Chapter 4: Originals And A Gumdrop

Notes: Criticism is allowed! This chapter is way longer than I initially intended it to be. FYI; I won't make anything this long again. Probably.


After they won the battle, the RED team went their separate ways.

Scout and Heavy were hanging out, Medic was in his lab, Engineer was in his workshop, Soldier and Demoman were in their rooms, Spy and Sniper were somewhere Pyro couldn't guess, and Pyro kept themselves company by lighting pieces of paper on fire.

The RED team weren't a particularly close team, but they were "close" in the sense that they trusted one another with their lives. They were obviously professionals, not close enough to go AWOL for each other, but close enough to go out for drinks and share a few secrets.

Pyro knew Sniper and Scout were close, as were Heavy and Medic. RED Demoman and BLU Soldier were also close before the Administrator intervened and separated them. It was sad to see RED Demoman so depressed and angry, but there was nothing they could do to help him.

Pyro, on the other hand, wasn't close to any of them, except for Engineer and, hopefully, Ms. Pauling.

They wouldn't have it any other way, really.

They enjoyed being alone, having more fun watching the dancing flicker of a lighter rather than the bustling movement of their teammates. Their teammates were fun when in battle, sometimes fun when out of battle, but they'd prefer their own company or that of Engineers.

However, forcing nine people to live together had its drawbacks. For one, Pyro knew the others' habits, as did the team know theirs. And who wouldn't? If nine people were forced to live together, they would undoubtedly form some sort of connection. As vague as that connection was for some of them.

However, they were unsure how Spy and Sniper felt about the team. They cared, but they remained professional about it. It sort of made Pyro jealous that they could keep work and personal relationships apart, but they didn't really care after four years of living with them.

BLU team, though, was interesting.

Pyro enjoyed staring at them from the base, and sometimes sneaking over to their base and looking through their windows to see how they lived. They knew they were clones, but they were interesting clones.

They were much closer than the RED team, eating together daily and doing things for each other that more than friends would do. They were kind of like lovers! No, wait, that's not the right word. They were close friends. Close-close, very close friends.

They kind of acted like Heavy and Medic.

No, wait, them and Engineer.

They remembered Medic saying that they and Engineer were kind of like… what was the word? Family? Like Engineer was their dad. So the BLU team was like family!

Nonetheless, the BLU team got along really well!

BLU Spy and BLU Scout also got along well! It was so strange seeing Spy smile towards Scout. Genuinely at that! He would never do that!

They could see why Demo was so close to BLU Soldier before their fight.

The BLU team was so interesting that Pyro wanted a friendship with them too! Alas, Pyro terrified them. And Pyro liked seeing them so scared of them. It's funny. So they weren't too disheartened that they couldn't have a friendship with them.

They kind of wished the RED team had as close of a relationship as they did. But it was against the rules and Pyro knew that they'd be fired if they went against the rules.

Which is why it was so weird seeing them be so close despite that rule.

Then again, they were clones, so maybe they didn't know any better about professional and personal relationships?

Maybe someday they'll find their own Engineer to teach them about stuff like this.

"Business and friendship don't mix well." As Engineer would say.

Pyro swished their legs off the ledge of the building, flicking the lighter down and rolling it between each of their fingers in one fluid motion, weaving it between their index and middle, to their middle and ring, resting it in between their pinkie and ring, before they reversed the process and the lighter came back to their index and thumb. They flicked their wrist in an upward motion, opening the lid to the zippo lighter as a small flame bounced to life.

They repeated this process continuously, the wind as cool as it can be in the desert, as the sun set.

The roof was a nice, quiet place to relax when they didn't want to be bothered. Sometimes they ran into the others, more often than not, Sniper. Though they were alone most of the time.

It got boring with nothing else to do besides reading comics, going out to eat, killing the local wildlife, and setting things on fire. Battles were fun, but they only happened three times a week. They spent the rest of the week biding their time or devising a plan to infiltrate the BLU's base.

Sometimes they'd listen in on their teammates' conversations with their parents, though that got boring after the nth time of listening to Scout speak highly of himself or Sniper arguing with his dad.

Engineer was entertaining enough. He always had something to keep them entertained, like a colouring book or a new comic he found at a pawnshop. There were times he also taught them how to cook and how to set ice on fire. They didn't even know that was possible!

But sometimes, even with the bustling footworks of their teammates, and their increasing boredom, they wanted to be left alone.

Okay.

They were bored now.

They wondered what BLU was doing right now.

Just as they were going to step away from the ledge, the rooftop door access clicked open, and they looked back to see Engineer walk towards them.

Unlike the BLU team that looked like babies with their Pyro vision, Pyro's teammates always swapped between older, giddier versions of themselves or an animalistic depiction—Scout as a bunny, Heavy a bear, Soldier, a raccoon, and so on and so forth. Though they often looked like babies too, depending on how much Pyro's brain wanted to block out reality.

"Pyro, was just lookin' for you!" Engineer greeted, walking up next to Pyro and peering over the edge. "Nice view, ain't it?"

Pyro nodded as their feet kicked out in front of them.

"What're you havin' for dinner? You can come eat with me in the workshop if ya want." He offered.

They enthusiastically took the offer with a rapid nod of their head. They never got many offers to eat with the others, mostly because they set the food on fire, or they set the table on fire, or they somehow set water on fire. Somehow, someway, something was on fire when they were eating with someone.

Engineer, miraculously, always tempered those urges. He was really patient with them. Which is why Pyro liked him over everyone else on the team. Plus, he let them set stuff on fire!

The older man chuckled and leaned against the fence, staring at the BLUs base. "Dinner will be done soon, then. In the meantime, I wanted to tell you that it's best you stay out of Spy's way. He's been in a bad mood since after the battle."

Pyro tilted their head in inquiry. Spy's in a bad mood? Spy was always in a bad mood, but when Engineer notes it, it means that Spy's in a bad kind of mood. The bad kind that meant that the team should stay out of his way for the next hour or month or two until he was in a good mood again.

"He's ahh…" He tried finding the words. "Paranoid right now. Pretty pissed about the feeling, too."

Oh, so he's in a paranoid kind of bad mood. That was much more manageable than a bad kind of mood.

Engie placed his hand on his helmet, a nervous tick Pyro's come to realise, as he peered down to the front yard of the base. "I don't blame him. Today's been odd…"

"Hmph?" Asked Pyro.

"It's nothin' you should worry about." He answered with a soft shake of his head, before nodding to Scout and Heavy roughhousing. "While I'm setting up dinner, could you keep an eye on those two? Don't want them punching holes through the building again."

