The boy twisted violently, some primal instinct within him springing alive, demanding that he not die without a fight, at the very least. The massive Russian bear growled and jerked him back into place, nearly dislocating Scout’s left arm in the process. The boy gave a startled yelp in response, but was soon cut off by the unforgiving torrent of frigid water the Spy was pouring in his face.

After what seemed an eternity, the water stopped, the cloth ripped away from his face soon after. The boy gratefully gulped in a lungful or two of air, coughing and sputtering. His shirt was plastered to his thin chest, showing his ribs as he sucked in breath after laborious breath.

Spy tsk-tsked, examining a fancy gold pocket-watch attached to a chain. “Oh, please, boy… After all zhat big talk, I would ‘ave expected you to make it to at least thirty seconds.” Another one of those slimy, shit-eating smiles.

The BLU Scout couldn’t even muster the effort to offer one of his vain, snide remarks in return. All he could do was glare up at the older man, eyes smoldering with weak hatred, teeth chattering with the cold and dull fear as Heavy shackled him up once again.

Spy slowly raised one of his eyebrows, and replaced his pocket watch within the folds of his suit. “Zhat…” he began, taking another draw on his cigarette, “was just a taste of what can be expected if you do not talk. And also a warning. My threats are not to be taken lightly, you illiterate street rat.”
“I meant what I said. I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’,” Scout whimpered, voice cracking. He couldn’t help but dread whatever that psycho had planned next.

Spy snarled, and roughly grabbed the boy by his cheeks. “Zhis is not a GAME, you pig. You WILL tell me what I need to know, or—”
Suddenly, Scout jerked his head away, and snapped at Spy’s hand, biting down viciously on one finger. He hadn’t really meant to – it was mostly instinct. He was just SO determined to show that bastard to be careful where he put his hands – that there was some fight in him, yet.

Spy howled, jerked his hand back, and promptly backhanded Scout for such a show of insolence. “You DOG!” he snapped, trembling with shock and rage. It didn’t hurt him much – he still had his thick, leather gloves on, after all – but the AUDACITY of that little wretch to…

He sneered once again at the boy. “It’s time someone do somezhing about zhose deplorably crooked teeth of yours, boy. Engineer!” he snapped, removing his expensive, leather gloves and stashing them in his coat pocket. They were promptly replaced by thin, latex ones. “Zhe dentistry instruments, s’il vous plaît. Quickly, now.”

Scout’s stomach dropped. God, he hated the dentist. Always had. His teeth were really messed up for a reason. “Y…You touch me again and I’ll bite your fucking nuts off next – I mean it!”

“I’d like to see you try,” Spy chuckled mirthlessly, as the Engineer wrenched his jaws open. Paying no heed to Scout’s protests, he hooked an oral speculum in his mouth so that biting would no longer be an issue.

Scout growled and twisted, trying to work the thing out of his mouth, but Heavy was quick on the scene to hold him still once more.

“Light, please.”
Engineer, now standing from a slight distance shone the light into the Scout’s mouth so that Spy could see what he was doing.

Scout coughed forcefully into Spy’s face, glaring and trembling with fear.
Spy shot him an unimpressed look, donned a spare surgical mask, and snapped his fingers. “Pliers.”
Scout’s blood turned to ice as he watched the Engineer hand over a rusty, wicked looking pair. Shaking, he tried to twist away, but Heavy held his face rigidly in place.

Spy began poking around nonchalantly, an unimpressed expression on his face. Scout was watching him intently, eyes wide with unspeakable terror. Every time he felt the cold, harsh metal clank harmlessly against the hard enamel of his tooth, his entire body went taunt as a rope.

“Let’s see ‘ere…” Spy hummed idly, continuing to prod at the boy’s mouth. He was at a bit of a bind here. As much as would have liked to rid himself of the boy’s repulsive, crooked incisors, he didn’t want to risk making the boy’s already inarticulate mutterings even more difficult to understand. He didn’t want to finally get a confession out of the boy and be completely unable to understand a word the dolt was saying.

Suddenly, the man’s ice-blue eyes flashed. “Come closer with zhat light, Laborer.”
The Engineer shot Spy a quick glare of contempt, but inched closer so that he could see what he was doing.

Scout couldn’t see the shit-eating smile on Spy’s face, but the bastard’s eyes spoke volumes by themselves. “I see you ‘ave matured enough to develop wisdom teeth…” the man chuckled, prodding at one. “What luck. I hear zhey are zhe most painful to extract.”
Scout felt his breathing getting shaky and irregular. It was all he could do to not scream and beg for mercy. This was a nightmare. Unable to control himself, he began trembling once more. His wide eyes, glassy with unshed tears, were silently pleading for mercy.
The Spy just smiled at him from behind the paper mask.

“Last chance.”

Scout whimpered as he felt the pliers loosely grasp his bottom-right wisdom tooth. Shaking with absolute terror, he scrunched his eyes shut, and waited for the consequences of his decision.

Suddenly, Spy’s left hand was grasping the boy’s skull in an iron grip, and a foot planted itself in his chest for balance.

Then excruciating pain. Spy clamped down forcefully with the pliers and wrenched as hard as he could, disregarding the blood spurting out of the boy’s mouth. Scout howled and tried his best to wrench away, fighting as hard as he possibly could.

Scout was expecting pain, but not pain like THIS. And certainly not those horrid SOUNDS. Even over his shrill, panicked screaming, he could hear alarming popping and tearing sounds as the tooth was ripped away from bone and vital nerves. The taste of bitter copper was upon his tongue in no time at all, and sooner, still, Scout found himself choking on his own blood and spittle.

He was hyperventilating. His chains rattled as he tried to blindly claw his way out of this hellish torment. Anything to take his mind off of that pain. That horrible, blinding pain…

“HOLD HIM, you imbecile!” the Spy snapped. For some reason, he sounded so far away…

It was unreal. Scout had suffered through more broken bones, minor gunshot wounds, and blunt trauma than he could remember, both in his rough childhood and on the battlefield. None of them compared. This pain RADIATED. His entire jaw felt like it was made of red-hot iron, and any flesh around the tooth burned as if it was being disintegrated by hydrochloric acid. His cheek and tongue were numbed from the overwhelming sensation, and his head throbbed with a migraine that shook his brain loud enough to wake the heavens.

Suddenly, a sickening crack, and then a crunch. Scout gave a strangled, garbled shriek as he felt something sharp drive further into his gums. Spy gave an irritable huff. “Look what you made me do, you stupid boy.” He held up a bloody, broken mess of what could only be shattered remnants of the tooth he was pulling. “Now I’ll be ‘ere all day pulling out zhis infernal tooth bit by bit.” An annoyed smile. “I ‘ope you’re ‘appy.”

Scout couldn’t quite remember what happened right after that. The pain was too much – he’d probably passed out. All he knew was that moments after everything went black, he was ripped back to horrid consciousness by some putrid smell.

Spy grinned down at him, holding a handkerchief that seemed doused with something. “Sorry, boy, but I simply can’t allow you to escape into zhe luxuries of sleep. I’d be undoing all of my ‘ard work.” Scout’s eyes widened as he pulled out the pair of pliers again. “Now, where were we…”

Panic. “NOH!” the young man cried, voice loud and shrill with panic. “Nah ah-gin! Ah’wl tahlk!”
Spy paused and placed the pliers down. “… Pardon?”
More hysterical sobs as burning, salty tears streamed down Scout’s face. “Ah’wl tehwl ‘ou ANEHDIN’! N… Noh mohr, ‘M beggin ya…”

He’d done it. He’d betrayed his own fucking team when they were depending on him. All he had to do was keep his stupid mouth shut, and he couldn’t even do THAT right… He didn’t think he could show his face around them again. He was nothing but a screw-up and a punk.

There was a long, painful moment of silence filled only by Scout’s sobs and pitiful whimpers. The Engineer and Heavy looked up at Spy expectantly. Finally, he nodded, and the Engineer undid the device holding Scout’s trembling mouth open.

Spy was going through another fresh cigarette and putting back on his standard gloves as Engineer worked. After the mechanic was done, Spy decided to wait until Scout stopped sobbing before pressing his case. Seconds later, he decided it was taking far too long.

“Zhe location of our intelligence, boy. Do not make me ask again.”
Scout swallowed painfully, the taste of blood bitter on his tongue. “I…I don’t know all the… details…” the boy started unsteadily. “B…But… I heard them… uh…” A pause as he choked back another sob. “Mention some place… Cold… U…Up north. Think it’s some stupid fuckin’ European country or some sh—”

“Names, boy,” Spy sighed, voice obviously impatient.
“I-I’m g…gettin’ to that…” the boy whimpered. He furrowed his brow, staring down at the floor in earnest concentration. “Um… I… I think it was called… N… Norra Scocha or something…”
“Nova Scotia?” the Spy demanded.
“Somethin’ like that…”
Looking away, Spy took another long draw of his cigarette, and silently let the tendrils of smoke curl out of his nostrils. “… Interesting…”

There was another painful silence as Spy mused this over. The Engineer and Heavy were talking in hushed voices at the other end of the room, but about what, Scout couldn’t say. Finally, the boy cleared his throat nervously, and inquired in a cracked voice, “S…So, am I free to go now…?”

Spy bit back the incredulous laugh tickling the back of his throat. Better the boy not know. Not yet. “I’m afraid not.”
Scout shifted uncomfortably. “I told you what you wanted to know.”
“Oui. But allow me another question, s’il vous plaît.”
“No.”
“ZHAT was not a request,” Spy snapped irritably. “Now zhat we know where OUR intelligence is, you will tell us where YOURS is.”
Scout felt his blood freeze up again.

Anything but that…

“Sorry, man – I-I can’t answer that,” the Scout replied quickly. Too quickly.
Spy snarled and jammed his foot squarely into Scout’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. “Don’t insult my intelligence wizh such transparent lies, boy.”
“It… ain’t a lie,” Scout gasped out with an infuriating amount of resolution. He squared his shoulders stubbornly, and clenched his jaw. “Sorry, man – that’s all I know.”

He couldn’t help but think about his team. BLU had been on the run for weeks now with a series of devastating losses of land. The Intel grab was supposed to put them back on the map again – put a little more wind in their sails. If RED stormed in and recovered their Intel… Well, there would be casualties, sure, but BLU was likely to have decoded most, if not all, of the information already.

But if OUR Intel is stolen, Scout thought, his heartbeat escalating with panic, we’ll be worse off than before. RED’ll wipe us off of the friggin’ map.

Scout didn’t want to be in any more pain. But the thought of his entire team getting slaughtered – for real – just because he couldn’t stand the heat… No, that wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t going to pussy out again.

His eyes flickered up to glare at the Spy, the bold, smoldering fire alight in his eyes once more. Spy returned it with his falcon-like gaze.

“Honestly, boy,” he sighed, crouching so that he was eye-level with the little BLU wretch. He twirled his cigarette idly between his finger-tips, trying to maintain his patience. “I’ve already ‘ad you water-boarded and I’ve pulled out one of your deplorable teeth. Do you really want more?”

Scout was glaring off to the side now, so Spy pressed the cherry end of his cigarette to the pale flesh of Scout’s exposed neck. There was a slight hissing sound as the flesh blackened and blistered around it. Scout sucked in a tight breath, clenched his teeth together, and let out a weak whine of pain, but still refused to look at the man.

Spy growled dangerously and seized Scout by the collar, bringing him close to his snarling face. His breath was heavy with the scent of tobacco and Brandy. “What are you trying to ACHIEVE, you imbecile?! You WILL tell me what I desire to know, whether it takes hours, days, or weeks! Why do you resist?!”

When Scout didn’t reply, he drew out his beautiful revolver and bashed the boy on the skull with it, tarnishing its intricate designs with the dark, red stain of blood. Scout drooped, threatening to lose consciousness once more, but Spy seized him by the collar again and slammed him to the wall, growling like a feral animal. The chains rattled noisily with the sudden, violent motion.

“ANSWER ME.”
“I already told ya,” Scout mumbled dazedly. He tried to focus. “I… dunno nothin’. Ya wastin’ ya time, big guy.” It came out surprisingly easy, despite how thick and dry his tongue felt in his mouth.

Spy gave the little snot-nosed brat another firm back-hand, and stormed to his feet, pacing around in a barely-controlled rage. The Heavy and Engineer stared wordlessly as the man began neurotically drawing a fresh cigarette, lighting it up and barely taking a single draw before he tossed it away and pulled out another. As he did so, he hissed venomously, “I’m not finished with you YET, my boy. Oh, no. No, no… I’ve got many more tricks up my sleeve! Perhaps I’ll start ripping off the nails from your fingers and toes! Hmmm? Would you like zhat?!” he snapped.

Silence was all that met him. Spy was sure that nothing could be more annoying than the little delinquent's shrill, grating voice, but this deliberately defiant silence was much, much worse.

RED Soldier had made himself clear that Spy wasn’t supposed to utilize any interrogation methods that would kill the BLU Scout. At least not right away. He was supposed to get all information from him as quickly as possible, then kill the boy and dispose of all evidence once they investigated if the information was legitimate. But they needed the information first. And they needed it quickly.

There was no margin of error. Period.

But what was he supposed to do? He could sense the Scout was retreating back into a protective mental shell. It was very possible that he’d been tortured before with such tenacity. And it was clear that the boy had the stupid (though noble) idea that he was a hero by saving his teammates – as if there WERE any heroes in this game they played – as well as the idiotic thought that he would actually be let go if he stayed silent long enough. Unfortunately, he also seemed to recognize that he was too valuable to kill with his information. Or to psychologically scar past his limit, for that matter…

The man’s mind whirled frantically as he took in a deep draw and flicked another cigarette away. He’d never been under such restraints for interrogation before. He was used to terrorizing his victims with a slow and painful death until they begged for a merciful shot between the eyes and were willing to tell whatever they knew to receive it. And if they died before information was yielded… Well, there were always other men to “ask” instead.

But this Scout was the only one they could get their hands on – assisted by the RED Spy’s relationship with his mother. The only BLU mercenary they’d been able to get since the damned war had started. There was no room for error… No second chances if he made a miscalculation…

He continued on his fanatical ranting tirade, his threats getting increasingly sadistic as his own panic escalated. “OR, per’aps I could force-feed you your own filzhy waste! I could even get zhe Medic down ‘ere and—”
The Engineer suddenly pulled him aside as the boy winced at the threat. “Easy there, pardner,” he warned in a low, solemn voice. “You can’t bring the Doc into this. Soldier made sure to specify that.”
Spy jerked away from the Engineer’s grasp, and jabbed a thin, pointy finger into the man’s chest, hissing back, “And ‘e ALSO specified zhat I was to be zhe ONLY one to speak, and zhat YOU moronic commoners are not to get in my way!”
Engineer just shook his head. “It’s no use right now. We should try again tomo—”

Spy suddenly waved him off. “Shush, Laborer.” His brow was creased thoughtfully.
The Engineer snarled and was about to object to Spy’s offensive nickname, when he caught sight of the expression on the man’s face. He grudgingly stayed silent, if only to hurry this uncomfortable and highly unpleasant process to its end.

It was possible… Very possible that Spy had been going about this the wrong way!

Yes… His focus had been all wrong. His techniques were painful, to be sure, but would not serve as a continual physical, as well as psychological, reminder that would stay with the boy for the remainder of his life. Something that would hit him hard – something he’d be most certainly afraid of losing forever…

The answer came immediately.

There was a sudden relaxing of Spy’s posture that warranted an uneasy glance from Scout. Spy didn’t return it immediately, taking time to finally enjoy the smooth essence of his luxurious Dunhill Special Reserve cigarette. The panicked haze he’d momentarily gone through was over now; the information of the whereabouts of the BLU Intel was as good as his.

The slow, cobra-esque grin that split his face in two somehow made Engineer and Heavy feel just as anxious as the very Scout the grin was meant for.

“We all enjoy various activities…” Spy began vaguely, pausing for a moment to deftly blow out a ring of smoke.
Scout watched him warily, jaw set tight.
“Zhe Laborers, for example—”
A low growl from the Engineer. Again with that nickname.
“Zhey like to build zheir fancy little toys for me to destroy. Zhe ‘eavies like zheir big guns. Zhe Medics like… well… You know. I like getting my information and keeping a lucrative career in which it is my duty to simply stab anyone stupid enough to stand still. And you…”

The man poked Scout in the chest with deceptive – mocking, even – tenderness. His predator-like grin softened. “And you like to run.”

