And an ending...
...
The BLU Sniper was the first one to see him return, popping his akubra up slightly as he leaned against his van, watching with a raised eyebrow as the Spy tugged a torn and dirtied sleeve back up his shoulder in vain, silhouetted by the afternoon sun. The rest of the RED Spy's jacket was in a shamble, as was most of his outfit, he also looked like he had been rolled in dirt. Ceasefire was still in effect, so the Sniper merely waved, grinning widely. "What's wrong, piker? Can't handle being outside of an area that doesn't have indoor plumbing for just one night? What'd you do anyway, jump off the side of a cliff?"
Spy frowned, stalked over to him and pressed a single finger into his chest, the Sniper grinning at him condescendingly. "You, sir are one of the most uncultured, unhygienic, unprofessional, impolite barbarians I have ever met. You are also idiotic, ugly, and you smell like you rolled in manure. Also, since you were kind enough to ask, no, I did not jump off the side of a cliff, I was pushed." With that he stalked off, the Sniper blinking as what precisely he had said registered in his brain. Next moment a glass jar had been hurled towards the Spy's retreating back, the Sniper always keeping one on hand just for moments like this.
The Sniper's almost unnaturally good aim led to the jar breaking onto the Spy's back, drenching him in a yellow liquid that the Spy knew quite well, if not dreaded with every fibre of his being. The Spy had frozen mid-step, his right eye twitching, and mouth clenched tightly shut. The RED Engineer and Sniper had seen him coming, the Engineer apparently having finally managed to bully the RED Sniper into looking at his van. The both of them froze, mouths open, and hands raised to wave in greeting as what they were seeing registered.
The Spy felt the sun-warmed liquid trickle down his shirt, the smell rising from his already dirt-covered, and sweat-soaked body meeting new heights of disgusting. The BLU Sniper's laughter rang in his ears, and the Spy's icy-blue eyes narrowed in fury. Next moment he had whipped around and those blue eyes were staring into the Sniper's aviators with the kind of look that would make a lesser man drop dead. It was then that the nastiest grin the BLU Sniper had ever seen curled his mouth. Before the Sniper quite knew what was happening, the RED Spy had walked back over to him, removed his sodden jacket, whirled it around a few times in his hands, and promptly wrung it out over the top of the Sniper's head.
The RED Sniper and Engineer burst out laughing at the sight of the BLU Snipers expression, somewhere between shocked, disgusted, and about to blow a gasket. Next moment the Australian had clocked the Frenchman in the jaw, and it was then that a full-on fistfight broke out. The other Sniper looked to the Engineer standing next to him, eyebrow rising slightly. "So, willing to make a small wager, mate?"
"What kind of wager, Slim?" Engineer asked, watching as the Spy tackled the taller man, the akubra and sunglasses flying off of him due to a violent blow to the nose that left him bleeding. The Sniper's mouth was pulled into a snarl; the Spy's teeth were clenched to the point of nearly breaking as he attempted to pummel the other man.
"Who's gonna wind up knocking the other's teeth out first." Sniper answered, the BLU Sniper finally managing to kick the Spy off of him. The Spy only took that opportunity to roll back onto his feet and start kicking him in the side before the other man could get up.
"Filthy jarman! Impolite, disgusting, ogre!" The Spy's foot was finally caught, the Sniper yanking him off his feet and straddling his stomach, fist pounding into the other's face.
"Bloody piker! Always sneaking up on a guy when his back's turned!" The slew of fragmented insults continued, both of them attempting to beat the other black and blue.
"I don't know, I honestly don't think the Spy's someone who would go for the teeth… Although, to be honest, I never pictured him as someone who would go in for an all out fistfight either, I didn't think he had it in him." Engineer grinned; watching as the Spy finally managed to flip the Sniper over, maroon balaclava crusty with the blood from his split lip and punched the Australian's face repeatedly.
