Beginning notes:
Tumblr: boredgrace23
Don't be afraid to criticize! I want to improve as a writer and any sort of critique or analysis is welcomed!
[IMPORTANT]
Onto another important matter, I said this on my Tumblr, but let me preface this by saying that I'm not expecting anything from anyone, and I'm incredibly grateful for all the fanart I've received. The fact you'd want to create something so kind for just a fanfic makes me unimaginably happy.
However, I've had several instances where people have told me they're making fanart only to not follow through, and it's gotten to the point where I start expecting it. So, I'd prefer if you didn't offer fanart unless you're sure you can follow through with it. I don't want anyone to feel obligated, and I don't want to set up any expectations that might not happen. I hope this makes sense, and I appreciate the rare few who read this.
Chapter 18: Miss Pauling And Two Phone Calls
It had been around 14 hours since she first began driving to the town.
There had been nothing but forest and flatlands, nothing to indicate the desert that 2fort came to be known as. Thankfully, with the extra gas canisters in her trunk and her AC, she didn't have to bear the brunt of the rapidly heating atmosphere.
She was jittery after talking on the phone with Medic and Scout—Jeremy—she needed to remember that.
Jeremy, it felt awkward as it did right.
She shouldn't have been as surprised as she was to find out Medic knew Jeremy's real name. There were a lot of things she was surprised about during that phone call, things she should've noticed earlier, but hadn't.
She recognized that she had a tendency to underestimate the mercenaries, both RED and BLU, particularly their actions and intelligence.
She picked up on this after learning that BLU Soldier and RED Demoman were friends, and while she was trying to overcome her tendency to underestimate them, their actions made it impossible to not overlook them.
The bread incident, their tendency to do abhorrently stupid things that make the regular person turn green, and the fact they acted strange overall—RED Heavy's love for guns, Medic's obsession with progress, Engineer cutting off his own hand.
But now that she thought about it, she supposed she wasn't surprised that the BLU Medic hid things from her. That it was likely most of the BLU team were hiding things from her. There was potentially the fact that the RED team were still hiding things from her as well.
It certainly surprised her that the RED Demoman was actually hiding something. Again.
She kept wanting to reach for her phone and call them back, to know more, but she had to be patient and find somewhere with reception. She needed to give them time that she and they couldn't afford.
More importantly, she wanted to know why Demo refused to say anything about the monsters. Fear, she understands, could be a factor. But she found it odd that he was afraid of something like this.
They weren't afraid of dying; she knew that much from their reaction to that bread monster, but she didn't understand why he was afraid of this monster.
Was he afraid of becoming one? Jeremy on the phone call only told her what Medic told her; aside from the fact that they had become monsters, there wasn't much else to know.
Was it because the monsters seemed like they were in pain? She was under the impression they were like zombies, shambling creatures without a conscience. But the further she thought about it, the more that dread hung over her head at each conclusion she reached.
They… They couldn't be alive, could they?
It was a terrifying thought to know that her mercs were still alive, conscious and aware of everything around them, unable to control themselves, while wandering the two bases as a conglomerate mess that only wanted to merge with the next living thing. Eery, disturbing, and worst of all, a mess that needed to be cleaned up.
Pauling bit her lip and stared at the endless road. She had to trust that the Medic would know what to do. She didn't have a choice in the matter. It was either BLU Medic or having to get an outsider's assistance, which was an entirely different and more complicated matter in and of itself.
If she were to get outside help, she'd need to make sure they were quiet; she'd also need to make sure they could stay quiet. But to do all that, it would require time and effort, which she didn't have. Every minute that went by, something could happen to them.
Eventually, she knows that one of them will be killed by the other. Or worse, used to feed that monster. She couldn't care less for the BLU's, but one less thing that monster could merge with and grow from, the better.
But that didn't quell her increasing reluctance and fear—emotions she had far too little experience with.
A monster that not only absorbed people, but they were living. They were conscious and breathing within its… skin? Tissue? Wax? She wasn't sure what that thing was made of.
Alive, but barely knowing its surroundings to do anything.
It was terrifying to know such a thing could ever exist.
