket had been pulled up over his head.

The calling repeated.

It got louder.

Clearer.

"Lawrence!"

He blinked. Someone was shaking him. And as Sniper turned his head around in confusion, he found himself on the floor, being held by Soldier and shaken by Spy.

"Laurie! Talk to me!"

Sniper blinked again. "Wha-"

"Uhm, not to be rude-. But I don't think that he can do much right now."

That was their Scout, Sniper guessed. He couldn't see him right now, everything was so bright, so weird. Apparently, the last traces of adrenaline had left him and his body revealed its real condition. Physically and mentally overloaded, barely any sleep, and both ongoing for the last few days.

Sniper was done for.

Spy snipped his fingers in front of his fallen teammate's face and noticed that Sniper's eyes moved, but received no answer. So he decided to slap Sniper lightly and, when that didn't get a response, he slapped him again, this time harder.

"Don't you leave me now!" Spy's voice nearly broke.

Soldier let his teammate fall on the floor to pull the Frenchman back and Scout grimaced at the scenery.

"Calm down, Frenchie! This man fought and escaped the hands of death today and earned a full warrior's rest!"

But Spy freed himself from the harsh American grip and hurried down to Sniper again, cupping his face. "Scout, bring some water!"He ordered in a tone that allowed no refusal.

Scout didn't obey his words. Instead, he touched the Frenchman's shoulder and Spy jerked around and looked at the worried faces of the others.

"Please don't wake him up, Spy. Let him sleep." Scout's voice sounded unusually mature and full of concern.

Spy turned around again, looked at the face his hands held tight, and tried to accept that Sniper had lost consciousness.

Bells were ringing. But he didn't get up yet, he instead leaned back in his chair, folding his failed test paper into something that resembled a bird. He sat in the last row of the classroom at the window table that he had chosen, like always. As he finished his little paper sculpture, he could look out and watch the other students run out. But he stayed. He had to.

Just because he had thrown some rocks at some cocky classmates again. Their own fault for chasing him up a tree, he thought. But for his teachers, he was the attacker, acting immature for his age and being rude to his classmates. And detention was their solution.

The young man sitting next to him didn't really belong here, he thought. He knew his name, but had never spoken to him. Needless to say, almost no one spoke to him. Not because his classmate barely spoke English yet, that was to be expected as an exchange student, but because of his behavior.

Every pencil was the same length, his clothing was always clean, ironed, and pressed; the teacher struggled to give him homework or projects to do, because he finished each quickly, and flawlessly. To have given him a challenge, the teachers would have had to given him work of students several years his senior. He never broke the rules, he always followed orders, and probably had already done every possible workshop the school could offer. The other students called him names, threw his stuff into the garbage and, of course, would try to beat him up after school, especially after he told a teacher the names of the ones who had cheated on their tests.

And now this guy was sitting next to him, with straight back, hands in his lap, facing the teacher's desk to wait until detention was over. Like a pet waiting for his owner to release a 'stay' command.

And why? Because his classmate decided, on his own again, to clean the art room and thrown out several things that wasn't trash, but carefully created pieces of sculpture, paintings and other sorts of crafts. The room looked so new, that one would think it had been established only yesterday.

Needless to say, none of the others, including the teacher, were pleased with this kind of 'effort'.

And so that guy had to be here, too.

He agreed with the thought that his classmate was some kind of... freak. But the young man only meant well, so he tried not to judge him. Sure, the exchange student's behaviour could be annoying and even unnerving, but that's just how he was.

"Guess ya got an A on this test, too, eh?" Lawrence threw his paper bird out of the window.

The teacher looked up once, but decided not to scold him for his little bit of littering.

The other student didn't move to look at him, but slightly nodded.

"A plus?"

He nodded again.

"Bloody hell, is there anything that you haven't aced?"

"Language!" The teacher hissed at Lawrence.

The scolded youth lowered his voice and until he was sure that the teacher was deep into his book again before he spoke.

"Can you help me in math?"

It was worth a try, Lawrence thought. That guy was a genius and his own friends grades weren't any better than his.

He watched the exchange student, still sitting like a statue, save for blinking a few times. Either he had ignored his question or he was thinking about it, Lawrence couldn't tell.

"Sure." Was his classmate's short answer.

Lawrence grinned. "Thanks, mate!"

The teacher 'shhd' whilst giving them an evil look.

He wasn't sure if that was actually a good idea, but he wanted to give the exchange student a chance. Maybe he wouldn't fail the next test with his help.

Lawrence turned and leaned in to whisper to his classmate again, but his teacher wasn't really reading yet.

"Mr. Mundy, if I hear or see you talk another word you will stay a whole extra hour!"