A pause as Scout tried to see where this was going. Spy continued softly, sounding everything like a father lulling his child to sleep with a bedtime story. “Like? No… You LOVE it. Don’t you? You love zhe wind in your ‘air, zhe feel of your feet slapping against ‘ard pavement, zhe burning in your legs, zhe rush of your ‘eartbeat, zhe sting of every exhilarating breath…”

Scout nodded unconsciously, eyes dreamy. He closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath, imagining it was from the fresh outdoors. He’d hardly been able to MOVE since his capture – much less have a good run. He missed it more than he missed NOT feeling like a drowned rat with a nail jammed into the inside of his jaw and a hammer beating on the side of his head.

WHACK.

Scout couldn’t hold back his pained cry as the drummer inside his skull beat at double-time. Spy stood, the barrel of his revolver coated with yet another thin layer of blood from the Scout’s forehead. His smile stayed professional and refined, even as his eyes burned with the insane glee that came with a knowing victory.

Everyone in the room flinched as Spy unexpectedly fired a round just a hair away from the boy’s thigh.

“What would you do if you could never run again?”

Captcha: RED peryste (anagram: tree spy). I could be grasping for straws, but I loled like a nut, anyhow. BACK TO SRS.

~~~

Scout’s heart skipped a beat, and he immediately drew his knees up to his chest. “H-Hey… Easy, now… I… I already told ya what I know!” When he saw that the Spy was calmly reloading his weapon and no longer paying him any sort of mind, he blurted, “O-Okay! So maybe I DO know something! But I still can’t tell you!”
“Oh, you’ll find zhat you most certainly can,” Spy muttered, clicking shut the chamber.
“No – you don’t understand!” Scout screamed, frantic voice going shrill. “You don’t know what they do to traitors over there, man! I CAN’T!!!”
Spy only raised one, dubious eyebrow.
Scout trembled, eyes darting over the floor, as if the answers to his dilemma were spelled out on the filthy, damp concrete.

Finally, there came a stifled sob. The boy lowered his head further, ashamed of crying for the second time in front of the grown, battle-hardened men before him.

Spy waited patiently.

“P…Please…” came the cracked whimper. “Please don’t make me tell… I… I just can’t…”
“You can, and you will.” Spy cocked his revolver meaningfully.
“NO! NO, no, no, no, no!” Scout cried, shrinking back in on himself. “Please… Please! I… I’ll never cause any trouble for you guys again! I’ll quit the war! I’ll drop off the face of the fuckin’ planet if you want me to – just don’t make me tell you! PLEASE!”

Spy gazed into the Scout’s eyes, expression as grim and hawk-like as ever. Although it was incredibly difficult for Scout, he stared back, eyes bloodshot and unsure.

Eventually, Spy lowered his gun and softened his gaze with a considerable amount of effort. “Boy, I really don’t want to do zhis,” he lied in a soothing voice. “I’m ‘ere for one zhing only: and zhat’s to get zhe information I desire. I’ll gladly let you go – I’ll even personally escort you to your new-found freedom and ensure your lovely mozzer you ‘ave not been ‘armed.”

His voice dipped into that gentle, father-like tone again. “But you ‘ave to tell me what I want to know first, Cameron.”

He paused. “Please.”

There was silence for several long moments. Scout opened his mouth, paused uneasily as he mulled over what he was about to say in his mind, chewed his lip, and took a deep, shaky breath.

“I-I… I really can’t tell you, but I—”

Spy didn’t even remember pulling the trigger. All he knew was that he was that one moment, he was patiently listening to the simpering little imbecile, and the next, he was scowling ferociously as he fired again and again into the boy’s kneecap, shattering it in a matter of seconds.

The pain shot through Scout’s leg like a bolt of lightning, every bullet sending his body into a convulsion of anguish. And, oh God, did he scream. He screamed as loud as he could manage so that everyone in the entire world could know the pain he was going through. The fear he felt, wondering what else these cruel bastards could put him through. And, most of all, that the one thing that mattered most to him was taken away forever.

Spy seized him while he was in the midst of writhing in his restraints, and squeezed his cheeks forcefully, making the dull ache pulsing within his mouth return at full force. “I don’t zhink zhat you were listening,” the infuriated Frenchman hissed, eyes blazing. He brought his face nose-to-nose with the terrified boy’s. “Now do you want to tell me where zhat Intel is, or do you want to go for two?!” He pressed the barrel of the gun to the boy’s other knee, finger hovering dangerously on the trigger.

Scout couldn’t seem to stop shaking. He convulsed more, eyes rolling into back of his head. It was too much – the pain, the stress, and God, Spy’s breath – he felt like he was choking… Couldn’t breathe…

Spy withdrew as the boy started gagging forcefully, but when nothing came, he resumed his position straddling the helpless teen on the ground. He shook Scout forcefully by the shoulders, growling as the boy’s eyes flickered and rolled back in their sockets yet again.

“TELL ME!” he screamed, shoving him against the wall.
“—I—”
“TELL ME!!!” Spy repeated, slamming those frail shoulders yet again over the cold stone.
“TELL ME, TELL ME, TELL M—”

“Iceland!” the boy choked out between his sobs and whimpers of pain. “Th… The Intel… It’s being held i…in… Iceland…”

Spy withdrew, allowing the boy a moment to control himself and speak in more than barely understandable blubbers. chest heaving, Scout continued, “Th… There’s this huge v…volcano… Off the south coast… Can’t remember what it’s called… Th…They have a base there… Only one entrance… and it’s crawlin’ with Engies and Heavies. That’s… That’s really all I know. Just… Just please… Don’t… No more…” Another sob, followed by violent coughing and a sickening retch.

Spy smirked. “Well done, boy,” he cooed mockingly, patting the trembling soul’s cheek. He stood, glancing back at his two visibly uncomfortable comrades. “You two ‘ave served your purpose – you may be excused. I’m charging you wiz zhe task of relaying zhe whereabouts of zhe RED and BLU Intel to Soldier on zhe way back to your quarters. Zhis has been an overwhelming success.”

Engineer exhaled, suddenly becoming aware that he’d been holding his breath. “So we’re done now? We can leave?”
“Yes. Goodbye.”
Engineer was already making a beeline towards the door, but Heavy stopped and glanced back at the masked villain. “You are not coming vit us?” he asked in his heavy Russian accent.
“No, unfortunately not. I ‘ave some matters to attend to in order to make sure our ‘ard work is not undone,” the Frenchman answered vaguely, spinning his cigarette between his fingertips. “But your duty is finished. You may take your leave.”

The heavy-set Russian man stared at Spy a moment longer, then shrugged and left along with his smaller, Texan counterpart.

Scout watched, trembling as the heavy steel door opened, flooding the dimly lit cellar with the blood red glow of the setting sun. The door swung shut, extinguishing the light all at once, and with it, Scout’s last hope of freedom.

~~~

Also, I think it's worth mentioning that I actually did some research on kneecapping, and apparently it's done at the BACK of the knee to sever some kinda nerve or something - idk. I wanted to try to fit that in to show, "Hey, I actually DID look this up," but I couldn't quite fit it into the story smoothly, so I'm going to call Artistic License on this one, and ask that you guys just assume that all the effects of a NORMAL kneecapping took place, even though it was executed differently.

And why is the Intel located in the middle of a huge, badass volcano? Author appeal. I mean, c'mon. They're kind of the shit. So, yeah.

