It was a spiral of black when Sniper regained consciousness. A tunnel rising up and up into a blackness so deep it was like he hadn't opened his eyes at all. In fact, the only way he knew it was above was that he was lying flat against something freezing cold.
Dark. There was nothing but dark . He was blind once more. His pulse began to thunder against his skin as he made to sit up. But when he moved, it was as if his head was filled with water. It pounded and felt heavy. Too heavy. Sniper gave up on trying to sit up, and groaned in pain.
Then he heard something. To his left, in the dark. Or, or was it his right? Behind? He couldn't make out the words, but it was quiet. Little hissing noises coming from everywhere and spiraling around. And dripping noises in there with him. Them. Who was the other person?
Something cold but feverishly warm brushed his hand, and Sniper yanked his hand away. He couldn't see, could barely hear, and there was something with him. It tried to grab him again, but he swiped at the dark. That made the world spin even more, and the noises coming from somewhere quickened, got louder. It honestly felt like his brain had been liquidized. And Sniper couldn't do anything when his wrist was grabbed.
"E, t me." Sounds, hushed, hissing. Too close. Sniper swiped again, trying to get loose. That only made things worse. A horrible rush of uneasy warmth began to build in the back of his head. It prickled and when the feverish cool let go, he fell limp as the spinning wouldn't stop. Hopeless. Escape was hopeless in his state. Cold, spinning, spiraling warmth building and building.
"Me, it's me, dude!" A voice shot through the spirals when Sniper collapsed to the ground again. Speaking to him, someone, or not that someone. He opened his mouth to talk, but the thought of talking made the world, what little of it he could make out, flicker. Limbs were too heavy, and that prickling, needling warmth was still there, stagnant. Sniper couldn't hold back the growl when that sound maker touched him again. But this time it held, enclosing on his hand, pulling it up into the dark.
Sniper's hand was pressed against something warm. Not the heat in himself but an ebbing constant. He let his hand get guided along until it stopped under what felt like a slope. And a beat. Faintly beneath his fingers, Sniper felt a heartbeat, and let go of the breath he didn't realize he was holding.
"See, it's me." Scout said quietly. The kid was alive, he himself was alive. Sniper sat up.
And immediately turned over and threw up. Somewhere next to him Scout spoke in shock, but it was muffled with ringing and that awful ebbing his head began to do. Back and forth, thumping painfully, making everything spin and flood his system with nausea. At least his companion had the good sense of gripping his arm to keep him from falling forwards.
Once Sniper was left with nothing left to regurgitate, and after several dry heaves, finally, finally, the warmth faded away and the darkness stopped spinning quite so much. But the warmth took with it his sense of balance, apparently, because when Scout helped him straighten up, Sniper instantly began to sway again. A steady grip on his upper arm kept him from dropping.
"Whot happened?" He rasped, looking presumably at Scout.
"We, uh, we fell. Down da hole-tunnel thing, after you shot it. Dat was pretty cool actually, da way you one-handed your rifle and BAM!" The sudden volume sent the painful thumping shooting through Sniper's skull, and his flinch earned an instant apology from the runner.
"Aw crap, sorry, but it was really cool. Straight outta an action flick, y'know? Course, we still fell but, hey, we're alive."
"How'd we survive?" Sniper mumbled, tongue heavy with dizziness, "it was a straight drop, wasn't it?"
"Those web things. Built up like a canopy and broke most of da fall at da end. We're kinda covered in them." At that, Sniper felt around his torso and yeah, there were little ridges that were cool to the touch.
"But it's pitch bloody…" He trailed off, letting his head hang. An uneasy silence.
"Uh, "pitch black"?" Scout finished. Sniper made to nod but stopped when that tidal wave feeling came back up. "It actually ain't. Ya just have a… well," Through the dark Sniper could feel Scout grow tense. Then, something started to lift from his head, loosening.
"You weren't wakin' up," Scout began, his voice restrained, "I woke up and you were here, just layin' still and all, and dat puddle was just really big and. Well, look man, you hit your head. You hit your head bad. Like, really bad. And ya wouldn't stop bleedin' and da Medigun wasn't workin' so-"
"It's broken," Sniper said, the world turning from deep black to a deep grey with hints of colors and shapes, "we found it like that, busted. Got into a fight about leaving it or not, about trying to fix it."
"Yeah, well, wish ya woulda told me dat before you were lyin' there bleedin' out like an idiot. I spent a good five minutes tryin' ta get it workin' while you just laid there usin' one a my shirts as a gauze."
"It's not exactly easy… telling someone something when you're passed out on the ground, mate." And finally, the final wrapping fell away, and Sniper blinked at the sight.
It was still really bloody dark. Stalactites hung, drenched in shadow. And the walls were rugged with stone outcroppings jutting into the open air. But there was some light. The faint pale light from the small webs wrapped around his clothes. And in the distance was a blue beam from his Machina. In front of him knelt Scout. The weak light and harsh shadows made the younger man's face ghastly. Cheekbones seemed to jut out too far, his eyes reflected too much of the glow, and those raging ocean blues were sunken, hidden mostly by darkness. Though there was no hiding the nervousness in them.
"Well, yeah but… I didn't know how many ta use, and I don't think they helped heal any brain damage ya might have gotten. Cause a what just happened, not injured people don't just puke like dat." Scout said, plopping Sniper's hat on the marksman's head.
"Everything keeps spinning." Sniper admitted, letting his head hang once more. Letting his eyes move too much kept making him sway. "And how many of whot?"
"Uh, m-medkits." Scout mumbled. At that, Sniper raised his head to meet Scout's eyes.
"How many did you use?" The runner mumbled a number. A good or bad number though, Sniper couldn't remember. He knew for a second, but there was a lot around them. And the thought was gone before it stuck.
The floor was freezing. Everything was freezing. Sniper tried to stand, much to Scout's dismay.
"Da h*ll are you doin', ya hafta rest, dat's what ya need when your head gets a rock at sonic speed!"
"And whot about it ?" Sniper grumbled. He got to his feet and the ground felt like it was a thick sludge beneath them. The ground was also coming to meet him at a speed. How alarming.
"Whoa!" Scout managed to sputter when the marksman's limp form fell to meet him. "Holy crap, dude, ya can't walk like this!"
"Can't stay… either." He mumbled, pushing himself up using the runner's shoulders.
"Dude, Snipah, c'mon, it hasn't followed us. You coatin' it in water made it run away."
"There's got to be something, along the walls. A crevice, or a pocket." Scout didn't respond, just looking at Sniper, like trying to find something. But he finally nodded after looking away.
"Yeah, alright. Just lemme get everythin'. Don't freakin' move," he ordered as he tightened his grip on Sniper's arm before letting go. "Next thing ya know you fall again and actually die. Or have a stroke or somethin'." As Scout limped around and grabbed their bags and other items scattered about, Sniper focused on staying upright.
So he had cracked his skull against the floor. From the height that should have killed him, even with the strings delaying his fall. It was a miracle he was still alive. And what about Scout? He seemed fine, able to mostly walk. A bit, the kid was having some trouble. With, with grabbing things. Looked like he was hurting.
Sniper could ask if he was alright. He cou… maybe, but… the idea of talking just… it was exhausting. Not even processing which words he would use. Needed to lay down, or just… tired, and his eyelids were heavy. A sound slipped from his lips as he stumbled back into the rock wall and slid down.
"Snipah, you good, man?" Came that voice. Somewhere… around here. It was. So hard. To think…
"Hey, hey!" A tip-tapping came close, and a warm pad found itself on his shoulder, lightly shaking him. "Hey, you're not actually havin' a stroke, are you?" He should respond with, a no or… but… "Blink once for yeah, blink twice for no." That he could do. Sniper blinked twice, and he heard Scout sigh in relief.
"Okay, yeah dat's, dat's good ta know. Now c'mon, Mick," the hand on his shoulder snaked down to his arm and tugged, "dat can't be comfortable, let's get ya somewhere better." Sniper allowed himself to be pulled into a stand, and Scout only made a slightly pained noise when the marksman leaned into him.
"Ya think you can carry your bag?" Sniper tried to shrug, which only resulted in him slipping down some. "Hey, I can't carry everythin' along with your gangly *ss, pull some weight dude, I'm da one who had ta stay awake ta make sure you didn't die in your sleep!"
Bag, right, his backpack. His rifle too, needed that. Shouldn't he say something here? The right thin…g to do, wasn't it? Sniper straightened up. Tried to, at least, to take one of backpacks off Scout's shoulders. He managed to grab a strap, although his hand wouldn't keep still.
"Hey," Sniper's companion took his quivering hand with his own, and took it off the backpack, "Let's just focus on gettin' somewhere safer than here, okay? I'll come back for this stuff later." Good plan. Sniper nodded, and immediately winced from the throbbing that erupted from his head.
