She lit a cigarette, feeling bile rise up in her throat again. She choked it down best she could and placed it against his lips.

"Merci." Replied the Spy's head, pulling a small puff into his mouth. The smoke bled from his nose, having nowhere else to go. In fact, Tracy had no idea how the Spy could speak, she was pretty sure talking required more than just the mouth. When she had first laid eyes on him she was almost certain he was just a lifeless decapitated head, just another piece for the REDs experiments, until he finally reacted. The first thing she noticed was his eyes moving, and then he spoke.

Just looking at him sent a chill down her spine. Tracy didn't want to be here anymore, but she couldn't help but feel obligated to do something. For a moment there was silence, just the Spy taking puff after puff off his cigarette, awkwardly wiggling it with his lips to knock the ash off. She didn't know what to say, and felt like he should be the first to speak.

"I assume since you wear my teams colour zhat BLU has gained another employee?" His looked her over, not hiding the judgement in his gaze. Tracy shifted slightly, she couldn't help it, the sight of a disembodied head supported on a metal dish powered by a transistor battery sitting there talking to her was burning a hole in her head. The animalistic monkey part of her brain (and probably her heart) were rejecting the signals her eyes were sending them. She wanted to look away, but if she knew the Spy he would find it disrespectful.

Tracy sat there a moment before realizing she hadn't responded to his question. She nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment. The muscles in his face twitched, the tendons left visible on the stump of his neck bulged as he attempted to flex a muscle that clearly wasn't there anymore. He began muttering to himself, puffing madly.

"Of course zhey wouldn't come looking for me... zhe machine released another-" He cut himself off, turning his gaze back to her. "You weren't sent here to rescue me, clearly."

She winced, "No, I was sent to retrieve some files. And I came across a photo..."

"Ah yes, I remember zhe one in question. Not my best side, I assure you." She wasn't sure if that was an attempt at lightening the mood or just a macabre joke to deal with his situation in the only way he could. As quickly as she had lit the cigarette, the Spy smoked the entire thing and spat it out as far as he could. "Dont make me beg for another."

At that she couldn't help but roll her eyes. He really was like the Spy she had known for so long, just without the rest of him. She grabbed another from the pack, placing it between his lips before lighting it. He nodded in thanks, taking another puff.

"How exactly did you get in here anyway?" He mused, "I thought going through the enemy resupply was forbidden?"

"The Sp-" She interrupted herself, unsure how appropriate it was to mention his doppelganger. "I was told as long as I don't tamper with the respawn or attack anyone inside of it, technically I'm not violating the convention."

"Clever. Something I would come up with..." She couldn't describe the emotion in his voice, the longing and anger that burned through those words. It was hoarse, as if he hadn't spoke in a long time, but also as if he were holding back a very many violent words. "How long have I been here, in zhe company of these monsters? I haven't had any ability to keep track of time, always trapped in zhat damned fridge! My only companions zhose slowly rotting organs, in the darkness..."

The head trembled, in anger or fear she could not tell. Tracy wanted to lean over and hug the man, if that were possible. But not only did she assume he would despise the action, but she was physically repulsed by the sight of him. It had been difficult, willing up the courage to simply take him out of the fridge. Hopefully he didn't take the expression on her face as an insult, she truly couldn't help it.

"I haven't been in BLU for very long, a few months maybe, I'm not great at keeping track of time." Tracy admitted, shrugging as she sat down in a red chair. "You have no idea at all how long its been? I mean... do you remember how this happened to you?"

"Oh, I remember the day very well." He spat.

"We were at Badwater Basin, and we were on zhe attack for a change. We had seriously injured zhe majority of their team mates, only I and a few others had pushed forward, the rest holding position not far behind. Zheir Medic was my target, I believed him to be preoccupied with his patients. I admit I was too aggressive, I wanted this round to end and I believed if I had succeeded... perhaps zhis war may not have continued for as long as it has."

He took in a deep breath, smoke was heavy in the room now. It curled around them both like a fuzzy blanket, weaving through the dim light.

"I struck from behind, but he reacted quicker than I anticipated. Zhe rest is..." The pain on is face was immeasurable, something she couldn't equate to any pain she had experienced. "Darkness, muddled... It felt like forever, and then I woke up. And I was in agony."

"Zhe good doctor tried to put me out of my misery at first, I can at least give him zhat. But after the first few attempts, he realized what my existence meant."

