A/N: GUESS WHO GOT A STUPID IMAGE PICTURE? ME! I DREW MYSELF! … It is horrible! You can barely tell it's fifteen-year-old Scout…. Aw well. It's there until I find a better one, so what'evs I guess... Anywho, here's chapter 2. ^-^

Anyways, I don't mean to sound pathetic, but… CAN I PLEASE HAVE SOME REVIEWS?! It helps me! Really! :( Especially Constructive Criticism, as I wanna improve.

All that said… I do not own TF2. I wish I did. But I don't. With all that outta the way, I hope you enjoy this chapter. :D

Seven pairs of eyes were now on Scout, all waiting expectedly for the runner to begin his story. Angry at himself for squealing about his leaving of his original home, and now being pretty much forced to reveal everything about his past to his teammates, Scout frustratedly collected himself and wondered where to begin. Now, he was no genius, but he figured that when you tell a story, you should start from the beginning. A scowl crossed his features. This was gonna be a long day. Scout sighed once again, and began his tale.

"Here we go," frowned Scout, "'Kay, once upon na time, dere was a perfect fam'lly. Da Pa was a mechanic, and da Ma was a part-time waitress, part-time stay-at-home-mommy. Da two 'a them 'ad seven little shits. Dey was happy. Den I got born an' every'thin went ta hell. De end."

"Scout," growled Sniper, with an unamused look.

Scout rolled his eyes. "Fine… Da seven little shits were all muscular, with either dere fathah's golden hair an green eyes, or dere ma's coal hair an' coal eyes. All of 'em were either real muscular or book smart, or artistic in a few cases. Sumtimes all three. Perfect family, with perfect children. …Den I was born. An' as you can plainly sees…" said Scout, gesturing to his brown hair, blue eyes and wiry frame, "I was a bit different. I was doomed from da beginnin' I guess. Unlike my tough broth'ahs, like Reese, I was born ta run, not ta play football. And unlike the real keen ones, like Johnny, I wasn't book smart, neither, an' unlike Seth or Lukas I couldn't do shit with paint or instruments. So… What to do wit' myself? All I did as a kid, most'a the time, was play alone. Usually in da cellar, or da attic, 'cause I was the only kid in da house who wasn't afraid of the furnace, or a'lergic ta dust."

Scout looked down to the wood for a second as he thought nostalgically back to the misadventures he had as a child with his imaginary friends and their little kingdom in the quieter corners of his house and the whole city of Boston. He had been the King, the made up creatures had been his friendly subjects, and he had played with them every day after school for hours on end. All the good times he had with them… He couldn't help but sadly smile as he remembered his lame scenarios and the childish innocence he had back in those days. But the memory quickly departed, as he had an audience to continue talking to.

"…Yeah, I was kinda alone back den... Just ta add ta th'ah fun, Pa had the humor of an F.B.I agent an' no matt'ah what I did, 'e was never impressed wit' me… I tried so hard to impress 'im… But he just wanted nothin' ta do wit' me. Den dere was Ma. And Ma… She wasn't mean, or nothin', but… She was always busy. She nev'ah had time f'ah me. Sure, she held me a few times… But whenever she looked at me, it was like I hurt 'er some'ow, when I didn't do nothin'… She made me feel guilty f'ah no reason. And it hurt. It hurt a lot."

Medic noticed something: Upon getting into the discussion of his mother, Scout's gaze had hardened, and he had begun to tighten the bandages on his hands. A habit he had whenever he was tense. And his teammates knew it all too well. Scout usually did this whenever an 'Auto-Balance,' had been announced, or when the atmosphere was bleak, or when he was downright scared. This, being such a sensitive topic for Scout, was completely understandable.

Medic, coming from a family that chose to ignore him as well due to his… Interests… Related nearly entirely to Scout. But it was then Medic noticed another thing; After dozens of checkups, operations, and experiences on the field, he had never seen Scout's hands without the bandages wrapped around them. Oh great, another question: What was under the cloth, exactly? He figured he'd ask at a more appropriate time.

Scout continued.

"I got the idea ta run away when I was nine. But, since the thought scared me at da time, I stayed. I still thought about it, though. I would've been alone in da cellar f'ahevah… But shortly after, things looked my way for a bit. One of my brothers finally noticed me as more than just the untalented runt of the family, more dan jus' a kid: A friend. Dat broth'ah was Ritchie. Da third oldest… Oh my god, Ritchie… Me an' him did every'thin ta'gethah. He's da one who got me in'ta baseball, too," Scout began smiling ear to ear, remembering all the times he fondly waited for his brother after school and having fun with him, "We wrecked stuff, played pranks, went explorin', an' just had a ton 'a laughs, ya know? Man, I rememb'ah dis one time where… Where…"

Scout's joy left as soon as it came, as he then remembered the sad events that followed.

