Picked Apart And Come Undone (Chapter 6, SFW version)
Hello! This is a version of chapter 6 of my fic Picked Apart and Come Undone with the NSFW parts taken out! There’s some plot stuff that occurs later on in the chapter, so I wanted to make a readable version for people who aren’t of age, or just don’t like smut.
Here you go, guys!
After the REDs had reloaded their weapon stocks and been patched up, the match resumed. With an uber charged up at the ready, everyone banded together, save for the usual suspects that remained behind (Engineer and Sniper), instigating a push that had thrown the uncoordinated BLU team for a loop, and sent the nine other mercenaries running for the hills. Whilst the glowing red silhouettes of Heavy and Medic came charging through front doors, RED Scout had rushed in and out with the Intel during the confusion, skirting over the rooftop of the boardwalk bridge and slapping Mick’s hand in a hi-five as he passed by. Their Spy grabbing the next briefcase, and the pushback from the BLU team to take down their Engineer’s sentry setup left the teams at 2-2, a score they would have to settle tomorrow as the sun began to set after hours of a tug-of-war match where neither side was willing to give an inch.
Through the rest of the day, as he monotonously scoped in, and out, searched the battlefield for any heads cheekily poking out of the base, Sniper had mulled things over. Although he’d not come to any conclusions that would hold long term weight, in the short term, he knew he at least wanted to meet with Medic and talk. Just talk, he told himself over and over, as he made his way down the corridor to the infirmary, unable to stave off the heat in his face as he thought about their earlier interaction.
He knocked, and as expected, didn’t get a response from Medic right away. When engrossed in his papers, or experiments, work took priority over any social calls. Mick had been on the verge of turning tail and bolting, only to hear a muffled voice from inside calling to him.
“The door is unlocked!” Well, it’d be rude to up and leave now, wouldn’t it? Sniper let himself in.Immediately, his nostrils were filled with the pungent scent of disinfectant, blood and powdered latex, the mix of clinical scents making his head spin. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, but seldom often did pleasant experiences come from visiting the doctor. Memories from his last "appointment" were still fresh in his mind. Just being in the doorway caused him anxiety, on top of what he'd come to chat with him about. Mick could hear the sound of a pen scratching, so assumed he was making some last minute notes on something or other before it fell out of his head. “Just a moment.”
He had his back to Sniper, who said nothing and shut the door behind him.
There was a soft coo from a nearby window. The sight of Archimedes, Medic’s beloved pet dove tilting his head and ruffling his feathers made Mick’s mouth quirk at the corner, and without a moment’s hesitation, he made his way over there, making his steps slow and careful as to not alarm him.
“Hello.” Mick said. Archimedes tilted his head to the opposite side, his beady little eyes surveying the guest with rapt attention. Sniper tentatively reached a hand forward, allowing the dove to judge for himself whether the marksman could be trusted or not. Archimedes, being the sociable sort, hopped on to the back of the man’s palm, allowing Mick to raise the bird to eye level. “Look at you…! Pretty little thing, you are.” He used a finger to give the dove some scratches behind his head. “If I keep pettin’ you, will you promise to stop diving into me organs when I’m havin’ surgery?”
The bird gave a small coo in response, not seeming the least bit repentant.
Mick snickered. “Be glad yer right cute.”
“Oh. He likes you!” Sniper realized Medic had turned to face them. He felt a little abashed at being caught having a one sided conversation with a bird but Medic was smiling. “Are you a fan of birds, Sniper?”
“Uh… yeah.” He gave a curt nod. “Saw all sorts of creatures in me time in the Outback... but I’ve always liked birds a lot.”
“Have you ever owned one?”
“Nah. I’ve always wanted an owl as a pet, but me mum was right scared of ‘em." Mick gave a small hum in his throat, a kind of laugh. "Had a bad experience with one when she went camping in Craven’s Peak with dad before I was even in the picture.”
Medic listened, and the fact Sniper was gently petting Archimedes the entire time, almost absentmindedly, didn’t go unnoticed. The sight of him being so gentle and considerate with the dove meant a lot to him, more than Mick would probably ever truly know.
“Yeah. Even those lil’ ones, Boobooks, they’re called, tiny fluffy lil’ things they are; she wouldn’t have it." Snipers face seemed to light up talking about it, and it was one of the rare opportunities he'd seen Mick talk at length. "It was the talons which spooked ‘er, which I suppose is understandable, they’re bloomin’ sharp even on the little ones.”
