3. Sniper learning emotions with Engie
Let it be known that Sniper hated talking.
Everything about it made his skin crawl; small talk was his biggest enemy.
He's aware of the irony considering he hangs out with Scout and Pyro, but there's something about talking in a group setting that makes him want to peel his own skin off. It's like a buzzing in the back of his mind that starts to ramp up when around others, particularly with his own teammates.
It renders him mute.
Literally.
It reminds him of those few childhood memories he had, where kids were running around the classroom chatting away with each other, meanwhile small Snipes was by the bag racks still fiddling with the zipper on his bag. He remembers all his teachers that got angry with him and would send him to the office each time he refused to answer their questions, telling him that he was rude or being an attention seeker. His own peers would whisper about him, creatively dubbing him 'The Mute'. It really didn't matter to him; at the end of the day, he could lock himself up in his room and play with his toys.
His parents cared an awful lot though, but he got used to their disappointment long ago.
Honestly, they were disappointed he was a boy.
He couldn't really win with them.
He remembers them taking him to those special doctors in hopes of fixing him, apparently it was disgraceful that their only child was broken.
He remembers opening his mouth at the dinner table and telling his mother that he hated her. That memory was a little fuzzy, she had entered his room and took away his toys as punishment for getting in trouble again at school.
It had really pissed him off and to make it worse, it was the first thing he had said to her in months. And it was the biggest mistake he had ever made.
When his dad returned home, he remembered getting pulled by his collar towards the front door and was promptly locked outside in the night. It was raining heavily, Snipes enjoyed stomping in the puddles and running on the road.
He got extra punishment for returning messy however and he lost dinner privileges for three days.
Maybe that's why he avoids the team's dinner nights like the plague, its not really the team's fault that he had strict parents that often had him go hungry most nights. And its not the team's fault that even the thought of being surrounded by so many personalities makes him want to rip off his own skin like wrapping paper.
It just makes him itch.
Itch, itch, itch.
Maybe that's why he yelled at Scout; the kid kept pestering him about joining the dinners. Something about him not being alone anymore, what with him and Pyro now considered his friends.
Now, while that may be true it still didn't persuade the sharpshooter at all, it made no difference to him whether he was friends with the entire team or not. A group setting like a sit-down dinner was a little to close to home for him. Just the thought reminded him of those quiet 'punishment' dinners that his parents would set up, where Snipes would be forced to sit at the dinner table and watch his parents eat as 'motivation' to get him to talk.
It never worked, but at least he learned how to sneak food into his pockets.
It's just a habit that still follows him to this day, waiting for the others to finish their food and then he'll sneak back into the team kitchen to grab whatever leftovers were there. Unsurprisingly with such a big team there were basically only scraps left for him to grab, not that it bothered him all too much. He did have his own little kitchen in his van to use and he would often drive out to the forest edge near the base to hunt his own meals anyway.
When Scout discovered this, he was mortified.
Not about the hunting, but about the lack of proper dinner or really any food at all. It really bothered the kid for some reason, Snipes tried to reassure him but even that didn't work.
Things were said, words were yelled and now Scout was pissed at him.
It's been a few days since he's seen either Scout or Pyro, the latter probably trying to calm the kid down. Leaving the older man to stew in his own thoughts, something he found himself doing recently after their disappearance.
In hindsight it wasn't the youngster's fault, it was his own. When Scout kept getting more persistent about the dinners, it set the man on edge.
The itch had returned, and it was burrowing itself deeper into Sniper's skin. He could feel the gnawing panic creeping at the back of his mind, his fingers twitching, the edge of his vision getting blurry.
It felt like he was getting thrown back into that dinner table, he could feel his father's hands gripping his shoulders tight, nails digging harshly into his bones.
His mother's scathing words burning into his skin.
They say people have two responses when backed into a corner, fight or flight.
Sniper chose fight.
Like most memories, it didn't feel real when it happened; an outer body experience where he watched himself move towards the poor boy.
Scout had reared back in shock, eyes widening as he brought up his arms at the sudden shove from the sharpshooter. All too soon the fear that clouded the boy's eyes were replaced with matching anger.
"The fucks your problem!?"
"Get outta here Scout, I'm getting bloody sick of you!"
Itch, itch, itch.
Sniper blamed it all on the itch.
Fists were thrown, he remembered that much though who swung first no one could say. All Sniper knew was that he fucking regretted it. He regretted it all.
He especially regretted it when he saw his busted face in his little hang up mirror near his bed. His bottom lip had been split, left cheek was swelling up and had an ugly black eye on his right side.
Fucking perfect.
Though deep down, he was silently happy that Scout managed to get some good licks in, knowing that his own punches probably weren't any better.
