The rain had long since stopped, but the desperation in Scout's increasingly more prevalent subconscious had staggered itself into a filthy muddling of anger and worry—Sniper, the one who'd so easily cast him aside, who seemed not to care at all about what would come from leaving Scout in the forest without provisions.
He stands up and buckles the belt after his trousers are secured around his waist again, Scout wandering with an unenthusiastic exhaustion toward the side of the road, cross armed and lips pressed together as he thinks of a way out of all this. He couldn't just stay in the forest all day and grumble his problems away whilst his bum sat submerged in mudddied water—or doing so certainly wouldn't take care of the problems themselves.
Scout kicks the ground, his eyes widening however as an actual car approaches—the exterior still some distance away, though visible as the long roads of the west are prone to allow.
Sticking his thumb out hopefully and praying to God he doesn't get stuck with some creeper—or that they don't ignore him, Scout bites down on his lip and his pupils follow the alight curve of the car as it does indeed get closer, slowing in its speed, making it quite clear that it does notice him—
And sure enough it does indeed start to slow some feet away, Lawrence jogging his way over, spirits elevated. "Oh thank God!" Scout beams, making his way to the idling automobile, eyes widening as he catches a glimpse of the interior. "Scout! Vat in zhe Hell are you doing out hier—?!"
"YO! DOC!" Scout grins, rushing to the light blue car he presumes to be Medic's, the sleek exterior meticulously clean, the tail pipe emitting hardly any exhaust at all. He beams at the older German, placing his bandaged hands in a generous wave.
"Why leetle Scout in rain all alone?!"
Scout grins as he pokes his head into the rolled down window, meeting the faces of Mikhail and Heinrich hopefully. "Holy shit, guys!—Man, am I glad to see you two—! Mind if I slide in the back?" Scout grins as the German nods curtly."Yes, Junge, get in!" Heinrich nearly shrieks, there being no need to tell the shivering Scout twice—The young man sighs lightly, laughing disbelievingly at the sheer odds of his luck.
"Man, you guys! Holy shit! This is freakin' crazy! Runnin' into you guys! You've—You've saved my ass—!" Scout laughs, his bottom squeaking as he shifts inside the car, his wet clothes sliding along the rubbery back seat.
"I though I was a goner! Seriously, out in the rain with nothin'! I owe my life to you, Deutschbag!"
"So it seems! You will be lucky zat you do not catch a cold!" Medic glares sternly at the boy in his rear view mirror, Scout chuckling as Mikhail sits in the passenger seat next to him, a sandwich in his hand, his face content, lips upturned in a wobbly smile.
"Yeah, yeah—"
"How in all ze vorld did you get out here?!"
"'S a long story, Fritz, let's just say I got into it with my cheuffeur," Scout mutters darkly, Heinrich raising an eyebrow. "You could say I got kicked off the bus for gettin' into it with the driver—"
"And vhere vere you trying to go—?!"
"Y'know, just...up," Scout replies dully, and he winces at how dumb of an explanation he provides. "Your story leaves much to be explained, Junge—"
"It don't matter, either way dude left me on the side of the road with no money or food, I don't even know where the Hell I am—!"
"You are in Montana, a good vay avay from 2fort—I von't pry, but I must qvestion your judgement if you are hitching rides vizhout money or knowledge of vhere you are, especially if it leads to me finding you on ze side of ze road!"
"Yeah, yeah, doc—where're you'n lard fat headed?!"
"Ach—ze Engineer has invited us all to spend leave at his ranch—you vere invited of course, but obviously you had plans of your own—"
"Yeah, pretty much—"
"You're lucky no one tries to hurt you," Mikhail explains gravely, turning in his seat to face Scout. "Many people claim to give free rides, then drag boy or girl into forest and keell them—"
"'s what y'all're gonna do to me, huh?!"
"Ach, vat a disgusting zing to joke about—!" Heinrich scoffs, and the two others share a brutal grin. "So what's the plan, Deutschbag—?"
"Scout, put—on—a—seatbelt—!"
