You're all going to hate me for this chapter.
BUT BEFORE WE GET ONTO THAT. This chapter has a lot of people to thank for it-firstly, LilyRosetheDreamer, who gave me such an amazing idea I couldn't not do anything with it, secondly, RiRi, who wrote the bit about Spy's fingers (you'll see), she's so much better with descriptive language than I am, and thirdly, to my big brothers, who are a lot of inspiration without them realizing it. And some thank-yous to some of the best reviewers in the world-Maggot Magnet (who's leaves me laughing until I am literally crying), KingdomofThomond (a steadfast and stalwart fellow if there ever was one), Jinny the Kisaragi (who's sweet as pumpkin pie!), and TinyBabyWoman (who's just a lot of awesome rolled up into one). And yes, thank you and lots of love to everyone else too. :) Trust me when I say everything is sooo appreciated.
The title of this chapter comes from the song "No More" from Into the Woods. I don't normally tell you to do things (oh who am I kidding yes I do), but it's a beautiful song and surprisingly relevant if you ascribe to the Spy-Is-Scout's-Daddy theory (which this story doesn't).
Mmmmpf! Mmmrpfomfh! (subtitle: I don't own)
Chapter Ten: They Disappoint and They Disappear, They Die but They Don't
There was no denying it. It astounded the RED team to a man, with a bit of confusion, annoyance, irritation and perhaps jealousy thrown in for good measure.
Scout had found a favorite playmate.
And that favorite playmate was Spy.
The little boy had spent all day following Spy around, and every time Spy tried to dump the boy off on someone else he'd just come running back. Spy held him at an arm's length. Scout just clambered over the arm. Spy left him outside. Scout found his way back in. Spy could do no wrong by this child.
"Scout, eat your peas."
Scout gave Engineer a 'are you really serious?' sort of look and pushed his dinner plate away. "No."
"Look, T.R.'s gonna eat some peas!" Engineer picked up Scout's untouched spoonful of peas and pressed it to Teddy Roosebelt's face.
"'kay," Scout pushed the plate towards his teddy, "Engiebear eat."
"C'mon, Scout, peas are good for you!" Engineer pleaded.
"No." Scout shook his head.
Engineer rested his chin in his hand as he thought. "Spah's eating his peas." He said in a low voice.
Scout spun around in his makeshift high chair to stare at Spy.
Sure enough, Spy had just raised his own spoonful of peas to his mouth. His eyes flickered from his wavering spoon to Scout. The eyes then rolled dramatically and the spoon finished its journey into his mouth.
Scout watched Spy chew and swallow before he pulled his plate back over. "Spoon pease." He held out his hand to Engineer.
Engineer handed the spoon back to Scout. Spy kept his eyes on his plate, swirling his spoon around in his mashed potatoes.
The rest of the team was quiet, watching the scene with bated breath.
Scout opened his mouth wide and ate a huge spoonful of peas.
There was a smattering round of applause from the rest of the table and a few whistles too. Spy slapped a palm to his face.
"Don't be so modest, crouton!" Soldier crowed. "That's a victory for our side!"
Spy peeked through his fingers at his grinning team. "I hate all of you."
"Scout certainly likes you, though." Engineer sat back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head as he did so.
Scout nodded as he shoveled another spoonful of peas into his mouth.
Spy wrinkled his nose, gaze shifting towards Scout. His gray-blue eyes flitted over the dusty boy. "'as Scout 'ad a bath recently?"
The smiles and cheers vanished in an instant.
Soldier jumped to his feet. "NOT IT!"
"My, my, I haf all zis papervork to do zis evening," Medic suddenly exclaimed. "Und Herr Heavy promised to help." Heavy shot Medic a look of thanks from across the table.
"I've got ta clean out the van," Sniper rubbed his cheek, eyes cast towards the ceiling.
"An' I said I'd help 'im with tha'." Demoman was quick to add.
Pyro made several exaggerated hand gestures between itself and Engineer. The Texan nodded. "Yeah, what Pyro said."
