7:18 AM
CREEKFIELD, NEW MEXICO

Soldier wasted no time in storming out of the house. This was getting preposterous.

First Engineer and Scout abandon ship to go live a neutered life in the middle of nowhere, then Demoman and Heavy go missing in the same ritzy little dustbowl, and now Demoman's back, moving in like he's got nothing better to do.

Soldier could feel his blood boil then cool when he spotted his oblivious quarry.

Across the street and two doors down, Demoman was walking to a nice, black car wearing a nice black police officer's uniform like he had been there and doing that for years. A furious smile split Soldier's face as he watched his former teammate take his sweet, sweet time in unlocking the driver side door. He almost didn't notice that Demoman's eye patch was gone, as if his missing eye had been there all along. Soldier didn't really care about that right now.

"Demoman! What the hell do you think you're doing?" he shouted. Some of the neighbors' wives looked up from hedge-clipping in perfect unison, but ducked back down under Soldier's sweeping gaze.

"Startin' a new job on the force!" Demoman shouted back, smiling wide, "And it's Tavish now, mate!"

"Tavish my ass, you coward!" Soldier spat as he stepped onto the driveway, "We're on a mission, not retirement! Now get your ass back to Engie's!"

"Yer on a mission," Demoman corrected, "I quit, Solly. I'm done fightin'. My resignation's in the mail."

Soldier snorted and walked over to the mailbox in question.

"What're ya doin'?" Demoman asked, though he didn't try to stop the American, which was odd.

Soldier said nothing until he had rifled through the newly painted mailbox and retrieved the letter.

"Welcome back to the team," Soldier said as he ripped the envelope in two, then four and sprinkled it onto the sidewalk.

"That's litterin'," Demoman stated, but still smiled as if Soldier had done him a favor. The RED grimaced.

This wasn't like Demoman. The real one would have been wailing on him for fucking with his letter, but this one, this tame duplicate did nothing.

"Then arrest me, officer," Soldier welcomed the Scotsman with open, mocking arms. If Demoman wouldn't come to his senses, Soldier would just have to knock them into him.

"I s'ppose I should write ye a tick-" Demoman drew the small, yellow pad of paper only to come face to fist with a charging Soldier.

The car alarm whined as Demoman slid down the side of the vehicle, his left eye blackening. Then, just as Soldier was about to make sure he didn't knock his friend into next year, some over reactive defense instinct triggered deep inside the Scotsman's mind and he struck back.

Soldier was about to laugh as he and Demoman tumbled around the driveway, tossing animalistic blows just like the old days until he got a brief pause to really look at the other mercenary's face. It was a grinning mockery of the old Demoman. One eye swollen shut, but it was the wrong one. One eye open and staring as if in a drunkenly jubilant stupor, but it was the wrong one. Wrong clothes, wrong smile, wrong man, same man.

The car had attracted a small party of onlookers including Engineer and the team, watching the two men fight it out. Could they see what Soldier saw? Could they see this chipper (and probably 100% sober) clone that had stolen the old Demoman when their backs were turned? Or was Soldier whipping his peace-loving ass too fast?

Engineer watched with a dumbfounded look on his face as if he had never seen the two fight before, but made no move to stop either of them. Medic and Spy looked on with disapproval while Sniper looked like he wanted to join in. Pyro…

…

Where was Pyro?

Soldier's question was soon answered when he felt a weight shove him off of Demoman. He didn't even see the little firebug sneak up on him!

"C'mon, Pyro, let me have at-" Soldier thought Pyro was trying to come between his and Demoman's fight. However, he thought wrong. Horribly wrong.

Pyro had taken Soldier's place straddling Demoman and was now choking him, screaming wild, muffled screams.

"You don't gotta kill him, Pyro! He's not a BLU!" Soldier yelled. However, Pyro wasn't listening.

With a shaky, gloved hand, Pyro drove their index finger into Demoman's new eye with a sickening squelch.

Demoman choked out a scream as Pyro slowly dragged out the bloody remnants of his eye. Soldier felt pity for his teammate melt his frozen shock.