She wrenched her mind away from the thought of the monster, spotting a road sign ahead, worn and covered with dust, and she narrowed her eyes to read the white text hidden behind dirt patches.
When she couldn't read it, she sighed, fingers clutching the steering wheel and going to rest her car on the side of the road. She could hear the engine of her beaten-down car slow down to a halt, and she stared at the sign.
Even though she was parked directly in front of it, she could still see nothing. She dreaded seeing the numbers, knowing she was still a long way from even the town-site. She didn't want to know how far she was from her mercs, but she needed to know, anyway.
Slowly, she stepped out of her vehicle. The heat hit her face, squinting as she strode to the sign to wipe the dirt away. Her fingers brushed over the coarse texture, but the words soon revealed themselves: Motel 300 Miles.
She frowned to herself and looked around the empty field, barely feeling a breeze. There was nothing for miles—empty land of hills and the overstretching blue sky.
For the first time in what must've been years, she felt alone.
She was used to being alone; that's what she was familiar with, what she was always familiar with. She had to be alone growing up, especially after she started working for the Administrator. It was the only way to protect herself. After she started working as a hit woman, an assassin, whichever her feet carried her towards, her job was all she had. That was all she was worth.
When she first hired her mercs, she had no intentions of getting close to them—she couldn't. But she also wanted to be a good boss to them after working under a strict boss for so long. It was her fault she got close to them; let them become her friends. She doesn't and will never regret it, even if the Administrator somehow found out.
Her mercs were… good to her. It took a long time to admit that. They were good people. Better than most. And that was far more than what she could say about the Administrator.
She and the Administrator have always had a strange kind of relationship. She was a grandmother, a mom, her boss, a friend, a coworker, a companion. Whatever she needed to be for her. But there was always something strained between them. If Pauling had to guess, it was whatever the Administrator was planning.
But it wasn't any of her business. Her worth was her job. Questioning what her employer slash mother figure slash whatever she was to her wasn't in her job prescription. Maybe she'll find out one day, or maybe she never will.
She wasn't going to question it. And maybe that was her downfall, oftentimes, including now, when she knew the Administrator could easily have given her answers two hours after that monster started to attack the mercenaries. But answers from the Administrator were never that easy. She barely trusted her with her real name besides a fake one—Helen.
And maybe Pauling was okay with that. Or maybe she wasn't. There were a lot of things she couldn't understand, a lot of things she wasn't willing to understand.
Like those monsters.
Like Helen's secret.
Like the existence of the BLU team.
Like BLU Scout.
Pauling gazed back at the sign, the three words "Motel 300 Miles" taunting her.
The numbers seemed excessively large and patronising. Despite her body's overwhelming desire to give up and collapse at just how far she was from reaching her goal, she knew she couldn't. She can't.
She closed her eyes, feeling the heat hit her face as she organised her thoughts.
Reach the inn, hopefully get an update from the mercs, more work, and more driving.
She wasn't even certain that going to the town was the right course of action. She hadn't even the slightest hint of a lead besides a guess, and she was practically running into this blind. There wasn't enough time to find a contact to look into it for her, and she couldn't exactly hire either spy to look into things for her either. RED Spy was still unaccounted for, and BLU Spy was out of commission.
She can't exactly hire any other mercenaries either, not with how dire the situation was, and especially not with how… otherworldly this situation was. It wasn't a normal situation, and she didn't know how to proceed besides finding answers.
Unless…
She looked warily back at her car, staring at her brick phone that was laying in the passenger seat. She chewed her lip and gazed back at the numbers on the sign. 300 miles. That was only four hours. Three if she sped.
But she couldn't afford to waste that much time, not when half the RED team was wiped out in under an hour, and the BLU team in less time than that.
Pauling tapped her side impatiently, brows furrowing. She can't afford to waste time.
She unwittingly sighed and reluctantly walked back to her car, glancing one last time at the sign.
As she stepped back into her now-heated car, rolling down the windows, and gazing out ahead at the lengthy road, Pauling pinched her lips as she considered her options and tapped her wheel. She couldn't think of anyone else who might help her with this kind of… situation.