Pyro nodded, rolling backwards off the ledge towards Engie's direction and perfectly landing on their feet, exaggeratedly saluting to Engineer before trotting off to where Heavy and Scout were. They would've preferred to be alone and entertain themselves, but maybe they'll hang out with the two since it's been a while?

"Oh, and Pyro?"

They turned around.

"I know you will be, but be careful."

They nodded and off they went to play referee with Scout and Heavy.


Scout and Heavy didn't appreciate their presence, but they stayed anyway.

One, it was entertaining to watch them squirm in their presence, and two, they enjoyed watching Bear Heavy scruff up Bunny Scout. Scout had a fluffy tail, too. They wanted to pet the tail, but the last time they tried, Scout became flustered and tried to attack them with his bat.

So they sat nearby, legs crossed and swaying side to side, eyes fixed on Heavy and Scout fighting.

"Leetle man should not keep his legs close, keep them spread." Heavy instructed.

Despite the groan and roll of his eyes, Scout spread his legs wider, his feet dragging across the gravel. "Yeah, yeah, I already got it, bucko."

Heavy raised his fists, and Scout imitated him. "Your hits are tiny. Hit harder."

"I'm tryin' that, fatso. You're too fat to get hits in." Snarked the Boston.

"Or leetle man is weak." He smirked as Scout rolled his eyes again.

"Whateva, you gonna try to punch me or not?"

Scout sidestepped Heavy's fist, leaning back with a slight hop in his step as Heavy went for another hit. Each hit aimed for Scout's face, but he remained unimpressed as he continuously moved to dodge them.

Hit. Dodge. Hit. Dodge.

Pyro clapped and cheered every time Scout dodged a hit, watching Scout smirk and huff in pride, puffing his chest out with each praise as he continued to avoid the Russian man.

Hit. Dodge. Hit. Dodge.

Scout swooped down when Heavy went for an uppercut.

Hit. Dodge. Hit. Dodge.

Scout attempted a sweep kick, but when he wasn't able to knock Heavy down, he shoulder-rolled when Heavy attempted a grapple and headstand, rebounding up to a stand before tripping back in surprise when Heavy grabbed for him.

"Holy shit!" Scout exclaimed. "Ya tryin' to kill me?"

"We are battling."

Hit. Dodge. Hit.

Heavy then landed a lucky hit on Scout's shoulder, sending him flying back a few feet and causing him to yell in alarm.

He landed with a loud thump, rolled to a crouch, and clutched his shoulder in agony. Scout scrunched his nose in annoyance as he looked back at the approaching man, back flipping and hopping back to his feet.

"That hurt!" He spat angrily, pulling his hand back to reveal his shoulder limp from its socket. "Ya dislocated my shoulder, fatass!"

Pyro pressed a hand to their mouth, their eyes bouncing between Heavy and Scout.

"Pay more attention."

Scout glared at him before crouching down again, his arm useless beside him. Heavy followed the movement and placed his hands in front of him in a grappling motion, having noticed the grappling move worked better than the punching.

They stared at each other for a moment, unmoving.

One second.

Another.

Five go by.

Then twenty.

Scout made the first move, running directly towards Heavy before collapsing and sliding between his legs, but Heavy intervened and pulled him up by his limp arm. The Boston yawped in agony, gritting his teeth and kicking his feet to keep with the motion to prevent any more pain.

He dangled in front of Heavy, staring at him with a scrunched nose and furrowed brows. A bit of blood veiled like honey trickled from a cut, and he spat at Heavy, who lacked any reaction to it.

Just as Heavy was ready to throw Scout to the ground, he kicked off his chest, which winded the larger man, before back flipping and kicking his chin simultaneously. The Russian man grunted in pain and staggered back, clutching his mouth.

Pyro grinned wildly, straightening and leaning towards them, clearly interested.

While they were excited about the fight and who would win, Pyro was more focused on what Heavy had in his hand.

Heavy lowered his hand from his face and stared at the object in his grasp, his eyes widening.

Scout's arm had completely twisted off, and the younger man was grinning from ear to ear in triumph.

"Weren't expecting that, huh, big guy?"

He returned Scout's gaze, then tossed the arm to the side, grunting. He stomped his way towards Scout, who was crouching once more to prepare himself. The younger man was tense and clearly in pain, but his eyes blazed with tenacity. Pyro wondered why he was so determined to win, but it made for an entertaining fight, so they kept quiet.

There was a second, and Heavy charged in without hesitation.

Hit. Dodge. Hit. Dodge.

The same song and dance from moments before.

Scout knocked Heavy's left arm back from his elbow with a push in, snapping it forward and weakening Heavy's throw attempt. He then snaked around and slammed his own elbow into the other man's abdomen, connecting it violently.

The Russian slightly gagged and grabbed Scout's wrist just as he pulled back.

Scout gasped, struggling to pull his hand back.

When he couldn't, they both stared at each other.

A minute passes.

Before they burst into wild laughter.

Pyro tilted his head at their reactions, watching how Heavy roughly patted Scout's shoulder as he howled.

"You have gotten better at fighting!" Heavy praised him.

"Not bad yourself, big guy!"

They were both still chuckling with amusement as they sat beside Pyro, Pyro looking between them muddled.

"Where did you come up with idea to rip arm off?" asked Heavy.

"Saw Sniper do that and got inspired!"

The older man guffawed and slapped his knee, impressed and amazed. Scout leaned over when he noticed Pyro's obvious confusion.

"Me and Heavy here were just practising. But did you freakin' see how cool I looked? I looked rad. I just went pow, and knocked the lights right outta the big guy here! And did you see how freakin' fast I dodged his hits? Lasted 5 minutes instead of 3 this time!"

Heavy hummed in acknowledgement. "Leetle Scout did good."

"See? I did freakin' amazing!"

Pyro swiftly nodded and threw an air punch in imitation of Scout's punch, grunting through their mask in childlike kiddishness. They delivered another air punch. Scout was so cool during the fight when he went from pow to pow. Pyro then copied Scout's dodging before flimsy air-kicking and looking back at Scout excitedly. If they could see their eyes, they would notice the obvious stars within them.

"Exactly!" He answered, pointing to Pyro with a wide grin.

Scout then violently winced and leaned forward, covering the stump where his arm was. Honey seeped through his fingers, staining the boxing gloves with its sticky residue, as a broken candy cane stuck out from between his middle and ring finger, bits of fluff that Pyro assumed was flesh hanging from the open wound.

"Ow, fuck." He exclaimed, gritting his teeth. "Ow, ow, ow, ow."

"We will go to doktor now." Heavy said.

"Nah, it's cool, I'll just respawn…" He trailed off and narrowed his eyes after looking around the area, tapping his pockets. "Or not. Unless you got a gun on you?"

