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No. 1200
A story based off of the songs "Fallen" and "Mary" by Sarah McLachlan with more inspiration from Tsurumaru.

We've been role playin' these characters for a while so we decided to give them names.

Adrian - RED Spy
Jack - BLU Engineer
Vince - BLU Scout
Iggy - BLU Pyro

Mary - Jack's (dead) wife
Levi - some random guy who owns a hardware shop in Bee Cave


“It's always hard to lose someone ya love. There's really no way to ease that pain. Believe me. I know. I've tried. Years ago, before I came to this god-forsaken war, I lived a rather simple life. I was married to my soul mate 'n things couldn't have been any better. Mary just got me. I didn't have to explain the odd contraptions in the shed 'n more than half the time, she'd actually come 'n help tinker with 'em. Too bad that was a dream that was meant to only end up in shambles.

“One fated afternoon, the two of us decided to go swimmin'. The water was never very deep. Maybe a foot above our heads or so if we ever decided to actually touch the ground. But it bein' a man-made lake, the water was quite murky and precautions had to be taken. Unfortunately, Mary 'n myself got too caught up in the moment 'n she surfaced too quickly right under our dock. Busted her head right open, knockin' her cold. I can swim, but I ain't no Olympian. Mary was dead before I could even get her back to the house. I boarded myself up in the house after her funeral – which consisted of me makin' her a coffin 'n buryin' her under the tree she always admired so much – 'n got lost in my work. Everything else was sorta a blur from there until I found myself surrounded by gunshots and blood. I don't quite remember how I got tangled up in the war. Perhaps it was that flier in Levi's tool shop. Yeah, that was probably it. Said somethin' about needin' a few good men … 'n I had nothin' to lose.

“I made quick friends with most of the personnel of the Builders' League 'n with each passin' day found myself thinkin' less 'n less of Mary, until she was just a ghost of the past that barely even lingered in my dreams. I'd like to think she was happy fer me 'n that was why I was beginnin' to ferget. Maybe it was the hand of God or somethin' like that that actually brought me to this hell-hole. Either way, the war made me ferget. But if I'd of known then that the scars that I would soon obtain would run so much deeper than those that were caused when my dear Mary died … I'd of stayed boarded up.

“They say that love can take many forms. On any other given day, I probably would have just laughed in their faces. They didn't know what I had just come from 'n after a few years, I felt myself become numb to almost everything around me. I awoke in the mornings, built my machines, watched idly as they tore into the flesh of my opponents 'n destroyed them when the cease fire was called. Day in … day out. It didn't phase me. 'Course, at said time, that was the only distraction from life I had. I was an empty shell – a killin' machine intent on takin' the lives of those who opposed the Builders' League. While I'll admit I never actually killed anyone, there is plenty of blood on my hands. The Reliable Excavation 'n Demolitionists were quite the formidable team. Some of them were a bit psychotic 'n down right not all upstairs, but by this point, honestly who was? But I noticed somethin' very quickly. Most of the Excavationists would avoid me … they would stay as far out of my guns' paths as they could. Their /spy/, however, would not. It almost seemed as if he went out of his way to find me 'n bring my constructs to pieces; an observation that down-right got on my last nerve. I began to play back with the European bastard through trial 'n error, often times returnin' to my room to treat wounds from his balisong 'n each day returnin' with more enthusiasm to catch the sonovagun. 'N it only seemed the more I tried, the more he did … down until the night I caught him down in my workshop. That's a night I'll never ferget. What had started as a simple game of cat 'n' mouse ended in a night of passion that had both of us reelin' in feelin's we never thought possible. 'N as much as I say it was a terrible tragedy, I wouldn't take back a single moment … “


“I am going to steal you away … take you back 'ome with me when zis 'orrible war ees ovar.”

Jack merely rolled his eyes, tightening his hold on the French man in his arms. “You say that every night. 'When this … ' 'n 'When that … ' It's alotta ifs to be bankin' on, y'know?” The Texan gave a sigh, closing his eyes and laying back. “'Sides, we'll have to make it outta here first. Heaven only knows how much hell will be dropped upon us if anyone ever found out.”