She briefly heard the Administrator speaking about the old mercenaries, the classic ones, and the ones that came before her and her mercenaries, but she wasn't sure if they were dead or out of commission. They were likely old, too, considering they were in their prime in the 30s.
Her mercenaries were who she considered the best of the best, even when they were more than a little ridiculous and a laughing stock. So, getting other mercenaries' help would mean hiring them by the dozens, and she can't afford to do that, she wouldn't have any way of bringing them to her location either. Not on time, at least.
Which left Saxton Hale's company.
Charily, she picked up her phone, as if it were about to bite her. She stared at the phone for a minute or so before she entered the numbers slowly, her thumb hovering just above the call button. If he didn't answer, she wouldn't call him again or return his call.
There was the beep of the call button, then ringing.
Only a second went by when she heard a faint click, and she blinked, surprised at the speed.
"It's you." With a subtle Boston accent, a voice breathed in relieved surprise. "You're a hard woman to reach, you know that? We've been trying for the better part of the day to get into contact with you."
She was suddenly regretting this.
"I apologise, I was out of commission, and I…" she swept the loose strands of her hair back, trying to control the shaking that snuck into her fingers. "What do you need me for?"
"It was that creature, right?"
She straightened, abruptly breathless. "What—how do you know that? How do you know about that?"
"We've been dealing with the same problems as well here. A… a monster? Creature? I'm not sure, but we were attacked suddenly when we were in a meeting with someone. It was…" The voice on the other end shuddered a sigh through his nose and cleared his throat. "Mr. Hale and I escaped. Or, I suppose, the man let us escape. Either way, we… we left. We've been trying to get help, and, well, we were hoping to hire your mercenaries."
She soaked in the words, nothing reaching her ears at just the sheer… urgency of it all.
Saxton Hale's company was attacked, and so were her mercenaries.
This wasn't some pure coincidence, this was… this was planned. Someone had planned this out, and attacked all of them all at once.
'The man let us escape.' Those words rang in her head.
"Before… before I let you use the mercenaries, tell me about that man. What do you mean, he let you escape?" She needed to know more.
"I need confirmation that you'll let us hire them."
Pauling paused.
"I'm guessing Jerry flew you two away?" She asked instead.
"Yes." Came his simple reply.
"We'll meet in person. I'm 300 miles from the nearest motel to the town. You'll see me stopped near a post sign." Pauling answered him.
"Will you run?"
"No." She couldn't, anyway. Not when she was in the middle of nowhere and her car was the only black object for miles.
There was silence before she heard a muffled conversation in the background, followed by a faint whirr that she hadn't heard on the phone but assumed belonged to the plane Jerry was piloting. Minutes passed, and she recognised the occasional boisterous voice as Saxton Hale's. She overheard a conversation before silence returned.
"We're coming to pick you up."
She felt every tense muscle in her body relax and leaned back in her seat. "Good, that's… good. Okay… now, tell me everything about that man." She straightened herself and demanded an answer.
There was a deep breath at the end of the phone, before a hesitancy, a Boston accent seeping into his tone, followed it. "We made a deal with the wrong man."
"What…?" Pauling muttered questioningly.
She knew Mr. Hale had the tendency to be impulsive, but he wouldn't do anything that would jeopardise Mann Co. It wasn't like him.
Despite him coming off as a boisterous maniac—which he was—he was also a smart man who knew how to bend the rules to his will.
She knew about the rule that was placed in his company because of pressure from higher ups because of his monopoly over the weapons industry, that rule being that someone could take over the company if they fought him in a physical battle.
People have tried to fight him, of course, jackasses who had too much of a stick up their asses only to wound up with an actual stick up their ass.
But there was never anyone who could actually win in a fight with him. He and everyone else knew this, and the two reasons the rules were in place were because, of course, he wanted a good fight. But it was also because he knew no one could win a physical fight with him.
So for him to make a deal with the wrong man? Especially with intelligent people like Ruddy and Bidwell by his side? It spelled trouble.
"Have you ever heard of a person named 'Grey Mann'?" He abruptly asked.
Pauling furrowed her brows, and she looked at the roof of her car in thought. The name sounded eerily similar to Blutarch and Redmond, though without any pun added to the name. Mann wasn't a rare name, but it wasn't all that common either.
