[10:00 pm, first floor corridor, BLU base]

Side by side, Demo and Sniper walked the empty corridor of the BLU base.

Since the two had left the infirmary, neither party had said a single word. Sniper's expression was blank, a slight frown engraved on a stoic mask. Underneath his shades, it was hard to tell what the man was thinking.

Demo risked a concerned glance at him, swiftly looking away before he caught his attention.

Although he knew that he wasn't (completely) to blame here - he stil felt somewhat responsible for the entire situation. Quiet, tired, and disappointed in himself, the Demoman sighed.

...What's the use of vision if you refuse to see?

Since he was a mere child - the Demoman had only a single eye. By fate, magic, or chance - he had lost half of his vision. In losing his ability of depth perception, in losing half of a basic, simple function that most (if not all) able-bodied humans took for granted - the Demoman had discovered, and honed, one important skill.

Because he lacked in vision - he gained perspective. To understand the world, he needed to be able to see from more than one view. Through observation, abstract intelligence, and the ability to communicate and approach the living with an open honesty that others often hid, he had, time and time again - uncovered truths he should have never known.

Demo glanced away from before the path before him, willing away the awkward silence.

In a world where we rely largely on our eyesight to navigate the world - people are often surprisingly blind. We judge on what we can see - a surface-level of understanding that we can use to generalize information. Often, it takes a special bond between two people to see underneath the skin - beyond prejudice, beyond hierarchy - beyond a caricature of how you expect the world to behave.

He would know - being a black, orphaned, single-eyed kid in Scotland was hard. Definitely a more difficult childhood than he would have liked to admit. As much as he didn't want to - he stood out like a sore thumb. And although he knew that some people would absolutely relish any form of attention given to them - he did not. The spotlight that had been trained on him his entire life was absolutely blinding - and it haunted him, elusively dancing around him like dark shadows cast by a fire in a cave.

There is a difference, to be seen - and to be understood. He had known that. He had known that for a long time now. Yet, when faced with the loud, obnoxious personality of the Scout - he himself had refused to see.

The spotlight that the Scout seemed to shine on himself - through an exaggerated wide grin, through his obvious boasts that everyone knew were lies - it never cast a shadow. The Scout was never sad, never angry - never truly unhappy. But the Demo knew, as every merc did - that one often needed a special desperation to willingly volunteer to die - to kill.

Everyone could see the boy was lying. It was obvious. Yet somehow, nobody had tried to find out why. Nobody had listened to the boy - despite the trust they put in him and his work. Had the Demo not been extremely bored that day - had he not seen the Scout pass him in that exact place, in that exact time - nothing would have changed.

Deep in thought, Demo shook his head.

No. Although his eyes were trained on the ground before him, he kept the same pace with the Sniper - painfully aware of what he was probably thinking. Even if I didn't find him then - something would've happened, sooner or later. He's silent now… but that's it. The boy's alright. At least the lad's still-

"Well hello, men!"

A booming, jovial voice echoed from across the hall, startling the Demo out of his own thoughts. From the large doors that led to one of several supply rooms - this one in particular leading out to the desert entrance of the BLU base - an irritated Engineer supported a drunk, red-faced Soldier as he beamed at the two looking on. One arm slung over the shorter (but sturdier) Engineer, and one arm waving animatedly around in greeting, the Soldier declared his presence, in his usual, loud way.

"We have just returned from drinking!" He announced. "We have done nothing but drink American liquor all day!"

Beside him, the Engineer sighed loudly. "...Speak for yourself, boy." Valiantly supporting the taller man, his apparent irritation was clear through his dark goggles. "I had to drive."

For the first time in the span of a few hours, a slight smile found its way on the Demoman's lips. Demo knew that the Soldier had been, rather depressed since ceasefire began - although he had valiantly tried to hide it from his teammates. Despite his flaws (and lack of common sense), he was an honest man, and the Demo appreciated that of him. He had known about the Soldier's fallout with his RED Demoman - so out of respect, and (what he felt was) basic human decency - he had subtly avoided being around the Soldier, lest he remind the poor man of what had transpired with his counterpart. It was good to see him back - even temporarily - to his usual self.