Medic wasn't about to interrupt. Any excuse he could get to listen to that voice, he'd most certainly take it. It was charming, the way the man spoke, the way his thick Australian accent ebbed and flowed and curved certain inflections into the words.
Sniper trailed off after a few moments, realizing that he’d gone on a complete tangent, mistaking Medic's quiet interest for him trying to be polite. He cleared his throat, and gently set Archimedes down. “Er… sorry. Listen to me, ramblin’ about bloody owls of all things…”
“I was listening! I am so curious to find out more.” Ludwig genuinely meant that, as well. “But I have a feeling you didn’t come here to talk about owls, right?”
Mick nodded. “Yeah. It’s about, uh.” He spun his hands in a vague gesture, attempting to find a way to phrase it in a way that sounded proper. “Well. First off, I feel like I should apologize for me outburst the other night.”
“Oh, that!” Medic chuckled. “I’d almost forgotten about it, actually.” He gave a shrug. “Water under the bridge, I am not angry or upset, if that’s all you’re worried about.”
Sniper frowned. “Well, that’s just it, that ain’t all I’m worried about, mate.” Sniper idly placed a hand on the surface Archimedes sat. He felt the pigeon nudging at his fingers to encourage more attention, poking his head through his parted fingers as a sign to continue the scritches. Mick obliged. It calmed his nerves to do so, in fact. “I feel… like our relationship 'as changed a lot in a very short amount of time.”
“Oh?” Medic gave a curious little smile, and his expression didn’t betray the overwhelming sense of satisfaction he was feeling in this moment.
“Look, mate, don’t act coy.” Mick grumbled, grooves forming in his forehead as he frowned. “If you want something from me, just get it out in the open, please.” Sniper was starting to grow weary of this cat and mouse game they’d been playing.
Unfortunately for Sniper, Medic would not indulge his request to not act coy, because it was far too fun. “You will have to be more specific, Mick.”
Sniper’s pursed his lips a bit, trying not to begin laughing out of nervous frustration.
Medic flashed a toothy grin at him, his expression shifting from interested to slightly sinister. “I won’t know what you want unless you tell me.”
Walking from the table, Sniper placed his hand on Medic’s shoulder. He leant forward, his sunglasses sliding down his nose. Medic had been aware of Sniper’s heterochromatic eyes for a while, since his first ever visit to his infirmary on induction day all that time ago. They were normally hard to notice when they were washed out by those yellowed lenses so much. Now, they were directed on him, flicking from side to side to grasp his true intentions. One green, one blue. Piercing, yet so unsure.
“If you wanna shag me.” He began, his voice deepening. “Just tell me.”
Medic’s smile faltered. “…Shag you?”
Sniper had not expected such a confused response. He felt the pit of his stomach drop, doubts clouding his head as he wondered if maybe all this time, he HAD gotten the wrong impression and had just humiliated himself.
“What does that mean?” Medic wasn’t being coy now, genuinely asking as he’d never heard that term before. That’s when it occurred to him; Ludwig wasn’t native to Australia, was he? Mick began to laugh, covering his mouth with a hand to try and suppress it. His amusement gained a slightly irritated response from Medic, who’s curved eyebrows knotted together as he started to go a bit red in the face as well. “What's so funny?”
“It’s... it’s Aussie slang for…” Sniper gave a cough, trying to compose himself. “Havin’ sex. Fucking. If you want to fuck me, Lud, just tell me, please.”
“Yes. I would like that, in fact.” The good doctor responded without even a moment’s hesitation, which caused Sniper to cease laughing immediately, probably an intentional move on his part.
“Oh, uh. Blimey.” Sniper mumbled, putting his hands in his pants pockets to avoid nervously fidgeting. “Didn’t expect you to actually…”
“What say you?” Medic pushed his own spectacles up the bridge of his nose.
He didn’t think they’d get this far. A part of him had almost expected Medic to deny it, but who was he kidding? The man wasn’t one to mask things due to some silly societal expectations. If he could talk at length about his bloodlust and exploits in malpractice, then of course he’d be completely truthful about this. Medic did as Medic wanted, and those who tried to prevent it usually had their vital organs on ice before they could even debate their grievous error.
But what did Sniper want?