That made Lawrence jerk back onto his seat again, pressing his lips together. As if detention wasn't already long enough, he thought. The young Australian could handle the silence and the fact that he had to calmly sit here, he just would like to do it outdoors.

But at least he could look outside.

And while looking out the window, his mind could wander anywhere it wanted to.

The next bell ringing drew Lawrence from his daydreaming, as he had nearly fallen asleep. The teacher already walked out to announce that the detention was over. He stretched himself first, while his classmate just got up and walk straight to the exit. Upon opening the door, he could catch up to the exchange student, but they suddenly crashed into each other. His classmate had wanted to exit the room, but was immediately pushed back into the class by some angry art student.

"Ya better stay in there, ya basket case!"

Lawrence pushed his classmate back on his feet and rushed past him. "Oi, get your bloody shit together!"

The young Australian was known to get into fist fights, but his tall stature and his already low voice was enough to chase the way smaller student in front of him away. Facing his classmate again, he saw that the normally unmoved face gave him a very little smile and Lawrence grinned back at him.

"Ya better start to defend yourself, or ya'll be a bloody pushover for the rest of yeh life!"

A sweet voice echoed through the corridors as a young, thin woman approached the two.

"Laurie! Why are ya so late!"

His girlfriend, kind of. Actually they had only just started dating.

"Ugh and ya wearing bloody green again!" She grabbed him kindly at his collar. "Don't wear this ugly shirt to our date, hmm, will ya please?"

Lawrence sighed. "I actually like green..." He said under his breath.

He noticed his girl staring back at the exchange student and already felt how she tried to pull him over to the other side of the corridor. "Ew, what is he doing here." She growled in a whisper.

"Oi, luv – he's gonna help me with math later!"

This seemed to displease her greatly. "Oh- no. We wanted to get ice-cream at Ricky's, remember?"

Lawrence rolled his eyes. Dating for a week and already so demanding. He really had to think about this relationship again. "Fine, luv. See ya later."

A quick kiss on the cheek and the woman was finally satisfied, walking down the corridor to her next class in her fancy high heels.

"Girls." He grinned back at his classmate. "Sorry for that. Can't be at two places at the same time. Tomorrow maybe?"

"You will change the shirt for her?"

This question caught Lawrence off-guard. "Uh, yeah I guess. If she doesn't like it...ya know."

"But you said you like the colour."

Lawrence raised a brow while stepping closer to his classmate, who wanted to hand him his notebooks.

"Yeah, but what can I do? Girls will be girls." He laughed while facing the exchange student.

"Oi, you got insane green eyes man! Never noticed that before!"

He leaned in closer to look at them. Green was already pretty rare but that color was truly insane. "Bloody cool."

"...Thanks."

Lawrence found himself surprised as he heard the soft chuckle from his classmate for the first time.

"Name's Lelo, right?"

"Lelio Gabriele da Montefeltro."

Lawrence gulped. "Is there an easy version for that?"

"Lelé."

"Alright, Lelé! See ya tomorrow!" Lawrence waved him goodbye as he walked towards the stairs. He had to hurry to change his shirt after all.

But as he was still close to his classroom, he thought hearing someone repeating the word 'green' over and over again.

Lawrence waited in front of the school for over thirty minutes by now. Either his girl was chitchatting with someone again or maybe she was doing her make-up or other stuff woman do, he thought. And he even went back home to change her shirt for her.

The young Australian let out an annoyed sigh and entered the school yard again. He tried to pass the large crowd that had built itself in the main hall, he had to get up to his girlfriend's class.

But squeezing through he had to stop in mid-walk.

There she was.

She had slipped and fell over the stair-rails, they said.

Two stories down, it was just very bad luck, they said.

Maybe she could walk one day again, they said.

But she didn't say anything. Ever. Not to him.

And for years he wouldn't find out why.

Cold. His head felt cold. It was so good. Sniper squinted his eyes and slightly turned his head to let the wet rag fall from his forehead. He moaned as the cold feeling returned, someone was holding his face and put the cloth back to its place.

"Laurie?"

Sniper squinted again, the light was still too bright. Someone touched his cheek.

"Hey-" A face moved into his view. "-Are you there?"

"Spook?" Sniper coughed, his throat felt dry like a desert. But his friend already held a water glass to his lips.

With long greedy gulps he swallowed nearly the whole glass in one breath.

"Easy, don't overdo it."

Sniper groaned at the last sip. "Thanks, mate."

He blinked and lifted his head a little as his eyes adjusted to the current brightness. He seemed to be back in the smoking room. The only couch had been moved here, right in front of the still flickering hearth. And he laid on it, wrapped in a soft and warm blanket and his head supported by at least two pillows.

