The commercials were so noisy. Everyone talked so loudly and the music seemed to be blaring and mixing with those intense, fast-talking voices which only existed to sell products to whoever would listen. How many commercials had there been so far? Two? Four? Six? Sniper had no idea, he wasn’t keeping track anymore.
He regretted agreeing to this, now: the other mercenaries had sci-fi movie nights quite often, and usually he declined joining them but this night Scout had begged him to watch because the particular movie playing on the sci-fi channel that night was “Attack of the Mutant Mice”, which apparently was one of Scout’s favorite films. Sniper couldn’t see why, it was a corny black and white movie about giant, genetically modified mice that would eat people. The effects were cheesy and the acting was over the top, and normally Sniper could laugh at something like that but tonight he just couldn’t.
The voices on the TV were loud, the screen seemed so bright in the dim living room, and the others were making loud remarks. Medic was laughing at one point— had his laugh always been so grating? Sniper had never noticed. He tried to relax by messing with a small puzzle toy in his hands, but his hands just seemed to shake and he spaced out for a few seconds, suddenly forgetting what he was supposed to do with it. His heart was beating against his chest, and the feel made him very uneasy. Scout’s breathing was also really loud next to his ear— he wanted to tell him to stop, but what was Scout supposed to do? Stop breathing?
Another commercial break crossed the screen, and it showed a commercial for some hair gel. Soldier tossed popcorn at the screen, shouting something about hippies that Sniper didn’t fully process. The music was just generic background music, but somehow it was so hard to listen to, like nails on a chalkboard. Sniper couldn’t take it, and he found himself covering his ears, wincing and trying to focus on his breathing again. He felt his heartbeat again, and he wished he couldn’t feel it at all.
Someone was touching him; it was Engineer, and he was asking, “You all right, son?” But Sniper couldn’t answer, he suddenly felt like his mouth wouldn’t form words. Instead he stood up, his hands going limp and letting the puzzle drop to the floor, and he shuffled off quickly to the kitchen.
Once inside, Sniper found himself crawling under the table and pulling his knees up into a fetal position, clapping his hands back over his ears and trying to take several deep breaths. His heart was still pounding, but he felt slightly calmer now that he was somewhere quieter.
He didn’t know how long he was under that table, trying to relax, but the next thing he knew there were footsteps heading towards the kitchen. He hugged his arms, pressing his eyes shut and praying whoever it was wouldn’t try to talk to him.
It was Scout, and Sniper realized this as the feet got closer. Scout said nothing, much to Sniper’s surprise, and instead paused by the table. After a moment of silence, Scout turned around headed to the counter, where he started rustling around in the cabinets for something. A few seconds later, Sniper heard the familiar sounds of the coffee pot brewing something and the scent of coffee filling the kitchen. He lifted his head, but buried it back into his knees when the bright lights of the kitchen were too much for him.
Everything went quiet for about a minute, until there was a knock on the table. “Hey,” Scout’s voice was surprisingly more gentle than usual. “You want some coffee?”
Sniper tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come out. Scout poked his head beneath the table, glancing at Sniper, and Sniper just nodded.
“Okay,” Scout smiled, crawling beneath the table beside Sniper and handing him the coffee cup. Sniper gratefully accepted, cracking a tiny smile as he felt the pleasant warmth of the mug in his hands.
Sniper felt himself calming down considerably as he sipped the coffee, and Scout curled up next to him without saying anything. After a moment, Sniper took one hand off the mug and gripped Scout’s hand tightly, and Scout squeezed back reassuringly.