Not even weeks ago, the very idea of it would have perturbed him, even disgusted him, because of who they were to one another. Medic took a little too much pleasure in making the men he was supposed to be caring for uncomfortable, and oftentimes, fearful. The man had no place being a doctor; he was a sadist, a psychopath, a chaotic and unpredictable force of nature that couldn’t be contained, oft leaving destruction in its path of both enemies and friends, alike. But, over a few short weeks, Sniper discovered there was a depth to him that the doctor had allowed him to peer into and see. He’d discovered that in contrast to the image Medic liked to put out, there was more. Much more. He would survey the strange sort of childish excitement and enthusiasm in all that he did, which could be equal parts unnerving and... endearing. He would see it when he talked about his experiments, when joking with the others, when he sang along to records in the rec room and hooted with laughter like an owl. When he’d told him in no uncertain terms that no matter what sort of demons Sniper kept suppressed with all his strength that it was okay that they were there.
He knew.
He had them too.
He’d grown strangely fond of the man, as a colleague, then as a odd sort of friend, and then... this. Whatever this new feeling was. However, the glaringly obvious fact that they had very opposing ideals when it came to their lines of work acted as a blockade. A deterrent. Sniper was still holding on to the idea that he wasn’t crazy like everyone in his life liked to tell him that he was. Was he overthinking things? Really, none of that had to be considered if they were to just… shag, did it? Morals be damned if he could get that itch to be scratched.
It was a rationalization Sniper had found himself recalling repeatedly as of late, during his nights alone in his camper where he had no one else to distract him from his mind wandering to Medic. Medic, of all people. God, it had been so long since he’d been intimate with anyone.
Why was he thinking about this so much? Why did he care about the long term, or what getting his dick wet inside Doctor Frankenstein might say about his character? An opportunity was being thrust out to him on a silver platter. Medic wanted to satisfy him, and had made that fact glaringly apparent. These days, he didn't have the energy to pursue someone actively, not that he'd ever had that much drive to. Why bother trying to score at a bar or romance someone when he could just rub one out to a fantasy alone in his van and call it a night? Just him, and his own thoughts, his own presence, not having to make the effort to make sure someone else got their own end of the bargain.
Medic was outside his usual type, but was... admittedly, attractive. Handsome, actually. Conventionally so. He was older, yes, but in the sort of dignified way that not everyone could maintain as they aged. His physique was well taken care of, as well as his hygiene and grooming. For all the depraved and vile things that went on in his lab, he kept his own person very clean and well cut.
In contrast, Sniper was rail thin, slouched, gained wrinkles from too much sun exposure in his late twenties, with a thinning hairline on top of that. He didn’t cut his nails, urinated in jars and sometimes went days without a proper bath or combing his hair, or changing his clothes. But he did take good care of his teeth… something that Medic had said he liked a lot...
It was... nice, really. Being wanted. Having aspects that he didn't think twice about pointed out to him with such... affection, and admiration.
"Sniper?"
He then realized that the silence between them had stretched on for an ungodly amount of time.
“Uh.” Mick said.
Medic blinked, waiting patiently for an answer.
“Well.” Mick said.
And Medic waited, linking his hands behind his back, his expression passive.
“That’s…” Mick began, once more. He closed a fist, and pressed it to his mouth, staring down at the ground as he willed his mind to stop going at the rate of molasses.
Ludwig tilted his head to one side, mimicking Archimedes in such a distinct fashion that Sniper almost started laughing again. He could look very sweet and demure, shift his expression into a smile that someone who didn’t know his true nature might see and peg him as someone’s kindly grandfather. Medic had no children that he knew of. Except his doves. Archimedes then hopped on to Sniper’s shoulder, startling the life out of him.
Misha’s allegory about this man being a tiny, skittish little bird came to mind.
“You… can have some time to think about it, if you like.”
“Y-yeah, yeah, I might—I might, just do that. Yeah.” Sniper was so relieved to have been given an out, but also rather furious at himself for running away when he’d intended for this to be sorted out. “Uh. Rain check. I’m.” He pointed at the door with a finger. “Sorry to have bothered you, Ludwig, I’ll… see meself out.”
“Before you go,” Medic continued, causing Sniper to come to a sharp stop and turn to face him. “No hard feelings will come from this if you say no. I can handle rejection, schatz.”
Sniper nodded a few times, and ducked out of his office, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
Thirty seconds passed.
Medic had put Archimedes back in his cage with all his brothers, fully intending to continue on with his work. He sighed, shook his head, and picked up his pen, trying to focus on anything but what had just happened.