"Pyro, PYRO! You stop that right now, son!" Soldier stumbled to his feet and tried to pry Pyro off of Demoman.

The barking of dogs became apparent as paws clicked across asphalt and concrete.

"This is the Creekfield police! Dismount than man immediately!" a static voice crackled as a handful of policemen arrived on the scene, their canine companions forming a circle around Soldier, Pyro and Demoman.

Pyro was quick to jump off of the incapacitated man, backing against Soldier's chest. Soldier moved the shorter mercenary to the side and tried to step out of the circle of growling dogs. One of them, a Doberman, snapped at him and he stepped back.

A black Dodge Dart pulled up to the sidewalk that very moment, a familiar face stepping out. It was the mayor, concern darkening his great, pink face.

"What on God's green earth is going on here?" he asked.

"Assault sir. Miss Roberts called in scared out of her darn mind 'cause these ruffians were beating on her new neighbor!" one of the police officers reported, his megaphone held like a gun.

Mayor Campbell's eyebrows knitted together as he looked from Demoman who was being helped to his feet by Medic and a police officer to Soldier, whom Pyro hid behind as if to say "You two?"

"Sorry… sir," Soldier grumbled. It hadn't gotten out of hand until Pyro had joined the fray, but Pyro was a natural guerilla. It was almost all it could do. It couldn't even read, let alone be held accountable for its actions. "I started this."

"And it looks like your friend there did a doozy of a job finishing it!" Campbell reprimanded, "I thought you said you wouldn't go about causing trouble like this. I trusted you men."

"Again, sorry, sir."

The good mayor placed his hands on his hips and sighed, no longer looking at Soldier, "You know my boys here are going to have to take you in. I'm not gonna stop 'em."

"I'm aware of that. Sir."

Mayor Campbell smiled.

"Perhaps there's hope for you two yet, though. Come along," the old man gestured for Soldier to get into one of the patrol vehicles that sat across the street, hidden from the action and followed by a silent Pyro.

"Mr. Mayor, what are we going to do about Mr. Degroot?" an officer asked, sidling up to the older man.

"Tavish?" the mayor asked, noticing the semiconscious man slumped against his own car being fussed over by Medic, "Just load him in my car; I'll take care of him."

"Your car?" Medic asked, having overheard the mayor, "He needs medical treatment. You must call an ambulance!"

"Nonsense, my good friend. Here in Creekfield, we don't need ambulances or hospitals or any of that gobbledygook. I can take care of him," Campbell tried to relieve Medic of Demoman's body, but the German kept a careful grip on the Scotsman.

"You cannot be serious," Medic laughed, but one look at the mayor told him otherwise. His face fell slack with disbelief, "But you are…"

"You'll find that things work a bit differently out here," Campbell sighed, easing Demoman out of Medic's hands and picking him up bridal-style. The Scotsman's weight didn't seem to be a burden for the far older man. "Now I'm sorry to cut our chat short, but I've got a wounded man to treat."

7:52 AM

"Well now what? What the hell are we gonna do now?!"

Nobody would look Sniper in the eye. Nobody had an answer for him. Not yet, at least.

"Well?" Sniper asked. The crowd had since dispersed, leaving Sniper, Medic, Spy and Engineer standing around on the driveway.

"What do you want to do?" Medic asked sardonically.

:How about goin' over and bustin' Soldier and Pyro out of jail? How about finding out what the fuck happened to Demoman? How about finding out just what the bloody hell is going on in this place?!"

"How about I call Madame Pauling before you try to do anything stupid?" Spy bit, cutting Sniper's tirade off.

The Australian stared at him, his scowl digging deep into his face.

"Then what's stoppin' you? Go call her," he said quietly.

"Gladly," Spy stood up from his place on Demoman's front steps and stalked off, leaving three silent men in his wake.

Medic sighed and turned away from the others, hands clasped behind his back. There was ice to be broken, but nobody knew how to break it. Clearly, they had come into this mission overconfident and underinformed.

Finally, enlightenment struck.