Tracy gulped, her mouth suddenly dry. "He used you like a guinea pig."

"Correct. And do you know what he created when he uncovered the secrets to my existence?"

She paused, looking down at the files in her hands. The medigun schematic was on top, slightly crumpled at the edges.

"No..."

"Yes. Not only that, but zhat disgusting baboon heart pumping the blood through your veins right now is only possible due to moi. He discovered the essence of life, and all because I had been too eager for the kill."

There was silence as Tracy took in that information. That meant this Spy had been around for the invention of the first Medigun, something her Medic had explained was created by accident. He had also mentioned the Medigun had been produced before Ubercharge had been discovered, which only served to confused her.

"If that's right, then how come you respawned?" She winced a little, "I mean, if you were killed before Medic gave us those hearts, how is there one of you...?"

He rolled his eyes at her, "We did it zhe 'old fashioned way' as zhe laborer would put it, our blood was taken every day before a match. Zhere was no instant respawn, it could take hours before one of those idiots realized you were gone. Zhe record was five days. Count your blessings, my dear, you have no idea how many times I've witnessed zhat madman do horrific zhings to our corpses."

"Trust me, I've come pretty close to it myself." She shivered at the reminder. Just being inside the RED base was making her skin prickle. "You know, you sound pretty hotheaded for a BLU."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Well... I have a theory..." Tracy mumbled, "Are you the first?"

He blinked, "I don't follow."

She huffed impatiently, "Are you THE Spy, the first. Or are you a clone of the RED Spy?"

This gave him pause, confusion passed over his face before he realized what she was asking. He bristled, obviously insulted by the insinuation.

"That is a horrible thing to ask someone. You know the answer." He hissed. "None of us are the originals. They are all dead."

Instant regret coiled in her stomach. Why did she have to ask that question? Clearly this was the last person she should be discussing this with. She had only asked since he had clearly been untouched by respawn for a very long time, giving credence to her curiosity, but now was not the time. The poor man had essentially been locked in a dark room, possibly years, his only connection to the outside world was essentially Doctor Frankenstein. Tracy sighed, standing up and walking over to the head.

"I'm sorry, you're right, that was an awful thing to ask someone. Especially in your position." However much it displeased her, she picked him up and brought him to eye level, not wanting him to feel like she was going down to his. "So, do you have some sort of plan...?"

"What do you mean?" He was still insulted, but his curiosity gave his anger pause.

"Well, I'm not gonna just leave you here." She said, giving him a brightest smile she could manage. It came off weary, but genuine. "I spent a night with the REDs once, don't plan on repeating that ever again. You've been here for a very long time and I'm not letting you stay here a second longer."

He blinked, apprehension and hope blooming in his eyes. She knew what he was thinking at that moment, he didn't want to believe that he was finally getting out of here, but he was willing to take the chance. He straightened up, as best he could, glaring at a door across the room that she assume was a closet. Opening it, she gagged at the sight. Piles of corpses in vary states of decomposition, many of the bodies were not in one piece. Hands, arms, feet, an torsos littered the ground like garbage. She resisted the urge to close the door and vomit again, aware of the precious cargo in her hand. She gave him a miserable look, cocking an eyebrow.

"Why wouldn't he have these in cold storage?" Tracy muttered, stepping away from the door.

"Unnecessary with zhe Medigun, it simply regenerates the rotten flesh. No more questions, I don't believe we have much time." The Spy jerked his chin towards the room. "We'll need someone to take my place. Zhere should be a corpse in zhere with a head, do what needs to be done."

Tracy nodded grimly, setting him down on a nearby counter before grabbing one of the RED Medic's bone saws. Stepping into the room, she was suddenly glad her uniform came with gloves. She set about pushing the bodies aside, looking for a familiar suit. She soon found one, although in RED. She found it a bit macabre the doctor would take his own team mates corpses as science experiments, but she wasn't necessarily surprised. Steeling herself, she held the corpse by the head, forcing it against the floor for leverage. Placing the saw against the corpses neck, she gritted her teeth and began. She was surprised by the ease of it, the teeth of the blade were never caught on gristle or cartilage. Vertebrae parted easily, and quicker than she expected, she was done. Picking up the rotting head, she returned to the living one.

"Okay, now what?"

