A man was meditating in the forest. He could hear the birds in the trees and the wind whistling through the branches. The air carried the scent of rain and the distant, cold promise of winter. The sky was a steel gray and the moss beneath him was damp and soft.
He was staring at his hands. They were large and calloused from so much fighting. He could see many burn marks across his skin, along with reminders of arrows, knives, and especially bullets. He traced them with his fingers and flashes of battle seared his mind. There were so many he couldn't recall which time he'd been shot or burned or stabbed had left which scars.
Normally such instances would be painful, but since someone had released him from the helmet, being possessed by that thing was already feeling like a bad dream.
How long had it been? 5 years? 10? Longer? He was free now, free to run and sing and protect the planet from evil, evil Mann as he'd been born to do...
Or was he? There was a war going on right behind him. Mercenaries and hippies were natural enemies, but thanks to being so open-minded (a blessing as well as a curse), he had become fond of the other BLU's. He couldn't just up and leave them to their fate... could he?
A doe and her fawn had been watching him for about an hour. The fawn, still wearing its spots, came close enough to touch his cheek with its nose. He laughed and the fawn jumped, running back to its mother on unsteady legs.
"You'll have to leave," he told them. "I'm expecting company, and he's fond of venison." Yeck. Considering Soldier's penchant for meat and almost nothing else ever, the man was sure he'd never get the taste out of his mouth.
Sure enough, Soldier's latest host found his glade by falling from the sky. And perhaps through some branches.
"MAGGOT!" Soldier said through Scout's body. "I ORDER YOU TO—ooh, a deer! C'mere, Bambi."
Soldier aimed at the doe, who, of course, froze on the spot. Scout resisted with all his strength, saying there was no reason to kill anything because they had all the food they needed—not because that movie scarred him for life, ok—but there was nothing he could do against Soldier's willpower.
Then the other man stood between him and the deer. It was Soldier's old body all right; buzz cut and muscular and... completely naked.
Soldier snarled. "Get out of the way! You wouldn't die for a couple dumb animals, would you?"
"I've died a thousand times," the man replied. "And you know I won't respawn, so you won't shoot."
Soldier wrestled with indecision for a moment, more incredulous at this guy's actions than hungry. In that moment the animals vanished, so he begrudgingly put his rocket launcher away.
"Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down," Scout thought.
"Oh, shush," Soldier reprimanded him. "Like that's the worst thing you've seen today."
"Soldier, what have you done?" the man asked, horrified. "You've... you've taken over a boy?"
"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" Soldier yelled. "THIS was done TO ME by Scout and Spy! Way to go, geniuses!"
"Shut up!" Scout yelled back.
"No, YOU shut up!"
"It wasn't even my idea!"
"You KNEW the helmet was strange, and you PUT ME ON YOUR HEAD ANYWAY! It IS your fault, now DEAL WITH IT!"
"God damn it, when I get my body back..."
"Right. About that," said Soldier, addressing the naked guy. "What was your name again?"
"Stag of the Celestial Light," answered Stag of the Celestial Light.
"...Good god," Soldier said, pinching the top of his nose. "Right, Hippie. Let's stop all this nonsense and get back to the front."
"No," said Hippie. "In fact, I'm done talking to you. Scout, I'm sorry this has happened—"
"WHAT?! Don't ignore me!" Soldier yelled, stomping his feet. "I'M IN CHARGE HERE!"
"—and I know you're terrified," Hippie went on. "I was going to see if I could make cars electric, but I'm sure that can wait. I promise you, I'll get you out of this mess."
"All right! Thanks, pally!" thought Scout, instantly liking Hippie despite his lack of pants.
Soldier growled. "Scout says, 'stop talking and put on the helmet already and no one cares about cars that can't go fast'."
"No I didn't!"
"Heh, you're still a bad liar, Soldier," said Hippie, folding his arms and smirking.
"Nu-uh!" said Soldier, mimicking his posture.
"Woah! Can you hear me?" thought Scout.
"Sort of," Hippie answered. "I'm very attuned to spiritual energy. I can sense what you're generally feeling and thinking, if not exact words... and here's the good news: you feel weak right now, but I know from experience, you're at least as strong as he is," Hippie said, pointing at the helmet.
Scout would have grinned if he could. Soldier was not amused, and now he was being attacked on two fronts. How could he convince both of them to get things back to normal?
Hippie, probably sensing his inner turmoil, stepped in. "Soldier, we have our disagreements—"
"HA!"
"—but we're both American. You've done some cruel things, but how could you steal my freedom? How could you go that far?"
