Are you still here? Seriously? Do you know how old this thing is? Y'all are wild.

I don't even know why I'm here anymore.

But hey. Enjoy. The wait was long I bet. So sit back and have some tea, or coffee if that's your thing. You deserve it if you've really come back here. If you're new here, hi. Be aware that this doesn't follow the original TF2 storyline completely at all.

How? Eh, maybe you'll find out.

And, mature themes for a reason kiddos.

Well...She thought nervously. I could tell them the truth? It felt like the best option. God only knows what would happen if they found out she was lying later on. But feeling all the eyes glaring into her wasn't helping her decision making process. She was plenty indecisive on her own without the added pressure.

"What's the matter sheila? You're usually always full of something to say." Sniper smiled contemptuously.

Isn't Sniper supposed to be polite? Was there no one on her side right now? Wait...for some reason Sniper sounded almost like he either hated her guts or just really liked seeing her suffer. She's hoping she's wrong. She's hoping that he's just...aggravated. She might be too if she were in his shoes, probably.

Spy pulled out a cigarette case from his coat pocket, lighting a stick before sighing in slight exasperation at the Sniper's foul disposition. "Let's start simple, Dacey. Can you tell us where we are?"

He probably recognized that threatening her wasn't going to help the situation. That or he was taking pity on her. It could be both. But she was thankful either way. She breathed, mouth parting open a couple times before finally replying. "You're in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Down...Downtown Pittsburgh."

"We aren't in New Mexico anymore then." The Medic's voice sounded behind her, calm and collected, but also slightly bewildered.

"How the hell did ya get us all the way over here?" Scout blurted out the words. They were all honestly surprised he lasted this long.

"I didn't."

She shrunk a bit as the whole team, aside from the still out cold soldier, gave her a mix of disbelieving and angry looks. "What I meant to say is that I didn't know you were all….real."

Before anyone could say a word the Spy had spoken his approval. "I thought so."

"What?" Dacey gave him a surprised look, completely taken off guard. Spy only gave a slightly amused scoff. "I do not think you would willfully dance for us otherwise.

Wait.

Wait what?

Dacey's face slowly turned near undetectable red as she realized what he meant. She muttered a strained, "Oh…" Her expression was one of complete embarrassment, mixed with panic and a smidgen of horror. They were still conscious when they were action figures. They could still see her when they were action figures. Which meant that they saw her when she was...when she...

Oh God they've been watching her for over a week now and they saw her working. Working, meaning making and remixing songs. Meaning, judging by Spy's comment, they saw her dancing around the room like an idiot. Saw her when she was sleeping, eating, or talking to friends. Mierda, she had never felt so violated in all her life. It's not like they even had a choice but...God, she feels so exposed...

Oh fuck they heard her talking about them. Someone just kill her now.

No wait, actually no. She really wants to try this living thing. She really, really does.

Seeing her freeze up seemed to satisfy Sniper. Good. Let her feel vulnerable. He thought to himself, with a sharp look behind his glasses. He was like a falcon, or a vulture that was waiting for the opportunity for a free meal to come. He saw her as prey. No, he saw her as an inconvenience, the source of his ire. She would never even come close to what they had endured, let alone stuck as a bunch of helpless dolls.

He grit his teeth, closing his eyes to withhold the infuriated glare that would've shot straight through his aviators. Yes it was personal, a hatred of being controlled and having every aspect of his short life be predetermined nearly every bloody day. He was sure he wasn't the only one here that felt that way. He was tired of it, but he couldn't do a damned thing about it. She may not have meant for this to happen on purpose. But he didn't care.

"Now that's all well and good. But what I want to know is how you know about us." Engineer spoke up, only slightly mollified at her confession. Heavy nodded, the couch bending under his weight. His eyes bore into hers, searching for fallacies. "Da. I have never met little woman before, yet you know much about all of us."

Now this was going to be much harder to explain. Dacey felt a bit calmer but it didn't take away the danger that was still very present. Still...it's enough. She was seriously on a tightrope now. So, for better or worse she was going to have to get this over with. Dacey's eyebrows scrunched together, stomach twisting in knots. I'll live. I'm going to live through this. It's going to suck but I'll live through this.

Nothing like a few affirmations to get through the day...for hopefully more than a week.