Caution: Things get rated M up in this bitch. Skip this installment if that's not your cuppa, but I really don't know what you're doing here if it's not.

~~~

If there was one thing Spy loved, it would be the intoxicating feeling of power wrought from fear. His was a different sort, he knew. He wasn’t like that brute of a Russian bear or the psycho-patriotic Soldier; he couldn’t FORCE his victims to fear him by sheer brute strength or physical intimidation.

His was a creeping kind of fear – the one of a child afraid of the eerie shadows cast by what was supposed to be a comforting night-light. The chill that invariably creeps up one’s neck when they find themselves walking alone after dusk.

He thrived on this fear – uncertainty was what gave him power, and it never felt as sweet as when it came from someone who was so infuriatingly overconfident. Be it a filthy bushman too busy staring through his scope to survey his surroundings every-so-often, or a Heavy roaring with laughter as he slowly mowed down the ranks without noticing that his precious Medic was no longer with him.

Maybe that’s why, he told himself, that he found the terrified look in Scout’s eyes so intricately alluring.

The boy’s eyes followed him as the man drew forward. He was still shaking and sobbing, the shattered remains of what could have been called his knee still bleeding profusely.

Suddenly, Spy whipped his revolver out again, aiming the barrel directly at Scout’s face. The boy gasped, immediately shrinking in on himself. Spy smirked placing it back in his holster. “Are you afraid of me now, little Scout? And ‘ere I was, zhinking you were a big MAN…”
Scout averted his eyes to the ground, still shaking. “You… You shot me i…in the knee…” he muttered, feebly trying to justify himself.

Spy chuckled, lighting another cigarette. “Yes. Yes, I did. And do you know why?” He paused to blow a few smoke rings. “Because YOU disobeyed a direct order from me. And let me inform you right now zhat your short life will become VERY difficult should you continue to disobey.”

Something about the way Spy said that made Scout shift uncomfortably. “Hey… Wait. Didn’t you say you were going to let me go?”
“Yes, I did.” The smile widened into a terrifyingly mirthless grin. “But zhat was before you practically spat in my face and refused my offer, despite my kindness. What I said before zhat incident is now null and void.” At the expression of horror spreading through the boy’s features, he added, “Oh, don’t worry, you little ‘ooligan. If it makes you feel better, I never planned on keeping my promise, anyhow.”
“You… You bast—”

Spy flipped open his butterfly knife, eyes glinting. “Pardon?”
Scout lowered his eyes, immediately realizing his mistake. “N-No – I didn’t mean—”

And suddenly, the glinting blade was as the boy’s neck. “Are you STUPID, you pazhetic, bucktoothed mongrel?! I’m only going to tell you zhis ONCE: you belong to RED Co. now. More specifically, you belong to ME. I’ve been authorized to do anyzhing I can to make your life miserable, and, trust me, zhe more you whine like a stupid, pazhetic little GIRL, zhe more ideas I get. So I’d suggest you keep your mouth SHUT.”

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes, and he nodded meekly, ever mindful at the knife pressed against his throat. He bit his lip in order to hold back another sob.

Spy scoffed, and made a few quick, clean cuts in Scout’s undershirt, which was still cold and damp from the water-boarding. He hastily lifted Scout’s wounded leg (prompting a few painful screams), and fashioned a crude bandage around the knee. “Zhere. Zhat should ‘old you until I can be bozzered to ‘ire someone to maintain you.”
Scout whimpered. Maintain? What does he…

That’s when it hit him. Spy had meant everything he said completely literally. Scout was no longer a person. He was a thing now – a belonging in every sense of the word. He didn’t have a future. He didn’t have a family. Hell, he probably didn’t even have a name anymore. All he had now was a purpose – to serve and survive.

He was brought back from his grim realization by the sound of a zipper. A gloved hand yanked his chin up so that Scout’s eyes were level with the undone fly and lovely silk boxers.

“Mouth open. Time to test your resolve.”

It took a moment for Scout to understand exactly what Spy was asking of him. He blinked for a second, and the next moment, his eyes were wide with disbelief. “You… You’re into dudes?!”
“No, of course not – don’t be ridiculous,” Spy snapped back, obviously irritable and partially mortified by his own request. “And even if I WAS, I’d find someone like YOU about as desirable as a dead, ‘alf-rotted pig. ‘owever…”

He took a deep draw, then exhaled again, cigarette resting between his fingers as he clutched a fistful of the boy’s hair. His other hand pulled out his flaccid member and wiggled it slightly in front of Scout’s face.

“Zhis isn’t about desire. Zhis is about power.”
“N’ what if I bite you?” Scout growled softly, bristling despite himself.
“Do you honestly even want to know zhe answer to zhat question?”

Scout winced, and glanced back at the man’s member. It smelled clean, at least, and it was well groomed, but… It took all the boy’s will power to not start gagging all over again.

“I…” The boy’s voice wavered. “I can’t—”
Spy promptly drew his gun again and struck him on the forehead, just barely missing his temple. Scout gave a startled shriek as his brain pounded mercilessly against the inside of his skull.
“Okay! Okay…” Scout sniffled, lower lip quivering as he pleadingly looked up at the older man.

He took a deep breath, and swallowed back the bile tickling the back of his throat. He closed his eyes tightly, hesitantly extended his tongue, and enveloped as much he could of the flaccid cock in his mouth.

Spy gasped slightly, arching forward into the boy’s mouth. He’d been trapped in this God-forsaken base far too long – had he really almost forgotten the feeling of getting sucked off? Maybe not, but still, he hadn’t expected Scout’s mouth to feel quite so warm…

Scout felt his stomach turn as Spy let loose a soft, guttural moan and pulled his head closer. It hadn’t taken him long to get hard, and now Scout could even taste what he could only guess was… Oh, God… Was that… Precum?

He held back a gag, and glared up at Spy in bitter resentment, thankful that the man didn’t have his eyes open to see his expression. “Not interested in guys” my ass… Only a total fag would get off from this. Only a total fag would ask for me to DO this!

Suddenly, a feeling of defeat washed over him. What was he doing? He was sitting here sucking some fag off like a little fucking whore! He should have fought more – said something, bit, tore, fought tooth and nail until every bone in his body was broken… It was useless, he knew, but he should have fought. He should have fought because that was what a real man would have done.

A sob swelled in the boy’s chest. He wanted to go home. He’d had enough of trying to prove himself on the battle field or trying to be a “real” man – he wanted his mom, damn it. He wanted to be in HIS house, warm and wrapped up in a blanket and listening to the radio and eating soup his mom had made from scratch.

He wanted to sleep in his bed. He wanted to be reading HIS comic books. He wanted to hug every last one of his big brothers. He wanted to go outside and RUN.

Will I ever get to do any of that ever again…?

Scout was already on the cusp of breaking into hysteria, and Spy’s gentle prodding of, “Come on, boy… Take it all, now…” proved to be the straw that broke the camel’s back.

The boy spat out the throbbing cock with nothing short of disgust, and began wailing as loudly as he could. Spy was taken aback for half a second, then growled, shaking the boy’s shoulders. “What are you doing?! I didn’t say you could stop!” he snapped.
“I… WANT… MY… MOOOM!!!” Scout screamed at the top of his lungs.

Spy was infuriated. “Open your mouth!” he demanded.
“Mommeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Scout continued sobbing shamelessly.
Spy pressed his gun against the boy’s temple, enraged. “NOW!!!”

The boy’s quivering mouth opened hesitantly, as he continued to sob. Paying no heed to the annoying little bother, Spy plunged into the open orifice.

The reaction was instantaneous. Scout’s stomach heaved, and Spy managed to back away just half a second before the boy was bent forward, body shaking as he vomited violently and painfully. Before long, his entire front was covered with acrid, yellow bile.

There were some dry heaves and coughs at the end as Scout spat, trying to rid himself of the horrid taste, but he hardly had any time to regroup before Spy wrenched his head back by the hair, and plunged in again.

He face-fucked the boy soundly, driving himself in as deep as he could go without any concern of whether Scout could breathe or not or if he was in any pain. The boy did his best to keep up, still whimpering and sobbing and gasping for air whenever he was allowed time to breathe. There were more dry heaves, but he simply didn’t have anything left to expel. As soon as Spy caught on, he began ignoring them all together and simply pushed past them.

“Oh, merde…” Spy groaned hoarsely, starting to break out into a sweat. As he glanced down at the boy under his control, he suddenly became acutely aware of how much the frightened, tear-streaked face resembled that of his mother’s. Only Spy had made love to the boy’s mother. Scout now only existed for a cheap, brutal fuck.

An aroused growl emitted from Spy’s chest. This was his first time ever taking someone else without their express consent. He took pride in his ability to charm the ladies, and wouldn’t even take one home if he suspected she’d had too much to drink. He was a passionate, kind, and understanding lover – one that many women could only fantasize about.

How surprised he was to find there was a beast hiding inside him all this time. There was a feral, sadistic hunger that craved to push Scout past every limit – to break him in every sense of the word. Seeing him sitting there, chained up, broken, terrified, and utterly helpless… It was everything his hidden, twisted self had ever wanted.

He knew he’d be back for more.

There was a strangled cry from Scout as Spy pressed himself deep into the boy’s throat with a curse, releasing inside of him. Then, he hurriedly pulled out and came over Scout’s face and hair, wanting it to serve as a physical reminder to the boy as to whose he was.

Scout coughed and gagged, trying to force out the semen trapped inside of his throat. He didn’t want it inside him forever. God, he wanted to forget… But Spy clapped his gloved hand against the boy’s mouth and nose with a stern, “Swallow it. All of it.”
Scout whimpered, eyes welling up as he did what he was told. Spy removed his hand, and let the boy cough and gag some more, the salty, bitter taste on his tongue not leaving him.

After lighting up another cigarette, Spy left wordlessly, making sure to turn off the dim, pale light-bulb in the center of the lonely cellar.

Scout sobbed quietly, cold semen running into his eyes, his mouth sore and swelling, and his leg screaming in pain. He prayed to whatever God there might be left to forgive him of any sin he’d ever committed.

Then, he fervently prayed for death.

Sniper was up on stage, swaying unsteadily as he belted out the words to the song playing on the jukebox. “If I should call you up, invest a dime, and you say you belong to me, and ease my mind,” he croaked softly, as if knowing he SHOULD have been a lot more ashamed of what he was doing, even if he wasn’t. “Imagine how the world could be, so very fine, so happy togetheeer.”

Pyro cheered and clapped along gleefully with the tempo as Sniper’s singing grew to a crescendo at the chorus. It even began singing along in its muffled voice with him: “I can’t see me lovin’ nobody but you! For all my life! When you’re with me, baby the skies will be blue! For all my liiife!”

It was now ten days after Scout leaked the information of the RED Intel. Soldier had allowed his team a night celebration after RED’s successful recapture, and they sure as hell were going to use it. Now most of the team (excluding Soldier, who never went out of War-mode, and Spy, who’d become quite the recluse as of late) was jam-packed into the company-provided bar that was built inside of the base itself.

Demoman had provided the booze, Scout had provided the tunes, and everyone was having a great time. Well, all except one.

Engineer was huddled over in a dark corner near the back of the bar, clutching his drink as if it was the last beer on earth. He kneaded his brow, muttering softly that all the loud music and drunken sing-alongs were giving him a headache.

Heavy was sitting beside him, watching Sniper perform as his audience whooped and cheered and sang along. Then, he glanced back at his comrade. Engineer hadn’t quite been the same since Scout’s interrogation, he’d noticed. He seemed tense all the time – as if he were lost in troubling thoughts that plagued his mind constantly. He also disappeared in his workshop for hours at a time. He’d always done that before, but now it was getting to the point where he’d start missing meals.

Heavy had been hoping that this night out would help relax his friend, but he seemed even more distraught than before. It didn’t take much to figure out why.

“You are still thinking about BLU Scout,” the big man rumbled, eyeing Engineer carefully. It wasn’t a question.
Engineer paused, and nodded. “… Yeah. Guess I am,” he muttered back, fiddling with his bottle restlessly.
Heavy sighed. “You are good man. But there is no need for you to feel guilt for leetle Scout. Is our job.”

Engineer clenched his jaw. “You don’t gotta have morals t’know what happened back there was wrong n’ you know it. I’m far from a saint, boy, but… I ain’t never…” A shudder.
Heavy shrugged. “Spy just does job like we do. Is not bad.”
Engineer barked a laugh, prompting a startled look from Demo. “Please, Heavy, don’t even try t’defend that scum! Yeah, it was our job to get the locations of the Intel. But he could have stopped there.”

A scowl. “Heavy, I done seen it, alright? With my very own two eyes. I know EXACTLY what he’s been puttin’ that poor soul through, and it’s appalling. Hell, he has the nerve to even PAY me to clean up after his mess, which I do, because if I’M not the one to take care of ‘im, there ain’t a person in the world that WILL! And the damned sunnuva bitch KNOWS it, too!”

The stocky man slammed his fist on the countertop in a barely-contained fit of rage, then rubbed his temples, trying his best to calm down. Demoman sauntered up, scrumpy held tightly in his hand. “Oi, lad, wot’s goin’ on here? Ye alroit, Engineer?”
“Yeah, ‘m fine…” Engineer muttered, glaring at the wall.
Heavy patted his back and looked up at Demoman. “He is not happy. Thinks Spy should leave leetle Scout alone.”
Engineer just grunted, scowling.

RED Scout, getting a slight wind of the conversation, popped in unannounced, a sloppy grin painted all over his face. “Wut? We talkin’ about dat BLU, squealin’ faggit? Man, whadda loser, am I right? Man, if those BLU mudderfuckers captured me, I wouldn’ta told ‘em NOTHIN’. What a frickin’ pansy-ass!”

Engineer looked like he was about to retort (and maybe even throw some punches), when Demoman cut in and looped his arm drunkenly around Scout’s scrawny body. “Ach, listen to ye! Yeh don’t have the slightest idea of wut happened, an’ yet, here ye are, flappin yer gums like yer damn Superman!”

The bar rand out with applause as Sniper attempted to bow to his audience, but only succeeded in toppling over. Pyro helped him back to his seat, as everyone had a good laugh over it – including Sniper, himself.

Demoman jammed the flat end of his bottle into Scout’s skinny chest, grinning. “Anyways… Seems loik Snoipah’s dun wit ‘is caterwaulin’. How’s aboot we show ‘im how REAL men sing sappeh love songs?”
“YEAH!” Scout laughed, stumbling over to the stage with a mug of bubbly, amber liquid in his mug. Demo followed suit, taking a swig from the old Scrumpy bottle.

Heavy watched with more confusion than amusement as Scout fell over himself, spilling a great quantity of his drink, and exclaiming, “I’M SO DRUNK!”
He turned to Engineer. “I thought you replaced Scout’s drink with sparkling white grape juice.”
Engineer allowed himself a small smile at this. “I did.”
Little did they know that Demoman had been topping the boy off all night.

Engineer sighed and leaned back for a moment, and pretended for a moment that the forgotten reminded of the ugliest side of mankind currently chained up in the cellar simply did not exist. That he was enjoying a night of drinking with his friends and comrades and that he’d never seen the horrifying images that haunted his dreams.

He let himself believe, just for a moment, that things would go back to normal.

Music sprang from the jukebox and filled the tiny bar with a light, upbeat tune. Demoman went first with a slightly off-key, “Listen, baby! Ain’t no mountain high, ain’t no valley low, ain’t river wide enough, baby!”
Scout cut in with a blissful, high-pitched, “If ya need me call me! No matter where ya are! No matter how far!”
“Don’t worry baby!” Demo crooned.

Scout did a little jig in place, careful not to lose his balance and topple over, continuing, “Just call my name! I’ll be there in a hurry! Ya don’t have ta worry!”
Demo joined in, slinging an arm over Scout’s shoulder. “Cause, baby, there—”

The entire bar joined in, gleefully ignoring any call for tone quality or pitch or the right notes, or, hell, sometimes even the right words. “AIN’T NO MOUNTAIN HIGH ENOUGH! AIN’T NO VALLEY LOW ENOUGH! AIN’T NO RIVER WIDE ENOUGH! To keep me from getting to YOU, babe!”

Engineer was grinning. He was actually grinning for a split second as he saw Scout’s drunken, carefree smile. But the moment didn’t last long. He was immediately reminded of the beaten, broken, bloodied face of the boy’s counterpart, and he felt guilty for ever enjoying himself, even for a moment, while that poor boy was left alone, in unimaginable amounts of pain, and abandoned in the dark.

Heavy blinked and watched as the man wordlessly rose to his feet. “Engineer—”
A pause, then a tired, “Yeah?”
Heavy gave him a stern look. “Do not do anything stupid. BLU Scout is not our problem. Stay away – Spy vill get in trouble, not you.”

Engineer didn’t reply as he left the boisterous bar.

There wouldn’t be any time for pretending anymore. Things had changed, possibly for good, and he had work to do.

*************

Scout coughed feebly as the man towering over him gave a satisfied sigh and zipped up his trousers. Spy hummed and leaned casually against the wall and lit up another cigarette. He’d come down here for a celebration of his own.

The stupid boy had done well, he decided, blowing a few smoke rings. The least he could do was let him get off with just a simple blowjob for tonight. He could continue his various experiments later – besides, Scout had become quite good at giving head. Anything to avoid the alternative.

He flicked his cigarette away casually, and began making his way to the stairs again, not even throwing his living sex-toy a backwards glance.

“You’re… not going to kill me…?”

The soft, raspy voice made Spy stop in his tracks. This time, he did turn around and give Scout a searching stare.

He was barely the same person he’d interrogated just over a week ago. His entire body had atrophied, making his face much more gaunt and his ribs start to show. The color of his skin was now pale and slightly grayed, and there were dark, haggard circles under his eyes. His cheek was swollen from where Spy had attempted to pull his tooth, his lips were dry and cracked, and his hair was now a completely matted, tangled mess. It was even falling out in some places.

The most change, however, was seen in the boy’s eyes. They used to shine with a vivacious icy blue that just barely succeed in containing the energetic spirit bursting from within.

Now, they were a dull, grey color similar to that of an overcast day. They were tired. Defeated. The eyes of an old man on his death bed. And yet, there was a faint glimmer of hope as he awaited the answer to his inquiry.

That’s when Spy felt an odd whisper of an emotion flit through his chest. One he was quite sure he’d rid himself of many years ago.

Guilt.

He’d done this. Somehow, he’d broken the boy – demolished him from the ground up, made him truly fear and agonize for the first time, and had brought him to the point where death was seen as the only, merciful release.

There was a pause. He could still redeem himself. Grant the boy his wish, and give him a quick, merciful death. Maybe even provide Scout with a proper burial, and forget all the wretched deeds he’d had committed in this horrid chamber.

He mused over this for a moment.

“No. Sincerest apologies, but… I’m not allowed. Soldier orders me to keep you alive until he gives word otherwise. For tactical purposes, of course.”

It was all true. But he knew Scout knew the real reason. The dim flicker of hope vanished from within the boy’s eyes. Spy couldn’t remember anyone ever looking so forlorn.

“Oh. Oh…” he murmured gaze dropping to the grimy floor. “… Oh…”

Spy left, closing and bolting the door behind him, locking the boy in total darkness once more.

He wondered if there was any champagne left over at the party.

~~~~~~

Captcha: 1,870 Gropme. Welp.

Also, last one for tonight, guys. Gotta be up early tomorrow for CHURCH THINGS. Goodnight - I'll be back tomorrow, repostin' up a storm.