Scout said more things, although the marksman couldn't make out a word. Time was a fickle b… a… they were walking now. Limping, but moving into the dark. Away from those pale strings, he noticed. And the backpacks were missing from Scout's shoulders, laying back there.
"And- Oh wait, crap, gotta getta flashlight." Scout wriggled out from under Sniper's arm and back towards the bags, leaving the marksman to stand in the dark.
He didn't mind the dark. In fact, being away from the lights, even with some of those lights wrapped around his torso, felt nice. His eyes didn't hurt quite as much when he looked around. His head's pounding seemed to die down somewhat. Thinking was getting less tiring. Standing still seemed to be an issue, because Sniper caught himself leaning far too much to the left a bit too late to catch himself.
Stumbling to regain his balance, Sniper, instead of falling to the floor, collided with the closest rock wall. Now there was thumping in his shoulder and skull. Brilliant. Just bloody brilliant. Behind him he heard Scout say something, but he wasn't paying attention to that. Fingers tracing the ice cold stone, Sniper looked around.
Stone, encased in it. They were deep, deep beneath the earth now. Hundreds of thousands of tons of rock and sediment lay above him. There was no telling whether or not the tunnel he was in would hold for long, how old it was, and if it was strong enough to handle anything more than what it already held. Sniper's heart began to beat a bit harder than before, and that made his head once again start to beat too. Groaning out what could have been a curse, Sniper rested his head against the frost-like wall, like the cold would be enough to distract himself from those ridiculous thoughts.
"Okay, uh, hm," A voice from behind. "Uh, Snipah, you good?"
"'M fine." He replied, pushing himself up and away from the stone, "we need to find a way out."
"When I don't have ta keep an eye on ya ta make sure you don't fall again, sure. Till then, nada pally." His arm was grabbed. Again. And Sniper felt something be put in his hand. "Also you're gonna hold this so I can hold you." It was a torch.
And then they were moving again, with Scout taking the lead but still managing to stay right by Sniper's side. The kid's hand was warm, very warm. Downright blazing in the black cold they were travelling through. And beneath the skin, Sniper felt a pulse racing like a greyhound.
"Man, it is… really cold, like, holy s**t." Scout mumbled, to either himself or Sniper, the marksman couldn't tell. "Almost as cold as Boston is in winter. Bet da trees are bloomin' by now, there are all kinds of trees dat blossom in Spring. Like, there's pinks, whites, pinks and whites. Wonder if Henry's sapling ever grew up. Bought a tree first thing after movin' away. He always liked da flowers, liked growin' them too, even though da apartment never got much sunlight. We teased him a lot for likin' da flowers, musta sucked. We did get a lot of moonlight, though. One night, I remember dat Tommy woke me up ta-"
"Scout, need ya to stop talking so loud." Sniper rumbled, eyes to the floor. The runner paused his walk and talk. Then he pulled Sniper up, and suddenly the ground was much further away than it had been.
"Geez, ya really can't stand, can ya?"
"Can walk fine." Sniper glared. He could walk fine, his body was in perfect working order. It was just his brain that was knocked loose. "Don't need your help, focus on yourself. Saw you struggling." He had felt the runner shuffle along, staggering instead of planting firm feet in a fixed pattern. That wasn't happening before the fall, he probably fell wrong on his legs. Not enough to break them, but enough to make walking a chore.
"Dude, you can barely stand let alone talk right! I know head injuries, man. Well, givin' them, not gettin' them but still. Your brain isn't gonna heal right if you don't lie down and let it!"
"You can't carry me." Sniper responded. It was just a fact, Scout couldn't carry Sniper, he was too slim, too scrawny to carry anyone really. He could hardly carry himself let alone someone taller, stronger, heavier-
"I don't gotta carry you, just gotta keep you from fallin'. Now c'mon, Ha-" Sniper felt Scout stutter to a stop before getting pulled up a bit harsher. After a moment of reflection, it might have been that low noise that had flooded the cave. Might have just been the wind. Hopefully.
"Just... let's get goin'."
The tunnel grew louder with the echoes of their footsteps upon the damp stone. The torch's beam was large, but painful to look at. Sniper was forced to stare at the ground in order to keep from developing a migraine. Of course, things couldn't be that easy, as staring at the ground as they walked only made the marksman more nauseous. So, he instead just closed his eyes after a bit. It wasn't like it would do much of a difference at this point. The runner was the one who needed the light anyway.
"Man," Scout groaned, voice raspy, "how long is this thing gonna go for? It ain't even shrinkin' or nothin'!"
"Quiet."
"Sorry, but like, this is freakin' annoyin'."
"It's a… cave system. Or mine. It could go for miles."
"Man, how do you always know so freakin' much about stuff? Stuff dat don't even have anythin' ta do with snipin'?""
"Paid attention in school." With that, they traveled in silence once more. The tunnel, from what Sniper could tell, was descending to the left.
Then the right.
Then they slipped.
"Woah!" Scout gasped as the slope evened out, "didn't even see it! All good?"
"Fine." Sniper said, eyes shut tight. He was hoping to go up. Not slide down so fast. Made his head feel like jelly.
"Ya sure?"
"Ain't stoppin' yet, can go a bit further still." The chill had gotten worse. The further from the sun, from the surface they got, the worse it became. And the black seemed to spin again.
"Woah woah, hey, woah, okay, you need ta rest or somethin'."
"Not here Oi'm not."
"Right, right, crevice, pocket, hole or somethin'. Right, gotcha, a safe, little room ta lie down in, nothin' serious. Course actually layin' on da floor is a no go because holy s**t is dat crap cold! So 'm gonna need ta get our bags once I get ya somewhere. Like a rondeau mission. Wonder why they never wanted me for those, I'm da best at findin' paths, like, literally, it's not my fault da people they want can't keep up. Could just use a motorcycle, those would work fine, but nooo, it's too loud, it'll alert everyone. Bet Engie could make- would've been able ta make a silencer for motorcycles. Bet Miss Pauling loves motorcycles. Brody really likes them too. Managed to buy a really old, beaten one a couple years ago. Spent, like, three whole summers workin' on dat thing, which he could do, cause he's a mechanic. Ain't surprisin', he was always too meatheaded for "degrees" and things like dat. Now it runs super smooth and it's this really cool red color dat kinda shimmers in da sun. He didn't let me ride it alone, though, cause he don't trust me with his crap I guess. It wasn't even his car I crashed dat one time, it was Jamey's. Like, sheesh, ya put a little nic in da bumper of a guy's car one time and all of a sudden you're "a danger to yourself and others" when behind da wheel. Well wait till they find out I drove a freakin' stick shift!" Scout rambled on and on, mostly about his brothers and mother. He touched upon uncles and aunts, cousins, nieces and nephews(who he has quite the horde of apparently). How many? Around 12 at the moment, and another on the way.
"Tellin' ya, Thanksgivin' and Christmas is a freakin' battleground. Like, ya try and get yourself some freakin' ham, right, and then all of a sudden you're surrounded on all sides by tiny humans, and worse of all, they won't leave ya alone until you actually listen ta what they're tryin' ta show you. One's tryin' ta tell you dat he learned how ta tie his shoes, his sister's complainin' dat Shawn pulled her pigtails, Little Daisy apparently threw up on da carpet and no one's noticed yet, Oswald can betch out da ABC's, and lil' Lucy just wants a hug from her favorite uncle. And who am I ta say no ta dat because I'm da best uncle ever, right? So now your arms are filled with Lil' Lady Lucy and her big smelly elephant toy cause she never let's dat thing go which means ya can't get yourself ham which was da one thing you went over ta da kitchen ta get, and ya brothers and sisters-in-law ain't doin' s**t because they love ta watch you suffer cause you're da one guy who either ain't have kids, married, or "dealin' with adult responsibilities" like they were, can you believe dat s**t? I pay bills, I pay taxes, da **** do they mean I ain't got responsibilities like adults do, I'm twenty-****ing-three! I've killed people, I've seen people get killed, what's da difference between dat and actual armed service besides da government? Seriously, they outta treat me with more respect, I'm da one who paid for dat nice house in Fitchburg with da money I earned riskin' my life day after day but no, dat ain't a real, respectable job like a doctor like Davey has. Grand ol' Doctor Davey, da real cream o' da Madigan crop. Like, so what if he went ta dat real fancy school in Europe, we hardly ever see him anyway, left as soon as he turned eighteen, still makin' more than he does a year every month. Actin' like I'm no- Hey look, a hole!" The sudden shift in topic gave Sniper some kind of whiplash. Reeling from the sudden silence, the marksman was pulled into a thin crevice in the wall he hadn't noticed. It was very slim, so much so that they could only go in one at a time. Scout scooted through first, and once he found the coast to be clear, helped Sniper through.
