A/N: Talking! Plot! Drama! I... really crawled through this one, but here we go. Main plots are so much fun.
That sound you hear? That's the sound of the canon-verse SHATTERING.

Soldier stood up so quickly that the chair he'd been sitting in fell backwards with a thud! The sudden shattering of silence left everyone with hot skin as our hearts hammered away in our chests. Scooping up his shotgun from the floor, he cocked it before pointing it at the Announcer. "What the hell are you doing here?" He barked; anxiety flowed into his voice.
The Announcer took a step back, momentarily startled as well. She quickly regained her footing and narrowed her eyes once more. "Weapons away," she snapped back, giving Soldier a clear, irritated look. "You'll never get anywhere in life if you point a gun at everyone you meet."
He slowly lowered his gun, but kept it in hand. "You are preaching to the choir, pumpkin."
She shook her head. "I'm starting to think that hiring a bunch of random people and giving them weapons of destruction was a bad idea."
"Startin' to?" I asked, smirking for a brief second. "Answer the question."

The Announcer put a hand to her forehead dramatically. "Oh, where are the manners anymore?" But before I could add in a snarky 'Please', she had taken a seat, motioning for everyone to do the same. Her eyes wandered around the room, flicking to all the different faces before she spoke again. "I suppose I should give credit where it is due; good call on the hiding spot. I had a hell of a time trying to find you." She crossed her legs under the table and clasped her hands on her knee, back straight. "A bit curious how you're planning on living here, though. There's no running water or electricity."
"We're not gonna live out here," Engineer said, his face unusually hard as he regarded the new addition to our already crowded household. "It's temporary."
"Besides, there's an outhouse a few houses down," Pyro added, kind of sheepishly.
Her eyes clicked back over to him, disgust rippling over her features. "Really." Clearing her throat, she broke her posture to prop an elbow on the table. "What are you planning to do? If you go anywhere - if you talk to anyone about what has happened out here…" She left the threat hang in open air. "Not to mention that both your companies are more than prepared to make a few little phone calls expressing condolences for your families' losses. You'll be ghosts."
"Fuck that shit!" the RED Scout blurted, leaning forward from his spot on an abandoned couch. "They can't do that!"
"Yes," The Announcer assured the other with a sharp look and tone to match. "They can. I doubt any of you have full knowledge of what their grasp on the world is," she said with a casual shrug as if she was a normal person asking if we wanted coffee.
"What's that supposed to mean?" The RED Sniper leaned against the wall, regarding her with cool eyes. He didn't seem particularly bothered, and his mouth quirked as though he was waiting for the punch line of a joke.
The Announcer paused before leaning even farther forward, her dominant presence faltering. "I'll be completely honest with you here: I'm breaking protocol right now. If they found out what I was doing here, I'd be taken to the nearest dump site and executed." Her voice had quieted, and we all strained our ears to listen. She sounded as if she was waiting to spill a terrible secret. The words played on her tongue before she formed another sentence. "Contrary to what you might believe, I am not the enemy here."
The RED Pyro snorted incredulously, her expression still a bit unsure. "Says the chick who yelled at us all the time to kill one another."
"I'll give you that one." The Announcer smiled drily before she uncrossed her legs, shifted, and crossed them again in the opposite direction. Her voice didn't get much louder, but the seriousness of her voice almost made me want to believe her. "With that warning in place, I suppose I should be brief: the companies that contracted you all have a certain way of doing things; usually, conflicts can be solved with a little paperwork and a meeting. But the leaders of the companies... well, they're brothers."
"...Brothers?" Soldier echoed, hand resting on his helmet on the table.
"Yes; Redmond and Blutarch Mann. Both extremely old; both extremely bitter." The Announcer paused to take out and light a black, new-looking cigarette holder, that glinted in the limited light. "So, if problems aren't solved passively, they have no qualms about starting miniature wars."
"Well, if they fight so much, why don't they just wipe each other out?" The RED Engineer asked, wringing the denim of his overalls in his hands.
The Announcer grinned; her mouth had too many teeth, all as white as the tip of the holder that held her cigarette. "That's where it gets interesting. They can't wipe each other out, because if one company fails, it would be the end."
There was a pause. "...the end of what?" The RED Spy finally asked. I thought how odd it was for a Spy to be asking questions – to be unsure.
"Everything. Reliable Excavation and Demolition and Builders League United were originally owned by Zephaniah Mann; decades ago, he tried making his fortune out here," she gestured to the desert plains of the country outside the window. "Not only did he control those companies, but another, third business - Mann Co. Before he died, he stated that his sons get the two former, and that Mann Co. would be taken over by the Australian Hale family." In the corner of my eye, I could see Sniper frowning, turning his face at the floor. "Zephaniah was a powerful man, one of the richest in the world. But as his companies increased in efficiency, he started dealing in dangerous craft: weapons.
"As he went deeper into dark territory, he started shutting out the company to the public, until eventually, everyone just forgot about him. He was always more of a loner anyway," she added, looking away for a quick second. "But just because the common people forgot didn't mean that the companies went away. In every war, there have always been two sides, both thinking that the other was wrong." She paused in her story to flick ashes off from her cigarette. "People say it could happen; companies becoming so powerful that they eventually take over the government..." She let another smile creep onto her lips, baring her gums to all of us. "…What they don't know is that it's already happened."
"W-wait jes' a dang minute here," Engineer stuttered, eyes wide. "Yer sayin' that our governments are really just two companies led by rival brothers?"
"Well... no. They've become so engrossed in their feud that they've neglected their actual duties. For the good of both companies; RED and BLU are both led by one person: the Director."