So I thought I was going to sleep, but my body was all, "lol no". Urgh. Tomorrow is going to be miserable - I can feel it. Welp, back to repostin.

~~~~~

The following morning, Engineer went to check up on Scout, as always. The boy didn’t even look at him as Engineer snapped on a pair of latex gloves and slid his hips on top of a bedpan. He pulled down the boy’s boxers with an awkward, muttered apology, and left the cellar to give the poor kid some privacy. He retrieved it after a short while, washed it out, gave Scout a quick, modest sponge bath, and left again to retrieve Scout’s breakfast.

The first few days were hard. Scout used to try to talk to him, then. He would sob and plead to be released. Try to appeal to the better side of Engineer’s nature. Would cling desperately to his every visit, would hail the man as a savior, and eventually even broke down to the point where he’d tearfully admit everything Spy was doing to him, unaware that Engineer already knew for the most part.

Engineer, though, never spoke. He acted as if he didn’t even listen. What else was he going to do? He couldn’t save the kid. Not now, not ever. Removing himself from the entire, ugly reality of what was happening was the only way to keep himself sane.

A smarter man wouldn’t have taken the job to play nurse for Scout in the first place. But Engineer would be damned if he ever trusted Spy to care enough for human life to treat his victim after his abhorrent encounters. It was just something that would never happen. Scout was his burden now.

Engineer poured some gruel into an empty bowl, brow furrowed in agitation. He couldn’t help remembering the last time Scout had spoken to him. It’d been after a few days of Engineer coming twice daily to clean and care for him.

The first few minutes went as always. Scout was painfully admitting what had transposed the night before, as if the bruises didn’t speak for themselves. Engineer was trying desperately to tune him out, when it happened.

“Ya dun efen care, do ya?”

Engineer wondered how silence could be so deafening. He’d only been able to stare at Scout, stunned at the soft, quivering accusation. Scout glared up into his eyes with his lip trembling and fresh tears streaming down his broken face.

“Why do ya efen come he’ah?”

There was no way to respond to that. Engineer couldn’t respond with something like, “Because Spy pays me to,” but what else would he say? He wanted to say something else like, “Because I DO care!” but if he really did, he would have stopped being so selfish and broken the kid out earlier.

There had been a long, awkward silence as Scout stared resolutely into Engineer’s eyes while the man opened and closed his mouth dumbly like a freshly caught bass. Eventually, Scout gave up and lowered his eyes to the floor again. End of conversation.

Engineer’s mind flickered back to present day. He stared down at the strange, warm, mushy mixture in his bowl as he made his way back to the cellar. Spy had been particularly specific when he told Engineer what to feed Scout.

“Rice and corn. You can grind them together while dry, then put them to boil. Or you can cook the rice and mash canned corn into it until you get a uniform consistency. It doesn’t matter which. It will be just enough to keep his body going, and his mind weak.”

He’d wanted to sprinkle a bit of salt into the mixture, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Spy could still be watching him. He had to play his cards right.

He was standing in front of Scout now, spoon in hand. He knelt by the silent captive’s side, and offered a bite of the gruel. To his surprise, Scout didn’t move. He didn’t even acknowledge the presence of food.

This made Engineer feel uncomfortable. He cleared his throat awkwardly and tried again to spoon-feed the boy, but Scout just looked away from it quietly.

Usually, Scout would be so hungry, he’d be wolfing the stuff down by then. Engineer panicked and began checking the boy’s forehead incase he had a fever, then checked his pulse and both of his main injuries. His mouth was still swelling up like crazy – maybe that could have been what it was? Somehow Engineer doubted it. He was sure Scout’s mouth had been hurting plenty for the last few days, but he’d still been eating fine.

A few uncomfortable minutes ticked by, Scout silently staring at the wall and Engineer nervously wringing his hands and hoping Scout would change his mind and eat. Eventually, he rose to his feet and began making his way back to the stairs, deeply troubled.

“Wait.”

Engineer stopped, shocked at the voice that should have been Scout’s but was indisputably not. It sounded like dead leaves being blown across pavement. He turned around. Scout was looking up at him. Eyes wide. Suddenly lucid. Pleading. Frightened and vulnerable.

“Dun leafe… Nah yet… Please…”

Engineer fumbled around, uncomfortable with the anxious silence. Finally, he settled for an, “I’ll… be back.” A pause. “Promise.”

He left regrettably, but quickly. He could feel Scout’s eyes on him all the way back to the door.

He couldn’t. Not yet. But he would be back. That afternoon, of course, for Scout’s second feeding, but that wasn’t what he meant.

Scout, not knowing the stocky older man had meant anything different, slumped against the wall, too exhausted to even cry anymore.

It didn’t take Engineer long to figure out something was wrong.

Scout was shivering with his head tilted downwards when the man had entered the next day. Not from terror. Not because he was crying. He’d never done that before.

Drawing closer, Engineer noticed that the boy’s lips and fingers were blue. He also seemed to be asleep. He never slept, really. It was damp, cold, and he was forced to be upright, sitting on ridged cement in an uncomfortable position all day. Sleep was hard to come by.

A surge of panic hit engineer. He felt the kid’s forehead, only to shudder at how cold and clammy his skin felt.

Engineer bit his lip, pausing for a second, then violently shook his head with a curse. “Oh, ta hell with this…” he muttered, retrieved the key stashed away in his pocket.

His hands were shaking as he undid the heavy chains binding the boy. Every breath became raspy and labored. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck. He wasn’t completely ready yet. But Scout couldn’t wait for it to be perfect. Something was wrong. He had to help now.

He caught the skinny, shriveled form in his arms, high-tailed it back to his room, and locked the door.

***********

Engineer could never thank RED Co. enough for providing each bedroom with a bathroom suite. A few quick sponge baths couldn’t fix a layer of dirt caked up all around the kid like a filthy exoskeleton. He had to get him clean – maybe then, the problem would be easier to fix. Cradling Scout in his arms as he sat on the edge of the tub, he began running the bath water.

Truth be told, out of all of his eleven PhDs, the medical sciences wasn’t one of them. Oh, sure – he’d started out in college, seeking a medical degree, but he soon found it boring and not quite for him. He managed to get a bachelor’s degree out of it, but never pursued it any further, opting to look into mechanics and engineering instead. The rest was history.

He had to admit, though – his years studying medicine DID benefit him – he probably wouldn’t be able to build something like dispensers otherwise. But he never thought he’d see the day that what he’d studied all those years ago would serve much more help outside of the battlefield other than patching up minor scrapes and bruises.

Finally, the water was the right temperature – Engineer hoped it’d be enough to raise his body temperature, too. He glanced back down at Scout, and jumped about a mile out of shock. The boy’s eyes were open. He was staring straight up at Engineer, though he didn’t move or speak.

Engineer swallowed thickly, hating to have to look into those dead eyes. “H…Hey there, Scout… Uh…” He glanced around anxiously. “This is th’RED Engineer. I think ya might be very sick. I’m gonna give you a quick bath and see if that don’t clear somethin’ up for us. So, uh…” He cleared his throat, not expecting this to be quite as awkward as it was. “I’m gonna have t’take off yer boxers, okay? I WON’T hurt ya – I promise.”

Scout didn’t respond.
Engineer squirmed again. “Is that… okay with you? Say somethin’ if it’s not okay.”
Still no response. Engineer wasn’t even sure if Scout heard him.
“… Well… Alright. I’m takin’ ‘em off now. If you want me to stop just say somethin’, and I’ll stop, alright?”

Engineer undressed the boy, keeping a sharp eye out for any signs of distress, but Scout might as well had been unconscious. His eyeballs kept rolling around the sockets restlessly, as if he were trying to find something not of the realm of men. It gave Engineer all sorts of the creeps.

Within moments after Engineer submerged the boy and started to scrub at Scout’s exposed skin, the water was clouded with filth and dirt almost to the point where Engineer couldn’t see more than a few centimeters under the surface. Engineer thought about maybe letting the filthy water drain out and running a clean bath. Ultimately, he decided not to, fearing that Scout’s body temperature would drop even more.

He found he couldn’t save the kid’s hair. It was too far gone, caked with dirt and weeks-old blood. It looked more like a rat-nest than a head of hair. Engineer thought of RED Scout and how much he obsessed over keeping his hair tidy. He wondered if all Scouts were that vain.

The man shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. He cut the worst of the hair crudely with a pair of scissors, thinking to himself that he could always give the boy a real haircut later.

All the while he worked, he was careful to keep Scout’s worst injury – the boy’s wounded leg – out of the filthy water. He’d bandaged it and cleaned it a few times since Spy shot his kneecap out, but he didn’t want to risk it getting infected. Assuming it wasn’t already infected and the problem behind Scout’s turn for the worse. He’d have to take a look later.

By this time, Scout had drifted off again. Engineer wasn’t sure if he preferred him being asleep and awake. Throughout the routine, the kid would make all sorts of awful noises, as if he was forced to relive his torment over and over again in his dreams. They were like a combination of a tiny moan crossed with a helpless whimper emitted from within his bony chest. Engineer didn’t notice the noises at first, but as soon as he did, he knew he wouldn’t ever be able to rid his mind of them.

The filthy water drained out with a sickening gurgling sound. Engineer sprayed Scout with a quick, warm blast from the shower to make sure he was completely clean, then wrapped him up in a huge, soft towel. The company had ordered several “one size fits all” towels. Meaning “one size fits Heavy”. As small as Scout was, it could have doubled as a blanket.

Engineer gave the kid a pair of his own boxers – a little too big, but better than nothing – and carried Scout into his closet. He hoped – prayed – that this would work. For Scout’s sake and for his.

Knocking came at the door.

“Yes, yes. I am coming, hold on…” the man grumbled, feeling his way over to the door in the dark. He swung it open, bleary-eyed and a little annoyed. Then, surprise crossed his face. “… Engineer?”

The short, bald Texan grinned nervously, wringing his hat in his hands. “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry – did I wake ya?”
“Yes,” came the passive, yet venomous response, “but it is no matter. Come in and sit down.” The man’s voice was now as pleasant and nonchalant as always. With a small smile, he stepped aside, and motioned the Texan inside.

Engineer’s grin widened out of fear and general discomfort. “Uh… Yeah. Thanks, Doc, but I don’t plan on staying long.”
“Nonsense, I inzist,” the German pressed.

Engineer didn’t know whether to take that as Medic just being overly friendly a subtle threat, but either way, he wasn’t going to get anywhere by refusing. “Welp…” A tiny gulp. “I… I guess I could spare a few minutes…”
“Excellent,” Medic chuckled as the jittery Texan stepped inside. The door swung shut behind them.

“So.” The tall German sat on his bed and crossed his legs, somehow managing to look as regal as always, even with just a dark red robe on, a pair of slippers, and a particularly bad case bed hair. He made a bridge with his long fingers, raising one eyebrow. “Vat is it zhat I can do for you, my friend?”

Engineer fiddled with his hat a little more, shifting his weight from foot to foot, eyes glancing around. He didn’t like having to be alone with Medic in his dark, unlit bedroom with the door shut. It smelled like a bad fanfic just waiting to happen.

“Um… Nothin’ much, Doc – I’m sorry to have even bothered ya this early—”
“Sit,” Medic interrupted.
Engineer paused. “Pardon?”
Medic nodded meaningfully at the sturdy chair behind the stout Texan. “Sit.”
“O-Oh. There’s no need for that, really – thank you – but this shouldn’t take more than a—”
“Sit.”

Engineer sat.

“Well, uh… Anyways, Doc, I was wonderin’ if I could borrow the key to your lab for a bit.”
Medic’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Oh?”
“Y-Yeah. I need ta borrow some of your older medical equipment an’ the likes. Been working on some designs for a Level Four dispenser before that no-good, cow-pie lickin’ sunnuva bitch from BLU beats me to it. Heh…”

It was a sound excuse. Engineer had borrowed old equipment from Medic before in order to get his dispensers up to date with his foe’s. It wasn’t surprising that he’d try to get ahead of the curve by building his own upgraded dispenser before the enemy.

“Ah, yes. Good zhinking as alvays, my friend. I shall accompany you.” The German rose to his feet once more to retrieve the key from his desk drawer.
“Uh—that won’t be necessary, pardner – you should get summore sleep and rest up – I already know where the lab is, anyway, and—”

Medic gave a good-natured smile. “Oh no – it’s no problem! I could use zee valk, and since I’m already avake because SOMEVUN couldn’t POSSIBLY vait until a reasonable hour to make his request…” Engineer winced as Medic’s voice dropped into that throaty, semi-threatening tone once more, only for him to go back to his usual, chipper attitude. “I might as vell.”

“Oh… Well… Okay, Doc. If’n yer sure…”
“I’m sure.”

The two left the room with Medic taking long, decisive strides towards his destination and Engineer straggling behind nervously, glancing behind his shoulder every once in a while.

“So, how have zhings been viz you, mein hard-hatted friend?” Medic asked with a smile, trying to make light conversation.
“Oh… ‘Bout the same, more or less…”
“Really? I haven’t been seeing you much lately. I vas… vorried zhat you might have fallen ill.”
“Oh no! No, no, doc, heh… I’m fine. Just been… Busy tryin’ to get my Level Fours up n’ ready, heh heh…”
“Ah, yes. I suppose zhat makes sense.”

There was a pause in their conversation. Engineer was just starting to thank himself that it was over when Medic continued, “Vun more zhing.”
“Huh? What is it, Doc?”
Medic pursed his lips thoughtfully. “It is about zhat… BLU Scout. Zee vun zhat vas questioned.”

Engineer’s blood froze. He swallowed thickly. “Y…Yeah…? What about ‘im?”
Medic paused. “Haff you any idea of his whereabouts, Engineer?”

How the hell could he have found out so fast?! Was Spy tracking me this entire time?! Oh, fuck, I knew this was a bad idea from the start!

Engineer was just about to argue his reasons for taking the kid, when Medic continued, “I didn’t even get to see him zee entire time he was here! In fact, I didn’t know of his existence until zee party a few days ago! So many opportunities lost!” He clenched his fists with bitter frustration.

Engineer exhaled slowly, heart thumping in his chest. “Yeah, well… I’m sure Solly had his reasons for not gettin’ you involved, Medic. Don’t fret ‘bout it.”
“Auch…” Medic sighed, face set in a stern pout. “No vun evah tells me anyzhing… I don’t know vhy I even bozzer…”

Medic continued grumbling all the way to the lab. He unlocked the door and motioned inside. “Go ahead and take everyzhing you need zhat is marked as no longer for use on zee battlefield. I am going to get some breakfast before Scout eats everyzhing in zee fridge AGAIN. Here is zee key – I entrust you to lock up ven you are done and to return it to its proper place.”

Engineer nodded. “Y’kin count on me, Doc.”
“Good.” Medic smiled, giving his shoulder a friendly pat. “I know I can. Goodbye, Herr Engineer.”

Medic left. Engineer exhaled deeply, looking around the expansive lab at all the possibilities now within his grasp.

I was going to look this part over in case it had mistakes, like I've been doing with all the rest, but nah. My hatred for it runs too deep. Plus it's late as fawk over here. So yeah. I officially have given up.

~~~~~~

Engineer’s room wasn’t quite like the other mercenaries. His room was connected directly to his very own private workshop. He’d even taken to sound-proofing the walls so that he wouldn’t disturb anyone by working late at night.

It was originally supposed to be a storage room, but when Engineer found that it wasn’t being used, he asked Soldier for permission to renovate it. So he removed and sealed up the doorway that lead to the outside corridor for privacy, then built another doorway to his workshop from the wall on the far side of his closet. The newer initiates of the RED base didn’t even know there was originally another room there, his work was so flawless.

Engineer’s walk-in closet served as a sort of hallway between his workshop and his room. He still used it as a closet, of course, but he have many clothes to speak of, anyway. The door to his workshop was heavy and required his full weight leaning on it to give.

Now Engie wasn’t a very tidy person. Organized? Well, sure… In his own, unique little way. But definitely not tidy. His workshop was usually piled high with scrap metal, abandoned projects, useless prototypes, and crumpled blueprints. After several days of cleaning almost non-stop, he’d stripped everything not of use into scrap metal, and melted all of his scraps into refined, which is now kept in a corner. The rest of the workshop basically cleaned itself after that.

Engineer had needed all that extra space for the tiny jail cell occupying a good third of his workshop. All that was in it was an occupied bed next to the wall and a nightstand. Small, yes, but not claustrophobic, and definitely several steps up from the pit Scout had been kept in. Here he’d be warm and dry and safe. That was good.

Setting everything up in the workshop definitely made things a tad more cramped, but Engineer somehow made things work. The first thing Engineer did was check up on Scout using a thermometer. As the tiny machine started working, he began to hook the boy up to an antiquated vital sign monitoring screen.

What he found wasn’t encouraging in the least. Scout came out to be 86 degrees Fahrenheit, his heart rate was elevated, and his blood pressure was down. Engineer didn’t know too much about medicine, but he’d bet his right hand that the poor kid had an infection from that that horrible tooth extraction.

Goddamn it… I hope all them trips to the dentist pays off… he thought as he flipped through a book he’d borrowed from Medic’s extensive library. It was helpfully labeled Makeshift Dental Surgery für Dummkopfs.

He didn’t have all the medical equipment necessary, but he found he was able to make due with a Dremel drill for the root canal. He was able to jerry-rig two mechanisms to help things go easier – one that squirted water when needed, and the other to suction it out. He kept a pair of needle-nose pliers on hand just to be on the safe side. Scout still had a great deal of tooth shards in his gums that needed to be removed.

It’d taken a few hours, but Engineer was finally able to operate. Snapping on a pair of latex gloves, a surgical mask, and his miner’s light, he went to work on the kid.

There was a wince as Engineer got his very first good look inside of Scout’s mouth. The gums were broken, purple, and oozing some sort liquid that couldn’t have been blood or saliva. After applying a local anesthetic, the Dremel drill whirled to life.

A wave of nausea hit as blood and pus gushed out as soon as the drill hit. Engineer forced himself to push past it, wincing as the drill made a harsh whine as it dug into the bone. Remembering a section of the book, Engineer quickly rinsed, not wanting to roast it. Using the suction mechanism, he mid himself of the water and filth before Scout could choke on it.

Suddenly, there was a quiet whine, and Engineer nearly jumped a mile out of his chair. Had the anesthetic not worked? Could Scout actually feel everything that was going on? He cautiously peered into the boy’s face. Aside from flickering eyelids, he didn’t stir. Engineer continued his work.

His labor was difficult and tedious, but it was over relatively quickly. Engineer sat back with a sigh, and wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. In a pan beside him was all of the tooth shards he’d pulled out and a heap of bloody, pus-filled gauze that’d become too saturated for him to leave in the boy’s mouth. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to be up all night replacing gauze, but at this point, the chances of that seemed slim.

Now Engineer had a different problem to solve. The illness itself. He couldn’t be sure, but with the help of Medic’s dichotomous key, Engineer was pretty sure Scout had something called Blood Poisoning. Highly dangerous, and almost always fatal, if not treated right away. Scout needed antibiotics, and fast. Luckily, while digging through the lab, Engineer happened upon some old cow pills – back when RED still had cows to speak of.

God damn that Medic.

Anyways, they weren’t expired, and he’d read in the old, worn medical textbook, that antibiotics were antibiotics – they’d still work on Scout, as long as he accounted for the weight difference.

Sighing, he flipped through a book that indicated how much antibiotic a boy Scout’s size should take. From then on, it was just a simple matter of proportioning. He ended up grinding the pill up, weighing it to about a third of its original mass, and fed it to the unconscious boy by mixing it with pudding.

Engineer was exhausted now. He’d meant to keep watch on the kid through the night, but he could barely keep his eyes open. He returned to his own room with a yawn, leaving the door to his workshop open so that he could hear if anything went awry, and double checking to make sure his bedroom door was locked.

With everything accounted for and in place, Engineer allowed himself to drift off, as the beeping of Scout’s electrocardiogram lulled him to sleep.

Here’s a not-well-known fact.

He hated the circus.

More than doctors, dentists, or even flat soda.

The clowns were the worst. They were creepy, face-painted FIENDS with no souls and no friends.

He’d gone with his mom to the circus to see the elephants. Because what fucking little kid DIDN’T want to see fucking elephants? Honestly.

Music trickled out in the background as he munched on his funnel cake and wandered around, trying to find a good spot to see the show. His mom was holding his hand. There were people around. But there were always people around. It was the circus. People liked going there.

For some reason, eating the funnel cake was really hard. He kept remembering biting into it and chewing, but he couldn’t seem to taste anything. After a moment’s frustration, he realized he’d never bitten into it at all.

“Ma—?”

Suddenly, he realized he wasn’t holding his mom’s hand like he thought he was. He whirled around, eyes widened in panic. “Ma?” Had he let go without thinking? Did she tell him to stay put and he hadn’t heard her?

He thought he’d heard his name, but the music and the murmurings of the crowd were too loud. “M…Ma?! Has anyone seen my ma?!”

His young voice was peaked with fear. He was lost in a dark jungle of legs. He didn’t know where to go. That stupid music… WHY didn’t it shut up?!

“Hello? Hello?”

None of the people had faces. They should have had faces, but they didn’t. They were still talking in that low, droning murmur. He could still feel them looking at him. They didn’t have eyes, but they were looking at him.

The music swirled crazy. He felt dizzily. Heart racing. Eyes darting. Racing.

“Mom! MOM! Please! Somebody!”

In the bathroom now. Still music. Looks into a mirror.

CLOWN.

He couldn’t see past the yellow eyes, white face, and red hair. Crimson lips.

Him?

Screamed. Stepped back. Lost his balance, and falling.

Falling backwards, into the darkness, and screaming.

He saw his mother now. She was on the edge screaming. For him.

A hand lead her away from the edge.

Alone now.

Music.

Dark.

There was a ragged gasp as Scout’s eyes fluttered open. He panted harshly for a moment, heart pounding. He still wasn’t quite sure if it’d all been a dream or not. He was drenched in sweat, his mouth ached and tasted like shit warmed over, and he was… laying down?

