7. Sniper Smoking With Spy

It was safe to say that Sniper's beautiful masterpiece was received quite well by Heavy. His scream was a mixture or Russian and English, all blurred together and waking up the entire base. He could only imagine how panicked the weaponist was to see the blood-stained artwork on his door first thing in the morning.

His primary school would lock down the whole place, shutting front gates closed and making sure there was no serial killer just running wild somewhere in the school. He fondly recalls watching his teachers lose colour in their faces and screaming their heads after finding the latest animal corpse he stuffed in their drawers. He likes to think those moments were where he truly shined as a pupil, sitting up eagerly with an attentive attitude as he memorised the moment that his teachers broke. Those days were always worth it to turn up to school. He almost wished he snuck back down to the base to see Heavy's reaction. However, his body was long overdue for a sleep in and today felt like that day.

Sniper snuggled back deeper into his blankets, already imagining where to put his newly acquired emu and stocked up beer supply. He could feel the tiredness settling over his body, peacefully drifting off into sleep.

"Updates, Herr Sniper!"

Fuck off.

"I see you have acquired a new friend!"

What.

The sharpshooter threw off his blankets, snapping into focus immediately at the Medic's words. He wasn't aware of any new gifts from Pyro and certainly had heard anything around his van to suggest the firebug even visited. Though his tiredness was overwhelming, so there was a high possibility they somehow dropped off something after Heavy's outburst.

He pushed open his van's door, ignoring the Medic's chuckling as he beelined it to the rather large metal emu planted a few metres away from his vehicle. Immediately, he was in awe.

Her name was Avery.

She was born wild, hunting insects and living off the environment around her. No human alive could catch her, escaping every enclosure she's ever been in and somehow always returning back to her family, her mob. Avery was as cunning as she was beautiful, yet never settling down for some things transcend even basic animal instincts. And Avery was no basic animal.

Avery was a beaut.

Sniper found himself circling around her and inspecting every metal piece, watching entranced as the morning light bounced off her feathers. Pyro truly outdid themselves for this piece and to do it so quickly too, maybe he'll find something to pay them back.

"No artwork for Pyro, hmm?" The Medic mused jokingly; hands clasped behind his back. "Herr Heavy's 'gift' made them work faster."

Well, Heavy deserved what he got. He had no regrets about that.

"Indeed." Another light chuckle from the doctor. "Now, I believe it is updating time, ja?"

Sniper rolled his eyes from behind his shades, gesturing behind himself towards the van's open door. He didn't particularly feel like parting from Avery just yet, all to content to allow Medic to look for the folder rather than search for it himself. Instead, he crouched low enough to be eye to eye with his flightless friend, mentally projecting all his thoughts about protecting and taking care of her directly into Avery's mind. He could already see that she'd fit in great with the koalas, possibly even tucking them into some of her spaced out feathers. She could take them on trips and share tales of her part in the great Emu vs Australia War, the emu's mightiest victory to date.

So lost in his own thoughts, he completely tuned out the Medic's joyous gasp at finally locating the manilla folder. He was still tracing some of Avery's features when the doctor suddenly shouted.

"You're left-handed!?"

Sniper slowly turned to face Medic, hesitantly making eye contact from behind his shades as his whole body stilled. He wasn't fearful, he swears he wasn't. But something about his posture tipped the other and he watched as the German doctor visibly calmed down.

"You are left-handed, that is very good!" He stated still enthusiastically but his volume was greatly decreased. "Everything here is good!"

And Sniper's shoulders dropped at Medic's words, his definitely not fear settling down back into his body. He wasn't lying when he said he hated what doctors would say about him, regardless of if it was technically his own words being repeated. They just always got it wrong, and he never got the chance to ever explain to them. Even now, watching his medical friend look at the file was making him feel restless. It felt too real.

His hands shook and Sniper forced himself to turn back to Avery, narrowing every bit of focus he had onto the bird.

"Ah, apologises Herr Sniper. I have forgot myself."

Medic tucked the folder into his coat, moving swiftly to the other side of the emu and placing himself directly opposite of the sharpshooter.

"That bird, emu, da? She's crafted well."

She really was and considering her height it's amazingly well detailed, it certainly must've taken a lot of dedicated hours or even days to have been able to finish it.

"Fear is a strong motivator."

It is.

It really, really, is.

But Avery doesn't fear anything. She has no shadows to watch out for, no, the shadows watch out for her instead. It hides from her, fearing her wrath and unnatural bloodlust that threatens to ruin the kingdom it's built.

