It took him a good fifteen minutes before he could bring himself to call for the Medic. It wasn't just that the man's unorthodox methods scared him, which they did in droves, but the gravity of the whole situation had to sink in and now, he figured, was as good a time as any. He flopped back down onto the carpeting and convinced himself that Penny had never existed - that he had been here way too friggin' long and that the long nights and head trauma had finally gotten to him in the worst way possible. As the room began to darken he had finally convinced himself that he was just going crazy - the shadow of the Medic entering his field of vision in a blurry haze - and the first thing he needed to do once the room stopped spinning was get himself the hell out of here. Get back home, back to Boston. Back to Ma and the boys and the shit shine of the real world. German accents and Southern voices prodded at his aching skull, and Scout watched with only a passing interest as he was lifted up and shuffled through the dim corridors, down into the underbelly of the fort, towards the searing halogen lights of the infirmary.
You're just crazy, man, he told himself in the spinning darkness. Just real fuckin' crazy.
"...Whatddya think, mate? Should we be a little suspicious of this turn of events?"
"I zee no reason to be. Alzo I don't agree vith 'eem most of ze time, I trust herr Spy on zis matter. If anyone should be zuzpicious it is him, and he zeems very... content." A light scoff rattled Scout's senses, his head still buzzing in a drug-induced effervescent hangover.
"Doc, I think we're all pretty content."
"Zat aside, I zee no threat zat, if necessary, we cannot exterminate." An eerie chuckle reverberated throughout the room.
"Right on that."
The sleepy darkness of his blackout finally began to fade, sounds and noises coming together semi-coherently into familiar shapes and forms, and with an unrestrained groan Scout fought tiredly to pull open his still-heavy eyes. The halogen lights of the infirmary seared his hazy consciousness, but despite the burning halos and blurs he could still make out Sniper poised lazily at the end of his bed, sunglasses dangling from his half-unbuttoned shirt and hat in hand. He turned his attention towards the rousing boy with an unimpressed stare, shooting him a wiry smirk.
"There we are, then. Didn't think you could sleep all the way to the next mission, didja?" Medic too entered his field of vision, head held disapprovingly, and gave him a perfunctory once-over.
"Get up and valk." He snapped, inspecting the wrappings Scout now discovered wound tightly around his right leg like a half-hearted mummy. He grumbled weakly, pulling himself up onto one elbow, and hung a limp hand over his eyes to shield them from the blindingly institutional lighting.
"Nice to see you too, doc." Medic scoffed in reply, yanking the sheets from his bed in a sudden flurry of ice cold air.
"Now." With a muttered curse he finally obliged, stumbling out of bed and stretching out his aching muscles before taking a few meek steps forwards. His body felt like an old kid's toy - stiff and achy in places that he couldn't even remember being hurt in, but he knew better than to ask the much-mocked question of "what happened?" It was the same thing, he knew, that always happened - it was war. He turned back to Medic with a fiery glance that asked "now what?", throwing out his arms to accentuate his point. "Further. Valk to ze door and back." With another heavy sigh Scout lumbered towards the infirmary door, his joints cracking audibly, before pivoting sloppily and walking back. Medic watched with a critical eye, face devoid of all expression beyond that of a professional coldness.
"Anything else, yer highness?" He grunted, taking a seat on the edge of the bed with a disgruntled thunk.
"Zay what you vill, boy, but ven I found you you veren't even able to move zat leg." Scout raised an eyebrow, inspecting the bandaged limb with a curious glance - had it really been that bad? A few hours ago he would have thought that falling did nothing more than bruise your ego, but now, struggling with the medicinal-tinted aftershocks of bandages and breaks, his perspective began to morph.
"He's right, mate." Sniper cut in, nodding wearily in agreement. "Broke that ankle clean through the skin. You were in rough shape before doc here fixed ye up." He shifted his weight from one foot to another in a noiseless sway, tucking his thumbs into the belt of his pants. Scout glanced up at the Australian and found his stare met with a gruff concern. And here it was - he had been dreading this moment ever since Sniper had saved his skin, and before the words had even left his mouth Scout knew what he had to face. "I've never seen you fall like that during a match before. And we've known each other quite a while." He added the last part as a subtle afterthought, but he was right - Sniper had been here only a few weeks longer than he had and in all the battles they had faced together never once had he taken a tumble. Scout's footing was the one sure-fire thing in the madness of those battles - now, though, there seemed to be so little left. "Ya alright, kid?" Scout rubbed his bruised temples with one outstretched hand, flicking the sleep from his eyes wearily. How exactly do you go about explaining what he dreamt up? Sure, they've all been here a while, but nobody else has let the imprisonment get to them so obviously and in such an...unusual way.
"Yeah," he mumbled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Just got a lot on my mind is all." Medic let out a sharp crack of laughter from his seat on the other side of the room. Scout hadn't noticed him walk away and found him now filling out paperwork with a terrifyingly steady hand.
"God knows ve all do now." Sniper gave a low hum in agreement, averting his eyes from Scout's confused glance. He tossed looks between the two men before him, neither bothering to meet his stare. Don't all explain at once, he thought gruffly.
"Now? Whaddaya mean now, doc?"
"Ah, you vere unconscious when she showed up, I zuppose." His words rung out hollowly against the white tile of the room, each word hitting Scout once and then again in echo like a 1-2 KO punch. His heart dropped in his chest, leaving a warm shiver deep in his bones that he just couldn't seem shake off. She.
"Aye," Sniper interrupted, drilling more proof through his carefully constructed facade. "We've got ourselves a girl 'round here now. A real doll. Demo found her towards the end of the match in the intel room. Watched as she beat a BLU Heavy with our own intel case." He coughed out a laugh, flicking at his lip with a dirty thumb. "Real feisty one, she is." Scout froze in a dizzying head-rush, jaw slack, and suddenly all those thoughts that had plagued him during battle - every silly emotion that had caused his weakness, his dizziness, his falls - they all came flooding back.
"A...a girl?" He stuttered, his voice cracking slightly to his own surprise.
"'At's right. Says HQ dropped her off to repair a tripped camera mid-battle. 'Goes without saying that no one thinks they're comin' back." Before he could stop himself he fumbled to pull on his trainers, picking them up from the tangled mess of his belongings on the floor next to the infirmary bed. "She still around?" He asked between knotting laces, only bothering to shoot his teammate a quick glance. Sniper watched on to his ambitious re-dressing with a suspicious grin which Scout could only imagine the connotations of.
"Sure, sure. Was down in the washroom last I heard." He hummed. "I'm not sure it's such a good idea that you should pay her a visit, though, mate. You don't seem quite right, if you don't mind me saying." He paused briefly as Scout stood up, grabbing his hat and duffle bag in one quick motion before meeting him eye to eye. It was the first time he had paused fully since the mention of the girl.
"Yeah, you're right." Scout shot, eyes locked securely with the man before him. "You pee in fuckin' jars and I'm not quite right." He flashed his teammate the slyest of smiles, pulling his baseball cap back onto his head with a quick flick of the wrist. "If you don't mind me sayin'." Sniper smirked in reply, watching on with a smile as the boy before him shot past the protests of Medic and down the hall at a typical full-speed sprint.
Well, I'll be, he hummed to himself, arms laced across his chest. Scout was back.