It was a large enough space, just tall enough for Sniper to stand up straight. There were no other exits from the room, and it was completely black. The pair walked into the middle as Scout let Sniper go.
"Alright, I'm grabbin' our stuff, I'll be right back, do not fall." And with that, Scout was gone. And with him went the light, leaving Sniper in complete darkness. A darkness that seemed to seep into his fleece. Oh, right, he was wearing a jacket. One that felt stiff at the collar, and was doing absolutely nothing to keep him warm.
Oh the cold, it was horrible. Just clenching his fingers was a challenge from how stiff they'd gotten. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Sniper gingerly sat down, using the rock wall as a brace. Instantly the stone sapped away the heat in his back. But it was fine this way, it wasn't like it was crushing him. Trapping him in a rubble coffin, choking on dust and particles, unable to move and unable to breathe. Trapped deep, deep below any civilization that would be able to help. Left to wither away in the cold, weighted tomb.
He brought his knees to his chest and rested his head on them. His hands were shaking, and keeping them close to his chest wasn't making them any less cold. It just wasn't getting warmer, it just wasn't.
"Oh ****, you're freakin' freezin' !" A rough shaking ripped Sniper… awake? Was he asleep, or… it didn't feel like it. Didn't close his eyes, but maybe he did. Either way, there was someone in front of him shaking his shoulder. "C'mon, get up, dude!"
"Not yet…" He heard himself say. Why did everything feel so slow? It was all moving faster than his mind could keep up with. At least he wasn't as cold anymore.
Or maybe he was, because a white hot flame pressed itself on his neck. At first it was that hot, but it eased back almost instantly, and Sniper instinctually leaned into the heat, saying something.
"...yeah, you need ta sleep or somethin', this is stupid." The heat was taken away, leaving Sniper alone in the cold. No, no that wasn't good, why is it gone? At that, Sniper finally opened his eyes(so he had closed them).
Scout was back, looking… very, very tired. The torch had been put along the far wall, and it appeared that the entrance had been covered with, maybe their bags, Sniper couldn't tell. There was also something on the floor. It looked soft.
"Leave for, like, nine minutes? Thirteen? Don't care, lost track. Anyway, uh, don't wanna worry you or nothin' but-" Scout interrupted himself with a powerful yawn, which he clamped shut as soon as possible while wiping his mouth off with his hand, "but I think we ain't alone down here."
"Oh that's jus' bloody brilliant," Sniper groaned. He tried to stand, using the wall as a crutch, but exhaustion had built up in his body like frost.
"Well, I think we ain't alone. I didn't actually see it but, I got dat feelin'. So, y'know, we probably should keep an eye out."
"Right, did you find a way out by any chance?"
"I just dragged your *ss and our stuff here, what do you think? Now get up," Scout grabbed Sniper by the collar of his jacket and struggled to pull him up. "You sit there any longer and your *ss'll freeze ta da floor." Together, they managed to get Sniper to his feet, and towards what looked to be a large pile of fabric on the ground.
"Whoi'd you throw a bunch of clothes on the floor?" He asked. Scout rolled his eyes.
"One, so dat we aren't lyin' on da stone, and two, so dat you have some kinda cushion for your stupid head." Scout shambled over to one of their bags and began to rummage through it. The marksman looked down at the makeshift mattress. It wouldn't do much, but it was better than nothing. Sliding down and onto the pile of clothes, Sniper sat and gathered a fistful of the fabric.
"Where'd you get this?"
"My room, duh!" Scout replied, having found whatever he was looking for, "now do you wanna keep wearin' dat blood soaked jacket or what?" It was stiff, and sticky. Like his hair now that Sniper thought about it. No, he didn't want to keep wearing it, so he started to slip it off and was met face-first with a thick scratchiness.
"Oops, didn't meant ta hit your face, but put dat on, it'll probably fit ya better than me." It was a crimson letterman jacket with a bold, black BOSTON sewn on the front. It looked warm. Sniper pushed his soiled fleece away and slipped on the heavy varsity coat before the chill could set in. The inside was soft if not slightly scratchy, and the coldness of the cave was being kept at bay far better than his own coat. And it fit perfectly to boot with only the sleeves going a bit farther than his wrists.
"Yeah, Wesley has longer arms so it won't fit totally perfectly but at least it ain't makin' ya look like a preteen when wearin' it." Scout said as he limped over to the marksman.
"Thanks." He replied as he laid down. Perhaps it was the fact that the past two times he fell unconscious was on unforgiving and solid stone, but the thin layer of fabric and clothes felt like laying on a cloud.
"Uhh, hm." Scout hummed in a "I believe I found a problem" kind of way. 'I uh… I think I made it too small."
"Had smaller."
"No, I mean, uh, I don't think I made enough room for da two a us ta not touch." Oh. Sniper sighed, flipping onto his side.
"Back to back, we'll be fine. Besides, we should try and conserve heat." The runner shifted on his feet.
"Uh, y-you sure, I mean, I can keep watch, ain't even dat tired-" He yawned.
"A few hours won't be a problem, and Oi've had worse." Sniper mumbled. If the kid wanted to stay awake, that was fine by him, no skin off his nose. Shimming deeper into the clothes, the marksman waited for sleep to come. Instead of sleep, however, it was a warm surface pressed against his back. And the click of a torch followed as the cave was engulfed in dark.
"If you start complainin' about this, I'm gonna give show you what real blunt force trauma feels like." Sniper heard Scout say behind him as the runner shimmied into the pile.
"If you keep moving around Oi'll rip your teeth out."
"...You're bluffin'."
"Oi've done it with crocs, humans would probably be easier to be honest. Maybe Oi'll even make a necklace out of them too."
"You're freakin' weird, man." Sniper simply shrugged at that, sleep coming quicker than before. "Yo, wait, you pulled teeth outta Croc-O-Diles?"
"Once."
"Is it hard, did it bite ya?" He felt Scout shimmied around to face him somewhat.
"Almost."
"Did you make them into dat hat ya sometimes wear?"
"Yep."
"Woah. Dat's actually… like, dat's… yeah, dat's pretty neat. Hey, uh, quick question, first kisses don't count if you kiss yourself, right?" Sniper paused. What kind of question…
"Oi don't think so."
"Oh, okay, good. Dat's good ta hear…" The runner got quieter and quieter, straight up mumbling words at the end. And soon after, all movement vanished, and the two were left in the silent dark.
The flow of time had changed. That, or Sniper just couldn't fall asleep. Maybe he did but not fully. Things seemed to speed up but were still agonizingly slow. The only way he knew that time hadn't just frozen was the fact that Scout kept tossing and turning. Perhaps that was what kept him from falling asleep fully. All that movement.
There were noises too, that the kid made. Barely audible, sometimes they sounded like words. Almost. Did he sleep talk as well as sleepwalk? Couldn't even stay quiet when unconscious-
The feeling of something wrapping itself around his chest snapped Sniper out of whatever pseudo-comatose he was in. He stiffened at the contact and at first thought the worst. But then Scout made a noise behind him, and the contact tightened.
Oh. Right. The runner tended to do this. He was like a koala. Sniper sighed. He tried to twist himself out from Scout's grip, to little avail. The arm was wrapped tight. The kid was probably not even aware he was doing it, just subconsciously itching towards the only source of heat in the cave. But he was still too close…
Scout had gotten far too close. A realization that came far too late, and brought the marksman to mentally freeze up. He and the runner had gotten far too close.
Why did Sniper let this happen? He didn't even discourage it, he actively let Scout get closer. And he kept going along with it. Why, because he was getting weak? Was the stress of their unworldly situation wearing him down too much? Or made him forget to keep Scout at a distance?
Either way, it didn't quite matter how, Sniper had gone soft. It was fine at first, the kid needed help, he could give it, and hopefully would get some answers in return. That didn't happen. Instead that help was thrown right back into his face. Twice. And he was still letting Scout just… get closer. He rubbed the letterman jacket's sleeve.
This was a mistake.
Blindly grabbing the arm locked around his ribcage, Sniper pried it off and shoved it back over his shoulder. Scout drew in a sharp breath, but didn't wake. He instead shimmied into the pile, and away from Sniper. Then, in practiced, silent movements, Sniper slipped the jacket off his arms and placed it somewhere in the dark, away from him. His old fleece was still to his side so he put that one back on. The cold cave floor seemed to freeze the blood stained in his coat, making the fabric stiff and chilled. His arms already were begging for the letterman back, but Sniper wasn't going to take it back. After fully zipping up the coat, Sniper looked down to where he knew Scout was resting.
No more. He couldn't let this happen anymore. It was just going to get one of them hurt. It already hurt him twice. Scout wouldn't understand, he thought that their team were all the bests of mates, apparently. Why in the world did he then get into this line of work, one that was known for taking lives indiscriminately. Friends and enemies alike. Getting close to anyone was a horrible mistake, why couldn't he understand that? It was mostly Sniper's fault, though, he let this happen. He even told him his name. Just because the kid asked for it!