"Shadows have kingdoms?"

Of course, they do, where else does the fear run to?

it's where they linger, where they wait until the sun rests, and they can run once more out into the wild. They thrive under the night, and they thrive under beds, in closets and daunting trees that shelter those who cannot run.

But Avery can run, and she runs very fast. It's very impressive.

He might move her to his sniping nest, she could guard the koalas.

"Would you like help, mein friend?"

"The updates." Sniper mumbled lowly, the first words he consciously spoke out as he lifted his head to stare up at the Medic.

Had he lifted it earlier, he would've seen the bright grin that stretched across the doctor's face before he quickly schooled it.

"We can do that that later, for now we move Avery!"

Sniper hummed in agreement, stretching to his full height as his back cracked loudly. He carefully placed his hands underneath Avery's body, waiting for Medic to do the same before gradually making the journey to his nest. It was quiet between the two of them with the doctor letting out an occasional noise at some of the wildlife that skittered past them.

Sniper felt his eyes temporarily draw to the edge of the forest, feeling something off as a cold sensation washed over him.

He knew this feeling well.

It was the same feeling he got whenever he walked home by himself or lingered too long on the streets at night.

He was being watched.

The next few moments were a blur, with Sniper's instincts on overdrive and his mind yelling at him to move. It all happened too fast.

"Merde!"

An all too familiar voice swore loudly, followed by the sound of a body falling to the ground.

Fucking Spy, it was always him.

Not even his stupid cloak ability was enough for prevent him from getting decked by the sharpshooter. The French man glared up at him as his gloved hand was quick to cover his now bloodied nose. His body was splayed out on the dirt path, messing up his usually pristine which Sniper took great satisfaction in. He never liked Spy's obsession with cleanliness, always using it as a clutch to pretend he was better than what he was. It was infuriating.

A tense silence settled upon them, neither willing to move or break their concentrated eye-contact; whoever looked away first was weaker that was how it was. Even during matches, Sniper recalls seeing the annoying bugger looking up at him as he killed an enemy teammate, a silent gloat that he killed someone before him.

He was a showboat, simple as that and Sniper hated showboats with a passion; they were natural enemies from day one.

Sniper could feel his irritation began to grow, he just could never have two good days in a row, no, the world had to have it out for him. In fact, he'd much rather deal with Soldier's bullshit ramblings, because at least he could escape it.

One could never escape the Spy, not unless he allowed you to and unfortunately for Sniper, he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to leave like he wanted.

His suddenly gaze tore away from the Spy's as the sound of heavy metal being dropped rang out through the area. Dread filled his gut, already knowing what he'd see and feeling a piece of him die as he slowly turned around. Unconsciously letting out a wounded noise at the sight of Avery's fallen body.

"I'm so sorry Herr Sniper! It was too heavy to carry!"

"Yes, yes, worry about the bird."

The French man grumbled in annoyance, completely being ignored and overlooked by both the other mercenaries. Sniper could feel his hands start to shake once more, rapidly running his fingers over the newly acquired dents on the statue. He's only had Avery for a few minutes, and he's already broken his promise. Her beautifully crafted feathers were dented in, ruining the shine she once had and making her appear unruly. He could see it now, the rumours, the whispers, the haunting shadows that will chase her now that she's left injured. She'll struggle against the night, and it'll all be his fault.

"So, he really does talk?"

"Herr Spy, I think-"

Sniper growled cutting off whatever Medic was going to say as he stood to his full height, whirling around to face Spy head on. His hands were itching to wrap themselves around the bastard's throat; to make him suffer like he made Avery suffer. She'll take days possibly even months to heal from her injuries and then more so psychologically. Not to mention the fallout she'll have from friends and family alike, turning them all away to wallow in her own grief thus losing herself to the one thing she was supposed to be strong against.

The darkness.

It was closing in.

The darkness was following her.

The darkness was following him.

"Herr Sniper!"

"What is wrong with him now?"

The darkness.

Darkness, darkness, darkness.

His feet were already moving before his mind could catch up, distantly a part of him was yelling internally that something was wrong. He was acting wrong; he should be comforting Avery right now or back with his teammates and that douchebag. But everything felt wrong, everything felt bad and more so, he felt like he was forgetting something. It was back again, that gap in his mind that was suddenly screaming at him to move, yet another was begging him to stay. Sniper could hear Medic's yelling becoming distant, but no footsteps trailed after him. He had to decide if that made him feel better or worse about the situation.