Adrian looked up, raising a brow under his unruly black hair. He knew the risks of their engagements, but it never seemed to deter him. It was almost like clock-work when the RED spy would find his way into the BLU's base, slipping undetected down into the engineer's workshop. The first few times, it had near about given Jack a heart attack. Now, it was second nature. No longer did he jump or get flustered at the sound of the uncloaking male or stop working to look at his lover in such cases. The European had voiced his opinions on the matter several times, accusing Jack of becoming bored with him and threatening to leave for extended periods of time. Every argument as such ended up with both of them apologizing and another of the Texan's blueprints next to ruined. He didn't want to admit it, but there was something about that damned spy that made him feel … normal. No longer was he filled with that hollow, dead feeling. It honestly frightened him how with each passing day, it just grew stronger and stronger.

Jack was lost in his thoughts as Adrian pulled himself away, gathering his red suit and slipping it over his thin frame. “Ees zere evar a moment when you are /not/ thinking?” The French man adjusted his tie, walking over to the other and stealing his lips in a kiss. “Je taimé.” It had happened enough times that Adrian no longer lingered to see if the Texan would respond. The door opened and closed almost silently before Jack could even really gather his thoughts into the current moment. He felt bad for never returning such a simple phrase. Adrian had made so many pet names for him … and yet he remained stubborn, intent on making sure that this wasn't just some mislead feeling that his brain was conjuring to help him cope with the horrors he faced day to day. Though, if that was it … then why did his insides always twist in such a painful way with each day that passed that he couldn't formulate three simple syllables? He curled up in the sheets, cocooning himself as he waited for the darkness to take him over until the sirens began up again, his face buried and taking in that intoxication aroma that always lingered once Adrian left. Always so subtle and never overwhelming – a strange mixture of Chanel No. 5 and cigarettes.


His nights had become more and more restless, each dream growing more and more vivid until he woke up in a cold sweat, panting and looking panic-struck around the room. A light hand on his shoulder calmed him down. “Jack. Lay back down. Eet was only a dream.”

Jack grumbled, the scene playing before his mind once again as he slowly edged himself back under the sheets. His arms wrapped possessively around Adrian, drawing him close in what could have easily have been described as a vice grip. “It's all gonna end soon. I can feel it. We'll be outta here and on our way to bigger and better things.” Though, he wasn't sure exactly /who/ he was trying to convince. The European only smiled, snuggling himself to his lover's barrel chest and closing his eyes once again.

“Oui, mon amour. And we will be able to forget zis whole ordeal … “ His accent was laced with sleep and soon Jack was left awake by himself once again. He looked at the man in his arms, that guilty feeling arising once again. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

He wasn't quite sure when he fell back asleep but as the sirens went off, he found himself alone in his room once again. As he rolled over, he heard a piece of paper crinkle under his head. With a light groan, he groped for it, holding it inches from his face as he read: “Today is a new day, my love. I feel the end is but around the corner. ~♥~ A” Jack smiled, tucking the note under his pillow before rolling from the bed and beginning his morning ritual.

The day went off without a hitch. Both sides were at a stalemate and it seemed that they would be calling the cease fire soon. He had destroyed his constructs, salvaging what pieces he could for later reuse as that familiar hissing came from behind him. He felt Adrian's weight on his back, that oh so familiar scent rolling into his nostrils as he looked down at the red clad arms that hung lamely over his shoulders. “Yer takin' a huge risk, y'know.” But the other only smirked, blowing a puff of smoke that wrapped around the two of them.

“There ees no risk too great for you, mon amour.” Jack felt his lover's chin rest on his shoulder; warm cheek pressing against his own and for a moment he was in a complete state of bliss. However, it was not to last He wasn't quite sure what had happened as the shot echoed through the mall area, the sound of the revolver ringing in his ears followed by a bone chilling chuckle from an unseen source.

The body that was resting against him tensed and a sickening warmth seeped through the back of his overalls. “Adrian … ?” The arms that had momentarily tightened around his shoulders went slack and Jack quickly turned to catch the wounded man. With such accuracy, he would have sworn the bullet came from their sniper, but the sound wasn't that of a rifle … by any means. “J-just hang in there!”

