The radio crackled noisily as it was tuned, until the music carried uninterrupted through the room. The Sounds of Silence played, fitting in Tracy's opinion. For a second she considered turning the radio off, or trying to find another station. But she settled on lowering the volume until the words were just barely audible, something to fill the real silence in the air. Despite the furnace pouring heat into the building, it felt chilly inside the base. Everyone knew what had happened, it even overshadowed the sudden loss of the match. Taking your Medic out during the middle of battle was a sure way to lose quickly. When she showed the Medic what had warranted his attention during such a pivotal moment, the expression on his face would have been comical if she had cared. All her attention was on the Spy, and whether or not he had just died. At the moment she was waiting to hear from the doctor about the poor dismembered rogue.

Scout had been the one to mouth off once he overheard the pair. The Bostonian had just been respawned, pulling his Boston Basher from his locker when he casually walked over and peered over their shoulders, getting a nasty surprise. His scream had alerted the first few, then his yammering attracted the others. It took the Heavy and Sniper to get him to shut up before they got a look.

Medic didn't give them any time to ogle and stepping down into his infirmary, asking no one save the Spy to follow him. Tracy cringed at the title as she handed the head to the doctor, avoiding eye contact with the Frenchman.

Sitting down on the couch, she picked a half burnt cigarette out of an ash tray on the table an lit it, taking her time to look around the room.

Demoman and Soldier were sitting beside her on the couch, the American chewing on his cigar angrily as he took apart his shotgun and put it back together again. He had obviously done this many times before, something he must have practiced during the second world war. Tracy knew he had volunteered, but apparently they wouldn't take him due to his inability to follow orders. But she thought he certainly had the dedication needed to protect their country, even if it was sometimes misplaced. Demo was taking long gulps from his bottle of scrumpy, talking quietly.

"Can'ae even imagine goin' through sumin' as horrible as that. What can we do?" He slurred his words more heavily than normal, out of turmoil or drink she couldn't discern. "Doc can't even give me a damn eye, how can 'e fix that?"

"We don't know yet, let's just wait and see." Tracy replied, trying to comfort the Scotsman.

"Heads are something you can't just screw back on," Soldier said bluntly, not looking up from his task. "I know, I got a pile of them in the back."

Tracy's face screwed up in disgust but she didn't reply, pulling a lungful of tar through her lips before blowing in back into the air. BLU Team's Soldier might have been a tad more reasonable in comparison to REDs, but they were clearly both unhinged. The Thief turned away, looking for a distraction.

Tapping the ash off her cigarette, she was surprised to catch sight of Scout and Sniper talking, speaking in hushed tones in the corner. It was shocking enough to hear the Scout not shouting for attention, but to be almost whispering? Really an accomplishment. Still needed some work though, she heard every word of their conversation.

"Man, I feel like I should be happy er somethin', but I just feel..." Scout gestured with his hands in a half shrug, struggling for the words.

The Sharpshooter adjusted the sunglasses sliding down his nose, his expression masked under the shadow. "Pity?"

"Uh, sure. I guess."

"..."

"..."

"You don't know what pity means, do ya?"

"I DO! Shaddap!" So much for quiet.

"Would ya calm down? I'm not callin' ya dumb." Tracy doubted that but decided not to mention it. "Pity means ya feel bad for someone, whether ya like 'em or not."

Scout rolled his eyes, "Fine! Yeah, I guess I feel bad for the guy. To be honest, I dunno how this is all gonna work out. I mean, if the doc gets a body for him then what? They gonna take turns or is he gonna get shipped out? Or is the other one... y'know, the one who didn't get his head cut off... gonna be the one who gets kicked out?"

"Don't think he'll get fired, if that's whatcha mean. 'Prolly get relocated."

"Whatever. Don't need THREE of those rat-bags runnin' around anyway..."

Sniper didn't respond, turning his head away from the younger man. Tracy blinked, surprised by the response. She wasn't sure why Scout was so flippant about the Frenchman. She knew they didn't exactly get along well, but she never knew exactly why. They were alike in a lot of ways, now that she thought about it. They both thought they were smooth, sly Casanovas who can sweep any woman off their feet, the only difference being only one of them was successful. Now that she thought about it harder, their similarities could be the very reason they despise each other so much.