There was one bleary blink, then two as he tried to clear his vision. That’s when he realized the music from his dream had never actually stopped. He listened carefully, and before long, it transformed from its loopy, warped, circus-like tune into a pleasant, upbeat melody.

Peering between the bars of a cage he was inexplicably in, his eyes came to rest on Engineer’s stocky form, sitting with his heels kicked up on a nearby desk, strumming his guitar, and singing in a low, husky voice.

“Near a tree by a river, there's a hole in the ground, where an old man of Aran goes around and around…” the man crooned softly, stroking the instrument with an odd tenderness. “And his mind is a beacon in the veil of the night; for a strange kind of fashion, there's a wrong and a right. But he'll never, never fight over you…”

There was a pause as Engineer’s eyes flickered up to Scout’s face. A grin. “Oh, man. Can’t tell ya how glad I am t’see ya awake. You had me worried, there.”

Engineer wasn’t sure what to expect the kid’s response to be. He’d imagined an entire list, from a heartfelt, “Thank you…” to a fearful, “Where am I? What’s going on?”

He was sorely unprepared for Scout’s actual response, which was a venomous, “Fuck you.”

The man nearly fell over in his chair from the harsh words. “E-Excuse me?!”
“You heard me. Fuck. You,” the boy sneered, sitting up as best as he could. He glanced around the bars of the cage he was locked in. “I know what this is. You’ve come to bargain for fuckin’ sex. You save me from the Masked Psycho and I become YOUR pretty little ass-slave instead. Well, fuck you, pal.”

He clenched his jaw with a smoldering determination. “I’m NOT becoming this entire base’s fucking slut. You’ll have to kill me first.” Even as he spoke, a small quiver overtook his voice. He swallowed forcefully past the lump forming in his throat and choked back the tears.

It took a moment for Engineer to recover from the vicious retort. He laid the guitar down and raised his hands in a nonthreatening way. “Look… Calm your horses, now. I’m not here to—”
Scout cut him off with a snort and a nasty smile. “Oh, hey. Looks like you CAN talk, after all, huh?” It turned into a horrid snarl just as quickly. “Would’ve been nice to know when I was rottin’ in that fuckin’ cellar in the DARK all those days.”

Engineer returned it with a scowl of his own. “Well, this ain’t really the way t’treat someone who just saved your damn life.”
Scout barked out a laugh. “Yeah right. ‘Someone who saved my life’ my ass! WHERE WERE YOU THE LAST FEW FUCKING DAYS, HUH?! Why didn’t you save me THEN?!”

Engineer winced, and tried to respond, but Scout wasn’t done yet. “I BEGGED YOU! You KNEW what he was doing to me! You KNEW it, but you didn’t do SHIT! You’re just as bad as he is – no – WORSE!!! Because you saw it and knew it was wrong and didn’t do SHIT! Or did you want to wait until you were sure you could have me all to yourself, you fucking fa—”

Engineer jumped to his feet, crossed the room with two easy strides, and slammed his fist on the bars of the cage so hard, the medical equipment rattled. Scout jumped out of his skin and hid behind his blanket, trembling.

“God DAMN it, you FUCKING little idiot!” he exploded, eyes blazing like the sun. “I’M NOT LIKE HIM!!!”

Scout just stared at him from behind his blanket, still shaking like a leaf. There was silence, and then a tiny sob filled the silence. Engineer immediately felt guilty, seeing the kid’s fearful, tear-filled eyes, but was too proud to admit it.

He sighed, took a step back, and folded his arms. “Alright… Sorry. You’ve got e’ery right to be suspicious an’ e’erythang,” he muttered, glaring off to the side. “But I’ve taken a lot of risks to getcha here, and I don’t appreciate it bein’ thrown back in my face like that.”

Scout wiped his eyes, trying to put back on his best brave face. His voice still quivered as he asked, “Well, what is it that you want from ME, then?”
Engineer thought about this. “Well… Nothin’, I guess—”
“Bullshit. Everyone wants somethin’.”
“Well, it’s true,” Engineer snapped back. Another sigh. “Look. I’m not askin’ you to trust me, alright? I’m just asking you to… Let me HELP you,” he fumbled out.

There was a pause as Scout glared holes into Engie’s skull, as if trying to read his mind. Engineer just gazed uncomfortably back.

Finally, there was a smirk, and Scout sank back on his pillow, eyes knowing. “Oh, I see… You’re one of THOSE types… You doin’ this to ease your conscience? To help you forget what you saw? To convince yourself you’re still a good man or some shit?”

At Engineer’s wince, Scout chuckled and closed his eyes. Several uncomfortable seconds of silence ticked by as Scout took some time to rest after his emotional outburst. Engineer was just about to assume he’d drifted off to sleep, when those icy blues opened once more.

Determination shone in Scout’s eyes. “You really wanna help me out, Cowpoke? Set me free.”
“I cain’t do that, pardner.”
“Ha! I knew it.” Scout glared bitterly at him. He should have guessed. Want of redemption only went so far, after all.

“Oh yeah?!” Engineer ground his teeth, clutching one of the bars and pressing his forehead against the cool metal in order to quell his escalating headache. “And what would you have me do, you gotdamn MORON?! Where the hell are you gonna run on THAT leg?! Where can you go where they won’t find you?! Do you even know where you are?! Where the nearest BLU base is?! You’ll get us BOTH killed!”

Scout somberly thought this over, the color draining from his face. Finally, a sigh. “Well then… Guess the only other option is to kill me,” he muttered. “Just end it all.”
“I can’t do that, either.”
“WHY the hell not?!” Scout snapped, tears of fury burning his eyes. “You said it yourself – there’s nowhere I can go at this point! Hell, even if there was…” He glanced down at his shattered leg, and gave a heartbroken sigh. “I… I wouldn’t really be livin’, anyways. Not like this.”

Engineer shot him a look of sympathy, and sighed, lowering his gaze to his boots. “Well… I can’t do that. Soldier’s my superior, an’ he ain’t given the orders to… yanno. Not yet.”

Scout rolled over and stared at the wall. “So. You’re tellin’ me that you can’t let me go, but you can’t kill me, either? I’m not really livin’, but I’m not allowed to die?”
Engineer rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I… I guess so, pardner,” he muttered.
“… Well. Alright then.”

Engineer waited, but after fifteen solid minutes of silence, he figured the kid was done talking for the day.

As he shut the heavy door to his workshop, he pretended not to notice the stifled sobs coming from the trembling form on the bed.

Things were going to be a lot tougher than he’d previously thought.

~~~~~~

Here's the song mentioned: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6DcfXVL0mh0&feature=relmfu and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VN04vtNcrek (original version)

MY EYES. THEY BURN! So... close...

~~~~~~

Another dream about him… That boy.

Spy rubbed his eyes groggily, fishing for the cigarettes he kept stashed under his pillow and adjusting his mask. It’d been an unusually warm night. He could feel sweat beading under the thick rubber on his face, making him feel even more uncomfortable than he already was. The dim glow of the tiny flame illuminated his face as he lit up, and took a long draw.

He didn’t even need to glance down at himself to know he had quite an embarrassing erection tenting his blanket. It was salt in the wounds, knowing who it was for.

Spy had quite the dilemma on his hands, he mused. Not the predicament considering the state of his morality – no, his concern was of something much, much more dire.

Simply put, he was concerned about his manhood.

He hadn’t meant for this to become such a problem. It was simple and easy to understand, at first. He had the opportunity to end his month-long dry spell, and took it, the first chance he got. But now, he was having his doubts.

He stood and began pacing as he contemplated everything. It was odd to say, but… in a twisted sort of way, he’d developed feelings for the boy under his control. Not love, of course, but a malicious and terrifying obsession. He had emotional attachment to the idiotic little whelp – he saw him as his territory.

This wasn’t all terrible, but most terrifying of all, he’d started to have bizarre fantasies of the boy. At the start, the boy was just a tool used to vent his sexual frustration. While taking him, he’d imagine he was making love to beautiful women instead – his favorite being the boy’s mother.

Maybe that had been a mistake. Somewhere along the line, the fantasies of torturing Scout and making love to his mother had blended together. He’d begin with thoughts of her curvy form and her alluring lips, but by the end, he’d imagine himself face-fucking Scout until the kid got another case of the dry heaves. For the last few days, he’d purposely stayed away from the boy. He’d tried to masturbate without images of Scout’s broken body and humiliated sobbing entering his mind even once. He simply couldn’t do it.

What if he’d captured someone else? A woman – beautiful and voluptuous – and done the same to her? If he’d tortured and raped her instead? Would she take the place of Scout in his obsession? He couldn’t be sure. Just thinking about leaving the boy completely made him uneasy. The end result would probably be that he stored both captives together and visit them both.

Spy took a seat on his bed, giving another puff of his cigarette as he stared up at his ceiling. He couldn’t imagine why someone so unattractive and unappealing could have such an effect on him. Perhaps, he thought, it was in the timing. Scout may have not been much, but he was there, and he’d satisfied Spy for the first time in well over 30 days. Not only that, but he’d made his first discovery of his love for the more… twisted desires when it came to sex because of the boy.

Was it enough to defend his heterosexuality? Maybe not. But he simply couldn’t get up the effort to care anymore. Not to mention it had been days since his last visit, his erection wasn’t going away, and, hell, he just wanted to fucking fuck.

With this new outlook, he dressed and headed to the cellar. Maybe he’d make Scout beg again.

~~~~~~

Boner monologues with Spy.

This is the last installment put up before my first thread autosaged.

O HAI, NEW CONTENT!!!

~~~

“You just gonna stare at me like that all day?”

Engineer was stirring something up in the pot bubbling quietly on his portable hotplate. It’d become a habit to get up early and take care of the kid. As irritating as it was, the routine was still useful to him even now.

Predictably, Scout’s eyes hardened at the question. “I’m makin’ sure you don’t put no drugs in it.”
Engineer just sighed. “Trust me, boy, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.” He checked the pot, and shook his head with a sigh. “Still ain’t ready yet… Ah well.”

Scout watched with alarm as Engineer grabbed the set of keys hanging on the opposite side of the wall, and let himself into the tiny cage. “Wh…What are you doing?! Stay away from me!”
“Calm down,” Engineer grunted. He held up a slender, glass thermometer. “I just wanna take your temperature, is all. Gotta make sure you’re doin’ alright.” He sat next to the kid, and angled it towards his mouth.
“Fuck off.” Scout pouted and pulled the blankets around himself stubbornly.

“Oh, c’mon…” Engineer sighed. Suddenly, a grin popped onto his face, and he slyly whispered, “If you don’t open up, I’ll just have to take it from ya rectally!”

He’d meant for it to be a joke. In hindsight, nothing about what he’d said was a good idea in the slightest. The color drained from Scout’s face, and he stared at Engineer with his lips pressed into a straight, thin line. “I… Um… I didn’t mean it that way… I wouldn’t force you to… um…”
“Yeah… I got it,” Scout replied quietly. He steeled himself once more. “Alright, fine, ya fag.”

With a satisfied smile, Engineer plopped the device into Scout's mouth. Under the tongue, just like his mom used to do to see if he was just trying to get out of school. Scout knew that it was just how you took someone’s temperature, but it still made his heart ache.

Engineer gave a low whistle. “A solid 100.” A frown. “I’m… I’m actually not sure if that’s better or not.”
“Better n’ what?” Scout asked, burying into the blankets. He blinked away the tears stinging his eyes.
“When I brought ya here, you had a temperature of 86,” Engineer replied, going back to check on the stove.
Scout didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t even know it was possible to still be living at a body temp that low.

“Ah, good.” Engineer began spooning the stuff into a bowl, and began sprinkling salt, cinnamon, and a few spoonfuls of sugar into the mix.
Scout’s lip curled up slightly in disgust. “The hell IS that?” he asked.
“Oatmeal,” Engineer replied. “You’re under my care now, so I’ll feed ya what I damn well please. But we’ll start ya off easy first.”
“Aw, jeez…” Scout groaned. “I fuckin’ hate oatmeal!”
“Just eat it.”

Correction. Scout USED TO hate oatmeal. But he found that, after days of being fed the same bland mixture of corn and rice together, oatmeal was practically gourmet. He gobbled up the treat up hungrily, though he stubbornly insisted he was strong enough to feed himself, and wouldn’t let Engineer so much as touch him while he was eating.

Engineer sighed and smiled, happy to see the kid appreciated something he did for once. Even if it figured that he’d win a Scout over with food.

He was just about to offer something to drink, when he heard a frantic, buzzing noise. Scout curiously looked up from his bowl of oatmeal, and Engineer explained, “It’s my custom-made doorbell. Handy when your workshop is soundproofed.”
A shrug and a nod.

He turned on the intercom, and asked, “Yeah?”
“Engineer! Come outside immediately! I have a pressing matter to discuss!”

Scout froze, eyes widening. He quietly place his spoon in his bowl, and dropped his gaze to his lap. He was shaking again.

“… All right, Spy. I’ll be right there.”

Engineer glanced at the trembling form behind him. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle this, kid. You ain’t got nothin’ t’worry ‘bout.”
Scout couldn’t respond.

Sighing, Engineer exited his little workshop, and approached his bedroom door. He opened it to see Spy tapping a cigarette, as if to rid himself of the ash. It was still unlit.

“We’ve got a problem,” Spy hissed before Engineer could even get out a word. He paused to take a draw on his cigarette, then noticed that it was unlit. He shakily brought a flame to the end, and huffed without pleasure. “He’s gone.”

Engineer just blinked, staring up at him. Then, he glanced behind the thin man’s frame, noting the conspicuous trail of hardly smoked cigarettes leading to his room. “… Holy hell, pardner. Was that all you?”
“Don’t mind those for now!” Spy snapped irritably. “Did you hear what I said?! He’s. Gone.”
“Who?”

Spy leaned in close, hissing between his teeth. “Who do you think, you imbecile?! The BLU Scout!” He pulled away from the Texan, glancing around nervously as he flicked away his cigarette and lit up another. “Mon dieu! If he has escaped, the blame will be cast upon me! We have to find him! Tell me – when did you last check up on the little wretch? We have no time to lose, though I doubt he got very far with his injuries.”

“Oh, him.” Engineer leaned casually on the doorframe. “I have him.”
Spy actually looked surprised. “… What?”
“He’s with me. He ain’t escaped. He was suffering from a very serious illness, so I took ‘im in.”

Suddenly, Spy exhaled, and an oily grin spread over his face. “Oh. So that is what has happened?” A chuckle. “I was worried for a moment there. I thought that maybe you had made a careless error and that I was going to have to pay for it.” He blew out a casual plume of smoke. “Tell me. When can I expect to see him in my chambers again?”

“Never.”
Spy froze, his smile melting off his face in disbelief.
“I ain’t givin’ him back. He’s with me now.”

There was a long, uncomfortable pause as Engineer glared Spy down behind his goggles. Spy just stared back, as if he didn’t know how to take this unexpected revelation. Then, there was another smile, and Spy’s eyes glittered malevolently. A laugh.

“Oh, I see…” he purred.
Engineer raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
“My dear Engineer, I understand your plight. I am not as heartless as you make me out to be. We can share him – there’s no need for selfishness. As long as my schedule isn’t interrupted, you can do whatever you please with the little wretch. Perhaps we can even… meet up together somewhere down the line.”

Engineer couldn’t have looked more horrified if someone had called his mother a whore. “I take OFFENSE to that!” he snapped viciously. “I ain’t like you, ya god damned sicko! I want nothin’ to do with you! I ain’t rapin’ the kid, and I sure as hell ain’t givin’ him back so that YOU can rape ‘im! He’s with me now!”

Spy looked taken aback for half a second before his face broke out into an ugly sneer. “If that is how you want to play it, then fine! Let’s see what Monsieur Soldat has to say about your unauthorized aiding of the enemy! About you disobeying his orders that I was to be in charge of the boy!”

“Go ahead; tell ‘im.” Engineer crossed his arms decisively. “And I’ll tell him how you disobeyed his direct orders to keep the boy in decent living conditions in case we needed to question him more. That boy was on the brink of death when I got to him.” A snarl. “Matter of fact, how about I tell him about your sexual relationships the kid? Which is against regulations that was set by Redmond himself?”