Everyone was silent again. "So... one guy runs the entire world." I said, completely flustered. My eyes didn't leave the Announcer – not even to blink. I could feel the smallest of tremors shake my fingers.
"Yes. Unbelievable, isn't it? Unfortunately, this Director fellow isn't exactly the greatest role model." She blew out a cloud of smoke. "Whoever he is, he's done a good job at covering his tracks. Ever since he's taken over... well, things haven't been as efficient as they were before. I tried to do some research, but I couldn't find any records on him, at all. I hate to tell you, but the war you were fighting was pointless." Soldier rested his chin on a hand and shook his head, muttering to himself as the Announcer's expression turned into one of regretful disgust. "As you've probably guessed, it's a game now. The Director has seemed to take a liking to playing God and making people kill each other for his amusement, adding rules and penalties, creating a reality show out of what should have been a last resort."
"That fucker," I growled, clenching my fists, out of anger, and out of an effort to make the trembling stop. Demoman put his hand on my shoulder, a grimace on his face.
"I don't like it any more than you do. My assistant and I have been stuck behind a microphone and a wall of cameras, having to watch everything." She sighed, tucking black hair behind her ear. "My job used to be more important than watching you all kill each other over a suitcase."
"Zees needs to stop. Now," Spy said, his words so uncharacteristically bitter that I had to look up to make sure that they had come from him.
"Agreed," the RED Demoman chipped in, stepping forward. "I say we go'n teach tha' Directoor a lessin!"
The Announcer smirked, satisfaction clear in the twist of her lips. "I thought you might say that." Standing up, she looked out the window. "Well, I need to be getting back; they've been getting suspicious since you figured this conspiracy out. I'm glad I could fill in the missing pieces." Taking a step away from the table, she brushed off her suit. "You may want to keep an eye on the roads; the Director will probably send others to check this area out." As she headed for the door, she paused and gave us a look over her shoulder. "And, uh, Mann Co. employees get drunk and drive around out here sometimes. If you see any ammo or ration boxes, let me know, will you?" She winked and, with the clicking of heels, was gone.

"They would get drunk," Sniper muttered darkly under his breath, breaking the silence.
"So, she's on our side?" The RED Scout asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Huh."
"Looks like it. I hate to admit it, but you can never have too many allies," Soldier said, giving a pointed look to the younger man. He clapped his hands in a moment of decision. "Alright. We're burning daylight; let's get our supplies and look for places to camp; there's no way seventeen people can fit in one house."
"What other food've ya got?" I asked the RED Medic, feeling my stomach grumble demandingly. "An official dinner might help."
"I'll see if we don't have anything that isn't too horrible in our collection of freeze-dried things," the RED Sniper said smarmily, giving me a cutting grin before making his way into the kitchen. I watched his back disappear, glaring at the brown vest.
"He's kind of a dick," I decided finally - once he was out of earshot, making Spy laugh.
"He's a professional assassin. A'course he's a dick," the RED Demoman replied, talking louder than me. The RED Sniper poked his head around the corner to glare at the three of us, at which RED Demoman just waved his hand.