"Don't look at me," Spy leaned back and kicked his shoes up onto the table.
"Why not?" There must have been something interesting on the ceiling because Sniper kept staring at it. "Yer the one who brought it up. And yer the only one who could possibly get 'im inta the bath."
There was the dizzying effect of eight pairs of eyes turning to face Spy at once, and the Frenchman wondered whether he was ever going to dislodge his foot from his mouth.
Once dinner was over and the very grumpy Frenchman had hauled a very messy Scout out of the mess hall, the team breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"S'a funny ol' world, innit?" Engineer chuckled. "Spah, of all fellas here. I don't think he even likes kids."
Pyro plucked at its gloves. "Pfto grotf gru?"
"Because y'all gotta admit this is funny," Engineer reached up and took his goggles off with a little squelching noise. There were deep imprints around his warm blue eyes as he looked around at his teammates.
"I still do not understand why the baby likes skinny Frenchman." Heavy mused. "I would have thought leetle Scout would prefer you, toymaker."
Soldier nodded in agreement. "You have a way with children and machines, grease monkey. They listen to you."
"That's mighty kind of y'all to say." The surprised tone in Engineer's voice was completely honest. He had been trying his very best not to let the fact that Scout preferred Spy's company to his irk him too much.
Suddenly Medic chuckled to himself. "Perhaps it is moreover nature zan nurture." When the entire table looked him, he elaborated: "When baby ducks hatch, zey become attached to ze first thing zat zey see. Zat object, be it a fellow duck or a pair of boots, becomes its role model vile it is still young. And who was ze first person Scout saw after de-aging? Spy."
Everyone was quiet for a moment as they considered the possibility. And then bursting out laughing at the image of a duck wearing Spy's balaclava.
….
Scout peered at the warm bathwater suspiciously. "Engiebear first."
"Fine," Spy breathed out, "the bear goes first."
Ever-so-carefully, Scout dipped T.R. into the bathwater. The bear sank into the bottom of the tub. Scout watched the descent with rapt attention. After being satisfied that the water wasn't dangerous, he hoisted himself into the tub.
Spy jumped back as water sloshed out of the tub. In hindsight, it probably would have been a good idea to take off his shoes and socks before leading Scout into the tiny upstairs bathroom. At any rate he kicked off his shoes and socks, yanked off his silk tie and suit jacket, and pulled off his gloves. All of his effects he tossed in a heap outside the bathroom door—all save the balaclava. Spy wouldn't remove that for anything.
Scout leaned out of the tub as Spy took a seat on the closed toilet. His light blue eyes were on Spy's hand. "Owies," he said softly, looking up to Spy's face with concern.
Spy looked down at his hands. He had short, thick fingers and on his right hand an old bandage was wrapped over the knuckle, dirty and peeling around the edges. Over the other knuckles were scars and cuts, both fresh and old. His jagged fingernails were bitten down to the quick, the dead skin around the gnawed nails encrusted with bits of dried blood and dirt.
"Everyone has their dirty little secrets, petit," Spy answered. "Now you know one of mine." He began to pick at his cuticles. "And speaking of dirty things…"
The water that had been pristine just a few minutes ago was now a dark brown color. T.R. had been lost in the murky depths. Scout splashed the muddy water with a grin. "Yucky!"
He'd picked the cuticle too far and it had started to bleed. Spy hissed in pain and sucked at his finger. "Oui," he managed, "very yucky—non, do not dunk yourself!"
He grabbed Scout and pulled him out of the water as the toddler dunked himself under. Scout resurfaced with a gasp. "Wanna play!"
"In this water? Disgusting!"
Scout puffed out his cheeks. He glared at Spy and raised his hand high above his head. Spy's eyes narrowed. "Don't you do it."
Scout arched his eyebrows and raised a second hand.
"Scout, I am warning you…"
SPLASH!
Scout giggled at the sour expression on the dripping wet Spy's face. Spy wiped dirty water out of his eyes with a growl. "Do that again and I will spank you!"