"Alright. That's because I…." She took a pause. "No, actually I can just show you. Just let me get my computer." Her spare one of course. She quite literally couldn't afford to let them break her other computers. She had three set up. One in the middle with the other two at its side. They cost a lot of money and she might actually lose her mind if anything happened to them. She worked her ass off for them and wasn't about to let the mercenaries touch them.

They weren't stopping her, anyway. Spy just gave her a half lidded stare and waved her off. Some of them looked disgruntled but...they weren't doing anything. They know there's no chance of me doing anything. It would be easy for them to kill me. Dacey held back a grimace and walked back to her room. It left a sour taste in her mouth. Medic had slipped past her on the way, going to sit with the others.

She came back carrying her small laptop, which seemed to interest the Engineer quite a bit. Right, they're from the 1960's and 70's aren't they? Maybe she could have passed off this whole mess as a time travel mishap? No,somehow the thought of lying didn't seem like it was a good decision. With her luck, and the fact that she's pretty sure Spy wouldn't be Spy if he couldn't spot a lie or find the truth on his own...yeah she didn't stand a chance.

She had to hold back a shudder. Yeah, that would've been a lot worse. Shaking off her thoughts, Dacey opened the computer on the living room table, trying not to seem nervous as they all crowded around her. Well, it was too late to change her mind now, and she doubted it would do any good to overthink it.

Dacey logged in, watching as her wallpaper of a starry background pulled up. "It's a videogame. Some people actually call it a war simulator." She left out the words hat themed on purpose hoping it would help soften the blow. That, and saying war simulator sounded a lot better than any other way she could have described it to them. It was a little less childish, and sounded just a bit more official. She's hoping to God that it softens the blow. She clicked on the Team Fortress 2 Icon on her screen, praying for the best.

They've been through some wild shit before right? She doubts this is going to be the nail in the coffin.

Their reaction was almost immediate.

"Hey Demoman it's you!" Scout shoved past the Engineer, earning an annoyed 'Watch it boy!' in retaliation. But sure enough standing aside the main menu screen was the Demoman. She shot a quick glance to the side to get a quick gauge on their reception to it so far. Her heart sped up at the gritty scowl the Demoman was sporting, quickly looking back at the screen as sweat lined her forehead. Shit. How anyone could think it was easy to interact with these guys was beyond her. She didn't know what to expect from them and she was neck deep into the lore of the game.

They weren't videogame characters. They were people, with feelings and a wide array of emotion and that was terrifying. Because she didn't even know what to expect from them in the comic series.

They were real, three dimensional people with thoughts, feelings, and a past she wouldn't know about. A past she couldn't know about even if she took the time to shift through every scrap of story she could find on them. Hell, TF2 hadn't been updated in years. There wasn't much else to know aside from what she already did know. That didn't really bide well for her survival, but she was just going to ignore that train of thought for now.

Because the look on Demoman's face made her nervous.

His voice felt almost like an airborne poison. "That is not me laddie…" Scout muttered a nonchalant 'Oh yeah' but anyone could hear the apology in his tone.

She hadn't even thought about it. But the Demoman on the screen was the RED Demoman and the one in her apartment was...BLU. She felt like she had just unwillingly walked onto some kind of minefield. She really had no idea what the difference between RED and BLU was, outside of color. Even the comics didn't shed much light on it. But seeing the obvious animosity meant that she was going to have to tread a lot more carefully, probably.

The usual consensus is that BLU were clones? Or some of them were clones? Or were they all different people somehow some way? Well, in the comics it looked like the BLU Engineer was the actual engineer. But that...this line of thought really wasn't helping. She was just getting more confused.

Note to self, never accept free prizes ever again. Ever. Again. She should have known it was too good to be true. Even more worryingly, there were four other people that got the same deal she did, right?

She decided this would probably be easier if she didn't look any of them in the eye. Dacey would play one game and then...what? Wait for questions maybe? Looking at it from their perspective, if she were in their shoes what would she be thinking right now? She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried not to panic. I'm only making it worse, just...play the game. A couple clicks later, she went to play on training mode to avoid any online gamers. Then she chose control points, location, dust bowl, and lastly she decided on the team and player she wanted to use. She was doing her best, but honestly speaking Dacey was still pretty tense. You know...with the whole not knowing whether she was going to live or die thing. She was functioning on autopilot so she ended up choosing what she always did. She chose to play for the BLU team as the Demoman.

The fucking irony.

Game mode. Just focus on the game.