My silverware tinked against the metal container I was eating out of. "While we eat, we should plan our next move." Soldier said. "We need to find this Director - and show him that contracting people for his own sick reality show isn't 'Ruler of the World' material," He pushed the empty can he had been eating from out of the way and leaned forward on the table. "But first, we need to figure out where he's at."
We all shifted in our seats, thinking. He could be anywhere, really. "Well…" The RED Scout moved slightly in his chair, thinking out loud. "I mean, he needs to get a live feed of us like The Announcer, right?"
RED Spy shook his head. "Eet doesn't matter. Ze wires could go anywhere in the country; any TV studio could be 'ousing 'im."
"Yeah, but most stations aren't big enough to hold, like, the forty cameras he must have on us. I counted twelve in our base, once; and those were just the ones I could see." I inwardly shuddered, wondering exactly what the Director – or anyone else – saw in the past few months. The RED Scout continued. "Only big companies with a lot of cash flowin' in would be able to get that sort of show set up – and what're the biggest companies we know?"
Soldier gave him a thumbs-up, the most casual gesture that I'd ever seen him give and which made my eyebrows to rise a little; as for the RED Scout, he just leaned back and smirked like he was King of the World. It was a pretty good idea, though. I hastily added, "Yeah – but how're we gonna find RED and BLU Headquarters?" Soldier turned his gaze on me.
"That's what we got to figure out. What are the chances they're around here?" RED Spy looked up at him.
"Ze Announcer mentioned sat both companies started in zees area," all eyes slid to him. "Ees it possible sat the original 'eadquarters are still 'ere?" Soldier grinned and slapped his knee; Spy didn't seem to notice.
"I'll go out tomorrah to look," Sniper offered, a disconcerted look still on his face. "Can't be too far out."
Soldier nodded. "Alright. Scout, Spy, you two can go with him," Soldier said, jabbing his thumb to the Australian while looking at the two of us. "Sound good?"
"Yep."
"Ouias."

As soon as I saw the RED Spy slip out the front door, I followed. He obviously didn't expect it, because he nearly choked on the smoke from his cigarette when I bluntly asked, "You know my ma?"
I watched him cough and sputter for a few seconds. "I 'ave no idea 'ow you could 'ave figured sat out," he replied sarcastically, smiling for a second before sitting down on the front stairs. I sat next to him, but before I could ask, he spoke again. "I guess we don't 'ave to worry about confidentiality anymore."
"Guess not."
Taking another long drag, he stared at the white stick in between his fingers, looked at me, and crushed the flame against the step beside him before tossing it into the lawn, which was starting to become overgrown. He blew out the leftover smoke in a long sigh. "Alright. Let me start from zee beginning. Eet was... twenty-one years ago. I was sent to America for a vacation of sorts."
"Of sorts?"
"In my line of work, vacation is a relative term. Sere are no promises sat eet will last." Stretching his legs out in front of him, he stared at the ground with a fond, reminiscing expression on his face. "I met your muzzer after she ran into me and spilled her drink on my suit. No offense to 'er, but she can be a real klutz sometimes." Now, I love my mom, but I couldn't help but snicker in agreement. "We 'ad a few drinks, agreed to meet up every now and sen while I was sere; just casual, friendly banter."
"Make a long story short?" I said after a minute of silence.
"Alright. I slept wizz 'er," he said plainly, staring out into the lawn.

I felt my heart stop. "Wh-what?" I asked weakly.
"You 'eard right; we 'ad an affair."
"You…you fucked my ma?" I asked, slack-jawed and feeling strangely empty. It never even came into my head that my Mom would… it never seemed like she would do something like that, like she was the star in one of her trashy afternoon soaps she loved so much.
The RED Spy squirmed slightly under my stare. It made me almost feel good, to see him like that. "I believe we've made sat clear. But... sat ees not even se 'alf of eet." Sighing, he adjusted, scooting a little closer to me. "I lost 'er phone number after I went back to France."
"What, you want it from me?" If the whole reason for talking to me - way back when we all still thought we should have been fighting each other – was just to get back in contact with my Ma, it seemed a little extravagant. I probably could've gone my whole life without knowing how far their relationship went. My eyebrows seemed to stick to their furrowed state at the idea, framing an angry glare.
"Let me finish," he snapped back, causing me to retract in surprise. He sounded so hurt, so distressed, that my temporary anger immediately disintegrated. "Bryan, when I finally found it and called 'er, she told me somezeeing; somezeeng... I never could 'ave prepared for." Hesitating, he reached for his cigarette case, but clenched his fist and put it on his knee.
It felt like I was standing in front of an open oven, my whole body rushed in an uncomfortable heat; but I could feel the goose bumps on my skin, and a stone made of ice sitting in my gut. I made myself ask; I had to. "What did she tell you?" My voice came out in a strained whisper.
"Well... Bryan, before I tell you zees," he started, swallowing before continuing, haltingly and carefully, "You should know sat your muzzer never planned what 'appened."
"I... assumed that." The pit grew, and I could feel dots of sweat at the nape of my neck, but I stood my ground and kept my gaze pointed at him. "What happened?"
He stared at me for a good while, gnawing on his lower lip. Seeing him so insecure scared me more than I like to admit; I was used to nothing but professionalism from anyone wearing a suit twenty-four seven. "I, ah... you 'ave your muzzer's eyes."
Blinking at the random change of topic, I just shrugged, "Yeah, I get told all the time that I look more like her than… Dad."