The door opened.
There stood Mick, panting like he’d run all the way back there in a frenzy.
“What does that mean?" He asked, making Medic blink confusedly. "Schatz. You never told me."
Medic put down his pen, feeling his heart beating in his chest in a way it hadn’t done since he was a teenager. "It means... treasure. Something that is precious to you."
It was actually sickening how sentimental and schmaltzy that answer was, and even worse... Sniper liked it. Disgust hit him, hating but also enjoying how... warm, and fuzzy he felt. Sniper wasn't and frankly never would be a romantic. Or he thought that he wasn't. Perhaps he was just a lot more desperate for approval from another person than he thought. “I thought about it." He said, quietly. "I... think. I might be interested in takin' you up on your offer. So-!"
His words were shortly cut off by Medic bridging the gap and dragging him inside by the collar, the door shutting with a thud. All bets were off, and Medic wasn’t going to let Mick leave again now that he’d finally coaxed him into a yes. He pushed Mick into his office chair, situated at a desk that faced the door, removing his glasses and placing them on its surface. Slightly bewildered, his own sunglasses slightly crooked, Sniper watched with bated breath as Medic crouched to his knees, removing his gloves and pocketing them in his lab coat. “Bloody hell, I didn’t think you meant now…!”
Medic paused, tilting to look up at him, two fingers poised on the zipper of his fly. “Forgive my haste, I have just wanted you for so long, Mick.” He brushed a hand through his hair, the small cowlick stubbornly sticking to his forehead as it always did.
The word cute echoed in his head as he noted that feature on him, and he blinked, bewilderedly, wondering where that had come from. Taking in a deep breath to ground himself, Sniper gave a small sound in the pit of his throat, almost a laugh but not quite. “C’mere.” He said, patting his lap.
--
For a while, they held together, catching their breath, just looking at each other in muddled silence. It wasn’t exactly a blissful afterglow, but not terrible, by any means. Medic was beginning to realize how hot he was from being in his full uniform, sweat causing his cowlick to stick to his forehead. Sniper was having a moment where he realized how vulnerable he'd allowed himself to be, even briefly, and now he wasn't sure if he was comfortable with it anymore.
Then there was a loud knock at the door.
In one swift motion, the men leapt off the desk, Sniper trying to pull his pants up as he hopped away, only to trip and fall flat on his face. Meanwhile, Medic had taken the smart approach, and dove on to his office chair, as the desk in front of him obscured his lower half from view of the door.
“Medic, I need some’a that cream for me bum, it's--!” Demoman froze, staring at the form of Sniper on the ground, ass up and caught, quite literally, with his pants down. "Aye. Should I come back later?”
“I would recommend that, yes. Sniper was just trying to escape from his annual prostate exam.” Medic said, cooly, with all the finesse and clear-headedness of a man who had not just been engaged in sexual congress less than thirty seconds ago. “He didn’t get too far.”
Mick said nothing, remaining still, too humiliated to move from his spot on the infirmary floor.
“Oh. Is that today?” Demoman looked alarmed. “Uh, sorry, wrong room! I think I hear Dell callin’ for me, needed in the kitchen!” And off he ran, with Medic having no intention of following him.
After the door slammed shut, and Demo’s footsteps grew faint, Medic got to his feet, pulling his own trousers up and walking over to where Mick lay, rolled on to his back, an arm over his eyes as he let out a long, heavy sigh.
“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are ya?”
“Nein. I don’t think the rest of the base will, either, once Tavish spreads the word.” He offered a hand, which Mick eventually took, and then pulled his pants up, muttering a long string of curses as his face continued to stay beet red. “Oh, schatz, don’t be so embarrassed. Du hast einen tollen Arsch!” Sniper didn’t know exactly what he’d said, but he got the gist as Medic gave it a cheeky slap, giggling even as Mick gave him a thwack to the back of the head in response.
--
The doctor had been spot on when he said that rumours would spread quickly, because come the following morning, he couldn’t make eye contact with anyone in the base without a smirk or a snicker being sent his way. Sniper tried to ignore it as he sat in spawn with the eight other men, sharpening his kukri in what he hoped was a sinister manner to get the point across that he wasn’t in the mood for any of that today.
To his credit, Dell had been mature about the situation. The only look he’d given was a sympathetic smile, and he’d sat himself next to the marksman, glaring at those who dared to openly laugh at his predicament. “It’ll pass, Mick.” He muttered, obviously trying to help him feel better, but unfortunately he just felt worse about it being brought up at all. “They’ll get bored of it ‘n move on to somethin’ else.”
