Chapter 1: Leap of Faith
More of them. MORE OF THOSE FUCKING BASTARDS. Soldier wiped the blood from his forehead, hissing with quiet rage as he reloaded his shotgun, and continued peeking around the corner. It was nearly night, there was still no sign of a safe house anywhere near. He was running low on ammo, and on strength. Nothing he'd ever faced in Europe could have faced him for this.
Infected roamed the streets, groaning and clutching their heads. They still hadn't sensed him, but he was sure that, once they did, he'd be swarmed. He didn't see how he could face all of the little bastards on his own and survive, but he'd never backed down from a challenge before, and staying where he was was just as likely to get him killed.
He mapped out where he'd be headed again - he still had the sun to follow, and that was good. Sun at his back. Going east. He'd have to dash across a few streets and cut through the park. Hopefully there'd be a notice of a safehouse near by then.
The next few minutes were a valiant struggle of shotgun blasts, deadly swipes from his shovel, pain, and blood.
Italian heels clicked on the pavement as Spy ran from a horde of infected, heading from the opposite direction. The sun started to get in his eyes, so he headed for the park. The trees would provide some cover, and it was a large park. He might be able to lose this pack of monsters. Crimson, dripping from his pant leg and the left sleeve of his jacket, began to stain dirt rather than concrete, as he ran through the brick gate, into the park, firing shots of his revolver over his wounded shoulder. Nearly all of them were perfect head shots, but there were at least a dozen of those things chasing him. He’d never be able to kill them all. He wasn’t even sure if he could outrun them.
Up and down grassy hill, and through the occasional pricker bush, Spy found himself no closer to losing the horde than he had been ten minutes ago. Worse yet, he was getting very tired. His breaths came quick and labored as he reloaded the gun, quickly firing and taking out three more of those monsters. But there were still so many chasing him.
About five seconds after he’d started to contemplate just stopping and letting them devour his flesh, the Frenchman spotted a tall tree with low branches. In his youth, he’d climbed many trees like it, but it seemed so juvenile now. Well, desperate times and all that. Quickly, he scaled the branches, and was soon sitting a good thirty feet above his pursuers, who apparently were not quite as good as climbing.
Finally able to catch his breath, Spy began shooting the creatures again. He managed to take out another five, before he realized the horrible truth.
He was out of bullets.
Soldier felt so heavy. The motions of him cocking and reloading his shotgun were sloppy sluggish as he struggled to grasp the tiny shotgun shells in his large, sweating fingers. His dog tags jingled softly in his pocket as he ran, shooting into the crowd behind them. Fuck, he didn't have enough bullets. Not in a million years.
A bloodthirsty female infected leapt for his throat. He knocked her away with the butt of his gun and blasted her through the chest, growling as warm blood splattered all over his chest. He shoved her away and lodged the blade of Shovel into the base of another monster's neck, severing bone.
Where could he go? His back bumped against a large tree. He felt cornered. He blasted the damn things several more times until he didn't have anything left to shoot, then let shovel do the rest of the work.
Just when he thought he was almost done with the swarm of infected, another horde closed in from behind him. A startled cry as one zombie bit into his shoulder. He beat the stupid thing off and cracked its skull. Where had these all come from?!
Spy got lucky. A few of the creatures heard the shots fired several yards away, and thought it would be an easier meal than the skinny Frenchman in the tree. Unluckily, this meant fewer uncoordinated monsters scrambling over each other to get up to him. Snarling and drooling, they began to climb. Spy looked around in terror for an escape route. The only way was to either jump to the ground and risk running, or jump to the tree adjacent to him, and risk breaking his legs in an even bigger fall. Either way, he’d probably die, so what had he to lose?
Inhaling deeply, as one of the female monsters crawled her way towards him, nearly grasping his pant leg now, Spy jumped.
He made it. For a brief moment, he celebrated, laughing at the monsters.
And then they started to jump after him. Most fell to the ground, making a sickening SPLAT sound. A few had managed to cling to the branches, and were quickly making their way toward him again. “OH, LACHE-MOI LA GRAPPE!” He cried out, trying the same maneuver to the next tree. He made it again, but his pursuers would not give up.
Soldier heard something. Sounded like words. Actual words - not that horrid, demonic gurgling. Someone else was alive! It took every manly bone in his body not to cry with fucking joy.
He cracked another infected's skull in and began dashing off as quickly as he could. "HELP!!!" he screamed. "IS SOMEONE THERE?! I NEED HELP!!!" Shovel found itself buried, handle-deep into another zombie's midsection.
Spy froze, as he clung to the branch. A near-bite from a falling infected caused him to snap out of it, and make his jump to the next tree, but there was no denying it. For the first time in what felt like forever, he heard another human’s voice. Someone else was alive. And they needed help.
“SO DO I! WHERE ARE YOU?!” He called back, slipping through the branches to the other side of the tree, making another jump.
Soldier bristled. That was NOT an American accent! Wait - no - this wasn't the time. Pushing his nagging discomfort out of his mind, he swiped at another zombie and screamed, "Near the west gate! I'll try to get to you!"
Spy’s hand was bitten as he slipped through another tree, but he managed to shake off the attacker, and knock him to the ground. “ ‘URRY!” He called out, his voice echoing over the hills that lay between them.
Another jump, just barely made, and Spy stopped dead in his tracks. He was out of trees. He was in an oak, at least forty feet above the ground, and he had nowhere to go but either down, or up. Fight or flight kicked in tenfold, and he began to climb, leaving blood on the branches behind.
When Soldier finally got to the clearing, his nostrils flared. Of course, it had to be a fucking BLU. A BLU SPY, at that! But it was someone. "HOLD ON, FRENCHIE!" he hollered, dashing up to the thin man. He held off the zombies with his shovel, shotgun strapped to his back.
He was only in his standard dark RED slacks, T-shirt, and had his dog tags stashed in his pocket so that they wouldn't jingle and alert idling infected as to where he was.
“ ‘ELLLLP!” Spy cried out when he saw the man below. The three remaining zombies in the tree – who luckily hadn’t seen the RED yet –were quite literally snapping at his heels, and he was quickly running out of oak. Well past sixty feet above the ground now, the branches started to thin, and break when he put any weight on them. “Oh mon dieu, m’sauverez…” He prayed, falling a good eight feet when the branches beneath him broke. The zombies were right after him of course, and it looked like Spy would be a goner.
"HOW THE FUCK DO I HELP YOU WHEN YOU'RE ALL THE WAY UP THERE?!" Soldier hollered out of sheer frustration.
“SHOOT ZHEM!” Spy hollered back, screaming when his wounded shoulder was made worse by a rather large chomp. He elbowed the creature, but it wouldn’t come off. “ ‘ELP ME!” He sobbed, both from the pain and the fear.
"I'D LOVE TO - IF I HAD ANYTHING TO SHOOT 'EM WITH!" Soldier screamed back, hacking into another Zombie's neck.
“WELL ZHEN JUST FUCKING CATCH ME!” Spy screamed, finally wrestling away from the creature’s jaw, and quickly fell through the thin branches towards the ground.
Soldier dove for him and caught him roughly, with a grunt of exertion. He nearly collapsed - if he'd been well fed and rested, it wouldn't be much of a problem, but he was nearly too tired to lift shovel again.
He scowled. "Great fucking idea, Frenchie. Now what?"
Spy just panted, weakly clinging to the other man, dripping blood all over his clothes. “…run…or die…” He replied, staring at the small horde that still surrounded them.
Soldier grunted, glancing around with the useless hunk of French puss in his arms. "Hold on, Crouton. This is gonna be a bumpy ride," he growled. He clutched Spy close, then barreled through the screeching infected as best as he could.
The Frenchman clung as tightly as he could to the man carrying him, and shut his eyes just as tight. If they were going to die, he didn’t want to see it. Under his breath, he began praying in French again. “Notre Père, qui êtes aux cieux, Que votre nom soit sanctifié…”
Soldier made it - somehow - but he was stumbling and dizzy from blood loss, with the horde still at his heels. "Quit it with that demon chantin' French shit, and help me!" he snapped. "Do you see any indications for a safehouse around here? Look for drawins."
“Drawings of what? What zhe fuck is a safe’ouse?” Spy glanced nervously over the other man’s shoulder at the creatures still bent on chasing them.
"DRAWINGS OF A HOUSE WITH A CROSS, YA NUMBNUT!!! HURRY!"
“You mean a church?” Spy spat. “Zhere’s one to zhe west of ‘ere, but it’s nozhing but- LOOK OUT!” Something flew out of the air, leapt on Soldier’s back, and knocked the two of them to the ground. Snarling, the Hunter crawled its way over to the bloodier prey -- the Spy.
Soldier growled, and grabbed for his shotgun. He'd forgotten there was no ammo for a moment, but was fine with beating the snarling creature on the head with the butt of his gun for the meanwhile. He dragged Spy back up, shaking. Glanced around. There was a picture of a safe house pointing to a church. He cradled Spy to him and began blindly dashing for the building once more. He couldn't take another attack. His body would fail him - he knew it.
Just as exhausted, and likely as scared as the man carrying him, Spy just closed his eyes, and hoped they reached this ‘safehouse’ or whatever it was before something worse came at them. With the last bit of strength in him, he began to quietly recite the Lord’s Prayer in French again, weakly still holding onto the Soldier with bloody hands.
When they finally made it to the heavily armored, metal doors, Soldier had to struggle a moment to open it, as the horde closed in. He finally pulled it open and dashed inside, closing it and locking it behind them, and sighing as fell to the ground. He smelled heavily of blood, sweat, and dust - he'd been on the run for a long time.
Spy had been on the run for a comparatively short amount of time, but he still smelled of the same stenches, only there was a lot more of the smell of blood on him than dust. He laid there on the floor beside the Soldier, still half-held by him, and just sat there, quietly muttering prayers under his breath.
Soldier shook, huffing. He needed to patrol the safe house - make sure it still had food, some sort of water supply - something to clean off with and medical supplies... But he was just too tired.... Couldn't.... stay... awake...
“…délivrez-nous du mal. Ainsi soit-il. Amen.” Spy finished his muttering, and was silent for a moment as he looked up at the Soldier. “…are we safe?” He whispered.
A low rumble of laughter sounded from elsewhere in the room. "Ve vill see, tiny man." A huge figure towered above them.
Spy jumped, and clung to the Soldier with his wounded hand, quickly drawing out his knife with his right. “Where are you? ‘oo are you? Are you one of zhem?”
A hearty laugh. "Da, I am vun of monsters. Grrr." The figure stepped forward, revealing a huge, bald man with a BLU vest on and an amused smile.
“You’re…you are BLU.” Spy slowly let the knife drop, and it clinked gently against the floor. “ ‘ave you seen any ozhers? A Sniper, a Scout, per’aps?” His own team (what little was left) had set out, weeks earlier, in hopes of finding rescue. Only himself and the Engineer were left behind. The Texan, two weeks in, ended up taking his own life, leaving Spy completely alone. Until now, that is.
Heavy shook his head. "I have seen many people coming here, but none who fought before..." He waved his hand at the door where the infected were clawing at the door and shrieking with anger. "... All dis. You have been only BLU and RED I have seen."
If Soldier heard the man, he didn't show it. He was probably asleep after all of his efforts.
“Oh…” Spy looked down at the floor, disappointed. His head slumped further once he realized how tired and dizzy he was. The adrenaline rush from earlier was quickly wearing off, and within seconds, he found himself practically face-down on the floor by the Soldier, slowly bleeding out.
Heavy gingerly took the two in his arms. "Rest now. I vill take care of you, yes? Not much medicine is left, but enough for you two."
Spy nodded, and let the larger man carry him. He’d barely gone three steps before the Frenchman was out like a light.
Chapter 2: A New Beginning
Spy awakens from his slumber and has an enlightening chat with the BLU Heavy that saved both him and the Soldier he bumped into hours earlier.
It was several hours before the horde calmed down again and wandered off, grumbling venomously at each other. Heavy had already cleaned both of the men, dressed their wounds, and let them sleep on the ragged mattress he'd pulled out of the basement of the small church. After another quick patrol to make sure there were no ways the infected could sneak in, he went back to sitting in the sanctuary, reading a Bible he'd found under a seat. Nothing better to do.
Spy woke up next to a less-sweaty Soldier, but it was still no less an unpleasant sight to wake up to. He felt over his shoulder, and hand. There were fresh bandages, and there seemed to be one on his leg too. Slowly, he dragged himself out of bed, and spent the next ten minutes staggering around the church in search of their savior. “Allo?” He called out, tentatively, wincing when it echoed. “Where are you? Allo?”
"Avake already, Spy?" Heavy asked, looking up from his book. "You should lay down. That vas much blood lost."
Limping forward, and ghastly pale with dark circles under his eyes, Spy looked not too far off from the creatures that had been chasing them earlier. “I wanted to zhank you.” He replied, leaning heavily on the pew where Heavy sat. “…zhank you.”
Heavy waved him off. "In these times, help comes free."