At Spy’s horrified look, the stout Texan smirked. “And you can be sure that I’ll give Solly VERY detailed accounts of your various deeds with Scout. And it won’t stop there. I’ll make sure the entire base knows. You won’t be able to walk down the halls without everyone looking at you and knowing you for the ugly, perverted rapist you are. You’ll never be respected or admired again – I’ll see to it.”

Spy was redder than his suit and spluttering with anger. “B…B-But—”
Engineer smirked. “Now, I’ll admit. I’ll probably get in hot water, too. But it’ll barely be a slap on the wrist compared to what you’ll suffer. You probably won’t get in TOO much trouble, but the entire base will despise you.”

“And as for me…” he continued, “Heck, Soldier might even let me keep the kid. I mean, the set-up might be a little… cushier than someone like Solly would like, but it’s definitely not paradise. It’s still a prison.” His smirk got wider. “But that doesn’t even compare to the biggest advantage I have over you. Solly just plain likes me better. He’ll probably side with me just ‘cause he can’t stand your scrawny ass to begin with.”

He paused a moment to let it all sink in. “Now we don’t HAVE to go through all that icky reportin’ to superiors stuff. You just go about your way, and I’ll go about mine, and we never have to talk about this again. But I’m keeping the boy.”

Spy clutched his cigarette in his hand and ground his teeth together so loudly, it sounded like two rocks were being scraped together. Engineer was inwardly wincing, but he wouldn’t let himself be seen backing down.

Finally, Spy let out a low, animalistic growl. “You… You will pay for this, Laborer…”
Engineer paused. Carefully, he raised his goggles so that they were resting on his forehead, cracked his neck few times, and glared directly into Spy’s eyes.

His words were soft and utterly dangerous.

“What did you just call me?”

For a moment, neither of them moved. Spy knew he had Engineer by at least three inches, but Engineer was sturdy and muscular, and he’d had his skull cracked open by enough wrenches to know that sedating him by force would be a walk in the park for the Texan.

So. Spy had two options: initiate a fistfight with the man, and end up looking like a complete fool in front of the entire base, or make a strategic retreat.

There was another low growl. “This isn’t over,” the enraged Frenchman spat. He backed away, willing Engineer to burst into flames from his falcon-like gaze alone.

Engineer just snorted, posture relaxing. “Yeah, it is,” he grumbled, giving Spy one last warning glare as he shut and locked his door.

When he returned to his workshop, he found Scout curled up into a little ball, trembling like a leaf. His bowl was tossed haphazardly to the side and his blankets were soaked in a foul smelling vomit. His thin arms were wrapped around his skinny body as he sobbed as quietly as he possibly could.

“Please…” he whispered. “Please, don’t let him get me again… Please…”

There was silence for a bit. The bed groaned as Engineer took a seat next to the boy, and shakily stroked his hair.

“I won’t.”

hah go Engineer!

Fuck. yes.

Engineer is a badass. That is all.

That was not at all what I expected from the Engineer.

And it was fucking awesome.

First word in the captcha: Karma. Thought it was fitting.

Yeah, I totally expected Engineer to lie, but this was so much better. He's so badass.

I know you were saying on the last thread how Engie wasn't all that good of a person for watching scout and doing nothing, but I always thought it was a courage issue. I mean, he was risking a lot to do what he did. Looks like his balls came in thought!

I love this story. It could read/be paced a little better in places--which is really just an issue of experience, I suspect--but the characterization is so well done, and I cringed for the entire duration of the torture and rape. My favorite bit has got to be the way you've done the Spy. He's multilayered and just genuinely fucking scary. Update soooon.

I have a giant silly grin on my face now and I thought you should know.

Oh snap! Papa Bear Engie to the rescue!
Take that, you smelly crazy Spy!
I'm internally dancing with glee, it's so great to see confident Engie after all the chapters of him being indecisive over helping the kid or not and having to follow Spy's orders.

Leave for three weeks Come back to this TEARS OF JOY
Man, you have no idea how much I love your depiction of Spy. Love love love love. I am just too excited for him to crack. I'm almost positive he can hit lower than rock bottom.

>>14
>>15
>>16
Glad ya liked!

>>17 Yeah - I thought I might take people by surprise with this one. I thought it'd be a good chance to highlight the differences between Engie and Spy. Spy tends to creep around and get things done in the back-alley kind of way, while Engineer is a more... head-on kind of guy.

>>18 Yeah, I guess he just figured there was no chance he could out-sneak the spy, so he might as well build up the best case for himself as he could and defend it. In truth, though, quite a lot of it was bluffing. He wasn't sure if Spy would have gone for it or not, but since Spy did, a lot of things should be much easier for him. In theory.
And, yeah. I was just saying that because I didn't quite have a handle on his character yet, myself, so I wanted to know what you guys thought. His case is pretty sound, though, and I still think he could have made a move to save Scout a lot earlier, if he so chose. But I'm guessing fear and the desire of self-preservation held strong. Not really like you could expect much else out of a mercenary.

>>19 Pacing issues? Please, go on! Anything you say could be used if I have to re-upload this story again! And I'm always striving to improve. Also, thank you for the compliment on my Spy character! I'm doing my best to make him that guy everyone loves to hate.

>>20 I'm glad you shared!

>>21 Like I said before, a good bit of what he was saying was bluffing, but he was a lot more confident now, so yeah. I don't know if what I'm saying is making sense anymore. I just got out of another operation today. Sorry if I'm a little "Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa", becacue I'm not sure if I'm fully awake yet, lol.

>>22 Ginger! I was wondering where you were! Glad to have you back! I'm glad you like mah Spaaaah - he is a ton of fun to write.


ALSO, EVERYONE, lol, I just noticed something about the last update! Spy's accent mysteriously disappeared again! OH MAI. Not sure if I'll nuke it (I probably won't), but feel free to facepalm at my stupendous show of goldfish memory just there.
"HEY GUYS, IMMUNAH DO A FRENCH ACCENT NOW, KTHNX. /writes entire last chapter sans Frenchness"
New chapter up... Well, I don't want to say soon, but eventually! lol.

Hey, guys. Think I'm gonna take a small hiatus from the Chan for a while. I kinda feel a little burned out, and with crap going on with my health and all, I think it'd just be best to take a break instead of uploading total crap.

So, yeah. Sorry if this disappoints anyone, but I'll be back ASAP.

better to have you rested than miserable! Thanks so much for the uploads so far, get some good rest now!

>>24

Aww, I hope you make a speedy recovery! The story is excellent and we await your return.

O hai, character development. Fancy seeing you here.

I wrote this in an overnight sleepless binge. If it's anus-searingly bad, just complain and I'll understand and totally hook it up, mah homies.

~~~

“You ever wonder why we’re fightin’ this war?”
Engineer looked up from the draft he was working on for his new secret project. He scratched his stubble thoughtfully. “Well, no… What makes ya ask that, pardner?”

Scout had fallen into one of his silent fits again after Spy’s arrival a few days prior. Whenever he could, Engineer tried to encourage him to speak, and was met by a fair bit of success, but this was the first time Scout had actually started a conversation on his own. Engineer felt that was a good sign.

Scout continued staring up at the ceiling with his hands resting on his stomach. “Well, why not ask? I mean, think about it… We’ve been running around killing each other over and over again based on the color of our shirts, man. That’s it.” He shifted a little. “Why would anyone do this? Much less PAY us to do it? It’s just the same… Cap the point, defend the point, push the cart, block the cart… Guess I’d only want to know what’s the point of it all…”

Engineer didn’t like where this was going. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, uh… they never told you?”
“Told us what?”
“How the war started. I remember that was the first employee briefing I ever got!” He raised an eyebrow, taking a bottle of Red Oak beer and popping it open. He had time to talk. “You’re tellin’ me they never told ya’ll?”
Scout shook his head earnestly. “No, man! Never!”

Engineer just raised an eyebrow and took a swig. “You sure they didn’t brief ya’ll at least once on that? Or did ya just sleep through it?”
Scout cracked a very faint smile. “Eh. Same difference.”
Engineer kicked back and took another swig of his beer. “Well, the way I remember it… Redmond and Blutarch were brothers, right? And their rich old man was dyin’. They never got along to well to begin with, but Blutarch got really upset when he heard Redmond was getting alluv their poppa’s land, even though Blutarch were the oldest. But here’s the kicker – them two is actually twins, and Blutarch was only first by twelve seconds! Long story short, Blutarch forged the document at the last second to make it look like they both got equal shares of the land, and the two fellas’ve been fightin’ ever sense.”

Scout frowned. “Wait. That don’t sound right.”
“Pardon?”
“I think I heard this story before, yeah, but it went different, I’m pretty sure.”
Engineer sighed. Loudly. “Well, don’t go askin’ me to tell ya stories if yer just gonna argue discrepancies,” he grumbled under his breath. “That’s just the way I remember it.”

Scout nodded, then sighed. “Well, in any case, it’s nice to know I went through what I did just for a huge fuckin’ patch of dirt.”
Engineer winced for a second, then paused. “Well, that just begs the question why DID ya go through with it, huh? I… I’m no wimp, but I don’t think I coulda held out nearly that long,” he said in a low, respectful voice. “Does your loyalty to BLU really run that deep?”

Scout just shrugged and gave a sniffle that was embarrassingly loud. “N… Naw… I didn’t do it for some huge-ass company or a faceless old fag that just wants to get his hands on some quick cash… I did it for my pals back in the base. I wasn’t gonna let them get wiped out just because I was a weak-ass pussy. And…”

There was a pause, and then a bitter chuckle. “When it was over, I… wanted somewhere to go back to. Yanno? Livin’ there with all those crazy-ass dudes… Reminded me of back in the day when all my brothers were around. Before it got all quiet an’ shit.”
Engineer nodded empathetically.

A sigh. “There was… a lot of reasons I held out like that, but I guess none of it really matters now…”

There was silence for a while.

“Yanno…” Engineer started awkwardly, keeping his eyes down. “You’re… You’re a good kid.”
Scout rolled over to face the wall. “Ya think if… well, if things woulda been different… We might’ve been friends, hard-hat?”
Engineer rubbed the back of his neck with growing agitation. “Well… It’s… hard t’say,” he muttered, fumbling his words like a moron.
“But what’dya think.” Scout’s voice was almost inaudible now.
“I… guess.”
Scout seemed like he was about to say something, then changed his mind and simply nodded. “Yeah, alright,” he sighed.

Engineer didn’t like the awkward feeling the conversation had left him with. He crept towards the door like a bandit.

Hearing the knob turn, Scout turned around again. “Hey, wait. Y’leavin’ already?”
“Well, yeah,” Engineer fumbled, every word irritating the knot in his throat. He felt like he needed some time to himself. It wasn’t very often he was with someone for such an extended period of time. “Why?”

Scout shifted uncomfortably. “Well, it’s just… I’ve had enough of bein’ alone, y’know? I was locked in a room in the dark by myself for, like… Fuck, it feels like forever.” The kick choked back a sob, even as his voice broke. “I mean, if you wanna go, that’s alright, too, but I… Fuck, man, you’d be doin’ me a solid.”

Engineer sighed, immediately feeling guilty. “Alright, alright. No need to get emotional on me, now.”

To Engineer’s relief, Scout didn’t say much after that, leaving him to sketch possible new ideas or play his guitar or just drink. Scout had to face it – he was starting to like the stout Texan. More alarming was the fact that he was starting to TRUST him.

But what else was he going to do? Like it or not, he was completely dependent on Engineer now. He had to make the most of it and worry about the future later.

But it felt nice to have someone there to fill the silence.

I approve of this.

Ooooo, interesting chapter. Both the plot development and the emotional/character development could go in a lot of different directions from here. I also approve.

May I offer a friendly correction? The word "y'all" is a contraction of "you" and "all," in which the speaker substitutes the full pronunciation of the word "you," thus dropping the "ou" in the spelling of the word, which leads to "y'all." The way you have it spelled here, "ya'll," would imply a combination of the words "ya" and "all," which some may argue is correct, but generally I do believe does not make any sense.

TL;DR: y'all = (you - ou) + ' + all. Y'all.

Well that didn't take long at all! Nice to see you up and running so soon. Hope you still get to sleep, though.

#28: Thanks, mate!

#29: Ah, thank you! I was wondering about that since I'd seen it both ways, and I just decided to spell it like I'd always seen it growing up (grew up in the American south-east, but it's possible it's spelled differently in Texas). I'll try to break my bad(?) habit and spell it the right(?) way from now on. SLAP IT TO THE LIST OF THINGS TO IMPROVE NEXT RE-UPLOAD.

Ginger: I guess not, but it still took me longer than usual, I guess. I just needed some time to stop obsessing over, "OMG IT'S AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PILE ALREADY - GOTTA WRITE - EVERYONE'S FORGETTING ABOUT ME" and get back to the reason I really like writing. That's simply the reason that I LIKE DOING IT. Sometimes you just need to take a step back and reevaluate what you're doing and why sometimes.

Same anon who posted the whole y'all thingy:

As a Texan, "y'all" is how I've always spelled it, but I certainly ain't no authority on the matter! I've seen it both ways, too. I do like to think of that one as the correct spelling, though, 'cause it makes sense grammatically, you know?

"Y'all" is how it's spelled in the dictionary, anyway, which under normal circumstances would be the be-all end-all, but the dictionary includes the word <i>bootylicious</i> now, so, uh... welp. Taking grains of salt and all that jazz.

...I don't know why I'm still talking. About a slang contraction, no less. Wtf. Um. LOVE YOUR STORY MATE, S'GREAT STUFF. I haven't posted my appreciation previous to this, but I've been lurking and reading since the beginning and enjoying it quite a lot. Just so's you know.

Haha, it does?! That's strangely... fucking epic.

And thanks for dropping by and paying your regards! I fucking love it when people comment on my crap. Good on ya, mate.

Short yet sweet.
Gah, as inane as their conversations are, I love it when Engie and Scout converse.
Even when they're just shooting the breeze, I don't feel bored or impatient, their friendship is just so strange and yet comforting to read, despite the awkwardness.
I dunno if I'm making sense, but that's how I feel.
Lovely as always!

I like this story, I really really do. But maybe it's cause I'm a sadistic ass in my head, or whatever. I like the way you portray the characters at the very least. I wanted to wait for an update post before I said anything in here so I wasn't bumping it and getting other readers excited.

Bitlateforthatbutohwell. Thanks so much for entertaining me so well!

34: Thank you for the compliment - no really! I have to say, though, that conversations between any of the characters aren't supposed to be inane, even if nothing is happening. And if you, as the reader, seem to think so, well I have FAILED AT ME CRAFT and sentence myself to three days in the dungeon.
Really, the reason I included this little tidbit of Engineer and Scout talking, is because I wanted to illustrate the way their relationship is growing and taking form. I didn't want it to just suddenly be that they're suddenly friends when the readers have seen no proof of that, because that'd feel jarring and... kinda out-of nowhere. Not the sort of thing I'm aiming for.
Thanks for reading, and I'll try do better next time!


35: GG, pallie. No, but seriously. Thanks for stopping by to pay your respects. Most people couldn't guess how much it means to use writers to know people actually appreciate what we're doing. Artists, too. (Though I tend to think writers have it a tad bit worse because people are more likely to look at a pretty picture than to spend the time reading 1,500+ pretty words - just sayin'.) No offense to anyone - I have mad respect for artists, reallyyy!

Yet another great chapter. As awkward as it must be for me to say this, I'm kinda wishing I had stumbled upon this at a later date, so that I wouldn't have to wait for each chapter. But, thats just the impatient part of me. Keep up the great work, regardless of how much sex is in it (and being straight, I don't mind the lack of sexing :P )

Flash: I hear ya, man. I feel that way about a lot of stories I read on the site.

Here's a little tidbit to keep you guys interested.

~~~~~~~

“You’re leaving?!”

Engineer couldn’t help but wince at the panicked tinge underlying the question. “C…Calm down, alright?” he soothed. “I’m just gonna… be getting some more supplies for us. We’re just about outta food, so I thought I’d raid the kitchen and stockpile some more.”

Scout shot him a look that cut into his very soul. “Call me crazy, hard-hat, but… I… I don’t think you’re being completely honest with me.”

Engineer cursed inwardly. Damn him and his inability to lie… “Alright, alright. I’ll fess up,” he sighed. “I’m gonna get a few drinks with the guys, alright? Just to keep up appearances. It’s been more than a week since I brought ya in, and I’ve barely left my room since. I don’t want anyone getting suspicious.” Well, any MORE suspicious, he added in his head.