He's never abandoned one of his animals before and certainly never turned tail when the Spy was involved either. He wanted nothing more than to give the man matching dents or bullet holes in his body, getting revenge for Avery instead of fleeing. But Sniper's vision was blurring and soon all he could see was the darkness, the ever-longing darkness. It was sickeningly familiar with the way it called for his mind and body. He could hear its whispers; its taunting and its annoying fake warmth that pretended to care.

The darkness liked to store things inside it, only ever letting out the worst parts for Sniper himself to experience. It would follow him through even the brightest of days, acting as only a reminder that it would only get worse for him. He's never not been aware of it but today it slipped his mind.

Because he forgot.

He forgot yesterday and he never bothered to figure it out.

It wasn't the 'okayness' of being isolated, it wasn't his fear of medics.

It was the death of his parents.

They had died a year ago, yesterday was the 'anniversary' for a lack of better words and they were the darkness that lingered in his mind on an ever-constant basis.

Avery was supposed to protect him from them, he remembered now. His breathes began speeding up, clutching at his chest desperately while his body kept moving through the trees. It was becoming overwhelming; it was all crumbling around him.

The trees shifted to shadows, prowling after him with their roots shifting to human nails that liked to poke at him.

"Stand straighter!"

"You're embarrassing me!"

His mum's shrill voice rattled around in his brain, painfully thudding against is skull as the shadows reached for his skin. He could feel them scratching at his body, digging their manicured nails into every flaw, every insecurity, every little thing that he hated about himself.

"Get back here, boy!"

And Sniper ran.

He ran and ran and ran.

His shades fell of his face, lost to the darkness below but the Aussie was not turning around.

Because he knew what would happen if his dad caught him.

And he feared he wouldn't survive.

"You need to learn some manners!"

"I'll fucking beat you black and blue for bothering your mother!"

The darkness roared at him; a horrifying mixture of his parent's voices all mixed into one. Every hair rose on the sharpshooter's body, a natural response to the very real threat chasing him through the woods. He couldn't believe he forgot; his parents were always frighteningly good at finding him whenever he tried to escape. It didn't matter that they didn't want him or abandoned him at every turn; he was not allowed to run from them.

His dad used to lock all the doors around the house, making sure that there was no escape from whatever punishment was waiting for him. Sometimes he'd even lock Sniper's bedroom door, before eventually locking the windows too once he discovered the hole in the flyscreen. He had earned a lot of marks that day, branded by the very belt his dad wore the next day to work. No one ever said a thing.

His mother was worse in some cases, always digging her new nails into his arm or whatever body part she could reach. He was never allowed to leave her side during social outings, instead having to hide every and all movement that could registered as a flinch. He'd never hear the end of it from her, listening to her screeches while his arms bruised and his ears red from being twisted afterwards. All he had to do was behave but somehow every time he always failed, there was just no pleasing her.

And like clockwork he'd rotate between his dad and mum, struggling to keep up with them as they stepped on his throat. He could never escape, never be free from their grip because they would always find him.

A pained whimper squeezed its way out of the sharpshooter's body as he tripped over a large root, crumbling to the ground almost instantly. Everything hurt, but he couldn't stop, he could never stop for the shadows would eat him alive. He lifted his aching head from the ground, forcing his arms to push himself back up as he heard the shadows scream from behind him. They were getting closer with every passing second and Sniper couldn't afford to waste time on injuries.

He heaved himself up and ran on wobbly legs to another clearing, vaguely recognising it as the edge of the base. It opened up to the wilderness of the very desert they were planted in with only sand surrounding them for miles. Sniper used to visit the area on his days off, hunting whatever he couldn't find in the fake fauna near his van. But now he needed it to reassure himself, to run far enough that the darkness couldn't send its shadows after him.

It was all he ever wanted.

It was why he took the job that he did, becoming the hunter instead of the hunted and using the same skills he did to survive his parents, he used to survive everything else. The rest of his life could finally be free from the torments of his town, his bullies and most importantly, free from his parents. He desperately sought out that freedom, taking more and more jobs that pulled him away from his home and into new territory.

But sometimes those shadows still lingered, taking over his body and forcing him to flee once more. It was only when he could finally breathe in the middle of nowhere, did he get the news from Ms. Pauline.

His parents had passed away.

She had sounded so sincere as well, attempting to soothe something that didn't need soothing. Instead, Sniper felt a nothingness in his heart, he was neither happy nor unhappy that his tormentors were finally gone. Because their shadows would wait for him, he would never truly be free from them no matter how far he ran.

