Ten more seconds of limbo and then back to life once more.
Scout staggered around before coming to a halt inside the blood-spattered BLU respawn room. The match was over.
He had failed.
"Shit." He swore, coming to a rest against the respawn room's health locker. His chest still hurt from where the rockets had hit only seconds ago.
Or what seemed like seconds ago. A quick glance at the room's clock showed that it was now six in the morning, a full four hours after the match.
Standing up, he looked around the white and blue room. It was empty of any life except for the pale form of one of Medic's many doves, who sat in the rafters, eyeing Scout suspiciously.
The bird let out an indignant coo and flew down onto his shoulder.
Scout sighed and walked towards the room's exit. He knew the rest of the team was going to be pissed when they found out about what he did - despite the doctor's questionable practices, nobody in the entire team would ever disobey a direct order from him, especially regarding their health.
He cautiously stepped outside the respawn room. While most the team wouldn't be up for another hour or so, he still had be careful for the likes of the Soldier and the Sniper. Running into one of them would not be a pleasant experience right now.
He grumbled something and reached a hand into his bag to grab a can of crit-a-cola. Withdrawing nothing, he suddenly stopped and pulled the back off his back and unzipped it fully, rummaging around in it. There had to be another can here somewhere….
Finding nothing but ammo and magazines, Scout groaned and slung the bag back over his shoulder . He was tired and no soda meant nothing to keep him awake and active.
He paused for a moment as he contemplated his options. He could go back and hide in his room for the rest of the day, and face the team later when their tempers had hopefully simmered down and he was back to thinking clearly. Or he could stay here and endure the team's lectures as they woke up one by one.
Choosing the first option, he started to stealthily make his way through the base in the direction of his room.
He had made his way through the kitchen and was approaching the common area when a noise in the room ahead made him stop.
There was the sound of someone muttering in German and the rustling of papers as the room's occupant stirred.
Scout froze, unsure of what to do. Sneaking a glimpse into the other room, he caught sight of the Medic sitting at the room's table, his back to scout as he sat reading a newspaper, a large cup of black coloured coffee beside him.
Scout jerked his head back and considered his options. There was another way to the dormitories, but that requires going outside, and outside ment into the range of Sniper's scope and Soldier's daily yelling at heads. Or, he could sneak around Medic.
Choosing the latter, he got down on the ground and started to crawl into the room.
He had gotten about halfway across the room when suddenly, the dove that had been following him since respawn let out a squawk and flew over to its master.
The German's head snapped up at the noise, brown eyes searching the room for the cause of disturbance.
Scout lay on the ground, completely silent and praying that the man didn't get up and search the room himself.
"Guten tag Scout." He said, eyes flicking back to the newspaper. "I know you are down there."
Scout swore as he stood up, brushing himself off. How the freaking hell had Medic seen him? He was awesome at stealth! And he didn't need a stupid watch like Spy either! Muttering under his breath, he sat down at the opposite end of the table.
There was a silence as Scout expectantly looked at Medic.
"Go on." He finally said, unable to take the suspense. "Yell at me. Tell me I was being stupid and that I could'a killed myself."
"And why would I do that?"
"'Cause… 'cause it's what ya do. Hell, its what everyone here does. at me at least."
"And why do they do that?"
"I dunno."
"Because they see you as a child." The German replied, folding the newspaper and putting it to the side.
"A kid!? I ain't a kid! I'm freaking adult!" Scout indignantly protested. "How old do ya think I am? I'm freaking twenty-three!"
Medic gave scout a withering look.
"Fine. Nineteen. In a month. But still, just 'cause I ain't ancient or been in the freaking war don't mean I ain't a force to be reckoned with. Why the hell would they think I'm a freaking kid!?"
"Perhaps because you are reckless..."
"Reckless?! I ain't reckless!" Scout exclaimed. "I'm brave! That's what I am! I ain't afraid of anything! 'Cept maybe Pyro. But hell, everyone's scared of that… thing."
"There is a line between the brave and the reckless Scout. A fine one, but it is there."
"Yeah, well, does it matter what ya freaking call it? I still got more guts than ya! Doncha think it's a little hyp-o-critical you're telling me this crap, Herr Lets-all-hide-behind-Heavy?" Scout leaned back on his chair and grinned broadly, evidently thinking that he'd won the argument.
