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Scout didn't know what she was expecting to find when she went snooping in Medic's personal fridge, but a disembodied (and somehow still alive??) head was not on the list. It didn't even make the list. There wasn't even a list for it to make, but if there was, a disembodied Spy head would not have made the list.
"Whaaaat the fuck…?" Scout murmured, crouching and leaning closer, spurred on by the kind of curiosity that kept you staring at a car crash, even as the metal twisted and shrieked and a body went flying through the windshield. She was greatly disturbed, horrified even, but she couldn't tear her gaze away.
Droopy gray-blue eyes, red with tiredness and bruised with eyebags, gazed despondently at Scout. His skin was sallow, stretched over his face like he had neither slept nor eaten for days (…could he eat or sleep?). That, combined with thin lips, a haggard complexion, and the bone-deep exhaustion clear to see on his face (Spy's face, nonetheless, a man normally as readable as a blank stone wall), disturbed Scout more than anything else. More than the feeling of her bones dissolving, more than the frantic flapping of a dove trapped inside her ribcage.
As much as she disliked both versions of the man, it was wrong to see him so helpless. Scout felt a brief surge of nausea and absently hoped she wasn't gonna hurl. That would be really embarrassing, especially since she could handle gore and viscera no problem on the battlefield.
"…Kill me." The head rasped, in a voice that hadn't tasted water in days. Scout clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling an 'urp'.
He was asking her to kill him. God, he was practically begging for a mercy kill. Spy never asked for anything, much less begged. Fuck. What had Medic done to him? And if it was as bad as she suspected, who the hell was Scout to deny him a long-awaited escape?
"No- no freakin' problem, man. Geez, how long've ya been in here?" She stammered, reaching in and pulling the Spy head out of the fridge. Upon a closer look, Scout noticed that the severed stump of his neck was attached to something mechanical. There was a little circular red light, a few buttons, and a compartment in the back for something (batteries? cigarettes? Scout didn't know).
"I'm assuming this little thingamajiggy is keepin' you alive, yeah? D'ya know what da buttons do?" Scout questioned half-heartedly as she exited the Medbay, looking around nervously for any sign of Medic. None. Good. (She didn't want him to know it was she who'd stolen the Spyhead: knowing what Medic was capable of and more than willing to do, it was safer for her if he never found out.)
The Spyhead in her hands sighed, sounding so tired, and a twinge of pity shot through Scout's chest.
"Non, I do not."
Scout jogged through the various twisting and turning halls of the RED base, her thoughts racing faster than her feet. Spy was mostly quiet until she reached a little-used section of the base, a good distance from the Medbay.
"Where are you taking me, ma lapin?" He asked, his voice hoarse from disuse.
Scout opened her mouth to respond, but was almost immediately cut off by footsteps approaching from around the corner, accompanied by loud chatter. She winced, clapping a hand over Spy's mouth and frantically looking around for a hiding place. Thankfully, she spotted a service closet nearby and hurriedly ducked into it. Without a moment to spare, the footsteps of her team's Demo and Soldier stomped by, the two friends shouting cheerfully at each other about something or other. Only after they were gone did Scout relax, huffing a stressed sigh and dropping her head against the closet door with a soft thunk.
"Whew, cuttin' it a little close there." She murmured, finally taking her hand off the Spy head's mouth. He didn't comment, merely shooting her a snooty little glare. Good to know he still had snark.
"Are you going to kill me or non?" The Spy head asked. Scout pulled the little string light above her head, then set Spy down on the floor and dropped into a crisscross sitting position opposite him.
"Actually, I wanted to ask ya somethin'. Do da other BLUs know yer here?" She questioned, plopping her head into her hands.
The Spy sighed, drooping on his little pedestal like a wilting flower. "I do not know. I have been in that fridge for a very long time, ma lapin. It is possible they think I simply vanished into thin air."
Scout nodded, sighing. "Thought so. If dey think ya deserted, dey mighta kicked yer Respawn privileges." And then if I shot you, you'd be really dead, she didn't say, but she thought it, and the silence was very loud.