"You don't count!" Soldier spat back. "You've stepped in the way of your own nation's progress to protect the environment! Who cares if one kind of owl or lizard goes extinct?! You're practically a traitor!"
Hippie waited a second. "And Scout?" he said. "The baseball-loving, caffeine-guzzling Bostonian? Does he not count?"
Soldier started. Scout was listening intently for once, but this time Soldier had nothing to say.
"Well?" pressed Hippie.
Soldier shook his head. "Son, we must defeat RED, and my men need a leader. Come to your senses and resume your patriotic duty!"
"Imprisoned in my own body? A slave? Out of the question." Hippie's voice was surprisingly soothing in comparison to Soldier's, but there was a great deal of pain behind those words. "You made me kill people, made me wear leather and eat meat without a shred of guilt. Lie to yourself all you want, but you're not human. You're not even alive. You're a parasite."
"...That's not fair..." Soldier said softly. "I didn't ask for this! Who the hell would want to be a hat? I can't live without a host. You're asking me to..."
Hippie approached at great personal risk. "Soldier, we're not friends, but I believe everything has a right to exist. If you let Scout go right now, I'll find someone you can—"
"LIAR!" Soldier yelled. "No one would do that for me! You least of all!"
"I swear to you I will!"
"Bull shit!" Soldier yelled. "God, I knew this was a waste of time. AND a waste of a perfectly good body! I think your hair is longer already!"
"Oh, I'm growing it back," Hippie replied. "In fact I have half a mind never to cut it again!"
"...You disgust me. Now that you have your precious FREE WILL back," Soldier mocked, "What will you do with it?"
"Save the world."
"That's MY job!" Soldier said, getting his rocket launcher back out. "Go enjoy the country you don't deserve, maggot. If I see you anywhere NEAR my battlefield, I'll treat you like America is SUPPOSED to treat you people!"
Despite protests from the others, Soldier fired at his feet and became airborne, heading back to the barracks. After a while, Solder realized Scout's legs couldn't take that kind of punishment without falling off, so he was forced to walk the rest of the way.
Scout was so thrown by their whole ordeal he couldn't form a proper sentence. Soldier and Hippie couldn't agree, and Scout figured he knew where that put him. Frankly Scout wanted to put it off, hoping against all reason that Soldier would let him go anyway, even if it meant Soldier would basically cease to be.
Eventually Soldier sighed and confirmed Scout's fears. "Son, I'm sorry. Hippie's right, I've... I've taken your life from you.
"The worst part is I have no choice but to keep doing it. I already know once I'm off your head you'll put a grenade under me—"
"Soldier, I wouldn't—"
"Yes you would, I saw you think it," Soldier replied. His tone was matter-of-fact and not the least bit angry. "I don't blame you. I'm sorry, I am. I am SO sorry, but the BLUs can't win without us."
"You mean without YOU."
"Yes," he answered without hesitation.
"W—wait! I mean—what if we win the war and beat RED? Then can you let me go?"
"Son... there is always war," said Soldier. "America isn't going to defend itself!"
"So dat's it? I'm just... gonna be like dis? Forever?"
"Yes."
Scout fell silent as Soldier trudged over a hill. Thunder rumbled in the distance and it started to rain. It poured harder and harder the closer he got. Scout could feel his uniform getting soaked and his body becoming colder. Soldier didn't bother to do anything to make it more comfortable for him, or take a break to let his legs and arms rest. His back ached from the rocket launcher his arms were too weak to carry, and those stupid iron boots he was wearing for some reason made his too-small feet bleed.
"...Well, the good news is you'll get nice, big muscles! And finally grow facial hair! I can... I can make that happen..." Soldier said, making a light attempt at humor.
Scout didn't laugh. His only hope now was a naked hippie in the forest who would probably get hypothermia if this weather kept up.
"I wouldn't count on it," Soldier scoffed. "I may be a haunted helmet, but even I understand human nature better than THAT guy. There is only ONE universal language, and it AIN'T spoken with HUGS. Tch."
Hippie found shelter in a thicket. He sat cross-legged as what little water that reached him washed over his head and shoulders. He could sense many animals nearby, hiding from him, hoping he wouldn't notice their presence.
He felt very calm and focused, if not as serene as he'd liked. Of course he couldn't leave Scout in that condition, and as a hippie, had no choice but to stop the conflict between RED and BLU.
The problems were how to get back to the barracks without getting killed, and how to get the helmet off of Scout, and how to convince Spy to help him find out why Redmond and Blutarch wouldn't stop fighting or just die already. He had a lot of planning to do, a lot of new friends to make...
...Though perhaps, a solution to one of those problems lay with an old enemy.
Scout's mother would be awfully upset to hear about this, wouldn't she?