"Use zhe medigun on the operating table to freshen it up." He didn't bother to look at the head for any longer than a moment, the disgust was evident on his face. "Do not worry about reviving him, what happened to myself cannot be replicated with zhat contraption."

She nodded and did as she was told, walking past rolling tables filled with medical implements and placed the head down on the table. Mimicking what she saw her resident German doctor would perform, Tracy pulled back the lever of the medigun and witnessed the necrotic flesh regenerate. Once grey slightly green flesh turned a healthy pink, she wouldn't have been surprised if it had opened its eyes. Once she was sure it was fully regenerated, she turned the machine off and returned to the Spy.

"Now, for zhe final touch." He took in a deep breath and sighed, having spat out his cigarette long ago. "What I will ask of you will reveal something very dear to me, so I trust you will not speak a word of it."

She nodded automatically, "Of course."

The Spy looked up to her, then to the severed head, desperation drawing severe lines across his forehead. "You will need to remove me from zhis contraption, after zhat I will only have a limited amount of time before I lose consciousness. Take off our masks, switch zhem, and put him in my place. Then we can leave, and hopefully zhe REDs will believe I expired naturally."

Her eyebrows raised, revealing the surprise clearly on her face. Tracy would have never expected in a million years for The Spy to reveal his identity, especially not to her. She would have counted herself lucky if she managed to get on a first name basis with the man. Seeing his face... it really accentuated the hopelessness of his situation. He was willing to do anything to get out of here, even if it meant revealing his biggest secret to her. At that moment, she couldn't help but feel ashamed for questioning him earlier. She approached him and gently took him into her hands, cupping his cheekbones gently.

Tracy closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose, before giving him a small smile. "That's better than my plan."

He gave her a small frown, but the lines on his face softened slightly. "And what was zhat?"

"I didn't have one." Tracy gave him a playful shrug, receiving only a snort in response. Deciding she had procrastinated long enough, she placed one hand against the base of the device attached to him and the other under his chin, and began pulling. There was a soft squelching noise as the gore of the Spy's throat slipped from the hole, smashing against the sides. If the Spy had felt any pain, he did not show it, simply rolling his eyes up to signal his assent. Tracy gently touched his face, avoiding the stump of his neck at all costs as she searched for the end of his mask. Eventually she realized the end had grown into his skin, especially in the exposed flesh of the wound. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed a pair of medical scissors and delicately sliced the mask off. She tried to get as much as she could without digging into his skin, but she definitely wasn't a doctor and never would be. Once she was certain she hadn't cut him, she began pulling the piece of fabric away.

She wanted to look away, but she felt compelled to witness it. What she saw wasn't really a surprise, she already had a decent idea of what he looked like, the mask was very tight and his facial features were quite striking. Sharp chin and high cheekbones with a hooked nose and thin lips, silvery-blue eyes and an unshaven jaw. What was interesting was his hair, short and loose, and a very similar color to the Scout's if not a tad greyer. In fact... now that she really looked at him...

"You look exactly like Scout."

A mix of emotions fought for dominance on his face, surprise to distrust to anger, until he quickly collected himself.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Deciding she didn't want to argue, Tracy removed the mask from the REDs decapitated head and replaced it with the BLUs, shoving the head into the metal disk. Placing it inside the refrigerator, she rearranged everything she had touched to it's proper places, throwing out the cigarette butts he had spat on the floor. Double checking everything, she grabbed the Spy and the documents and stepped towards the shutter door.

There was definitely activity past that door, every few seconds she heard respawn dropping their team in, or the sound of the resupply cabinet being rummaged inside. The only redeeming factor about this meant her team was giving them quite the beating, something she couldn't help but take pride in. Tracy glanced down at the Spy, who blinked wearily up at her. She assumed he would just black out if she took too long, but she didn't really want to take that chance. Turning back down into the room, she looked around and suddenly had an idea.


She didn't like how the fabric felt against her skin, but she knew it was the only way out. Although she couldn't figure out why it was so uncomfortable, she had to assume it was made out of the same fabric her uniform was.

At least it fit, but that was to be expected, being the RED Thief's uniform. Tracy figured the discomfort was simply due to the color, it was progressively feeling more and more like wearing certain colors was a war crime. She had never felt this preference for the two before, she had always liked the colors equally. But she assumed it was a kind of conditioning. Not only to react quickly to an attack, but to garner fear and resentment against the two teams. A little part of her felt like that was wrong, and she agreed with it, but knew it was necessary in the end.