"Well… I de-gress. One day, when I was twelve, Ritchie had gotten 'imself a job. Lat'uh, I found out that 'e was actually working 'ere as a RED Scout in some Unit specialized in stakeout Ops, but for th' sake 'a th' rules of tellin' no one aside new recruits about the Secret Wars, he told us a cover-up story dat 'e was in, 'Demolition.' Everyone was proud-a him. …But 'e was outta town a lot, because it was far away. I was so upset, an' I tried ta run away again, but Ritchie insisted dat he did care about me… So I stayed. But it still sucked. He visited whenever 'e could, and he sent lett'ahs a lot, but… I just wasn't the same as seein' 'im every day, y'know? Also, just ta add ta it, I was havin' a shit time at home, an' a shit time at school, too. Ma wasn't home as often, an' neither was Pops. Which left me all alone wit' my brothahs, who all either ignored me or fought wit' me. So… I spent most'ah my time alone outside, getting my anger out on other people. Went from being bullied to being a bully. Sure, I had a couple friends here an' there, like this guy who helped at Grocery store named Darrel, or dis old lady named Michelle, but, well… I wasn't that close ta them. This continued till I was thirteen, 'bout a month away ta goin' on fourteen… Then… Then it happened."

Scout shuddered at the memory and felt his eyes sting.

"Apparently, at Ritchie's, 'workplace,' dere was a gunfight, an' 'e was stuck in da middle of it… Bullet nicked 'is fuckin' heart…" tears began streaming off Scout face, "We threw a funeral for 'im… An' dat was it for me. I made a plan to run ta Chicago, and about a month of plannin', it worked. Then about two years late'ah, I met up wit' da Administrator and got the job here."

Scout didn't speak again for a long time. He left out the part of the story where his father comforted his brothers with a speech about each of them, and a giant hug, assuring that they were a family and that they'd move on… While leaving Nathan out, and not including him in any part of it. Just the sheer fact his father had forgotten him, during such an emotionally traumatizing moment, was enough to make him start sobbing. Scout had also left out the part of Nathan running off into the rain, miserably and crying his eyes out, only to notice the rain had stopped, and to look up in the sky to see nothing but a giant, fucking Rainbow. A happy, magic thing, laughing at him as if it wanted to rub it in his face. A month later, he had ran away, and lived in Chicago for a bit Things had been smooth for a while, but after about a month of hiding, the police had finally caught him. He thought he was toast… Then he met the Administrator, who got him out of the police's hands. After getting to safety, she had then offered a deal; To join the Mann Wars as a mercenary for RED. At first, he refused, thinking it was just nonsense. Then, she revealed that Ritchie had been working for her before he died. He had been shocked. She had given him Ritchie's old Scattergun, files and dog-tags. Also, just to add to the list of reasons to enlist, if he joined, he wouldn't have to worry about the police trying to take him home ever again, as he'd be protected by the Company. After looking through the files of his brother, he realized how awesome it was. And who was he to refuse safety from the police, an enormous paycheque, honoring Ritchie's name and to be havin' fun while doin it all? And so, taking Ritchie's old Class – Nathan had died, and had been reborn as a Scout.

"An' now you's is up ta speed," said Scout, wiping the tears away, "De end."

No one said a word.

"So… Do… Do any of ya got any idea as ta how I can gets outta dis?" Scout pleaded, "Any idea? At all?"

Still silence.

Finally, Engineer cleared his throat.

"Son, I had no idea you'd been through that much shit, but… Ah don' think there is a way out," said Engie, somberly, "You should go home, an' see your ma."

Scout gave Engineer a horrified look, which almost immediately turned into intense rage. How dare he. How dare he. He had told them the story of his life, told them about all the shit he had been through, and that was all the advice he had?!

"GO BACK!?" snapped Scout, infuriated.

"I'm tryin' ta help ya," reasoned Engie, being patient as he always was with Scout, "I'll be honest with ya, Scout: Yer life was shit, and yer mad at yer Mother fer not helpin' ya through it, I can completely understand that. But, the lady's gotta be real upset about it if she wants you to come while she's on her deathbed, ain't she? If she wasn't, we wouldn't be havin' this discussion, now would we?"

Scout thought it over for a minute. Engie did have a point. Perhaps his Ma was sorry.

"Look, ya need ta settle th' score with yer family. Runnin' away ain't gonna solve nothing. After all, ya cain't run free with loads a 'guilty baggage dangling from yer shoulders, can ya?"

Scout gave a slow, emotionless nod in understanding.

"So, ya see em once, and when the event's over, ya come right back ta us, an' you'll never half'ta see 'em again. Don't that sound nice?"

"…You got a point…" mumbled Scout, grudgingly.

"Rioght," smiled Sniper, supporting Engie and Scout, "So, we'll tell the Administrat'ah about the situation, since I'm pretty sure this falls under a good category to put us on standby for a while, and you get a handle on your family situation. It sucks, but ya gotta remember that they're yer family, kid. An' it's only for a few weeks, anyway. Then ya come back, an' every 'thin goes back'ta normal, al'rioght?"