“Well…zhank you, anyway.” Spy leaned on the pew a little more, practically laying down on the arm of it with his uninjured shoulder. “Wizhout you, I would likely be dead in a doorway…” He sighed, looking at the hideous carpet on the floor. “I should zhank zhe Soldier when ‘e wakes up, as well. I’ve been saved a lot today. If it is still day.” He shrugged. He couldn’t tell past the boarded up windows if the sun or moon was out right now.
Heavy checked the still-ticking grandfather clock by the wall. "Is almost sunrise." He paused. "Sometimes I miss little things. Walking. Fighting - for fun and pay, not survival. My team."
“I miss my team, too.” Spy mumbled into the wooden pew. “I ‘ated zhem all before zhis…mess, but when zhey were gone, I…” He stopped, unable to finish without his voice breaking. Painfully, he swallowed back the tears with a loud gulp.
Heavy nodded quietly. "It was our spy who was first to... change. And Pyro who first went.... crazy. He vould not use flamethrower anymore. Then, later killed and ate Doktor. He was still human. But changed in different way."
Spy gulped again, and covered his mouth. “Please stop.” He gagged, feeling the sick sense of bile rising in his throat.
".... Sorry." A sigh as Heavy scratched his stubbly chin. "I just... cannot understand."
“Understand what?” Spy looked up at him with bleary eyes, still putting all of his weight on the bench.
"How something like that happens to brain. Doktor was friend."
“It is like…some sort of disease, it seems like.” Spy slowly limped his way into the pew, to sit by the large Russian man. “Zhe Engineer zhought…” he trailed off again, biting his lip to stave off the tears.
"Yes?" Heavy rubbed the younger man's back.
Spy just shook his head, and stared at the floor, eyes getting wetter by the second.
Heavy nodded, and allowed the man to sit in silence. "... Is not fair..." is all he murmured.
The Frenchman hiccupped, and leaned forward in the seat. His forehead touched the back of the pew in front of him, and he wrapped his uninjured arm around himself, still trying not to cry.
Heavy held him close, then sighed. "If you vant to talk, I am alvays around."
Spy nodded, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall. “…but for ‘ow long?” He whispered.
Heavy shrugged and smiled uneasily. "I am.... hard to kill."
He sniffled, and looked back at the Russian. “…good. Zhat’s good.” He paused, and looked back down at the floor. “…can I stay ‘ere, zhen?”
"I do not stay in one place very long," Heavy replied softly.
“Oh…I see…” Spy just stared at the carpet. It was clear the Russian didn’t want him around. Still wobbly, he stood, and limped out of the pew. “I…I will be gone by nightfall, zhen. Zhank you for your ‘elp.” Slowly, he began staggering his way out of the sanctuary.
"Spy!" the Russian called out, blinking. "Is not from you! Ve must travel to look for food and permanent safe place."
“I’m not zhe carrier, you know. No matter what zhey said, I knew it wasn’t me.” Spy turned back, completely disregarding all that the Russian said, tears starting to stream down his cheeks now. “It wasn’t. I’m immune, like zhe rest, but it doesn’t mean I caused it. It doesn’t make it my fault!”
He hiccupped again, chest heaving as he tried to inhale without making a wholly undignified noise. “It’s not my fault zhey got sick!” He shook his head, seemingly delirious now, from the blood loss most likely.
"Carrier?" Heavy blinked and stood up. "What is? Who says you did this?"
“Zhe Soldier, and zhe Demo.” He hiccupped again, stumbling, and falling against a nearby tabernacle. He leaned against the wall to support himself. “Zhey zhrew me to zhem- zhe creatures. Said zhey wouldn’t go after me, but zhey did. Oh, zhey did.” He laughed a little, hysterically, recalling the memory. “If it weren’t for our Medic, I’d be dead now. Two days later, ‘e got sick, too. Zhen we were in real trouble. Zhen everyone started leaving.” He sniffled again. “…no one would let me go wizh zhem.”
He stared, hard, at Heavy. “Do you know what zhat’s like? Zhe world is ending, and zhe only one ‘oo will tolerate your presence is one ‘oo is going to kill ‘imself anyway.” Spy hiccupped once more, and slid down the wall, onto his butt. “…I almost wish I’d done it too.” He stared down at the floor, vision beginning to spin everything together.
Heavy shrugged. "Is new beginning."
“ ‘aven’t you been outside?” Spy looked up at him, dumbfounded. “Zhis is zhe end. Zhat much is clear. Zhere are no more beginnings, my friend.”
"Maybe seems that way. But sick people outside will die, and there will be us left."
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but zhey don’t seem to want to die.” Spy held up his bandaged hand. “Whatever zhis disease is, it…it is more zhan just a sickness. It…changes zhem. Makes zhem…not ‘uman anymore. Don’t ask me what zhey are now – I don’t know, but…zhey aren’t ‘uman.”
"Maybe seems so, but I have been watching them," Heavy replied sternly. "When not chasing us, they are just very sick. They hold their heads and cry with pain. Some have seizures. Some even lay down and die without cause. They are dying. They just don't want to."
Spy looked up at the larger man, eyes still half-lidded in drowsiness. “…really?” He asked, seemingly shocked and perplexed. “I’ve…only ever seen zhem…like zhis.” He held up his bandaged hand again. “Never just…not chasing, you know?”
"Da, I do." A frown. "Is... Is sad. I want to help them, but best way is quick death. So they will not have to hurt anymore."
The Frenchman nodded, his head slumping forward further with each bob of his head. “I wonder if…if we will…become zhem…sick, like zhem…maybe it…maybe ozhers take more time?...”
"I try not to think about it."
Suddenly, their conversation was cut short by Soldier marching into the sanctuary, snarling.
"What are you two BLU maggots doing? Planning on how to kill me? Well you should have left me outside with the brainless mob and not taken care of my wounds and generally not rescued me at all, maggots! I'm going to be a lot harder to kill now!"
“Oh, it’s you.” Spy jerked his head towards the sound, and stared at Soldier with what little whites of his eyes remained past the slowly-closing lids. “…zhank you for saving me earlier.” His jaw was starting to go slack and his vision fuzzy, but he wanted to say that much at least.
Soldier snorted. "If I'd known how much goddamn trouble you'd be, I woulda left your pansy ass in that tree."
Heavy laughed, holding Spy close. "Well, I am glad you did not. More company and more comrades mean better survival, yes?"
"I ain't sure about our chances of survival with that one. Look at him! Can't even stay away for a post-mission briefing. Unacceptable!"
Spy merely snored in response.
Chapter 3: The Plan
After a squabble with the RED Soldier, Spy is told about his plan to journey to the Florida Keys for Humanity's last chance at salvation.
It was a few hours before Spy awoke again. Soldier and Heavy were still sitting in the sanctuary, sharing a jar of peanut butter. Spy was slightly off to the side with a blanket thrown around him to stave off the cold.
"Then it's agreed. For now, there will be a stalemate, but as soon as we make it, it's back to what we're best at." A grin.
"Yes, if there is respawn. Not likely, but nice to think about. We could still fight with fists, da?"
"GODDAMN IT, YOU BIG FUCKING COMMIE - NOW YOU'RE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE!"
What woke Spy was a loud screech from outside. He jerked up from his place on the floor, wincing immediately when pain shot through his shoulder. Clutching at it, he darted his eyes around the church, unsure of the sound.
“Wh-what was zhat?!”
Soldier shrugged. "Whatever the fuck it was, it can't get to us now. Seriously, Frenchie - how did you even survive this long when you keep pissing yer pants at every little thing?"
“I ‘id.” Spy struggled to his feet, leaning heavily against the pew beside him. “ ‘ow did you survive so long wizh zhis attitude of yours?” He snapped back.
"Killing is in my blood, maggot. In my very SOUL. I would NOT let those brainless sons-of-bitches kill me, even if I had to die trying!"
Spy just stared at him, unsure of what in the hell to say to that. He turned his attention towards the Heavy, instead. “Do we ‘ave anyzhing to eat or drink?”
Heavy held the jar of peanut butter to the Frenchman. "This for eating. Also have beans. You want? Water to drink, but has been contaminated. I boil it first."
He looked at the offered jar for a long time, before he refused it. “I’d razher just ‘ave zhe water, zhank you.” He really was parched. All this running and nearly dying had left him quite thirsty.
Heavy nodded and handed the jar back to Soldier. "I will only be gone seconds."
He disappeared, leaving Soldier to eat the peanut butter and glare suspiciously at Spy.
Spy felt uneasy at the gaze, and turned to pick up the fallen blanket. He wrapped it around himself carefully, and turned back to the man, to find him STILL staring at him. “What is your problem?” He hissed.
"What's your story, huh? You just hid out in your little Frenchbunker until a Hunter chased you up a tree, you wuss?"
“…a what?” Spy raised his eyebrow, confused.
"The jumping ones. With the sharp claws and weird screams. You probably haven't seen one, but I've killed dozens." Another snarl.
“Zhere are…ones zhat jump?” Still confused. “Wait, I zhink I remember. Zhe ting dat jumped on us before we got ‘ere, right? Zhat was a…what did you call it again?”
"A Hunter. That's what they're classified as."
“Classified? By ‘oo?”
Soldier paused. "Hell if I know! Other survivors, I think. All I know is that's what ya call 'em.”
“What about zhe rest? Zhe zhings zhat chase me and you. What are zhey? What makes zhem different from zhe…zhe ‘unter?” Spy circled around and sat in the pew beside Soldier, blanket still wrapped around his thin frame.
"They're commons. Common infected. They rely on numbers, but can't do much on their own. I've seen a Hunter take down a full grown man solo. Tackled him to the ground and ripped out 'is guts with its claws. I was too late by the time I got there with Shovel."
Spy swallowed hard, and looked away, face paling further.
"Hey." Soldier's voice was softer now, but just slightly. "You gotta get used to it. Things are different now. Ya gotta see these things, deal with 'em, and move on. You're a goddamn killer, not a pansy, ya hear?"
He merely nodded in response, but it didn’t make him feel any less sick. Whether it was from the cold, or the fear of their situation, Spy started to tremble.
Soldier sighed and gave up, muttering under his breath. He continued eating scoops of peanut butter one by one, practically groaning in pleasure from the taste.
Spy glanced over at him, still shivering slightly. “Is zhat…all we ‘ave? Peanut butter and beans?”
"What - you expect gourmet?!" Soldier snapped, angry again for whatever reason.
“No, but…” Spy turned away, frightened by the other man a little, and ashamed of asking the question. “ ‘ow are we supposed to survive on zhat?”
"It's got everything we need in it. Protein, vitamins, minerals, fat - the good stuff. Usually you don't even find this." Soldier was still muscular and stocky, but had obviously lost quite a lot of weight. He looked leaner and less robust now.
“Zhe ‘uman body cannot survive solely on peanut butter, monsieur…uh…” he paused, “What… do I call you, exactly?”
"Soldier's just fine. Just like in the good ol' days. And what do you know - you haven't even been fighting or traveling like I have, maggot!"
Spy just looked down at the floor again. He knew the other man was right. He’d just hid the whole time. But still… “It doesn’t mean I don’t know anyzhing. I know we need food. PROPER food.” He pointed at the jar. “And weapons, ammunition, water…” He trailed off, unable to remember the rest of his mental grocery list.
"We've got ammo and weapons and the big guy said he was bringing out water. You're just bitching and moaning because no one's here to spoon-feed you caviar anymore." Soldier growled. "Get this straight, Frenchy. The world has gone to HELL. Factories have shut down. Food delivery is next to impossible because the roads are blocked with abandoned cars and Infected. Fresh fruits and vegetables and all that hippy shit can't survive. you need non-perishables. You eat what you FIND. If you're gonna turn your nose up at everything that comes your way, then just starve to death. All I've heard you do is whimper like a bitch and complain about things WE CAN'T FUCKING CHANGE."
He slammed the jar on the pew angrily and stormed out, needing to take a breather, else he'd start throwing punches.
Spy just sat there, and curled himself into a ball on the pew. Damnit, he didn’t want to start crying again.
Heavy came back with the cooling water in some mugs. "I heard yelling. Everything is okay, yes?"
The Frenchman looked up, his eyes wet from the tears he refused to let fall, and just nodded. “Yes, everyzhing’s fine.” He accepted the mug, and just held it for a while. “Except for zhe ‘ole world being over and all zhat, but you know what I mean.”
"There is always hope. Soldier and I... We were talking. He has good plan. Better than I have. You want to hear?"
“I suppose.” Spy nodded, just staring down at the water, sipping at it every so often.
"There is rumor going around. Say stronghold of survivors is in Florida Keys. Infected cannot swim, and only way there is by boat. Soldier plans to make it there."
“A boat?” Spy balked. “We’re miles away from any water. And ‘ow exactly does ‘e expect to obtain a boat if ‘e even makes it to the water? ‘e’d be lucky to find a…canoe by now." He shook his head. "It won't work. We should just stay 'ere. Wait it out." Spy turned back to his water, and sipped at it, slowly.
