4. Sniper drinking away his problems with Demoman

The moment he woke up, the sharpshooter just knew it wasn't going to be a good day. It was something in the air that told him, everything was about to go to shit.

And unsurprisingly, he was proven right.

First it was the heavy rain in the morning, something that usually wouldn't bother him except this time it meant he'd miss out on time with Scout. The runner had weaselled his way into the man's heart and though he'd never admit it out loud, he'd actually silently mourn the fact that he couldn't talk with the younger man.

Not only was talking with Scout an essential part of his routine now, but their morning discussions had also become something that prepared Sniper for his day. The mindless chatter with music playing in the background while the two lounged outside was something that greatly eased his mind. Something so small and trivial had really become a staple in his mundane life, now that he had to deal without it, well, it certainly put a damper on his mood.

And it would only get worse as the days progressed.

Without Scout to rely on, Sniper found himself unusually more tense, more agitated than what would be considered normal outside his profession. He was left to his own thoughts as he cleaned his van, though a bit more quietly and quicker seeing as he had no one that visited him.

Now the second issue was the part where Sniper usually went to the team's kitchen to snag some breakfast, however the whole heavy rain really didn't seem appealing to him. Of course, he had an umbrella that could easily solve this problem, but it was also windy, and overall, just shitty fucking weather conditions. He still had some of Engie's leftovers from the previous night's just piling up in his mini fridge, so he wasn't too concerned over hunger just yet.

But he was diverting from his schedule, and it was annoying him.

The majority of his schedule was undoable due to the weather, leaving him with virtually nothing to do. And maybe past him would've been thrilled to have some alone time but now it was like he craved it, craved social interaction like a feral animal. He'd gotten too used to the others that now he couldn't stand to be apart from them, it almost scared him to admit that he actually had friends and people that he cared for.

Everything was different now.

Sitting in solace was no longer enough for him, something so unobtainable in his youth was now in his grasps and it was slipping away from him. Not even as a child did he have the same connections that he had now, it was always business and nothing else. It's not like his parents taught him much on social interaction either, looking back, no one but Pyro could really understand his mutism.

Even Scout and Engie learned to not take his behaviour at face value, both adapting rather than forcing him to adjust. It was all different to him.

As he watched the heavy ran from the comfort of his van, a sudden thought struck him, that being his little family up in his crow family.

Shit.

He rushed to his bunk bed where he shoved his umbrella between the crevasse of where his bed met the wall, pulling it out from its hiding and making a beeline for his babies. They'd probably be scared out of their little minds about the weather, especially with all the wind activity, the mum must be scared for her children.

He angled his umbrella against the wind, picking up his pace as the storm increased in its intensity.

What shitty fucking weather.

Arriving at the ladder of his crow's nest, he jammed the umbrella underneath his arm and battled against the raging winds to climb upwards. His sole focus was on the koala family inside, he knew he had placed them away from the window when a stray bullet nearly took them down. Pyro had gone crazy and slaughtered the entire blue team upon hearing Sniper's yell, the others still had no idea what triggered the pyromaniac that fateful day. It really brought the koalas together and Sniper hoped that they'd be okay.

Pulling himself up, he quickly took off his soaked vest and hat as he rushed over to the koala family. There were placed on a nearby crate, surrounded by all the coffee mugs Sniper had drunk from and safely tucked away from any natural disasters. The floorboards and walls creaked in protest against the wind, making him doubt the security.

Fuck it.

He'd done it once; he'd do it again.

He cupped the koalas into his palms, wrapping them up in spare bandages he had lying around the nest, making sure to protect them from the outside weather.

The journey back was one of pain and great and turmoil, twice he nearly slipped against the wet gravel and swore multiple times as the wind kept attacking him. Let it be known that he'd only do this for the koalas and the koalas specifically, only because they deserve a heated room and should not suffer in his crow's nest during this kind of weather. He wasn't like his parents.

And as he placed them on his kitchen table, gently wiping them down from the rain and wrapping them up in a towel, he couldn't help but let his mind wander.

Little Shelia had fit into the family perfectly, she now had an older brother and a new Mum. The trio were perfect in Sniper's eyes, he loved staring at them and imagining all the little things that the family would get up to. Susie definitely had a handful now with two little troublemakers that kept her on her toes. Benjamin loved his little sister and would take her on tons of adventures and rope her into his mischief, which Shelia absolutely followed like the baby she was.

They were all so perfect.

So, so, perfect.