"Alright, alright, quackers, calm that down!" Scout scrunched his face, letting the small click of the contraption echo, Scout's face drawn back in mock surprise as he waits for approval from the disgruntled German currently carting him about. "It is up to you—I could take you vith us to ze ranch of course, or drop you off somevhere along ze vay..." Heinrich explains, Scout sighing as he rationalises his options, the obvious choice being to stay put with his comrades. "Alright, yeah—I don't got no money or clothes, though,"
"It is not so schlimm—I am sure Rick vill have clozhes to lend you at zhe ranch, and I vill give you some money as long as you promise to return it to me upon arriving at 2fort," Heinrich explains in what Scout thinks is meant to be a warm and endearing tone, the doctor however about as gentle as a rusty saw. "Hey, thanks," Scout grins, and Scout leans forward, resting his arms against the back of Mikhail's seat.
"So what's up—you can't drive or you're not allowed to leave Doktor Mama's sight?!" Scout roars with laughter as the burly Russian forms a soft "oh!" face, his lips round and his eyes wide. Scout swears he sees a slight smirk curl along Medic's lips; not that he would ever tell them his own "Mama Sniper" had established the very same rule for himself.
"I crash automobile long time ago—since before coming to USA—!"
"Guess you Soviets can't drive, huh?! Must be all the radiation," Scout teases, the heavy man glaring at Scout's playful snarl.
"I drive many tanks in Great Patriotic War—tear apart tiny German baby men—!" Mikhail's laughter booms so loudly it causes Heinrich to jump.
"They all come—I say—'Who will come to fight me—?!' and they all run away! Haha!" Mikhail laughs a gutteral laugh of triumph, Scout somewhat certain the Heavy's private recollection of how his stature single handedly assured Soviet victory over the Nazis is less than accurate.
"Ach! Do not compare Germany to zhose National Socialist monsters! You vill give ze Scout a bad impression of our people!" Heinrich scoffs, and Scout yawns as Mikhail gasps, having sparked one of the millionth USSR/Germany debates he's witnessed since becoming a comrade of the two older men some three years ago; Scout loved the way their conversations always led to this...
He'd always wondered how the two men became such jarringly good friends —though Scout always wondered whether something a little more than friendshiphid itself behind their interaction—as, after all, it was only some twenty years ago the two nations were raping and pillaging the vastness of Europe and its people, shattering the world in hateful rivalry...
Not to mention Heavy's proud service as a Red Army tank Ace, and Medic's own forced draft into the war serving as a Wehrmacht field medic. Scout had questioned what it was that brought them so close together—yet his cheeks warm up as he thinks of Jack, and how, somehow, war simply had its way of bringing the unlikely together.
"...ve vere really so vicious and all so evil like you say, zhen vhy did I sneak across ze field for you every day, healing you ven our rifleman shot you in zhe stomach—?!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa—! What's all this about, Doc?!" Scout asks incredulously, Heinrich clearing his throat before explaining valiantly.
"I vas drafted into ze Wehrmacht ven I vas just twenty zree years old— I had been a medical student in Stuttgart, and vas part of an active underground Anti-National Socialist student group. Ze Gestapo caught word of our activities—"
"Spare me, doc, get to the part where you saved Heavy's ass!" Scout grins, and he can see Medic's upturned nose in the rear view mirror.
"In order to avoid persecution, ve members of ze union could not refuse ze draft to ze Eastern Front—of course you couldn't refuse no matter what—! And so I was sent to ze Front as a Medic! Some of ze men in my Squad fought for ze Führer, vhile ozers did not, but instead fought for vat little of zheir homeland had not been maimed by zat madman, zheir country, all ze vhile praying for an Allied victory to put a stop to ze slaughter—!"
"Boring—!"
"Ve vere engaged viz ze Soviets! Our skvuad had zeir's met on every side—a small triumph for us—! But one day I got lost from my company—ze Heavy found me—I vas unarmed—zey had stormed our stronghold and vere coming to investigate for survivors; surely to kill zem! But ze Heavy stared down at me ze whole time, stopping his comrades from finding me. He goes to lift me up, and he takes me to zhe village vhere he had come from,"
"Doktor," Heavy whimpers, Scout shushing him and leaning forward.
"It vas ze very same village my company had occupied just days before ze Soviets regrouped and attacked," Medic explains gravely, Scout nodding for the man to continue.