Medic groaned in annoyance and rubbed his temple. He had barely gotten any sleep last night (or, to be entirely honest, that week) and in retrospect, engaging an argumentative (and probably tired) Scout first thing in the morning without coffee or any form of painkiller to fortify himself was a rather idiotic move.
There was the sound of a door opening, followed by the sound of shoes against stone as the tanned form of Sniper appeared in the room's doorway, an empty thermos under his arm and a (still warm) jar of jarate in his hand.
"G'day doc!" he said cheerily, wandering over to the table where the duo sat. Putting the jar down next to Scout – who instantly recoiled from the container of yellow fluid – he took off his hat and sunglasses, examining the pair for a long, hard moment.
"And you mate, you bloody well need to explain yourself for last night." he said, pointing a torn and bitten fingernail at Scout. "What the blood hell were ya thinking, disobeying doc like that?"
The doctor in question sighed, glad that someone that wasn't him was dealing with the loud-mouthed brat that was the Scout. He sat there, half listening to Sniper's lecture as his mind slowly faded into the enveloping darkness of sleep.
Scout looked around him, panic starting to fill him. An hour had gone by since Sniper had appeared and the rest of the team had come down, and all of them (with the exception of Medic), were staring at him.
Normally, Scout would have revelled in such infamy, but now was not such a time. The only ones not staring at him accusingly were Medic, who was lying face down on the table, having long since fallen asleep, and Pyro, whose clouded glass eyes made gleaning any emotion from whatever being wore that blue suit an impossible task.
The lack of sleep from the night before was starting to catch up with him as he found himself staring at the sleeping man across from him, wishing that he could just conk out on the table like Medic had.
"Ah don't know what ta say here Scout. Ya disobeyed a direct order from Medic 'imself."
"What the fecking hell were you thinking, ya bloody ediot?"
"What the freaking hell guys! I went out there and got the freaking intelligence like I'm meant to! Boom! Problem solved! You guys should be freaking prasin' me, not yelling at me like some kid! Hell, we would'a won that if ya didn't try an' keep me outta the game for no freakin' reason!" Scout stood up to go, having finally had enough of the team's whining.
"Scout, zat is not zi point!" Spy growled, moving to block Scout's path.
"Yeah? Well then, what is the freaking point already? 'Cause I ain't seeing one!"
"The point," Soldier yelled, pushing Spy out of the way. "Is that you disobeyed a DIRECT ORDER private! I should have you DISCHARGED for this DISGUSTING breach of rules!" he jabbed a finger at Scout's chest. "First yesterday and now THIS?! What do you have to say about this SCOUT!?"
"Yesterday?" Scout asked. "What the freaking hell did I do yesterday?"
"You physically ASSAULTED an OFFICER private!"
The room went silent as thirteen eyes stared at solider in confusion.
"I did what no-" Scout's sentence was suddenly cut off as his face erupted into a large, shit-eating grin. "Freaking hell! I remember! I freaking knocked you out!"
The eyes turned to Scout and his scrawny figure with scepticism.
"What?! Ya think these guns are for show?" He said, pumping his arm in an attempt to show off his (non-existent) biceps. "Christ, that was awesome! How the freaking hell did I forget that?"
There was a collective groan from the entire room as he said this, followed by the team shuffling away, not wanting to listen to a bout of Scout's boasting.
Scout collapsed back on chair, fatigue suddenly washing over him. He hadn't slept or eaten since the beginning of the match seven hours ago and his lack of energy was starting to catch up with him. The high intensity of his job meant that Scout had to spend a lot of time eating in an effort to replenish his lost energy, else he'd collapse to the floor in (worst case scenario), an exhaustion induced coma.
It'd happened once before and Scout was not willing to let it happen again. They'd pulled an all-nighter at 2fort, and Scout had gone for seven straight hours of intensive running without a break of any kind. In the end, he'd passed out on the respawn floor, awaking three days later in Medic's office with half his organs missing or replaced and what he'd described as 'the worst burnout ever'.
The worst part was that the match had still ended in a stalemate.
Leaning forwards onto the table, he yawned and put his arms under him as a makeshift pillow. Food could wait. he needed to sleep.
Two, three hours went by before Scout woke up again. Scout yawned and sat up, his stiff joints cracking as he stretched his arms back behind him.