“W… Well…” Scout buried himself under the blankets some more. “Alright… But you’re gonna lock the door, right? And you’re gonna be back as soon as you can?”

“Yeah.” A tired smile. “Trust me, kid. You don’t have anything to worry about – Spy ain’t gonna touch a hair on your head – I’ll see to it.”
Scout shuddered but said nothing. He stared at the wall.

Engineer sighed and left the little workshop and its captive behind. He was sure to put the safety lock onto his door before he left, bolting it shut as if he were Soldier having a psychotic, paranoid episode. Could never know if that damn spy was watching.

Which he was.

EVERYTHING IS CLIFFHANGERS! Regardless, You have me at the edge of my seat and I wait to see what that sneaky spy is going to do (or if he's already in the workshop)

Every new chapter is like a beautiful butterfly resting on my shoulder and whispering dirty things in my ear.

Every new chapter is like a beautiful butterfly resting on my shoulder and whispering dirty things in my ear.
Most accurate description ever.

#39: hehheh... Just you wait and seeeee...

"Which he was."

If you could be here (or I there) witnessing the look on my face. I am so excited because I love your Spy and yet, as most normal people should probably be feeling, I am also quite freaked out because I love Scout and he's so broken and we don't want him more broken the poor thing.

With fear in my heart and excitement racing through my veins I await your next installment. Hopefully it's not too short and sweet or the anticipation might kill me.

Looking forward to it!

Spy was watching? I accidentally exclaimed "Oh fuck." Out loud.

"Which he was"

I confess. I screamed like a little girl a bit.

Aren't I the biggest cock-tease? trollface.png

Gonna try to get the next part up today, but no promises. Gotta go to a wedding reception. Gonna go in mah suit like a pimping boss of epic and science. FUCK YEAH.

Captcha: engineers.

WJAT

FUCK DE PO-LEESE.

~~~~~~

“Aye! Look who it is, mate!”
Heavy looked up from Demoman’s comment and rose to his feet. “Engineer?!” The gargantuan man’s face broke out into a grin, and he gave a great, belly-shaking laugh. “Is not possible!”
Engineer smiled and waved sheepishly. “Heya fellas. Missed me much?”

Heavy flung his arms wide and gave the short Texan a bone-crushing hug. “YES!” he laughed. “Come! Sit vit’ us! You have drink now, yes?” Demoman was already propping up a cheap folding-chair for him.

Engineer flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Aw, shoot, fellas… Thanks for all this.”
“It’s nae a problem, lad!” Demoman exclaimed, raising his bottle of scrumpy as if making a toast. “We’ve missed yeh! Come on, now – si’ down and take a load off.”

Engineer smiled and did as the Scot suggested and took a seat. When he inspected the cooler resting at their feet, he was touched to find that they’d kept a few bottles of Red Oak beer chilled just in case he showed up.

“You guys are the best, ya know that?”

*****

If you asked Engineer, he couldn’t tell you exactly when this had become a ritual of theirs. Every Tuesday and Thursday, he, Demoman, and Heavy would come up to the rafters and watch the sunset. Most of the time, they drank, talked a bit – anything to pass the time. Life in a top-secret base got dull fast, so anything was welcome.

“So, how ye been feelin’, mate?” Demoman asked, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve barely seen a head or tail of ye!”
“Eh…” Engineer removed his cap and scratched his bald head. “Well, I just been… thinkin’, is all. Nothin’ big.”
Heavy shot him a suspicious look. “I hope not about leetle BLU.”

Engineer rubbed his chin, gazing out in the distance. “Nah. I’ve been thinking about what you said, and… I’ve kinda come to peace with that, yanno? Just let fate play out n’ all that.”

Heavy nodded. “Is good philosophy to have.”
A weak smile. “Yeah. It’s hard to not worry sometimes, but… Like you said – me getting all bent out of shape about it won’t help none.”

Demoman sighed, taking a drink. “Aye. ‘Tis a shame, though. Can nae imagine he was much older n’ our Scoot.”
“Younger,” Heavy murmured quietly. He almost sounded regretful.
“Ach.” Demoman winced. “Poor lad. But that’s just what you’d expect from those BLU scum. If the lad is nae old enough to drink by law, he’s nae old enough to fight, the way I see it.”
Heavy nodded sagely. “Babies fighting. Is reality now.”

“Well…” Engineer cracked an uncomfortable smile, and glanced down the neck of his bottle. “Like ya said, big guy. Not our place to get involved with all that, right?”
Heavy smiled and nodded, clapping Engineer roughly on the back. “Da. Is hard thought for now, but gets easier. Only way to keep brain in dis war.” He tapped his forehead to illustrate his meaning.

Heavy certainly was right. But Engineer had already lost his mind. Simply shutting himself off from all reality just didn’t work for him like it did with his friends. He wouldn’t try to be a superhero and stop all of RED’s injustice single-handedly, but the least he could do was protect the Scout under his care.

After Heavy’s last words, the topic shifted to something more pleasant – probably something about cars. Engineer had meant to leave much sooner, but enjoyed himself so much, it was almost midnight before he said his goodbyes and began stumbling back to his room.

~~~~~

Not sure about this update, but I'll look at it later. For now, have some horribly written Demo and Hebbiez.

YOU FILTHY TEASE. HOW DARE YOU ENTERTAIN US WITH CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT WHEN THERE'S A PLOT TWIST DANGLING SO CLOSE IN THE FUTURE. THIS WILL NOT GO UNPUNISHED.

I still love you, though.

Why do you do this?
I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO SCOUT!

I imagine several computers were tossed off the desks just now (but luckily they had spares.) I'm amused from this update! Friggen rollar coaster of anticipation!

Damn it, you just made me throw my laptop off of my roof. I'm pretty sure the warranty doesn't cover Pornographic story cockblocking, so to speak.

BAH. BAH. BAAAAH. WUT HAPPENED TO SCOUT. MY MOUTH FROWNS SO HARD.

Despite leaving us at the cliffhanger, I liked this chapter. There are a few good men on RED, just doing what they have to do, shootin' the shit and trying not to hate themselves for the things they've seen or done. I like those kinds of interactions in war-time settings.

BUT I'VE STILL GOT A FROWNY FACE ON.

TwoRefined:

http://tf2chan.net/gmod/src/131290551142.jpg
Us:

http://tf2chan.net/gmod/src/131290553871.jpg
Everyday he's chucklin'.

My update brings all the boys to the yard.

~~~

Every second ticked by felt more like a needle pushed in until it hit bone. Scout tried to ignore how terrified he really was and just focus on the fact that Engineer would be back in no time.

How long had he been sitting there? He didn’t dare look at the clock.

C’mon – just a little longer and he’ll be back and I’ll be fine and nothing will happen. Come on.

His heart raced.

Nothing to be scared of. Nothing to be scared of…

His brain whirled. He tried to block out the his imagination – to create a blank slate in his mind, but it wasn’t working.

The shadowy specter of his mind would prowl across the floor. His eyes would gleam in satisfaction, and he’d give that horrid, toothy grin. He’d make short work of the lock, and the door to the little prison would swing open. Smoothly. Silently.

Scout closed his eyes. No. No. Shut up. It’s not gonna happen again.

He imagined the horrid feeling of that fine leather against his skin as Spy’s hand closed around his neck. The cool, metallic terror as Spy pressed his gun against his temple. He would say – softly… almost like a gentle croon to a lover – “Do it, and maybe I won’t make your life miserable, mon cher.”

Mocking, horrible, horrible word. Scout didn’t know French, but he knew enough to know that those words Spy called him were not meant for what he did to Scout. Horrible man.

Scout’s heart was pounding in terror now – his breathing restricted and tense. There was no stopping the nightmarish scene from playing out now. He felt paralyzed from his own wicked mind.

That smell again. His breath would smell like Brandy and cigarettes. It made him sick just thinking about it. His thumb would squeeze on Scout’s fragile trachea as his other hand would make short work of the loose clothes Engineer had given him. Scout wouldn’t resist. Spy was so vicious when he was angry.

He’d flip Scout over.

No…

Force him on his knees – even the bad one. He never did it from the front. He didn’t like to be reminded.

Please no… Not again… Don’t…

Press Scout’s face into the pillow. Sobbing as Scout clutched at the sheets and brace himself. He would be shaking. So scared. So scared.

And then the zipper would—

Scout froze. There was someone at the door to the workshop. He was sure of it.

He listened in silent terror as unsure hands fumbled with the lock. Engineer would know what he was doing. It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t be.

Scout froze, holding his breath. As if it would save him if his nightmares were realized. His heart thundered in his chest.

When the door opened and he saw that it was just Engineer, he could have cried. “FUCK, MAN!” he exploded, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. “Longest fucking hour I’ve had in my entire life!”

Engineer leaned on the door frame, grinning like an idiot. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “Time got away from me, there… I had a greeeeat time.”
“Glad to hear it,” Scout muttered with a scowl. “I had a fucking shitty time. But at least ONE of us enjoyed themselves.”

Engineer raised an eyebrow slowly. “Now what’s that attitude for, pardner?”
“You were fucking gone all night. Something could have happened and you wouldn’t have known. Plus, it’s just damn fucking scary. Course I’m pissed!”

Engineer narrowed his eyes. “So, what? I’m not allowed to go out n’ enjoy myself just because you get the willies from being alone? I’m supposed to drop EVERYTHING for ya and spend the rest of my life in this damn room keepin’ ya company?”

Scout paused. “Well, I… I dunno…” he admitted softly.
“Get this straight, kid. This is YOUR prison. Not mine. Now, I’ll do all I can for ya, but I want to live my life, too. Understand?”

Engineer’s voice was stern and a little annoyed, but not aggressive. Scout still winced. “Yeah… I do… Sorry, Hardhat.”
Engineer grunted and exited.

Scout lifted the blanket over his head and wrapped up like it was a cocoon. Everything Engineer said made sense. It wasn’t even unreasonable. Hell, he was a life saver! He was still going to take care of Scout and feed him and protect him, after all. His request – that his life not totally revolve around Scout – was totally understandable.

So why did it still hurt?

~~~

Gotcha.

But what is that silly Spy up to? Tune in next time.

Each update feels like a present! I am just so excited to see how amazing this is turning out. I do think it has been slowing down a bit, but each update is still wonderfully thought out.

I agree with Redd, every update is like Christmas morning for fucked up sadists like m- uhhhh, i mean for people with "special" tastes in pornography... or something like that...

Redd: It has been slowing down. I'll try my best not to bide my time, but the set-up for the next skull-fuck of awesome has to be carefully planned out.

Japan: You really think so? Considering some other stories on the site, I would think this fic is practically vanilla.

Well considering the nature and beginning of this story, and the fact that everybody is expecting/hoping for another Spy rape session, I'll go as far as to say it isn't for the weak of heart. Don't get me wrong I love it and I am eager to see where the story goes next.

http://i53.tinypic.com/x3wx82.jpg

Japan: Yeah, I guess so... I guess it's more emotionally HEAVY than kinky (or gory) in an over-the-top way. Or, at least, I hope so. That's what I was going for.

Ginger: Problem? c:

I've never been much for fanfics but I love this story, ever so much. You're a great writer!

Thank you, Heavy Weapons Ho. It means a lot to me when people that don't really like fanfics still look at mine. Especially now. Been feeling a little discouraged as of late, but you guys are what keep me coming back. Seriously - you guys are awesome.

spy is disguised!
SPY IS DISGUISED!

Aww poor Scout! Great writing

Dude, you and a few other writers have converted me to loving fanfics (when they're good). I follow... 10? 10 fanfics on here but of the ten (no, wait, eleven) yours is one of (if not the one) I most look forward to. When it's at the top of the list I squeal and when I notice it's just a dork like me posting I squirm. So thank you for this!

captcha reads: and profet
Very much related, I believe.

Anyway, this is probably the first fanfic on here that I religiously check for updates. And it seems I am not the only one who does that!

Notice how this shit never happens to Heavy. Usually sniper, spy, or scout.

Well, duh. Sniper, Spy and Scout are the most attractive characters in the game. And Scout is the youngest too.

Sniper, Spy and Scout are the most attractive characters in the game.
FALSE, my good sir. I happen to think Engineer suits my tastes more than anyone else. Soldier and Medic would be a close second.

The real reason why this hardly happens is this: who the fuck would mess with Heavy? Who would try to kidnap him? HOW the fuck would they transport him? By a crane? By a helicopter? I can see Scout being easy to lift, and the same with Sniper and Spy, but transporting, like, 500 pounds of raw muscle and pushin' cushion would be a fucking hassle.

And, again, WHO THE FUCK WOULD MESS WITH HEAVY.

Heavy's not getting off easy, though. He has fucking Medic to worry about (I can hardly count the number of fanfics where he was disemboweled or some shit by Medic), so it's not fair to say he doesn't have his share of the pain.

Just sayin'.

Is it wrong of me to find Heavy attractive? I don't know WHY I find him attractive; I just do.

No, it's not! He's pretty darn sextacular. And he's not even really my type! But lots of great people love Heavy for his sxc bodeh - KGB being the first that comes to mind. DAT WIMEN. MMMMhh.

>>64
>>65

You guys seriously nearly made me cry just now. Can't tell you how much that helped boost my spirits. I was feeling pretty down all day - wasn't sure if people were still checking this thing out or not - aside from my few very loyal readers THAT I APPRECIATE VERY MUCH - Y'ALL KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

But, seriously - you guys are the best - every single one of ya. WHO WANTS HUG.

NEEDS MOAR HUG!

NEEDS MOAR HUGZIEZ.

ALL THE HUGZ FOR YOU!!

This story is fantastic, and I absolutely love you for writing it! Every update is simply amazing, and I'm checking for updates at least a few times a day! I've only rarely posted on the Chan and usually just lurk a lot, but you have my undivided attention!

Thank you for writing this masterpiece!

>>68
That's what I was thinking, who'd want to go to the trouble of messing with Heavy? (I would like to see that sometime though just for morbid curiosity now that I think about it)

>>70
Awww *hugs* Well serves you right for making -us- cry!

69>> I like heavies!

69, I'm with you. I think Heavy is very attractive.

Of course, Medic is at the top of my list, but Heavy is very close behind in second place.

>>69

Heavy takes the top of my list with Engineer and Soldier. Am in complete agreement with you and all the other heavy lovers out there!

Also, all these bumps keep bringing my hopes up. I am in love with this fic and want to see the next installment.