"Looked like he had been put through the wringer before he got here, truckie, he was out all night and most of the day. I think the jarate just shoved him over the metaphorical edge." Sniper flashed his teeth in something like a smirk. "Honestly, I'm glad it did. I haven't ever seen him this far out of sorts. It's bloody hysterical."
Spy was shoved backwards, landing sprawled on his back, the Sniper kicking him as he was down, cackling viciously, until the Spy managed to sink his teeth into the Sniper's leg. Down he went again, crying out in pain. Spy spat blood to the side violently, returning to his efforts of attempting to hit every last inch of him he could reach.
"Now that was just fighting dirty." Engineer smirked.
"So you think that the Spy won't be able to get that Aussie's teeth out?" Sniper asked, indicating him.
"Nah, doesn't seem like his style." Engineer finally answered, watching as the two of them eventually regressed to rolling over and over, attempting to pin the other, flailing wildly as they hit and spat insults at each other. "Although, I didn't honestly think that biting someone was his style either. I'm learning a lot about the Spy today, I guess."
"Reckon you're right about that, mate. But I still think that going for the teeth is still a bit far out there. Besides, it's bushman's rules to go for the teeth. Notice how much blood Spy's spitting out? That Aussie's definitely been going for the teeth." Sniper nodded his head once, raising an eyebrow when a particularly violent curse spewed forth from the Spy's lips, soon changing to a rapid-fire stream of multilingual curses.
"What is happening?" The Russian accented voice of the Heavy asked, coming to a stop next to the two of them.
"Well, that BLU Sniper and our Spy are having a bit of a dispute. I'm not really sure who's winning… Not all that sure it matters…" Engineer grinned, "Too damn amusing whatever way you look at it."
"Got that right." Sniper smirked. Heavy crossed his arms over his chest, his lips pursing thoughtfully.
"Not bad technique," Heavy finally stated, an eyebrow rising in consideration.
"Really? Looks to me like they're both flailing, what do you mean by that?" Sniper asked.
"Watch little Spy, he is going to win." Heavy nodded his head once in a decisive manner, a grin spreading across his face.
"You think so? I was thinking-" Engineer stopped, his mouth dropping open as the Spy managed to somehow yank the Sniper backwards, slam his elbow into the man's teeth, and as the Aussie reeled back, bring his forehead down onto the Sniper's viciously, and finally slam that head back onto the ground. The Australian didn't move and the Spy finally stood up, panting heavily, tugging at his outfit fruitlessly in an effort to look more presentable. He had a large tear in the side of his balaclava, his hand automatically going up to the site and pressing against it, unwilling for even the slightest amount of skin to be seen. The RED Sniper hurried over to the scene, looking down at his fallen counterpart.
A frown tugging at his mouth, the Australian crouched down next to the man sprawled on the ground, before a single finger tugged at the unconscious man's mouth, baring his teeth. His eyes widened and he barked out a laugh. "Spy! You know what you did?" He asked, immediately looking around on the ground to find the object of his interest.
"What? I swear I'm not in the mood for any of your…odd Australian quirks…" Spy grumbled backing away from the nearly frantically searching Sniper, before the man gave out a triumphant cry, holding something aloft. A moment later and the Frenchman found his other hand grasped, spread out, and a bloody canine tooth pressed into his gloved palm. The Spy about fell over backwards in his effort to shake the Sniper's hand off his wrist, toss the aforementioned tooth, and yell in disgust.
Sniper laughed at him. "Relax, will you? It's just a tooth. You knocked it clean out! Got the root out and everything, just look at that beauty!"
"So?" Spy finally managed to snap, his other hand still pressing his balaclava together as his mouth pulled into a frown.
"Bushman's rules, mate. I told you about them, right?" Sniper smirked at him, his eyes reflecting absolute amusement, waiting for the reaction he knew was coming.
"Yes, knock your kill's teeth out and…no!" The realization struck, complete with wide eyes and a disgusted expression. "I do not want to make a necklace out of his teeth! I don't even want to make a necklace out of just one tooth! I am not a bushman, what…what..." Spy stared at him in something like horror; his mouth pulled into a frown of disgust, apparently struck dumb with absolute incomprehension as he shook his head mutely.