Scout nodded, though it was forced. It was forced, because Sniper had it all wrong. The cold people in the ugly, blue house, 28th on Merle Street, were not his family, for the eight, crazy Mercenaries he fought with on the battlefield with were. Engie was like the daddy who supported you and kept you safe, Soldier was like the crazy grandfather who'd snap and start ranting about how hard things were when he was a kid and how well off you were in comparison, Heavy and Pyro were like fun brothers to pull pranks with, while Spy was like the cynical, cool older brother whom you'd snicker at people with behind their backs with. Medic was like the weird uncle who hid in the basement, but was still there to share with you and tell you about the things he had discovered, Demo was like the awesome uncle who got you odd souvenirs and told you stories that blew your mind, and Sniper was like the adventurous uncle who brought you along for explorations to the middle of nowhere and had your back at all times. Being told that suddenly he was to forget about them and reconnect with his old family was an atrocious thought to him because of how strong a bond he had formed with these guys. But they had a point: He had to tie the loose ends. Then he and the team could be together - hopefully forever.

Soldier put a firm, calloused hand on Scout's shoulder.

"Son, if it helps… We can go with you to Boston if you want. We'll camp out in a hotel nearby, or something like that, and be there if things get to ugly for ya… If that's ok with ya."

Yes, he would've loved it. He would've loved nothing more than knowing the guys were behind his back at all times. …But he knew he had to say no. This was his problem. His baggage. It was his responsibility to toss it. Besides, he knew these people. They wouldn't like being in Boston, and they'd probably barge into his house during dinner to introduce themselves. And, knowing how, 'traditional,' his old man was, he'd kick them out after three minutes and afterwards, do what he would to make sure his son was as far away from them as possible. His Dad didn't like to listen to his son, but he didn't want him near any, 'bad influences.' After all, Clark Hawthorne was a complete dick in every sense of the word.

"No, Sold'ja. Danks for the off'ah though, it… It means a lot ta me."

Soldier gave a gruff nod and drew his hand away. Medic looked over to Scout from the other end of the table, and pushed his lenses towards his eyes.

"Vill you be alright?" he asked, seriously. The boy gave a small nod in response.

Scout pushed himself up from the table, plate empty.

"Bett'ah get packin', huh?" asked Scout, dreadful expression ever apparent on his face.

Everything happened within a few hours. Medic had informed the Administrator of the news, and the woman had grudgingly agreed to Scout's temporary departure, as long as he returned ASAP after his Mother died. The team was to remain on indefinite standby until then.

Scout had packed his few belongings, just like how he had done that night so many moons ago, and looked out his window to the sandy seas of Dustbowl with longing. He wanted to run… Not pack to go to the one place he hated most. But he knew better. Scout bitterly threw in some comic books as he reconsidered the whole thing. Going was the right thing to do… But why did it feel so wrong?

At the strike of eight fifty PM, everyone piled into Sniper's van and drove off, with the exception of Spy. No one could find him anywhere. Scout was quite curious as to where the French spook had gone, but he figured he had 'Spy stuff,' to do elsewhere, and had 'forgotten' to leave a note again. After a long ride through the desert, the RED Unit unfortunately arrived at the station.

They piled out of the van and onto the Train Station. Scout shuffled slightly in his boots at the wooden train platform as the train pulled up next to them.

"So… Dis is it?" he asked, quietly. Everyone gave a sad nod.

Pyro gave Scout a hug.

It was then that the Bostonian couldn't hold it in anymore. He started crying.

"I-I DON'T WA-WANNA FUCKIN' G-G-GO…!" He sobbed, squeezing Pyro, much to the firebug's and everyone else's surprise, "I w…wanna stay with… You g-g-guys… …F-Fuck… Fuck my old family! You guys're… Da closest t-thing I got to one… Don't m-make me go back!" He began wailing, tears began streaming off his face as he kept bawling pathetically, like a small child. He didn't want to leave. Not now, not ever.

Heavy put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Ees Ok," he said warmly through his ridiculously thick accent, "We will be here for leetle Scout when he gets back. Ees only for short time, da?"

Scout cried a little bit more, but it eventually died down to being sniffles.

"Righto, lad," smiled Demo, "We're just a telephone call away, and it'll be alright in th' end, yeah? So… Dry them tears and stop cryin'."

Scout wiped them away.

"Besides," grinned Soldier, "It's not, 'Goodbye,' it's, 'See you again soon,' right?"

Scout smiled a little. "Yeah… You guys are right."

"You had best get going, Kaninchen, za Conductor is getting impatient."

Scout wiped away one last tear, and stepped into the train car. He watched as his teammates went farther and farther away until they were completely out of sight. Part of him wanted to keep crying, but he ignored it. He sat down in the cushiony seat of the train booth and got himself comfortable. He knew that they were indeed just a call away, and, like they said, a few weeks wasn't a very long time.

With this in mind, Scout tipped the rim of his cap, and went to sleep.

A/N: I have a feeling that the last scene was a bit over-dramatic back there…

Anywho, I hope you all liked it! :)