Heavy raised his fists.

"What?" He stared at Heavy, gobsmacked. "No, you're not going to cave my head in!"

"Hudduh!" Pyro showed Scout their flare gun.

Scout vigorously shook his head upon seeing it. "No way, you ain't settin' me on fire!"

Pyro frowned, but pocketed their flare anyway.

"Then Scout will go to doktor."

Scout's frown was the equivalent of a pout, with him groaning and hanging his head. "Yeah, yeah…"

The trio looked at Scout's arm, which was laid out on the gravel with a puddle of honey around it. Pyro noticed it twitching slightly, but they weren't sure if it was a result of their vision or if Scout's arm was actually twitching because of a muscle reflex.

Scout groaned as he stood up, walking towards his arm and picking it up. He turned back to Heavy and Pyro. "So, uh, what're you guys up to?"

Pyro made a scooping motion with their arms before knocking on an invisible helmet on their head. 'They were planning to eat with Engineer!' They hoped to portray.

Scout tilted his head with a squint of his eyes. "You're eating with Engineer?" He guessed.

Pyro gave him two thumbs up and a quick nod of their head.

"I will be eating with doktor." Heavy answered.

"Cool," Scout smirked and used his ripped off arm to wave goodbye to them. "Peace. Imma go eat some grub."

Pyro watched Scout walk around the corner, leaving the two in silence.

After hearing Scout's footsteps decrease in volume, they turned to face the larger man and spoke to him despite the muffled words. Heavy simply stared at them with a blank expression, grunting whenever Pyro finished a sentence.

"Hudduh!" Pyro chopped the air before looking back and vigorously nodding. "Hu-huh! Hurrah!"

Heavy grunts in acknowledgement.

"Hurruduh, mifff!" He shouted.

Heavy, once again, grunted in acknowledgement.

Pyro wasn't actually saying anything; they just enjoyed saying random words. It was funny to see their teammates attempt to make sense of what they were saying when they were, in reality, saying nothing.

After Pyro said some more nonsense words, Heavy crossed his arms. "Pyro is eating with Engineer, Да?"

Pyro nodded. They forgot about that. They wondered if supper was finished yet. Perhaps not, since the sun hasn't completely set yet. Maybe it had, and Engineer was waiting for them.

Engineer rarely sought them out, not because he didn't enjoy their company but because they usually went looking for him themselves. It was pointless for Engineer to look for him if Pyro seeked him out themselves. Not to mention that he was constantly drawing up blueprints for new designs and got distracted to where he wouldn't leave his workshop.

"Then Engineer is waiting for you." Said Heavy, standing up with a groan and making his way in the direction that Scout left towards, looking back at them with a nod. "I will see you later."

Pyro waved to him. That was fun while it lasted.

But before Heavy left, Scout slid across the gravel as he came around the corner, face warped with disgust and anxiety. His brows were furrowed, and his ripped off arm had been abandoned, nowhere to be seen with him.

Both Heavy and Pyro looked at him, puzzled, when he came running up to them in a dazed panic.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" he muttered repeatedly.

"What is matter?" Heavy asked.

"There's something over there!" Scout yelled, pushing past the two and standing behind them. "What the fuck was that thing!? What the fuck?!"

"Calm down."

"Calm down?!" He cried. "There's some weird fuckin' thing over there!"

Heavy grunted and began walking towards what Scout was talking about, with Pyro trailing behind him to see what it was. "Is probably prank."

"That's some creepy ass prank if it was!"

There were thunderous crashing sounds coming from around the corner, with metal clanking against wooden and metallic objects, and hollow-sounding barrels being tossed about recklessly.

Pyro looked at Heavy, who continued towards the source of the noise, suddenly feeling uneasy. They weren't sure why; they could just set fire to whatever it was, but what gave them pause were the noises.

It sounded like moans and deep breathing. There were snorts interspersed with hiccups and gasps. The laughter was the loudest.

Suddenly, reality shifted for them.

Heavy was no longer a protective bear.

He became a baby.

Pyro felt compelled to protect him, so they pulled out their flare gun and crouched slightly as they turned the corner.

The noises were horrifying. They were loud. The laughter sounded too hollow. It did not sound like regular laughter.

Heavy laughed cheekily and stopped to clap his hands over whatever was in front of them.

What is that thing?

It gave Pyro pause, and their heart plummeted to the pit of their stomach.

They were aware their Pyro vision warped reality, but they still understood what reality was. This couldn't have been reality.

It was a gumdrop. Too large to be of human size.

The large gumdrop bounced between the building and fence in front of them, scattering candy canes, lollipops, and structures in its wake. Even with their Pyro vision, they can see the damage the candy caused. It had a leg sticking out of it, as well as an arm that Pyro assumed belonged to Scout.

It was inhuman. It was unnatural. And somehow they knew that whatever that thing was, it wasn't going to kill them.

Heavy giggled again, Scout hovering behind them with his shoulders hunched, their grins wide with anticipation.

What was that thing?

Pyro aimed their flare gun at it, hearing it pop and land on the gelatin. They observed it sink into the red coloured candy. A second passed. Nothing happened.

Panic crept into their chest. Their flare gun did nothing.

Fire did nothing.

Heavy ran towards it with outstretched arms before Pyro could grab him to stop him. But the gelatin remained unfazed when Heavy ran into it, the texture of the candy jiggling when he smacked into it with a hefty fist.

Heavy went for another tickle, and his arm remained inside the gelatin. He tried fruitlessly to pull his arm back, all the while bellowing about it. Scout giggled again, and Pyro gasped, involuntarily stepping back in fear.

The gumdrop consumed Heavy.

Heavy broke out into babyish laughter as he flailed his arms while the gumdrop swallowed him into its gelatin. There were brief respites of Heavy laughing, hiccuping, and giggling while being swallowed, grabbing whatever was around him and trying to pull away.

It only took under a minute for him to be fully submerged in the gumdrop. Yet he was still laughing like he was having the time of his life.

What terrified them wasn't the fact that Heavy was inside the gumdrop.

It was that he wasn't dying.

Before, Pyro would find their babyish laughters hilarious, knowing what was happening on the outside, knowing that they were the cause for their laughter as they sprayed fire veiled to be rainbows at them.

For the first time, they didn't want to know why they were laughing so much.

Pyro felt a smaller hand wrap around their wrist, and they turned to see Scout grasping their hand tightly and silently. Heavy's laughter became almost garbled, and they looked back in time to see the gumdrop approach them.

They felt as if their lungs were constricted, and their throat was tight. The gelatinous candy approached them rapidly, erupting in garbled laughter that chilled Pyro to the core.