"Solution is easy. We travel. We cannot stay here for very long anyway. Not enough food or supplies. Besides it is... rude to stay here and use all supplies and not leave any for other survivors. This is not our house. Simply is for resting. Not for staying."
“But travelling is…it is dangerous. I was only out zhere for a few hours and look what ‘appened to me!” Spy gestured at the bandages peeking out past his clothes. “I’m not going back out zhere again.” Another sip of his water. “Outside of ‘ere it’s death.”
"With more people, is easier. If you stay here, you will be alone," Heavy warned solemnly.
Spy looked away from him, and down at the floor again. He bit his lip, and looked every inch like he was about to cry again. “…I don’t want zhat,” he whispered, “but I don’t want to die, eizzher. Wizh my injuries, I know I cannot outrun zhose…zhings. Not again, and certainly not as far as zhe shore.”
"Yes, we still have long, long way to go. We will not leave so soon, though - do not worry. Just know that we WILL move. Not stay here. Yes?"
Spy neither nodded, nor shook his head. He merely handed the half-empty mug back to Heavy, and wrapped his arms around himself again. “Is zhere…somewhere I can lie down? I don’t feel well.”
"Come on. I take you back to mat." Heavy held the man up, supporting him as he took him back to the place he and Soldier had shared just hours before.
Spy laid down without saying a word, and curled up, the blanket wound tightly around him. He buried his face in the mattress, not sleeping, just…trying to get away from everything for a while.
That was when the faint sound of sobbing reached his ears from beyond the doors.
Chapter 4: Crying Girl
BLU Spy has his first exposure to a Witch, and tensions flare between him and Soldier. But through the chaos, a hint at a new understanding seems to shine through.
The Frenchman kept his head buried in the mattress until his ears assured him that the sound he heard was not just some dream. He jerked his head up, and limped to the safe room doors, cautiously trying to peer outside. “ ‘ello? ‘ello?” He called out, then turned back to the interior of the church. “HEY! HEY, I zhink zhere’s anozher survivor! Come quickly!”
Heavy blinked, returning to the man. "Vhat vas that? Someone else?"
“Listen.” He replied, gesturing to the safe room door. The sound of soft cries were heard again. “It sounds like a young woman. We ‘ave to ‘elp ‘er! Quick, open zhe door!”
The big Russian bristled. "No," he replied.
“…what?” Spy looked shocked. “B-but she might be ‘urt! We ‘ave to help! She could be killed out zhere wizh all zhose zhings running about!”
"She is... one of them."
“But she…but zhey…what?” Spy was utterly confused. “She...she can't be one zhem! Can't you 'ear 'er crying? Zhey don't...cry...do zhey?”
"Those do. Stay away. Are very, very powerful."
“I…I don’t understand.” Spy shook his head, weakly.
A pause. "Maybe one day, you will see. For now..." He helped the man up to his feet again. "I will show you little peak."
“Is it…safe?” He wobbled a little, and held onto the larger man’s arm to keep from falling.
"Yes. She cannot reach us through here. Doors are much too strong."
“Okay.” Spy nodded, still clinging to the other man tightly. His hands were trembling. “Show me.”
Heavy helped the tin man to his feet and led him to the door. There was a woman there - thin, half naked, and deathly pale. She was unblemished and almost seemed normal, if not for her long, thin clawed hands. Long, pale hair hung over her face like a curtain.
“Are…are you sure she’s one of zhem?” Spy whispered.
"Her hands. They are covered with blood, da? And the others... They ignore her.
Spy nodded, slowly backing away from the door. “Are zhere…ozhers like ‘er? Ozhers ‘oo seem…’uman?”
"Yes. These crying ladies.... Stay away from them. When they stop crying... You die." He pointed. "See her claws? They use. On you."
Spy gulped, and backs away further, trembling. “…okay, okay zhat’s enough. I’ve seen enough. Let’s just get away from ‘ere now, okay?” He sounded panicked, and even started to hyperventilate a little.
A nod. "Stay calm. She cannot get to us here."
There was a gasp from the woman on the ground. Her head whipped up, and Spy was met with her glowing red eyes.
Spy froze with fright. Still his breaths came quick and shallow. “Please don’t do it. Please…” He whispered, barely audible, but the tone clearly terrified, as his trembling, gloved fingers began to dig into Heavy’s arm.
A low growl as she began to stand up.
The bits of skin visible past his balaclava could not possibly have gone any whiter. “S’il vous plait….” He whimpered.
Heavy lead the man away quickly. "No more for tonight. Rest." He led him back to the mattress."
The growling grew softer, then finally stopped. Then, came the soft wailing again.
Still trembling, and whimpering softly, Spy laid down on the mattress. He covered his head with shaking hands, and shut his eyes tight, trying to block it all out.
Heavy laid beside the man. "Everything will be okay."
Spy just lay there, shaking like a leaf, and muttering to himself in French.
The soldier marched in, shotgun drawn. "I heard one of those cryin' girls. Where is she?"
Heavy shook his head. "NO. She is harmless outside. Leave her be, Soldier."
Upon the entry of the other man, Spy buried his face in the mattress again, ashamed of himself for being so scared. Still he trembled, though. He couldn’t help that.
Soldier ignored Heavy and went to the door. "There she is - that fuckin' white bitch... Eat lead, sweetheart!" There was a loud shot, and a horrible scream. Seconds later, she was at the door, howling in fury and trying to get to Soldier, claws outstretched.
Spy gasped, and watched the scene unfold, absolutely petrified. “You’re sure she can’t get in?” He looked to the Heavy, desperate and afraid.
Heavy muttered. "Doors are too strong. She cannot. But I do not like to kill them when there is no need. ."
"These ones - Witches - they will not attack you unless you attack first, stand too close, or shine lights in their eyes," Soldier muttered, reloading. "Thing is, they're too fucking dangerous to leave wandering around. She's gotta go." Another shot, and a shriek.
Spy covered his ears. “Stop it! You’re wasting ammunition like zhat! Just shoot ‘er in zhe ‘ead!”
"I am," he grunted. "Nother thing about Witches. They're a bitch to kill. Don't stop a fight with 'em that you can't damn well finish."
Shakily, Spy rose from the mattress and crossed to the door. “Zhey’re only a bitch to kill because you keep aiming so poorly. Give me zhat.” He held his hand out for the shotgun.
Soldier huffed, and handed it over. The witch hissed and swiped her claws again, trying to get the stockier man, still. Her face was dripping with blood, and bloody clumps of her hair had fallen around her thin shoulders.
Spy sidled over until he was in the Soldier’s place at the door (though far back enough that the witch couldn’t reach). He held the shotgun up, wincing a little when his wounded arm shifted, but aimed well, and fired. No more sound came from the Witch.
Soldier huffed. "Good. Now give it back. Nice to see ya DO got a spine, huh."
Spy handed the gun back, and limped back over to the mattress. “Don’t waste ammunition like zhat again. We might need it later.” Slowly, he laid back down, away from the Soldier, facing towards the Heavy.
"I DIDN'T WASTE IT, MAGGOT," Soldier snapped, snatching the gun back from him.
“ ‘ow many times did you fire zhat gun and not kill ‘er?” He still wouldn’t face the other man. He didn’t want him to see how pale he’d gone from the experience.
Soldier clenched his fists into tight balls, growling viciously. "THEY'RE NOT LIKE OTHER INFECTED!!! It takes more to kill them! I've killed at least three before - I know what I'm fucking talking about!"
“Zhey were ‘uman like zhe rest.” Spy spat, still facing away. “Zhat means zhey ‘ave zhe same limitations as ‘umans. Shoot zhem in zhe ‘ead, zhey die. Simple as zhat.”
Soldier took the man by the shoulders and shoved him to the ground. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR ATTITUDE YOU FUCKING--"
“WELL ZHAT MAKES TWO OF US!” Spy shouted back, trying to push the larger man off of him. “GET OFF ME! ZHAT ‘URTS!” The Soldier was pressing down, hard, on his wounded shoulder.
"I'VE FOUGHT HUNDREDS OF THESE FUCKERS BUT YOU SIT THERE ALL HIGH AND MIGHTY LIKE YOU'RE THE DAMN EXPERT!!! FUCK YOU!" Heavy tried to pull Soldier off, growling.
“GET OFF GET OFF!” Spy cried out, tears forming at the corners of his eyes from the pain. “Dégage! Dégage!” He whimpered, clawing weakly at the man atop him.
Heavy finally pulled the howling man off of Spy. "YOU'RE A LITTLE SHIT, YOU HEAR ME?! MAYBE IF YOU'D STOP FEELING SORRY FOR YOURSELF, YOU'D BE WORTH THE TROUBLE I SPENT RESCUING YOUR ASS!!!"
Sobbing, and exhausted, Spy rolled onto his side, clutching at his shoulder. Blood dripped from the bandage there, staining his shirt further. "What did I ever do to you?" He whimpered, finally looking at the other man.
Soldier huffed. "Coulda been anyone else who was immune, and you coulda been out there with the rest of 'em, dying and brainless. You got a chance at living you don't even fucking DESERVE! But all you do is sit there and whine and complain and cry like a GODDAMN SIX YEAR OLD! And you strut around all higher-than thou when this is you first time outdoors?! And I've been fighting these demons for DAYS, nonstop?!"
Spy sat there, looking every inch like a whipped dog. “…you’re right.” He replied, quietly, his tone flat and emotionless. “…you’re right.” He repeated, as he rose to his feet, and limped over to the door. “So go a’ead. Open it. Shove me out like I deserve, zhen.” He stared at the metal barrier between himself and death.
"..." Soldier scowled. "I don't want ya to DIE - I want you to get it fucking TOGETHER, already!"
“You said it yourself.” Spy glared at him, “I don’t deserve zhe chance at life I’ve been given. So go a’ead. Take it away.” He gestured, with his bandaged hand, at the door.
"So you're just gonna waste it?! That's even worse!"
Spy just stared at him. “…what zhe fuck do you want me to do, zhen?”
"Man up," Soldier growled. "You can DO this. And you WILL, as long as I'M around, cupcake!"
“……” Spy stared back at the door, and prodded the handle. “Exactly ‘ow do you open zhis zhing again?”
Soldier snatched him back. "... Don't do it," He commanded, voice wavering softly. He almost sounded as if he was... pleading...?
The Frenchman stared down at the hand that had grabbed him, and still held fast to his. Starting to understand, he looked back up at the Soldier. “I will stay on zhis side of zhe door only if you promise me some zhings.”
A grumble, then a soft, "What?"
“Treat me like I’m a ‘uman being, for one.” He listed off, “And listen to what I ‘ave to say. I ‘ave lived on zhe streets before. I am not entirely clueless as to ‘ow to survive, you know.” Some snarls from the other side of the door interrupted him, and he instinctively clutched at the hand nearest his. “Granted, circumstances are…different, but basic necessities remain zhe same. ‘ave we got a deal?”
"... Alright," Soldier muttered, folding his arms. He glared off to the side.
“Good.” Spy nodded, and then looked to the Heavy. “Are zhere any more of zhose medical sutures? I zhink a few of mine popped out, and I’d razher not bleed to death.”
A nod. "One moment." He disappeared.
Spy nodded, and sat back down on the mattress, still clutching his shoulder.
I haven't played L4D in a hot minute, but I believe you have to be standing in a very particular position to be able to Cr0wn a Witch. And if you miss that first important shot, once she's aggressive towards the player, she immediately becomes much harder to kill, taking several shotgun blasts to the face and anywhere else. So that's why Soldier's attempt at killing her didn't work right away despite him having fought Witches and living several times before.
Chapter 5: Fresh Faces
An unlikely pair meet up with Heavy, Soldier, and Spy.
Awkward silence passed between Spy and the Soldier as they waited for Heavy to come back for the medical supplies. With nothing but a few ambient shrieks from outside to fill the time, Spy decided to speak up again. “It’s not a bad idea, you know. Zhe boat. You just need a more…solid plan to make it work.”
"All I know for now is that we gotta head east summore,” Soldier replied. “Til we reach the coast. Then we go south. I ain't got a map, though, so I have no clue how close we are to it. Came here from Arizona." Pride clearly shone on his weather beaten face.
“Arizona?” Spy’s eyes widened. “Zhat’s quite far from ‘ere, isn’t it?” They were stuck in a fairly large city in Louisiana, near the border with Texas, so the idea that the Soldier had travelled across several states to get here… “ ‘ow did you get ‘ere?”
"I told ya," the man snorted. "I walked, mostly. Found a car once with a workin' engine and gas, but the roads were blocked off a few miles in."
“You…walked?” Spy was shocked. “ ‘ow….’ow long as… ‘ave zhese…zhings been around? Zhose…creatures. ‘ow long did it take you to get ‘ere?”
"Bout a week and a half. But it's been around longer. Started out in, uh... Pennsylvania, I think it was. So it had time to spread."
“It feels like it’s been…so much longer.” Spy stared down at the floor, deep in thought. He jumped when one of the creatures shrieked from outside.
"You're tellin' me." A pause, then Soldier sighed and sat on the floor. "When did you guys find out about this, huh?"