The only good thing that came from this unfortunate event was that he was able to treat his injuries with no interruptions. Thankfully, the team wasn't scheduled for any battles yet and like hell was Sniper gonna visit the Medic for something as stupid as a fight – or visit him at all really. He could only hope that Scout was fairing better and getting looked after.
More days passed, and Scout was still ignoring him; without his presence the days went by noticeably slowly than before. Had it always been this quiet?
Suddenly, his van didn't feel the same anymore without the runner's background chatter to fill up the silence. He could feel the itch making its return once more, like an ant wandering underneath his skin, perhaps a whole nest of them furrowing their way into his bones, residing, and waiting. He was hoping that Scout would make an appearance again hell even Pyro as well, since the fight neither of them had so much as rocked up to his home once.
He could probably go to the base himself and find them, but he wasn't gonna risk running into another teammate. And besides what was he gonna do?
Apologise?
He already apologised to Scout once before about his earbuds, how could he know if the younger even wanted to hear another one? There were too many variables to consider before even attempting to socialise with Scout again.
Clearly the bugger wanted nothing to do with him, as demonstrated by his lack of appearance over the past few days.
And yet the itch remained throughout it all; probably would until he could fix things up with Scout.
Regardless, that wasn't the only problem Sniper was having.
A day after his fight with Scout, small containers of food had made its way to his van. All heated up and everything, most definitely leftovers from the team's previous dinners. Each night after Snipes wandered back to his van, he would see a small container – sometimes wrapped up in a cloth – comprising of leftover meat, soup or an assortment of veggies all warmed up just for him.
It was too much of a coincidence for it to not be related to the fight.
Yet, there were never any notes attached to the containers or footprints for that matter, which was strange considering the meals were often left at the door of his vehicle. It couldn't be the younger boys; Scout had stopped running past him in the mornings and Pyro had stopped visiting altogether.
Least he got what he wanted.
Now, he had no reason to go over to the base from all these leftovers he's been getting. Yet all the warm dinners could not comfort him during his silent nights, where his thoughts ran rampant in the dark.
If he was honest with himself, Sniper was disappointed in himself the most. Scout couldn't have known about his past, all the tyke wanted to do was have him join the team dinners. He could've just explained himself but no, he had to be difficult.
Itch, itch, itch.
It was aggravating that itch, taunting him with his mistakes.
Fuck it. He's got fix it with Scout.
With only a half-assed plan of finding the boy, Sniper marched down towards the base, finally leaving the cold confines of his vans after days of being alone. Each step he took grew more determined the closer he got; Snipes was tired of wallowing in his self-pity.
With much forced confidence, Sniper strides towards the team's kitchen, if he remembered the Scout's schedule (and he did), the kid would be having his midnight snack right about now. A perfect opportunity for Snipes to finally talk to the bloke and hopefully clear the air between them.
What he didn't expect however was Scout, Pyro and Engie talking amongst themselves in the kitchen.
Quietly, he peered around the corner of the hall, making sure to keep his body hidden beneath the shadows and out of sight.
Both the pyromaniac and Scout were sitting at the dinner table, while Engie looked to be cooking up some dinner; all three backs were turned away from him.
"I mean can you fucking believe that!? Who the fuck just lives off of scraps?"
Ah, seems they were talking bout him.
"I mean sure, whatever you don't like the rest of the team fine! But that's still no reason to miss out on dinner."
Pyro let out some muffled noises, reaching over to pat the Scout's shoulder before making some hand gestures; Scout slumped into his seat, seemingly thinking over what Pyro was telling him.
"Yeah, maybe I pushed him a little, but he snapped at me first! Made it seem like I was sentencing him to death or something."
Sniper subconsciously took a step back, the itch had started to increase the more Scout talked. He felt bad that the kid felt bad, Snipes did snap first, and it really was a heat of the moment kind of thing. He really needed to fix this; Scout didn't need this unnecessary guilt on his shoulders.
Yet, before he could step forward into the light, Engie had turned around from the stove, holding what appeared to be a small container.
Wrapped up nicely in a towel.
Wait a fucking second.
No.
That's ridiculous.
There was no fucking way Engie was the culprit behind the warm leftovers.
Fuck off right now.
"Now Scout, I think what Pyro meant was that maybe it was a bit too much for Sniper."
What is happening.
"Afterall it's only been recently that the pair of you have been hanging out with him right? Clearly the man values his personal space and was willing to share it with you, but maybe not with the rest of the team?"
"Shit, you're probably right, maybe I outta apologise to him."
"Couldn't help."
Nodding to himself, Scout stood up and leaned over the table to grab something hidden from Sniper's view. After a mumbled thanks to Engie, Scout soon left the kitchen through the opposite hallway, likely heading back to his room. Pyro soon followed, grabbing his own serving of leftovers from the pot before heading off.