"Engineer," Medic started.

"I keep tellin' ya to jus' call me Dell, Doc," Engineer interrupted good-naturedly.

"Ja. You also keep trying to convince me that I have a promising career waiting for me at the Creekfield dentistry. Anyways, I was wondering why you have been so quiet lately. Surely this has been as exhausting an ordeal for you as it has been for us…"

"I'm jus' glad to see so many of you fellas makin' the right decision to move into town with me. I sure would 'a missed ya if ya'll decided to stay in that terrible war…"

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Sniper asked incredulously, "'Sides Tavish an' Scout, nobody else on the team would dare move here!"

"You sure about that?" Engineer's warm, trademark smile seemed pasted to his face by this point, "Dimitri's started his own pet store an-"

"Dimitri? You do not mean our Heavy, do you?" Medic was hoping it was just coincidence that this mysterious new pet shop owner and his large, Russian comrade shared the same name. Where would En- Dell have even heard it? Heavy told Medic he was the only one on the team that knew his real name.

"Sure as sugar! Who else would I mean?" Dell laughed, unaware that Medic's entire body had gone rigid with a fierce natural instinct to reassemble his team.

"I must go," Medic stormed past Engineer and Sniper in the direction of the town center. He would get to the bottom of this if it cost him what little of his questionable sanity he had left.

"Medic, wait! You're daft if you think it's a good idea to split up even more," Sniper said, reaching out to catch Medic's shoulder. The German shrugged his hand off with a grimace.

"It is my duty to oversee the health and wellbeing of my teammates. Right now, they are ill with a sickness I cannot place. I will treat them, nonetheless." Medic's expression was set, his will obvious.

"You're bein' foolish and you know it," Sniper looked him in the eye.

"Of course. This place is a madhouse. Perhaps I must play into the fantasy to discover the cure."

Sniper released Medic with a wary eye, and Medic turned to resume his path, coat fluttering with a melodramatic air.

"Will you be home in time for lunch?" Engineer called.

Medic paid the question no mind, continuing on.

"Bloody loon…" Sniper muttered, kicking a rock and sending it skittering across the road where it lay incongruous with the black asphalt.

Engineer hummed thoughtfully and stuck his hands in his jean pockets.

"You know, garage is closed today. Don't got any work unless someone phones in a 'mergency," the Texan tried for smalltalk.

"Must be nice to have such a normal job," Sniper played along, disinterested. "'Remember the hours were your least favorite thing 'bout the battles. Wasn't a job but wasn't much of a war either. Aren't religious but ya sure do hate fightin' on Sundays."

"I jus' don't like killin' people. It ain't the peaceful thing t'do," Engineer sighed, though his disposition remained impossibly content.

"Hn. How would y'solve a great big, bloody mess like a war, then?" Sniper asked with a raised brow. Engineer may not have been the most trigger-happy on the team, but he didn't mind watching one of his sentries chew down the BLU team. He wouldn't even blink before blowing a Scout's knees out with a well-placed shotgun shell. Demoman really was right. This wasn't the Engineer he knew.

"Talk to the other side. Use persuasion an' get 'em to think jus' like me. It's the Creekfield thing t'do," Engineer turned to admire the horizon of two-story, manicured houses with a proud twinkle in his eyes as if he had built the town himself. "It's impossible to not feel that way after jus' one day of livin' here…"

"Can't say I agree with ya there, mate," Sniper looked across the same line of homes, but didn't feel the pride Engineer did.

When he looked back, Engineer was gone.

"Engie?" he called, but his voice disappeared into the air like a specter, unanswered. He had looked away for literally seconds.

"C'mon, ya bleedin' dingus. I ain't in the mood to play games," Sniper growled, scanning the street for signs of the Texan.

A familiar shiver ran down his spine, zapping a scar he had received several times over in his line of work. The sensation sent his mind back in the heat of battle. The early noon sun permeated the four dilapidated walls of his roost as his mind's eye led him in pursuit of his pursuer: a Spy masquerading as the Engineer. He was dimly aware that he had entered Demoman's new home, the door having been left unlocked. It didn't matter to him.