They didn't have to deal with a shitty father who ignored them or a mother who'd never feed them. There was no worrying about if they'd have a safe home to go to, they'd always have a roof over their heads. There was no begging for even a scrap of attention, Susie would care for her children like every mother was supposed to. Benny would never have to live in fear 24/7 cause he knows that his Mum would never ever raise a hand at him. Sheila won't have to worry about changing herself because she's already perfect in her family's eyes.

They would all live happily together.

And Sniper would never get to know that feeling.

Ever since his talks with Engie, he's come to realise a lot of things about himself and the things that while, were normal to him, weren't normal for an actual family. He always knew deep down that this family wasn't okay, that something was terribly wrong when his own family didn't want to show up to school with him.

In fairness they'd never even drop him off at school either, claiming it was too much work and that he's old enough now to just walk.

Sniper was 12.

The walk was 45 mins.

His feet would always hurt.

But that was his life, that was his everyday normal and no one ever really told him it was wrong. No one really cared about the scrappy kid who never talked and caused trouble in every class that he was in. No one's ever cared about him. And maybe that's why he never told people about the bruises that marked his skin or the words that swirled around in his head that told him to do things that maybe a child his age shouldn't be thinking of.

But no one ever said it was wrong.

Throughout his whole childhood no one ever questioned him, and he never said anything anyway. Sniper didn't talk to strangers and strangers knew better than to talk to the kid that would hide dead animals in other people's clothes.

It was his retaliation when people would get to close too him, he hated people prodding him physically or mentally.

He didn't want strangers getting involved into his life, he just wanted his parents to acknowledge him and maybe not be so fucking terrible to him all the time. He wanted the whole world to know what was going on, but not focus on him rather his parents. He wanted to yell and shout, but not really.

Thinking about it even now had Sniper confused, what he wanted was something not even he was 100% clear on. Even now with everything being said and done, he still craved his mother's and father's attention.

He hated them so fucking much.

But fuck would he give up anything just for them to tell him that they loved him. Even just for a second, just for a tiny second, he could pretend that they were a perfect family.

His head hurt.

His heart hurt.

His body hurt.

There was only one cure, drink it all away.

Idly, the sharpshooter covered his koala family fully with the towel, physically making sure that they wouldn't see what he was going to do. He knew he wouldn't forgive himself if they saw what kind of a person he became when drunk.

Bottle after bottle, Sniper was chugging them one after the next as fast as he could; leaving no room for regret to come clouding his mind. He didn't want to think about them anymore, he knew that they would never think about him. They never cared then, and they never cared now.

Sniper eventually lost count of how many bottles he went through; his minivan fridge was empty now though and that just wouldn't do. He didn't feel completely numb yet, he was just on the brink, and he just needed a few more bottles to get there. Snipes couldn't go to Engie for more, it was too late in the night, and fucking going out during a raging storm.

Besides, he didn't want to wake the kind man.

A stray thought crossed his mind of the Engineer replacing his father, but he quickly erased that thought. No ever wanted him and that's been something that's always stayed the same throughout his life.

No, he didn't the Engineer, he needed more good grog. He needed to feel completely void of all emotions. Snipes stumbled around his van as he attempted to locate his door, knocking down items as he went. Every step he took was accompanied by a wave of dizziness that caused him to basically fall out his van once he finally opened the door.

The rain did anything but sombre his thoughts, every drop that landed on his face further spiralled his thoughts.

He needed to leave; this place wasn't good. Nothing felt right anymore in his brain, only the desire to find more beer was fuelling him now. He pulled himself up off the ground and stumbled through the storm to find more alcohol. Sniper vaguely remembers the tracks to follow and just let his body lead him to wherever it believed the team base was.

Vision blurring, Sniper failed to notice the change in scenery, failed to notice that he was in fact not heading towards the base, but rather further away. What should have been a building, shifted into trees and shrubbery that tangled with his boots, causing him to trip once again.

Fuck this fucking weather.

The whole world was against him and all he wanted was some good grog.

"Ye daft bastard!"

A sudden pull from above, a hand grabbed his vest and tugged, pulling him off the ground. Sniper stumbled, the sudden movement making his head spin as he reached out to grasp the random stranger.

"Thought you were supposed ta be the smart ones aye?"

Everything hurts.

"Ye don't say."

Need more grog please and thank you.

"Come on then."

Sniper all but threw himself onto the poor man, if he had the good stuff then who was he to get in his way. He allowed himself to get dragged through the forest, deeper and deeper into the greenery without any sort of internal alarm bells going off. When he'd finally sober up, he'd punch himself in the face, but for now this nice stranger was going to help him on his quest to get drunk.