The marksman got to his feet after grabbing the torch, sleep still desperate to cling to his limbs. But he shook it off, and made his way over to the farthest wall. There he sat, and waited. Sleep could wait, and he wasn't going to let himself be that vulnerable down here. Not underground, not with Scout. So he sat. And waited. And listened.
For how long he sat waiting, listening, he didn't know. But it wasn't as long as he thought it would be. He was only waiting for one of two things: Scout to wake up, or that thing to show up. And one of those happened.
The half scream and snort Scout made when he shot up, awake, snapped Sniper's attention instantly as he stood, back popping from the lengthy wait.
"Right. Up ya get, we're going."
"W-what're ya doin' over there, you should be lyin' down!" Scout pointed out as he got to his elbows. Sniper clicked the flashlight on, causing the runner to whine and shade his eyes.
"Couldn't sleep, now get up."
"Geez, what crawled up your *ss and died?" Scout grumbled. He paused after catching sight of the letterman jacket on the ground next to him. "Hey, what da- was it scratchy or somethin'?"
"Jus' didn't want it." The runner looked up at him, with an expression that made Sniper shift on his feet. But he kept Scout's gaze, and soon enough the younger man looked away.
"oh." Scout grabbed the jacket and began to grab his other clothes from off the ground. Or tried to. Because it seemed like he was having trouble getting to stand. He would push himself to his knees, but couldn't get his legs to move. Sniper groaned and marched over to the pitiful display.
"Need a hand?" Scout whipped his head around and gave Sniper a toothy grin.
"Why, yes ,Snipah, I do need a hand!" He sang, looking ever so annoyed and smug, "Thanks for askin'!"
"Awright, Oi get it, now get up ." He grabbed Scout by his arm and pulled. In hindsight, he should have made sure it was the uninjured one he took hold of, because when he yanked Scout to his feet, the runner yelped. Loudly.
"Shush!"
"You shush! And let go of me, you *sshole! " Scout ripped himself away, cradling his nub. "Dat ****in' hurt!"
"If you would jus' get up when Oi asked, that wouldn't have happened."
"What's your problem, man!?" Scout barked back, grabbing his backpack, "I didn't even do nothin' ta ya. Seriously, Mi-"
"Sniper." The runner paused, shoving the last of his clothes away. He looked up to meet Sniper's eyes, but the marksman was busy looking through his own pack.
"Uh, huh-wha?"
"Oi'm the Sniper, now if you're done, we need to get out of here." Sniper swung his bag over his shoulders and walked towards the entrance they used. Walking was rough, at first, his head still felt quite lopsided. But it wasn't nearly as bad as… last night. How long did they rest, how long have they been down here? Was it morning now, or, really early morning?
"Hey, hey wait!"
"Not happening, Oi am not staying in these tunnels any longer if Oi can help it." Sniper pushed through the thin crack and into the open corridors. The darkness and echoes of his footsteps instantly made the hairs on his neck stand on end.
"Woah, wait, wait," Scout shot out from the cave, swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. "Don't ya still need help? You could barely walk last time."
"Oi'll manage," He could. He didn't need to rely on Scout just to bloody walk . The marksman started forwards, and the runner stumbled after him. The sharp rebounds of their shoes on the moist stone held the only conversation for a while. Sniper kept his mind and eyes forward, on the path ahead. They had to get out of this bloody cave system.
"Uh, Snipes?" Scout suddenly stammered. The noise hardly registered to the Australian, but when it was repeated, he stopped and turned to his companion.
"Whot?"
"Are you… are you feelin' alright, man?" Sniper raised an eyebrow. "Cause ya did hit your head, and ya are really, uh, snappy, right now. So, you okay?" The runner squirmed under Sniper's cold stare, but didn't look away. It was said in earnest. Sniper turned away.
"Yeah, Oi'm fine. Let's go."
"It's just- is it da whole "being underground" thing?" He paused. "It is, ain't it?"
"It isn't pleasant, let's leave it at that." Sniper growled before marching ahead, leaving Scout to scramble to keep up.
"I-I can go first! I'm great at findin' directions, it's one of my many skills!"
"You want to go first, be my guest." Sniper tossed the torch over to Scout. His hand fumbled to catch it. "Lead the way." Scout clicked the light on and off, then met his gaze. He jerked his head to the side. Scout nodded, and trotted to the front.
The pair of mercenaries traveled deeper into the cave. Their journey was quiet, and slow, as Scout would stop every so often to listen for any unwanted guests following them. When the coast was clear, they'd continue. But the constant presence of those glowing webs crawling along the walls was enough to keep their guard up.
The tunnels would twist and turn, some passages were too steep to climb, others fell into straight drops. But there was never a clear dead end, there was always a way to go forwards. In some places, the path would grow thinner and thinner until they had to take off their bags and slip through the cracks. Soon though, one pathway that was far worse than the others.
"Well dat sucks." Scout groaned. Within the center of the torch's beam was their only way forward: a half meter wide tunnel with sharp points hanging from the top. Sniper's mouth dried.
"Welp," Scout huffed before slipping his bag off, "might as well get this over with." As the runner knelt and began to tie his backpack to his ankle, the marksman sat.
"Okay, let's go."
"How do you know that'll lead to the surface?"
"Uh," Scout paused, "I don't. We don't know, we can only keep goin'. It's not like there's another way besides tryin' ta climb back up. And I don't think our rope is long enough for dat."
"At least we know that's a way up." Sniper argued. Scout sighed loudly.
"Duh, but you wanna go back up there without any climbin' gear?"
"Oi can climb jus' fine."
"Yeah, okay, but can you climb sheer cliffs? Or the flat walls on a buildin'? Can ya do dat?" Sniper thought about replying. To tell his smart*rse companion that, yes, he'd been climbing since he was nine years old, and now rock faces and even certain buildings were only a minor inconvenience. But he didn't. He'd shared enough about his life with Scout. Instead, Sniper just shrugged. And again, Scout sighed.
"Look, dude. I think it'll be better if we just keep goin'."
"Like that's an actual plan of action."
"Y'know, you could be a little more optimistic about this sorta thing." Scout said as he got ready to enter the tunnel, giving Sniper an irritated look. Then, he crawled into the tunnel, and took the light with him. In the dark, the marksman glared at the small entrance, like it had just insulted his mum. He was actually going to have to crawl after Scout, wasn't he?
P*ss.
"Hey, look who decided ta join da Tunnel Rat committee!" Scout said as Sniper dragged himself into the small space. It was already awful. The sides grazed his elbows, and he couldn't raise his head to look up because of the sharp spikes on the ceiling. He had no idea how long the tunnel went. And it was dark because Scout was in front of him and he had the torch.
Sniper sighed through his nose. Just…
Just don't think about it too much, think about something else. Anything other than having the ceiling collapse and trap him like this, with arms and knees painfully propped up on the unforgiving floor, unable to turn, unable to stand, unable to do anything than die from either suffocation or hyperthermia- oh bugger .
"Holy s**t this is so freakin' long!" He heard Scout grumble out loud. Right, he wasn't the only one in the tunnel. Scout was also here, and if he got trapped with him, well then he'd either die from having his ears talked off, or from suffocation from Scout stealing up all the oxygen. He groaned.
"Yo, you good?" Scout asked, trying to look over his shoulder at Sniper, "I think it's getting wider up here, so dat probably means we'll be out soon." Oh thank goodness. Sniper had built up enough tolerance in his life to not have too much of an issue belly crawling. But to do so in this setting, was not his idea of a vacation.
"Ah, wait, nevermind, it was just goin' up-" That noise. From before. More wind. Or.
That probably wasn't wind.
"Oh ****." Scout uttered at the sound. "We should go faster. Like, way faster." Scout shot forwards, crawling, almost downright slithering through the thin passage. Sniper could only move one elbow at a time, the crawlspace wouldn't let him go any faster. That noise, now clear enough to make out a vocal tone, made the marksman falter. Was it behind them? In front? He had no clue! Scout was so far ahead already, the light was only a speck to him.
And then it was gone. His heart began to beat. No, he- he needed the light! Sniper pulled himself deeper into the tunnel, trying to go faster. No, he needed to be out sooner than this, he had to go faster. The tunnel was smaller than before, and there was a lip that looked like it went up and into an even slimmer space. Sniper propped himself onto his elbows.
He couldn't. His back hit the ceiling, and there was no give, no leeway. It was solid, and it was the highest he could get. It was trapping him, it wasn't letting him up. To go forward would get him stuck, to go back could get him caught. Trapped. And already the air was growing thin and hard to breathe in.
"Snipah?"
He couldn't go forward.
"I'm out! It's literally just, like, over da lip! Come on!"