A pathetic hand reached forward, just as Jack turned to called for the Medic. “You cannot do that, mon amour. Leave me.”

But the Texan just shook his head. “Like hell!” As much as he knew Adrian was right, panic was quickly sweeping over him and he knew the outcome of this. He knelt, gently laying the French man on the ground before finding the balisong and using the man's jacket and tie as a sort of clot; though it didn't help in the long run.

Jack held him, talking to him softly as the sun went down. He spoke of France and of plans they had half-ass made. He spoke of their first time … their second … every squabble, every make-up … He laughed as he fought back the tears that were threatening to pool in his goggles. Oh how he knew what was coming with each passing second and the other's weakening heart beat. With a hidden burst of strength, Adrian reached up, grasping his lover's goggles and pulling them around his neck. Despite his pain, there was a smile on his face and Jack could no longer hold back his tears. They rolled freely down his cheeks as Adrian opened his mouth to speak. “She's come for me.”

This only made the southerner cling on tighter to the quickly laming body in his arms. “No … No! You can't go! Please! Adrian, don't leave me! I … I love you!”

“Funny … eet takes me dying for you to say such a thing.” The spy gave a slight chuckle, his smile turning into a wince from the effort it took, but quickly melding back. “I always knew you did. I will say 'allo … to 'er for you.” The sound that came from Jack's throat could have only of been described as something a dying animal would have made. There was nothing else he could say. He held on to his lover's dead body until the sun rose.

He almost looked dead himself, barely breathing as he took in the lingering scent of that intoxicating cologne intermingled with the scent of blood and cigarette smoke, hunched over and feeling numb once again. He wasn't even aware of the others until blue-gloved hands were prying the blood soaked, suited man from his arms. He swung, attempting to lay a punch on whatever and whoever he could, but a sharp prick to his arm and a pain to the back of his head very quickly sent him spiraling back into darkness.


“They didn't talk to me much after that incident. Vince tried, but the Doc was insistent that I be confined to my workshop until I was given leave. I was labeled a traitor by the people I trusted most all because I fell in love with the wrong person. It's funny how things work like that; how quickly you become expendable. I was let out of my shop for meals only, 'n even then, I sat alone. I could tell that Iggy 'n Vince felt bad. They'd known from the start, but I'd never tell anyone that. They didn't deserve to be alienated as I was. They already were, in a sense.

“I did everything I could think of to earn their trust back, but nothin' was good enough. That damned German would have no two thoughts about it 'n I'm sure at some point, it crossed his mind to slip into my shop while I was asleep to put me outta my misery. Can't say I didn't blame him. I hoped for it a time or two, especially as the paranoia began to set in 'n I was hearin' Adrian uncloak at odd times durin' the day; smellin' his cologne 'n that sweet scent of cigarettes that drove me wild whenever he was around. 'Course, it was probably that fuckin' bastard who shot him … messin' with my head 'n only causin' to keep the flags up with the rest of the team.

“After a few months of confinement, the Doc finally decided to let me rejoin them on the battlefield, given a few conditions. I didn't last a week. I was sent back to Bee Cave on the next train 'n that has been where I've remained since. I boarded myself up again, wallowing in self-pity. Seems no one really understands what it's like to lose /everything/ you ever held dear. I can't reenlist in the military 'n no one wants to hire some old, washed up engineer who was dishonorably discharged. I'm at my rope's end 'n I have no where else to turn. S'not fair, but whoever said that life was was lyin' to ya. No matter. I've been workin' in the shed again 'n I have a feelin' I'll be seein' Adrian 'n Mary again /real/ soon … I can already smell his cologne … ”
Marked for deletion (old)
>> No. 1202
<3 Jack . D:
>> No. 1226
Names names names.
Goddamn it.
>> No. 1227

Yes ... and?

I'm not the first to do it.
>> No. 1228

Better go sage James, Bond and Frank stories too then.
>> No. 1229

Don't forget Nubs the Littlest Pyro!
>> No. 1230
I dunno, I just dont understand the logic sometimes. I must be stupid.
>> No. 1234
Well, regardless. People should be appreciating the writing instead of having a coronary over whether someone has decided to name the characters or not. Its just artistic liberty, is all.

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