"Ve had orders to round up all Jews of ze village and put zem onto the trains ze Reichsbahn had dispatched. I hid zem all, claiming to Herr Oberst it vas a "Jew free" town. Boz of us vere completely separated from our companies—zey must've zought ve vere fallen, no one came to search on our behalf—I did not speak Russian, but I could understand ze vord 'doktor' nonezeless—and he grabbed my hands, zhanking me in terrible German for saving his mozer's life—I offer to help him find his company—but instead ze dummkopf claimed he did not vant to leave me—"
"I would not leave Doktor," Mikhail grunts in confirmation. "Not after Doktor save my family and village,"
"Ven ve returned to ze village, it turned out it vas hosting many ozer vounded Russian men in a varehouse zey had turned into vat vas ze only 'hospital' for miles—and it vas here I vorked until ze end of ze var, viz Mikhail by my side," Medic explains, Scout damn close to tears.
"That's beautiful," he sniffs, clapping emotionally. "Encore, encore," he sobs, adding 'Medic's war stories' to his list of 'eye irritants', next to rainbows.
"How were you able to lug lard fat to the village—?!"
"Zis vas in his zinner youth," Medic grins, Heavy letting out a rumbling chuckle.
"Doktor's damn good cook," he beams.
"So how did you communicate?"
"I vas able to pick up a good enough Russian among ze men—vell, an understanding. Mine vas far from perfect and very broken, but I could be understood,"
"But now you two just use English?"
"Yes, sometimes ve speak in Russian—zough it has been nearly tventy years—!"
"DOKTOR—!" Mikhail shouts jovially, Heinrich jumping again and giving the Russian his full attention.
"Look!" he points a large finger out of Medic's window, and they all turn a head in its direction.
"Can ve—can ve please stop, doktor?!" Mikhail pleads, Heinrich groaning, but taking a nearby exit off the highway nonetheless. "What's the matter—Lard fat need a potty break?"
"I'm hungry!" Mikhail beams, and Scout raises an inquisitive eyebrow as the car drives onward down the smoothly paved highway.
"You were just eatin' a second ago—!" Scout grimaces, the bottomless sack of a stomach his comrade possessed never failing to both surprise and disgust him.
"Scout, you do not mind if ve shtop to get Mikhail some food?"
"Look, I just don't know why you always gotta play 'Mikhail Says', Doc," Scout smirks, his rumbling stomach however convincing him that maybe stopping for a snack wasn't such a bad idea.
"What should I get, Doktor—grilled cheese? Maybe I get sandvich—or maybe nice big bowl of cheddar soup—!"
"How 'bout a fuckin'salad?!" Scout teases, Mikhail gasping and glaring viciously at the howling boy in the back seat.
"Vould you keep it down, I am trying to merge out of zis lane vizout causing our deazs!" Heinrich barks, hands steeled against the steering wheel, his nose nearly touching the windshield. Scout chuckles as he takes a peek from the rear window, smirking to himself as there's not even traffic to be wary of.
Heinrich pulls up to a diner mere minutes later, the parking lot itself nothing but dusty dregs of dark soil, each step laboured with the potential of kicking up dirt had the morning not spent itself soaking the world in rain. Scout steps out of the automobile, which sits in a silent, cooling state, his older comrades closing the doors and stretching their backs as well. Scout rests his hands behind his neck, scowling at the towering mountains with an unimpressed eye. It was beautiful enough, nothing a postcard hadn't already captured somwhere; interesting to Scout at this point was somewhere with something other than cows and mountains that never seemed to get any closer despite how far along one really did go...
"You sure you vill be comfortable in vet clozes?" Heinrich inquires, wrenching Scout from his scathing scan of the Montana landscape.
"What else am I s'possed t'do, Heinrich, strip and eat lunch in the nude?"
"Ach! Zat vould be ridiculous—!"
"Way to explain the damn joke—"
"But if ve get zrown out because ze proprietor of zis diner does not ze offensive smell of vet Scout—"
"So you take the fuckin' food t'go, it ain't that hard! Unless Fatso's gonna order the whole damn menu—"
"I still do not decide what I will eat," Mikhail mumbles shamefully, eyeing his Medic with a touching frown.
"It is okay, Mikhail—"
"Well can we decide all this inside?! I've had enough of this outdoorsy shit for one day!"
Scout saunters behind his comrades with his hands in his pockets, staring at his feet as he follows them toward the entrance of the diner.