“It don’t bother me, really.” He said, giving a half-hearted shrug, even though internally he was tired of being the one everyone in base was talking about, whether that be over this or previous rumours.
“Was it really a prostate exam, though?” Came the smooth voice of the Spy from behind them, who obviously couldn’t resist digging the knife in deeper (a fitting allegory for the man, in fact). “I have my doubts.”
“Spook.” Engineer said with a warning tone.
“I am teasing.” He said, with a quiet titter. “But, it would not surprise me. I have seen the looks you give one another, lately.”
Sniper gritted his teeth. “You sorted out your lovers spat then?” He snapped, immediately feeling slightly guilty when he realized he’d thrown Engineer under the bus in confronting the issue like that. Spy’s smirk faded. His eyes flicked to Dell, saying nothing. Apart from that, his expression remained passive as he puffed out a cloud of cigarette smoke.
Dell gave a chuckle. “Yeah. We’re fine. Don’t you worry about us, Mick. Everything’s settled.”
Sniper resolve softened. He turned to face the Frenchman. “You treat him right, mate. He’s a good one. You don’t deserve ‘im, frankly.”
Spy’s lip curled into a small smile of his own. “You’re right. I don’t.”
“Since we’re bein’ frank.” Engineer interrupted, clearing his throat to try and mask that he’d gotten slightly emotional from what Spy had just said, “How… are ya’ll doin’?” He lowered his voice. “You ‘n Medic.”
“Am I correct in my assumption that you two are…?” Spy raised both of his eyebrows.
God, these two were like gossiping teenage girls, weren’t they? Or perhaps they were, in their own odd way, trying to relate to him, show him that there was a strange sort of solidarity, an understanding. Sniper turned his head to where Medic was stood, his back to the group of three men as he chatted with Heavy, animated and excitable as he always was pre-battle. “Surprised he’s not already spilled the beans, mate. He’s not the type to keep secrets.”
“I feel as though he respects you a little too much to divulge it to everyone.” Spy muttered. At Mick’s questioning frown, he continued. “I am serious. I saw it in him when he gave you that aspirin. You are in his good books. Consider yourself extremely lucky.”
“You could be in his good books if you weren’t such a bastard to everybody.” Dell commented, also being a man in Ludwig’s “good books”.
“You enjoy it, really.” Spy simpered. “My sarcastic sense of humour and debonair-”
“Nope.” Dell said flatly, cutting across him. “I tolerate it coz you have a pretty face, you snake.”
“Does he?” Sniper asked. “He’s not a crypt keeper under that mask from years of smoking, then?”
“Oh, he is.” Engineer said, gaining an open mouthed glare from the Spook. “He pulls the look off well, though.”
“I despise you both.” He grumbled, putting his cigarette out by stubbing it on Dell’s metallic arm, gaining a light backhand across the face with his free one.
Sniper was happy to see Engineer back to his old self, and he was also pleased to know Spy had finally found someone who could say what he liked to his face without fear of repercussion. It would do him good, Mick was sure; hopefully humble him a little bit. In a lot of ways, the two were the perfect foil for each other. He found his eyes drifting towards where Ludwig was stood, grinning and unaware he was being watched. Sniper didn’t realize that he’d began staring until a different voice that was neither Spy nor Engineer saying his name brought him back.
“Sniper.” The three of them looked up, surprised to see Soldier stood in front of him. His posture, as usual, was rigid, but this time his helmet was off and held under his shoulder. The entire room went silent, watching on with bated breath as they waited for what a lot of them feared would be unfinished business from yesterday. Mick said nothing, staying sat and surveying Jane calmly. He wasn’t about to let the man intimidate him, if that was his intention. “I would like to… apologize. For my actions yesterday.” Soldier said. Sniper hadn’t expected this; in fact, he’d mostly forgotten about it, his mind being very much elsewhere for the rest of the evening after visiting the infirmary. Jane continued. “Not just for breaking your nose, soldier, for also… dismissing the work you do out there. We’re all a member of this team for good reason, the best of the best in our line of work, you included.”