The Spy head pursed his lips, looking resigned. "Indeed. However, I would much rather choose your bullet over that fridge. So, if you don't mind…"
Scout held up a hand, and miraculously, he shut up. "Hold it, dummy, those ain't da only two options 'ere." Spy raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Scout tactfully ignored him, continuing. "No reason to freakin' perma-kill ya if I can just getcha back t' yer base, right? So, let's getcha back t' yer base!"
Spy blinked at her. She blinked back, he blinked, she blinked twice, he blinked a third time, and then she winked, which startled him enough to start talking: "What? Non. No. No, you are horrible at sneaking. My teammates will kill you on sight."
Scout shrugged cheerfully, grinning with all her teeth. "Well, I can Respawn, so it's fine. Might break yer nose if I drop ya, but den y'can just call fer help, right? Ya won't need me after I getcha dere."
Spy huffed one short, irritated sigh. "But why? Why are you doing this? I am your enemy. I kill you and your team for a living. This makes no sense. You make no sense." He exclaimed, and Scout chewed her lip, turning words over in her mind as she tried to formulate a response.
"Look, pally, I know, okay? I know. I ain't dumb, I know it don't make any freakin' sense t' help you, so don't ask me why, okay? I just…… Ya just said yerself, ya'd rather die than go back dere, right? Ya been in dere fer ages. An' well, dat sucks balls. Dat sucks major balls, an'… an' I don't think ya deserved dat. I don't think anyone deserves dat. An' since ya didn't deserve dat, ya sure as hell don't deserve t' die right after ya went through all dat, okay? Permanent or no." Scout explained, fiddling with the fraying string on her shorts.
Spy didn't comment, so she continued.
"So… so I'm gonna help ya. Since yer team can't, or dunno how, an' since my team probably won't, or they'll just shoot ya, an' I weren't da best at schoolin', but I can count, so I know dat don't really leave anyone else. So, I'll help ya. Cuz there ain't anybody else."
Spy continued to stay silent, and Scout fiddled harder, running the string harshly through her fingertips and hunching her shoulders. Why did he have to be so freakin' judgy all the time, even when he wasn't talking?
"It's not cuz I like ya, cuz I don't, yer a freaking rat an' a prick an' yer annoyin' an' smug, an' yer RED version's always freakin' pickin' on me an' I'm sure yer no freakin' better t' yer Scout, but excuse me fer wantin' t' be a decent human bein', okay! Fer freakin' once." Scout exclaimed defensively. "I know ya don't like me, trust me, it's mutual, an'- sorry, what'd ya say? Missed it."
Spy cleared his throat with shifty eyes darting everywhere but Scout, and he seemed… well, he seemed almost nervous. "I said that… you are admirably honorable. Your team is lucky to have you and your family… doubly so."
Scout didn't miss the somewhat dejected tone of his voice. There was something that he wasn't saying or something that Scout wasn't understanding. He looked incredibly pathetic, though, so she didn't push it. Maybe she'd try and grill her own Spy at some point. "Thanks, pally. I'm lucky to have my team. Now, let's go an' getcha back to yer's, yeah?"
With that, Scout scooped him off the ground, stood up, swept open the door to the service closet, and was on her way in two beats of a rabbit's heart.
It was embarrassingly easy to avoid everyone on the way out of the base; all Scout had to do was go through a few back hallways, and presto-sendo, she was outside the RED base. She did offhandedly think about maybe trying to avoid the cameras, but what would've been the point? The ones in the Medbay had totally seen her, and if the Head Honcho Lady already knew, well, why try and hide it? Scout was gonna get punished either way (plus, maybe the Lady would send Miss Pauling, and that was always at least a partial win in Scout's book).
"Alrighty. Now, which way's da BLU base?" Scout asked once they were well outside the RED base, with bare desert in every direction and the sun slowly sloping down towards the horizon.