"...doktor,"Mikhail whispers, and Scout looks up suddenly to see Mikhail's enormous hand cupped gently around Heinrich's cheek, the palm of it however cradling the flesh of his friend with a sincere delicacy that Scout would never think the heavy handed*** man could possess in any sort of scenario.
But Lawrence finds himself unable to look away at the touching scene unfurling before him, the aging German at a serene ease with his eyes pressed lightly shut, Mikhail's gloved hand stroking him with a touch that seemed to channel itself from anyone save the bumbling Soviet he'd grown to befriend over the last two years.
"C'mon, guys, sheesh—don't think they hold wedding services in diner parking lots," Scout snaps haughtily, striding forward and leaving the two behind. He contemplates the text displayed on the menu taped along the glass of the door, all of it sounding edible in his desperate state of malnutrition.
It was never too late in the day for pancakes...
"...swear I see van, Doktor..."
"Is zat not ze van of one of ze REDS?!"
"I think you are right, Doktor..."
"Wait, what?" Scout mumbles, tearing his attention away from the enticing lunch menu.
"Do you not recognize van, Scout?"
It's impossible the amount of energetic intrigue with which the Bostonian turns around, pivoting in full circle, surveying the boundaries along the parking lot. Sure enough, the familiar van of his Sniper sits idly in the parking lot, and Scout's jaw nearlydrops as he oggles the vehicle, his heart threatening to sling itself from outside the confines of his very chest.
"Shit! The camper van—!" he gasps, completely unaware and apathetic if his comrades find it at all suspicious that Scout is anything but worried or disinterested in the whereabouts of the camper's RED owner. "Da, it is van—Scout sees it before at base, nyet?"
"Yeah yeah, I've seen it," he responds shortly, though with the weight of an anvil the realisation hits him that rushing towards it and claiming he'd found the one who'd left him stranded was clearly not an option.
"Scout—?! Is everyzing alright?! You look quite perturbed!"
"—nah, it's nothin'," the boy shakes his head, sucking on his bottom lip; he'd have to play it all rather cool, rather loose. He'd wait until they stepped inside the eatery to scan the diner for a sign of the man, leave the table saying he's going to the bathroom and confront Sniper out of the eyes of Heinrich—all the while avoiding any sort of attention grabbing outburst—
"I'm fuckin' starvin', ain't you guys?!" Scout asks quickly, smiling weakly under Heinrich's questioning and suspicious gaze. "Mikhail, maybe you should go inside and ask if zey have a table ready for us," Heinrich suggests to the nodding Russian man who beams, eager to fulfill his friend's request. Heinrich nods as the soft bell of the door can be heard chiming as it slams behind him, the German clearing his throat and glaring seriously at his youngest patient.
"I know you recognize zat van, Junge—it is ze van of ze RED Sniper,
no?" Heinrich hisses, Scout instantly blanching and shaking his head smally, eyes round and as wide oranges—
"Scout, zis vould not be ze first time I have happened upon what seems to be ze contrails of what could be misconstrued as some sort of acquaintance you may have wiz zis man—"
"What in the Hell're you talkin' bout, Sausage link, I ain't even say shit—!"
"You need not say a anyzing, you must understand you are about as easy to read as a child's picture book!" Heinrich snarls, adjusting his glasses and scowling down at his pouting friend. "Do not zink I have forgotten about zat day in ze Medibay a year ago—zat man vas hysterical, he gripped me by my front and zreatened me with my life if I did not save you—! To say you do not know him vould be an outright lie! One you cannot fool me into believing!"
Scout can't help but let his features soften at this fact, the intensity of Sniper's emotions for him having truly been a touching phenomena. "Vat is zis? Who is he, vhy are you so enzralled vis him, and vhy did I find you on ze side of ze road covered in mud?!" Heinrich snaps with a forceful display of an obvious need for answers, Scout thinking silently for a moment as he tries to grasp just where the fuck to begin with what he would call insanity.
"I ain't got no idea 'what this is'either,Doc—but—you—you gotta promise not to tell Jane—please don't tell Soldier, man, he'd—"
"I vill not repeat a vord, Junge, you have my sincerity,"
Scout sighs, scratching behind his neck, his shirt squishing sickly as it cools in the lukewarm wind, his teeth chattering slightly as it starts to pick up.