Like a good citizen.

Eventually they'd make their way to an old shack, something that reminded Sniper of his dad and made him feel ten times worse than before.

Fuck his dad.

Fuck his parents.

They were both horrible people and only he had to deal with them, everyone else was spared from their torment, but not him. No, he had to be the one that dealt with his dad's raging temper and his mum's hurtful words. No one else but him had to suffer and no one fucking cared.

"Drink up then lad, reckon you got plenty ta drink for."

Oh, beer?

He loved this mysterious man.

A bottle was pushed into his hands and like a child on Christmas, Sniper eagerly took to emptying the beverage. It was warm, sliding down his throat with ease and brought the kind of comfort he was searching for. It was mind numbing and pushed away everything in his head, quietening down the worst bits and boosting the good ones.

Who even cared about his parents? Not him that's for sure, they could both drive off a ditch and he'd still wouldn't care.

Who needs parents when all you really need in life is a good supply of beer.

Another bottle was pushed into his hands, then another, then another, and then another.

His stomach was a bottomless pit, and his mind demanded more sustenance to fill it with, distantly he could feel himself start to drift off, but he stubbornly fought against it. He needed more, needed that feeling to come back, needed that taste back on his tongue. He craved it like he craved his parent's affection, the fucking bastards.

He knew his birth was a mistake, but fuck, they didn't have to keep reminding him. He already had to deal with bullies at school and it just sucked that he also had to deal with bullies at home too. He could never escape them.

It was only when he got his hands on a slingshot that he could really start to dish out punishments. Weeks of being left in woods outside their house really left a kid with lots to do to entertain themselves. He taught himself to hunt, to cook, to fully utilise the things around him and when he finally stole a slingshot from one of his bullies.

Well, it was time to get fucking even.

No more functioning left eye for you, Josh.

You fucking shithead.

Really, it got worse for his bullies and better for him. The school could never prove it was him, cameras weren't a thing back when he was a child, and it only fuelled his bloodlust. His parents didn't care that he'd return late in the night, they just hated that he returned.

All afternoon, he'd practice his shots on any living thing that moved in front of him and used their carcases to stuff into people's backpacks. Or on the common occurrence that a teacher wanted to talk to him about his behaviour, he'd bury their stuff outside on the oval and leave them a bloodied note with animal fur attached to it; there was nothing useful on the note either, just scribbles.

He had a lot of problems as a child.

He was more professional now as an adult anyway, so it cancels out.

The teacher was basically asking for it anyhow when he wrote a letter home to Snipes family and made him get locked out of the house for the next few days. All it taught him was no one had your back except yourself, and that adults were just shit people overall. They would only get in the way and make things worse for him.

He needed another fucking beer.

As he reached for another bottle, his eyelids started to droop, suddenly his body felt much heavier than usual. Sniper couldn't feel his fingers anymore or any other part of his body for that matter, he was leaning forward and then he was out.

It was all dark.

He could feel his body get moved, limbs being pushed into something soft and the vague sounds of a Scottish voice in the background. It was all muddled in his mind, all he could focus on was the softness that surrounded him and the warmth it brought him; different then what the beer did.

Sniper was unaware of how long time passed or what was going on around him, all he knew was that it was shit day and he wasn't very happy.

"How much did you give him!?"

"He's a grown adult man-"

"Who needs help, not more beer-"

Sniper tossed and turned, the voices sounded like they were coming from outside the shack and yet his raging headache made it seem like it was right up and close to his ear. He groaned at all the sounds flooding his mind, shutting his eyes tight against the brightness in the room and looked around blindly for something to cover his eyes. He must've taken his shades off somewhere-

His fucking shades!

He pulled himself up, wincing at the sudden movement but persevering against the raging headache. He never left anywhere without his glasses and fuck him if he started now, he swore he was wearing them last night. Looking around he noticed he was in someone's bed and the shack looked a whole lot more different than what he remembered.

This looked less like the metal shack he was dragged to and more like a room. He was on the bottom bunk, noticing all the details around him such as the many posters and messy floor that suggested this was definitely someone else's room.

"Dude, I've never seen Engie this mad and I've seen him angry a lot."

Sniper snapped his head towards the new voice, swearing silently at the resulting ache in his neck from sleeping in an awkward position. Scout was peering into the hallway, opening his door slightly to hear the yelling match going on outside.