"Have you men seen the Scout?" The Soldier continued, looking around from underneath his oversized helmet. "I heard that he was sad! I do not know why - but I wanted to help! So I have brought him a friend!"

Out of his breast pocket the Soldier proceeded to fish out something - gingerly producing what looked to be a small, living, creature. The animal - the lizard, to be specific - looked like a gecko of sorts, spots of brown markings covering a slim, yellow body. Perched proudly on top of the Soldier's hand, the lizard with a round, large head that seemed a bit too big for its body - was a rather cute little thing.

"She is a Western Banded Gecko!" The Soldier proclaimed, now beaming. "She is quite the runner - just like Scout! I am sure they will become the best of friends!"

The Demo, now fully smiling at the absurdity of it all - opened his mouth to speak. But before a word could come out of his own mouth - the Sniper spoke, a tinge of concern apparent in his quiet, raspy voice.

"...You guys haven't seen him?"

The Engineer frowned. "No? We left the base at around 6:00 in the evening. Soldier here noted that the boy's running shoes were gone - so we assumed that he'd be back by now." He paused. "...Are you sure you haven't seen him around?"

"No." Sniper pushed on. "I've been walking around the base until an hour ago - I think I would've seen him if he was in, by now."

The Demoman's brows now raised in question - whatever he had thought to say about the small gecko was quickly forgotten.

"That's odd..." The Engineer noted. "I'm pretty sure he was already out by the time we left -" He glanced at an exposed, worn-out wrist watch he often wore underneath his work gloves. "It's around 10:20 now."

Stunned silence befell the four men as they looked to each other - a dawning, unsettling realization hitting everyone present.

"...You gotta be fuckin' kidding me."

~oOo~

[10:45 pm, near the BLU base desert exit]

The night in the sandy badlands was surprisingly cold. Although there was very little wind, and no obvious signs of frost - the Demoman could feel his fingers freeze, as he clutched onto the flashlight he and the others had picked up from the supply room.

The four had marched about a one-mile radius away from the base towards the desert - where they suspected the Scout had run off to. As the lights in the distance slowly faded away, and what was left of the scarce civilization around them hid from their view, obscured in the darkness - the four had been searching, calling out for the Scout, all of their voices growing louder - and more urgent.

After the realization of the Scout's sudden disappearance, the Sniper spurred the rest into action. Not knowing where the rest of the team was in the base - he argued against the Engineer who wanted to reach out to the others - saying that long exposure the desert night, however well-prepared you could be for it dangerous. And in some cases, lethal.

The Sun had set somewhere around the last hour - early into 9pm. Assuming that the Scout had left the base somewhere before 6, he would have most likely already exhausted any resources he would usually bring with him on his regular runs - his single jug of water, although rather bulky, would not support him through a 5-hour run.

In the Scout's exposed locker, the Demo had noted that his jacket - a vividly colored windbreaker (on the back of the jacket was a white icon the shape of Australia, depicted on what looked like a round, blue shield) that the Scout often brought with him during late runs - was still on the coat hanger. These pieces of evidence - when put together by the four men - proposed a disturbing truth.

Demo gripped his flashlight tightly, scanning around the dark, empty plane that surrounded him as he hollered for the Scout.

Dangerously far from the Teufort station - far away from any light, any form of society that surrounded the vast desert - the Scout was all alone. Without so much as a jacket to shield him from the cold - without water, without even a light to guide his path - the Scout had isolated himself in silence.

Leading the team on, the Sniper and the Soldier marched quickly forward - as the Demo followed the two, scanning mainly their left, and the Engineer fell behind, making sure to look behind the team to see if they had missed anything.

Although he knew fully well about their urgency to find the boy - the Demo had questioned the Sniper about one, single thing.

Sniper made a valid point about the others in the base - the two parties, each having just arrived on the scene, didn't know where the other members of BLU could be. The base was deceptively massive - and finding everyone in the team to help search for the Scout would take time. Time they might not necessarily have.

Briefly, the Demo shook his head, in a weak attempt to rid him of his own doubts.