And maybe that's why he finally collapsed on the base's edge, allowing his body to succumb to the mourning that he had yet to process. His fingers grabbed at grains of sand, combing through it like he could find the answer he was looking for. It was calming, grounding him in the reality that his folks were no longer sharing the same world with him. Yet he mourned them both despite it all because he'd be a fool to admit that he hoped his parents still loved him deep down. There was almost a pathetic-ness there. It was embarrassing.

He just wanted to be loved.

Why was that so hard?

It was always at the tip of his tongue to ask his parents why they never cared for him, why they never truly loved him as not just their son but their only child. He wasn't even that difficult, he done everything they asked for and then some. He got them their cigarettes, their drinks, even their fucking groceries as he got older. He paid for their home, their mortgage, he bought his dad a new truck just months before he passed.

"You're fucking psychotic that's what!"

"Can't believe my son's a killer, how disgraceful!"

Sniper chuckled weakly, remembering how much his folks hated his job yet never mentioning how much it paid for their stuff. He would sit on the payphone for hours, listening to them rant and scream at him from across the ocean because every time he'd wait for them to say that they loved him. It never happened, not even when he was young, but it didn't stop him from believing that maybe next time would be different. Now, there was no next time, no more expectant phone calls and no more yearly Christmas cards that he'd send them.

It had been a year and Sniper still found himself clinging onto them and maybe that's why he's been so all over the place. His patience had been running thin lately, his internal thoughts were becoming external, and he couldn't stop fearing his parents. They had been clouding his mind as of late and now he knew why.

He had forgotten because he was free and now the darkness had to punish him. The remnants of his own hallucinations echoed throughout his mind, taunting him with a repeat of being chased by his deceased parents. He could still almost see them from the corner of his eyes, waiting to pounce on him once more and drag him to the depths of his own fears. The knowledge that he'll never truly be free of his parents haunt him more than he'd like to admit.

The tears were already falling from his eyes as he weakly brought his knees to his chest, resting his head on them with a sigh. His heart was still pounding rapidly, struggling to come down from the adrenaline rush mixed with the fear instilled into him. It's certainly been a while since his last come down. He closed his eyes, allowing the gentle sounds of nature to wash over himself as he bathed in the sunlight.

However, even when vulnerable, Sniper was never not aware of a certain presence slowly coming from behind. Like many of his skills, the sharpshooter had memorised the sound and pattern of which his teammates walked around base. He had them listed mentally in his mind and judging by how naturally even paced the steps were, he knew exactly who it was.

"The Medic is worried for you."

Fucking Spy, every goddamn time.

He couldn't help but smile, turning his head just enough so that Spy couldn't see it tucked between his knees. The man had uncanny timing, and he shouldn't have been surprised that the nosy bastard went to find him after his dramatics. He half expected Spy to just shoot him point blank as soon as he was found; he certainly wouldn't complain about it. Maybe being brought back to life by Engie's respawn will reset his emotional turmoil. He should suggest that as an update to the engineer, it would certainly make Sniper's life so much easier. Maybe too easy.

"Do you always talk to yourself in low volumes?" Spy asked, a strange questioning tone in his voice.

Sniper clicked his teeth shut, cursing his inability to shut the fuck up at the worst times. He could shoot a man in a moving car from a high fucking building but could never realise when his mouth opened on its own.

A natural silence settles upon them with Spy moving to stand next to him, already holding a lit cigarette in his hand. The two looked out over the desert with Sniper lifting his head to rest on the top of his knees. Neither made a move to speak or even to acknowledge the events that transpired to get them here. It was one of the few benefits of having someone equally uninterested in whatever was happening in one's life. But that wasn't really true, Spy knew things in the sense that Sniper also knew things.

It was different than the Medic who needed files and the other teammates who liked to share stories between them. No, Spy was always different and so was Sniper in a way; they worked well until they didn't and that was the easiest way to explain their relationship.

The sharpshooter watched his teammate from the corner of his eye, unsurprised to see Spy already staring at him with a visibly raised brow from behind his mask.

Because Spy knew.

Sniper knew that he knew.

Spy knew that he knew that he knew.

It was simple.

"Well, Mundy-"

"Fuck right off." He snapped quickly.

"Touchy today?"

"I'll cover your room in frog guts."

"Comme c'est classe, I'm sure your parents would be proud."

A pause. It was a test.

Because neither could admit that they cared for one another, this shaky and reluctant bond that somehow formed during their very little time together.

Because Spy knew.

Sniper knew that he knew.