"If you could lift me a bit, s'il te plaît. Ah, merci. We are on the other side of the battlefield, so start heading that way, and I will direct you from there." Spy explained.
Scout grinned, tucked him securely into the crook of her arm, and started jogging. "Gotcha."
For a solid few minutes, neither spoke. Scout focused on running, breathing evenly, the pounding of her feet against the firm, dry ground, the feeling of the wind in her hair, and the sun against her skin. She loved New Mexico in the fall. The weather was more unpredictable than a scared mouse, but in between the sleet and rain and random snowstorms, there were some pretty nice days, and that day seemed to be one of them. The sun was alone in the sky, and a nice cool breeze kept the overbearing heat at bay. Beautiful, and perfect running weather.
Scout really did love sunshine. Boston wasn't exactly known for its cloudless skies, so it had come as a bit of a shock to see nothing but blue in every direction when she'd arrived. It was a change she quickly got used to, however, and she reveled in the Badlands' clear air, its open space and warm light, unblocked sight as far as the eye could see. Nothing like Boston, with its cramped little apartments, crowded streets, and buildings spearing the sky in every direction. Scout had never realized she'd felt claustrophobic before until Team Fortress, but now? She couldn't imagine going back to the city.
"Where'd ya live, Spy, 'fore alla dis? France?" She asked, not really expecting an answer. She was pleasantly surprised when he responded.
"Non. France is my home country, but I have not properly lived there for many years." The Spy head responded from her elbow.
Scout hummed. "Ya miss it?"
Spy was silent for a few moments before he answered. "It depends."
Scout knew an intentionally vague answer when she heard one. The rat probably felt uncomfortable answering so many questions in a row.
"I miss home too. 'Specially my Ma. She gives da best hugs, man, an' I ain't had one in ages." She fell silent, a bit of guilt tugging in her chest as she remembered how long it'd been. "I gotta visit 'er soon."
Spy hummed, and they fell silent again. They'd reached the battlefield by that point, and it was very strange to see it so empty. No guns spraying bullets, no explosions, no sound other than the lonely wind whistling through the little bowl. It was still a long run to the BLU base, but they were around halfway there.
"Take a rest, ma fille. You have been running long." Spy urged.
Scout scoffed, wondering if she should feel offended. "Ya kiddin'? I could literally do this all day, pally. I do do this all day. Dis 'ere's my job. Plus, you're easy to carry 'round, y' weigh less den da suitcase."
"Still. You have earned a moment."
She could have argued. If it was her Spy, and he was more than a head, she would've torn him "a whole new behind", as Engie so liked to put it, for daring to suggest she needed a break. However, Spy was no more than a head. He hadn't eaten or slept in weeks and barely had the energy to speak, much less actively insult her. If he was suggesting she break, it was he who needed one.
So she stopped and set him down, lowering herself into a crisscross, once again opposite him. Now that she thought about it, he was probably getting motion sick from bouncing up and down in the crook of her elbow.
"Merci, ma fille," Spy murmured, his eyelids drooping tiredly. Scout bit her lip as she noticed the worrying pallor of his face.
"Ya doin' alright, pally? Ya don't look so hot." She asked. Spy took a generous few seconds to respond, and her alarm grew. This wasn't like him. This wasn't like him at all.
"Menteur, j'ai toujours chaud," Spy muttered. Great. More French.
"I dunno what yer sayin'!" Scout exclaimed. She reached out and plucked him from the ground, then paused. Acting on a long-distant memory of her mother, she reached out and hesitantly brushed the back of her hand across Spy's forehead. Even through the fabric of his mask, she could tell it was worryingly cool, much colder than it was supposed to be. "Shit, man, yer freakin' freezing! We gotta getcha t' yer team!" She shot to her feet and frantically scanned the horizon for the BLU base. "Which, uh…"
"Nord." Spy helpfully supplied.
"Gonna assume you meant north."