"I'll take it you've never heard of him, either?"
"Explain."
"There was this man who came in six years ago for a meeting with Mr. Hale, called himself the founder and chief executive officer of 'Gray Gravel Company.' Never heard of the place so of course we did some digging, and there was nothing on the man that alluded to anything suspicious." The voice on the other end sighed once more, papers flipping in the background and a whirring sound she hadn't noticed before.
Brief silence followed, as if waiting for her to say more, and when she didn't, he continued.
"He struck up a simple deal, stating that he only wanted to buy a few resources off us. We didn't think anything of it at the time, and we sold him some of our items. A few months later, he came by and asked for a contract. The deal was that we get money, and he gets those said resources."
Pauling didn't like where he was getting at, and she tensed, her free hand tapping her leg pensively.
"Again, the resources were so insignificant to us that we didn't care. The contract would last for about ten years; we sell him the resources, and he gives us money. That was all our interaction was. Of course, we didn't think to dig deeper and inquire about why he wanted those resources. We should've."
"Get to the point." She demanded.
Pauling didn't want this to be dragged out anymore than it already was.
"We sold him silicone. Silicone gel, to be exact."
"Silicone…" Miss Pauling murmured.
Silicone.
Silicone gel.
She pulled her hair back, and her eyes widened in realisation.
Melting monsters. Monsters that melt.
Of all things she could've expected, out of every single possibility for those monsters' existence and how they even came to be. Wax, water, some divine punishment, hells' monster, just the monster itself preexisting and fusing with human biology, or the BLU team being at fault for this, or whatever she previously thought, it was silicone gel. It made as much sense as it didn't.
She knew those monsters weren't made entirely of silicone gel; if they were, the desert heat would've killed it long ago. If not, Demoman, Engineer, and even BLU Medic would've figured it out and known how to deal with the monsters, especially given Demoman's keen chemistry intelligence and Engineer's bioengineering degree.
If one of her mercs—Engineer and Medic in particular—had been experimenting and created something akin to that bread tumour monster, it would've been simpler to handle. If Merasmus had cursed the team earlier this year, or if the creature was actually some kind of freak of nature, that would've been a much better outcome.
But of all things that could've been its main source, it was silicone gel and a man with an agenda.
She felt like laughing.
"Y'know, Brazilian butt lifts, breast implants-"
"I get it." Without meaning to, she curtly cut him off and rubbed the bridge of her nose, exasperated. "Why was your company producing silicone gel?"
"Is that important to our conversation?" He questioned, and she could hear the eyebrow lift in his voice.
"No." She guessed not.
"Can I ask you a question now?"
Pauling's lips pulled into a frown, hesitant as she inquired. "About?"
"Why did you want us to pick you up?" He questioned, tone edging on interrogating. "Knowing you, there's never one side to things."
Even if he spoke carefully, with a professional lilt, he was wary enough to know her words and actions always had double meaning. She liked that about him. He looked plain enough that people would overlook him, and he was clever to know when to call someone out on their lies, but still professional enough to stay quiet when needed. If the Administrator let her hire more people, she would've hired him as another assistant.
"I was going to Teufort town." Pauling explained.
"You think something will be there?"
The words slipped from her mouth before she could stop herself. "The bigger monster wouldn't be big without a reason."
"Bigger monster?" He parroted incredulously. "What do you mean by bigger monster? What do you mean there's a bigger monster?"
Crap.
She can't tell him about the fact that there were only half of her mercenaries alive in case he tried to turn around and broker off their deal. It was surprising he even told her anything when all she had to promise was her presence. Either he wasn't as smart as she thought—which she knew wasn't true—or he was that desperate for assistance, which was likely the latter.
"A bigger monster attacked the team, and I originally assumed the monster might've originated from that town. It was…"
She could hear the power of their screams even through a silent monitor, how they yelled and their faces were twisted into wide grins or sobbing expressions. Hands twitched from the thing, arms and legs jerking. It was too large to comprehend how many people were in there, how many of them were stuck. Alive and unable to move.
"Incomprehensible."
"Are there any mercenaries still alive?" He questioned, unaware of what she was thinking of.
