Fuck, fuck, fuck, no, no, NO! This was bad, this was really, really bad. What was supposed to be an escape from Hardhat's oppression (is it so hard to punch a guy during sex? Really.) was quickly turning into a very dangerous situation. Scout struggled against the knee in his back. His brain shut down for a moment. He had never been stabbed in the back by the RED Spy, never had to feel cold metal splitting his skin there and making him bleed. All at once his brain began to work again. Fuck, he didn't want to be stabbed! He wasn't going to get backstabbed, not now! Not here and now, no fucking way. What… what would Hardhat think if he came up here to see a lifeless Scout corpse?
I'm not cheating on you, Hardhat. I swear to fucking God I'm not cheating on you.
I just wanted you to punch me.
Oh, how stupid that sounded.
Suddenly a sharp pain presented itself in his neck. Ow, what the fuck? The Spy was biting down hard into his neck, hard enough for blood to draw. Scout groaned, not really understanding anything. Why was the Spy biting him? Ow, fuck, and scratching him… Wait, Spies can take off their gloves? Scout had always thought that those were glued onto their hands or some crazy shit like---Ooow, fuck!
"Ngh…! F—fucker!"
Fucking don't bite his ear, fucking French idiot, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck!
"Ah!"
What? Wait, what? Scout brought a hand up to feel the side of his face, now drenched in warm liquid—blood, stupid—and painful as hell, but the Spy lent all his weight forward and came down onto the Scout's arm with his hand, blocking him.
"What the—! What'd you do? What'd you do, you fucking faggot?!"
Instead of being civil and answering him, the Spy decided to be an asshole and turn Scout onto his back before pinning him down again. One hand firmly on his chest and his whole body straddling the younger man, the Spy seemed oddly at home in this position. How many people had he tortured like this? Fucking cocksucker.
It was hard to hear out of his ear now, blood was running into it when he was in this position and it was the fucking WORST feeling ever because he couldn't move to fix it. But he could still hear the Spy chuckle darkly before he punched Scout in the eye. And again, and again, and again…
He couldn't see out of that eye now. He couldn't fucking see out of his own damn eye and it was all his fault and fuck, fuck… Hardhat. Come and save him, Hardhat. Be a fucking mind-reader for once and come save him. There's a Spah, for Chrissake, aren't you supposed to have a sixth sense for those guys? Fucking help, Hardhat…
His cheeks were all wet with his tears now. Aw, fuck…
"Come now, Cher. Would you prefer eef I deesguised as your preceece 'Ard'at?" The Spy's voice kicked Scout's brain into working again. Through the venom in his voice there was a mocking tone of pity that sent Scout over the edge.
"I'm gonna headbutt'cha!"
It probably wasn't the best idea to actually announce what he was about to do, but Scout didn't care. It seemed appropriate and fuck the guy who disagreed with him. He took the opportunity that he was given when the Spy looked down in mild confusion to rise up on his arms the best that he could and ram his head into the Spy's face. The resulting sound was a horrible crack that left Scout extremely satisfied. But before he could get caught up celebrating in a job well done, he remembered to lunge for his bat. Scout's hand wrapped tightly around the cool metal surface before swinging violently at the Spy. It wasn't until the blow had connected with Spy's face that Scout realized that he had actually grabbed the barrel of his scattergun by mistake. Damnit! Couldn't do anything when he was flustered. Fuck, his eyes were wet and he couldn't hear and he couldn't see and FUCK TURN THE GUN AROUND HE HAS HIS KNIFE!
The familiar crack of Scout's gun went off, and the Spy slumped down in front of him, dead. With the sudden silence, Scout heard how fast his breathing was, and he bet that his pulse was way above average. Fuck… fuck.
Very slowly, Scout began to dress again. The undies and pants were easy, and he already had his socks on. The shirt hurt, though, with all the bites and scratches and fuck, fuck, his ear… oh God, he bit off a chunk of Scout's ear… fuck…
He hated to admit it, but he had to go see Medic. Maybe the doctor would be kind enough to assist in disposing of a body, as well.
He could only hope.