“… Thanks, Jane.” Sniper responded, genuinely grateful that he’d said that. “I know I went a bit far, as well-”
“No. It’s… true. What you said was true.” He ran a hand through his buzz cut. “I wasn’t… I’ve never actually been a…” He hesitated, a slightly pained expression on his face. It was difficult, sometimes, for the Soldier to gather his thoughts or speak eloquently about matters that addressed the true nature of what went on in the world around him instead of in his own delusions.
“It’s alright.” Sniper said, watching him closely, seeing that glazed look and knowing that he might not be with them again for a while should he allow those thoughts and memories to persist. “Really.”
Looking slightly relieved, Jane continued. “My point is; I’m not a superior officer here. None of us are superior officers in this war. We all have a place on this team, and we are all equal in our rank. Except for Scout.”
“Wh- HEY!” Scout piped up over the mixture of laughter from the other mercs.
“Well, you’re good at boostin’ morale, mate.” Sniper said, only half sarcastically. “Someone’s gotta.”
Jane beamed, looking like Sniper had just handed him a shiny silver medal all of his own. Then, he placed his helmet back on, turning from him and standing at attention in front of the rest of the team. “Alright, men! We have a score to settle with those BLU sons of bitches. They’re going to be putting their all into this, and I want to see just as much—no, hell to that, I want to see TRIPLE the effort they’re putting in.” As he spoke, he paced back and forth, shaking a fist and speaking with unbridled passion. “The score was left at a stalemate yesterday; one more point will declare the victor! And that had BETTER BE US.” He pointed towards Engineer. “Dell, explain the plan that the two of us discussed in depth yesterday.”
Rising to his feet, Dell obliged, his stance and demeanor little less serious than the other man, but still business-like. “Alright, boys. Here’s what we’re thinkin’…”
--
The nine men had charged out as a unit, following the steps provided in the plan laid out for their mission. It was simple enough in theory, and required making short work of the match, hoping that the rush would throw the BLU team for a loop and get them out of there in one piece with the briefcase in tow. Scout, of course, would make his way in first, charging over the roof of the bridge and into the basement hopefully before the BLU Engineer would have had time to head down and create a sentry nest. Soldier, Demo and Medic, would make their way in through the sewer below, an uber at the ready to handle anyone acting as a blockade to the base on the ground. Spy would swoop in and backstab anyone trying to sneak inside RED’s domain alone, and for any group ambushes, Heavy would be waiting near spawn, a dispenser set up to reload up on ammo, with Pyro also hanging back to act as support and Spy-check. Engineer would set up in the usual spot in the Intelligence room, and Sniper would remain perched and ready to take out the enemy Sniper, and anyone foolish enough to put their ugly mug right in line with his scope.
Mick knew that things would go tits up when the BLU Sniper, with lightning quick reflexes shot an arrow through their Scout’s skull. The scream and the sound of his corpse falling and crashing into the water below echoed through the courtyard.
“Stick to our plan, men!” Came Soldier’s voice from below as the trio of him, Medic and Demo fell into the water with a hearty splash. "SNIPER."
Alright, Mick knew the signal. The plan had been to alert Spy to make his way down to the intelligence room should Scout not make it there alone, but he hadn’t even gotten himself properly set up yet, and this gangly bastard across from him was already here and taking people out. The fwoosh of another arrow just missing his head was enough to momentarily deafen him.. Bugger it all, Sniper thought, thrusting a bullet into his rifle. Trying to remain calm and collected, he peered out, ducking his head in once or twice to make sure he wasn't poised and at the ready to take him out.
BANG.
Mick fired, deeming it better to shoot in quick succession instead of waiting for a fully charged headshot. The first shot hit the BLU Sniper’s shoulder, which would definitely impact on his ability to use that bow. As the man distractedly inspected his wound, Mick fired again. One to the chest, and Sniper saw that the hit had painted the wall of the Builder’s League United’s factory with a fresh coat of blood. The BLU Sniper staggered, wheezed, and made his way out of view, whether to seek medical attention or collapse in a heap on the ground, Mick wasn’t sure.
There was no time to wait around to see, though.
“Scout’s down!” Mick called.
“Acknowledged!” Came Engineer’s voice, and Sniper knew he could rely on him to know Spy’s location and alert him quickly. About ten seconds later, the figure of the BLU Pyro ran out of the RED base, only to vanish into thin air, alerting Mick that their Spy was well on his way inside.
Then, out came the BLU Medic and Soldier, and it seemed as though the enemy’s doctor had the quick fix strapped to his back if the duo flying into the air was anything to go by.
