There's no better place to set up a raccoon sanctuary than inside an abandoned hydrofacility, if you ask Soldier. Which no one does, as this a personal and completely classified mission he has chosen to take on, but damn if he won't marvel it aloud to himself every now and again. It's got everything! Water…lots of that. And food! Well, Soldier's been the one providing the food, but eventually the raccoons will grow big and strong and will start photosynthesizing food on their own.
He's once again patting himself on the back for this brilliant tactical maneuver when he hears that distinctive ooocrash again; coming from deeper in but further up.
Soldier pauses. He hears the dam's heartbeat, that rolling thunder that shows she's powerful and alive no matter what those festering mealworms say. There is the chattering of raccoons, waddling about his hunched form as they're momentarily distracted by the food (this distraction will not last long. Eventually, even a mealworm will turn), but beyond that there is only the flow of water. The thing that haunts the dam does not make its sound again.
It isn't until twenty minutes later when he lifts his head to the slight scrape of a foot sliding across pavement that he sees the man pointing a sword at him.
He stares at the man. The man stares back at him. Lt. Bites gets impatient waiting for him to produce more food, and chomps down on his hand.
It takes a few vicious shakes to dislodge the stubborn procyonid and toss him to the back of the line, but once Soldier looks at the sword-man he sees that his face is a mash of awkwardness and confusion.
"Er," swordman says. "…Sorry to bother you?"
"It's not a problem," Soldier tells him.
"…Didn't mean to…point a sword at you."
"Completely understandable! There are a thousand tin cans beyond these walls just waiting for a singular lapse in vigilance. If you weren't prepared, I would throw you out of my dam as a waste of air."
Only then does the stranger cautiously reach over his shoulder and shove his sword into its patchwork sheath. He looks around Soldier's gathered (and ravenous) family. "So…what exactly is going on down here?"
The Demoman turns out to be a good listener.
Soldier shows off each of the recruits, and only briefly stops to wonder if the stranger who appeared mysteriously out of the upper reaches of the cliffs is another shadowy figment of his imagination. To be sure, he gives Demo a pinch (oi! Wha' was that fer? ), and determines that this is as real a man as they come. He's fascinated and patient as Soldier holds up each raccoon and declares their name and rank.
"-And of course Private Pumpernickel!" Soldier boats. "Our newest!"
Pumpernickel, always with the poor manners, immediately tries to scratch her way free, waddling away indignantly as he drops her to the floor.
"And over here we have- huh. I guess that's everybody."
Demo, sitting on the stone floor blinks in amazement. Sargent Scratchy sniffs him with curiosity, but other than that he's flawlessly integrated himself into the afternoon feeding ritual. Unsure of where the thought comes from, Soldier feels he belongs here.
"Do you…live in here all the time?" Demo asks, watching Commander Poppin' Fresh and Admiral Buttercrust fight over the last slab of dried jerky.
"Negatory! Our base is located at the bottom of the dam. I only ever come here to feed the recruits every now and then." Soldier pats Major Damage on the head. The Major nearly takes a finger off.
"Ah." Demo pauses for a long time, his appraising look now trained on Soldier. Slowly, he says, "I'm from up on top of the cliffs. The ah, lookout tower."
"Up there?" Soldier looks skyward. "Good God man! That's right on the bot's territory."
"I know. That's…er…kinda why I came down here in the first place. We're not a large group, and you lot aren't a large group…" Demo aligns each of his index fingers to illustrate. "Got reason to believe the 'bots are mounting a push. Could claim the whole dam. Felt we might have a better chance if we joined forces."
"Then you are very poor negotiator," Soldier scoffs. "We would obviously not take you seriously unless you came in number and were also armed to the teeth!"
"About that…this isn't exactly a sanction mission," Demo says a bit guiltily. "My team doesn't know I'm here."
"You came alone into enemy territory? That's crazy talk private! Even our crazy doctor who is crazy knows not to do that."
"The others don't exactly trust me yet."
"Why?"
"I haven't really settled in and…" Demo glances away. Soldier sits next to him, ice rising from concrete to bones in ripe defiance of the fading summer heat outside. "There's the wee little detail that they all think I'm completely barmy."
"Why?" Soldier repeats.
"Spy caught me talking to my sword, for one." Demo rubs his hands over his face.
"You can talk to swords?" Soldier immediately shuffles around his ammo pack, going for the melee weapon strapped to his belt. "What does Shovel say? Quickly maggot, this is of the utmost importance!"
Demo blinks as Soldier produces the collapsible-grade, American-steel entrenching tool and gingerly sets it on the wall between them, leaning it upright and withdrawing his hands. He looks at Demo expectantly, hope shining in his eyes as he scoots back and waits.
"Er, it's really only the Eyelander that I can hear. Hm. Actually." He scratches his beard. "I've never really tried before. Give me a second."
Knees coming to rest on the ground, Demo points himself at the Shovel. He breathes in, and Soldier watches his chest rise and fall, the simplicity of it even in the deepest concentration.
Soldier whispers vociferously, "what's it saying?"
"Shush!"
Soldier presses his lips together, wrapping his arms over his knees, trying not to fuss as he watches. He can't help but let out a groan of disappointment as Demo leans back with a sign.
"No luck lad, sorry. If it's talking, I can't hear it."
To console it, Soldier pats his Shovel on the side of the blade. "Don't worry. Even if it can't talk, my shovel and your sword can still be friends."
Demo startles, but then a moment passes, the man cocking his head as though listening to something. A wicked smile comes over his features. "Oh I think that's an excellent idea."