That and the sneaking suspicion that the Spy was the Scout's father, but really, what would be the odds of that?

Letting out a loud yawn, Tracy stood up and wandered into the kitchen. Not particularly hungry, she just wanted to stretch her feet and see what everyone was doing. After what she had to do earlier, she didn't think she could eat anyways. The cigarettes didn't help that either, chasing any sensation of hungry far away. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

She stepped into the kitchen, suede shoes squeaking on the new tile. Thankfully most of their small luxuries were out of the way and locked up before battle, otherwise this place would have been destroyed long ago.

Tracy smiled as she greeted the Pyro, who was busy at the oven. Banana bread it looked like, good thing too, those bananas on the top of the fridge were looking pretty brown anyways. Throwing her cigarette butt in the trash, she took an offered piece and thanked the masked maniac. They waited expectantly as she took a bite, eager for her response. It was moist and sweet, the soft banana flavor covering her tongue. It tasted like home to her, something she realized she hadn't thought about in awhile.

It felt like years for her. How long had it been for the Spy?

"Hey, could I take some of these out for the rest of the guys?" She questioned, not exactly looking at the Pyro, lost in thought.

Pyro nodded, quickly making a tray of the snack. They handed her a plate, grabbing one themselves. Tracy gave them a small smile of gratitude, she really did appreciate the Pyromaniac's helpful if not over excitable attitude. Returning to the living room, Tracy began handing the treat out to her teammates. Sniper nodded in thanks, Scout took two, not really looking at her as he kept talking to the Australian.

Turning to look for the others, she found the Pyro handing out the bread to the Soldier and Demoman, so she left to find the rest. Taking quick steps around the corner, she turned to the dorms and found one door open. The room was small with two beds at either side, two dressers sitting at the foot of the beds. Sitting on one of them was the Heavy Weapons Guy, flipping through a large leather bound book.

"Sorry, am I interrupting?" Tracy stepped back. The Russian had an unreadable expression on his face, and while that wasn't unusual something in his eyes expressed a haunting sadness.

"No, sit." His booming voice was softer than usual. He pat the bed next to his, turning back to his book. Tracy scoot past him and sat down, unsure what he wanted.

Heavy cleared his throat and began,

"Here in a foreign land

I perform an ancient rite:

I free a bird from my hand

in Spring's cascading light.

The act consoles my heart,

how can I grudge God's will;

if I can grant, to some small part

of Creation, freedom, still?"

Tracy took a moment to consider his words, not exactly sure what he meant. The Russian picked up on this, giving her a small patient smile.

"Russian poet," He replied simply, "Tiny man was meant to help Spy."

She absorbed his words, thinking upon them again. Tracy felt uncomfortable for some reason, she didn't really want to be responsible for other people's lives, even if she had a job to do. Killing someone who was trying to kill you was one thing, but taking care of someone who was defenseless was a terrifying thought. She just didn't feel prepared for that, it felt a bit like playing God, and as much as Medic tried to make it sound fun she just didn't see the appeal. But the ending of the poem seemed a bit more comforting, at the very least she did bring him freedom. Being back there had brought back those horrible memories from Coldfront. Despite the wound being long gone, she felt the urge to rub her knee.

"I guess. Just wish we could do something for him." She finally spoke, her voice a little hoarse. Remembering the bread, she offered him a slice.

He nodded in thanks and took a piece, biting into it. Taking his book back into his hand, Heavy smiled softly. "Good bread. Tell leetle man did good job."

Tracy took that as her queue to leave, being careful to avoid the Russian's large feet as she stepped past him. Back in the hallway, she figured the Pyro must have gotten the rest of the team in the house. The only others she could think would be outside were the Engineer, Medic, and the Spies. Obviously didn't want to bother the doctor, so the Texan it was.

Popping into the living room, she made sure to let the others know where she was going. After Victor's little visit, she never felt fully safe outside after battle, at least RED was just as likely to kill him if he wandered out onto the field. Just as she was leaving, someone stepped outside after her. She turned around, relieved to see it was just the Soldier. His face was still grim, eyes hidden behind his helmet.

"I'm just bringing Engie some-" She began, but was quickly cut off.