That stopped the giggles. Scout slid backwards with wide eyes.
"Good. I am glad we're finally coming to an understanding, petit." Spy leaned over and flicked the drain on. There was a burbled roar as the noisy drain sucked the water down.
Scout scooted over to watch the water swirl down the drain.
"Careful now—" The mischievous tone was back in Spy's voice, "—you don't want the monster that lives in the pipes to get you, do you?"
Scout started. He pointed to the gurgling drain. "Gulg-gulg monster?"
Spy smirked at the boy's sudden worry. "Oh yes. A very big, very mean gulg-gulg monster. And you know what 'is favorite snack in the whole wide world is?"
Scout shook his head, one hand reaching for the bedraggled T.R.
Spy leaned in. "The gulg-gulg monster loves to snack on little boys—ARGH! SCOUT! NOT THE SUIT!"
Scout lunged himself out of the bathtub right into Spy's lap. He scrambled madly up into Spy's arms and then onto his shoulder, shouting the whole time about drain monsters. Spy reached around, trying to pry him off, but Scout's nails dug through his shirt and into his skin, hooking him there.
For a moment Scout resembled a scared, scruffy kitten. His hair stuck up in tufts, his eyes were round as saucers, and he dangled off of Spy like a ludicrous ornament.
Spy shifted. "Get off."
"No." Scout glared at him, and then at the tub. "Isa gulg-gulg monster!"
Together they watched as the last of the dirty water was sucked down the drain. The pipes gave a satisfied burble and went quiet. Nevertheless Scout waited a full minute before easing back down into Spy's lap. "All gone?"
"Oui, petit," Spy grumbled, lamenting his silk shirt, "'e is gone. Now come along." He slid the boy off his lap and reached for a towel.
Scout grabbed T.R. off of the floor. "Engiebear first!" He held up the waterlogged teddy to the towel.
"Why don't you do it?" Spy suggested, doing his absolute best to remain patient. He draped the towel around Scout's shoulders.
Scout bundled himself and T.R. up quickly, shimming up and down the towel in order to dry them both off. His teeth were already chattering from the cold air. "Done."
Spy leaned over and smoothed Scout's hair down for him. "Good. Now," he reached for the sink, where another cut-up shirt would have to do for pajamas, "it's time for bed."
Sighing in all manners of depressed acceptance, Scout allowed Spy to help him into the makeshift pajamas. He even opened his mouth and allowed Spy to give his teeth a quick brushing.
Exhaustion, Spy mused, had an interesting way of making children more compliant. Either that or Scout was a better listener than he gave him credit for.
"Francy-pants, I'm booooored." Scout had whined from the couch when Spy walked into the rec room, looking for a lost cufflink. "D'you wanna play cahds or something?"
"Non. And don't call me Francy-pants, boy." Spy sneered right back, his fingers lighting over the bookshelves.
"Gooooooooood," Scout maneuvered himself so that he was sitting upside down on the couch, brim of his hat nearly touch the floor, "you guys are no fuuuuuuuun."
"Maybe if you stopped acting like a child," Spy spat out the last word like it was something poisonous, "you could find something constructive to do."
Still hanging upside, Scout watched Spy flit around the room like a bee amongst flowers. Scout lowered his eyes to something under the coffee table, and then back up to Spy. "Ya lookin' for a cufflink?"
Spy glanced over his shoulder, startled. "Oui. 'ow did you know?"
"'Cause I can see it." Scout lowered his gaze once more to the ground, "It's undah the coffee table." He pointed to the little object in question.
"Oh." Spy blinked before following Scout's finger. Sure enough, there was the missing cufflink, dusty but otherwise unharmed. "Er, thank you, I suppose."
Scout gave him an upside-down smirk. "I did something constructive."
Spy popped the cufflink back into place. "This doesn't count."
Scout darted ahead of Spy as he pushed the door to Scout's bedroom open. Teddy bear dragging behind him, Scout made for the bed. "Go nigh-nights!"