Swiftly, he walked through clean, sunlit halls so unbefitting to their owner that Sniper could only perceive them as dank, lonely hallways in the complex attic of some base that his mind had formed out off all the ones he had fought at. He didn't stop to acknowledge that his mind was spinning delusions around him, only that he had prey that thought it could hunt him.

There was no time to rationalize any reason the impostor Engineer would have run from him into the home in the first place, or realize that the kitchen he had just walked into lacked a liquor cabinet.

There was a shuffle of feet upstairs, and Sniper smiled. He crept through the doorway and up the stairs. When he reached the top, another flutter of footsteps revealed Engineer's location: the bedroom.

Sniper slowly crept down the hall and slid beside the doorway, quieting his breath. Then he opened the door with his foot and swiftly entered the room.

It was empty.

A modest earth-colored bed sat in the center of the spacious room, personal effects like a pair of reading glasses and a copy of Macbeth (a story Sniper knew Demoman had read hundreds of times) laying on the night stand. To the side, a door to a stylish, monochrome bathroom opened slightly without a sound. The window was closed.

'There you are,' Sniper thought, walking across the room with a smile. Without warning, a pair of hands shoved Sniper into the bathroom door as soon as he reached it. He was sent tumbling face-first into the sink.

Whirling around in a red fury, clutching his bleeding nose, Sniper lashed out at his attacker. He didn't need to see who it was to know it wasn't Engineer. The hands that had shoved him were too small, too delicate.

The marksman succeeded in knocking his assailant on her ass with a well-placed boot. It was an older woman, probably about a decade above him. Even in pain, holding onto a slender arm as she stood up, she was beautiful.

Sniper didn't see her as such anymore when she swung a red-heeled foot right into his crotch. He winced audibly and crumbled on the bathroom floor, grabbing onto his jeans, his hands effectively occupied before they were wrenched behind his back.

"Sorry for troublin' ya, Miss Roberts," Engineer said as he straddled Sniper, "This'll be all wrapped up in jus' a sec if ya don't mind standin' by…"

"Oh, it's fine, Mr. Conagher. A friend in need is a friend indeed!" Miss Roberts chorused, brushing a lock of curly blonde hair over her pale shoulder.

From out of his jeans pocket, Engineer produced a small syringe. The click it made when he uncapped it sent a whole new wave of struggles through Sniper.

"Let me go, you bloody bastard!" the Australian yelled, trying to buck Engineer off his back. He felt a jab in the base of his skull and instinctually put all his strength into flipping over, slamming Engineer into the sink and snapping the needle. The syringe clattered across the tiled floor as Sniper clambered up and into the bathtub on all fours like a wounded animal. His nose stung, his balls were sore and blood beaded around the protruding needle in his neck before slipping down in a thin, red line.

Engineer looked far better, only holding his aching neck as he searched for the syringe which had come to a stop behind the toilet. Sniper could see Miss Roberts' shadow stretch across the floor with the growing light of the approaching afternoon.

"Why- Why are you doing this, Engie? We're mates," the sharpshooter tried to reason, "You're supposed t'be doin' this shit to the other Sniper."

"Hopefully, his time will come. And with less of a struggle, too," Engineer assured him as he continued his search for the broken syringe.

Miss Roberts entered the room with an inquisitive pout and opened the medicine shelf behind the bathroom mirror, rummaging through it like it was her own.

"Dell," she said sweetly, tapping the short man on the shoulder, "Why don't you just use these?"

Engineer gave up his search for the syringe and accepted the little plastic bottle of sleeping pills from Demoman's neighbor.

"Much obliged, Sue," he nodded as he began to approach Sniper who slumped in the bathtub, fatigued.

With no second thought and the last of his energy, Sniper struck out and kicked Engineer in the face, propelling himself out of the tub and onto the floor. Ungainly in his confusion, Sniper flopped around the doorway and into the bedroom, grabbing a fistful of Miss Roberts' dress for leverage in the process.