Ah, he was in Scout's bedroom.

Wonderful.

"What – what's happening out there?"

"Ah you know, Engie went out to go look for you after you didn't turn up this morning and found ya in Demo's drinking shack. He wasn't too happy and then carried you into my room, cause I offered and now here we are."

"Why's he mad?"

"Apparently, you're a chatty drunk?"

"Shit."

"Yup! And speaking of that…" Sniper watched as Scout closed the door, moving towards him slowly and planting himself down next to him.

"What the actual fuck was your childhood? Like every time I thought it couldn't get worse, you'd drop like an even worse story."

"It's all in the past, don't stress."

"Um, hate to break it to you, but when you learn that your friend used to literally live off of the wildlife cause his parent were fucked up people, then yeah, I'm gonna fucking worry!"

Sniper flinched at the high-pitched tone of the runner, rubbing at his ear as he tried to gather the thoughts needed to communicate.

"Look mate, it's just what it was, we were all growing up differently."

"That wasn't growing up, that was survival!"

And that made him pause.

Of course, it was survival, it had to be, or he'd die. He knew that.

He couldn't think too long about it, all he could focus on at the time was how he could live through the night. There was nothing for him to look forward to, so he just tried not to think about it; he wasn't used to people noticing it as well.

He wasn't used to the kindness because no one really cared. He had to believe that no one cared because the truth would just rip him apart.

Something about Scout acknowledging his shitty childhood really got to him, and it wasn't just Scout who had said something about it. Engie often had to convince him that the things he dealt with just wasn't right, which Sniper knew logically, but it was just different getting that confirmation from others. Even Pyro in their own way had validated his experiences, it's why he had a whole koala family in the first place, like a reminder that he had a new family to look out for now.

"Aye, Scout get out."

"It's my room!"

"Get."

Scout huffed, mumbling something under his breathe about disrespect for personal space, which was ironic coming from him, and left the room.

Leaving only Sniper and the notorious Demoman.

Sniper didn't know much about him, granted he didn't know much about most of the team but Demo in particular he just didn't interact with much. All he knew was that the man had a habit for drinking and explosions, often at the same time as well as during battle.

He stared at the Scotsman wearily, leaning back against the wall.

It seemed the other didn't know how to start the conversation either, ruffling around his pants for something before pulling out some shades. Sniper's shades.

He tossed them towards the sharpshooter and Sniper caught them, a bit sluggishly but even his pounding headache couldn't stop him from cherishing his glasses.

"Left them in the shack when Engie tried ta carry ya, knew you'd want 'em back."

Sniper nodded, slowly slipping them back onto his face and relishing in the room looking slightly darker; his headache was really killing him.

"Aye mate look, I dunno what's going on with ya or why you were stumbling around the woods like a fucking idiot but I know when someone needs a drink. Engie can baby ya all he wants but we all know drinking fixes everything."

As if to prove his point, the Scot pulled out a small flask from his many pockets and proceeded to take a sip.

"Ya lot more chatty with a bit a booze inside that small stomach of yours. Me, you and Heavy should have a contest! Never seen a man so quickly drain my supply, bit in awe really. Anyway, I'm not much for feelings and you sure ain't either despite what 'drunk you' may claim."

Demoman suddenly moved closer, grabbing Sniper's hand, and shaking it while taking another swig of his flask.

"Names Tavish Finnegan DeGroot, if ye wanna drink away your problems again, come stumbling back alright?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

At Sniper's reply, the demolitionist simply nodded at him with a grin and another sip of his flask before making his exit.

Sniper was left by himself, and he used that time to catch up on some much-needed sleep. It was odd that someone like the Demoman would give him his name, though judging on how much he must've spilled while drunk, maybe he earned the man's respect. The idea of drinking with him again, honestly didn't sound too bad.

He'd still talk with Engie about his issues but maybe, just maybe, he needed another outlet as well. Maybe not to get shit-faced like last night, but rather drinking more socially and actually letting the others get to know him.

He couldn't constantly rely on the other three to be at his beck and call, there'd definitely be more scenarios where he can't chat with them. So maybe he needed to expand his circle, though judging by recent events, the others might just come sought him out themselves.

For once, his skin didn't prickle at the idea of possibly getting to know the rest of the team.

He closed his eyes, snuggling back into the bed and letting himself drift away from the world.

Looks like he had a new friend now.

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.

Drink with Tavish.

Back into van.

Help Pyro with their colouring book.

Clean and check over his weapons.

Nap.

And repeat.