"Aw, come on, mate." Sniper grinned at him easily, the look somewhere between cajoling, and teasing.
"Is this some sort of irritating effort to let me know that you think of me as part of the team, or an effort to disgust me as much as physically possible?" Spy asked finally, frowning at him. Sniper rolled his eyes upwards thoughtfully, mouth pulling into a considering grimace before grinning at him.
"Disgust you as much as physically possible." Spy huffed, removed the hand covering his face long enough to yank the Sniper's hat down over his eyes, and in the moment when the Sniper was yelling about not breaking his sunglasses and had released him, walked away. Engineer tipped his hardhat at him.
"Well, even if Stretch's too much of an ass to tell you, I think you're definitely part of the team. No one gets to put on a performance like that and not get some credit." He chuckled, the Spy taking a moment to bow.
"Why thank you, Laborer, at least some people in this base know a good thing when they see it." His voice was as sarcastic as possible, but he did grace him with a small, albeit real smile. They finally continued into the base, giving the Spy a wide berth, both to avoid the smell coming off of him, and to respect the man's larger than normal personal space. He had left his urine-soaked jacket on the Sniper as something of a final insult. They honestly were kind of upset they wouldn't get to see his reaction. They entered the base, the RED Spy visibly relaxing as soon as they entered the shade.
"What happened to little Spy, where have you been?" Heavy finally asked, the other two immediately paying attention. There were things that the team mutually agreed upon in regards of how to get along together as a group. You didn't touch the Scout's 'Bonk!' or the Heavy's Sandviches, you left the doves in the medical bay alone, you didn't make loud noises or run in the Engineer's garage, you left the Demoman alone when he was melancholy, and you never, never asked the Spy where he had been. The Frenchman was often disappearing outside the base for various reasons, often on the weekends or when a ceasefire was called, if only temporary. No one was quite sure why, and most of the time they never asked. Asking about his tools and weapons? He'd give you round-about answers and mock you, but he would at least be semi-polite about it. His whereabouts?
The Spy turned to regard him, blue eyes flashing death, and they saw just how tired he looked, even as he tensed right back up. He slowly drew up to his full height, blue ringed eyes glaring, prompting the Heavy to straighten and remind him just how small he really was. Just as slowly he shrank back, frowning. "None of your business."
"No? Why?" He asked, watching as the Spy seemed to shrink even more.
"Because…" The Spy sighed, rubbing his hands over his face tiredly, and then smiled. "I got my disguise kit back. Is it possible that I could leave it like that and you will take it as an answer?"
They frowned, looked at each other, and then comprehension dawned. "Holy shit, you went to confront Saxton?"
"No, that was not my original intention, but…lo and behold, our wonderful Announcer decided it was my fault, and so I must be the one to ask the benevolent Saxton Hale if I could get my disguise kit back. I also had to explain to him why precisely using a disguise kit that works on blood is a bad idea. This involved a rather wonderful talk on various diseases transmitted by blood. This, naturally, ended in him giving me my disguise kit back, and then shoving me off a cliff." They snorted with laughter, the Spy crossing his arms, glaring, even as the three of them cackled.
"Hold on a moment there, how precisely did you survive getting tossed off a cliff?" Engineer asked, the minor technical issue ringing alarm bells in his mind, even as he struggled to stop laughing long enough to ask.
"…It was a small cliff…" Spy looked to the ground, mouth pursing slightly as he cleared his throat, listening to their laughter. "I also used this." He held up what looked to be a gold pocket watch, his lips spreading into a grin at their immediate interest.
"That little doohickey? What's it do? Looks like a regular watch to me…" Engineer mumbled, leaning towards it. Spy smirked, removing it from his line of vision, tucking it back into the pocket it had come from.