He draws Eyelander and sets it beside Shovel.
"They're getting along famously!" Soldier declares as the two weapons sit side-by-side, completely motionless.
Demo's grin deepens. "Aye, Eyelander is absolutely loving this."
"What a perfect pair!'
"The bloody best."
"Our weapons should get married!"
"The good ideas just keep coming!"
They are halfway through the wedding preparations—shredded bits of black plastic tarps for streamers, handfuls of rice from Soldier's rations—when they are caught. Indisputably.
Heavy and Pyro, the latter taking an elbow to the face as Demo reacts in panic to the sudden appearance of two more of Soldier's team, catching them in the act of fraternization. Soldier isn't sure, but he thinks he hears a crack that may be a broken gas mask or a broken nose. He'd been coming back from somewhere near the catwalk, an old sheet in his arms, and it's clear that if he still had his sword in his hands Pyro's head would be separated from their neck.
Heavy, close behind, having investigated the noise from the dam only at Pyro's behest, asks no questions after that. Within seconds there are demands, raised palms, and Soldier finds one of two shotguns pointed at his own chest.
They're just tying up the prisoner—Pyro won't let Heavy restrain Soldier, they insist that they get the others' opinions first—when a BOOM resounds across the floodplain.
Covering their ears doesn't do much but jostle their mask painfully into their broken nose. It's half-off already, a handful of precious tissues up it, and their voice is a nearly incomprehensible muffle when they ask, "what was that?"
Heavy doesn't answer. He has this glare in his eye, ever since they found Soldier with the intruder, and it's honestly starting to scare Pyro a little bit. They all start running, Soldier too, and Heavy levels that glare at the back of Soldier's head. Soldier doesn't notice. He doesn't notice because as soon as they make it out of the bottom of the dam they are greeted with the sight of Medic dragging Engineer's body away from the generator building while it burns.
Pyro skids to a stop and their heart nearly does too. Medic is coughing, but as soon as he's gotten Engie to safety he drops down and begins applying pressure to the gushing wound in his head. To Pyro's incredible relief, Engineer stirs at this, faintly waving Medic away.
"What is this? What has happened?" Heavy demands as soon as they're close enough, his voice one part rage and two parts the worry that rage is disguising.
"One of the generators exploded," Medic explains, whisking off his lab coat and balling it up into a compress. "Engineer was standing quite close…"
"M'fine, m'fine," Engineer mumbles.
Pyro does think he looks fine. They kneel as Medic helps him to a sitting position, feeling every pulse in their little circle thrumming with adrenaline and the embryo of panic. Even Soldier looks distraught,
"Goddamn thing," Engineer says. "It was old but not that old…something must 'a got wrecked, or tampered with or…hell I don't know. It was fine last night when I checked."
Heavy's face has gone cold again. Pyro has Engie's hand between both of their own, and when they glance up they have the perfect angle to watch the wheels spin in his head. He turns on Soldier.
"You," he says, as threatening as the weight of the lake above them, always ready to drown them all. "You were near generator building this morning. Heavy sees this."
"Heavy," Engineer warns quickly. "Could'a just been a mishap. Ventilation system getting plugged up, or one of the hatches got blocked…"
And just like that a cold stone drops into Pyro's stomach.
Soldier scoffs at them both. "As if I would ever touch the corrupting machines of the enemy. I was not entering that temple of sin; I only went there to get the spare rations."
The mood among the homesteaders changes immediately. Even Medic, who has been trying to rip suitable bandages for Engie's head, stills.
"You. Take food from supplies?" Heavy says again, as though he doesn't quite believe it. "Why. "
"For the troops," Soldier says matter-of-factly. "I have been growing a robust colony of raccoons inside the dam for the past two months."
"You steal. From us." Heavy takes a step toward Soldier, and Pyro wants to stand up, to say something, but they are nailed to the floor beside the Engineer. "To feed vermin."
"How dare you! My troops are not- Ack!"
The sentence is cut short as Heavy reaches forward and grabs Soldier by the throat. Medic arises, furious, and storms toward the pair leaving Pyro to hold Engie upright.
"Stealing my medicine as well no doubt!" he fumes. "How long have we put up with you? You raving, idiotic, schweinhund . Herr Heavy, let him go, I wish to strangle him myself!"
"Hell," Engineer mutters.
He starts to get to his feet, and Pyro wonders vaguely if they should stop him but everything seems to be happening so far away, as if it's in some nightmare realm they should have never have to see. He limps up just as Heavy drops Soldier to the dirt.
"No one-" he huffs, "-no one's killing anybody, alright? We deal with this like we said we would." He points one portentive finger at Soldier. "Soldier. You're out."
Soldier, wincing under the effects of a bruised tailbone, snaps his head up sharply. "What?"
"Out. You're gone. Want you to hightail it out of here before sundown, or else."
"But I…"
The genuine confusion is gruesome. Soldier is not built to handle anything more complicated than a shotgun reload—seeing him try to comprehend what was happening is almost physically painful. Pyro feels the urge to blurt out, to come clean-
Medic crosses his arms. "He nearly killed you, and you are going to show him mercy?"
They close their mouth firmly inside their mask, guilt overwhelming.
"He was one of us," is all Engie offers. He looks down at Soldier. "Now go on. Git."
Understanding or not, Soldier knows it's over. To his credit, he rises with strength in his jaw and a last bit of dignity in his eyes as he scans them all over. They don't land on Pyro for more than a second.
Pyro whispers, "I'm sorry," as he finally turns towards the only path out of the basin and begins his march away. They don't think he hears them.