"Yes, there are. They're still alive." She said, and before he could interject with another question, she continued, voice trailing off into a noteworthy mutter. "But now with this new information that Grey Mann had something to do with this, I'm assuming he released them when he was meeting with you. Maybe poisoned the water and it travelled to 2fort."
The large monster was most likely long in the making, especially given how much time it had to grow to its current size. Even with a small monitor, she couldn't believe how big it was, practically towering over the RED base.
"No, the monster couldn't've originated from there."
She furrowed her brows. "Why not?"
"Redmond and Blutarch were the patient 0s; they were the original monsters." He answered.
"What…? How? No, they couldn't have been; I spoke with Redmond and Blutarch's assistants, and they said they were fine! If they were the patient 0s, they would've–-I would've known first because they were paying us. The Administrator would've known. I would've—I personally spoke with them!"
"Miss Pauling, there isn't a… kinder way to say this, but… they've been dead for a year."
Her heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach, a kind of cold washing over her. Dead?
"Mister Bidwell-"
Bidwell barreled on as if he hadn't heard her, continuing despite the sudden shakiness in his own voice, despite Pauling wanting him to stop speaking.
"We were… we also assumed they were alive. Just our luck their assistants had told us they'd been dead and were forced into silence for a little over a year. Blackmail, death, whichever it was, they were silenced."
A deathly quiet followed.
"Whoever ya spoke with, it wasn't them." A pause before he echoed himself, haunted. "It wasn't them."
Pauling tightened her grip around the phone, despair weighing heavily over her heart.
"Miss Pauling, whoever Grey Mann is, he wants control. Absolute control." He spoke in a haunted manner, Pauling hearing clothing rustling. "I don't know what you'll find in Teufort. If there's anything left to find. At this point I doubt even a miracle will do anything."
At his words, everything clicked into place for Miss Pauling: why she hadn't gotten a call from the Mann brothers in the last 14 hours to inquire about the captured "intelligence," and why she hadn't gotten a call from the Administrator in the past 8 hours.
She thickly swallowed, her mouth drying up like cotton had been placed inside.
The Administrator went dark because she knew what had happened.
She never called her.
"Mr. Bidwell," she croaked. "I… we need to go to Teufort. There might be something, like a clue, or—or a lead on how we can get rid of these monsters."
"So you just wanna run in blind? We don't even know if there're any clues in Teufort. There's a high chance we're going to hit a dead end, and—"
"Do we have a choice?" She interrupted him by asking.
"I'm just saying this is a bad idea."
"Kennedy."
The use of Bidwell's first name caused him to fall silent, and she waited before continuing.
"You know the main reason I'm trying to go there." She admitted, the words bitter on her tongue. "You know why I want us to go."
Silence reigned.
Even if she refused to admit it by saying the words aloud. She was concerned about her mercenaries and needed to see them, at least the few that were still alive. She wanted to see them. But more importantly, she needed to see Jeremy.
"Pauling, I…" He fell into a low whisper, Pauling having to strain her ears to hear him clearly. "What if she's listening? My boss is next to me. I can't—I ain't allowed to—"
"His arm, Kennedy, it's missing." She spoke slowly, cautiously, like she was speaking to a wild animal.
She might as well have been considering who was on the other end of the call, considering who Bidwell was related to.
"His arm always gets ripped off on the job, you know that." Bidwell said, slightly laughing, although there was no humour in his voice.
"It's…" she paused. Finger twitching and drumming her steering wheel, terror laying thick in her chest. "It's inside the monster, Bidwell."
"So? He could just respawn, if not, the RED team's Medic, and it'll-"
"Bidwell, his arm is inside the monster. I don't spew nonsense."
His silence was enough of an answer for her.
"How fast can you get to my location?" She urgently demanded, both hands holding her brick phone as she swallowed once more, biting the inside of her cheek.
"An hour. Three hours at most, depending on how far up north you are." He answered instantly.
"I… we need your help."
She didn't have time to find herself regretting those words, couldn't help but want their help, even when she knew that she should never ask anyone for help.
It wasn't in her nature to want help, to need it.
But those words swirled in her mind.