“I don’t even remember.” Spy shook his head, chuckling in an embarrassed way. “Everyzhing… so much ‘as ‘appened between now and zhen, I can’t even-“ Another shriek, and he flinched again.
Soldier motioned him over to come sit. "Ey... Sorry about all this, alright? I... I'm just.... tired. I want this to be over with. For good. It's hard ignoring the part in me that just wants to give up... Harder when the first real, talkin person you've seen in days is saying the exact same things as that part of ya you’re trying to avoid..." A pause. "I don't wanna give up. I don't wanna let them win."
Spy stood, limped over slowly to where the Soldier sat, and sat beside him. “I don’t eizher.” He squeezed the Soldier’s shoulder with his unbandaged hand. “It’s ‘ard, zhough, I know. So many people around dying -- some from zhe sickness, some from zhe creatures, some…some by zheir own ‘and. I know ‘ow it feels to look at zhem and zhink ‘Well, zhat doesn’t look all zhat bad, being dead. Maybe I’ll join zhem’. But we can’t give up. We ‘ave to go on.” Another shriek. Another flinch. “… I don’t know why, but we just…we ‘ave to.”
Soldier nodded, and looked up. "What the hell is that noise?" The infected made sounds all the time, but three loud shrieks in a row? It might have been an indication that a survivor was out and about.
“One of zhem, I guess.” Spy replied with a shrug. He still trembled a little. Then gunshots were heard and he looked up, too. “D-did…did you ‘ear zhat?”
Soldier grabbed his shotgun from the floor and bolted to his feet. "SURVIVORS!" he hollered. "Go tell Heavy when he gets back! I'm gonna go try to help 'em!"
“WHAT?!” Spy scrambled up, resting his weight on the wall. “You can’t go out zhere! You’ll be killed!” He grabbed onto the other man’s arm, to try and hold him back. “ ‘EAVY! GET OUT ‘ERE, NOW!”
"I CAN'T LEAVE 'EM!!!" Soldier tore himself away, and barged through the door, making sure to close it behind himself.
“Oh merde…oh mon dieu…” Spy crawled along the wall, away from the door, absolutely dumbstruck and terrified. “… ‘EAVY!” He cried out for the larger man.
Outside, Soldier was presented with a medium-sized horde of infected, only meters away from the safehouse. In the center of the onslaught were two men- one younger, one older. The junior was swearing profusely, and swinging at the attackers with a baseball bat, while shooting at them with a sawed-off shotgun with his free hand. Behind him, the older man, his neck bleeding, swung at the creatures with a large knife. “BLOODY ‘ELL! WHERE TH’FUCK IS THAT SAFE ‘OUSE?!” He cried out, kicking one of the infected away with his long legs.
Heavy rushed back, ready to force apart another fight. Instead, he found that Soldier was gone, and Spy was totally terrified. "Wh...Where is loud, yelling Soldier?!"
Soldier decided this was a job for Shovel. He began hacking at the monsters with his blade, yelling and trying to get the duo's attention. "OVER HERE, MAGGOTS!!!"
“HOLY FUCK!” The younger of the two jumped up and saw the other man. “PEOPLE! LIKE FUCKING ALIVE PEOPLE!” He began beating his way through the crowd. “COME ON!” The older man followed him, hacking away with his blade at anything that came near.
“…‘e…’e went out. Said zhere were survivors.” Underneath the mask, Spy had gone even paler, and looked about ready to fall over. “ ‘e’s going to be killed…what do we do?”
"YOU rest! I will go find! Be still!" Heavy grabbed his shotgun as well, and rushed outside.
"OVER HERE, MEN! We have shelter!" Soldier cried, trying to lead them through the crowd of screaming infected.
"SOLDIER!!!" Heavy barked, shooting his way through the crowd. "You should be RESTING!" He paused, catching sight of the other survivors.
“WOOHOO!” The young Scout jumped in the air, smashing the skull of an infected, and bounding over several others, firing shots as he went. He landed by the Heavy, panting, and firing into the crowd, to help his friend, who was still surrounded by the ravenous creatures. The older of the two hacked wildly at them, and kicked several away, but they still managed to scratch and bite at him, leaving rather bad wounds.
“NEED SOME HELP HERE!” he called out, still hacking away at the diseased, pulsating wall of flesh around him.
Inside, Spy was limping around as quickly as he could, in search of ammunition for his revolver.
Scout grabbed the older man by the hand and dragged him away, batting in skulls as he went. "C'MON, YA OLD FART - WE AIN'T DEAD YET! JUST A LITTLE MORE!!!"
"This way!" Soldier hollered, motioning them over. More infected began flooding the streets.
From behind the door, Spy fired out the slots, taking down five of the infected within a minute. He reloaded, and took out some more. Mentally, he was terrified, and screaming, but his hands remained steady as he helped to decimate the horde.
The door swung open. "BACK AWAY, SPY -- NEWCOMERS!!!"
Spy quickly limped to the side, still firing into the crowd of infected.
Heavy staved off the rest of the horde as Soldier and the two new-comers entered.
The junior immediately plopped down on the mattress, laughing and whooping over their victory. “MAN! That was fucking INTENSE!”
The elder leaned against the wall, panting, and bleeding, and much less amused by the event than his partner.
Soldier stumbled away, panting harshly with blood dripping down his arms again. He'd torn something while swinging around Shovel. Figured.
Heavy shut the door against the shrieking horde of fiends, and blocked it with a shelf, grunting. They went away faster if they couldn't see in. He turned to look at his injured new comrade and his freshly-injured old ones, and sighed. "Take seat. I will get to you shortly."
Spy stood there, watching the scene, and just backed into a corner, trembling. His hands still held tight to his revolver.
The RED Sniper took his place next to his teammate on the mattress, and awaited Heavy’s return. “Bloody hell.” He looked down at himself- at the wounds crossing down his arms and legs. “Fucking pikers.”
Heavy handed Sniper some medical supplies. "Here. To help you for now while I take care of other two. You know how to use, yes?" he asked softly.
“Yeah, mate. Thanks.” He nodded, and started smearing the antiseptic cream along his arms before applying the gauze to the messier wounds.
Soldier huffed, shaking his head when Heavy came near. "Not a chance, Ruski. Go help Spy first. He needs you more n' I do."
Aforementioned man just stood there, trembling slightly, staring at the two on the mattress. They looked so much like the ones from his team, and yet…they weren’t them.
The Sniper looked up at the staring man, and asked Soldier, "He alroight, then?"
“Yeah, what the fuck’s he staring at?” His partner chimed in.
Soldier growled at them. "Leave him be, you pack of frilly ballerinas! He's hurt and in shock, and he doesn't need YOU gapin' at him!"
Heavy patted Soldier's shoulder. "Rest, angry man. You are hurt, too."
"Quit talkin' about me and help HIM, god damn it!" Soldier thrust Spy into Heavy's arms, and marched off, head held high, even as he left a thin trail of crimson behind.
Spy just flopped forward in the Russian’s arms, limp as a ragdoll. His gun clattered to the ground.
“The fuck’s wrong with him?” Scout asked again, reclining on the mattress.
Heavy sighed. LOUDLY. "Please, quiet. Must concentrate. I will help you soon as possible."
“Awright, awright, jeez!” Scout rolled his eyes, and elbowed the Sniper. “Nice pick on the safe house, roo fucker. Full of weirdoes.”
Heavy cut Scout a glare that could melt the testicles off of a raging Tank. Scout huffed as if he didn’t care and discreetly sidled behind his older comrade.
In Heavy’s arms, Spy just whimpered softly, coming back into himself. “I am fine.” He whispered. “You can…let me go, now.” Still he didn’t stand back on his own feet just set. All of his weight was on the Russian.
"Shhhhh..." Heavy scolded lightly, lying him down as he prepared to operate as best as he knew how. "Be still - will only take a few moments."
“You gotta do that right here, man? Jesus!” Scout flinched, and looked away from the scene. “Ain’t there somewhere else you can cut him open or whatever? I don’t wanna see that shit!”
"Need any help, mate?" Sniper crossed, and stood behind Heavy.
Heavy nodded. "Yes. My fingers are too... eh... big for tiny needle and thread. Do you stitch?"
“I do.” He knelt beside him, and threaded the needle. “Got anythin’ t’sterilize it with?”
Heavy searched around, and found a bottle of rubbing alcohol.
Sniper used it to sterilize the needle, and pulled back Spy’s bloody shirt. “Bloody hell, mate. Those buggers did a number on you, aye?” Spy merely stared up at him, half out of it.
“No, seriously!” Scout still protested in the background. “Ya really gotta do this here?”
"Little Red," Heavy warned, "I asked nicely for quiet last time. Next time, will not be so nice. If you do not like, YOU go somewhere else."
Scout frowned. “Fine, I’ll go see what that other guy’s up to, then.” He shuffled out of the room, leaving the three alone on the floor.
Spy whimpered, and flinched when the needle first went in. “Easy, mate, easy.” Sniper held him down. “Ey, big guy. Little help here?”
Heavy applied his massive hand to the man's chest. "Stay still, little Spy. We are trying to help."
“Désolé…”Spy whimpered, nodding, and shut his eyes tight. Sniper moved quickly and carefully, stitching the man’s wound up properly, but the tenseness of the flinching muscles could still be felt under Heavy’s palm.
Chapter 6: Carrier Conundrum
Soldier shares his story of the fabled Florida Keys with young Scout, but quickly finds himself in dire need of medical assistance. Meanwhile, Heavy lets a secret slip that will later put the tiny group in danger.
“Yo, ‘sup with you, Pally?” Scout wandered into the sanctuary, and spotted Soldier sitting at one of the pews. “Why you all mad and junk?”
Soldier was sitting and clenching his fists together, teeth gritted in pain. He glared at Scout. "I don't know if you've noticed, Private, but he was near death back there, and you were actin' like a goddamn JACKASS!"
“So? What do you care? He’s BLU anyway.” Scout shrugged, leaning over the pew behind Soldier. “Who gives a rat’s ass about them?”
A pause. "Things are different, now. The war is at a stalemate. We've got bigger things on our hands now. We help them, they help us, and once we get somewhere safe again, we can fight just like old times."
“Dude, dunno if you’ve noticed, but nowhere’s ‘safe’.” Scout used finger quotes around the last word. “Only safer. Sooner or later those things still come bustin’ in. ‘s what happened t’us.”
"We're not going to a house, or even a building. Mother nature's given us our own little moat for protection against these things," Soldier hissed, cradling his shoulder. "We've just got to make it... The Florida Keys..."
“What’s that?” Scout hopped over the pew to sit beside the older man. “Whoa. Dude. Your shoulder’s like six kinds of fucked up. Y’oughta get that fixed.”
"Negatory. Not while Spy is still in the infirmary for his own injuries," Soldier growled through gritted teeth.
“Infirmary?” Scout snorted. “Dude’s laying on the floor in the fucking hallway. Don’t call that an ‘infirmary’, exactly. Hell, ‘s’probably not even sanitary.”
"Close enough," Soldier grunted. "You wanna know about the Florida Keys or not, kid?"
"Sure." He shrugged.
"Off the south coast of Florida is a few islands a few miles off the coast or so. It's close enough to still see the mainland, but far enough to stop any Infected from trying to come over. All of the survivors are trying to go there to rebuild civilization or some crap. You get there by boat, I think."
“Or swim.” Scout shrugged with a grin. Obviously kidding, but he could probably do it if he had to. “So we get a boat and sail our asses there, huh? That the plan?”
"Yeah. The hard part is getting there."
“Huh? Oh yeah. Zombies. Right.” Scout scratched his chin in thought. “Ya know what we need? One of those big fucking monster truck things! Run the whole city right over, zombies and all! Man, that’d be sweet, huh?” He laughed.
Soldier cracked a small smile. "Affirmative."
“So we got like anything t’eat around here?” Scout looked around the sanctuary. “Fucking starving, ya know?”
"Had a jar of peanut butter somewhere," Soldier muttered.
“You guys had fucking peanut butter?!” Scout looked around for it, excitedly. “Where’d it go? Where’d it go? Aw, man, I’d kill for a PB&J sandwich right now.”
"Don't know." Soldier's voice sounded softer now. Weaker. "Look for yourself, kid..."
“Where is it where is it...” Scout crawled around on the floor now, in search of the condiment. “SCORE!” He held the jar up triumphantly, and took a victory scoop with the spoon still stuck in it. “MANNNN that is fucking deliciousssss!” He moaned, laughing, his mouth full of gooey deliciousness.
Soldier gasped quietly, clutching his shoulder. "G...Get... Heavy..." he whispered, face construed in pain.
“Wha?” Scout looked up. “Ohshhh.” He mumbled, mouth still full of peanut butter, and ran out to the hallway. “HHHBBY. DHHD. GHHT HNN HRR.”
Heavy turned to the boy, with fire in his eyes. "SCOUT, I SAID QUIET! DO NOT MAKE ME ASK AGAIN, OR WILL BE BIG TROUBLE!!!"