Through their blind fear, they felt Scout dragging them away. He looked almost giddy at the sight of Heavy being consumed, saying some words that Pyro couldn't comprehend properly with the weighty mask over their head.

Still, the message was clear: run.

They both ran from the sight, their feet pounding against the ground, the vicinity becoming slowly darker and more difficult to see with the setting sun.

Pyro huffed, stumbling over their feet to keep up with Scout's quick steps. It was almost incredible how they managed to keep up with the speedy bunny. But when they heard banging behind them, they didn't think about it for long.

The banging was too close. No matter how fast they ran, the banging from behind them remained audible. It was too close.

And that laughter. That laughter was still echoing from behind them.

Scout let go of their hand and rushed to the shed's doors, shoulder-checking them open. Baby Scout continued to giggle, as if they were playing tag. A very, very warped game of tag. Pyro entered seconds later, tripping over their feet and collapsing on their knees.

"Huh! Huh!" Pyro screamed, pointing to the door erratically. Close it! Close it!

He slammed the door behind them, causing an audible click. As they waited for the gumdrop to make a sound, there was a tense stillness in the air, and not even their breathing could be heard. They both stared at the door for a moment, Pyro's breathing laboured.

One second longer.

Before, there was a bang.

Pyro let out a short scream, and they crawled away from the door, Scout following suit as he took large steps back. They pressed themselves against the wall in an attempt to escape, with walls on both sides and no other way out except for the door the gumdrop was in front of.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Scout looked around the room, his eyes darting from one object to the next, before running to a large chocolate bar and grunting, attempting to push it down. He returned to Pyro and nodded, laughing and babbling. Pyro sat frozen, staring at the broken door and then at Scout, who was struggling to push the candy bar.

They couldn't move. Their legs were frozen. Their breathing was erratic. They were about to die. They were going to die.

Pyro leaned forward and covered their face. They were going to die. Heavy died. And now Pyro and Scout were going to die.

They… They didn't want to die.

They still had to eat dinner with Engineer.

That gumdrop was going to kill them.

Fire did nothing against it.

There was a cacophony of laughter from outside, dead and empty, as there was more violent knocking from outside. Scout danced towards the door with a twirl, giggling. He placed a hand on the doorknob and Pyro practically screamed when he opened it.

They were going to die.

"Pyro, Scout! Let's go!"

Pyro's breath hitched when they recognised the voice.

A rough hand grabbed their forearm and forcefully picked them up, Pyro letting out a brief yelp and looking up to see Engineer in front of them. Engineer had always looked like a goat with long horns with their Pyro vision. For the first time, they only saw Engineer.

"What happened to you, son?" Engineer quietly muttered.

Pyro let out gasps as they ran beside Scout and Engineer, not bothering with an answer.

Fire did nothing.

Scout babbled some words, and Engineer answered. But Pyro only heard the garbled laughter from behind them. Everything was muffled. There were no other noises besides Pyro's panicked breathing and thumping heart.

Fire didn't do anything.

Their last safety net. Fire. Did nothing.

They were almost close to the back doors of the base before something grabbed Pyro by their ankles. They fell forward, and there was a deafening crack of glass. Their vision flickered between reality and fiction, the world blinking between the regular grey one and the vibrant candy land they've become familiar with.

They grunted, letting out a weak cough, as they glanced up at Engineer and Scout.

The two looked at them, horrified.

No. They weren't looking at them. They were looking behind them.

Something held Pyro's head down, and they grunted in pain.

"PYRO!" Engineer cried over the cacophony of yelling and screaming and anguished sobs that mixed with laughter and babbling.

Noises swirled together, forming an amalgam. Their vision shifted between reality and their false narrative of the world, with the sounds of their goggles smashing and cracking under the weight of the candy.

Their bones cracked, and they screamed in agony. Their toe bones snapped, followed by their feet, then their legs. Everything in their body gradually cracked and splintered into an explosion. They whimpered, scratching at the ground and releasing soft gasps of fear and pain. There was laughter and sobbing, and they had no idea where it came from.

They didn't know why they were so terrified. They would respawn, after all. But the gumdrop's words lingered in their mind. One word stood out among the men, women, and unidentified people trapped in the beast.

"Help."

Or maybe it was their voice? Maybe they mistook the screams for their own? Maybe there were no conglomerate noises, and it was just their mind screaming for them to get away.

How did their voice sound again?

"Pyro, Pyro, we're tryin' to help you!"

Was that their voice screaming for help?

They tried calling out Engineer's name, and Scout briefly shot at the monster with the flare gun he somehow got a hold of before the candy land world replaced their vision. Scout and Engineer were giggling to themselves, as if they were sharing an inside joke, as they pointed their candy cane and bubble blower at the gumdrop.

Rainbows and bullets sprayed the candied beast. It did nothing.

Pyro felt themselves scream in relief when they no longer felt the mass weight pin them down.

They tried yelling for Engineer to help them, to grab them, to save them, and to run.

But they felt their blood drain when they realised Scout had knocked Engineer out.

Scout looked back at Pyro, grimacing before dragging him away. He didn't yell or say any comforting words like what a superhero would do in a comic. He didn't even say "sorry."

They were going to die.

"Sc—out…" Pyro managed to groan, seeing the merc halt in fear and shock. They had to speak clearly, so the heavy duty gas mask didn't muffle their voice, making damn sure that Scout heard them clearly, and heard every word they had to say. "Rot… hell…"

Scout looked horrified at Pyro, saying something they couldn't comprehend from the distance and the conglomerate noises swirling around them, before sprinting around the corner with Engineer's body in tow, guns left behind.

Pyro closed their eyes in acceptance.


"What're the BLU's like?" Tavish inquired, leaning back and drinking some more of the cheap beer.

The forest was peaceful, with the wind whistling between the trees and the branches gently rustling. He wasn't a fan of the forested scenery since he couldn't set off as many explosives without damaging the local wildlife, but it came in handy when they needed to conceal their—his and BLU Soldier's—friendship.

They could sneak into the forest without anyone noticing, and none of the security cameras set up would catch them. Not to mention the Administrator's lack of experience with normal friendships. She was more oblivious to how a friend acted then Spy was. Though that made it all the easier to hang out with Soldier.

Soldier was usually the first to arrive at their meeting spot, followed by Tavish with a box of beer, vodka, scrumpy, or whisky, depending on what they felt like drinking that day.

It's been two months since they first met, and it was still difficult to comprehend just how different he was from RED Soldier. He was more at ease and less tense, and while Tavish initially chalked it up as an error with Engineer and Medic's cloning process—however they made the clones—he soon realised that he was becoming, or already was, his own person.