It wasn't the assistants she spoke with.
Both Mann brothers had little reservations about swapping out assistants every few years, and while most of the smart assistants raised the issue of a security risk, they were unconcerned. Of course, like the fools they were, it did raise security concerns. A costly concern at that. And of course, Miss Pauling, like the fool she was, hadn't been as cautious as she should've been.
If she had simply kept tabs on them, checked in, and not underestimated them or trusted the words of their assistants only, this wouldn't have occurred.
She knew she had a problem with underestimating everyone around her, and she knew it would be costly if she didn't fix that issue of hers, especially after the BLU Soldier and the RED Demoman incident, but change was difficult and never came easily no matter how much she wished it would.
Now she was bearing the consequences.
Grey Mann wielded so much power in such little time that the Administrator hadn't realised until it was too late. He snuck in quietly, without anyone noticing, and took out all of them in one fell swoop, like—like a rat.
How influence did Grey Mann have over their company, and hadn't done anything until the right moment?
How long was he taunting them for?
Pauling wiped her face, hand resting on her chin as she leaned back and crossed her arms. The sun peered through the passenger window, slightly heating half of her side while she closed her eyes and bathed in the heat it provided.
Now that she had time to breathe, to think, without worrying about her bosses—admittedly. Mostly—empty threats about her work ethic. Her mind drifted back to the BLU's base.
It was huge, like a mall, and imposing both inside and out. But what truly stained her thoughts was just how grey it was.
How the grey plastered every wall, concealing the blue, and how the abrupt change surprised her; she voiced suspicions about the color, which were met with a simple: "the concrete is a sort of blue."
She remembered the dullness of it all, unlike Blutarch, who flaunted that too bright neon blue every chance he got, how the neons were practically drowned out by the dullness. The hallways cause a sense of vertigo, too long and large for a couple of men, and how she couldn't erase the thought of how it was like a maze for mice.
It wasn't because Blutarch had a sudden change of heart. Even she and the BLU mercenaries found that to be ridiculous. He was dead, gone and absorbed by the monster.
'Out of convenience,' she was told. 'To change things around to get an upper hand on Redmond.'
Bullshit.
He was taunting them.
All of them.
7 months.
That's how long he had waited until the right moment.
A chuckle escaped Pauling, low and giddy, desperate around the edges. She pulled her hair back, and leaned forward to place her forehead against the heated steering wheel, the sun beaming on her through her window. She couldn't feel it, though, all of her senses replaced by an icy chill.
The worst part was that she knew he couldn't have done it alone, because those monsters were too perfect in taking out each of her mercs, in accounting for their strengths. In accounting for their weakness.
It didn't help that at most, the mercenaries stayed for a few weeks to a month at each base, never staying more than the allotted time because of time restrictions and fear of them all being caught, or external factors.
The assistants, no, Grey Mann played the long con, telling her to increase time whenever she called, and she played along without any sort of suspicion because she, what? Found it less stressful having to move the mercenaries? Because of the amount of work she was given on the daily? Because it was easier to trust a well crafted lie? Because she underestimated everyone that easily?
He played her, used her weakness to his advantage, like the monsters had with her mercs.
She should've dug deeper, should've asked more questions, because now she couldn't help but ask: were one of the BLU mercenaries working with Grey Mann?
Large base, hiding things from her, Medic not wanting to be a clone, Scout's overall behaviour, how closed off they were. Just how different they were.
What were they hiding? How did they hide this from her? Why?
Pauling drummed her fingers on the wheel, glancing at the watch on her wrist as the minutes passed by.
One minute passed.
Then six.
Before, it was eventually fifteen.
But it felt like an eternity as time stretched.
It had been around 40 minutes since she last called them, and they had assured her it wouldn't take more than two hours to reach her location, due to them being nearby because of checking on their other company locations.
Pauling didn't regret asking Bidwell for help, he was trustworthy enough that he wouldn't abandon her for personal reasons, and she knew he wouldn't hold it against her even if they were from differing companies with the same amount of loyalty to their bosses. But what she regretted was asking for help from Mann CO.
