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Nights were always hard for Sniper. He lay in his bed, thinking about everything he could be doing. He could be out practicing his aim, he’s noticed he’s been missing more than usual lately. He could be out talking to someone from the team, he knows the Medic and the Engineer are usually up late. He could be up talking to Scout, he knows the boy likes him and that he would love to talk to Sniper.
But he’s not. He’s laying in bed, thinking about what he could be doing. And feeling bad that he’s not doing it. He sighs and rolls over, looking out the window in his camper. He tries to close his eyes and sleep, but it doesn’t come to him. He sits up and slams his hand down on his bed in anger. What can he do? He can’t sleep. He can’t talk to the others without bringing the mood down. He can’t enjoy himself without feeling bad.
Tonight was worse than usual. He’d run out of his medication a while ago and never bothered to ask Medic for more. He supposes that’s finally starting to hurt him. He feels so alone. So broken, like he has nothing left for him. He’s tried to kill himself before, but he did it on weekdays, when respawn was on. He felt peaceful when he died and for those few seconds before he respawned.
But that doesn’t help him now. Of course, it is the weekend, he figures repawn should be off. Realizing this made him happier than he’s felt in weeks. He knows what he has to do. He’s not being useful to the team, with how much he’s been missing and he’s certainly not being useful to himself. As the Spy says, he lives in a van. Shouldn’t he be ashamed of himself? He’s not doing anything for the team, constantly isolating himself and bringing down the mood if he tries to talk to anyone.
He knows he shouldn’t do this- hurt himself how he’s planning to. But what else can he do? He feels useless just sitting here and he knows he’ll feel useless no matter what he does. He’s given up a long time ago, he feels awful just sitting here. Recently, the only things he’s had energy for are hurting himself or getting up for work. And there are times he can barely get the energy to go to work.
Begrudgingly, he gets up and immediately winces at his blankets running over the cuts on his arms and thighs. He’s this close to giving up altogether and laying back down until he starves to death. But he musters up the energy to get up, knowing this is the last time he’ll have to deal with any of this. Last time he’ll have to worry about anyone seeing his cuts, or yell at him to “do better” and stop being so lazy. He sighs and stands up, putting a hand on the wall to steady himself and let the dizziness pass.
He knows he can’t take this anymore. Everything is always too much. He’s constantly overwhelmed and he doesn’t know how to fix it other than going to the extremes. Of course, he’s not scared to do this. He thinks of his options, he could hang himself, throw himself off of something, or shoot himself. He pauses as he scans the room and his eyes land on his SMG. He sighs and stumbles over to it, a headache beginning to form all over his head. He grips his head as he falls to the floor next to the gun. He reaches for it and thinks for a moment.
He thinks about everything he won’t be able to experience anymore. He’ll never get to see a sunset again, laugh with the team again, or feel the hopelessness he feels almost every day. At this point, he’s almost gotten used to the fact that everyone’s going to leave him at some point and that everything has to end. The thought that everything will be a distant memory at some point, everything other than how he feels, is one of the most horrifying thoughts to him. He also thinks of the fact that he may never get to experience someone holding him and loving him the way he wants people to. He wants to be loved and comforted and cared for, but who could love him? Something’s wrong with him. And he doesn’t know how to fix it.
Well- he can think of one way to fix it. That way is ending it all. Then, he won’t have to worry about the future, the present, or the past anymore. He bangs his head against the wall of the camper and tells himself to get on with it. Waiting isn’t going to change anything other than prolonging how awful he feels. He feels so hopeless, he’s been to Medic, and he’s been dismissed by Medic. If the one person who is supposed to know how to help him dismisses him, is he really capable of being saved? He grabs the SMG and makes sure it’s loaded. Of course it is, he put it there in the first place in case of an intruder, it’s never been used for that purpose. Who would want to see him?
He groans and sits up properly. He awkwardly prompts the gun up so the barrel is up against his chin. He shivers at the thought of this going wrong. He maneuvers it so that it’s settled resting on his throat and pressing up against his chin. He sighs and leans into the cold feeling of the gun. He rests his finger on the trigger and thinks for one final moment. What will his teammates think when they see him? They’ll know it was a suicide. There’s no denying it with the angle of the gun and the fact he’s alone in his camper, no sign of a break-in. They see people dying almost every day. What’s one more person? They can easily find a new Sniper so this won’t affect the team much.
He hangs his head and makes sure the gun is properly positioned. He makes sure it’s aimed toward his brain and then gets upset at himself for taking too long, insulting himself internally he angrily presses the trigger, squeezing his eyes shut.
Boom. Headshot.
The first thing he feels is the heat of it all. The familiar feeling of a bullet to the head. And then nothing. He slumps to the floor and goes limp. The sound of the gunshot echoes through the night air, probably alerting someone inside. The team probably assumes it’s from the enemy team, and the enemy team probably can't even hear it, not that they'll care. No one’s going to find him for a while. Of course, he’s isolated himself this much, no one’s going to be concerned if they don’t see him for days at a time. If Medic cares enough, maybe he’ll notice the cuts on Sniper, the obviously self-inflicted ones. But for now, none of this is worrying Sniper. For the first time in forever, everything is quiet in his mind.