It was perplexing, and while Tavish had a lot of questions, he chose not to ask out of courtesy.

"What do you mean?" Soldier asked, tilting his head.

"Personality-wise, how different are you lot to us?" He rephrased. "'Cause yer different from RED Soldier. Very different."

'You're almost like your own person.' Went unsaid.

Soldier considered it, popping the cap on his drink and sipping it slowly.

"Right there!" Tavish spoke abruptly as Soldier wiped his mouth, and the American looked perplexed. "Solly would just down the whole thing, say, "A true American would shotgun it!" and choke on it!"

Soldier hummed and slowly nodded. "Sounds like something I woulda done. Still do. Just s'not often."

"See, different."

"Doc got rid of the lead poisoning. Been a lot easier to think clearly."

Tavish somewhat frowned, disappointed with the answer. He wasn't sure why that was, though. Maybe he was hoping he was becoming his own person? Either way, it was a disappointing answer.

Soldier continued, unknowing of what he was thinking just now. "Still got my moments, though."

Then his leisurely smile turned into a sharp grin. "But 'bout my team. You'd be in for a surprise if you ever met them. Crazy bastards with lots of personality."

Doesn't sound too different from his own team, he mused, but he couldn't say much on the matter, considering just how different BLU Soldier was.

"Who isn't when workin' as a merc?" Tavish jokes.

Soldier muttered something, and Tavish leaned in closer. "Couldn't hear ya. Repeat that?" He inquired, and Soldier slowly shook his head.

"Nah, just something funny." Soldier spoke with a sudden lack of humour in his voice. He looked at him, confused, wondering where the sudden tonal shift came from.

"Was funny?" Tavish asked.

"That you're the only one to acknowledge us as equals since the whole cloning thing. We're like crocodiles and alligators." He chuckled at his own joke and downed the rest of his beer. Then he frowned. "Or we're crocodiles too?"

Was this supposed to be some euphemism on the cloning thing?

The Scottish man gave him a weird look before shrugging. Best not to question Soldier when he said something odd. He'd just find a way to turn the conversation back to the American dream.

"Sure."


He wasn't sure why the memory came to him then, and he quickly purged it from his mind.

Tavish limped beside the two BLUs, allowing them to lead him to the torture room where he'd be extorted for information. The halls were far cleaner than the RED's base, with cement lining the walls and floors rather than wooden planks. There were also neon blue signs and maps at every corner. Looking at the maps, the building was a lot larger than he first imagined.

Normally, when they infiltrated the BLU's base for assigned battle days, the team would head straight to the intel room, not bothering to investigate further. The base was too large to properly investigate, and it didn't matter in the end if they were scheduled to move every few days or months.

But this base was practically a maze. It was a wonder how BLU even maintained everything. Over at RED, everything they needed was within reach. Sure, the base was small, but it was more practical and cost less to maintain, according to Redmond.

The fact that Redmond was cheaper than Blutarch kind of annoyed Tavish. How'd his team get stuck with the cheaper boss? Well, there wasn't much they could do about that now.

He observed the two BLUs as they walked, their footsteps quiet and their words sparse.

They were much more sombre than the RED team, less talkative, and more direct. Even Scout acted more professionally.

Tavish knew why that was, of course, he knew why they were so quiet, why they never stepped out of line or went against the RED team, the Administrator, and Ms. Pauling's wishes, despite battling them to the death every week.

They were clones; they were risking permanent death every living day. Subhuman, barely anything but a second thought. Who would care for a couple of clone deaths, right?

When in battle, they were much more alive. They acted like how the RED team acted when in battle.

But here, though, they were quiet, somewhat personal with each other.

He figured that's how they survived for so long. By keeping quiet and complicit with enough personality to keep them alive.

Soldier had a lot of insecurities with being a clone when they first started hanging out. It took a while, but Tavish had hoped before their fight, even now, that Soldier was somewhat more grounded in reality and came to accept that he was his own person.

Or maybe Tavish unravelled all that work and worsened that insecurity after their fight.

He couldn't care less now.

The bastard betrayed him anyway.

"What's got you so distracted?" The Scout suddenly asked.

Tavish looked at him in mild surprise and grunted in answer.

He wouldn't normally be this impatient with people—he knows these clones don't deserve it given how much shit they get into by everyone—but the quiet yet buzzing ringing, most likely caused by his head injury, and the rapidly draining blood from the gash on his arm, made him want to snap at them.

"Dunno, probably the gammy arm." He narked.

"Doc's gonna fix that up for you anyway," said the young man, stuffing his hands in his pockets and eyeing the Medic who was walking ahead of them. "Probably."

"Really fillin' me with confidence there."

Scout raised his arms, his palms facing in Tavish's direction, as he tried to come across placating. "'Ey, no harm meant 'ere. Just sayin' since, uh, doc over there doesn't like…" he waved to his red shirt, lifting his brow.

"Shocking." He really wasn't in the mood to talk.

Scout shrugged. "Can't blame us, can you?"

"Aye, woulda done the same if things were reversed." Tavish then thought about it. "Nae, scratch that, I woulda just shot you without hearing ye out. Surprised you heard me out at all."

"'Was a little shocked by your ugly mug to do anythin'." Scout retorted.

"Want me to explain what happened or not?"

Scout became hushed, and he looked over at him with a puzzled expression as the Boston's face became serious. He held back a surprised whistle. BLU Scout was more expressive than his own Scout, where while this Scout's emotions were everywhere, RED Scout typically had only three modes: flirtation, "seriousness," as in he just looks like a frustrated puppy, and cockiness.

He wasn't sure if it was because this Scout's expressions were due to him being solemn, but his emotions changed at the snap of a finger.

He wouldn't say the wean was more clever than RED Scout, but he was more adept at controlling his impulses.

Shockingly, he then spoke in a whisper. "That monster."

"What about it?"

"You said it doesn't kill people, right?" He continued without waiting for an answer. "Ms. Pauling said it looked like it wasn't supposed to exist. Do you think it's… I dunno, a threat from God? Like, he's punishin' us for… killing or something?"

Yup. No more clever than RED Scout.

Tavish pivoted his head to look at Scout, surprised he hadn't unscrewed his own head. Though he was more baffled by the question.

"The feck kinda question is that?" His volume was loud, and it briefly caught the attention of Medic. "What- no. That's just- no. It's probably, I dunno, something else besides that."

"Well, it's an honest question!" Scout rebuked, chewing the inside of his mouth and looking everywhere else besides Tavish. "I mean, we've all fucked up, right? Maybe God just- just got sick of our crap or some shit. Satan and God got together to like, divine punish us and sent some monster from hell. And… oh god, do we go to heaven?"

"What?"

