They knocked a few times at the door. Spy, who was wandering around the smoking room with a cigarette in hand, didn't stop to reply: "Go away."

"Spy, it's me. Scout."

"…Come in."

Scout walked in and had the rare consideration of shutting it behind him. The two mercenaries remained silent, avoiding to look at one another to the face, for a very long while, so long one could wonder why Scout had come in and why Spy had let him in. Scout was the first to do something. He cleared his throat and finally seemed to find the words with which to start that conversation so awkward yet so necessary.

"Is…everything okay?"

"Yes. And you? How do you feel?" Spy quickly evaded the question.

"Well, my whole body itches—but I'm fine, yeah. It's sweet to have hands and being able to talk again."

Spy nodded to that response.

"…It's been hard for me, but…Uh…It was thanks to you."

"Me?" Spy rose his eyebrows.

"Yep…"

Spy averted his eyes, taking a drag.

"You jumped in to help and almost got killed because of it. You didn't have to. If it wasn't for you, I'd be a dead rabbit by now."

"Hm. Yes…No problem."

"Don't worry, in five minutes both of us will forget we ever had this conversation. I just wanted to tell you, so you can't say I'm an ingrate and stuff."

"That is very considerate from you."

Silence again. Why was it so difficult for them to maintain a conversation? Why now more than ever?

"Tell me something, Spy." Once again, it was Scout who spoke first, and he did it with a more serious tone of voice, his fine smile disappearing. "If I hadn't made it…If I had never gone back home…What would you have done?"

Spy forced himself to look at the boy into the eyes.

"Why caring about hypothetical scenarios in the past?"

"Would you have taken care of Ma for me?"

Spy didn't reply, and couldn't hold his stare at times.

"…Well…I guess it's true there's no point in going over it again." Scout crossed his arms.

"Yes."

"Anyway, I'll leave you alone with your…whatever you do in here."

Scout was about to leave when Spy stopped him, grabbing him by the shoulder. Scout turned around and Spy got his hand off him like he was burning. He remained with the hand in the air for a second, like wondering what to do with it—like wanting to place it on his shoulder again—, until he changed whatever idea was on his mind, closed it and lowered it.

"You handled the situation extremely well. I am honestly surprised that you managed to survive on your own, with such a disadvantage."

A grin grew on Scout's face.

"Uh…Wait, wait, wait, I think…We need to call Medic. That bomb broke something in your head. You caught some kind of flu in the Underworld. You're delirious." He touched Spy's forehead, like checking his temperature.

"Don't believe me if you don't want, but I am being completely sincere. You did very well, petit lapin."

"I don't know what you just said, but I swear if it's got something to do with rabbits…'Cause the guys are making me sick with rabbit jokes already!"

Spy smiled with malice. "Well, you've only got at least twenty-three more years of rabbit references."

"Hop on and ride, Spy." Scout showed him the middle finger.

That made him chuckle, though, and chuckling he headed to the door. He grabbed the doorknob to close the door, and hesitated for a moment, a very brief moment.

Once the euphoria had disappeared, he had started to question things. There was only one witness to his transformation. He didn't buy that it had just disappeared on its own. Spy knew something. He had to. He knew everything.

He pondered for that fraction of second. Then, he shook his head and walked towards the kitchen, where Soldier greeted him with such a big pat on the back that he almost made him spit his lungs out, which Heavy and Medic witnessed with a smile, and fled from Pyro, who didn't seem to have gotten the memo that he wasn't a bunny anymore and wanted to pet him and dress him up, to answer to Demo's call to go outside and see him explode a few compromising things. Miss Pauling had called that morning, telling them that the land they were in was now legally, officially Redmond Mann's property and would have to leave as soon as possible. Scout had barely heard the news when he ran to town, to the nearest payphone, to call his mother and tell her he would be there for the holidays—and to hear her voice.

Spy would perhaps tell him one day. It would take him long, because that man kept lots, lots of things to himself, and Scout would ask him to tell him not just that: everything.

Spy didn't notice he had consumed his cigarette until it was almost burning the tip of his nose. He left the butt of it inside the ashtray and resumed the walk Scout had interrupted.

He was considering the idea of looking for Merasmus very, very seriously. Whether he would do to him all the things he had sworn to do, he wasn't sure. He wanted answers and needed him to tell him.

He didn't understand what had happened. He went over the scene again and again, and found nothing that could have lifted the curse. He wasn't a wizard. He just made use of some spell books and magazines Merasmus kept around, for self-defense, like the rest of the team did. He didn't have one of those with him that night. He hadn't pronounced any magical words. In fact, he was sure he had said nothing at all. And, of course, he wasn't as stupid as to believe that it all had disappeared on its own.

Have you tried a true love's kiss?

Scout had tried. He had attempted to kiss Miss Pauling and nothing had changed. The only woman who ever loved him was his mother and she wasn't around to kiss him.

…But he had…hadn't he?...

…And…

Spy stopped. Only his soft breathing could be heard around him, until he broke it with a 'huh!', while shaking his head.

Absurd.

It was so absurd he refused to think about it any longer and decided to stop wasting time with pointless, stupid elucubrations and entertain himself with something else. He had spent too much time inside of that dark room by himself, so he reunited with his teammates. That gang of unhinged baboons sure helped distract oneself. Soldier reprimanded him about locking himself up in his private room when there was so much to do; Spy told him to mind his own business. However, he was right: there was a lot of things they had to pack and load in the vans. He started by checking the food they had left.

Even though his team saw him checking every crate and counting the cans, none of them saw his eyes turning to the window, from which he could see Scout and Demo fooling around with the explosives. The detonations and their laughter could be heard just fine from there. They would destroy something more than evidence if they weren't careful. Spy watched Scout have fun like a little boy, bringing joy back to that barren land, unnoticed by him or anyone else—the way it had always been and intended to keep that way forever.

THE END