"I dunno, man, but three years ago, back when I was new—I was just explorin' the fields'n stuff, after Engie was briefin' me'n showin' me the ropes—I saw the REDs had an apple tree on their sector, so I snuck around there and was pickin'em—"
"YOU SNUCK OUT OF BOUNDS DURING YOUR FIRST WEEK OVER APPLES—?!"
"And I met Jack—the Sniper—and, ya know, he was fuckin' spooked at first—shit, I was too, but he knew I wasn't tryin' to hurt nobody so he was helpin' me pick the fruit—but we just started talkin', and, I dunno, I thought he was kinda funny— but he caught me in their basement my first mission—It was up to me to get the intel that day—didn't have no backup, so it was all on me.
Anyway, I darted through, but I saw that red dot on the wall'n I actually felt the fuckin' bullet fly through my fuckin' hair—but I was too fast for'im—saw him behind a corner and I knew I had the upper hand, you can't do shit with a sniper rifle in that range—dumbass tried catchin'me—but I made a break for their intel—dude fuckin' lunged at me, grabbed me by the back of my shirt and yanked like there was no fuckin' tomorrow, and a split second later rockets from a fuckin' sentry exploded half the damn wall where I woulda been if the dingo hadn't grabbed me—"
"Zis Sniper is alvays saving you, Scout—!"
"I was confused as Hell, he'd saved my fuckin' life! I thanked him man, scared the shit outta me! My shirt was singed and I caught some of the blast, but man, I kept thankin'm, and he told me to scram, to get out and never come back—shit, Ididn't, either, not for a while..." Scout laughs before sighing.
"So anyway, I wasn't just gonna let that happen without tellin' the dude thanks—he mighta been my enemy, but—so I found'im after the match, found him in his nest—he flipped out at first, but he was cool when I told him thanks or whatever. Made all these grumblin' noises, but he told me he didn't kill kids or newbies—"
"I'm sure you took zat comment vell—"
"Yeah, gave 'im a piece'o my mind, then I kinda challenged him—told'imthat just because I was new that didn't mean I didn't know my shit—ended up fuckin' him over a few times, dude wasn't expectin' it from me—y'know, it was like a rivalry—the beginning of every match man, he'd grin at me behind those glasses, his smile was so sick—I'd grin back through, give'im the finger—soon as that siren went off we knew the other was fair game...
Man, we're both sore losers, though—I'd sneak to his nest after dinner, and when we started earnin' medals it was fuckin'on—we'd spend the whole night tryin' to outdo each other! Then, I dunno, we just became friends, and—"
"Zis has been going on since ze beginning of your service—?!"
"I dunno why, I just—he was nice to me, he could tell I was new— but, y'know, whatever, we just got close, man, and that day, when you saw him in the batlements takin' care of me—we'd already been friends a damn two years by that point—I was just as shocked as you were, Doc, when it came out that he was losin' his damn marbles over me, but..."
"You mean to tell me you have been carrying on a fraternization vis ze RED Sniper for—?! Ach, Junge..."
"Uh duh, ain't you listenin'?!"
"Zis is a breach on our security, on ze mission—!"
"You ain't gotta worry, Doc, half the bruises we got are from each other! We don't trade no secrets and we don't ask; 's part of why I need him so much, he's the only thing keepin' me sane, the only one I can go to and the war just disappears—last thing we wanna do is fuckin' bring that shit up when we're together—and you can't say fuckin' shit either, dude, you betrayed your country over lard fat!" Scout growls fiercly, Heinrich blushing over the reminder of this fact.
"Yeah, remember how you gave up your whole life for Mikhail, even though dude was out there kickin' Kraut ass?!" Scout glares, Heinrich scoffing and adjusting his glasses primly in response.
"It's the same fuckin' thing; can you tell me why you gave it all up that day for him?!"
Heinrich sighs and massages his forehead, concealing his face behind his palm.
"Tell me why you defected," Scout snaps, glaring at the verbally cornered doctor.
"...I cannot explain it myself, Scout..." Heinrich sighs wearily.
"It's almost as if you look at them and you fuckin' know there's somethin' about them, like fate don't give a shit which side you're on, it's gonna make sure you're together—"
"I vould not vord it so crudely myself, but, yes..."
"But do you regret it? Is Mikhail not the best thing that's ever happened in your life?"
"..."
