Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't.

Cheers.

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It had been days since that violent interrogation and the drug in the Sniper's system was long gone.

In the brief moments he had been freed from his chair in order to use basic facilities, he tried his best to look subdued and harmless -- it's what he was, right? Harmless.. At least to this team. Never once did he try to escape or lift a hand to whoever was tasked with escorting him around.

Today it was a Soldier, his steely grip solid on one of his upper arms as they walked back toward the holding cell together. They were intercepted by the young Medic, a welcome sight being that he was usually the one to tend to his needs with more care than the others had shown. "I can take it from here, Soldier. Dismissed."

The helmet-capped man couldn't have been happier to remove his hand from the proposed traitor as he shoved him in the Medic's direction and grunted his thanks before turning to walk back up the hall.

Stumbling from the shove, the Sniper grimaced and peered after the Soldier until he felt the Medic laying a comforting hand at his shoulder, "Hey.. Come on. I'll get you set back up."

"Oh joy," the Aussie murmured. He was clearly unhappy with the idea of going back in that room, but if anyone had to do it he'd prefer it was this Medic. These days he seemed like the only friend he had left on the base which was surprising given how new to the team he was. The reasoning didn't really matter; he'd welcome any and all support with open arms.

The Medic smiled gently and nodded as they walked together, "I know you don't like it.. Hopefully they'll let you go soon?"

"Can't really complain, mate. They gave me a nice chair after all," he said with some sarcasm.

The Medic only laughed, a snort slipping into it though he was quick to calm himself and open the room door with his key card. From there it was relatively simple getting the Sniper back into his restraints. He sat down, placed his wrists and ankles into position, and sighed down at his lap as he felt the Medic moving behind him and tightening them appropriately. Next he'd probably ask if he could bring him anything. The young doctor was the reason he hadn't died from a lack of coffee yet.

He could hear the man standing back up, but after a few moments no questions came.

Chalking it up to pity, the Sniper cleared his throat, "I'll be fine."

The Medic's hand graced his shoulder again, this time turning the chair around and giving the sharpshooter a clear view of the smirk on his face, "Will you?"

Immediately suspicion set in. The doctor was by no means playful let alone devious -- he was far too nervous and respectful of the older team members to ever try and toy with someone in even the friendliest of fashions. "..yeh," the Sniper ventured after a moment, his eyes narrowed slightly as he lifted a brow.

That's right about when the Medic chuckled and shifted to sit in the Sniper's lap as his arm curled affectionately around his shoulder, "Aw.. good. I'd like for you to be comfortable."

The Sniper saw the man's face and clothing flicker, his white coat clipping right through the his leg as though it weren't a solid object.. because it wasn't.

"Spoy," he growled suddenly, jerking his head back from the man as he reached up to try and pet his face.

The mint-eyed Medic only grinned, bowing his head as he leaned against the Sniper's chest and used his free hand to lay an index finger over the Aussie's lips, "Now now.. Don't be nasty. Eef you become too loud I shall have to.. sedate you." The French accent swooped in out of nowhere, seeming truly bizarre coming from the Englishman before him.

The Aussie did the only thing he could do -- he bit the man's finger.

"Ouh!" the Spy exclaimed as he pulled it back and shook his hand with an amused laugh, "Zuch a fighter!"

"Go t' hell!"

Without waiting, the Spy's hand returned, clamping onto the Sniper's throat while various aspects of his disguise continued to glitch and flicker. It effectively prevented the Aussie from calling for help or spouting off insults, just the sort of condition the Spy required to sit up and straddle the man as his free hand pushed a thumb over the jagged scar crossing his eyes. "Ah... magnifique.." he commented, slowly pulling his hand down from the Sniper's throat and allowing him to cough and and clear his throat.

"The bloody 'ell d'you want.." the Sniper rasped.

"Oh, I don't know.." said the faux Medic, tapping his chin with a coy expression. The Sniper met it with an even stare, not even blinking as the Spy moved to cradle his chin in one hand and pet the scar again. "Why do you make judgments of people, Monsieur Sniper? Why do you do zhat.." the Blu asked with a near pitying tone. He was mocking him, he could tell. "Don't you know? Zometimes you can be completely wrong.."

"Yeh.." the man breathed out, "First I thought you were just a rookie." The Spy roses a bit higher on his perch, looking expectant. "Now I know you're a bloody idiot," he concluded, spitting at the man's face. It traveled right past his digital glasses, catching him on the cheek and causing him to flinch slightly.

Grinning darkly, the Spy bowed his head and dropped his disguise, a gloved hand lifted to wipe off the spittle, "Really.. Is zhat why you seet in zhis prison, mon Ami? Hm?" He tilted his head, leaning in dangerously close, "Is zhat.. why your leetle friends? All seem to.. hate you now?" The Sniper shifted his jaw testily. "You see, because from where I sit.. You have no one left to vouch for you. When I leave zhis room? I will kill your leetle Medic friend. Zhen I will discredit.. and kill all of your leetle Red Spies. One by one." He smiled sweetly, tapping the Sniper on the nose, "I am sure it won't look good for you. Partner."

"It looks real good from where Oy'm sittin', mate."

Confused, the Blu blinked and frowned at the Aussie. He got the distinct feeling that something wasn't quite right and only managed to turn his head subtly before he was yanked backward by the collar of his suit, "AH! Zut alors!"

Before he could even register what was happening, he found himself on the floor with someone looming over him -- a Red Spy!