He was feeling a bit better, but now he was phenomenally hungry.
He looked around, only to find that someone had placed a bucket of chicken and a can in front of him. The chicken had begun to cool and congeal and the soda was now lukewarm but Scout didn't care as he grabbed the two food items and ate them at an impossibly fast speed.
Having done eating, Scout sat back and fully examined the room.
Medic still lay on the table in front of him, apparently having not moved a millimetre since he'd fallen asleep four hours ago. Beside him, two of his doves fought for a chicken wing that had gone astray in scout's haste. Scout had no idea which of the doves were in front of him – Medic had half a dozen doves and aside from the bloodstained Archimedes, they all looked the same to him.
To his left, next to the room's window, stood the Pyro, an over-stuffed burrito leaking red-hot sauce in its left hand. Scout watched in interest as the thing lifted the bottom of its mask up to stuff a bite of its lunch in its mouth and then pulled it back down in an action so fast that the only thing Scout saw was a glimpse of the things eerily pale skin
"Uh… hey Py." scout called, instantly attracting Pyro's attention. It turned to him, quickly repeating the action as it crammed the rest of its lunch in its mouth.
"Christ… did'ya just eat that thing? As in, without any water or somthin'?" The thing walked over and nodded, its moving jawline faintly visible through the rubber of its mask.
"Jeez… you really are freakin' insane."
Pyro shrugged as it pulled up a chair and sat down at the table.
There was an awkward silence as Scout looked around the room, desperately trying not to make eye contact with the thing. He was hoping that if he ignored Pyro for long enough, the thing would go away and leave him in peace.
The Pyro however, didn't seem to be so inclined.
"So… uh… I'm gonna go get another drink…" he finally said, indicating his empty soda can. "You want anything?"
"Ymph. M bhmpbph."
"Uh… can't understand ya mumbles."
The thing let out a muffled groan and pointed to the room's couch, where someone had deposited an inventory's worth of hats, including the yellow form of the potassium bonnett.
"Oh. A banana?" pyro nodded.
Scout shrugged and got up to leave the room. Why anyone would willingly consume fruit when you could eat something much better tasting was way beyond him.
Muttering to himself, scout entered the kitchen and made his way to the fridge. Opening the fridge door, a waft of cool air escaped, temporarily tainting the room with the smell of beer, cheese and piss. Scouted pushed aside several mason jars full of yellow 'jarate' and a plate of (slightly furry) white, runny cheese, revealing a half opened cardboard box of purple soda cans. Taking two, Scout withdrew his head from the fridge and let out a relieved breath.
Shoving one can in his bag, Scout closed the fridge.
"Salut."
Scout started and nearly dropped his can as the frenchman suddenly materialised into thin air uncomfortably close to Scout's left ear.
"Christ!" Scout yelled, spinning around to face the suddenly visible Spy. "What the freaking hell dude?!"
"Did you think zat I was done with you Scout?"
"Jesus… Spy, just go away already, 'kay? Nobody likes you."
"Hmm… I think know someone who'd beg to differ…"
"Look pal, Pyro's in the other room an' if ya dont get your French ass outta my face, I'm callin' her over. You got that pal?"
"And what would that do, Hmm?" The Spy said, indicating at his blue suit.
"Thphm?" Spy was suddenly shoved forwards as a blinding blue flare suddenly made contact with the back of his head, setting him on fire. His illusion dissolved, revealing a red suit as the impact of the shot sent both him and Scout sprawling to the ground.
The Spy let out a dissatisfied 'hmph' before falling limp on top of Scout.
"Christ…" Scout muttered as he pushed the corpse off him, the stench of cooked flesh starting to fill the room. "Uh… thanks again?"
Pyro gave scout a thumbs up before putting the Scorch Shot down and moving over to the kitchen bench, where a fruit bowl of bananas lay.
"Could'a given me a warning though." Scout complained, standing up and giving the burnt body a kick.
Pyro shrugged and picked up a banana from the bowl.
"So… uh… hey! Didya hear what happened on Monday?" Pyro shook its head and opened the banana "Oh man… it was awesome! So, we at gravel pit right? Well, there was this Heavy right.…"
Changelog 1-6-16
+ added chapter
/story is now available on AO3 if you want to read it there! hooray! same author, same title.