Spy knew that he knew that he knew.

"Well, they've fucked off so who knows."

They left me and I'm still not ready.

"For the best, I suppose."

You don't need them.

"Maybe."

Sniper picked at his nails, hearing the words hidden in a secret language that only they could understand. It was oddly comforting, though he supposes that was the role Spy was here to play, something he'd never acknowledge out loud and Sniper wouldn't dare mention it either. He simply allowed himself to enjoy the space they shared, no longer focusing on the shadows that lingered in the folds of his mind.

There was a sigh then something soft landed in his lap, it was a pack of cigarettes most likely the ones Spy was currently smoking. The sharpshooter opened the packet, automatically lifting his cig as Spy leant down to light it.

"Never was too much of a smoker." He spoke softly, watching the smoke dance across the sky as he exhaled. "Always hated how it smelt, drinking's much better."

"Yes, I've seen the disgrace you call a van."

"Knew you've been sneaking around my stuff, you fucker."

"I wish I never looked."

That earned a surprised laugh from Snipes, "Good, shouldn't have been there in the first place." He took secret pride in the fact that Spy was grossed out, anything to inconvenience him was a win in his books. His personal favourite method was changing the locks on Spy's locker, always switching it out during his respawns so as to leave him weapon less. It was guaranteed entertainment every time and never lost its charm. However, it did mean he'd have to be paranoid for the rest of his life due to Spy's revenge involving blatantly stealing his stuff.

Engie had referred to them as 'territorial house cats', constantly testing each other and seeing how much they could get away with before the other hunted them down.

It made him realise something.

"Were you ever scared of me?"

Sniper knew he was going off script that this wasn't part of the game they played, but he needed to know. He hadn't realised truly how much he and Spy interacted in comparison to his other teammates. Everyone was always scared of him, standing at unreachable distances and merely watching from the sidelines. This was new territory for him, all of it was new and a few years ago Sniper never would've imagined himself willingly around anyone.

"Were you ever scary?"

And that made the shooter pause, tilting his head almost unconsciously before taking another drag of his cigarette. "Thought I was."

"You are but a hermit, un solitaire."

"Yeah well, fuck you too."

He should've expected as much, Spy was never willing to give information that wasn't worth what he was receiving. Though in fairness, he did feel like not instantly killing him for Avery was a massive favour on his part.

And oh, the thought of his flightless friend sent a pang through his heart. He really did need to get her fixed up and apologise to Pyro for Spy's bullshit. He couldn't believe the French fuck thought it was a good idea to be sneaking so close to him, he pulled that same shit years ago and never stopped. It was frustrating but it was Spy and usually everything about him was. Sniper could count on his fingers alone the number of times of his teammate wasn't vague in answers. He truly couldn't understand how anyone else on base put up with Spy for longer than five minutes at a time.

They really were opposites in where he spoke truthfully in the few instances, he talked whereas Spy never shut ups and only talks in riddles. It couldn't be understated what little they had in common from their favourite ways to kill to what TV show plays in the team's base. They butted heads at every turn with Spy spreading rumours and Sniper only fuelling it with his own acts of revenge.

It was annoying to deal with the fucker even when not interacting, but it served as a constant in Sniper's new life. He would be on the verge of crumbling, utterly weak and bleeding raw from the mess that was his parents. Then like a demon crawling to the surface, Spy would make an appearance and suddenly Sniper forgot whatever was happening, too intent on equally ruining the French man's day.

"You didn't visit their graves yesterday."

A statement not a question and Snipes knew to take it as such.

"Forgot." He answered simply because that was the truth, and he was almost reluctant to admit it. "Thought they were still alive."

Spy hummed at his response, fiddling with something hidden from Sniper's eyesight before putting out his cigarette.

"Let's go then, I don't want to be out here more than I need to be."

"Yeah sure."

He put out his own cig, pushing it into the sand as he slowly got up from his hunched over position. Snipes found himself trailing after Spy, beginning to move slower and slower after realising where he was being led.

Because Spy knew.

Sniper knew that he knew.

Spy knew that he knew that he knew.

His feet were frozen to the spot, body still as his eyes took in the all too familiar area in front of him. He watched as Spy manoeuvred through the small clearing with ease like he too was here when Sniper first visited. And he might as very well had been there, also watching in silence as his teammate cleared out the area. It was only a small patch of grass, somewhere that had equal distance between the edge of base and his van. He had wanted the small site to be easy access for himself yet also cleverly hidden from his prying teammates. Of course, Spy was the exception, and he shouldn't have been surprised that the other knew about it.