Scout looked panicked towards the Medic. "We got souls, don't we? We gotta, right? 'Cause we're still living creatures, right? Our- we can go to heaven! There's no way there's nothin' for us when we die!"

"Lad, You're overthinking this."

Scout turned his attention to Tavish, biting his lower lip. "How do you know that, huh? We ain't human, so what if we're just nothin' to the universe?"

"Scout." Medic's tone took a warning edge to it, looking back at him with an expression Tavish couldn't decipher.

Scout stared at Medic with a weary face, and after staring at each other, he relented. "I got it… Don't need to get after me again."

Tavish went to ask what that meant before Medic paused by a door.

"We're here."

The Scottish man looked where "here" was and noticed the words "Medical" on a sign above the door. There was a translucent window to the room on the door, and Tavish peered in, trying to have a sneak peek inside before being inevitably tortured.

He wondered what kind of torture weapons this Medic had or if he was more of a psychological torturer; this Medic seemed more like a Chinese water torture than a lobotomy type of sadist.

He had to give his own Medic props; the doctor never tortured people's minds, only their bodies.

This doctor, however, was more difficult to figure out.

Daft bastard, sure, but he was more reserved and Tavish wasn't even sure if he was sadistic to begin with.

He never seemed sadistic like Medic in battle, but he couldn't be sure when he was 96% of the time pissed off his rocker, and it wasn't like he could trust Pyro's word that this Medic wasn't "as sadistic" and he was "more compassionate." Even Medic scoffed at the idea.

As Tavish rubbed his neck where the makeshift knife had been held, a brief frown crossed his face. Spy was usually in charge of examining suspicious figures and telling them who to trust and who not to trust, but here he was, inside the BLU's base, having to think long and hard about whether he could trust them.

Aye. There was too much thinking today.

The door swung open with a creak, and Tavish was instantly hit with a sterile scent, causing him to scrunch his nose in disgust.

He had expected it to smell like blood, as his own Medic's ward did, but given how different these clones had been so far, he really needed to stop being surprised.

They were drastically different from the RED team. Though given that they've been alive for four years, this didn't come as a surprise. People were bound to change, given their circumstances. But Medic being this different was unexpected.

Medic stalked over to a bench table, waving his hand to a bed as Scout hopped up on a nearby coffee table. "Sit on the bed, Herr Demoman. I'll see what I can do."

"Can't use the Medi gun on me?" He asked.

"It doesn't work on REDs." He answered mildly.

Tavish watched as he picked up bright blue latex gloves from a drawer and pulled them on, flexing his fingers before opening more drawers and pulling out sterilisers, needles, pliers, along with rubbing alcohol and other supplies he couldn't name, neatly lining them up on a tray.

Everything in the room screamed 'medic,' but while there were similarities between this med bay and RED's med bay, there were also significant differences, such as everything being orderly and sterile in this med bay. Not to mention the tiled floors lacking oxidised blood and yellowish, unidentified stains.

Tavish eyed the two BLUs as he settled on the bed, slouching over as he felt his insides curl from pain. Still, he remained steadfast and watched as Medic prepped for surgery.

"While doc's over there setting things up, I ain't gonna waste anymore time: this, uh, monster. What does it do to people?"

"Now ya bloody believe me," Tavish muttered.

Medic huffed and lifted the tray, walking towards him while pushing a stool beside the Scot with his feet and sitting down on it in one smooth motion as if he'd done it a hundred times before, speaking while doing so. "It's hard to believe an incoherent man when he's speaking in tongues."

Scout then added. "I don't like the bitch, but Ms. Pauling ain't a liar like you."

"Aye… true that. But this ain't somethin' to lie about." He grumbled in response.

"Give me your arm. I need to sterilise the area first." Medic asked.

Tavish looked at him with a narrowed eye. "Ye ain't gonna amputate it, are you?"

The doctor looked offended by the prospect, almost aghast at the idea. And Tavish, in turn, was left baffled. Medic? Offended? He would've taken this as an offer to terrify him some more.

"I'm a doctor, Herr Demoman. Not unprofessional."

He looked at the German with perplexed judgement, which Medic picked up on, becoming increasingly offended and tensed. Tavish thought the daft bastard was going to pull a knife on him again, but after a moment, the evident anger in his eyes was tampered down, and his frown dampened.

"It's not like I can convince you anyhow." He responded by sighing through his nose and holding out his hand, which Tavish regarded suspiciously. "We can't fight whatever it is that scares you unless you are in top shape. While I would go to the BLU base and retrieve RED Medic's Medi gun, we haven't been briefed on anything yet, and I'd rather not take any chances."

He pinched his lips. A minute goes by, and he exhales. "…Aye, fine, but ye better not go radge and cut it off in the name of science."

"Ja. You have my word."

He reluctantly placed his hand on the other's gloved hand, feeling how cold it was through the latex.

That was something he noticed about the BLU team: their hands, and really their entire bodies, were always baltic. Their body temperatures were "dangerously low" as Medic put it.

What did Medic say again? "Something-something, their bodies couldn't maintain blood well because their bodies are unstable"? That must be it.

Because of that, they only spent a week at the Alaskan base. They would collapse and die after being out in the winter for more than a couple of hours, or less in Scout's case.

Good thing too. The cold was making it difficult to set off bombs, since the snow always smothered the explosions. Pyro was also getting frustrated when he couldn't set shit on fire, and a frustrated Pyro meant a burnt down base.

As Medic tenderly pulled up his sleeve, he noticed massive blood clots that rolled down his arm and began to drip off almost immediately. Scout paled at the sight, arching his body away to avoid looking at the wound.

"How'd you get this wound?" Medic asked.

"Jumped out of the second-story window and onto the fence."

The two looked puzzled, Medic more so than Scout.

"Why would you do that?"

Tavish grimaced and remained silent, wondering how he should explain it to them. "I was separated from me mates 'cause we were being chased by the thing. 'Least I think so; it was too dark to see properly, and I obviously don't have peripheral vision with one eye." There, that was the best explanation he could give them.

"Ah… ja. "The Monster"." Medic responded before one-handedly pouring some liquid onto a flattened cloth. "This is going to sting."

"Aye."

Tavish hissed when the cloth touched his wound, watching how the white towel soaked his blood almost immediately. Fortunately and shockingly enough, the doctor was gentle, expertly wiping the blood away. He then went for another bottle, pouring it onto his wound and feeling the instant coolness of it.

"No alcohol?" Tavish questioned.

"Alcohol?"

"The stinging stuff that smells like rubbing alcohol."

"Nein, hydrogen peroxide damages tissue, slowing down the healing process. This is just soap and cold water."

"Thought ye lot were bad with the baltic."

