8:00 PM
CREEKFIELD, NEW MEXICO

Heavy Weapons Guy had yet to return to Engineer's house. Granted Sniper had slunk in at seven; an hour later than their group's agreed return time, but unlike the Australian who had retired to bed as soon as Medic saw his face, it was not like Heavy to arrive late. And over two hours, at that.

Plastic dice clattered across cardboard as Pyro took their turn with the boardgame Soldier unearthed from Engineer's closet.

"What time's Heavy getting home?" Engineer called from the kitchen where the hiss of hot water matched the ghost of steam in the yellow light. He was cleaning the dinner dishes.

"He should've been home two hours ago," Soldier called back before turning to move his little green gingerbread man through the area on the board titled "Molasses Swamp".

Engineer stuck his head out of the doorway.

"He couldn't have gotten lost, could he?" the Texan asked.

"It is possible," Medic said, massaging his temples. Heavy was by no means as stupid as he looked, but the Medic had begrudgingly adopted the mindset of a painstakingly vigilant worry wart some time during his years in the war. Respawn misplaced this, respawn did that… doctor, doctor, doctor.

"I… I could call the authorities!" Engineer offered, "They could send out a search unit and help him home within the hour!"

"Let's not make a mountain out of a molehill," Soldier interjected, "Heavy's no moron, he's just… slow. Literally. He's probably on his way back right now."

The door opened and closed, drawing everyone's eager attention. However, instead of Heavy, it was Spy who stood by the door, cigarette absent from his lips as Engineer had requested earlier at dinner.

"Where were you?" Engineer asked, "Didn't even know ya left…"

"I stepped out for a smoke," Spy's response was terse. After Engineer disappeared back into the kitchen, Medic followed Spy to the couch and sat down with him.

"Where were you really?" he whispered over his shoulder so as not to rouse Soldier or Pyro's attention as they played their game.

"At Scout's. Intercepting correspondence," Spy's tone remained clipped, but at least he was yielding information.

"You were going through his mail?"

"I had to see what he was writing to his mother, that is, if he was writing to her at all."

"I forgot he does that," Medic relaxed into the couch, tossing one leg over the other, "What were you expecting him to write about?"

"At the moment, I cannot afford to expect anything," Spy produced an envelope from his coat pocket, "Do you mind?"

"Nein, go ahead," Spy used his balisong to slit open the envelope in a flash of silver and began to read the letter. Curiosity got the best of Medic and he began to read over the saboteur's shoulder. It seemed to be an ordinary letter, mainly detailing how he found a more domestic job at a law firm and how he had met the love of his life. But like Spy had said, at the moment he could not expect anything. It was not until the end of the letter did the Scout's writing become suspect.

Within the details about their wedding, which was slated to occur on the same day as the town's anniversary picnic in just three days, Scout had taken extra care in mentioning that because it was the town's anniversary, only citizens of Creekfield were invited. Visitors were not even allowed within town limits on that day.

Medic wondered what this development for his team, or what remained of it.

"He seems to be cutting off contact with her," Spy concluded, folding the letter back up before Medic could finish it, "Either that, or he's strongly insinuating that she move in before then. Both are plausible enough."

"And the anniversary picnic?" Medic asked, "We are still guests here, after all. It seems like in three days, we will have overstayed out welcome."

"It does complicate things," Spy said, "We're going to need to move faster if we want to make it back to Doublecross by our new deadline."

"So what's the initiative, then?" came a third voice.

Medic and Spy turned their heads to see Soldier and Pyro had been listening in on them for some time. Candyland sat untouched, the journey to Candy Castle on hold.

"We retire for the night," Soy decided, "I will call Madame Pauling in the morning to report our findings and she will assist in deciding our next move."

"And we drag our men back to Doublecross by their ears if we have to!" Soldier made an example by grabbing his own ears and tugging on them. Pyro found the act amusing and clapped.

"If it comes to that, oui." the Frenchman allowed a yawn to escape his lungs.

7:05 AM
PYROVISION

Pyro's bleary eyes opened expecting a baby blue sky, and blinked shut again when her vision was greeted by a beige, lifeless ceiling instead. Sand-colored and barren like an upside-down desert.

Pyro knew Soldier would be in soon to call everyone down for breakfast. He was looking forward to the meal if only because the smell of the stove would soon reach his nose and carry word from Pyroland along with it. His connection to Pyroland was weakening by the day.

So long as Pyro's friends were here in Creekfield, her rainblower would be off limits. So long as her rainblower was off limits, no rainbow road.

No rainbow road, no Pyroland.

Pyro wanted to behave. He wanted to be good so Engineer and Scout would come home and he could return to Pyroland once more, but it was getting hard to play Goody McDummyshoes.

It seemed as if this Creekfield was fireproof, which didn't help matters at all. All of the inhabitants were like nothing Pyro had ever seen. There was something timeless about them that seemed so immune to the fantastic chaos of life that she embraced like a cherub. Pyro's cherub. Didn't they know that chaos was the pilot light to the magnificent fiery portal that led to Pyroland?

Pyro's thoughts were interrupted by rap-rapping on the door. It was probably Soldier. Pyro was quick to don his safety suit and mask so he could answer the door.

Sure enough, Soldier was waiting in the hall, soldier-y as ever.

"Morning, private!" he greeted with a salute. Pyro wished he wouldn't talk so loud.

"Good morning," She responded. She could smell breakfast now and with it, a faint and sweet whisper from the meadows of Pyroland.

'Beware!' a small voice implored. The single message sent a buzz down his spine as if Queen Bumblybee was hosting a gala in his bones. Beware of what?

Pyro followed Soldier out of the garage and into Engineer's house. The smell of cooking was stronger now and with it, laughter and song as if Pyro's beloved kingdom was just out of sight. A specter in the corner of her eye.

Pyro saw his friends slowly emerging from every corner of the house, tired and hungry just like him. The only one who wasn't a sleepy-head right now was Engineer.

Pyro swallowed.

As he had for the past few days they had been staying with him in Creekfield, Engineer looked less… well, like Engineer.

He looked newer, handsomer, and by all means better, but Pyro couldn't help but fear him now.

Her favorite playmate in the world had become as strange and plastic as that Joanna lady.

"Good mornin', fellas! Did ya hear the news?" Engineer turned to greet his friends as they took their seats. Pyro avoided eye contact, hiding behind his mask's smoky lenses.

"Non," Spy led a chorus of negatory confirmations. Engineer chuckled.

"It seems we've got ourselves a new neighbor!" Engineer happily announced, "It's our ol' friend Tavish!"

Medic choked on his pancakes while the rest of the team sputtered in disbelief.

"What?!"

'Beware…' the herald of Pyroland urged once more from the sizzling sausages on Pyro's plate. She felt as if her heart had been weighed down by a cold, unfeeling brick.