He couldn't go up.
"Mick?"
He couldn't.
"If you don't get out of there, I'm gonna lick your rifle!"
…
Ex-bloody-scuse you!?
"Ya got five seconds." What kind of threat was that!? An effective one, apparently, because Sniper raised his head just high enough to shout out "Touch it and you're dead!"
"Well you're in there, and I'm out here, and man does your stupid heavy gun look tasty." Sniper growled and grabbed the floor, propelling himself towards the supposed exit. "Bet it would make for a great popsicle, wonder if tastes like dat stupid veggie jelly you Aussies have. Lemme check real quick." He had to flatten himself in order to slide through the lip.
"Don't you bloody dare!" Sniper snapped, shooting up from the crawlspace. "Oi swear to-" There sat Scout, smirking, on his backpack as if it were a throne. He didn't even have Sniper's Machina, it was still packed away. The kid had bluffed.
"Ha! Knew dat would work." he smiled in spite of himself. Sniper scowled, but didn't argue. Instead, he looked around at the vast cavern they'd crawled into.
It was huge, their voices bounced off the sanded walls. Wooden beams stood as gates to many, many entrances cutting off from the main area. Along the floor were some old, rusted minecart rails, snaking into the dark. A dark that wasn't nearly as potent as the caves before. In the ceiling, high, high above them, were small pinpricks that flooded the room in soft beams of white and rain. If he listened hard enough, Sniper could just make out the soft patter of rain on sodden grass.
"Yeah, I think we're goin' da right way." Scout reasoned, looking mighty confident. "Told ya I'm good at directions."
"Well, now which way?" Sniper asked. The runner paused, and looked around. He pointed at a very specific mineshaft.
"Not dat one." And yeah, Sniper agreed. The holes in the ceiling weren't the only sources of light. Those pale webs growing along parts of the floor and rails gathered around the mineshaft, creating a pathway into a den neither wanted to go into. So that left around… ten more paths to try.
"Also, uh, I think dat thing was behind us, so we should start movin'." Scout slipped on his bag along with Sniper, "let's try this way." He started towards a mineshaft and Sniper followed. There really wasn't any other way of knowing besides checking, was there?
"Woah, this way's cold." Scout breathed, stiffening the further down they went.
"We should go another way." Sniper said, looking back.
"We haven't even walked twenty feet this way, give it a chance-"
Water. A deep, black pool of water along the far wall of the spacious dead end they walked in on. The surface rippled with an unfelt breeze. The pair stared at the pool before Sniper turned on his heel.
"Yeah, nah, Oi'm not dealin' with that."
"But maybe it's da way out! Where else is da water comin' from?" Scout reasoned as he tailed the marksman back to the main cavern.
"There are such things as underground pools, Scout." Sniper deadpanned. The runner scoffed, saying he already knew that, and trotted ahead and into a new mineshaft. The pair crept through, listening for any threat. Although that was slightly hard to do because Scout had gotten onto another ramble about his family, something about getting stuck in a sewer grate. There was one part that caught Sniper's attention, and that was when Scout accidently referred to him as Harvey twice in a row, only catching himself about three seconds after the second time.
"Aw crap, sorry, it's just, ya do look really alike," Scout explained, rubbing his neck, "actually he looks like a lot of people, or, I guess a lot of people look like him. We kinda made dat a game when we were kids, just pointin' at an average joe and goin' "Hey, Harv, look, it's your long lost twin!". One time Davey did it with a baby, and we didn't let dat go for a good two weeks, it was hilarious! Heh, "Half-Pint Harvey"." Scout ended up chuckling to himself for a good five minutes, leading them up, around, down, left, right, and center through the passageway. After a while, they ended up at an overhang overlooking a large dome-like room, with those pale nerves on the floor and many, many passageways leading deeper into the earth. It was familiar.
Too familiar.
"Huh, dat looks really close ta da last one."
"That's because it is the last one," Sniper groaned, "we went in a circle."
"Oh." Scout said, ears turned pink. "Well, we'll just try another way." So they climbed down the overhang and into another passageway. Up, down, down again, up, up, up and to the left, then the right, and then there was a light.
"Oh bloody h*ll," Sniper growled as they walked into the same dome area. Scout paused, furrowing his brow and chewing his lip in thought. There were still about six other passages and paths in the ways they already travelled to check, but Sniper was already getting tired.
"Uh, this way, it's actually higher up so it's closer ta da surface!" Scout called, jogging into a mineshaft that had a slope to reach it. And a rail, which Scout didn't see. The runner's foot caught on the metal railing and fell.
"You awright?" Sniper asked. Scout inhaled, and then gave out a long, drawn out curse.
"My freakin' foot!" He seethed, sitting up. It didn't look broken, at worst he might have torn a ligament or a hamstring. But those didn't seem likely either, so Sniper just bent down and yanked the kid to his feet, much to the runner's protests.
"You'll live," Sniper sighed when Scout whined, "the sooner we get out, the sooner we can get you fixed up."
"Ugh, fine," Scout limped forwards, avoiding the uneven parts of the floor, "Man, you're lucky I put up with you." Oh the irony of that statement, it almost made Sniper laugh. But he didn't, and he continued following Scout.
Again and again they went down the pathways, and again and again they led to the clearing. Longer and longer they were trapped beneath the ground, and with each passing minute Sniper felt a tension build in his veins like a cobra coiling to strike. The light coming in from the sun grew fainter, and he was beginning to think that the noises they heard really were the wind. Because how long had they been searching for an exit? How many corridors had Scout led them through only to find a dead end or a circle? Was there even a way out beside the small holes in the ceiling, being swallowed up by a soft grey?
"This is pointless," the sound of Sniper stopping made Scout stop as well once they reentered the dome for what had to be the twenty first time. "We aren't getting out of here like this."
"Hey, c'mon, don't be like dat, we've gotten this far, haven't we?" Scout reasoned, tone forcefully cheerful. Sniper ignored him, and sat against the stone wall facing the nerve-ridden mineshaft. "We just hafta keep lookin'."
"Looking for whot?" Sniper asked bitterly. "So far every shaft you've led us down has been either dead ends or bloody round-a-bouts!"
"Da exit!" Scout gestured to one of the paths Sniper knew they'd been through, "It's probably down dat one."
"We've gone through that one."
"We did?"
"You haven't been keeping track, have you?" Scout's shameful silence was confirmation enough. "Oh that's jus' bloody brilliant…"
"I thought dat you were da one keepin' track." The Bostonian mumbled. Sniper couldn't hold back his laughter this time. It was short, and biting, echoing through the cavern.
"Oh Oi'm the one who's supposed to keep track!"
"Well, kinda! I mean-"
"And here Oi thought you were good at directions." Scout stuttered. Then frowned.
"Well I thought you were payin' attention cause you're da guy who has da plan! You-" Scout's gestures got looser, "You know this kinda crap! You know outdoor stuff, you know everything! You're da older one, da smarter one, da… da stronger one! You always have a game plan, Snipes! Da guys knew you had their backs, like ya got mine and I got yours! And dat kinda crap needs smart guys havin' plans, and you always do!"
"You have moi back, huh?" Sniper said slowly, looking up to meet Scout's eyes. "That's pretty convenient to say after leaving me to die."
The runner's eyes widened, and he drew back as if bitten.
"I…" He swallowed, "I said I was sorry for dat."
"Fine way of showing it, whot with getting us lost in a bloody mine."
"I ain't doin' it on purpose!"
"Yeah, jus' like it wasn't on purpose to let us fall!"
"It wasn't!-"
"Oh will you jus' shut up for once!?" Sniper spat, "Even when being quiet is the only thing keeping us safe, you still can't shut up about you and your boring life stories!"
"They ain't borin'..."
"How would you know, are you the one listenin' to them 24/7?"
"...I get dat ya don't like bein' down here-"
"Have you considered the fact that Oi jus' don't like you?" Scout flinched. And Sniper couldn't stop himself, the coil had sprung.
"Oi've had to deal with dragging you around and getting nothing but backstabbed in return! Stitched you up? Ya ditch me when Oi needed you the most! Let you stay even after doing that and sharing what little Oi have with you? Ya tell me ta blow moi brains out because no one would notice or care! And now, right when Oi think you were bein' genuine with your apology, this happens! You're like a ****ing bad penny! You're nothing but an anchor tied around moi neck!" Sniper's tirade came to an end as he went to pluck off his shades to rub at his tired eyes. He didn't have his shades. This whole time they were gone, probably lost somewhere in the dark tunnels. The marksman let out a noise of frustration as he ran his hands through his hair, pushing back his hat.
He was tired, he was angry, he was trapped underground with an idiot and his head was starting to pound again. All he could do was take a shaky breath. It was the only noise besides the soft rain that fell through the holes.