She could feel the world start to narrow, swept aside by tunnel vision. Again, Dacey wouldn't say she was the best tf2 player. She really wasn't. She was maybe somewhere in the middle if she was lucky enough, and she wasn't terrible. It was a control point mission too, she was better at that than pushing the payload. There had to be a silver lining somewhere in all this.

….

This was just….disturbing. Spy could not say he held the same views as his team did. But he was sure that he couldn't be the only one troubled by this….game. Well, aside from Scout and Pyro. They both were extremely intrigued seeing themselves in action so to speak. Scout was obnoxiously proud of his character, and even chimed in that if she picked him as a player she would be doing better. That caused an argument with Demoman who insisted that if anyone caused the most damage it was him.

He was surrounded by imbeciles…

Though, he would rather have their reaction than the Snipers reaction. Spy kept a careful eye on him, watching his expression contort into something reminiscent of a snarl but not quite. It was gone in an instant. Now he only portrayed a look of mild irritation. But Spy knew him better than that. It would be best to make sure he kept a distance from Dacey. By the looks of things if he didn't outright kill her when they were alone then he was going to maim her. Sniper has very poor impulse control…

At times Spy thought Sniper being this way was to help separate himself from his red counterpart. But now it's become who he actually was. Though Spy would never say it outloud. He had a tentative peace with the bushman. It would be stupid to cause any tension between them for no reason.

Engineer looked as calm as he could be, maybe even intrigued. That was always a bit of a relief to see. Aside from Medic, he seemed to always have a good hold on his composer. The same could be said for Heavy.

In any case, this has gone on long enough. The Spy cleared his throat, already itching for a cigarette. "I think we have all seen what we need to see." Dacey paused, along with the rest of them. Observing her reaction, he noted her reluctance to stop in the tenseness of her shoulders. Perhaps, it had served as a good distraction for her. He would give Dacey her dues for at least keeping her composure. She was not dealing with average men, if she were less careful she might have been dead already.

Spy considered himself a gentleman. He may partake in a relatively pointless war, but it didn't mean he wanted to murder everyone in his path. But if she had proven to be less than savory he would be just as quick to kill, after getting what he needs from her.

"Right...so the game is pretty popular. It's been around for at least a decade and people still play it. People even make uh...art of you guys." She closed the game, only briefly looking them in the eye. "They were giving away five sets of tf2 action figures randomly for people that played the game and I got chosen. I mean, by the creators of the game I think? That's it. I was expecting to just get a set of action figures. I…don't know what's going on."

It feels like it gets harder for her to talk well the more she tries to explain, and she feels like something was lodged in her throat. But all that kind of floats away the moment Scout gets in her personal bubble with hand beneath his chin and the most golden retriever type of smile she has ever seen in her life. Scout is not really the type of person she expects that from. Though it kind of gets dampened when he opens his mouth to speak. "You said they made art of me, right? They got me up in some fancy museum I bet. How famous am I?"

Demoman snorted, but she didn't follow what anyone's reaction was to that because Scout pretty much took over the whole flow of conversation.

"Uh-"

"Wait, don't tell me. I want to be surprised. I need to get out of here and find out for myself. I've been stuck in here for way too long!"

"Wait. Wait wait wait." She feels like she nearly has a heart attack. She waves her hands. "Okay, everything, everything else aside I'm pretty sure you don't know what it's like out there-"

"Listen toots, you've got no idea where I'm from. I'm pretty sure I can handle-"

"It's 2020. The year is 2020. This year is the year 2020." She quickly cuts him off. The rest of the room halts a bit. Spy himself seemed to be especially affected by hearing what year it was. Scout sputters for half a second or so before going to the window to actually look outside. Granted it wasn't flying cars like in the Jetsons or anything. But it was noticeably different than what they might be familiar with.

Engineer seemed more than a little interested in how technology advanced, and so did Scout to a point. Pyro didn't seem to care much at all about the situation. She could hear muffled humming as they smushed their face against the window. But the others? She can't read what they're thinking at all. "We're stuck here, not knowin' how we got here, not knowing how we're gettin' back. Then to top it off we're decades into the future? I need a drink." Demoman grunts, looking over at her. "Don't suppose you have anything on ya lass?"

"...sorry…" There was a definite sheepish tone to her voice. He looked disappointed but accepting of her answer. She was completely stone sober, didn't drink a single drop of alcohol. She was going to have to get some very soon if Demoman was going to have some semblance of normalcy.