“Shit!” Sniper grunted, knowing that he’d need to duck for cover because a missile was no use against Soldier that he knew had an overheal.
“Yeah, that’s right, hippie! Run like the scared little girl you are!” He heard the BLU Soldier exclaim, his heavy feet plodding against the wooden boards of the upper level.
Retreating into spawn, Sniper knew it would be best to wait until they were a safe enough distance away. The sound of the Engineer’s teleporter entrance being destroyed came from outside the door.
“Let’s go, cupcake!” The Soldier bellowed, and Sniper could tell that they would be headed down the long sloping corridor to the basement. Mick knew he’d have to act fast, and that his next steps would be very risky. Grabbing his own bow in lieu of his rifle, he waited a few moments, peering out to make sure they wouldn’t see him. Then, he bolted, knowing that the BLU Medic would be falling behind in case of any REDs waiting down there, and to be able to make a quick dash back up should he need to.
Sniper crept down, quietly, very quietly, until he heard murmuring.
“They have a sentry.” He recognized the German accent, struck by how much he sounded like Ludwig. “The Quick-Fix isn’t enough to penetrate the defences alone, Soldier. We should wait for backup.”
“It’s only a Level 2, it should be easy pickin’s.”
“Nein! Wait for backup, dummkopf!” Medic insisted. “You are always doing this, you are so pig headed!”
“What did you call me, kraut? Big headed?!”
Sniper took his chance, stepping into view of the pair for a split second to fire an arrow into the doctor’s head. He didn’t even have time to scream, the force of the shot catapulting his body into the wall opposite where Mick had been stood.
“I think your doc’s the one with the big head, mate! It looked bloody twelve feet tall!” Sniper called down as he began to scarper, the sound of the Soldier’s enraged scream echoing through the base. Thankfully, he knew that he could outrun the man fairly easily, and he became satisfied further the scream of anger turn to agony, the sound of the RED Pyro’s muffled giggles joining him. Alright, that was the BLU Soldier and Medic down for the count, that reassured him a bit.
“Spy’s sappin’ my dispenser!” Dell cried out, nearly shoving past Sniper to try and get down and save it before it was far too late.
“Dell, let Heavy know to come up here!” He called. "I need backup here!". When he didn’t get a response, Mick frowned, wondering if Engineer hadn’t heard him. He hopped down, and craned his neck inside, seeing Engineer stood in front of the remains of his contraption.
“Darn.” He muttered, softly, turning and seeing Sniper stood there. “Didn’t get here in time.”
“You seen Heavy?” Sniper asked, glancing around and not seeing the Russian anywhere near where he was supposed to be.
“Can’t say I have, slick.” He admitted. “He told me he was gonna go to the base with Medic ‘n the others.”
“That wasn’t the plan though…” Sniper muttered, frowning. “Bloody bogen.” He turned, and that’s when he spotted some droplets of blood on the ground. He straightened up, and pulled out his kukri, the realization hitting him like a freight train. “SPY.”
The RED Engineer gave a taunting wave, and then vanished into thin air. The jarate the Sniper threw hit the wall behind the spot he'd just been in, but the figure’s silhouette remained obscured. If Heavy and Engineer were no longer around, it was safe to say that Spy had seen to both of them already.
Sniper was now in the base alone.
No, wait. There was still one more person here.
“PYRO.” He called, charging back up to the respawn room and almost tripping up the stairs. “PYRO, YOU STILL ALIVE, MATE?”
“Hmmph!” Pyro’s voice echoed up the sloping corridor, his rubber boots squeaking with every quick step he took.
“The BLU Spy’s taken Engie and Heavy down." He relayed, once Pyro stood in front of him. "The two of us are the only ones left.”
Pyro nodded, and Mick stepped out of his way to allow the arsonist to begin spraying patterns of fire around the room they were stood in. Then, hopped down, making his way to the lower level to continue his excavation. In the meantime, Sniper swapped out for his Razorback as a precaution, as well as equipping his rifle. When he came back out, it was to see Pyro, shaking his head and giving a shrug.
"No sign of him?"
He shook his head.
"Keep an eye on the intel, mate. I'll be outside and let you know if anything changes." Mick waved him off, and walked out to the terrace once more. Minutes passed in quiet silence, until signs of life made themselves known. A headshot took out the BLU Scout attempting to bolt across the roof. A headshot got the enemy Sniper once again, who had seen to his injuries but gained that trip through respawn he’d narrowly avoided anyway. No sign of the BLU Heavy or Demoman, who had likely deemed it best to fall back if their Medic was down for the count.