The cold cloth on his head disappeared as Spy grabbed it gently to squeeze its remaining fluid into a bucket, quickly letting it soak up fresher water by pushing it into it again, and squeezed it right after. Sniper watched him calmly and let his friend rub his forehead with it, leaving it on his head with a sigh.

Spy smiled.

He smiled back.

"Medic and the BLU Scout are back. Both are fine." Spy finally broke the silence.

Sniper furrowed his brows. "His hand..."

A heavy sigh left his friend. "The injury was already too old for the Medigun and we also couldn't stitch the fingers back on. They are lost. But the doctor is fine, he overcame his shock and is back on his feet. He already jokes about it, that his left hand looks like a crab's claw." Spy smiled at him again and Sniper could leave a hoarse chuckle.

"Yeah, doc gets over things pretty fast ."

Just by now, he noticed that the Frenchman held his hand again, squeezing it softly. He also noticed that something was off.

"What else happened?" Sniper was aware that he had fainted, but he didn't knew for how long.

"Well, where do I begin..." Spy took a deep breath in.

"After you found your well needed rest-." Starting with teasing, that was so usual for Spy that it made Sniper chuckle again.

"- we brought you here. I directed our Scout to watch over this room. I joined the rest of both teams after that."

Sniper slightly nodded while listening.

"They brought our Medic in, the BLU doctor took care of him as fast as he could. The BLU Scout had found him first, actually."

Now this surprised the Marksman and he raised a brow.

"Apparently that young BLU had run through most of the underground system, he told us that he made loud noises and had tried to taunt your stalker to chase him. But-"

Spy pressed his lips together whilst shaking his head. "He didn't come. He wasn't there anymore. The BLU had found the room where our Medic was kept hostage and later lead our rescue team to it. No one knows where this Lelio is by now."

Sniper took a sharp breath in. That wasn't good. Spy exchanged a look with him and the Australian noticed that Spy was absolutely aware that this was a problem.

"However-, our Engineers finally made some progress regarding the respawn problem. Kind of." He commented with a slight head tilt. "They found the place where the interference was caused. I can't recall all the technical details, but what I can tell you is that there is still a problem."

Now both frowned and Sniper noticed again, that Spy's face expression was off in some way. He still held his hand, squeezing it again.

"Your stalker had placed a self-made machine near the main wires. It directly connects with, or rather it redirects, the wiring through said machine. It also has a signal receiver, so it is truly remote controlled. And as far as I understood, the problem is the following:"

Spy took another long breath in.

"The machine causes the interference by cutting the power for both sides. The power that keeps the respawn system working. Since the receiver needs a signal, the machine can only be remote controlled from within a certain area around it. That's why he sometimes didn't, or rather couldn't switch it off. However, simply destroying the machine won't do, because since he redirected all of the wiring, that would cut off the power permanently. Our Engineer said, that he probably worked on that for month, it is supposed to be really huge."

Spy wanted to grab for his cigarette case, but Sniper distracted him from doing so by leaning up a little, supported by his free elbow and hand. "That means he is, and will stay in control of our respawn?"

"Basically...yes." The Frenchman let out a heavy sigh. "They're desperately trying to build their own remote whilst finding the right signal for the machine. I hope that works."

Now Sniper definitely knew that something was wrong. Spy didn't even looked at him once since he told him about the respawn system and now he noticed how his index finger was nervously tipping on his thigh, as the other hand squeezed his own tightly.

"Spook."

"Oui?"

"That isn't all, isn't it?"

"Oh, Apologies. You have been sleeping a while, let me see-" Spy looked up as he tried to think.

"Spook."

Spy turned to face him again, giving him a fake smile, as Sniper noticed again.

"Tell me."

Sniper knew his teammate well, and this behavior was completely wrong.

The fake smile dropped from his face and his friend looked away, but didn't let go of his hand. Spy gazed into the fire for a while before he tried to explain.

"We-," He started but immediately stopped himself. Sniper had never seen him struggling so hard to find the right words before.

"We received a message." Spy's voice was off by now. Not actually deeper or higher, just- weirder.

"From Lelio."

Sniper wanted to jump up, but froze instead.

"He gives us time until midnight." Spy licked his dry lips, his eyes switched through several items in the room. The squeezing was more violent than soft by now.

He finished with a whisper.

"Before he blows the whole facility up."

The room stayed silent for a while, or as silent as a room can be with a flickering fire and the trembling breaths of two old men. Sniper noticed after a few minutes that this room didn't even had a ticking clock, like the dining hall. Spy seemed to study his antique table, where he usually served his best French wine, rubbing his finger over an old red stain.

"If we don't hand you over." He finally added to actually finish his sentence.

But it didn't needed to be said, Sniper already knew it somehow.