That was their entire 'relationship.' This constant back and forth of figuring out just how far their knowledge of each other went. It didn't matter if it was hidden, in plain sight or common knowledge; it could all be leverage. Spy's favourite.

He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, forcing back the shadows that threatened to consume his spiralling mind. There were lines, boundaries put in place that the two mutually agreed on that would be used against the other. But right now, in this very moment, Snipes very much felt like toeing on that line. An unjustified sort of rage consumed him.

"Don't pity me, just cause you see your own mistakes."

A sharp intake.

"I've not beaten him, so I've made no mistake."

Sniper flinched harshly, gritting his teeth as he opened his eyes to glare right back at the Spy. The other was watching him with the same intensity, clear annoyance written on his covered face.

Because Spy knew.

Sniper knew that he knew.

Spy knew that he knew that he knew.

And there was nothing more annoying than someone knowing about you without having to say a word.

"What do you want mate?" He forced out, annoyed. "I'm in no mood for your fucking games today."

"When are you ever?"

The French man quipped back with ease, looking Sniper up and down dramatically before turning his back to him. Snipes sucked in a groan, feeling his anger simmer beneath his skin but he forced it down if only for a moment. He made his way to Spy with his hands tucked into his pockets and a slouched posture.

As they stood side by side, Sniper couldn't help but bite down on his tongue on instinct.

Martha Mundy – A Cold Woman.

Jack Mundy – An Even Colder Man.

Their graves were as bleak as Sniper remembered them, simply asking Ms. Pauline to purchase some gravestones with his money; she got it to him for free as a result of the circumstances. He carved the names and messages out himself once he got them, for even he didn't know what to put on them. His childhood was anything but pleasant and his parents made sure of it. There was nothing truly he could write that would do justice to what they had or hadn't done to him. His youth was stolen, simple as that. He missed every milestone, every birthday, every little occasion that should've mattered and instead was climbing up rooftops to avoid his dad.

His parents were dead, and he was left alone. Again.

He suddenly jolted out of his thoughts as the feeling of something smooth was pushed into his hand. Snipes looked at Spy, but the man wasn't meeting his eyes instead pushing the object more harshly into his palm. He wrapped his fingers around the item, looking down as a small smile graced his face at the sight of his trusty shades.

Without wasting a second, he slipped them onto his face, resolutely ignoring the tears that had already started escaping from his eyes.

He was mourning, he was tired, and he was almost glad that Spy would be the only one to see him like this.

Because Spy knew.

Sniper knew that he knew.

Spy knew that he knew that he knew.

The two stood side by side in companiable silence with Spy already lighting another cigarette, but this time handing it to Sniper first.

Time seemed to almost speed up through their interactions with Snipes noticing the sun setting in the distance. He still made no move to leave and neither did Spy, there was no real reason to stay but Sniper couldn't do it. He couldn't convince himself to move just yet and instead crouched low to the gravesites. His fingers traced over his carved words, mumbling them to himself as if to cement that, yes, his parents were gone and had been gone for over a year. The flowers he had left from the previous visit had already wilted to nothing; he could only faintly see the colours on the petals. He really hadn't been keeping up with his visits, now spending most of his time with his teammates instead. Things had so drastically changed in such little time that it was unsurprising he would've forgotten something eventually. It just so happened to be his parent's death days.

Slowly, he got back up, dropping his cigarette to the ground as he stomped the embers into their graves.

It was time to go.

He no longer felt the need to stay any longer, it didn't feel necessary anymore. In fact, he half expected that this would be his last visit in a long while. His parents could give him nothing more, only ever taunting him in his own mind. They were no longer here, and Sniper was getting sick of still feeling their effects. He didn't want their shadows or their darkness, he didn't want anything to do with them anymore.

"You should that bird here." Spy spoke up rather nonchalantly, but Sniper knew better.

Because Spy knew.

Sniper knew that he knew.

Spy knew that he knew that he knew.

Avery would make a wonderful addition to the area; she'd be able to get revenge on the people that created the darkness while also chasing off any shadows that dared to escape the graves. She was perfect for the job, and she'd do it with her dents shining proudly in the sun, scaring off all that hid in the dark. He was finally free.

"You still owe me a new packet."

I'm here, if you need me.

"Whatever, mate."

I know.

Wake up.

Updates with Medic.

Blast Scout's music for his workout.

Relax with the kid.

Clean van.

Smoke with Spy.

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.

Stargaze with Heavy.

Nap.

And repeat.