Scout answered before Medic could. "We ain't bad with the regular cold stuff, just really cold weather."

"Explains a lot." And he also lost a bet to Pyro that they drank boiling water instead of regular water.

"Anyway, 'nuff questions 'bout us." Scout hopped off the table and stood next to the two, his arms crossed and his expression grave. "You said you'd tell us what happened, so tell us what happened."

"Aye, lemme think for a moment. Just need to gather my thoughts."

There were a few seconds of silence while the two BLUs allowed him to think of what to say.

After another second, he spoke in a hushed tone. "It… doesn't kill 'em. At least, I don't think so."

"You said that."

"'M gettin' there. It's just hard to explain." Tavish shook his head. "Best way I can explain it? It—it eats them…"

He thought about it some more.

"Nae, that can't be right."

Medic quirked a brow. "Eats them?"

"Aye, or it looks it." He scratched beneath his chin and stared distantly at the ground. "Spy was feelin' off' after the battle. Being more paranoid than usual. None of us knew why, since the bloody bastard never tells us shit. Then the water was cold, so Sniper offered to turn it back on. Thought the thing got 'im, but ye bampots had a run in with him, so…"

He shrugged.

He watched as Medic cleared away the remaining blood before leaning over to grab another towel and press on the wound. He continued explaining after a second. "Scout, Pyro, 'n Heavy saw it first outside. At least that's what I heard from Engineer and Scout."

"Obviously, like you lot, we didn't believe 'em." He chuckled sardonically. "Who would? You know? Crazy feckin' claim that was. "The monster ate Heavy and Pyro!" Buncha loony claims that was."

Medic straightened and Scout looked alarmed, the Boston inquiring. "The monster ate Heavy and Pyro?"

He pinched his lips and shook his head with a contemptuous smirk, not bothering to indulge him on the answer they already knew.

"Nicked us off one by one. Tried headin' to respawn when I couldn't find me teammates after separating, hoping I could've found someone there. But…" He trailed off with a huff. "All of 'em were just gone. Poof. No heads or tails. Just gone. I know one thing, though: it didn't kill 'em."

"Found Soldier later. We tried to blow the fucker sky high. That didn't work. So we shot at it. Still didn't work. Retreated when none of our guns were workin' and got separated when it found us again. That's why I jumped out the window."

"What happened to Spy and Medic?"

"…Dunno."

Tavish went silent, and he suddenly felt naked without a scrumpy in his hand. Shit, he was getting too sober. He nearly felt insecure without his scrumpy. With his scrumpy, he wouldn't have to acknowledge what was going on here, and he'd be more confident.

But it was pointless to ask the two if they had any, given that their Demoman had stopped drinking. Which was kind of absurd, but, again, they were different. Still, a Scottish Demoman quitting drinking? He ain't a true Scot even if he was himself.

Scout looked at Medic incredulously after Tavish finished speaking, who didn't respond. He looked deep in thought, pressing on his arm's wound.

"Describe the eating process." Medic inquired after a second.

Tavish paused, looking at Medic with an unreadable expression, before closing his eyes and sighing through his nose. "It just grabs 'em, pulls 'em into its skin and… I dunno, they just disappear. When we found it first, there were limbs already still stickin' out of it. Must've gotten someone else before. Dunno who though. Or how, or when."

Medic thought about it for a moment. "…It absorbed them?"

Tavish responded with only a shrug.

"What did Ms. Pauling mean by 'give 'em a proper burial'?" Scout asked.

"Dunno, lad." He stared at the ground distantly. "Really don't know. Maybe she knew more than me? Wouldn't put it past the lassie."

"So, wait, wait," Scout put his hands up, palms facing Tavish's direction, and motioned it forward and backwards, covering his mouth afterwards. "This thing absorbs people, is what you're gettin' at? And it's so strong that even Heavy couldn't get himself out of its grip?"

He shrugged once more. "Must be. Wasn't there when Heavy was taken. But can't really tell ye what it does."

Scout looked at Medic. "What if it's a spider? Just scoops people up and brings 'em to its lair."

The doctor shook his head. "We can't be sure… hm. I'll need to do a few stitches on this. Can you hold this, junge?"

Scout went to take Medic's place as the German stood up, walking over to a drawer while the younger man continued rambling. "Well, it doesn't just eat people. If it did, they gotta die at some point. It's been, what? An hour already? Unless it's holding on to 'em for later."

"Again, we don't know."

Tavish hadn't noticed that the Medic was tapping a syringe, pressing down on the plunger, and releasing an unknown liquid. He became squeamish, but kept it hidden from the two BLUs while staring at the mysterious liquid-filled needle.

Bloody hell, he didn't realise just how much Medic fucked with his fear of the doctors.

"Normally I wouldn't need anaesthesia for the small amount of stitches I'm going to need to do, but I'll be applying some due to how deep the penetration of the gash is."

"Do what you need to do."

He walked over with the needle, motioning for Scout to lift the fabric and inserting the needle in slowly. Tavish watched as he pushed the plunger, the anaesthetic being drained into his wound. He then took over and pressed on the wound again with the towel.

"It'll only take a minute."

Tavish hummed, and the trio descended into awkward silence.

Well, he told them about what happened.

Yet it wasn't exactly a satisfactory conclusion.

There were still questions, and despite knowing better, he withheld some information from them. No harm, no foul. So long as Medic can deal with the threat, they don't need to know that tid-bit of truth.

He wondered if any of his teammates, or even some of BLU, were still alive. Tavish would actually prefer being surrounded by nine enemies.

At least then they wouldn't be incomprehensible beings beyond human recognition.

Though they were likely already taken since Scout couldn't find them, it was unfortunate, but at least two of the BLUs were still alive. Better than Tavish being alone during this.

Scout, once again, broke the silence with an exclamation that surprised Tavish and Medic.

"Does anyone else hear that annoying ringing? It's been so freakin' annoying!" He asked, digging into his ear.

"It's probably just a broken light bulb." Medic answered.

"Aye, I hear it too." Tavish replied. "Probably just me head injury, though."

"Can't hear anythin' outta this ear, thanks to you." The Boston frowned as he spoke to Tavish.

Tavish felt a little guilty, but not too much. If he hadn't knocked away the gun, he would've been trapped outside with the monster. Alone. And he'd rather the company of two enemies than a monster he couldn't kill.

Medic perked up and looked between the two. "What happened?" He inquired, his frown deepening.

"Was 'bout to shoot myself since the door was locked outside, the asshole knocked the gun away and pow, set it off right beside my ear." Scout dug deeper into his ear, attempting to remove some invisible dirt. "So freakin' annoying."