“BHHT ISS SHHLDHHR! HSS HRRT! HRRY!” He mumbled, trying to swallow back the peanutty substance that felt like glue on his tongue right now.
Heavy blinked, trying to make out what the kid was saying.
Mouth currently unable to work, Scout resorted to mime. He gestured towards the other room, then to his shoulder, and pretended like he was in pain. Again, he gestured towards the room.
Heavy groaned with worry and rushed past the boy. He found the hardened American soldier helplessly bleeding out, with fear shining obviously in his bright, blue eyes.
Spy stared at him as he left, but found his gaze slipping away from him, and passed out. Sniper shook his head, and finished stitching Spy up. Once he’d rebandaged the wound, he gently brought Spy over to the mattress. “We got another one?” He asked, his voice echoing in the sanctuary.
"Da." Heavy peeled away Soldier's blood-soaked shirt and winced. Soldier's shoulder practically looked like hamburger meat, it had taken such a beating. Heavy wondered how long he'd been trying to keep it concealed.
“Bring ‘im in.” Sniper swept his arm, and turned back into the hallway. Immediately, he began cleaning off the needle, resterilizing it and the thread he passed through.
Heavy brought the man over, holding him carefully. It was obvious that Soldier was trying to tough it out wordlessly, but he nearly looked in tears.
“I warned him about that fucking shoulder, man1 I fucking TOLD him, dawg!” Scout chirped around the two, his mouth finally free from the peanut butter’s grasp. “I TOLD him, man! I told him about that shoulder! But would he listen? Noooo! Had to be all Mr. Tough Ass, and--”
"Eat your peanut butter," Heavy ordered, sounding everything like his mom.
“…fine.” Scout pouted. “Don’t wanna watch you freaks cut each other open or anything anyway.” He retreated back to the sanctuary for his jar of peanut butter.
“Christ…” Sniper exhaled when he saw Soldier’s wound. “You’re definitely gonna have t’hold him down, mate. This is gonna hurt.” He nodded to Heavy, and waited until the other man was securely pressed against the floor before he started to clean and stitch up the wound.
"Negatory," Soldier growled through gritted teeth. "I am perfectly capable of having enough self-control to hold still."
“Just hold him down.” Sniper growled, readying the needle. He knew that, in pain, most people couldn’t control the spasmodic jerks their bodies put forth.
Heavy nodded and held the man down gingerly.
With deft precision, Sniper began weaving the needle in and out of the torn flesh, sewing it back together.
It was considerably difficult - Soldier's flesh was mangled, raw, and squishy like beef chuck. The poor man whimpered and groaned in pain, shifting slightly, even as he tried his best to keep a brave face. Heavy was shaking his head, looking at the poor progress.
“Bloody hell, mate.” Sniper shook his head, but he kept stitching away. “We gotta get you to a real doctor. Dunno if I can do much with this ‘cept cover it up.”
Soldier smiled grimly, gritting his teeth together. "I had a feeling you'd say..." A wince. "...somethin' like that. The chances of us finding a doc out there in these times are next to nothin'." A pause. "From now on, I want to be in the front of the group, alright? I'll be the one to get the brunt of the pain if anyone tries to fuck with us. Probably won't make it out with this arm, anyhow."
Sniper looked up at the Heavy, lost as to what to do. “ ‘s a pretty rough order t’give t’someone you’ve known for all of ten minutes.” He replied, bandaging the arm.
A snort. "Well, someone's gotta play decoy. Might as well be me."
“What about your plan?” A soft, French voice interrupted them, and the Sniper and Heavy turned to look at Spy, still half-dead on the mattress. “Zhe Florida Keys, yes? We’ll never make it zhere wizhout your guidance.”
A snort. "Just go east, then go south. I've just been usin' the sun to guide me. It ain't that hard. You guys... You guys can do it. I'm sure of it."
“I’m not.” Spy rasped out, before his lids went heavy and he passed out again.
"Hmpf." Soldier looked up at the two men. "You'll be fine. I'm sure of it."
“Whatever you say, mate.” Sniper replied, unsure, as he finished wrapping up the bandage. “There. Did all I can. But we really gotta get you to a doctor. Him too.” He glanced over at the unconscious Frenchman. “Bloke looks like he’s lost a lot of blood. Has he?” He looked to Heavy.
A nod. "Da. Am not sure how we will move when is time. Two men are down. I could carry both, but that would leave three men down."
“We really gotta get us a vehicle.” Sniper wiped his bloody hands off on a nearby rag. “How’re we set up for supplies, here? Food, water, ammo, that lot.”
"Ammo and water are good. Food is... eh." Heavy looked unsure.
“Eh?” Sniper looked up. “What’s ‘Eh’, mate? We got any?”
"Yes. But... Not much. Not enough for five people. Not for very long."
"Maybe a week. But we must save food for the next people here."
“Piss on that, mate. No offense, but if there’s food, we’re eating it.” He stood, and chucked the rag in the corner. “Our own survival is our priority. We can’t be worried about some blokes wot MIGHT come ‘round here after we’re gone.”
Heavy frowned. "Is not right way."
Sniper frowned. “You see these two?” He pointed at Spy, and at Soldier. “They need food, or they’re gonna die. You got that? They’re here. They’re alive right now. But if we save our food for people that we don’t even know exist yet, these two, and the rest of us, are gonna starve to death. You want that t’happen?”
A pause. "Fine," Heavy finally said. "But I will not eat this food. I will go out and find more food so that it will last."
“Not alone, you’re not. Take Scout with ya.” Sniper picked up a discarded blanket, and laid it over Soldier. “Think he’s poking around somewhere in there.” He pointed to the sanctuary as he covered Spy with another blanket. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on these two.”
Heavy shook his head. "Not tonight. Tomorrow. Infected are still angry." Sure enough, there were still growls and mutters coming from beyond the bookshelf he's propped against the wall.
Sniper nodded. “Tomorrow, then.” He sat down on the mattress. “Now ya wanna bandage up my back? Took a wicked scrape from a Smoker out there.” He stripped off his shirt to reveal a rather large gash on his left shoulder blade. Goodbye medical supplies. They’d definitely need more after this.
Heavy chuckled. "Da. Will do."
that shit like a real fucking pimp and his cock grew three sizes that day the wound skillfully.
After he was done, Sniper put his shirt back on, and stood. “Thanks, mate.” He moved his shoulder, stiffly, testing it out. “So where we bunkin’? There room for us somewhere?”
"This mat is only one." He motioned to it. "Can sleep on chairs, though, yes? Very comfortable and padded."
“Reckon they’ll do.” Sniper nodded. “Any more blankets? Junior in there gets awful cold when he sleeps, surprisingly.” He wandered over to peer in the sanctuary. Scout was already passed out asleep in one of the pews.
"Yes, many blankets."
“Good. Gather’m up. We’ll give ‘em to these two and Scoot in there first, and then take some for ourselves if there’s any left.” He looked down at his arms. “Anywhere a fellow can wash up in here?”
Heavy shook his head. "Only water is for drinking. Pipes do not work."
“Same as the house, then.” Sniper grumbled. “Bloody hell, feels like I haven’t showered in months.” He leaned against the wall with a sigh. “I tell ya, if we do make it to the water, first thing I’m doin’ is jumpin in, t’get all this grime off.” He laughed.
Heavy smiled. "Da. Good idea." A soft, yearning sigh. There was nothing he wanted more than to take a long, relaxing bath... Maybe even go to a spa. What? Men go to spas, too, you know.
There was silence for a while, as Sniper studied the two sleeping men. “How long you, uh…you known these two, anyway?”
A smile. "Since yesterday."
“They, um…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “They…immune, d’y’know?”
"The Soldier definitely is. Walked here from Arizona. The Spy is, too. Got kicked out of his group for being what they called... 'Carrying'."
“ ‘e’s a carrier?” Sniper looked at the masked man nervously, and slowly backed away.
"I hear there are only carriers - people who are immune, like you and me - and people who are not immune. Like..." He motioned to the shelf, where there was mournful wailing from dying infected.
Sniper looked at the shelf as well, but then looked back to Spy. “That’s not what our Medic thought. He reckons there’s three types. Th’infected out there, th’immune, and carriers. Difference between the last two is the carriers get sick, like th’infected, but it takes a lot longer, and they’re wicked fierce when they do turn.” He sat down on the floor, watching the Spy, nervously. “He thinks that’s where ones like th’Hunters and Smokers come from.”
"Hopefully, is wrong," Heavy murmured quietly. "Is no way of knowing now."
“Nah. Poor blighter’s dead, anyway. Doesn’t make a difference to him now.” Sniper winced when his shoulder rubbed against the wall, but quickly righted himself. “Reckon most of them are now, too.” He glanced down at the floor, eyes filled with silent grief.
Solder shifted in his sleep and wrapped up Spy with his good arm. A tiny, sleepy mutter.
Heavy smiled down at them. "Is good to have someone else now, da?"
Sniper looked over at them, and chuckled. “It is.” He nodded. “Those two been together a while, looks like. D’you know?” He looked over at Heavy.
"No - have not. We all met each other yesterday. At first, they did not get along at all." A pause. "And what of you and your little Scout?"
“Been fightin’ those pikers since they came here. Us’n wot was left of our team.” He looked down at the floor again. “Less’n a few hours ago, there was six of us.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Can’t hardly believe it.”
Heavy's jaw dropped. "What happened?"
Sniper dug out a cigarette from his pants pocket, and brought it to his lips. He paused in lighting it, to look at Heavy. “You mind?” He pointed to the cig, not sure if he should light it.
Heavy winced, but finally relented a shrug. "Go ahead. But remember - this sacred ground."
Sniper nodded, and did the sign of the cross -- only slightly sarcastic -- before he lit the cigarette. He took a deep drag, and paused for a while, savouring the nicotine. “…it was a tank.” He finally answered. “Not the…military kind. One of those big-ass bludgers that throw rocks and shite. Huge horde followin’ him too. Took out damn near everyone.”
Heavy paled. “Have only seen one of those before... One time would be all anyone would need."
“Yeah, they’re…they’re pretty scary, mate.” Sniper inhaled on the cig again. “Ripped our whole house right apart. And of course, Pyro tried to set him on fire, to take ‘im down, but that just…that just burned everythin’ right to the ground.” Another deep inhale, and he put the cigarette out on the bottom of his boot. “Barely made it out of there alive.”
Heavy nodded sympathetically.
Sniper sniffed, hard, and wiped at his eyes. “ ‘m gonna…go check on the kid.” He stood and jerked his thumb toward the sanctuary.
Heavy nodded and got comfortable where he was.
Scout had fallen asleep, clutching the jar of peanut butter close, and muttering in his sleep.
Sniper traipsed into the sanctuary, and over to the pew where Scout was laying. He smiled, and sat beside him, ruffling his hair gently.
Scout jerked, holding the jar as if he was about to chuck it at the man.
“Easy, easy.” Sniper whispered, chuckling softly. “ ‘s just me, kiddo.” He stroked the boy’s hair. “ ‘s alroight. G’back t’sleep.”
"Aw, dude... Scared me half to death, there." He blinked, noting the blanket thrown around his arms. "W... Where'd this come from, huh?" Confusion.
“The bloody blanket fairy.” Sniper grinned. “Where d’ya think?”
A pause. "F...Fuh a minute, there, I thought it'd been my ma." Sadness for a second.
Sniper put a hand on his shoulder. “Now how could it’ve been your ma, eh? You know she’s sittin’ up in Boston, waiting for ‘er youngest little brat t’come home.” He grinned through what he knew was probably a lie.
".... Yeah..." A sniff, and Scout looked up at Sniper hopefully. "Yeah, ya right. My ma's stronger than most people. She had me, didn't she?" A grin.
“Scout, any woman wot can survive raising you can probably defeat the hordes of the undead single-handedly.” He laughed, putting his arm around the boy. “She’s fine. You’ll see when we get there.”
"So, wait... We ain't goin' with those other guys?" Confusion.
Sniper looked back into the hallway, and then back down to Scout. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He shook his head, dropping his voice down to a whisper.
"Why not?" Scout blinked.
“I just…I don’t, alroight?” Sniper sighed. “Just…go back to sleep, alroight?”
A sigh, then the boy nodded and rolled over to go to sleep.
Sniper patted him on the shoulder, and leaned back in the pew, to go to sleep himself. After a few minutes, he managed to doze off.
We've got so much of this to go, it's a bit intimidating to look at. So from now until whenever I come up dry, I plan on updating at least once a day, every day, until my reserve is completely gone. Hope you guys are ready to be super annoyed with seeing this shoved in your face until that's finished.
Chapter 7: He's A Witch
During a mysterious leave of absence by Heavy, presumably to get supplies, Sniper tries to take the situation into his own hands. Spy seems to be showing signs of becoming something inhuman, and he's been through too much to let those signs go ignored...
Trying out some different formatting. Still not completely sold on it, but eh.
Waking up that morning was the hardest thing Soldier ever had to do. But he had to do it. He had to stay in shape. Those blood-sucking parasites wouldn't get him without a fight! He dragged himself up, hearing every last bone in his body ache.