Shaking her head of those thoughts, Tracy smoothed the red turtleneck against her chest and gave herself a quick check in the mirror. It was convincing enough, she wasn't dumb enough to take off her BLU uniform and risk getting killed by her own team, she intended to ditch the uniform as soon as possible. She had simply pulled the RED Tracy's turtleneck over her own, deciding to neglect the rest. It would be decent enough to at least give the enemy team pause. Enough time for her to escape.

Hiking up her trousers, she tucked the files and the Spy under her arm and grabbed the handle of the shutter door. She pushed it up, throwing it closed behind her.

For a second she was alone, and she dared to hope that she had been given a free pass out of their base.

Of course it didn't last.

The RED Soldier blinked into existence in front of her, his back to her. She couldn't even bat an eyelid before he was charging around the room, shrieking at the top of his lungs. Most of it was incomprehensible, the little she understood was insults towards her team, something about a 'switcheroo' and a bucket. Tracy was almost convinced he wasn't aware of her existence until he turned around, snapping into a salute. The smile on his face left her slightly disturbed, this Soldier seemed just a little bit... off. Hers wasn't exactly a rocket scientist, but he was never this unhinged. It was surreal to say the least.

"I SEE YOU CAME BACK WELL FROM YOUR MISSION SOLDIER! I ASSUME IT WAS A SUCCESS?" The man shouted. He wasn't very observant either; if he looked any closer he would noticed her trousers, cap, and gloves were all a cooler tone rather than the warmer hues her counterpart wore. At the very least his smile seemed genuine, like he was actually happy to talk to her. Tracy could feel a lump forming in her throat, and she quickly coughed to clear it.

She gave him a sheepish grin, subtly pressing her cargo against her side. She avoided making any sudden movements, not wanting to attract his eye to her goods. Even if he was practically blind with that helmet on.

Tracy cleared her throat again, fighting against another cough. "Y-You could say that. How are we doing out there?"

His expression shifted, only slightly. His smile faltered for moment before an even bigger one replaced it. He stepped to her side, dropping his arm across her shoulder in a friendly manner. "THE BATTLEFIELD IS AN UNFORGIVING MISTRESS, BUT I AM MORE THAN WILLING TO WHIP THAT MISTRESS INTO SUBMISSION!" She didn't know why he was shouting, maybe he was still running on an adrenaline high. It was starting to hurt her ears. She chuckled nervously, gently pulling away from him.

"Speaking of, I should get back out there. Don't want to let up on them, eh?" Tracy replied, attempting to fast walk away as fast as possible without being obvious.

She was a foot away from the door when she heard fabric shifting behind her. It annoyed her to no end how respawn was completely silent. She turned her head slightly, just so she could acknowledge the person before she left.

It was the Sniper, equipped with a bow and arrow, quiver on his back. His expression was unreadable behind those dark sunglasses. It was only a moment, but she knew. She feel his eyes on her uniform, noting how the coloring wasn't consistent, and then his eyes passed to her arm, trying to peer at what she held underneath. The hair all over her body stood on end, sweat gathering at her brow.

He made the first move, and quickly instinct took over. Her body reacted quicker than her mind as she grabbed the shutter door and tore it open, dashing outside. She was quickly followed, the Australian tearing out his Jarate as she approached the RED base door.

Just as she heard the sound of glass breaking overhead, she pulled out the little white pellets in her trouser pocket and threw the whole bag to the ground. Piss and milky white clouds of smoke hung in her wake as she booked it through the halls and back out onto the battlefield. She passed by the control point, ignoring everything as she ran to her base. She pulled off the turtleneck, grateful to remove the piss soaked item.

Tracy only stopped running once she was inside respawn, doubling over as she caught her breath. It took a moment before she didn't feel like hot acid was being poured into her lungs. She only stood up straight when she remembered the Spy trapped under her arm. She cringed at the image of being pressed up against her armpit.

Thankfully the documents had been untouched by the chaos moments ago, most of it had hit her back. Setting them down, she turned to the Spy.

Her heart stopped once she saw he was unconscious. The very little medical knowledge she knew would be useless here, taking his pulse would be useless when you didn't have a heart to beat.

Not wasting any time, she ran outside and screamed:

"MEDIC!"