"Every single room is locked down there. We could only open three by now. Every single room underneath our feet. Barricaded, and filled to its limit with TNT. I guess the Administrator isn't even aware of what is going on. This underground maze doesn't even have a camera system."

Spy nearly collapsed by thinking of it and had to bury his face in his free hand, tensing as if he wanted to scream right into it.

But instead he whispered with trembling voice.

"He could blow us up any second. The respawn system wouldn't even save us anymore. Everything would be erased from the face of the earth."

"He would blow this place up even if you hand me over." Sniper whispered and squeezed the hand back. Spy nodded slowly, his face expressed deep sorrow.

How the times flies, Sniper suddenly thought. Once a stair-pusher and now a suicide bomber. Somehow he brought up a smile.

"Spook."

"Oui?"

"Thanks for everything, really."

"Don't mention it."

Both exchanged looks again, but this time both smiled honestly. Sniper fully got up and hugged his friend from his side. Spy nudged his head against the Marksman's and laid a hand around his arm. They stayed like this for a while.

"What time is it?" Sniper broke the silence.

Spy brought up his pocket watch. "About twelve minutes until midnight."

"Okay." Sniper released his friend and unwrapped himself from the blanket.

"What do you want to do?" Spy's voice stayed calm but he looked after the Australian with a frown.

"I'll get my stuff." Sniper said upon walking towards the door.

Spy's face dropped. "Non! You won't go! You can't go!" He jumped up and ran after him.

Sniper tried his best to gently brush him off, but found himself trapped in a strong grip.

"But I have to go! Otherwise I can't argue with him over blowing the bloody place up!" He tried to explain.

But Spy tightened his grip, wrapping his other hand around his arm too. "Non! Don't you dare!"

"Spook." Sniper tried to find his eyes. "I may be the only person he listens to. I have to try."

"Non! You can't argue with that man!"

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, as the Australian remembered his last conversation with his stalker. "I have to try. That may be your only chance."

Sniper chuckled. "One person for the lives of sixteen – that's a good trade, if ya ask me."

But Spy shook his head, eyes widened. "Don't you give up now!"

"Spook, I won't put myself over the team. You are more worth than me!"

"Look at me!"

The Australian held his breath as his friend just pulled his mask off.

"Look at me." Spy's voice was merely a whisper. "And say that again."

With calm and careful movements, Sniper finally freed himself from the grip, but took his friend into a strong hug, letting Spy bury his face in the Australian's chest.

"I don't want you to die, Spook." He mumbled into his hair.

The sound his friend made resembled a sob. "I don't want you to die either."

Sniper released him. "I don't think that he wants to kill me."

"That's not what I mean." Spy swallowed, pressing his lips thin. Sniper took a breath in.

"I'm sorry, mate, I really am."

The Marksman released Spy from his hug and left the room.

A cold breeze waved over his body. He didn't have much time, so he just had grabbed the basics of his belongings and stuffed them into a sports bag he stole from Scout. Sniper was sure that none of the others had seen him, he was careful and chose to go outside through an emergency door. Hopefully, his stalker watched the base to see him, he didn't want to waste this chance.

Six minutes left until midnight.

He didn't wear his RED uniform, instead he wore some of his own clothing, an old shirt, jeans and basic leather boots. But he had taken his hat and his aviators with him, as he hadn't worn them for a while now. Sniper moved to an exit by the fence, looking around, and tried to find a shadow in the pale moonlight.

Then there were footsteps.

Sniper closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the approaching person. But he furrowed his brows as he noticed that they were pretty fast and not in a steady calm pace. Opening his eyes again, the Australian quickly turned around.

"Spook!" He hissed rather angry at his teammate.

The, now masked again, man didn't answer right away, but decided to pause his approach a few steps in front of the Marksman.

"I forgot something." Spy whispered, upon walking towards him again.

Sniper wasn't sure what he meant, but the forced and very needy hug was no surprise to him.

"You are a bloody mess, Spook." He whispered back.

"I wish I could go with you." Spy buried his face into his chest again.

A sudden pain exploded in Snipers shoulder whilst a loud, ear ringing sound reached his ear and nearly threw him from his feet. Spy's breath was merely a rattle and he looked down on him, only to see him coughing up blood.

It was a shot.

Through his shoulder, into Spy's chest.

"..Spook..?" Sniper gasped in pain, tried to hold his teammate to his feet. But his friend's legs gave away and both fell to the ground.

"Spook- talk to me." He cupped the Frenchman's face, his hands trembling.

"Leave him."

"No-...no!"

"You have to. It's better for you."

Sniper nearly teared up has he tried to hold back a sob. The man behind him gently touched his shoulders, pulled him back up.

"I will take care of it. For you."

Lelio pushed him towards the fence and raised his gun again, pointing it at the head of the rattling man to his feet.

BANG.