It was practically a gamble asking for assistance from them, even if they asked for her help first. Saxton Hale was… incredibly characteristic. Pauling couldn't be sure if he would suddenly jeopardise her mission, if he suddenly wanted to wrestle her, or if he would be gung-ho when it came to the monsters.
Then again, Bidwell was with Saxton Hale. She trusted him to make him stay in line long enough for her to complete what she needed to do, before they noticed she tricked them and that they wouldn't be getting any help from her mercenaries.
Speaking of which…
She needed to figure out a way to trick them so they won't withdraw funds from the company.
She groaned and continued drumming her fingers, lost in thought. She wasn't sure how long she spent sitting in her car seat as time passed, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel with her head pressed against it.
Her watch ticked.
Then ticked.
Ticked.
And ticked.
Silently near her ears, its ticking was soft and almost mute. She planned, reorganized her thoughts, and figured out her next steps, lost in thought.
…Was there even a next step?
After she meets with her mercenaries to take into account who's still alive, she'll need to interrogate the BLU team. After that, she wasn't sure. The Administrator had gone dark, both of the Mann brothers were turned into those things, and now that she knew where the monsters came from and who had created them, or had a hand in creating them, she wasn't sure where to go from there.
Based on what she's determined so far and what the others have told her, Grey Mann had planned everything from the start and caught everyone off guard. Her, the Administrator, even Mann CO., and given the size of the BLU base, it wasn't difficult to guess that there was a traitor on the BLU team who poisoned the water in the town. However, she couldn't be sure until she can interrogate the few remaining ones.
Her primary suspect for being the traitor was BLU Medic.
Private and ruthless, who also had the most differences compared to the RED Medic. He also wanted her to create a fake identity for him and the rest of the BLU team. A large base, wanting fake identities, having insecurities over being a clone, and not to mention that blank expression that was difficult to decipher what he was thinking, even for her. He was good at hiding things, not as good as Demoman, but good enough that she could overlook him.
Her tapping had increased. His personality changed around a year after they were created, and he became more silent, less trigger happy compared to his original counterpart.
BLU Scout had a motive for the change. He couldn't get Miss Pauling and attacked her because of it. He only spiralled from there what she heard and saw through the monitors.
But BLU Medic, as far as she was aware, didn't.
When did he have time to go behind her back and work with Grey Mann? What's his motive? What's Grey Mann's motive? Why create abominations like those monsters? Why would he go through the effort of snaking his way inside all the companies?
Would she ever get an answer for that? Did it even matter now if she did get an answer?
There was an abrupt, monotonous drone of ringing, and she flinched, whipping her head to her phone, which lay abandoned by her side. It rang noisily, and she looked at the tiny screen, the number displayed on it unknown.
Hesitantly, she picked it up and answered.
There were a few moments of silence, with neither of them speaking, as she waited for the caller to respond. When nothing came, she was the first to break the uncomfortable silence.
"Hello?"
A familiar, smooth Texan voice came from the speaker.
"Good to hear from you again."
Her eyes expanded into discs.
Notes:
This is a bit shorter of a chapter, but it's probably the most lore filled one I've written.
This was supposed to be chapter 10, but then I got carried away with the other chapters and the plot started moving again, so I had to leave this festering for a bit in my google docs since it wouldn't have been good timing.
This sequence changed A LOT from the original idea. The original plan was to make RED Medic at fault for EVERYTHING, but that would've been too obvious and because I couldn't figure out a way around Sniper having Spy's gun, I couldn't go through with that plan.
The original draft I wrote for this chapter was that it was originally supposed to be Saxton Hale, Bidwell, and Pauling figuring out why the monsters exist, but then I changed it around because it would've been boring and predictable to blame everything on only Grey Mann, not to mention it would've been unnecessarily dragged on. Which is how I ended up with this chapter.
I was always going to make Saxton Hale and Bidwell a plot point, but I don't know why I never thought of introducing them as characters, this is going to help me in so many ways like you would not believe. Thank you Saxton Hale for existing, you glorious Australian!
(P.S. The majority [all of it besides the bridges] of this chapter were written before the 7th comic came out, so it's not exactly accurate to canon. BUT I CALLED IT BABY! HELEN WAS USING A FAKE NAME!)