"You even learned Russian for him, Doc,"
"I assume you love him, zen?" Heinrich asks quietly, switching back to his own closeness with the enemy and catching him by surprise. Scout's lips part lightly in an inaudible, shocked gasp...he darts his gaze to the side, Heinrich however beyond aware of the answer.
"If vat you have wiz ze Sniper is anyzing like vat I feel for Mikhail, you must love him..."
"I mean—c'mon, Doc..." Scout snaps, scowling at the emotional sense of longing for the most precious thing in his life budding within him.
"Do ya really gotta put it like that?"
"Still, it does not surprise me zat despite it all ze Sniper can only tolerate you in doses—I take it it was him who left you out here?"
Scout grumbles.
"Vat in ze vorld did you do—?!"
"It doesn't matter, Doc, we just got into it a little bit—you know how it gets—sometimes you just, you know, you ain't in the mood..."
"I rarely ever have disagreements wiz Mikhail," Heinrich sighs.
"And how do ya manage that?! Seems like me'n the dingo are always goin' at it, 'nd you two over here're in fuckin'candyland—"
"Do not take zis ze wrong vay, Scout, but you are—in German ve say Gewöhnungsbedürftig—"
"The FUCK—?!"
"Yours is not ze easiest personality to adjust to..."
"Hey, now—!"
"You are simply not a romtantic person! I imagine ze Sniper is also very colourful in his own vays and temperment; perhaps it is simply a confliction of your temperaments..."
"Yeah, but, every time I try makin' out he always shoves me away—I dunno, he's always grumpy, or whatever, or maybe I ain't in the mood—"
"It seems awfully strange zat your own boyfriend vould not vant to be intimate wiz you..."
"Uh, he ain't exactly my boyfriend, Doc-we may kiss'n shit, but we ain't datin' or nothin'. I mean, it wasn't until maybe yesterday I finally just accepted that I might be a fag'n that I love'im, right?! 'Nd I tried tellin'im; pullin'im aside'n tellin' him that look, there's somethin' between us—but God, he just—he rages, tells me I'm stupid'n that I have no idea what I want, 'n that he'll never, ya know, let it be more than friendship..."
"It must not be meant to be; perhaps you must come to terms zat you two vill only be friends!"
"Pfft—who knows if we'll even be that now..."
"It seems you have a powerful frienship, zough!"
"Yeah, but," Scout pouts, casting a look at the van. "Maybe sometimes I kinda want what you'n Mikhail have, ya know?! Like maybe I wouldn't mind it if Jack would just stop in his tracks'n, 'n look at me the way Mikhail does with you, holdin' me..."
"You vant to be more affectionate wiz him?"
"Y—yeah..."
"Vell, have you ever had sex wiz him in ze past?"
"WHAT?! Doc, we ain't never gone that far before!" Scout shrieks, Heinrich laughing at the bright pink Bostonian before him.
"Perhaps zen ze attraction simply is not zere—"
"Nah, Deutschbag, it is, he's just so fuckin' weird—paranoid as shit that the administrator is watchin' for his van t'start shakin' back'nd forth or somethin',"
"If he tried to touch you, vould you let him?"
"I mean—yeah, but—"
"it takes years to cultivate a relationship, Scout; Mikhail and I have tventy years behind us. You and your Sniper still have plenty of time to figure it all out,"
"I guess," Scout sighs disappointedly, Medic clearing his throat and clasping a hand on his shoulder.
"It vould appear he is in ze diner—vould you like to go in and search for him?"
"Nah, I got a key to the van, I was just thinkin' about lettin' myself in the camper and surprising'im," Scout beams devilishly, Heinrich's eyes growing wide and uneasy.
"Do you zink it to be vise?! Vat if he is still angry?!"
"I was gonna apologise—and I don't ever say sorry, so y'all better get your fuckin' cameras rollin'..."
"I see—vell, zen I suppose I vill leave you to your judgement," Medic sighs, nodding curtly at Scout.
"Luck has truly been on your favour, today,"
"Yeah, I guess so—good thing Montana ain't nothin' but freakin' lines for roads, otherwise we probably never woulda caught up to him,"
"Right; take care of yourself, Scout, and do not vorry, you and your Sniper are much, much closer zan you could ever zink,"
"How in the Hell do you know?!"
"Because I've seen him when he is faced wiz the possibility of losing you."