"It is my duty to protect my team, and I have failed." His scratchy voice cut through hers, "I will not fail again."

She opened her mouth to reply, but closed it quickly. Tracy didn't know what to say. She wanted to comfort him, but she knew he would brush off anything she said. Instead, she gave him a grateful smile. Caught off guard, he couldn't help but smile back, but quickly schooled his expression into one of determination.

At night, Harvest seemed very calm, even relaxing. But for Tracy, she could feel something strange on the grounds. She didn't really believe in ghosts or anything supernatural, but there was something unnatural the closer she got to the center. Striking up a conversation, Tracy turned to the Soldier.

"Do you believe in the ghosts?"

He gave her a strange look and smiled, "I believe in the American spirit! And my roommate Merasmus talks to the dead all the time, so I guess they do exist."

Tracy stopped in her tracks. "Roommate?" She didn't know why out of everything in that sentence, that stuck out to her.

"Yes sir, we don't have to stick around all the time. I don't visit much, Merasmus didn't like how I greeted the mailman." Soldier growled, "If he was an American why couldn't he recite the pledge of allegiance backwards...?"

Deciding not to touch that, the pair continued to the Engineer's workshop. Tracy supposed she never noticed, but there had been times where her team had disappeared for awhile only to come back the day before a match. She never questioned it, assuming they were simply in another part of the base, doing their own thing. Then again, the two bases she had previously been were so large it was easy to get lost inside, so it wasn't a stretch of the imagination. She felt a little bit of jealousy at that, but quickly put it out of her mind.

Soldier knocked at the shed door, standing at attention. It took a second, Tracy assumed he was checking who was outside before finally opening the door. The Engineer stepped out, giving the two a small tired smile. The inside of the shed itself was extremely cramped, filled with little doo-dads and tools. There was a desk in the corner beside a small cot, littered with paper schematics. What looked like a metal lounge chair sat beside the desk, a small umbrella sticking over it. Waving them inside, the Texan offered them each a beer. Soldier took it without much thought, Tracy thanked him for the offer but she really didn't like the taste.

"Just stoppin' by to give you this, courtesy of our resident fire freak." She offered the plate to him. A small frown formed on his face as he heard that.

"Don't call m' names please."

Tracy blinked. "Sorry, I was only joking."

"It's alright, it's just some of the team poke fun at m' for... what 'e enjoys." He gave the Soldier a look, taking the plate from her. "They're a bit strange, but they're a good friend of mine."

She appreciated that about this Engineer. While he was soft spoken, at least he was a good friend and stood up for them. Taking a bite of the treat, he nodded his head at the flavor. "Ah, like Mama used to make."

The more she thought of home, the stranger she felt. Tracy missed home, she missed her mother, her old room, and even her old town even if half the people there knew what she had done. She had grown up there her entire life and leaving it had been terrifying, but now that she was out she didn't know if she could even go back. All of her experiences with these mercs had totally warped her perception of reality and she didn't know if she could function properly outside of it. The few times she had been in public, she had been hyper aware of those around her, viewing everyone as a potential hostile. Hell, half the time she even forgot her own name. Her class name was branded into her mind, taking up her old life. Tracy still knew who she was, but it felt like that was steadily slipping from her grasp the longer she ignored it.

Coming out of her stupor, she noticed the Soldier about to open his mouth when the crackle of static boomed to life.

"Herr Thief, could you please come down to my infirmary? Please bring the Engineer with you, I may need his expertise." The intercom near the shed door announced. "And don't dally."

Engineer raised his eyebrows, looking to Tracy. They both knew what that meant. Soldier however, didn't seem to know or care. He simply pointed towards the door, "You heard the man, I am your escort. Do not make me drag you there!"

She couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm, patting the Texan on the back. He joined her, a lopsided smile on his lips. The group of them left the shed, the Engineer taking the time to lock up before they made their way to the respawn. The light overhead was dim, covered in moths and other bugs. Tracy flinched as a large moth fluttered towards her face, stepping closer to the Soldier. She ended up bumping into him in the dark. The pair chuckled awkwardly, quickly stepping away from each other. The patriot seemed confused by his own reactions, but it was well hidden behind the helmet. He turned towards the Respawn, scratching his head. The shutter door was closed and locked during the night, needing a code to open it.