"...I'll go find a way out." Scout said, voice small. From behind the palms pressed onto his eyes, Sniper heard the runner limp away.
"Yeah, sure, go ahead and leave, wouldn't be the first time, and Oi highly doubt it'll be the last." He snarled. Scout didn't stop, limping away into one of the mineshafts. Soon enough, the padding of his shoes faded away into the dark, leaving Sniper alone in the spacious room.
The silence was a stranger now, even if there was some noise still leaking in from the cracks. He sat there and waited. For his head to stop thumping, for Scout to return, for death, at this point, every option felt impossible and viable. So he sat, and let the frustration he had built up, what little he had left after the outburst, fade away. And when it did fade, it unveiled an unpleasant feeling.
A sour taste on his tongue, like he'd bitten into a lemon. No, a lime. Lemons were fine, limes were wretched. He spat to rid himself of the taste, but it didn't help. The sourness was uncomfortable, and only built in the silence. Perhaps it was a psychological thing, due to the sudden silence. Or… or maybe it was guilt.
The guilt of once again letting his emotions get the better of him. That's what happens when you connect with a person, emotions get in the way. Was there any greater proof than this? He was right, one of them ended up hurt. Both of them in the end. It was better like this, Scout needed to get the hint, Sniper didn't want whatever bond the runner was so desperate to form. And why did he want to be around him in the first place, made no sense, they had basically nothing in common.
But he also didn't like the distress on the runner's face when he yelled at him, but it was better than him ending up dead for being a point of weakness that others could exploit. If they ever got out, that is. It was better this way. It was. Although Sniper still shouldn't have exploded like that, it was unprofessional. And besides, anger was still an emotion that was ripe for exploiting. It was apathy that would work best. For both of them.
Sniper got to his feet and sighed. So, he could either try to find Scout, and perhaps find a way out, or leave the kid to find his own way out while he went his own way. Well, the outcomes would probably end up the same, it was just the intentions that strayed. That, and he also had no idea which path Scout chose. It could be any number of mineshafts. Besides the one with the pool of water so that one was crossed off the list. And there was only one other mineshaft he knew they hadn't checked.
But would Scout go down it? At first, he reasoned he wouldn't. But the more Sniper thought about it, the more it seemed that Scout would in certain circumstances, and these were the perfect circumstances. So Sniper grabbed his backpack, and marched towards the darkness.
At least the webs glowed just enough to light his path, otherwise he'd be blind. He forgot that Scout had the torch. The tunnel was a bit wider than the others they'd traveled through. Taller too. And the webs were sparse, nothing like Landfall, but still enough to know that this was a bad sign. But he pushed on.
He was met with a slope, and he carefully slid down it, and then another, and another. How long did it go down? It obviously couldn't be a way out, it was digging far too deep. And the nerves were losing some of their glow, leaving Sniper only able to make out silhouettes-
Crack! The sound of muffled glass crunching under his boot caught Sniper's attention. He lifted his foot, and grabbed at the small glass thing. Metal, thin, wiry. He hissed as his finger was cut as he accidentally grazed some of the fractured glass. Circular too. These were glasses.
What in the world were glasses doing down here? Sniper tried to hold them to the light, but to no avail, it was too dark. But it was too strange of a detail to leave unquestioned. So he kept going deeper and deeper.
The light was all but extinguished now, the webs gone, and leaving Sniper to scramble around in the dark. Feeling along the wall, he felt it disappear into air on the right, so he went right. Uncertain foot after uncertain foot he placed, hoping that he'd find something .
And something he did. Or more accurately, something found him.
A hole.
Unable move back in time, Sniper felt the ground give to open air and soon he was tumbling down a steep slope. Rolling down, the world spun into colors of black and pale greys. And after far too long, he came to a stop at the bottom of the slope.
…Oh h*ll, this wasn't going to help with his head situation at all. The spinning continued even after he got to his knees. Sniper hissed a string of colorful language and looked around.
He had fallen into another large area. However, it wasn't the one from before. It was big , about the size of two fire stations with alleys in between. A spotlight of rainfall and sunshine lay in the middle of the room, perfectly positioned with a little patch of grass beneath it. The walls rounded out into a dome at the top, and those strings criss-crossed along the walls. Becoming denser the further they went up. Sniper looked towards the ceiling. Up,
And up,
And up.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
Along the ceiling of the cave, and around a small hole letting in the elements, were seven cocoons of varying sizes. Some were slim, most were well built, and one was gigantic. Even from where he sat Sniper could make out the shadows within.
"So that's whot it looks like from the outside…" he murmured. Sniper reached for his backpack and began to rifle through it. Where was it, where was his rifle? Oh. Right. Scout had it in his bag.
Bugger.
He instead began to search for anything water related. Even an empty jar he could use. That height was an unknown factor though, would the cocoons' walls be enough to cushion the fall? He felt his hand enclosed upon a jar, a full one. Whipping it out, Sniper locked eyes on the closest cocoon, and aimed.
The body that fell through the hole put a pause on the marksman's plan as his eyes widened even more than before.
It laid there, flesh rippling and melting away into a glistening liquid running rivets down its arms and legs. The body was more anthropomorphic than the last time Sniper saw it. It looked like how it was when he had been strung up. Then, it moved, and sat up.
"Bloody h*ll," Demo's voice grumbled as it shook off the liquid. It got to its feet, brushing off its knees and chest. Then it moved away from the grassy patch with its back to Sniper, shaking itself like a dog.
"I am getting too old and giant for dis." it grumbled. Then, after checking itself and seemingly finding nothing to worry about, it grabbed its left hand and pulled.
A sickening wet ripping sound followed the hand getting torn from its socket. It tossed the hand to the ground like it was simply a morning routine and not a horrific display of self mutilation like Sniper perceived as such. It stared at the decapitated appendage, waiting. Sniper did too, silent as a fox. And then the hand grew.
Twisting flesh grew from its wrist like a blooming flower, growing and growing more and more. And whether it was the hypnotic dance of the skin forming, or simply unable to look away from the disturbing display, Sniper watched as the hand grew to become connected with a body.
A body that had the same rippling skin, the same bare form, as the one it was made from. But when it stood, slouched, lethargic, it looked shorter. Slimmer, with a longer torso and arms to match. And a face, almost. No mouth or nose was there, but it did grow eyes.
The first, and taller one, grabbed the other by its hand, pulling it towards itself.
"Don't worry, I'll be gentle!" it teased, pinching the smaller one's cheek. The smaller swatted away, and stumbled, looking around and at itself.
"What da h*ll… aRe wE doin'... NOw ?" Scout's voice demanded to know, and Sniper's heart froze. The older one pointed at the cocoons along the ceiling.
"..Our MISssOn." A voice, one Sniper hadn't heard from it before, garbled and twisted up in knots, erupted from the older. It sounded faintly European. He watched the pair chat in stitched together words and phrases. They hadn't noticed him yet. He should probably make sure it stays that way.
Sniper grabbed his bag, and put it on as quietly as he could. Never letting them out of his sight, he crept backwards towards the slope he fell down. He'd need to look away to climb it but until then, he was going to keep a close eye, in case he had to make a break for it-
The smaller had been looking around when it spotted Sniper. The two made eye contact, and Sniper couldn't help but swallow at the thunder cloud blue eyes staring back. It then glared.
"Da freakin' Sniper's a Spy!" It shouted, pointing at Sniper. The other whipped around, its face blank and rippling. But even without that, he could feel the anger radiating off it.
"YOU." It growled. "GOT AWAY."
Sniper spun and scaled the slope, heart racing. The screams of the damned rose up behind him, some he even recognized. His hands grabbed the edge and he hoisted himself up and over.
Giving the cocoons a mental apology, Sniper booked it through the tunnel. The darkness had never felt so hindering before. Slamming into walls, cutting his arms and hands on sharp outcroppings, he was losing whatever pitiful lead he had and quickly. Behind him he heard the words "stay here!". As if he would follow those directions! His feet pounded, creating deafening echoes, trailing the marksman like his predator.
The webs. He'd found them again, giving him enough light to follow the path. Spy's laugh echoed behind him. Of course it would use the bloody spook when chasing him.
The open room was in his sight, from there-
Where would he go!? It was endless circles, and he wouldn't make it through that hellish crawlspace again! He needed time!
Breathing running ragged, Sniper reached into his backpack. Come on, come on!
Bingo!
He spun and lobbed a mason jar the hardest he could, hitting his assailant, who had taken the form of Soldier, directly in the face, or helmet. It screamed in pain, or anger, Sniper didn't care. He stayed only to watch the water begin to burn through the now rippling flesh before sprinting down the last of the corridor and into the open area.
He yelled in shock and didn't have time to stop before colliding with Scout, the real one. They fell, and Scout screamed in pain having landed on his bad arm. And Sniper could only just keep from passing out as his head spun faster than a top.