"All right. Good night." Spy started to shut the door, but Scout's wordless whine stopped him short. He rolled his eyes and reopened the door. "What?"
"Spoi stay?" Scout's eyes were pleading.
"Fine." Spy slunk into the room like a man off to execution. He knew he'd never hear the end of it if he didn't stay.
Scout slipped back off the bed, patting the covers and looking to Spy. The older man obeyed, careful not to sit on Cy Young's baseball card. Scout had toddled over to his bookshelf, grabbed a heavy photo album, and lugged it back over Spy with many a wobbling step. "Story!"
"That…is not a story."
His observation went unheard as Scout boosted the album onto Spy's lap, and then crawled up onto the bed to rest beside his babysitter. Scout took the liberty of leaning over and opening the cover.
The picture on the first page was that of a middle-aged woman who looked extremely good for her age. She was surrounded on all sides by rambunctious boys. Boys, Spy noted, who to the last had inherited her wiry frame and high cheekbones.
Standing behind the seated woman was a tall boy in a sports jackets and thick glasses. His serious expression was ruined by the boy with slicked-back hair leaning against his shoulder, giving the camera the kind of smile where the viewer just knew he was a smartass. A third, mousy-looking boy stood to their side with a shy smile. His hair stuck up at the back, much in the way Scout's did. Four younger boys were scattered on the floor. Another in glasses, one flexing his muscles, one sticking his tongue out at the camera and the last not even looking at the camera, his expression dreamy and far-away.
And the last, littlest boy sat in his mother's lap, looking up at her with complete adoration.
"Mama," Scout whispered, tracing a finger down the photo.
Curious despite himself, Spy eased the picture out of its protective film. The back read:
The Collins Boys, 1950. Daniel, Charles, Sean, Mack, Liam, Ian, Billy and Scout.
The handwriting was feminine, each name written in careful, loving cursive. Spy studied it a moment longer before he felt Scout growing restless next to him. He tucked the picture back, trying to ignore the painful lump in the back of his throat. He swallowed hard, and suddenly the lump was full of glass, shredding his throat raw.
The album was chock-full of Scout's brothers—Danny posing with a medal, Charlie with a girl, Sean showing off his new bike, Mack and Liam in the midst of an argument, Charlie with another girl, Billy feeding pigeons at the park, Scout with his very first baseball bat, Charlie with a different girl…
Spy took in the pictures with an eagerness that might have been embarrassing in any other situation. However, there was something missing from this family album and it didn't take Spy long to figure out what. "Scout, where is your papa?"
Scout puffed out his cheeks as he thought. He flipped through a couple thick pages before he found the page he was looking for. He pointed to the picture, looking up at Spy with a quizzical expression. "Papa?"
It was a picture of his mother laughing with an old man, his hair gray and mustache thick.
Spy shook his head. "No, erm…your daddy, Scout. Where is your daddy?"
"Dunno." Scout sighed. He opened the album up to the very back.
The last picture in the book had been torn to shreds by a woman's angry hand, and then messily taped back together with a young boy's desperation. It was handsome, strapping man sitting in a garden with Scout's mother. He was whispering something in her ear, something that must have been naughty because she had been caught between laughing and blushing when the picture was shot. Something about the man's cocky demeanor seemed very familiar, and the dog tags swinging from his neck did too.
Spy glanced towards Scout. The little boy was drinking in the picture as though it might disappear if he wasn't careful. A few small tears trickled down his cheeks. "Daddy." He whispered.
Had the little boy bothered to look up, he would have seen a look of stricken empathy on Spy's face. Spy shifted in order to wrap a hand around Scout's thin shoulder. When he spoke his tone was sorrowful and understanding: "You know, petit, Lawrence might not get along with his papa so well…but at least 'e 'as one."
Scout looked up to Spy with a furrowed brow. "Spoi mama?"
"She died some years ago."
"Go Heaven?" Scout pointed upwards, eyes shining with hope.