"You will see in the next match, as soon as the BLU team gets a new Spy, which shouldn't be that long, knowing the Announcer's ability to find people willing to fight for her." The Spy smirked before frowning. "What was it I wanted to do… Oh, yes, Heavy." The Spy reached into his vest pocket, flicking the disguise kit inside it open. "Voila, for you." He held out the drawing of Sasha, smirking. Heavy gasped, his mouth stretching into a wide smile, taking it in his hands happily and pressing it to his chest in a fit of glee. The Spy rolled his eyes. "Glad you like it, now, gentlemen, if you will excuse me…" Before he could get any further, the Heavy reached out, pulling him close in a back-breaking hug that led to the Spy grunting as his back cracked, his eyes bulging, even as he began kicking futilely in an effort to get away.
"I love this Spy!" Heavy shouted out, the Engineer and Sniper cackling with laughter at the way the Spy desperately tried to gain some composure. The hand that had been working so desperately on trying to keep his mask sealed, even with everything else he had been doing, slipped off, regressed to pounding desperately on the man's back in an effort to get him to let go.
"Alright, alright! Thank you, I'm glad tu aime il, now please, put me down!" He was dropped, the Heavy grinning at him, patting him on the head and walking away, the drawing clutched safely in his hand.
"Doctor! Come look at what Spy gave me!" He shouted out as he walked down the hallway, likely towards the Medic himself. Spy grumbled, ignoring the two men laughing at him, and walked away, not bothering to adjust his outfit anymore, and letting it practically sag off of him. He was too tired to care anymore. But he was not too tired to turn in without a shower. He'd sleep the rest of the day away, he had nothing to do, so, naturally, it seemed like the perfect plan.
What he hadn't been expecting was the sight of the Pyro about to walk into the bathroom. Spy let out a groan, almost immediately turning around to leave, not willing to fight for this on top of everything else. He was stopped by a gloved hand on his shoulder.
"Whaihbt. Yhou caun gho," Pyro muffled, giving him a thumbs up and a nod. "Yhou lhouk lhiyke yhou nheid ib."
Spy blinked, frowning at him. "Merci. I think." Pyro patted him on the back and left, the Spy taking the invitation, and enjoying a rather long shower in peace. He changed into a new dress-shirt and pants, along with the other essentials, walking back to his room, his torn up and beaten uniform having been discarded, his tools transferred. A fresh balaclava covered his face, a fact he was most glad for when the Scout ran up to him suddenly.
"Hey, man, just wanted to say that what you did was cool. And…if you have a list of stuff you don't want me doing in your presence…" Scout cleared his throat, kicking at the ground, the Spy blinking before frowning down at him.
"What are you talking about?"
"I promised, didn't I? I said if you could make Heavy think you were Sasha I'd stop annoying you for a week." Scout answered, straightening up fully, crossing his arms defiantly.
Spy stared at him with wide eyes. "I didn't think you meant it."
"What? You don't think I keep my promises? You don't think my mother raised me up right? What's wrong with you? The BLU Scout's mom's good enough for you, but mine's trailer trash? I thought you were cool, man!" He shoved at him, the Spy immediately working on back peddling, his hands waving in front of him.
"No, no, Scout, listen to me. I apologize; I had not meant to slight your mother, or her methods in raising you. And am I right in gathering you want me to date your mother?" Spy raised an eyebrow, watching as the Scout both tensed up and relaxed at once, finally settling for crossing his arms and frowning.
"No. But it would be better you than that BLU Spy. Not that he really can, since you kind of taught that dumb bastard whose boss, right?" He smirked, rubbing under his nose with his thumb before blinking in surprise. "Wait, you apologized? What's the world coming to?" Scout laughed.
"I know, shocking. However, I do not believe bringing a man's mother into anything is a bon thing to do. In fact I find it rather deplorable, that was not my intention in the least. So I do apologize if that was the way your brain chose to interpret it." Spy smiled at him, a look that turned sneaky when the Scout nodded his head in acceptance.
"Alright, we're cool. So, what don't you want me to do around you for the next week?" Scout asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
Spy sighed. "At the moment, I'd love to give you the full list, but I do not quite feel up to it at this point in time. Would you consider taking a rain-check on it?"