"Pervert!" she screeched as she yanked her garment out of his grasp and kicked him across the shiny wooden floor.

Sniper winced again as her heel dug into his side, bending his rib cage. His exit was eclipsed by Engineer who had the regretful look of a young man about to put down a rabid dog.

"Please hold still, pardner. You've been through an awful lot already," the Texan whispered as he took Sniper in a firm grip and situated him against the side of the bed.

"Thanks to you, traitorous son of a bitch…" Sniper muttered, regretting his words as Engineer grabbed his jaw and held it open. A round of clicks echoed through the room as Engineer emptied a generous amount of pills into his hand.

"Let's pray this won't kill ya before we can get ya over to the mayor's," Engineer said, holding the handful of medicine at Sniper's lips, "Bottoms up!"

8:20 AM

The little bell above the door jingled as someone entered the pet shop on McCarthy Street.

"Hello? Heavy?" Medic asked as he walked past cages of sleeping canaries and docile goldfish. There seemed to be every sort of pet under the sun lining the shelves of the store. Every sort of pet except cats…

"Dmitri?" He tried again.

The store seemed devoid of human life, and eerily quiet despite the abundance of perfectly healthy animals just waiting to be taken home. A faint trail of "Waltz of the Flowers" echoed from the back room, the grace of the music almost tangible in the light of the morning.

'Perhaps he fell asleep in the back room, the idiot,' Medic thought with pursed lips as he progressed through the store.

A sudden bark caught him completely off guard. Apparently there was one animal that was awake in the room. It was a Labrador pup with a milky, white-yellow coat.

"Well hello there," Medic cooed, stooping to pet the puppy. Its tail wagged enthusiastically as it allowed the strange man to run his even stranger hands along its back.

"Ana!" a familiar voice boomed from the back room. The puppy leaped up and padded into the room through a little dog-door with a yip.

Medic followed her, sighing. Of course Heavy would have a soft spot for animals.

He tried the doorknob only to find it wouldn't budge. Locked. Medic sighed again, this time in exasperation as he got on his knees and pushed up the red plastic flap of the dog door, looking into the back room with curious eyes.

The room was dimly lit, but warm with life. The fearsome Heavy that Medic knew was nowhere to be seen, replaced instead with a gentle giant rubbing his nose against his puppy's. It was a very stark contrast to what Medic was used to.

Medic let the flap fall again and jerked to his feet when he heard a chair scrape across the floor.

"Who is there?" Heavy grumbled from the other side of the door.

Medic cleared his throat and knocked.

"I am wondering about how much the little Labrador I just saw was," Medic lied. He heard footsteps thump across the floor before the door opened. There Heavy stood in casual clothes, an apron secured around his front. Ana was under his left arm, tiny against the Russian's muscles yet perfectly comfortable.

"I am sorry but you are mistaken. Ana is my dog. She is not for sale," Heavy clarified kindly, "Could I interest you in any of the other dogs?"

Medic raised a brow. Did Heavy not recognize him?

"Heavy," he began with a pause, "You do know who I am, ja?"

"You are man who is not buying Ana from me," Heavy laughed, seemingly ignorant of his friendship with the shorter, slimmer mercenary in front of him.

"We worked together, Heavy. We should still be working together," Medic said, massaging his temples, "What do you think you are doing here? We have a war to fight. Do you want the BLU team to win?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," more ignorance, "But if you do not want to buy pet, I will have to ask you to leave…"

Medic's lips formed a thin, tight line.

"Fine. Good day, Dmitri," Medic turned to leave.

"Good day, Doctor."

Medic stopped mid-turn and spun back around.

"What did you say?" Medic asked hopefully.

"I said good day, Doctor," Heavy said, "You are doctor, da? Red cross on your arm is sign of doctor."

Medic looked at his sleeve, his frown returning. "Oh."

The bell jingled once more as Medic opened the door and slammed it shut behind him, awaking the birds by the window in a chirping panic.