See a bunch of posts It must be an update and a bunch of gushing comments! And then it wasn't Cry

Small plot, big introspection. Hope that'll be enough for you guys. LOVE YA.

~~~

The urge to kill had never been stronger.

Spy watched the stout Texan exit his room, and begin locking his door in an overly convoluted manner. He huffed, nostrils blowing out twin, invisible jets of smoke. Please. As if he’d try to sneak into that mad man’s room – he probably had the place crawling with filthy, deplorable sentries.

Still…

The assassin brushed his thumb against the sharp blade of his butterfly knife almost sensually.

It would be so easy. He wouldn’t hear the sound of his invisibility cloak dropping – not until it was too late. He’d creep up behind him like a terrible angel of death – so silently… The knife would slide in like a thing of beauty – would sever the spine with a sickening crunch.

A one last, shuddering jerk as the muscles in the Texan’s back seized around the foreign object. Blood would gush everywhere – Spy could barely believe he’d once thought of it as something so deplorable; it now had an effect on him that all the money and expensive Italian suits in the world couldn’t buy.

He’d stop the shorter man from screaming – would clamp his gloved hand over his mouth – “Shhh, shhh,” he’d whisper as the man’s knees buckled. He’d press their bodies together, grunt as he drove the blade in deeper, and twisted just for good measure. He’d make Engineer watch, helpless on the floor with his life’s blood gushing out in rich spouts as he’d break into the room and—

“Merde…” Spy hissed, backing away as Engineer suddenly turned around and strolled right past him without a care in the world. He stood still and waited until he was around the corner, then decloaked with a sigh. Too close. He couldn’t let his mind wander like that. There was a disbelieving moan as he realized that his fantasizing had left him with quite an embarrassing erection as well. Damn, he needed to get laid.

He scowled, brushing the worn, rusting metal with his fingertips. How infuriating! Scout – HIS Scout – was naught but a few feet away, and Spy couldn’t even lay an eye on him, much less lay a hand!

A low growl. There was no doubt about it – if brutally murdering Engineer would have been a viable option to get to Scout, he would have without any qualms.

Strike that – even if there were other ways, it’d be the first on his list! Even if he had to endure having to do it with a barbaric weapon like Soldier’s shovel, and risk getting brains in his perfect suit, he would do it.

HE WOULD BEAT THAT NO-GOOD, BOY-STEALING TEXAN TO DEATH IN FRONT OF HIS VERY OWN MOTHER FOR TAKING WHAT WAS HIS.

He sucked on his cigarette as if it were a God-send, and slowly exhaled. He flicked it away and got started on a fresh one.

But there was no use fantasizing. Murder was NOT an option. He was doing this entire charade just so that the stubby little dwarf wouldn’t ruin his reputation. Killing him would only prove to achieve the same feat. – only everyone would be actively PISSED at him for doing it. Especially if he killed one of their best (and favorite, for some inexplicable reason) members just because he wanted to fool around with some boy. He could get in actual, legitimate trouble. Maybe even get fired! Or worse.

A shudder. No, no, no. Scout was worth plenty, but he wasn’t worth that. There had to be another way…

Yes. There WAS another way. It would be difficult, but nothing was beyond Spy’s abilities, he reassured himself. He strode off, carrying himself like a man with a purpose.

After all, he thought, eyes flashing. Everyone… EVERYONE has a dirty little secret just waiting for the right person to stumble across it and show it to the world…

Also, you guys are awesome! I'm gettin' all emotional here n' shiiit.

A THOUSAND HUGS TO ANYONE THE READS AND LIKES AND COMMENTS AND DISLIKES AND COMMENTS OR LURKS OR FAPS. I love you all!

GOOD MORNING

TwoRefined, you are a master of suspense. I will never be able to gush enough for how much I love this fic. It's just like reading a good book except IT'S PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO READ AHEAD. I just love how real you make the characters, while still keeping them, you know, in character. Especially Spy. He's so twisted, yet not in a way that's corny and unrealistic. I can't think of anything I don't like about this story. Never stop writing.

/end gushing

I like this line:

Spy could barely believe he’d once thought of it as something so deplorable;

Shows he used to be a somewhat decent human being. I was imaging earlier that he has a sister he had been really close to, who found out what he had become and disowned him. I hope he doesn't have any family to be ashamed of him or miss him when he's dead. (I know it's a story, but I think like this. I'm weird and I have too much time on my hands.)

I'll be patiently waiting for the next update! (And still holding out for a happy ending)

Ginger: ilu.... (call me) I love that everyone likes (or, at the very least, loves to hate) Spy, because he's probably one of the most... deplorably EVIL characters I've ever written. Sometimes I worry that I'm too over-the-top with his EEEEEVILNESS, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Good for me!

Chess: Usually, I'd leave this sort of thing up to interpretation. But I think you kind of missed a pretty big point there: Spy used to think blood was deplorable because it stained badly. ( As in his taunt line, "You got blood on my suit!" ) There was no real symbolism or emotional input involved.
I thought that'd be good to mention because I want to make it clear that Spy is NOT a good (maybe not even decent!) human being, and probably never was. Was he a slightly-less-horrible human being? Yeah. But that's asking, does bacon grease have SLIGHTLY less fat content in it than a tub of lard? Yes. But it'll still fuck up your arteries.

I'll go ahead and say that when I mean Spy is the most fucking evil character I've made, I REALLY MEAN IT. I'm usually a big fan of the whole, "Who's the real monster" type trope, and making really complex villain characters with past lives that explains their motives, and are really actually good guys if looked at from the right angle...

No. Spy is not that kind of character. He's dynamic, yes, and complex, but he's just a shitty human being, and you are meant to hate him AS MUCH AS YOU ARE PHYSICALLY ABLE. And, trust me. By the time I'm done with you, you will.

Spy's like the ultimate creeper, like this scary loaded gun with a twitchy finger on the trigger.
It's like he's constantly stuck in 2 different states.
He either cannot operate to his maximum potential because he's so distracted with his greed and lust for blood and pleasure, or he concentrates ALL his powers into getting the boy and making Engie suffer horrifically for it.
He's barely qualifies as human anymore, just this mad, obsessed shadow of himself.

Scout is entirely justified for his fearful paranoia, and I'm scared Engie, as much as he's trying to help so far, isn't nearly being careful enough. If Engie doesn't raise his guard higher, then I'm afraid that Spy's little fantasy will come true.

Have I told you that I love this story and check for updates religiously?

>>83
You're right, I totally misread it! My mistake. I tend to be an optimist

(I thought it meant he thought stabbing someone was deplorable. I was kinds surprised by that, now I feel stupid)

>>84 It is scary how much you've hit the nail on the head, there. Scary, I tell you. God bless you, wonderful anon. ilu

>>85
>>86
Don't worry about that! If you misunderstood, it's almost 100% my fault. Hopefully too many people won't trip up over that, but in any case, it's been revised, and will be good as new upon re-re-uploading.

This story never fails to keep me on the edge of my seat.

Also, I really, really hope something horrible happens to Spy for a change. I know it's probably false hope, but I still would love to see him suffer after all he's done.

You did a great job at creating such an utterly despicable character.

you are meant to hate him AS MUCH AS YOU ARE PHYSICALLY ABLE. And, trust me. By the time I'm done with you, you will.
ohyesssss
i can't wait

GRAH, THIS FIC JUST MAKES ME BITE MY NAILS AND YELL AT MY POOR COMPUTER SCREEN.I keep laughing thinking about a showdown between Engineer and Spy. "This Scout ain't big enough fer the both of us."

Did you enjoy the mini-lock down? Good! Here's something I whipped up while I was waiting for the Chan to start back up. See? Locks are good things!

~~~~~~

It was hard guessing when Scout was going to speak or not. He’d be quietly staring up at the ceiling one second, and the next, he’d say some offhand comment. Engineer wasn’t quite sure he liked it. He preferred his people like he preferred his machines: predictable.

Today he was treated to the statement, “Ya know what? I don’t even care anymore. As soon as I’m outta this hell hole, I’m quitting this war.” A humorless smirk. “I mean… Assuming I make it outta here.” He laughed as if he’d cracked a joke.
Engineer gave an uncomfortable smile of his own. He put aside his guitar slowly, as if it were rigged with explosives. “Y’don’t say? Why’s that? I thought ya liked yer time over there with them BLU fellahs.”

“Yeah. I guess I did,” the kid muttered. “But I… I just can’t anymore, man. I’ll be fucking lucky to walk without a limp after this.” A pause. “And, even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’m fighting for this rich, old fag that just wants piles of dirt. He don’t care about me. He don’t care about none of us. Fuck – he doesn’t even know our names.” His little rant picked up in speed and intensity as he continued to ramble on. “We’re like… like, faceless soldiers to him, man! It’s like we’re fuckin’ bees and he’s the queen just sittin’ there all fat on honey and shit! All he wants is more fuckin’ honey, and if I fuckin’ rot in this shithole, it’s just one more fuckin’ number down the drain for him!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Engineer cried, trying to sooth the boy. “Just calm down there, pardner—”

“NO, I FUCKING WON’T!!!” Scout exploded, thrashing about on his tiny bed with rage. “God fucking DAMN it!!! I was so STUPID! What the fuck was I thinking, taking this fucking job?! How the FUCK did I end up here, fucking crippled as HELL, without a fucking single person in the next ten miles that gives a SHIT about me?!”

Engineer watched as the kid screamed profanity and pounded his mattress with his balled up fists and kicked out fruitlessly with his good leg. He carried on this way for about five minutes, until his screams of rage finally gave way to wails of grief. He curled up into a little ball, screaming as much as he wanted and sobbing and pounding his fist into his pillow over and over again.

After it was all done – after the screams had quieted to muffled sobs, and he was curled up, weighed down by his despair to the point of motionless – Engineer entered the little cage, and sat on the bed. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the kid into a tight, comforting hug. He could ignore his own discomfort to make this poor soul feel a little better, after all. Couldn’t be good for him, just constantly being watched through the bars of a cage like an animal.

There was a sigh. “C’mon, kid… That’s not true…” Another pause as he carefully considered what to say next. He settled on an awkward, but obviously heartfelt, “I care about you. Okay? I do.”

Scout sniffed a few times. His pride wanted him to push the older man away and gnash his teeth at him, but he couldn’t. Hell if this wasn’t good for him. Yeah – he needed it. A lot.

After a moment of just taking in the sensation of actually having human contact, the boy finally asked, “How much?” His voice was raw and weak.
This caught Engineer by surprise. “Uh… Well… I don’t rightly know.“ A pause. “But I reckon it’s a lot.”
Scout shot him a suspicious look. “You sure?”
“Dead certain.”
Scout cracked a small smile. “Well, alright. Thanks, man.”

Scout suddenly began jabbering about what he’d do after he quit, as if moment wasn’t totally weird and awkward at all. Engineer admired his fortitude to do so.

“I ain’t gonna move back in with my ma, though. I mean, I might… Maybe just for a while – I miss ‘er and stuff – but I ain’t gonna stay for long. Maybe I’ll be one of them wanderin’ musicians, yanno? I always wanted t’play the trumpet. I gotta brother that’s in a band – I ever tell you that? He don’t make much money, but he stays outta trouble. I think I’ll be like that.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Engineer responded idly with a nod. Well, it was better than him screaming and crying or being really, inhumanly quiet. Still, was it too much to ask that not all Scouts talk so much?

“An’ what about you?”
“Eh?” Engineer blinked. “What was that?”
“What about you? What do you plan on doin’ after the war?” the Scout asked again.
Silence. Engineer thought frantically as Scout sat and waited. Damn. Seemed like he actually wanted a legitimate answer.

“Well…” the man drawled, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “I… don’t know.”
“You don’t know? What’s that supposed to mean?” Scout wrinkled his nose as if that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard the man say.
“Well, just that,” Engineer huffed moodily. “I don’t know.”
“Why not?”
“Well…” Engineer tilted his head back staring up at the ceiling. “Guess I never thought about it.”

Another pause.

“Guess I just… kinda figured I’d be fightin’ this war forever.”

---

“Hey, fellas. What are ya thinkin’ about doin’ after th’war?”

Tuesday again. Demoman, Heavy, and Engineer were all sitting out under the stars, drinking and talking. Engineer kept running Scout’s question again, over and over in his head. He was interested in knowing what his pals had to say on the issue.

Heavy hummed softly. “Vill probably go to cold country. Like Russia. But not Russia. Maybe Canada. Spend days being nice to Sasha and build tiny houses. Birds like.”
A laugh. “Didn’t know ya had it in ya, big guy!” Engineer chuckled, patting the huge man’s shoulder.
Heavy frowned at him. “Do not laugh. I like birds. Can do. Does not make me baby.”
“Of course, Aleksey,” the short man replied, stifling the rest of his laughter with a snort. “I didn’t mean t’laugh. You got every right t’like what ya like, and it don’t emasculate ya none.”
A grunt. The huge man went back to sipping his fine tea.

“An’ what about you, Alasdair?” Engineer asked, taking another casual swig of his beer. “What are you plannin’ on doing?”
The Scot laughed. “Well, that’s an easy one, lad! I’d find another war an’ join it, and I’d fight ‘til I don’t have an eye left t’see with!”
“And you?” Heavy rumbled quietly.

Engie took a deep breath. “Can’t be sure… I personally cain’t wait to get outta this hellhole, but… the thought of never seein’ you fellers again… It’s a right scary one,” the man admitted quietly. “So even if we do go our separate ways… Y’think it’d be outta th’question t’ask that… Shoot, I dunno…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “We… still meet up every now an’ again?”

There was a thoughtful silence. Then, Heavy lifted his cup in a toast. “Is good idea. Da, I agree.”
“Yeh – tha’s a bloody great idea, it is!” Demoman agreed, smiling and raising his bottle of Scrumpy, as well. “Coount me in, lads!”
Engineer beamed happily, and raised his bottle of Red Oak, as well. “Then it’s settled. Cheers t’us, fellahs. In hopes that, no matter where life takes us, somehow we’ll manage to meet up again.”

Clink.

---

Finally.

It’d taken days of waiting. Of carefully preparing.

Spy knew he didn’t have long. The huge, lumbering, American sociopath would be back any minute, and this area was strictly off limits. Even for him. He’d have to find what he needed, get it, and get out.

Casually, he clutched the flashlight between his teeth like a cigar and got down to business. He made short work of the lock to the filing cabinet and slid it open as silently as he could manage. He began running his deft hands over all the folders.

Not there.

Cursing, he closed it again, and began picking another lock. He glanced at his watch. How much time did he have? Another heavy cabinet slid open. Spy fingered through all of the folders once more, eyes darting around nervously. Still nothing he could use.

He hissed like a feral animal. Where were they? Where WERE they?! He didn’t have time for this! His eyes glanced at his wristwatch. He’d try one more. If it wasn’t in there, he would have to wait to strike another time.

Nothing. He was disappointed, but he knew it wasn’t over. He’d be back. He’d be back as many times as it took.

There was a flicker as Spy put away his flashlight, and took a moment to light up. Then, the tiny flame was extinguished, and Spy was gone.

JUST WHAT ARE YOU UP TO SPY?
What would he be looking through files for? Blackmail? Blueprints? Cigarettes that Soldier confiscated from him? Pictures of Scout's Mom?
(Now that I look back at previous chapters, it's most likely blackmail material. But that just gets me all curious as to what sort of skeletons would be hiding in Engie's closet? It's frickin Engie, would he even have any skeletons in his closet?)

I like how you have Scout trying his best to plug through his traumatic experience by babbling about nonsensical things then suddenly mood swing through hysterics.
It may at first seem OOC, but given his situation, he was entirely justified for his breakdown and I don't blame him one damn bit. It's a wonder it hadn't happened sooner.
He'd be the type to hate the silence and try to think of something other than what happened to him, only to inevitably loop back to the experience.

But poor Engie for having to put up with it all, especially with Scout asking uncomfortable questions, but it's nice to see that he puts up with it all because he genuinely does care.
For all the shit that's happened to them both, it was extremely heartwarming despite the awkwardness to read Engie saying that.

>>92
I have been worried about Scout's mom myself. As for Blackmail material, I always think of this: http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/File:Engineercomic13.jpg
Sure it's the blu engi but whatever.

More great writing as usual Two!

#92: Yeah - Scout is more than a little disturbed. The main reason he hadn't done that earlier is because he's the type of guy to hate admitting weakness, and just thinking about what he went through hurt so much he'd rather avoid it all together. But some things just don't work like that. Some things you can't just lock away and forget about forever - especially mental and emotional trials.

Another factor was Engineer himself. He's been a little wary about diving in head first with Scout - he doesn't know how to HANDLE crap like this with torture and rape and their repercussions and FEEELINGS... He works with machines. That's all. Everything else to him is like... It's like asking a marine biologist to become a lawyer for a day. Doesn't translate very well, if at all. Doesn't help that getting emotionally attached to Scout just... isn't a good idea at ALL. So, yeah. Not the guy you'd want to open up to. But I guess Engie just decided... "Screw it - I'm already this deep into the mess." We'll see how that plays out later.


Chess: Thank you! I'm glad you're liking things so far.

>>94

It's like asking a marine biologist to become a lawyer for the day.
As a marine biology student, I can heartily agree with that statement. Poor Engie.

Holy god, I love this fic so much.
Everything is just perfect. I love every update!
Please, Don't stop!
Also!
Mind If I draw a little doodle based on this?

Feather: Yeah, he's an awkward lil' ol' man, but he'll get past it, I guess. I mean, he already kind of has.

#96:
Mind If I draw a little doodle based on this? MIND IF I DRAW A LITTLE DOODLE BASED ON THIS? DRAW A LITTLE DOODLE BASED ON THIS
FUCK NO, I DON'T MIND! I'd be HONORED! Lemme see when you're finished!

Fucking beautiful update. I love this fic more than I've loved any other.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING SPY. I NEED TO KNOW

Orlight, Here I Gooooo!
http://img23.imagesh_ack.us/img23/7461/breakingpointh.png


Just take off that underscore between 'sh' and 'ac'!
Hope that works!

And jeez, i feel a little nervous.

99
Um, hi, I think you should stay here and draw things more often, yup.

And I can't wait for the next chapter.