"Okay, no big deal. Go get some rest, man, you look beat." Scout patted him on the back before starting to jog off. "Good job yesterday!" Scout shouted over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hallway.
"Merci," Spy stated belatedly and finally walked away, wondering what strange version of the Twilight Zone he had wandered into. It was then that he managed to walk into an obviously drunken conversation between the Soldier and the Demoman. The both of them leaned against the wall and talked amongst themselves, and whatever hope he had for a peaceful nap was dashed when the both of them looked at him and grinned.
"Spy! You loveable bugger, you! Come over here, we got something for you!" The Demoman shouted out, the Frenchman unable to do much but comply, walking over to him with his shoulders hunched.
"Frenchie, it is not normally something I would do, your cowardly methods of fighting are nothing but a disgrace, but yesterday you went above and beyond the call of duty. Both in your sabotage of the BLU team and your treatment of Saxton Hale, for this reason, and this reason only, I grant to you this here medal." Soldier pulled the Spy close enough to pin it to his chest, the Frenchman balking at the stench of alcohol emanating from the two of them, as well as the prick to his chest from the sharp end of the pin. "Congratulations, soldier!" The American saluted him, the Demoman patted him on the back heavily, and the Frenchman gave a clumsy bow in return, escaping before things could get any weirder.
As he walked away he took a moment to examine the medal currently decorating his chest. Silver with gold trim, rather intricate, it honestly wasn't that bad, until he managed to remove it and get a closer look. It was then that he realized it was an old bottle cap from a Scrumpy bottle and whatever initial feelings of gratefulness vanished. How ridiculously tacky.
"Ah, Spy!" The German accented voice made the Spy freeze, looking at him in something like horror as he watched the incoming Medic walk up to him, waving his hand in greeting. "I have been looking everywhere for you! Where have you been?"
"Around," Spy answered evasively, his eyes shifting, unwilling to explain it a second time.
"It does not matter anyway, just so long as you take this." Medic waved it away before holding out three pills. They were large gel capsules, and filled with an odd green liquid that the Spy didn't like at all.
"What are they?" Spy asked, exceedingly hesitant to put anything in his body when he didn't know what they were. Especially when the person offering was the Medic.
"Ah, well, you are currently on a very steady path towards lung cancer. These will prevent such a thing from occurring as well as let you keep smoking at the rate you are currently." Medic smiled at him, the Spy's expression changing from annoyed to downright shocked.
"What?" Spy finally managed to ask, blinking wide eyes at him. Medic's smile turned more tolerable.
"I had known for a while, to be honest, I believe it might be best to take them now rather than later, if you will come with me when you do it? The first two are to cough out the tar currently encased in your lungs, as well as heal any damage; the third will coat them in something a bit like an ÜberCharge field, only it won't be temporary and you can smoke as much as you like. It is highly unpleasant at first, as you are quite literally hacking your lungs up, and it will require supervision, so if you will come with me?" Medic asked, tapping his foot impatiently.
Spy stared at him, mouth opening and closing in something like horror, unable to form words as what he was hearing registered. "Why did you not give me these before?"
"Ah, well…I had been rather interested in seeing the effects first-hand. You will forgive me my curiosity, your case was going to be a particularly bad one, and it was going to be interesting to see how your body reacted." Medic responded cheerfully, the Spy not even daring to comment.
"And…you have the cure to cancer, and you have not given it out to people? Or patented it, or anything at all?" Spy finally managed to ask.
Medic scoffed. "Not the cure to cancer, the cure to lung cancer. Also, who precisely do you believe deserves to have such a thing? Smoking is a filthy habit, all those people doing their best to clog up everyone else's lungs, all because they are too selfish to simply not smoke at the table." He frowned deeply. "However, yours serve a very nice purpose, one I would be remiss in letting go to waste, so bitte, follow me. We shall get this over with and then you may sleep. You look like you need it."
Overwhelmed, the Spy simply followed after the Medic, the sound of his brain breaking echoing in his ears.