“Fucking Snipers.” Mick heard a Scout’s voice from behind him, and he balked when Mick held his sharpened blade up to his throat. “Woah, woah, easy there, Snipes. I just got outta respawn.” He watched as the man backed up, and saw respawn door open, something that it would do only when it sensed members of RED, even if Spy was disguised as one. “See?”
“Okay.” He said, with a nod. “Get goin’, then. Heavy ‘n Engie are down, and that there might be a Spy in the base. Let the others know.
“Oh, shit! I’m on it!” Scout hopped on the bridge roof, calling behind him. “See you back with the intel in ten minutes!”
Mick hoped he could hold the boy to that.
Not too long after Scout had vanished from view, out came Medic… alone. Covered in blood. Sniper’s chest tightened when he saw the man scrambling to get out of harm’s way, the BLU Pyro coming to a stop as he saw his prey leap into the water, the one place his flames would be of absolutely no use whatsoever. Mick fired a bullet, narrowly avoiding the masked head because the mute abomination had crouched at the very last moment to watch Ludwig swim away, almost looking downtrodden. The bullet had gotten his attention, though, and the Pyro retreated inside without a second’s hesitation. Mick hissed a curse through his teeth, but retreated downstairs to reach Medic before the enemy Spy could do so.
Mick found him, leaning against the metal railing of the sewer stairs as he heaved in heavy breaths. He was soaking from the dive into the water, hair and clothes sticking to his body as he shivered, likely from shock than cold. “Soldier and Demo…” He explained, straightening up and brushing flecks of hair off his forehead. “They’re dead. The BLU Demoman set up a crit boosted sticky trap at one of the entrances to the intelligence, and it got both of them instantly.”
“You managed to get out of there okay? You’re covered in blood…” Sniper asked, actually finding himself somewhat concerned for his wellbeing.
“Yes, I was lucky. I had to pop my uber to get out of there in one piece.” He motioned to his lab coat. “This is all that remains of our comrades, it’s not mine. The BLU Pyro pursued me up until the end, but the only thing he managed to singe were my coat tails.” He gave a small hoot of laughter, letting out a cough afterwards, from a mixture of the rush to flee and from inhaling a bit too much water. “Where is Heavy?”
“Dead.” Sniper said, flatly.
“Ah. Engineer?”
“Dead.” Sniper repeated.
“… That’s not good.” Medic furrowed his brow, his smile falling. “Oh, that is not good at all, our entire plan is falling apart.”
“BLU Spy might be in the base, too. Pyro’s keeping a lookout.”
“Alright.” He nodded. Flicking the switch of the medi-gun, he kept it trained on the other man to charge up the uber. “Lead the way, Mick.”
“Right you are. You should probably stay with Pyro at the intel.”
“Yes, that would be wise.” Medic agreed. "I have a feeling the sentry might be down already even if Pyro has managed to find the Spy.”
Thankfully, Pyro himself seemed to still be in one piece. He greeted Medic and Sniper as they met near the doors of respawn, giving the doctor a muffled thank you as he switched the healing stream to him.
“You get that Spy?” Sniper asked.
“Mhm!” Pyro held up a singed blue tie, which he put around his neck, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet as he admired his new accessory, which faded to a shade of red as soon as he’d attached it to his person.
“Well done!” Medic spoke to the other man like he was a child who had proudly shown him a crayon drawing. “Come with me, we’re going to keep an eye on the briefcase! Burn lots of BLUs that try and come down and take it, won’t that be fun?” Looking excited at the prospect, Pyro skipped away, off to the entrance of the basement.
Noticing Medic had hesitated, Sniper gave him a small nod as a farewell. “See you later.”
“Yes. I will see you later!” Ludwig turned, stopped, and then spun back around, leant forward, and gave Sniper a soft peck on the cheek. The unexpected gesture was so… tender and syrupy sweet and Sniper found himself struck dumb, watching the Medic head off and turn a corner, out of sight. Mick’s fingers went to his cheek, brushing against where he’d pressed his lips. That man was such a living contradiction, equal parts brutal, sadistic but also... a complete softie when it came to him, it seemed.
Sniper then realized that he was standing around like an idiot. He shook himself out of his daze and headed back to the terrace, trying to focus on battle rather than the funny fluttering feeling of butterflies in his belly.