It was a lot harder to get lost in running this time around. The slowly increasing chill of Spy's skin seemed to burn in the crook of Scout's arm, and it was hard to focus on anything else. It reminded her of a long, long time ago, when she was six years old and her Ma had gotten sick.
She had been too warm then, sweating and flushed, but she'd shivered as if she were freezing. Scout remembered how Ma had gotten dizzy and almost fallen over while trying to do the dishes. Her oldest brother, Mikey, took the day off from school to nurse her. She remembered how scary it had been to see her Ma, the person she depended on for everything, so helpless.
Bizarrely, Spy reminded Scout of her sick mother, no matter how different the situations were. Except this time, she could do something to help him.
"J'ai le vertige…" Spy mumbled, his eyes drooping closed. Scout patted his cheek roughly with her free hand, eyes fixed on the path.
"Hey, wakey wakey, dummy. Can't fall asleep, we ain't even there yet."
He didn't respond. Scout tried not to panic. It didn't work.
The outside of the BLUs' base looked almost identical to her own team's base, just… mirrored, if that made sense. The walls were a similar drab gray, but a cooler tone than RED's (which… made sense). The door was the same pull-up garage style, but on a different side of the wall. The Sniper's scope poked out of the same-shaped window as always, but it was to the left of the door instead of to the right. Quite frankly, it was super weird.
Scout held the Spy head in sight of the Blu Sniper's scope, waving her hat over her head to (hopefully) signal that she came in peace. He didn't immediately shoot her, so that was something.
Now that she was facing the door, she wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. Should she like… knock? Barge in unannounced? That seemed like a surefire way to get her head blown off, not everyone was as willing to wait and see before shooting as Sniper was (cough cough Soldier). She didn't want to wait, though; Spy's breathing was growing more unsteady and ragged by the moment. He needed help now.
Scout tried to key in the RED base code, but it didn't work. On a wild hunch, she keyed it in backwards and the lock clicked, the garage door whirring to life.
We should probably change our password, if it's as easy as just typin' it backwards. Scout mused guiltily, shifting her weight nervously across the balls of her feet. She winced as the garage door creaked, shrieked, and groaned open. Welp, they definitely know I'm here now, if they didn't before.
When the door was fully open, Scout hesitated for a moment, debating over whether or not to walk inside, but she eventually decided to stay put. Someone would have heard her, gone to investigate, and their finding her outside rather than inside would (hopefully) give her an opportunity to explain herself before they killed her.
Sure enough, a lone individual in a bright blue shirt came around the corner, a scattergun held defensively in his grip, and a venomous scowl fixed on his face (his very, very familiar face; the face Scout sees every morning when she tries not to look in the mirror). The Blu Scout was here, and he did not look happy.
Stay cool. Scout reminded herself frantically. He'll talk before he shoots. Both of us always do.
"What're ya doin' here, Red?" The Blu demanded flatly, very obviously leveling his gun at her—a threat. Intimidation. Yeah, Scout's got this.
"Found dis guy in Doc's fridge. Dunno why or fer how long, but he wasn't lookin' too good. Didn't know if yer fellas shut down his Respawn, so I figgered, better t' be on da safe side." Scout explained as neatly as she could, holding out the Spy head.
The Blu Scout's eyes widened upon seeing him, and he took a half-step before aborting the motion, whipping his gaze back up to glare daggers at Scout. "What'd ya do to 'im?"
Scout blinked, uncomprehending. "Say dat again?"
"Ya heard me, dumbass! What'd ya do to 'im? Ya beheaded 'im, yer showin' me 'is dead head, what else didja fuckin' do?!" The Blu shouted, gesturing with his scattergun, his mouth twisted in a violent sneer. His knuckles were white with tension, the skin stretched so tightly over bone that it was nearly transparent.
A flash of understanding hit Scout with the force of a train. Ohhh, he thinks I killed Spy. Shit, how do I fix this.