Spy was still there, asleep on his side, face as pale as milk under the balaclava. He didn’t stir at all when Soldier rose from the mattress.
Soldier paused, and went to feel for a pulse. It was there, but it was weak, and rather slow. His hand, even through the bandage, was almost ice-cold, too.
Soldier wasn't sure what to do. At a loss, he decided to give up his morning routine this time and share body heat with the man.
Spy whimpered softly when Soldier wrapped his arms around him, but didn’t stir otherwise. His lips fell open, and his breath could be seen in the room as very light fog. Soldier hoped he was doing enough.
Sniper traipsed in, having his morning cigarette, and rubbed his arms to keep warm. “G’mornin’.” He nodded at the men on the bed, quietly. “Am I interruptin’ somethin’?”
"He's really cold, n I dunno why," Soldier grunted, trying not to seem as worried as he felt. "Pulse feels weird, too."
“Yeah? Lemme see.” Sniper walked over, and cautiously picked up Spy’s arm. He felt the pulse there, and his brow furrowed in a frown. “Where’s the big guy at?” he muttered.
Soldier looked around. Heavy seemed to be gone. "He wasn't in there with you?" Confusion.
“Nah.” Sniper shook his head. “Maybe he’s downstairs.” He went through the doorway, and headed down the creaky stairs. “Heavy? You down here?” He called out.
Scout looked up from the box he was digging through in order to find some more food. "Huh? Oh, the big guy. Said he was stepping out for a bit to get some stuff or somethin'."
“WOT?” Sniper froze, and ran up the stairs again. He peered out the slats in the door, finally realizing ‘oh shit, someone moved the shelf. Should’ve noticed that before’. “Fuck. Oh fuck. Oh bloody fucking hell…” He paced nervously around the hallway.
Soldier was rubbing Spy's hands, looking worried. He felt bad for everything he'd ever said to the man. In fact, he'd probably been the one to cause this when he was so rough before... He felt like a... Like a brute.
Sniper turned on his heel, and faced the man. “Okay…okay, we got a problem.”
“Heavy’s gone.” He panted. “Think he went to get food and shite, but I fucking TOLD him to take Scout, for backup, and the bloody piker didn’t, so now he’s out there all alone, and…oh Jesus, he’s gonna be killed.” Sniper sat down on the floor, his head in his hands.
Soldier snarled. "I was out there by myself for DAYS, and so was Heavy. If he thinks he'll be okay, he'll be okay. there's no reason to doubt him until then."
Sniper just sighed. “If he’s not back in 24 hours, mate…”
"24 hours? Hell, I didn't say let's abandon him! Try twelve, son. If he's not back by the time the sun's going down again, I'll even come with you."
“I didn’t mean…” Sniper shook his head, and went to look out the door. “If he’s not back in 24 hours, mate, I’d say he’s dead, and that means one of us’ll have to go out and get fresh supplies. And you’re not going anywhere, with those kind of injuries.”
Beside Soldier, Spy started to stir a little, his eyelashes fluttering gently as he tried to wake up.
Soldier rubbed his hand more. "Spy? You there, Private?"
Spy groaned softly in his sleep, and weakly clutched at the hands rubbing his. Slowly, his eyes started to open a little, and he stared sightlessly at the two in front of him. A soft "Hein?" was all that escaped him.
“‘Hein?’” Soldier echoed. “Is that French for Handsome Devil?”
“Quoi?” He turned towards the other man, still quite out of it.
“Bloody hell, this ain’t good.” Sniper stood there, shaking his head.
"Maybe he's out getting medical supplies, too...?" Soldier suggested."
Sniper picked up Spy’s other wrist, and checked his pulse again. “Think it’s too late for that, mate.” He muttered, softly.
"He... He's not going to..." Soldier gulped. "I... Is he...?"
The Aussie sighed, and let go of the wrist. Spy watched him go, with a half-lidded, drowsy gaze. “I’ll be right back.” He headed down the stairs, to the storeroom areas. There he found a small, unused room they could lock and barricade. “It’ll do.” He nodded to himself, and headed back upstairs. “Alright, mate, ya gotta let go of him. ‘m gonna take him downstairs.” Sniper climbed onto the mattress beside Spy.
Soldier stared at him suspiciously. "What do you plan on doin'?" he growled.
“What needs to be done. Now move.” Sniper began gingerly scooping the skinny Spy into his arms.
Soldier relented, but pushed himself up on his feet. "I wanna come, too. Just in case."
“Y’should stay ‘ere and rest, mate. Keep an eye out for Heavy.” He hoisted the Spy up, and started making his way down the stairs. The poor Frenchman barely uttered a sound as he was carried. He just laid there, limp as a noodle, in Sniper’s arms.
Soldier huffed quietly, but relented.
Sniper finally made his way downstairs, and went over to the closet he’d left open. Gently, he laid Spy inside, locked the door, and went back upstairs. Immediately, he began looking around for the Soldier’s discarded shotgun. He found it in a corner, and headed back for the stairwell. Soldier was laying on the bed, fretting silently.
Sniper saw this, and stopped. “Heavy said you two only knew each other ‘bout a day. Were you…close, at all?”
"Huh?" Soldier asked, not understanding the man.
“Close. Like, mates. Friends, y’know?”
A pause. "Yeah, guess you can say that... Came to a... a sort of agreement, I suppose."
“Well…’m sorry, then, mate.” Sniper nodded at him, and gestured to the gun. “I’ll make it quick. Promise.”
Soldier jumped to his feet with a roar and tackled him to the ground. "YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HIM, YOU HEAR ME, YOU SLIME?!"
“IT’S GOTTA BE DONE, MATE!” He tried to shove the larger man off of him. “CAN’T YOU SEE?! HE’S BLOODY CHANGIN’ INTO ONE OF THEM! HE’S A BLOODY CARRIER! HE’LL BE A WITCH OR A SMOKER BEFORE WE KNOW IT!” He struggled against the weight of the other man, to no avail. “I GOTTA DO IT. LET ME UP!” He shouted, “SCOUT! COULD USE A HAND, HERE!”
"HE'S NOT FUCKING CHANGINGING! HE'S ONE OF US!!!" Soldier snapped.
“SCOUT!” He hollered again, “SCOOOUT! GET THIS BLOODY WHACKJOB OFF OF ME!”
Scout rushed in. "DA HELL JUST HAPPENED?! You guys havin' a lover's quarrel or some shit?!"
Sniper threw the gun over to the young runner. “Downstairs, in the closet. Spy. You gotta kill him. Go now!” he ordered, still trying to pry the Soldier off.
“WHAT?!” Scout asked with a gasp. “Why, man?!”
“He’s turnin! He’s one of them- the infected. Y’gotta hurry!”
"NO HE'S NOT!!!" Soldier hollered. "LISTEN TO ME, PRIVATE - YOU CANNOT KILL HIM."
“DO IT, SCOUT! DO IT! HURRY!” Sniper hollered over him. “IT’S TO SAVE US. YOU GOTTA DO IT!”
"H...HOW DO YOU FIGURE HE'S TURNIN?!" Scout squeaked.
“He’s pale, his pulse is weak, and Heavy said he’s a carrier. That’s proof enough.” Sniper wriggled under Soldier’s grasp. “He’s dying, and the second he’s dead, he’ll become one of them, and he’ll try to kill us. You’ve seen it happen, Scout. You saw it happen with Heavy. We can’t let it happen again.”
Scout shook. "I...."
"NO!" Soldier leapt on the kid, too, teeth ground together. "YOU CAN'T. YOU CAN'T! HE DOESN'T KNOW - SPY LOST A LOT OF BLOOD - HE'S SICK AND WEAK AND HELPLESS. WOULD YOU KILL A HELPLESS MAN, SOLDIER?!"
“He’s helpless now, but wait till he turns. Then we’ll be the ones who’re.” Sniper shook his head, and stood, finally free from the larger man. “Toss me the gun, Scout. Quick. I’ll do it.”
Hands trembling, Scout did as he was told.
"NO!!!" Soldier screamed. "NOT AGAIN. I WON'T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN."
“…again?” Sniper paused, halfway down the stairwell.
Soldier huffed, shoulders shaking. "... Please!"
Sniper frowned. “…wot d’you mean, ‘again’?”
Soldier shook even more. "I got bit. I was the first one. The entire damn team went in an uproar - said I would become one of them in hours, or even minutes. I was... dishonorably discharged from my position as a Soldier. Left to fend for myself out in this hellhole. But it's been days. I'm still here. I'm still human. I'm still ME."
His eyes darted around frantically. "I've been with a few survivor groups since then, and things were the same. One person would start coughing, and he'd be shot in the head because he'd probably turn into a Smoker or some shit." Panting as he tried to regain his breath. "I'm not letting it happen again. Not when it could've been me!"
Sniper frowned. “Then do it for him, mate. He’s bloody suffering. Put him out of his misery.” He held the gun out for Soldier.
"NO!!!" Soldier knocked it away. "HE CAN DO IT! HE CAN LIVE!!! He's STRONGER than this!" Soldier needed him. Needed somebody - something - to protect. To fight for.
“How d’you know, mate?” Sniper balked. “You’ve only know him for, what? Two days? And most of that time, he’s been unconscious.” He scoffed. “Bet ya don’t even know ‘is name, do ya?”
Soldier went silent. His expression - or what they could make of it - was stoic under his large helmet. Then, there was a sniff, and two glassy tears streaked down his face. "Don't..." he pleaded softly.
Sniper was silent for a long time, and then sighed. “I won’t kill ‘im. But he’s gotta stay locked up down there. ‘s for our safety’s sake, y’hear?”
"By himself? I'll stay with him," Soldier offered immediately.
“No.” Sniper ordered. “ ‘s too dangerous. We can’t afford to lose two of ya.”
"How much help am I, anyway?" Soldier shot back.
“A lot more help than a bloody corpse, mate.”
"A corpse wouldn't need to eat. You could stay here longer, or go whenever you wanted."
Sniper growled. “Fine. You wanna get yourself bloody hacked to bloody bits, then go bloody do it, but lock the bloody door behind you, because I’d like to keep my flesh where it is, thanks.” He gestured down the stairs, and made room for Soldier to go by.
Soldier nodded and grunted a quick, "Thanks," before heading down. Scout was silent for the whole exchange.
Spy was still lying there in the closet, half-asleep when he got there. “ oo’s zhere?” He called out, weakly, when he heard the door open. “What’s going on? Are zhey attacking? I ‘eard shouting.”
"It's nothin'," Soldier sighed, secretly relieved that the man was still talking. He'd nabbed two blankets with him. He laid the plushier of the two on the ground, scooted Spy on top of it, then wrapped the second one around them. He spooned the smaller man from behind, arms slung around him. "You feelin' any better?" he grunted quietly.
“Still ‘ungry, and very tired, but yes, zhank you…” He didn’t flinch from the embrace, but was weirded out all the same. “…what are you doing?”
"Keepin' you warm, numbnuts. Did you say you were hungry? I've still got some peanut butter if you want it. Oh, and I found a can of peaches, too."
“Mmm…” was all Spy replied with, before his eyes closed again.
Soldier shuffled over to the door, and knocked. "Hey. He says he's hungry. Throw us a can of peaches, some peanut butter, and a spoon, will ya?"
There was some shuffling, and then Scout opened the door a crack. “He ain’t gonna…like…eat me, is he?”
"He's still talking, Private. I'd say the situation is well under control."
“Okay. Hang on.”
He closed the door, and came back again with the peaches and a spoon. “Couldn’t find the peanut butter. It’s here, somewhere, I just messed shit up earlier, and now I can’t find it. Sorry.” He shrugged, holding out the food he did find.
"Good enough. Thanks a lot, private. Be sure to lock the door to help Sniper sleep better." A grin.
He chuckled, nervously. “Yeah. Kay.” He closed the door, and the telltale click of the lock was heard. Then the sound of feet crossing the floor, slowly fading into silence.
Soldier descended again, and sat Spy up on him. "Wake up for a minute, Spy. Gotta get somethin' in ya."
He half-struggled away from the man, grunting softly. “I told you, zhree francs! Give me zhe money first…” he mumbled.
Soldier nudged him gingerly. "Spy. C'mon, wake up."
“Hein?” He blinked, and opened his eyes halfway. “What is it?”
Soldier popped open the can. “I got your food here. C'mon - try to eat somethin'.”
“Food?” Spy just blinked, confused. “…it’s not peanut butter, is it?”
"Peaches." A chuckle.
“….I like peaches.” He replied, dully staring at the can. A few times his eyes threatened to close again.
"C'mon..." Soldier cut one up a bit and spooned it into the man's mouth.
Spy opened his eyes a bit, and chewed the bite before swallowing it with a grimace. “Ugh…warm…”
Soldier groaned aloud. "Can you juuust eat it, Frenchie?"
“I’m eating, I’m eating…” He reached for the spoon, but his hand fell away, and he sighed, tiredly, flopping against Soldier’s shoulder. “…I’m trying…”
"I'll do it." Soldier repeated the process, surprisingly gentle for... someone of his class.