"Errr... One one one-" Soldier began typing in the code, but the Engineer quickly stepped in.

"Not this again, just let me handle it." He said, an annoyed chuckle breaking through his tone. "Zero, zero, two, three, four."

The shutter door rose and the three went inside, closing it behind them. The respawn was dark, light emanating from the infirmary below. They made their way downstairs, the only noise their footsteps and the hum of lights and hiss of air conditioning. As they stepped into the room, the first thing Tracy registered was the machinery surrounding a small metal medical table. From what she could see between, the decapitated head of the Spy was lying down on a flat pillow, several tubes and sensors attached to his face and neck. At the very least the Medic thought of his dignity, hospital curtains covered most of the gaps. There was shuffling to the left near the Medic's office.

"Ah, thank you for arriving so quickly." Out stepped the Spy she knew, a sarcastic tone in his voice. He looked very agitated, attempting to hold back biting words. "Laborer, you're needed with zhe doctor. Soldier... just don't touch anyzhing."

The BLUs scowled at the Frenchman, but said nothing. Engineer walked towards the Medic's office, grumbling the entire way. Soldier simply walked towards the door, leaning against the wall. His face betrayed little, but the corners of his lips curled into a sneer. Tracy shuffled uncomfortably, unsure what to do or how to hold herself. Whenever anyone was angry, she always clammed up and shrunk away.

"Thief, your mission was a... success. The Administrator has seen to it your existence has been allowed to continue." He snarked, the threat in his voice not passing over her head. Tracy hadn't really thought about what the punishment would be if she had failed. She just now realized how much of a chance she took trying to help the Spy. "Your services may be of use later. Right now you should see if zhe doctor has need of you."

Tracy nodded, not wanting to agitate him further. She walked quickly to the Medic's office, poking her head inside. The two intelligent men were hunched over notes the doctor had taken, speaking quietly to each other until they sensed her presence at the door. Medic was the first to look up, a friendly smile on his face. He was disturbingly jolly, taking too much pleasure in his job in her opinion. The initial horror of what had happened had worn off, and now the doctor was interested in seeing how the poor man functioned.

"Ah, my dear, right on time!" He stepped around the desk, clasping a hand on her shoulder. "I just need you for a moment, do be a good boy-" The look on his face when he said that word dragged a pout out from her, "and come with me, ja?"

Medic took her out of the office and into the circle of machines, the buzz of electricity in the air making her skin tingle. The Spy's head sat on the pillow, and Tracy was surprised to see him awake. His eyes flickered towards Tracy, slowly as if he were half asleep. "Ah, mon ange gardien..." The wires connected to him shifted as he spoke.

Tracy blinked, biting her lower lip. "Uh... is he okay? Or is he going to be?" Doves cooed overhead, a bird she recognized as Archimedes fluttered down from a light fixture and landed atop the Spy's head, sitting down as if it were nesting.

"Currently ve have him on a low charge, I did not vant to overload zhe poor thing. As for if I can attach him to another body... Vell, to be completely honest, I have no idea." Medic chuckled, shooing the bird away. "Transplanting a head onto a body is a very new science, finding a donor isn't a problem. Fusing zhe spine is the tricky part, especially since zhe wound has significant scarring. Since you spoke to him, I am assuming you have something you can tell me?"

She did her best, her memory was never the greatest, to tell him everything that the Spy had told her and what she had observed. The Medic nodded along, pursing his lips and rubbing his lower lip.

"Pffft, transitory batteries? Archaic but I suppose it is a sufficient power source. I did know that RED had been the first to create the medi-gun, but I had no idea HE was the first." Medic scowled, glasses falling down his nose. The dark look in his eyes scared her. "If what the Spy says is true, I do not believe I could reattach him to a normal body."

He explained that the fluid powering the medigun was hyper oxygenated. If he was right, the Spy's brain was producing its own blood like some sort of super-organ, keeping itself alive. The only thing he required was an electrical charge to keep blood flowing through his veins, apparently that metal disk he had been attached to was responsible for that. Tracy felt regret coiling in her stomach, but she couldn't think of any other way they could have made it out of there alive.

"So there's nothing?" Hopelessness creeped in, "He's gonna be stuck like this?"

"Not necessarily."