And that's when it hit me like a freight train.

I've seen the family picture, and everyone that looked at it always said that I always looked different than my brothers. Looking closer, I eventually saw it, too; how I lacked the distinctive chin of my father, how my eyes held just a hint of gray. "B-but that doesn't..."
"Yes it does."
We stared at each other, and rage suddenly flashed through my brain. Part of me just wanted to sock him; I almost did, actually, but he took the fist I had made and pulled me into a gentle, wary hug. I used every single curse I could think of, half-screaming them into his jacket and when all he said was, "Watch your language," I grabbed his shoulder and clung to him, digging my fingers in like claws.
"Y-you're not... you're not..." I repeated, trying not to give into beating my fists against his back. "Y-you can't be."
"I'm sorry," was all he said.
After a minute, I pushed myself away. He didn't fight, or look surprised, and he didn't trail me when I stormed off and around the side of the house. I could feel every raw emotion slugging through my brain, leaving me unsure of what to do with it before I settled on the default. I looked at the bandages wrapped around my hands and punched a nearby shingle as hard as I could. And then I did it again, and again, and again, hitting it until the faintest tinge of red could be seen on the eggshell-white slab of wood in whatever fading light was left. I was left shaking with rage, or shock, or something. I stood there for a good ten minutes; it felt like I was chewing my pulse up between my teeth.
I heard footsteps approaching, and then there was silence. I could recognize the shoes, and the person wearing them, leaving me wishing that someone else had found me. "I know it's 'ard to believe," he started uncertainly.
"Say it."
"Quoi?"
I turned to him, eyes hard as I enunciated, "Say. It." My fists twitched again, the strained fingers not deterring me from clenching the bunched up hands.
Another moment of silence.
He sighed, and took a step forward. "I... I got your muzzer pregnant." There was another step. "And..." He lifted his arms slightly, his skinny body bending his shoulders awkwardly, his mouth a black 'o' but no words came out.
I finished it for him. "You got her pregnant with me," I clarified. The words felt strange coming from me, and they left a somewhat foul taste in my mouth. "You're my... my dad." We just stared at each other before I laughed; broken and maniacal; my neck making a quiet snapping sound as I abruptly threw it over my shoulders. I didn't care about everyone finding us – I didn't care about the Men in Black, or the Director; I couldn't care about anyone at the moment except me. "Well, this day's just gettin' better and better!" Grinning so wide my cheeks hurt, I started pacing. "So, we're kicked outta our home... forced ta walk halfway across the desert..." I started ticking off everything on my red fingers. "-Thrown inta some kinda sci-fi plot where one guy's in charge'a the whole world, AND!" I held up a finger to emphasize the point; this one was important. "And you're actually my dad!" Laughing again, it quickly turned into a growl, then a scream as I kicked the house. My foot would swell tomorrow, I was certain, and the pain only fueled my rage.
I let my body fall; onto the wide-bladed weed grass against the dirty house. My arms and legs crumpled and I sank myself into a ball; head in hands, resting between my legs. Plane crash position, abort, abort, abort.
He was quick to slink to the ground beside me and hug me again, resting his chin on the top of my head. His hands shook against my arms, and I could taste that last cigarette on his breath. It made me want to cough, but I resisted, giving out a strangled, stuttering "Hey," instead. I even managed to choke out a "Dad?" a few seconds after, between my dry sobs.
"...Oui?" I couldn't breathe enough – and every second felt like I was drowning; but a calmness settled over me; one that didn't come from punching, kicking, yelling, or even running.
"Y-ya should teach me F-French... help me p-pick up g-girls."
He let a relieved laugh ring out, and I joined him through imaginary tears.

Raise your hand if you saw the thing with the RED Spy coming.