"I certainly 'ope so." Spy admitted.
Scout was quiet for a moment. "Spoi daddy?"
Spy scoffed and shrugged a bit. "I do not know what 'appened to my daddy either, petit." He had taken to stroking Scout's hair absentmindedly. "I doubt I ever will. And now I think it's time to sleep."
"'kay." Scout snuggled up to Spy. He didn't ask for stories or songs. All he asked for, in a yawn, was that Spy stay a bit longer.
Spy smiled down at the boy. "Of course. Fais de beaux rêves, petit."
Scout smiled back. Little by little, his breathing eased, his eyes fluttered shut, and he sank into a deep sleep, soothed by Spy's rhythmic stroking. Spy gave the little boy the softest of smiles before settling back.
He stared off into the darkness and tried not to think of his family, and what his little brothers might have been like if they'd been allowed to grow up. A faint, familiar pain burned in his left arm, and Spy swallowed hard, rubbing the phantom pains of a hasty black tattoo.
….
"Where are we gonna put him, doc?"
"Ze Respawn Room? It is impenetrable by nature, he would be safe in zere…"
Engineer took a long gulp of beer as he thought. "But we're always comin' and goin' too. He could slip out without us ever knowing."
Sniper cleared his throat. "How 'bout the infirmary? S'far enough from the action…"
"I vould rather put him your van," Medic growled, "do you know how unsafe it vould be to leave Scout in ze infirmary for too long, by himself?"
The seven members of the RED team were standing in front of Sniper's van. The Aussie had coaxed a fire to life, and now they crowded around it as they argued, safe from any potential hostile ears.
Just a few minutes ago Medic had come running to them, out of breath and glasses askew.
The Administrator had given him her answer about an extended ceasefire.
And that answer had been a firm, resounding no.
Now they were left with the issue of just what to do with Scout come morning.
"We could always—"
"We are not gonna put 'im in the middle o' the action, Sol, so forget 'bout it."
At Demoman's words Soldier deflated. "Just a suggestion. I take it the grease monkey's sacred domain is off-limits to small children?"
"That would be a firm yes." Engineer breathed out. "What are we gonna do?"
For once, nobody had an answer.
….
Faint voices carrying outside caused Spy's ears to prick to attention. He straightened up, wincing at the crick in his back. He peeked out the window, eyes narrowing at the sight of his team standing around a campfire. They were having a team meeting! Without him!
Spy muttered softly under his breath. Slowly, cautiously, he eased Scout off of him and onto the bed. The boy stirred only a little, clutching T.R. and Cy Young closer in his sleep. Spy stood, stretched again, and walked out, shutting the door as quietly as possible.
His footsteps faded off into the distance, and for an instant the entire of the RED base was quiet.
Scout's bedroom door reopened, seemingly of its own accord.
The BLU Spy de-cloaked at the foot of the bed, staring at the sleeping Scout. He had his orders. He knew what to do.
Carefully, quietly, with the skill of a lean predator on the hunt, the BLU Spy scooped Scout up. T.R. fell to the floor, but Cy Young remained firmly in Scout's iron grasp. "Shhh," the BLU whispered as he laid a piece of folded paper down on the bed, "shhh, there, there."
About halfway down the stairs Scout stirred again. He opened one bleary eye at stare at the BLU Spy, who didn't notice his little companion's alertness.
Something was…not right. Scout frowned as he tried to figure it out. This looked like his Spy, even sounded a bit like his Spy as he muttered to himself. But there was something different, something strange.
However, poor little Scout had yet to relearn the critical difference between red and blue, and thus allowed himself to be lulled to sleep in the Spy's arms once more.
Oh my gawd what's gonna happen-wait, why am I asking you? (and si, as far as I'm concerned Scout's real name is Scout. *sunglasses* Deal with it.)
Up next: As you may or may not have noticed, Cerebus Syndrome has been creeping into every chapter. The next makes it official. (look it up, kids!).
Told you you were gonna hate me.
~Chaos