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No. 466
Every repost is a repost repost. By Pandaa.

--

Another little oneshot written on a roadtrip, Scout-centric again. A lot of people write Sniper as a huge asshole, and I've never seen him quite like that, so here's a fic. c:

-------

He’d always kinda liked that hat.

Then again, Scout had always liked hats. Even as a tiny little scrap of a thing back in Boston, the Scout had stolen his older brother’s oversized caps and winter hats and football helmets, anything that’d fit on his tiny head, because hats just made everyone /cooler/. After going through many phases, Scout had settled on a good ol’ fashioned baseball cap, black and just plain badass. Even if it wasn’t backwards with funny little hairs sticking out of the hole, it looked fucking killer.

It wasn’t like it was the only other hat on the team, either. Engineer’s hardhat hid his geezer-ly balding head (yeah, he /shaved/ it, like Scout freakin’ believed that), but /that/ hat. Scout had liked it, ever since he’d first bounded through the door of the RED base to announce his arrival to anyone and everyone who cared. Sniper hadn’t been one of those, but he’d stood there with mild disapproval, tan leather hat cocked at an odd angle as he sipped his decaf and looked away.

As soon as Scout’s eyes landed on that hat, that fucking badass cowboy-looking thing of glory, he wanted it. And then, when he realized it was going to waste on some snotty Aussie? He knew he /needed/ it.

He’d just never had the chance to nab it.

Before now.

“Sniper? Hey Sniper, c’mon, man! It’s /go time! You hear those bullets, you hear that? That’s not just a fuckin’ lullaby for you – wake up!” Scout sneered at the dozing Sniper, hovering over him. The Australian was currently napping up in his attic-like room in a sagging hammock, surrounded by weaponry and dead to the world. It smelled like fucking /piss/ in here, why’d /he/ have to be the errand boy to go get Sniper? Like they even needed to fight! This battle was a joke, it wasn’t even a real battle. Most of the BLUs had held back to secure their base (their Medic had been wasted not a week ago) but a few more daring ones had gone on the attack for revenge. Probably just to fuck with the REDs, but whatever, Sniper needed to be there! Like fuck Scout was risking his ass unless everyone else was, too.

“Man, I know you’re faking. You think I haven’t faked sleepin’ before?! You’re talkin’ to the kid who missed the most days of school since—“ Scout stopped his irritated tirade mid-sentence, a little light popping on in his brain. He’d been staring at the sleeping Sniper for a while, trying to will him out of bed by jabbering his ear off, but he hadn’t /really/ been looking at him. That…that /hat/. He was wearing that hat! Pulled down over his eyes like a lazy little fucker and everything, what a waste.

…yeah! What a waste!

Suddenly grinning to himself, Scout wrenched off his headset and baseball cap, and quick as a flash, made the switch. His mic was kinda poking up Sniper’s nose, but forget that, the cowboy hat – it fit him just right! Even if it had been on Sniper’s fat head. Still beaming like a moron, Scout sarcastically thanked the Sniper with a little salute, dashing out the door and out into the fray. Wait till everyone saw him.

---

Sadly, there was no one to see Scout and his prize. The RED team had decided to push the BLUs and their sudden ambush back into their base, just to show the fuckers not to /mess/ with the /best/ (he assumed), so Scout was left alone in the yard amongst the rocks and grass and bugs. He was bored out of his skull; there was nothing to do, and he was totally alone.

Well, wait. Not /totally/ alone!

Scout stopped kicking the dirt suddenly, bandaged hand reaching up and carefully touching the leathery cap on his head. He could have fun by himself, fuck everyone else! They’d all crack the fuck /up/ when they saw how quick and clever he was to steal Sniper’s hat, and everyone’d agree it looked far better on him, anyways. It’d be awesome! For now, though, he had some business to take care of.

---

“Pow! Oh, that fucking hurt, you stupid Indian? Maybe you oughta run back on to your teepee, then, you red bastard!” Scout leapt out from behind a rock, unloaded pistol jerking back in “recoil” as he fired at the empty air. Crouching low, Scout dodged imaginary arrows, even offering a few muted ‘twang’ sound effects and some exaggerated gasps of his own. “What, you think that scares me?! Pow! Pow pow! Right in the back – yeah, you cowards, run away! You think you can mess with me?! I’ll take you all on, come on!”