This was a problem. Medic was frowning, a gloved hand beneath his chin. Sniper had his arms over his chest, looking out the window as if he was searching for something. Spy speaks up, ignoring how the still knocked out Soldier. "Well gentlemen, seems we're going to have to take what we can get for now. I'm the most equipped to go and gather information on our surroundings...Dacey, would you be willing to assist us?"

That was a test. That wasn't a question no matter how gently he asked it. She didn't have a choice.

"Definitely." She nods, and the brunt of the situation settled on her shoulders. There's no way she could support them all. She didn't have enough space. She didn't have enough money. Spy would probably be the most understanding of the situation they were in while being somewhat willing to work with her. More importantly, there was no question that he had the best chance of blending in and getting what he needed done. "There's a lot...I need to tell you if you want to go out. But I'll do as much as I possibly can. But none of you can go out right now. Not with a pandemic going on."

"A what?" Scout asks, not completely sure what it was, but he didn't like the sound of it. Engineer was pinching the bridge of his knows and determinedly saying nothing.

"A pandemic…" Medic raises both eyebrows, morbidly curious.

So, she begins the tenuous tale of what was the single worst year of the current generation. The pandemic, the protests, everything as simply and concisely as she could while also trying to give them a rundown on what's changed over time. She was extremely hesitant to give up her computer, but there were a lot of things that were better he researched himself rather than listen to her talk about them. So...she deleted her search history, and made sure none of her personal information was on it. She made it clear that there was misinformation on the internet. So he might need to check multiple sources. But her concerns didn't mean much to Spy who merely brushed her warnings aside.

"There is always misinformation in the world, petite dame. I'm more than capable of finding the truth for myself."

She left him to it. Well, she left them to it. Spy, Engineer, and Medic all seemed to be on a similar wavelength. She can't help but feel like she wasn't dealing with TF2 in the way she expected. What was the difference between RED and BLU? She's on the phone, ordering at least three large Pizzas and inwardly weeping over the expenses. She's on autopilot, and awkwardly playing the role of what felt like a mixture of babysitter and warden of a prison. She wanted to leave, but could she trust them alone in her apartment?

Ugh…

"Not doing so hot are ye?"

She jumps a bit, turning a bit to see it was only Demoman. He looks a bit curious. Better than Sniper at least. He may have stopped openly glaring at her but she feels like Sniper just overall did not like her at all. "Yeah, I mean..a little unexpected I guess?" She tries to laugh, but ultimately decides it would be too forced. "Sorry again by the way. I know you'd definitely want a bottle of scrumpy by now. When I can get you guys out for a bit I'll see if I can get you some alcohol that's at least a somewhat decent replacement."

"Ahah, you ought to be worried more about yourself hen. You know what we're capable of, aye?" He grinned a bit. "Am glad you're thinking of me though. Don't have too many pretty lasses think of me back home."

She swallowed reflexively. Ah. Right. Wow. She suddenly can't really think-olay no. No she was fine. She was fine. Fuck. He wasn't-she doesn't know how to deal with flirting! No, he wasn't flirting. She was wrong. She was definitely wrong. It was a compliment?

She didn't know how to take compliments either. Fuck.

If Demoman saw how flustered his comment made her he wasn't saying anything. But there was a twinkle in the eye of the demolition expert as he watched her fumble around with the phone while taking a minute too long to respond.

"Least I can do you know? I mean it's pretty bad on me. But you guys don't even have anywhere else to go. That sucks. Especially since you appeared in the worst year possible." She grimaced.

"Aye...but you're handling things well enough!" He claps a hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry, we'll figure it out. Between you and I, I think we can sort out those special abilities you've got. You might not know it lassie, but you've got magic in your blood." He whispers that last part low, like a secret. She scrunches her eyebrows, not sure if she was hearing him right before Spy called him over to the living room area.

…what even?

Well. She wasn't dead yet. But she was definitely not out of the woods. She glances towards the couch, and immediately looks away when she spots Sniper's head turned in her general direction.

Well on the brightside the pizza should be here in thirty minutes. People were usually more willing to be kinder on a full stomach.

"Miss Dacey, if you would be so kind as to join us…"

She would hold the urge to scream until she could do it in the safety of her room, into her pillow.

Abracadabra?