Spy groaned, but ate the bite just the same. “Being spoon-fed like an infant…Why not just shoot me in zhe ‘ead and save me zhe embarrassment?” He chuckled, and opened his mouth for another bite.
"Eh. Nothin' to be afraid of. I had to spoon-feed my Grandpa when I was a young one, but he could still beat the stupid out of me any day of the week." A fond chuckle.
“I don’t zhink it worked.” Spy grinned up at him.
"Hey." A grin. "Watch your mouth there, Frenchie. I know over fifteen ways to murder a man with his own spoon, and 27 with a ladle."
Spy chuckled weakly, and his head rolled against Soldier’s arm again. “Soldier…where are we?” He seemed to finally notice his surroundings past the peach can.
Soldier paused. "Downstairs for now."
"Why? What's 'appened?”
"The infected were getting a little rowdy. Sniper wants us to stay down here for safety."
“Are zhe ozhers okay? Why aren’t zhey ‘ere?” He looked up at him, the worry evident even past his obvious exhaustion.
"They're fine, trust me. Just sleep, alright? I don't want you getting any more sick."
Spy looked down at the floor, and mumbled, very quietly, “…but I’m still ‘ungry…”
"Alright... hold on.... Alrighty - open up." Soldier smile at the man.
“What, no train noises?” Spy chuckled, but opened up anyway.
Soldier chuckled as well, happy. He was sure he'd made the right decision.
Over the course of the next twenty minutes or so, Spy managed to eat nearly every bite in the entire can, before he finally passed out on Soldier.
Soldier was fine with this. He went back to spooning the thinner man, and eventually fell asleep, himself, totally exhausted.
Chapter 8: Purple Areas
Heavy returns, Scout comes clean, and Sniper is forced to defend his actions.
Sniper’s hands shook as he inhaled on yet another cigarette. His gaze kept shifting from the locked door, to the door leading downstairs. Something dangerous could come from either one, at any moment. The nicotine did little to calm him away from this fact. “Where the hell is that butterball?” He grumbled. He was getting hungry, but he wouldn’t dare risk going anywhere near that closet.
As if on cue, Heavy burst in with bloodied knuckles and a trash bag full of loot with a huge grin on his face.
“JESUS CHRIST! YOU’RE ALIVE!” Sniper sprung to his feet. “SCOUT! EY, SCOUT! HE’S BACK!” He looked at the trash bag, “AND HE’S GOT STUFF!” He strode over to the other man, and helped him close the door. “Thought you were a goner, mate. What’d ya find?”
Heavy grinned, hefting the bounty onto one of the tables. "Food. Medical supplies. Maps, and chalk. Used chalk to make more signs to safehouse."
“Bloody beaut!” Sniper took the bag, and immediately began pawing through it, itemizing the contents. “Good on ya, mate. This should keep us going for a while longer. SCOUT! COME ON! CHECK OUT THE LOOT!"
The boy bounded outside, face broadly stretched with glee. "AWESOME, man! FUCK - ARE THOSE GRANOLA BARS?!" His mouth watered.
"Here. Dig in." Sniper tossed him one. "But don't eat em all. Gotta save em, alright?"
Organizing the food into piles, he sighed. "Guess I should probably go check on their wounds, aye?"
"Da." Heavy looked around. "Wait... Where IS Spy and Soldier?"
A pause. "....downstairs."
"... What are they doing there?" Heavy's voice had a slight warning tone to it.
Sniper shrugged. “Dunno.” He stared at a can of beans, and stacked it with the others. He tried to not make it obvious that he was hiding Heavy’s gaze.
“Don’t lie, man, he’s gonna find out one way or the other,” Scout muttered, biting his lip quietly. “We put ‘em in there and locked ‘em up.” He looked down at his sneakers.
Heavy exhaled loudly through his nose. "What are they doing in basement? Why would you force them there and lock them in?"
“They’re fine. Blabbermouth ‘ere gave ‘em some food a while ago,” Sniper grumbled. And the award for avoiding the question goes to…
Heavy slammed his fist on the table Sniper was stacking everything on, making the cans rattle ominously. "You will tell me EVERYTHING, or you get NOTHING. No food, no shelter!" he hissed through clenched teeth. "Now TALK."
Sniper paused for a long time, seeming to contemplate this. “ ‘e’s infected. The Spy. That’s why I locked him in.”
“And…” Scout added softly. “… Tried to shoot him, too.”
Heavy was horrified. "Spy is CARRIER, not infected! Shame on you! He has more right to be here than you! He was here first, and you try to kill him!"
“T’ protect the rest of us!” Sniper protested. “He’s getting’ sicker ‘n sicker, and I don’t wanna wind up as witch bait! Do you?”
"He's lost much blood! Of course is sick! And what about Soldier! Why you try killing him?!"
“I didn’t! The daft idiot went down there himself.” Sniper growled. “I tried to talk him out of it, but he’s a right crackpot to think there’s any hope of saving that Spy. As far gone as he is. We’re lucky he ain’t turned already.”
Heavy glowered at Sniper, furious. Then he turned his gaze to Scout. "And what about you? What part did you have in this?"
Scout raised his hands. “I-I didn’t do nothin’! I only did what Snipes told me to! Honest! I even gave ‘em food an’ shit!”
Heavy grumbled to himself. "I cannot trust you anymore. Spy is ally until we have more proof than sickness! If you try to hurt him again, I...." He shook his head, lips set in a stern line. "I... should not say."
“I didn’t hurt him.” Sniper grumbled. “It’s him wot’s gonna hurt us, soon. You’ll see. Then you’ll see I’m right.” He stood, and pulled a pack of cigs out of his back pocket. “Only hope it’s not too late, then.” He lit the cig, blew the smoke in Heavy’s face, and went to go sulk in the sanctuary.
Heavy growled to himself, then went to go check on the two injured men.
Spy was still asleep, wrapped up in the Soldier’s arms, in the closet, and was sleeping peacefully. He was still quite pale, and weak, but for now he could rest.
The next day was pretty tense for everyone upstairs - especially Sniper. Heavy shot him glances that spoke loudly of distrust and slight contempt.
Sniper shot him back glances of a similar nature, as well as knowing ones at Scout, that seemed to say ‘stay away, we don’t need them’.
Scout didn’t know about that. They DID have food...
Heavy sighed, not wanting to build any more ill will between the people he might have to rely on to survive. He stood from the table he was eating at, and nodded. "I will go check on Spy and Soldier."
“Fine.” Sniper shrugged, shuffling the deck of cards again, dealing them out to Scout. "Don't get eaten." he mumbled.
Heavy sighed and rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Quietly, he went downstairs to check on the two.
Spy still hadn’t stirred, but he’d seemed to have warmed up considerably, and was slightly less pale than he had been before. Still very exhausted, though, and so, he slept on, oblivious to anything around him.
Soldier looked up, paranoid and defensive. Though when he saw it was just Heavy, he calmed. "Oh, Good. Thought you were dead, big guy. You gotta have one massive sack, goin' out there by yourself. Anyways, I think he's doin' better. Looks better, don't he?"
The mentioned man shifted a little in his sleep, eyelashes fluttering.
Heavy nodded. "Yes... I can see. Does he... know about...?"
"Sniper? No - didn't tell him. Wait - how do YOU know about Snipes?"
"Scout, mostly. Was not happy with him, but... Is right to be careful." Heavy shifted. "It is... safe to wake him, yes?"
Soldier shrugged. "Iunno. Maybe. Hey, Frenchie. Ya up?"
“Hnnn…” He groaned softly, eyes still closed.
"C’mon, Frenchie. Heavy's here to check up on ya. Wakey, wakey." Soldier shifted him gingerly, to get him moving again.
Spy rolled onto his back, with a wince, and opened his eyes halfway. “Quoooi?” He whined.
"We're in America, son. Speak a language that ain't French. That, like, as opposite as you can get without being Russian. No offense, big guy."
Heavy just cut him a glare.
Spy smirked up at him, tiredly. “We are in Louisiana. Zhey speak French ‘ere.”
"...... Shut up - ya got company."
“Oh.” He noticed Heavy. “Allo.” He greeted. “ ‘ow is everyzhing upstairs? Okay, I ‘ope.”
"Yes. Everything is... okay."
“Per’aps we should come back upstairs, zhen.” He tried to sit up, his arms shaking from the effort. “Might be safer for us to all be togezher.”
"Er, no. Is okay. Is actually safer for you to be down here. Away from impediment danger, should something else happen. You two must recover - you are already looking better, I see."
Spy flopped back onto his back again, panting from the exertion. “…yes. Just…still tired.” He nodded.
"Still not done recovering. Stay where you are - Soldier will take care of you. Do you need food? I went and got more."
“You did?” Spy looked worried. “Are you…did you get ‘urt, at all?”
"Some cuts and bruises. Maybe scraped knee. Is no problem."
A smile and nod. "Yes. Was only outside alone for some hours. Have been out much longer - trust me."
“Okay.” He nodded, still panting. “Good… good.” His head rolled back on the mattress and his eyes closed again.
Heavy paused, unsure. "Did you say no? Are not hungry?"
“Starving.” He replied, without looking at the either, voice still rather mumbly.
"I will get you food. Granola bars are okay, yes?"
“What’s zhat?” He turned his head back to them, weakly, eyes still barely open.
"Hm... I will just bring you one, and you decide if you like it or not."
"OOH. ME. BRING ME ONE, TOO!!!" Soldier cried. His mouth was watering.
Spy looked up at Soldier and chuckled. “Okay. I will try one.” He replied to Heavy.
Heavy nodded and smiled. "Yes, very good." He disappeared through the door.
Scout seemed pretty nervous. He watched for Heavy, and as soon as he'd exited the back room, he pulled him aside. "So what's it like, huh? He screamin' or twitchin' or moanin' yet?" he hissed, watching the door fearfully.
“He’s turnin’ into an infected, Scout. Not havin’ sex.” Sniper deadpanned from the shadows, cigarette dangling from his lips. “How is he?” he asked Heavy himself.
"Seems to be doing better," Heavy answered triumphantly. "Is less pale, can hold conversation... Is just very tired, still. But is to be expected."
Sniper fiddled with his cigarette, seeming to contemplate something. Then he headed back upstairs without a word, still skeptical.
Heavy sighed, following him. "You don't believe me?" he asked.
“Did I say that?” He replied, without looking back, still puffing away on the cig.
"No. I did not mean to accuse. Is just hard to understand what you are thinking sometimes."
“You wanna know what I’m thinkin, then?” He plopped himself back in his chair at the card table. “ ‘m thinkin’ it’d be one less mouth to feed. Your haul’ll last us a while, but it’d last longer without him. ‘specially considering he’s liable to turn on us at any moment.” He dealt out the cards and started playing a round of solitaire.
"You would hurt -- no, KILL -- someone for... For... Because is easier?!" Heavy gasped, dumbfounded.
“Not easier, mate. Safer.” He replied, staring down at his cards. “Survival is key in times like these, and we’re more likely to survive if we off him. It’s nothing personal, mate. ‘s just common sense.”
"The sense of someone without heart!" Heavy cried. "If it is more food you want, I get for you. But we will not kill anyone before their time!"
“Who’s to say his time ain’t already passed, mate?” Sniper turned around on the chair, to look at Heavy. “If it weren’t for me comin’ along when I did, stitchin’ him up proper, he’d have bled to death, and none of this would be any sort of problem, now would it.”
"No, but it is, and we are not hurting him without cause - or because it is easy," Heavy responded. "When he gets better, he may be big help with infected problem."
“How?” Sniper balked. “As far as I’ve seen, ol’ Spooky’s nothin’ but a nervous bunch of bones. Probably too damn scared t’even shoot the bloody things.”
"He has been SICK, Sniper! And he has not had previous experience with them!"
“None of us had, before this whole mess got started, but we dealt with it! We survived!” Sniper stood up, angrily. “What has he bloody done? Huh? Answer me that!”
Heavy seemed confused by the question. "What have YOU done?" he asked.
Sniper paused, and frowned. He glanced down the staircase, and lowered his voice. “If it weren’t for me, the kid’d be dead by now. He’s so cocky, running off into battles, whooping and hollering. It’s me always leading th’infected away with a pipe bomb or something. It’s me always picking our next move.” He sat back down in the chair. “I’ve saved a life. That’s what I’ve done. Satisfied?”
"You have saved two. Little Scout and Spy's. If it were Scout who was injured instead, would you kill him, too?"
“ ‘s different.” He grumbled. “Scout’s a kid. He don’t know anything. ‘s up t’me to look out for ‘im.” He looked up at Heavy again. “And he’s not a bloody carrier, like Spy.”
Another sigh. "He has not turned yet. Once he shows more.... telling signs of being one of infected, then we do something. For now, he is very sick man who needs help."
“By the time he shows the more obvious signs, mate, it could be too late!” Sniper slammed his fist on the table. “We waited it out, with our Heavy. Look where it landed us.”