"Woah, no, I didn't do anythin', geez. Could ya maybe take two seconds an' just chill out?" Scout exclaimed, lifting her free hand and slowly sinking into a crouch to set the passed-out Spy head on the ground. Once he was out of her hands, she backed away quickly. "I didn't kill da dude, hell, last I checked, he was still alive. The RED Medic did somethin' to him, an' he was alive an' awake da whole way here. Don't ask me how, I don't got a freakin' clue."
The Blu Scout paused, looking down at the Spyhead even as he kept his gun trained on Scout. "He's alive?"
"'S far as I know. He was lookin' pretty pale though, so ya should take 'im to yer Medic 's soon as ya can."
The Blu Scout's scowl melted away, and he relaxed his hold on the gun, studying Scout with an unreadable expression. "Ya… ya brought 'im back. Ya got 'im outta dere an' brought 'im back."
Scout shuffled in place, uncomfortable with his sudden lack of hostility. "Well, yeah. 'S not like I could just leave 'im in dere, wouldn't wish dat on freakin' anyone. An' no one else knew 'e was dere, so-"
"Thank you." Blu cut her off, his voice hoarse and eyes shining. "Just… thank you."
Scout relaxed, smiling. "Sure thing."
And that was that.
Two weeks later, Scout ran past a sapped sentry still alight with sparking voltage, and she couldn't contain a small grin at Engie's irritated grumbling:
"There's a Spy creepin' around 'ere!"
Later that same match, Scout felt an invisible tug on her shirt sleeve in the direction of a conveniently dark, out-of-the-way corner between buildings. Scout followed the draw without protest, and though a little part of her nervously expected a knife between her shoulder blades, she had a gut feeling that she wasn't in any danger (a rare occurrence in her line of work).
The moment they were hidden from sight, the Blu Spy flickered into view; hidden in the shadow of a large crate, so he was barely visible even when uncloaked. Scout snorted, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing aloud. Hiding in the shadows, even when no one can see him. Dork.
"Hey dere, shifty." She greeted, her face spread in a bright and toothy grin.
"Bonjour, Scout," Spy answered, his voice soft. When the Blu didn't make a move to leave the shadows, Scout stepped closer, her grin faltering.
"Yer okay, right? Okay-ish?" She asked, scanning his masked face for any sign of pain or distress (not that a Spy would willingly show weakness like that, but hey, she was worried, give her a break).
"Oui. As you can see, my head has been successfully reattached to my shoulders," Spy paused, and despite her instinctive desire to talk, Scout kept her mouth shut and waited for him to finish. "Thanks to you."
Scout looked down bashfully, on instinct, and her eyes caught on a slip of white paper peeking out from behind his dark gloves. As if he'd anticipated this, he held it out for her to take. Scout did so, and as soon as she had the paper in hand, the Blu Spy cloaked, vanishing in a puff of smoke.
"A parting gift, ma lapin. For your kindness." His voice murmured, and while she heard no footsteps, a little cloud of dust puffed up with every footfall, and led out of the alleyway until they disappeared from view.
Scout stared after him, then looked down at the paper, then shrugged and stuck it in her pocket. She'd look at it after work. And with that, she turned on her heel and reentered the fray, putting all thoughts of the Blu Spy from her mind.
As a thank you for rescuing me from that hellhole, I would like to give you a helpful hint for a puzzle that you are doubtless unaware of.
Your Spy is hiding an important piece of information from you, one that I believe you deserve to know. It is not my place to tell you what it is, but I can give you a hint: There is a reason your Spy acts the way he does, and it is not the reason you think. No Spy hates his Scout.
I shall leave you to figure it out, ma fille.
Burn this note after you read it. We would not want anyone to find out about our little adventure, now would we?
And if that little note rotates in Scout's mind for the next five years, making her stop and think when she would have barrelled on ahead-
If stopping and thinking makes her be a little nicer to Spy, who slowly and eventually returns the favor-
If the kindness evolves into trust, and trust evolves into honest communication-
And if Spy eventually comes clean about one very important little family detail-
Well. That's between Scout, the Blu Spy, and no one else except maybe God.