NOTE: This one is very heavy on cursing because its about the oh-so-lovable Scout. Not for sensitive readers, I guess. Anywho, I hope you enjoy it! :D
Pairings: RED Spy/ BLU Scout's mom is mentioned (quite a bit) but that's pretty much it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Team Fortress 2 or the characters/world therein.
~TESTAMENT~
Being a Scout was freaking difficult, like all the time. No one on your team thought you were good for anything, but what did they know- a bunch of old guys with no sense of humor- and every one on the other team was tying to kill you because they really wanted to throttle their own Scout and that 'friendly fire' technology crap wouldn't let them- and it was their job or some shit. Hated on all sides, really. But the worse, the absolute worst was being a Scout for the Builder's League United. Not only was he hated on all sides, but that damn enemy Spy was dating his mother. What was worse was she didn't see how much of a fucking douche bag the guy was. Neither the Spy nor the Scout told her that their jobs entailed killing each other repeatedly on a day to day basis. That was the only thing the two could really agree on where she was concerned. She didn't need to know about that.
It really didn't help matters that the rest of his team knew. Hell, the RED bastards probably knew by now, too. It went from them accusing him of being useless to them accusing him of purposefully going easy on his step father- which the guy totally wasn't; not yet, and not ever if the Scout had anything to say about it. Still, the fingers were always pointed at him when the REDs kicked their asses or when that shape-shifting rat sapped Engineer's shit or stole shit or whatever.
That had to change. If the Scout was going to survive on his team without bashing his own brains out 'cause he couldn't bash in the skulls of his team, he'd have to do something. He survived growing up in Boston with his Ma and his brothers, and he'd survive this. Hell, a lesser man would be freaking dead by now, but this was Scout. He was good at shit like this. He just had to do something to prove his entire team wrong, and show them that he wasn't worthless or letting those REDs win just 'cause one of them was- and he really hated this fact- banging his Ma.
The hag over the intercom was counting down the last few seconds before the match began and the Scout gripped his bat tightly. His quick mind was already visualizing just what he would do. Over and over again. His grin was the kind of thing that would give convicts nightmares. All badass. When the countdown was finished and they were allowed to start, the Scout ran out of the base. If the rest of the team had a plan, he didn't care. Was the Soldier yelling at him? Great. Didn't matter. Only one thing mattered.
The only good thing about that French bastard spending so much time around his Ma was that the Scout had had more than enough to learn what the hell the other man's cologne smelt like. That he had learned that at all was disturbing, but it was useful now so fuck it. Just looking wasn't enough with those damn shape-shifters. The Scout needed something more to tell him he was beating in the right skull, and his sense of smell would be just that. That and sheer luck. He had his luckiest baseball card tucked under his cap to take care of that. The thing never let him down and he was confident it wouldn't start any time soon.
He didn't worry about the Intel that day, choosing to focus instead on finding and killing the Frenchman. Anyone who got in his way was either avoided or taken out- depending on which was most convenient at the time. He was a man with a mission and a one-track mind; kill the RED Spy. Prove to his team that he didn't do a single damn thing to make life easier for that rat. Prove to them that he was damn good at what he did- and what he did was hurt people. By the end of the day, they'd all know it and the Spy sure as Hell wasn't going to forget anytime soon. He planned to kill that guy so hard and so many times, he'd respawn with a limp.
The end of the day saw the Scout with more kills than anyone else on the team, especially when he found the RED respawn room and spent the better part of the match killing that rat as soon as he came back- as well as a few others when they came back. It was when more than one respawned at once that the Scout found himself dying and coming back, but that was alright. Just meant he'd have to hunt down the Spy again. No problem. The rest of his team had been impressed. Enough so that, at least for that evening, the comments stopped.
Grass grows, birds fly, sun shines, and, brother, the Scout hurts people. That day was a testament to his skills, and his hatred of the man who dared date his Ma. She was too good for that rat loser anyways.