The sun peeked over the tops of buildings, gazing down Medic's neck as he walked down the street, dejected and infuriated. It was a strange mix, fighting over the tension in his aging bones and warping the smog in his thoughts. It made him upset that his closest friend didn't recognize him, and mad that this same friend had chosen a town and a pup over him. The sun rotted these feelings in its muggy embrace.

He'd have to tell Spy and Sniper they'd lost yet another man to the madness of this town. They hadn't just failed to recover two alleged deserters; two more deserted in the time they had been here, as well as the two they had lost to the authorities. Medic wondered how Soldier and Pyro were faring in the town jail. He began to wonder if the town even had a jail, considering its citizens were apparently too perfect for a hospital.

Medic stood still in his tracks.

What if they had let whatever unknown force that was lurking within the town limits claim two more of their men from right under their noses? It all made perfect sense, after all; kidnap Engineer and Scout, brainwash them into staying and carrying out some domestic duty they were needed for, then similarly assimilating anyone that comes after them if they start trying to uncover the truth!

A shiver clutched Medic's spine and shook him silly with paranoia. He was one of the people who needed to be assimilated. Spy and Sniper, too. He had to warn them! They had to leave now-

"Doctor!"

Medic screamed as a large hand came down on his shoulder. He wheeled around so fast he stumbled over his own heels and fell on his rump.

Heavy stared down at him with the look of a child that had just knocked over one of his mother's vases.

"Sorry," he said dumbly, offering a hand to help Medic up.

"It is fine. What do you want?" Medic asked, politely refusing the hand. He also noticed that Ana was not with Heavy. Must be back at the pet store.

"Doctor, guess what? I remember you now!" Heavy was positively thrilled about his enlightenment.

"You do?"

"Da, I do. And you have been calling me Heavy because I am Heavy Weapons Guy!"

"Ja," Medic smiled, "You are!"

"Now, Doctor, you must come! I must show you thing I found out about this place!"

"Is that why you were not home last night?"

"Are catching on now. Smart man. Da, now come. I will show you discovery."

"Alright, but we must return to Engineer's home as soon as possible. I made my own discovery and it's imperative I share it with the others! Soldier and Pyro's lives as they know it could depend on it!" Medic said as he allowed Heavy to lead him back to his store, feeling secure in the enormous shadow that had protected him through so many battles. How could he ever think Heavy would betray him?

8:05 AM
EARLIER

Engineer's front door slammed open. Spy had no capacity for unnecessary stealth at the moment.

"Where is it…" he muttered to himself as he searched the living room for a phone. He could swear Engineer had one.

"On the kitchen counter, hoss."

"Merci," Spy said as he hurried into the kitchen. He then stopped in the doorway when the owner of the voice registered in his mind. He looked at Engineer, who stood in the doorway, blocking most of the light. "Where is Sniper?"

"Said he wanted to check with the mayor about somethin'," Engineer shrugged, "Maybe he was eyein' a house 'round here.."

"…Is that all you ever think about?" Spy asked, "Petty real estate and cooking meals? Hmph, it is like you've been neutered."

"You don't mean that," Engineer chuckled as Spy picked up the phone. "We're pals."

"You never considered us that before," Spy said as he dialed. When he held the receiver to his ear, however, there was no ring. Only a dead tone.

"You know the phone line's exclusively local…" Engineer said, joining Spy in the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water from the tap, "You can't call anyone outside 'a town. It's against the law t'even try."

"Why didn't you tell me that earlier?" Spy hissed, returning the receiver to the cradle with restrained anger. He could feel the muscles in his forearm tighten and knot up, twitching for the gun secured under his arm in its holster.

"Didn't think it would be a problem," Engineer shrugged, "But you fellas've continually proven to be a threat to the community. You can't let vermin know they're in a trap until the cage comes down. They'll jus' escape and spread more disease…."

Spy was silent as the gears in his mind ran a mile a minute.

"A lot to process, I know," the brainwashed Texan grinned emptily, "But it'll sink in eventually. Jus' don't worry yer handsome lil' head. Movin' into Creekfield will be the best decision of your life, hoss."