An hour later a shaky, sweaty, and utterly drained Spy stumbled out of the medical bay, a trachea, an esophagus, and a pair of lungs feeling as though they had been dipped in acid. The Medic swore it was a normal response and would fade in time. He hoped so. Unfortunately, it rendered his original shower redundant, and the Spy was nothing if not clean. He shuffled his way back to the shared bathroom, uncaring of the fact that it was currently occupied by another showering individual. Judging by the grease and oil spreading from underneath that particular stall, it was the Engineer. Spy cleaned himself, wrapped his lower body in the towel he had hung over the stall door, and stepped out of the shower at roughly the same time the Texan did.
Blue eyes flashed towards him, intent on heading to the lockers that the Spy was currently focused on, before what he was seeing registered. The Texan blinked, frowning as he tried to place the face that he was seeing, and then the Engineer jolted, looking away immediately and turning to face the opposite wall. "Dammit, sorry, Spy, didn't know it was you! I'm sorry, son, I swear I didn't see anything much…" Engineer hitched his towel up a little as it had started to slip due to his quick movements.
Spy grumbled under his breath before finally sighing. "It's fine, Laborer, I believe I trust you not to tell." It was that simple sentence that made the Engineer cease in his efforts to get a covert look at the man's face stopped, the Texan grinning sheepishly, rubbing at his nose. It also made the Spy want to bash his head into the wall. Where the hell had that come from? He really needed to sleep.
"Well, shucks, Spook, I'm flattered." The Engineer kept looking at the wall, that grin still present on his mouth.
Spy grumbled. "So, how is your walking sentry coming along?" Spy asked finally, quietly, unable to take the quiet, or the fact that someone had seen him without his mask on, however briefly.
"Actually, I quit trying to make it work. Two explosions when I'm attempting to make something is nothing to sneeze at, and that last one was a particularly bad one. Besides, you were right when you said it would be a pain to deal with. Considering you would have to go around trying to sap this thing, I can honestly understand why you wouldn't want to deal with it." Engineer answered, scratching the back of his head. The Spy blinked, looking over his shoulder at him.
"Really?" The surprise in his voice was obvious and the Engineer frowned.
"Sure. Like I said, you are a part of this team, and you do serve a purpose, I wouldn't want to make it impossible for you to do your job." Engineer nodded, the Spy blinking in surprise, barely managing to catch his disguise kit as it slipped through his fingers.
"Well…thank you." Spy blinked, finally grasping at his balaclava, gathering everything up in his arms and stumbling out of the bathroom, his balaclava pulled over his head sloppily, moving to his room with nothing but a simple hope that everyone would leave him the hell alone.
The sight of a braided leather chord with a single canine tooth on it hanging from his doorknob almost made him burst into tears of frustration. He finally managed to force his hand to reach out and take it and stumble into his room. He took the time needed to lock it behind him, using the nineteen different locks running up its length, and turned around to look at the shadows and lack of personal effects that made up his inner sanctum. It was then that the Spy looked down at the medal and the necklace in his hand, frowning, wondering precisely what to do with them. He looked over at the garbage can in the corner of his room, frowning at it in consideration. Finally he let out a sigh and walked over to the corkboard on the wall, examining it tiredly before pinning the medal to it and hanging the necklace over it, looking exceedingly out of place among the papers of intel and maps that covered it. He then flopped back onto the standard issue bed, complete with rusty springs, and crawled under the flimsy blankets.
As Spy slowly drifted off he took a deep breath, feeling his lungs fill with something like amazement at the realization that it no longer hurt, nor felt constrained in any manner. It had been so long since simply breathing felt so good, that he took another deep breath simply because he could. He removed the balaclava and looked over to the corkboard, something like happiness filling up his chest as he closed his eyes and felt himself slowly sink into slumber.
It was then that he remembered he had an image to retain and promised himself he would tell the men who had given him them that he had thrown them in the garbage where they belonged. The looks on their faces would be priceless.