He gave the Scout a miffed look. "And you haven't told me? You were deafened. That ringing you hear is tinnitus."

"Ten-nie who now?"

"Gun loud. Loud noise stops hearing. Hearing is damaged-"

"I'm not a freakin' caveman, I don't need you to tell me in stupid terms."

Medic sighed through his nose and tapped his wound simultaneously, looking back at the gash and ignoring Scout repeatedly, picking his ear in frustration. "Do you feel anything?"

"Nah."

"Alright, I'm going to stitch you up, then." He leaned over and took a thread and needle from the tray, skillfully inserting the thread into the needle and looping the two ends together before tightening the knot with his teeth and free hand. "While I'm doing this. Scout."

"What's up?"

"Go heal yourself with the Medi gun."

Tavish furrowed his brows. "Your lettin' 'im use the gun?"

"It's just flipping a switch. Besides," he gave Scout a hard look. "If he breaks it, we won't have any way of healing ourselves."

"I ain't gonna break it." He said this as he walked towards the Medi gun propped against the wall. "You said it was just a switch?"

Tavish felt pressure in his skin, assuming Medic was sewing it back together, while the German spoke to Scout. "Ja, point it at yourself, then flip the switch and continue pointing it at yourself until you are healed. Actually, keep pointing it at yourself until the thermometer reaches the hundredth mark. I want to charge the Uber."

Scout followed his instructions while he spoke, with a blue beam striking him as he slumped in relief and spoke after Medic had finished instructing him. "So, uh, what happens after we get Demoman all healed up? Do we just hunt down this monster? 'Cause I'd really like to get Spy's head back before we do anythin'."

"It would be unsafe to get Spy's head back if we don't know what's happening with the monster."

Scout chewed his lip. "Yeah, sure."

"Don't worry about yer Spy." Tavish said this while watching Medic finish sewing the last bits of his flesh together. "I said I'd give him back, so I am."

Scout remained wary, and Tavish couldn't blame him. He wouldn't trust them either if their positions were reversed.

After cutting the thread, Medic wrapped it in gauze with such tenderness that RED Medic couldn't compare. He was glad to be over with this, even though it was still strange to see this Medic be so gentle.

"The stitches will hold, but don't jostle it too much until we find your Medic's Medi gun."

Tavish rolled his shoulders, nodded, and hummed. It was still sore, his head was killing him, and the ringing in his ears persisted, but he could do so much more now that he wasn't bleeding out. Better than having to rush into battle with a flimsy arm and be potentially useless to them.

"Aye, uh, thanks, I guess."

Medic nodded.

"Do you have a security room?" He asked.

"We do, but it hasn't been used in a while," Scout answered.

Medic frowned at Scout, who stared at him with a "What did I say wrong?" expression. Tavish was more preoccupied with his own thoughts.

"You can't just tell the enemy-" he stopped himself and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ja, we have a security room."

"Is the footage for the camera prerecorded or live?" Questioned Tavish.

Medic said, "Both."

"Do ya need it to see if the monster's still here?" Scout inquired, bending his head and turning off the Medi gun, which Tavish hadn't noticed was still on.

The buzz that came with the Medi gun was muffled, filling the room with only the incessant ringing. He somewhat wished for the buzz of the Medi gun to return, but he only heard the creaking in the walls of the BLU's base as the structure settled, as well as the wind airily flowing through the vents.

It was too quiet, and it unsettled him. He shuffled his clothing to fill the room with something other than stillness, and he spotted Scout doing the same. Strange, but he didn't mind. Almost appreciating the act. Almost.

"Yeah." He answered.

"It's on the other side of the building." Medic said, standing up and taking off his gloves, tossing them to the bench table. He continued speaking while checking his Medi gun over. "We'll stock up on weapons while we head over to the security room."

"Weapons won't do anythin'." Tavish said with a frown.

Scout snorted with wry amusement. "Sure, man, but there're still threats around."

Tavish felt his blood draining suddenly at those words. "…Threats?" He asked in a whisper, breathless.

His chest clenched, making it difficult to breathe, and dread laid heavy in his throat.

What kind of threats would there be? What kind of threats would he face that weren't that monster?

He was already dealing with one issue. Why would he need more?

Would this threat eat him too? Scout didn't seem worried, so maybe the threat wasn't as bad as the monster.

But what if?

He remembered what he found in that respawn room. What that fucking monster did to his teammates. What it almost did to him.

What if?

"Yeah, duh, you." His words were muffled to his ears.

"Scout, quit, something's wrong."

His chest hurt.

"Demoman," an icy hand rested on his shoulder. "Demoman, you need to calm down."

Had his breathing picked up?

"Herr Degroot."

The use of his name made his gaze snap to the doctor in shock, suddenly brought back to the present.

"How do you know my…?" He asked breathlessly.

"I have medical files." Medic answered, staring him in the eyes with that blank, uncanny expression. "Are you with us now?"

"Yeah," he thickly swallowed. "Aye."

"Gut. If you start to panic, we won't get anywhere."

He jerkily nodded. "A-Aye."

It was then that he noticed he was now wearing his coat uniform without the vest and collared shirt that usually accompanied it. He resembled a cartoon villain in his unbuttoned white coat and black turtleneck, carrying the Medi gun by his side, while Scout stood off to the side with a small revolver, looking like a sidekick.

They looked natural beside each other. It was a given though, considering they'd been teammates for four years.

"Unless you want to stay behind, we're going to the security room."

Tavish stared at them, cautiously shifting his gaze to the door. The medical ward felt safe with the two in it, as stupid as that sounded with two literal enemies in front of him. However, without them, he felt a creeping sense of dread.

He took a deep breath, stood up, and plodded towards them.

He had a mission to complete, and he didn't want to disappoint his mum by running away and being fired.

"Let's go."


Notes:

I said I'd reveal the monster, but I never said HOW. Thanks and sorry for your involuntary sacrifice Pyro.

I hope I didn't underwhelm anyone or make this funny with the monster reveal. I know revealing the monster in a story can be really underwhelming. So I tried my best to not reveal it TOO much until the right moment. Again, to the rare person reading this, criticism is allowed! I don't want this to be too disappointing since I've been hyping it up for so long.

In other news: I love making everyone hypocritical. Scout complaining about the cold water and then following that with saying he can survive without cold water, and having Pyro say the BLU team doesn't know any better about work relationships when they have a father-child relationship with Engineer, lol.

Also, I made Medic way more sassy then I initially intended. But honestly? I like a sassy Medic. He's a baby girl and a queen. I also accidentally gave him an outfit. Whoops. But the Medic coat over a turtleneck looks badass in my head, so I'm overlooking it.

Till next time folks! Sorry this took so long to get out!

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