He opened his mouth to protest, eyes wide with surprise as the barrel of an Ambassador leveled and fired two quick shots into either of his kneecaps. Those protests quickly became yells of pain as he instinctively tried to push himself back across the floor and look for a method of escape. One wasn't forthcoming as he should have known, eyes moving from the locked room door and up to the suited man who reached down and grabbed his tie in order to yank his torso from the floor and press his gun over the Blu's heart.

The sound of gunshots soon brought a few people running, their footsteps sounding off in chorus up the hallway while the Blu tried to combat the pain in his legs and struggle. His tie was choking him now, the barrel of that gun pressing mercilessly against his chest while the Red Spy's trigger finger twitched tauntingly and caused him to flinch numerous times. He finally stared up at the man's face, true fear reaching him as he noted the hazel hue of his eyes.

"Do not move or I will shoot you, Monsieur," he whispered calmly.

The unarmed Blu lay there, gagging subtly at the tightness of his tie as the door to the cell swung open and hit the wall as a Heavy and the head Medic forced their way inside.

"Vhat is going on here?!" the German demanded, his mouth twisting into a snarl upon seeing the Blu.

The Sniper's friend stared placidly at the Blu below him, quite suddenly dropping him to the floor but not before pistol whipping him in much the same fashion as he had done to the Sniper only days prior. one more bullet came after that, lodging itself in the man's stomach and leaving him whimpering and writhing weakly on the floor as the Red stood straight and holstered his weapon. He turned to the Medic, reaching up to wipe a fleck of blood from his cheek, "Zhe threat has been subdued, Messieurs.. Heavy? If you would please.. escort zhis man to zhe infirmary?" His eyes moved to the Medic, "I want him stabilized, but do not heal him him entirely."

The Medic growled, failing to move from his post and putting an arm out to block the Heavy who had dutifully begun to move forward, "I vhill NOT have zhis on my base, Herr Spy. Do you understand me? Kill him now or I vhill do it myself!"

"Little man is big trouble," the Heavy agreed, looking from the squirming Blu to the Red Spy who merely brushed his hands together and met the Medic's fury with an eerie calm.

"Precisely, Messieurs. Zhat is why I want him."

"Dummkopf! Are you insane??" the Medic hissed, advancing on the Spy and peering at the Blu with a look of utter contempt, "He has killed a man and attacked anozher. How can you not admonish such atrocity??"

"Zhe man is merely doing his job, Monsieur Medic."

The German would not be moved, his cold eyes boring right through the Red Spy as he waited for an explanation far better than that one.

"You see what he has done to our colleagues.. Imagine if we could recruit zhat? Why do you zhink he has not killed more of us? He merely wishes to show off his skill.." The Medic narrowed his eyes further, fully prepared to go for the Bonesaw at his waist though a flicker of curiosity spurred in him as the Blu Spy began hacking up blood and clutching feebly at his leaking stomach. "Full restraints, full guard.. I can talk to him, mon Ami.." the Red whispered encouragingly.

The Sniper said nothing through all of this, simply sitting there and watching the Blu suffer on the floor roughly ten feet away.

"Heavy," the Medic said suddenly, eyes still focused on the wounded man, "Bring zhe Spy to de infirmary, bitte. I vhill join you zhere."

"Da, Doktor!" the big man said, stepping around the two of them and scooping the wounded man up with ease. He wasn't gentle with the Blu as evidenced by the sharp cry of pain that left him as he was plucked from the floor and subsequently carried from the room. The Medic left soon after, giving the Red Spy a pondering look as he pulled the door shut.

Silence took up the space left by the doctor and heavy weapons specialist, the only sound being the creak of the Sniper's chair as he ventured a glance in the Spy's direction.

"You knew he'd be here, didn't you?"

The masked man said nothing for the moment, glancing down at his shoes as he tucked his hands behind his back and nodded. A few seconds later, he found the courage to turn and walk to the Sniper, kneeling as he began to work the binds loose from his hands and feet.

"I entered and cloaked zhe moment you left with zhe Soldier. ..I knew zhe temptation to come and mock you would be too great after seeing you felled by your allies."

The Sniper looked across the room as he was being freed, turning the words over in his head, "So.. You knew the whole time?"

"I had to do it, Sniper.. It was zhe only way I knew to get him to come and clear your name unwittingly." The Red Spy pulled the handcuffs free and tossed them up onto the table though he remained crouched beside the chair. "Zhey do not trust my word as zhey once did.. Zhis entire fiasco has severely damaged not only your reputation, but mine as well."

When he found that the Aussie still wasn't looking at him, the Spy frowned and got to his feet.

"He was watching us zhe entire time -- I had to put on an act," said the Spy, his voice clearly groping for understanding from the Aussie who merely glanced his way and caused him to falter in confidence.

Rubbing his newly-freed wrists, the Sniper examined the deep red grooves left in them from his restraints. He pulled in a long inhale and let it out with control while the Spy beside him squirmed with internal fret. The man had no idea what the marksman was thinking at the moment. Was he hurt? Angry? Would he be out for revenge again him for using him as bait?

"Monsieur Sniper.."

"Pierce," the Aussie interrupted.

"I beg your pardon," the Spy stated with some uncertainty.

He watched the Sniper push himself up out of the chair, long limbs flexed as he looked at the Spy again, "That's my name."

The Spy seemed to be at a loss as the Aussie stepped around him and walked away. No doubt he'd be headed for the briefing room -- there was a lot that needed to be discussed now. But.. What had just happened? Was he forgiven? Scorned?

With the question readily painted on his face, the masked man fished a cigarette out of his suit and lit it worriedly as he followed the Sniper out of the holding cell.