Sniper thought about following them, but decided against it, the kid would probably see him in the morning and right now his itch demanded to find out what Engie was up to.
Taking a breath to calm himself, Sniper slowly removed himself from the wall and began walking towards the table. Engie had turned back around to clean up the bench area, but at the sound of footsteps he looked over his shoulder and was startled to make eye contact with the one and only Sniper.
"Good lord, you're as quiet as they say!"
The older gentleman clutched at his chest, bumping his back against the kitchen top.
Sniper offered him a small shrug in apology as he lowered himself into the same seat that Scout had previously occupied.
"Guessin you heard that conversation?"
A single nod.
"Got some questions?"
Another nod.
The corner of Engie's mouth twitched in amusement, with a shake of his head the man grabbed the wrapped box off the counter and placed it in front of Snipes, before sitting across from the silent man.
A comfortable silence fell between them as Sniper gently unwrapped the container and began digging into the food.
A thought suddenly occurred to him.
This was nothing like the dinners his family had.
There was no expectation for him to talk, no tension in the air.
And most importantly.
No itch.
Sharply, Sniper jerked his gaze up to the older man, a single word fell from his tongue.
"Why?"
"Why not."
Sniper narrowed his eyes, straightening his back to his full height in an attempt to intimidate the engineer.
He was not in the mood.
With a small huff, Engie leaned back into his chair as a sign to show he was not affected by the Sniper's little display.
"Don't think there needs to be a reason, just helping out a fellow teammate is all."
"You didn't need to get involved."
"Maybe not. But Scout cares an awful lot bout you, practically shaking when he came to me with his lil dilemma. Now, I can't fix much in terms of relationships, but damn could I do something bout a teammate practically starving himself cause he don't want to be around his own team!"
Engie's voice raised towards the end of his sentence filled with an emotion that Sniper could not place. It sounded pained?
But why would someone he never interacted with care about him?
Why would Scout care so much? Why would anyone for that matter?
It was strange.
And yet, Sniper felt oddly comforted by this.
Taking another deep breath, he turned his gaze towards the wall behind Engie and felt the words he's been holding in all week start to pour out.
The itch and come back full force, squeezing his throat and practically choking the words out of him.
He retold his childhood memories to the mechanic, stories upon stories of his upbringing and his own difficulties of talking. How his entire existence was an insult to his parents, that every breath he took was like a punch to the face towards his mum. How his own father would chase him out the house when he bothered him too much with his breathing. Or that one time when he got sent to the principal's for his lack of speaking and was punished via being dropped off near the wood's edges and left to walk home. He remembers this vividly cause they got extra pissed when he actually made it home. They really should've not left tire tracks then if they wanted him gone. What amateurs. Clearly they should've-
A clattering sound of plastic hitting the floor broke the Sniper's spiral.
A hand gripped the collar of his shirt as he was suddenly pulled up from his seat.
What was-
Oh.
He was being hugged.
Engie was hugging him from across the table.
When had he started shaking?
Why could he feel tears rolling down his face?
Why did the hug feel so nice?
Distantly, Sniper could hear the engineer's southern drawl spit filthy words of harm towards his parents, promises of inventing special torture devices just for them.
And Sniper just let himself melt into his hold, wrapping his own arms around the man.
"Why?" he whispered brokenly trying and failing to push back the sounds of his sobbing as he clutched Engie's back.
The older man responded with by tightening his hold.
"Cause I care for you son."
Sniper didn't respond, he couldn't.
It was the first someone's ever said that to him.
It felt nice.
Was this how his dad was supposed to be?
He'd never know.
"You ever want to get something off your chest or not feeling good, you head straight to me ya hear? Don't want no excuses."
Snipes nodded, head still resting on the engineer's shoulders, he couldn't bring anymore words out his throat; everything felt too tiring.
And yet he felt nothing but safe in the hold of the engineer.
Sniper closed his eyes and let himself be lulled to sleep, for the first time in years he left himself completely unguarded.
Since that fateful night things had started to shift. First, it was when Scout rocked up to his van and apologised which Sniper refused to accept since he should be the one apologising and he did, much to the annoyance of Scout who claimed it was his own fault. (The pair argued about and came to the consensus that both sides were guilty and it was all water under the bridge). Second, was Pyro's gift of another baby koala as an apology for not visiting the sharpshooter - which Sniper accepted immediately and added to his family, dubbing the little one Sheila. And thirdly, was unsurprisingly an update to his daily schedule.
Wake up.
Blast Scout's music for his workout.
Relax with the kid.
Clean van.
Steal food before the others arrive.
Check in with Engie.
Back into van.
Help Pyro with their colouring book.
Clean and check over his weapons.
Nap.
And repeat.