"Holy crap, where have you freakin' been, you *sshole!?" Scout yelled, obviously annoyed for several reasons. Sniper just looked at him before jumping to his feet and pulling Scout up with him.
"Did you find a way out!?" he demanded.
"What?"
"Did you find a way out!?" he shouted, shaking the damp runner, who glared at him with distrust.
"Yeah, cause I actually kept look-"
"It's here. Where is it?" Sniper's grip tightened. Scout, who first looked indignant, now caved in abject horror. But that gave way to a fierce determination.
"Follow me!" He said, and speed-hobbled towards a mineshaft. Sniper was right on his heels, looking over his shoulder. He could hear a very annoyed German man now.
"Right, hope you're a good swimmer, dude!"
Wait, what? Sniper spun back and watched as Scout dove into the pool of ink in the middle of the floor. Sniper grinded to a halt at the edge of the water, staring into the lake with wide eyes. Scout apparently noticed his hesitation, and popped back up with his hair sticking to his face.
"Come on! This is da way out!"
"There's got to be another way," Sniper said, shaking his head and backing away. Not this option, not this one.
"There isn't!" Scout roared, "I've looked, we've looked, there's nothing else! NOW GET IN DA ****IN' WATER!" He grabbed Sniper's ankle and pulled.
Before he could take a breath, Sniper was engulfed in freezing blackness. It was everywhere, and the frost forced him to take a breath. Instantly, his lungs were filled with that darkness. He coughed, hacked, desperate to take in a breath. The surface, where was it!? He clawed at the dark, feeling himself get pulled deeper below. No, not like this! NOT LIKE THIS!
NOT LIKE-
Sniper broke through the surface, pulled by his arm into a small air pocket. The water that filled his lungs was coughed up droplet by droplet as he pushed himself flat against the wall, grabbing anything to stay afloat. Besides him, Scout treaded water, watching unimpressed.
"So you can't swim, is what I'm gettin' from this." Sniper couldn't respond, he was too busy gulping down the precious oxygen he couldn't have before. The subzero water drenched his clothes, sticking to his skin, leaving no heat. "Here, gimme your bag, I'll take it ta da surface so you don't drown yourself." Scout grabbed Sniper's backpack and handed him the torch. Fumbling with it due to his shaking hands, Sniper flicked it on as Scout dove beneath the surface and into an underground water system. His hands shook more, and it was all he could do to not drop beneath the water.
He waited, shivering, listening to the tell tale signs of Scout swimming back, or something else. No, it couldn't follow. Water hurts it, right? It wouldn't chase him down here, and drag him below the surface-
Sniper shut his eyes, pulse pounding faster than he could handle. It, this was awful. Bloody awful. Out of all the places to get free-
"I'm back!" Scout erupted from the water, causing Sniper to scramble away, assuming the worst. 'Holy crap, dude, call down, it's just me."
"It's not-" He swallowed, the taste of dirt water on his tongue, "It's not you it's. It's th. It's this. This whole mess!" Scout looked around, chewing his cheek.
"Well, it can't follow us. Water hurts it." he stated. The runner then gestured for Sniper to follow him, "now c'mon, let's get outta here, my *ss is freezin' off." He dove once more.
Then reemerged when he noticed Sniper hadn't moved.
"Dude, what's da hold up?" The marksman's eyes hadn't left the water's surface, staring into the dark ripples waiting to swallow him. He shook his head in defeat.
"Oi can't do this…" Sniper croaked. "Oi can't do this."
"Da h*ll do ya mean ya can't do this?" Scout snapped, "You're a grown *ss man, you can swim enough ta make it out!"
"Jay, Oi-" Sniper bit his tongue at the slip up, but it caught Scout's attention. He waited for the Australian to finish, with a less judgmental expression. So he took a breath, a shaky one.
"If it were open," he started, voice rough with raw emotion and cave water, "if it was on the surface. And Oi can deal with small spaces, Oi can. There's jus' no surface down here. It's dark, enclosed, you can get turned around or stuck in small passageways so easily, and drown. It-"
"So it's da whole "bein' underground and underwater" thing?" Scout asked. Sniper hung his head, and nodded. Scout was silent, letting the information roll around in his head, before swimming a bit closer to Sniper.
"I'm terrified of Cockroaches," he said point blank. Sniper stared at Scout before he gave a weak smile.
"Oi already knew that based on your girly screams in Landfall, mate."
"Well you'd probably be freakin' scared stiff of them too if one fell into your mouth when you were sleepin' at age freakin' four!" Sniper chuckled, and Scout pretended to act offended. The mood didn't stay cheery as Sniper turned back to the black water.
"Hey." Scout nudged him with his elbow, "I won't let ya drown. I'm gonna get you outta here." He was so sure of that, so confident. Sniper didn't trust it, but that confidence was the only thing he had.
"How long do we have to swim for?"
"Kinda long," his heart dropped, "but there's two more air pockets along da way so it'll be fine. Lemme just," Scout ducked into the water again. And when he resurfaced, his expression was bitter smugness.
"I caught it lookin' at us." he said, sneering, "stickin' its head in da water, like it could get us. Looked angry, let's make it more angry by gettin' out of here." Scout punched Sniper shoulder and dove. Taking a deep breath, and regretting all of his life decisions that led him to this point, Sniper dove too.
The water was black, but the torch's beam illuminated the underwater passage enough to swim through. Although the current was slow, it was cold, and keeping his eyes open underwater was a trial of perseverance. Ahead was Scout, leading the way. Behind, when Sniper looked, was a head glaring in their direction. It didn't look like the monster, but from here, it was hard to tell.
Right when his chest started to warm up with carbon, they reached the second pocket. A small break was taken, then onwards. The third was closer than the second, and Sniper's nerves weren't threatening to jump out of his skin, They reached it, and Scout took only a single breath before diving again. Sniper followed a second later. The water grew lighter, the black growing into a dingy dishwater grey. Then a few bubbles escaped his lips in shock as the sight of a narrow hole came to view.
Scout swam right through it, propelling himself through by grabbing the sides and thrusting himself forwards. Sniper tried to do the same, and for a horrible moment, his fleece caught on the edge, and he felt himself get stuck. But a frantic tug ripped him free, and the shimmering white surface broke at the touch of his fingers.
"We made it!" he heard Scout shout out. Sniper let himself smile, even though the surface was just as wet as the shallow lake he'd popped out in. It was Sawmill alright, stormy weather and everything. Literally stormy, it was pouring buckets, and he heard the rumble before he saw the flash of white deep within the upcoming clouds.
"Oh woah, this's da RED team base! Look," Scout pointed as he dragged himself to the lake's bank. Sniper turned as he felt the ground under his feet. Sure enough, there was the RED base, standing proud and undamaged. The mines must cover the entire estate of land. Farther in the distance was the BLU base, looking like a miniature from where Sniper stood. And where he stood was in the water. The freezing cold water.
"Wait, Scout, you're not going to believe whot Oi found down there," He called out to the runner, who was rigging out his own jacket in vain. At his name, Scout looked over, and Sniper opened his mouth to tell him about the cocoons-
When something grabbed his ankle and yanked him below the surface. Water flooded his mouth, and Sniper nearly screamed as he was being pulled back into the tunnel. He grabbed for anything to use, to pull himself free. He kicked, chest filling with a warmth, and whipped around to see a pair of deep brown eyes.
It looked like a man. No rippling flesh, no twisting faces and thousand eyes or chest mouths. A man with pale skin, a roman nose, and eyes so black even the surface light couldn't lighten them. In the water, like blood and ink, that shimmering liquid floated away from the body. Whenever a hint of red grew on the skin, it immediately dissolved into the white ink.
Sniper snarled and kicked the thing. It only pulled faster and soon Sniper was being dragged through the narrow hole. He grabbed the sides and pulled. And suddenly, the water exploded into a cloud of bubbles and ripples as Scout dove after. The runner shot forwards and grabbed Sniper's hand. He planted his feet on the rock wall and pulled with all his might.
A spiral of bubbles filled Sniper's vision, and his chest was growing tight. Air, he didn't grab enough. The marksman struggled with everything he had to get free. The hands latched around his ankle would not be so easily shaken. The man, when Sniper tried to kick again, energy slipping faster and faster, flashed an evil grin.
It was darkening, and that pain in his chest was growing by the millisecond. The cold of the black water filled his limbs, slowing him down, growing tired. The only warmth left was the hand encased in his own.
Air…
Sniper grimaced, vision growing darker than the water.
Air, please…
Scout pulled even harder, panicking.
Not like this…
The tightness forced him to take a breath.
Blackness filled his lungs.
There was no air.
His vision collapsed.