Scout’s loud voice echoed around the rocks, all the more confirming that he was playing with utterly no one at all, but he could have cared less. There was an Indian ambush, and he couldn’t find his horse! These damn Indians had his girlfriend all tied up and they were gonna /scalp/ her, he had to save her, or her father (the Mayor of the little Western town) would never forgive him. Back pressed tight to a boulder, Scout pulled the brim of Sniper’s hat low over his eyes and smirked, pistol raised. They wouldn’t get away with this.

“Pow! Pow pow pow pow—pow?”


Scout stopped abruptly, his sweeping of the landscape with imaginary bullets halting. Sniper was striding towards him at a horrible speed, a look of hatred and death behind those yellowed shades. It was enough to make Scout swallow nervously, mind racing – when had he woken up?! Aw man, he didn’t wanna get his ass kicked, it was just a hat! Unthinkingly, Scout whipped out his unloaded pistol and forced a joking grin for mercy, pretending to shoot at the man with a small “Pow-“

CRACK.

A mangled scream cut through the air, startling Scout so much that he yelled and fell on his rear, gun clattering away. Fuck, what the fuck was that?! It…it had been loaded? Since when had the gun been loaded?! Oh, oh man, he’d shot his own team’s Sniper in the fucking neck, everyone was gonna be so pissed! But wait – did Sniper own more than one cowboy hat? Why was /he/ wearing one, too?

As soon as realization dawned upon him, the dying Spy shuddered back into his grayish blue suit, though stained now with enough red blood to be a convincing ally. Now it was clearer, the Scout’s scattergun bullets sunken right into the Frenchman’s neck – that couldn’t have felt too good. Still shaken, Scout stood up, scratching his head from beneath his hat – only to be startled again by a loud noise.

This time, laughter. Lots of it.

“Thanks for takin’ care of the Spy, laddie! We wer’ chasin’ him all the way here! Tell me thoh’, was it his neck you wer’ aimin’ at? Or his headdress?” The Demoman had jogged around the corner, laughing his full, harsh laugh as he cracked open a celebratory whiskey bottle. He was followed closely by the returning REDs from all directions. Scout’s mouth was open in alarm, eyes darting around – shit, how many of them saw?!

“Ve all saw.” Medic answered flatly, a stoic mind-reader as always. “Aren’t you a little - /old/ for pretend, boy? I understand ze tolls of var, but really…”

Scout’s face had flared up to a nice deep red by now, the teenager ripping off his cowboy hat in embarrassed alarm.
“I – I wasn’t doing it for real! Shut the fuck up! I was leading him on, you freakin’ dumbasses! Haven’t you ever hearda acting?!” Most of the teammates ignored Scout’s pride-saving pleas, laughing with both amusement at the pathetic display and elation at their victory. As the majority moved inside (Heavy first patting Scout on the head, crushing his hat and nearly his spine), Scout swore under his breath and crumpled the damned leather hat, scowling. He woulda made a fucking /awesome/ cowboy. Those jerks didn’t even /know/.

About to head back inside and sulk around till everyone forgot his embarrassing display, a broad hand came down on Scout’s shoulder; it wasn’t dislocated, though, so it wasn’t the Heavy. Unthinkingly, Scout turned, only to have his nose pinched and twisted sharply. While Scout yelped and pawed at his face, the RED Sniper wordlessly grabbed his (somewhat wrinkled) hat back, forcing it down onto his own head and staring down at the other, unamused.

“Mate, if you wanna play Cowboys and Indians, go back home to mummy.” Sniper said tiredly, stretching in just-woken sleepiness as Scout muttered and held his stinging nose. After adjusting his hat, the Australian walked off back towards the base, but stopped a few feet short.

“Ya know…Ain’t played that since I was a little thing. It’ll burn off some stress, yeah? But don’t steal my bloody hat again, and maybe next time I’ll join ya. /If/ you don’t tell no one.” Smirk not revealing whether he were mocking Scout or not, the Sniper wordlessly turned to go inside to the celebrations, leaving Scout alone and dumbfounded.

Scout stared after him, face twisted in confusion and shock, and his damn nose still smarting. The look continued all the way until Sniper had disappeared behind closed doors, the precious cowboy hat gone with him.

Finally, after a few baffled seconds, the boy just grinned. Fuckin’ weird. Maybe he would.
Marked for deletion (old)
>> No. 1014
Utterly adorable.
>> No. 1018
I'm not fond of the whole Sniper = asshole thing either. I thought this really captured his character well.


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