The thing is - both he and the Sniper knew the location of one member. Having just left the man's area of the base - it wasn't likely that he had ventured out of it, without the two noticing his presence in the hallway. The Medic remained in his station, in the infirmary, right down the hall from the desert exit.

Demo furrowed his brow.

At the time, he agreed with the Sniper's reasoning - when he had pulled him aside to ask about getting help from the Medic - this was what the Sniper had said.

"...He has another job to do." The Sniper explained quietly, in a strained voice that forced neutrality. "If the Scout happens to be in the base - if the Scout returns without our knowing - he would go to the infirmary. Kid doesn't have a choice - right now, it's the only place he can sleep in."

"Look," The Sniper snapped at the Demo as he saw the traces of doubt that lined his expression. "We don't have time. I- we couldn't help him. We've failed to, time and time again."

"...We gotta do our part, for his sake - we've already failed him, and we can't just stand around waiting for this shite to fix itself."

For a brief second, the Demoman glanced at the back of the Sniper walking before him. He was quieter than the rest - his eyes focused forward, far into the distance. There was a quiet urgency in the man's steps - the often relaxed man who took his long, leisurely time to move around, even in the midst of the battlefield - was now leading the team of four as he marched straight into the darkness of the desert.

The Demoman knew that he probably had his own reasons to care for the boy - his own thoughts behind the whole situation. Of everyone in the team, the Sniper had always been available to make the Scout feel welcome. Despite his obvious dislike for several others on his team (namely the Spy), he seemed to resonate with the boy - or at least, try to. Although he appeared aloof, crass, and careless to the feelings and situations of others - the Demo had known through the Scout - that he had always tried to bring the team together. In his own, clumsy way, the Sniper had supported the Scout, and the team, from his own, isolated perch on the sidelines.

Demo pursed his lips, grimacing as he held in a sigh that threatened to leak through if he dared open his mouth.

As much as he didn't want to think about it - he was starting to feel as if some of the Sniper's actions, and his words - didn't exactly line up.

There was an edge to his voice when the Sniper talked to the Medic - although the man hid his own emotions surprisingly well - the Demo couldn't help but hear a trace of hostility towards the good doctor.

...Maybe, it was defeat. Maybe it was projection.

Through some way or another, the trust of a boy he had been trying to gain for the longest time - a goal that the Sniper had been working towards - was attained, quickly and almost effortlessly by the Medic. It was just over a week, maybe two. In that short period of time - the Medic had seen, what none of the others got even close to noticing.

Although the Demo had agreed with the Sniper's reasoning as they left the base - leaving the Medic behind in the dark as they ventured to search for the boy - he couldn't help but wince at the thought of what it all implied.

If you were absolutely certain the boy had gone missing - if you knew the desert night was dangerous and possibly life-threatening - you would know well enough to bring a medical professional along with you, right? Although he had made the point that the Medic should stay behind in case the Scout popped up while they were gone - he idly wondered how wise it was to leave the Doctor - the Medic of the team, behind.

...Well, The Demoman thought to himself as he took another step forward. I guess we'll just have to hope that we're doing the right thing.

As the vast, quiet desert seemed to grow colder around them - Demo hoped that they weren't already too late.

~oOo~

[?:? pm, BLU base, infirmary]

A dimly lit lamp illuminating the darkness of the infirmary on the corner of his desk, the Medic worked quietly on his paperwork.

Emotionally drained, stressed, and just plain exhausted by everything that had transpired - he worked mindlessly on his medical reports. As a worn, black and white photograph of the Spy stared blankly at the Doctor - he heard the door squeak as it slowly swung open.

Behind the door - was the Scout. As the boy stood quietly by the door - his eyes wide and his mouth formed in a thin line of what looked like surprise - the Medic noted that he was still wearing his jacket from running outside. As he gazed on at the dull, washed-out colors of what looked like a red varsity jacket - adorned with a small, black and gold icon of a cheetah on his chest - he idly wondered why he had never seen the Scout wear that jacket before.

"...Guten Abend, Scout." The Medic said tiredly as he adjusted the small spectacles on the crook of his nose. "I think it vas about time we had a little chat."