When he felt Sniper's grip go limp, Scout pulled as hard as he could. Harder than any game of Tug O War, harder than anyone, harder than life itself. And soon Sniper was just far enough out for Scout to get access to the b*****d's hands. He darted forwards, and bit down with all his might. Through the water he heard it scream and it released his teammate's leg.
Wasting no time, Scout wrapped his arms around the marksman's torso, and kicked off like a torpedo. The extra weight slowed him down, and his chest was filled with fire. But that didn't stop him.
With a thundercrack, the pair broke through the surface. Scout gasped for air, filling his lungs and beginning to shiver with exhaustion. He dragged Sniper through the water and onto the muddy bank. There, he dropped him, and fell himself like a wet bag of cement.
"Oh ****, dat was too freakin' close." he wheezed, "like, oh man, we actually could have died there. Oh man." Scout rolled onto his elbows, and through half lidded eyes, looked over at his waterlogged companion.
"You owe me, like, three live debts now, and you best bet I'm gonna…" he paused. Sniper lay there, facing away. "Snipah? Snipes?" An alarm was already blaring in Scout's mind base, saying something like "Alert, the BLU Sniper is Not Moving!". Which wasn't a good sign at all.
"Snipah, come on, get up!" He scrambled over to his teammate. Sniper didn't move. Scout's heart was starting to beat. Ohh, Sniper's own better be beating too! Scout grabbed the marksman's wrist. Then he jabbed his fingers under his jaw. And then his wrist again.
He sat up, cold. Frozen. Scout looked around, eyes wide in distress. No, the only road was too far away. He was alone, and the Medigun was broken. There was only one thing he could do.
A moment passed, and Scout rolled Sniper onto his back, clambered on top, and started to push the heel of his palm and stump into his chest.
"You. Are. Not. Goin'. Ta Do. This. Ta Me!" Scout hissed. He should have paid more attention when Medic was teaching them CPR. It was just so boring, and how was he supposed to know if he'd ever need to do it!? Well now he sure did! AND HE COULDN'T EVEN DO IT RIGHT, HE WAS DOWN A HAND!
Pattern, it was a pattern, a certain number of beats per somethin'! What was it, 3,2,1? No, too quick, too little. D*mnit, Mick's life was at stake here! Scout just kept pushing in Sniper's chest. No elbow bending, he knew that, and if ribs cracked, that's a-o-kay, he'll live!
A dull crunch noise met Scout's ears, and he instinctively drew back, knowing what he'd done. But he couldn't stop! So he placed his hand back on Sniper's sternum and started to focus on the rhythm he needed.
1,
2,
3,
1,
2,
3,
His arm was burning horribly. He should have used a medkit, he didn't need to use all of them on Sniper, cause one sure would be helpful right about now! It was probably gross again and any sort of contact made it feel like it had been caught under a jet engine so- focus!
1,
2,
3,
1,
2,
3,
Sniper still wasn't moving, he wasn't breathing. Breathing, that was another thing to this whole shabang! And Scout grimaced.
"Wake up," he practically begged the unresponsive man, "dude, please, wake up, I don't wanna freakin' do dat, it's freakin' gross! And you'd hate it too!" Of course he didn't respond, he was d- No, no, okay, he'd do it! Taking the biggest breath of his life, and putting up several mental barriers, he paused his compressions. And leaned over, and did it. He then leaned back, spat, and started compressing again.
The pattern was fixed, compress, breathe, spit, repeat.
1,
2,
3,
1,
2,
3,
Sniper still wasn't moving. Not breathing on his own, not beating on his own. Wasn't it the longer he didn't move the more likely it was that-
Scout flinched when a deafening thundercrack filled the air. That was far too close, this was dangerous! But Mick still wasn't moving! Another crash of lightning flooded the runner's ears, and he whimpered at the close proximity. But he didn't stop.
"Get up," he began to whisper as the storm bore down harder, "get up, get up, please get up." His vision was burning and blurring, so much so that Mick's face was now unrecognizable. "Please, please get up! I promise I won't make fun of your stupid van anymore, or you throwin' your own p*ss at people just please get up!" His voice was wavering. "I-I freakin' promised I wouldn't let you drown, please, please! GET UP, PLEASE!" The thunder sent his ears ringing. "I don't freakin' care if you hate me when you wake up, or you beat on me, or throw me out but just WAKE UP ALREADY!" There was no response. Why would there? Mick wasn't waking up. Scout still did chest compressions, despite his arm bleeding all over himself and his friend.
His best freakin' friend in the whole, stupidly wide world.
Scout sniffed as another bolt of lightning deafened him. He looked up at the thunderous sky. The clouds rumbled a warning not to test them. A deep electrical crackling, almost like laughter. He glared up at the sky, and it's smug rumbling chuckles. They didn't think he would do it, they were calling his bluff. Scout narrowed his eyes, and bolted.
He slid at the pile of backpacks he made on the lake side, Ripping Sniper's bag open, he searched faster and faster. Each second he wasn't compressing was another percentage point that Mick wouldn't wake up. As he dug, Scout started to rip the bandages off his arm with his teeth. It rubbed it raw, and stuck with some diseased slime, but he needed it bare.
His hand clamped around the handle of Sniper's kukri, and he raced back, lightning on his tail. Scout skidded to a halt at Mick's side, dropped the knife, and grabbed the marksman's coat. The zipper was caught on something, he pulled really hard. No, a waste of time, Scout grabbed the knife, and sliced it across his friend's front. The coat fell away, and the runner wasted no time ripping his shirt open too.
A crackle of lightning filled the air. Would this work, he didn't know. But it was the only option he had left at this point. Scout, with gritted teeth, planted his still bleeding stump right above Sniper's heart, raised the kukri to the sky, and waited with bated breath.
The sky rumbled, calling his bluff.
Scout braced himself, tightening his grip.
Try me.
A pain unlike anything Sniper had ever felt before flooded his veins and nerves. It was like all his muscles, tendons, and ligaments all compressed into a hundred springs and all set off at once. He screamed himself hoarse as he felt his body convulse with the energy surging through him. And as soon as it started, it stopped, and all Sniper could do was lay there with his heart beating out of his chest, and wonder what the ever loving **** had happened.
He took in a breath, and started to cough up water. Racing into a sitting position, Sniper coughed and coughed until it felt like he'd hacked up a lung and a half. After he was able to take in a full lung of air without dying of water moisture, Sniper ran a hand down his face.
"Oh whot the actual h*ll was that?" He paused when something grabbed his attention. It was a smell. It was hard to forget because of how distinct it was. The smell of burning hair. He ran a hand through his hair to find it soaking wet. So Sniper looked down-
"Oy! Get off!" He lightly shoved Scout off his lap. The kid, it seemed, was out of it, and the source of the burning hair. The edges of his hair were charred black and his eyes were unfocused, pupils resembling pinpricks, and trembling violently. "Whot happ-"
His shirt was cut open, and his fleece, leaving his chest exposed. That was concerning in and of itself, but what really caught his attention was the red, dripping stain of blood right below his collarbone. Sniper looked over at Scout, who was still trembling.
"Whot the h*ll happen- OOF!" He didn't get to finish his sentence as Scout tackled him to the ground, trapping his arms to his side in a rib crushing hug. Actually, literally, there was an awful dull thumping in his chest that was the tell-tale sign of a broken rib. "Kid, get off!"
"It worked!" Scout's broken voice was pressed against his shoulder, "It worked! You're alive!" Sniper stiffened at the words.
"W-Whot?" he pried Scout off, and, again, lightly shoved him away, 'Whot are you talking about?"
"Youdidn'thaveapulseandyouwouldn'twakeupandIdidn'tknowwhattodosoIdiddatCPRcrapbutitwasn'tworkin'and-" Scout paused his rambles as he glared as Sniper. Then he socked him in the jaw with a less than powerful punch.
"I wasted my first kiss on you, you ****in' s**tbag!" Scout shouted, absolutely livid. Meanwhile, Sniper was just horribly confused.
"Huh?"
"Freakin', let's just-ju-just go," Scout said behind chattering teeth, "I'm sick of lookin' at you just lyin'-n there." He stumbled to his feet, still holding the kukri, and shambled over to his backpack. Sniper followed after, hissing quietly at the soreness that filled every fiber of his being. He took his own backpack, which felt incredibly heavy, and followed after the runner.
His eyes wandered down to Scout's wounded arm. And while the sight of red still dripping was something he knew wasn't a good sign, Sniper just couldn't bring himself to ask about it.
He had something else he had to bring up to his youngest teammate.
I just busted this out today baby! My eyes hurt SO BAD, heck yeah! And I got work today, heck nah! I almost left this as a cliff hanger again, but I couldn't do that to you again. It would be too mean. Mostly. Anyway, we're reaching the third act boys! Ain't no breaks on this writing train! Enjoy my story, review if you so choose, it helps with others finding and reading my story, anyway, toodles, I'm tired!