"...Your Heavy?" The giant Ruski seemed confused again.
“Yeah, we…we had one too.” He looked down at the table, and was silent for a long time, thinking. “…y’remember that tank I told y’about? The one that…that fucked everything up?”
"He... He was...?" Heavy bit his lower lip.
“A carrier. Yeah. Like Spy. Medic figured that’s why…why it took longer for him to…change…”
A sigh from Heavy. "But Spy is improving. That means nothing?"
“I haven’t seen him improving, mate.” Sniper frowned. “Bugger still looked pretty damn sick from the glances I caught through the door.”
"But is less pale and talking."
“And ‘ow can ya tell he’s less pale? He’s got that bloody mask on his face.” Sniper protested. “And talking don’t mean a thing. Heavy didn’t lose that till the day he turned.”
"We are not killing him," Heavy reaffirmed, standing to his full height. "If something would happen to you, I would protect you like Spy. Like I would protect everyone. All of us are survivors. All are worth saving to me."
Sniper frowned, unconvinced. “Even though I tried to kill him? You’d still do that?”
Heavy looked confused by the very question. "Yes... of course. Why do you not... think so?"
“Because I wouldn’t.” He crossed his arms, and leaned back in the chair. “Someone was threatenin’ my party, I wouldn’t give two shits about what happens to ‘em. So why should you?”
"In strange way, you still are trying to protect team. I just do not agree how. If you tried killing him for... fun? I would not let you stay."
“I don’t kill people for fun, mate.” He glared at Heavy. “That’s just sick, is wot it is.”
"I said 'if'. Not that you do. Am just saying you try to help. You are part of team. And are right in a way. Is big problem - this. But I want no killing."
“You’re in the wrong world, then, mate.” He stared out at the door, where the occasional infected could be seen, through the slats, wandering the street. “Killing’s the only way we’re gonna get out of this place. And you’re gonna have to do lots of it.”
"Killing of real people, I mean. You knew that," Heavy replied, more than a little irritated.
Sniper nodded, smirking a little. “Don’t suppose you managed to hold onto one of them miniguns, aye? Thing like that’d be bloody useful.”
"No." A look of grief briefly passed his face. "Sasha used too much ammo and was too heavy and... many other things. I could not keep her."
“ ‘m sorry, mate. I know how y’can get attached to your gun.” He leaned on the table, propping his head up with his hand. “I sure do miss my rifle. Could’ve just sat up in the belfry and picked these buggers off, one by one.”
Heavy nodded and sniffed. A smile. "There, see? We are still allies, despite different ideas. And..." An embarrassed smile. "Different colors."
Sniper nodded. “Yeah, we’ll just see how this all plays out, mate. Maybe things’ll work themselves out.” Outside, one of the infected shrieked, if for no other reason than to set ambiance.
Heavy nodded, then gasped. "Oh! Meant get food for the others. We may speak another time, yes?"
Sniper nodded, dealing the cards out again. “Sure, mate. Whatever.”
Scout watched Heavy’s retreating back until he was completely gone. "Look, I dun mean to be a… a sick fuck or nothin’, but… d’ya think maybe we should kill all of ‘em, get all the food we can, and haul ass? Iunno whether to trust these guys or not."
“We’re not killing anyone ‘less they’re a threat, Scout.” He dealt another card, and lowered his voice. “…notice I didn’t say ‘No’, though.”
A decisive nod. For Scout, things had to be simple. Black or white. "Us" vs "Them". That's what made fighting the war so easy for him. There was no gray - or purple - areas.
Still testing out this new format style. Why are these chapters slowly getting longer and longer...
Chapter 9: "Real" Heroes
Following an insensitive remark Soldier makes about the German occupation of France, Spy enlightens him about the realities of living under tyrannical, hostile rule. Soldier's world views are forever changed.
"Here." Heavy smiled, handing over two granola bars. "Take one."
"THANK SWEET BABY JESUS!" Soldier cried, snatching one away and biting into it eagerly.
Spy held his weakly, and stared down at the wrapping as he tried to remove it. Emphasis on the word tried.
Soldier was busy tearing into his, so Heavy sighed, plucked the thing away from Spy, opened it, and handed it back. "Try it now." Another smile.
The Frenchman looked at it for a moment, studying it, before he was hit with a moment of clarity. “Ohhh…” He nodded. “It is a cereal bar. I see.” He bit into his as well, and nodded at Heavy with a tired smile, confirming the food was good.
"That means a lot from him, big guy," Soldier chuckled, looking down fondly at the Frenchman. "I've never seen such a fussy eater in my life!"
“I am not fussy.” Spy pouted, swallowing the bite of granola. “I just don’t like peanut butter, zhat’s all.” Another bite. “Or warm fruit. I am not fussy. I just don’t like eating certain zhings. Everyone is like zhat.”
"Not during these times," Heavy admitted. "I never liked beans - especially canned. Never liked peanut butter, either. But, after days of starving, it is best thing in the world to eat."
Soldier nodded, knowing the feeling.
“I suppose.” Spy shrugged, and then looked at the other two, both seemingly deep in thought.
“But zhen, bozh of you two are…you’re not used to being ‘ungry like zhat, hein?”
Soldier seemed offended. "Like HELL I ain't! I didn't have an ARMY to feed me when I went all the way to Europe to crack some Nazi skulls in, mister! I had to use my wits, my strength, and whatever little bit of Polish I knew to survive! Damn fuckin' commies wouldn't take my good, red-blooded AMERICAN dollars!" A venomous grumble as he bit into his bar again. "I'm tellin' ya. Two weeks of living on spit-roasted badgers is enough to make ya go CRAZY."
"Um... Well, Spy, what do you mean by question? You have been very hungry like this before?"
“I ‘ave.” He nodded, biting into bar before. “Zhe reason why should be clear, at least for Soldier, given my ‘eritage. But zhen, I suppose if you were in Poland at zhe time, you would know very little about zhe occupation, yes?”
"The thing about you Frenchies giving up?" Soldier asked crassly. "Yeah, I know about that. Couldn't have been easy for ya. Wish ya had some Americans to bail you guys out sooner. Ya'll are more suited for... makin' clothes n' fancy donuts and expensive cigarettes - not fightin', really."
Heavy was rubbing his temples.
Spy just frowned, and looked away, eating the last bite of his granola bar. “You really don’t know anyzhing, do you.” He mumbled.
A pause, as Soldier considered the question. Finally, he relented a soft, painful, "No..."
Surprised, Spy looked back. “Do you know what zhey did to us? Zhe Germans. ‘ow zhey treated us?”
Soldier seemed pissed. "No, not a damn thing! Nobody would tell me! Nobody would ever tell me ANYTHING!" He hated the way people always used to look at him. How they'd smile and shake their heads at his ignorance, as if it wasn't even worth their time to teach him. He HATED those looks. He hardly bothered asking anymore - he just made up his own explanations for how things went based on the little information he had, and would go from there. He didn't need anyone else, after all.
“Do you want to?” Spy just looked at him, his expression unreadable.
Soldier paused, then nodded. "It'd be an honor."
Spy pushed himself up into a sitting position and promptly fell back down, with a soft cry of pain.
Heavy cradled the man. "Careful."
“Sorry…” He replied, voice strained from exhaustion, and the pain in his shoulder. He looked at Soldier again. “What was I saying again?” He panted.
"The occupation," Soldier murmured solemnly.
“Right…” Spy stared up at the ceiling. “I’m not even entirely sure where to begin, really.” He looked back down, at Soldier. “I was young, but…I remember zhe bombs- zhey wiped out ‘ole neighbor’oods- my school, many of my friends were killed. And zhey took our food away. And we ‘ad zhese little stamps zhat we ‘ad to use to get food, instead of using money. Only in certain amounts, zhough, because food was scarce. I remember standing in line, wizh my mozher, for an entire day, just to get a loaf of bread, only to be turned away when zhey ran out.” He paused for a moment, trying to remember more.
Soldier listened silently.
Spy continued, “I remember zhe smell of zhe cars- zhey were different from before. Zhey ‘ad to burn wood or charcoal instead of gasoline, because zhe fuel was in such short supply. And I remember, when I started to grow more, my mozher came ‘ome one day, and ‘ad new shoes for me. Zhe soles were made of wood. Not leazher, like my old ones. I remember zhey were…so uncomfortable… And my…my fazher, ‘e…’e used to drink coffee all zhe time, but…zhey took zhat away, too. So ‘e drank chicory instead, but it…’e never liked it.”
The bastards... Soldier thought. Messing with a man's coffee...
He was silent for a while, in thought. “My fazher, ‘e….’e went missing. I never really found out what ‘appened to ‘im. Some told me ‘e was arrested by mistake, wizh a group of Jews, and sent to a…a deazh camp… ozhers said ‘e got taken to Germany, wizh many ozhers, and forced to work for zhem, but…eizher way, I…I never saw ‘im again after zhat….Never really knew what ‘appened to ‘im…Probably never will…”
Soldier just nodded. "How was your mother?" he squeezed the man's hand comfortingly.
Spy immediately snatched his hand away, and looked at Soldier as if he’d committed some offense. “…she was sick for a long time, and zhen she died. But…not from zhe sickness.” He whispered, clearly growing a little emotional from talking about all of this.
"From...? ...Oh..." Soldier fell silent, with a sigh. "Sorry to hear that, Frenchie. If only we'd gotten there sooner, then maybe she wouldn't have died from--"
“From an American rifle.” Spy finished, frowning. “She was killed by one of your countrymen during zhe liberation.”
"Wh... What?!" Soldier gasped, eyes wide. ".... WHAT?!" He said it louder as if it would somehow change what Spy had said. Or, perhaps, history, itself.
Spy was silent, and stared at the floor, refusing to do anything even close to crying.
"It was a mistake, no doubt!" Soldier cried, voice reaching a frantic pitch. "Even great American heroes can make mistakes sometimes! I'm sorry for your loss!"
Spy looked up at him, and just shook his head, before turning to lay it down on Heavy’s chest. “I’m tired.” Was all he said in response.
"IT WAS A MISTAKE, WASN'T IT?!" Soldier demanded, grasping the younger man. "An American would never do such a thing!" His horror was tangible. One of his fellow countrymen - a soldier - like him - had harmed - KILLED - an innocent. An innocent they were trying to RESCUE. A WOMAN. A widow with a child! "What happened afterwards?! Did they take care of you?! Those son of a bitches had better of taken you in - given you a warm home and a family that cared about you and food and real shoes, and--"
“You want to know what zhey did to me?!” He shrieked back at him. “What zhose SICK BASTARDS did to me?!” He ripped off his balaclava. Underneath, there was nothing out of the ordinary- just grimy black hair, pale face with angular features…and a scar shaped like a swastika on his right cheek. It was almost hard to make out from the other scars, that looked like scratch marks over top of it, but it was still quite painfully evident. “ZHIS is what zhey did to me.” He continued, seething with rage. “If zhey can do zhis, do you really zhink what zhey did to my mozher was just a mistake?!”
Soldier looked like a horrified child who had just watched his beloved pet kitten get drowned out of sheer malice. "But... Why...?" He asked, trembling, his eyes wide and glassy with tears. "Why...?"
“Because in zheir eyes, wizh what I did for zhe Germans, I was just as bad as zhem.” His eyes were glassy too, but his face remained stoic.
"... What?" Soldier didn't understand. He couldn't.
“I…sold myself to zhem. Information, at first, zhen...when I got older...my...'services'.” Spy continued, looking down at the floor, ashamed. “My mozher was sick, and we could not afford medicine….it was zhe only way.”
"..." Soldier took the helmet off his head and pressed it to his chest, looking at Spy with such a tender display of sorrow, it was almost tangible. Then he tossed the helmet away, and hugged Spy close, sobbing. "I'm sorry..." he whimpered. "I'm sorry..."
Spy sobbed back, but tried not to. “Zhey did it too, you know.” He hiccuped. “Zhe Americans. French, Germans, anyone ‘oo would pay me, I went wizh.” He sniffled, burying his head in the older man’s shoulder. “Fucking ‘ypocrites…”
"You're better than that... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." For the first time in his life, Soldier didn't feel like an American, anymore. More than that, he didn't want to be.
Spy lay there, limp in the Soldier’s arms, refusing to admit that it was his tears staining the shirt in front of his face. Hiccuping dryly, he looked back at Heavy a little, and asked, “ ‘ave we got any water?"
Heavy, who had been silent throughout the entire conversation, nodded and smiled. "We do. I go get, da?" He patted the man's hand gingerly. "Thank you for story... You are... very brave. And very strong."
“At zhe moment I certainly don’t feel it.” He rasped into Soldier’s neck. “Can I lay back down, now, please?”
Soldier nodded and set the man down, tucking him into the blanket. He still needed some time for himself, though, and sat facing away from the Frenchman with his face in his hands.
Spy wiped at his eyes before pulling the balaclava back down over his face. He was silent for a while, and then looked over at the Soldier’s back. “I’m sorry…” He whispered.
"What? Why...?" the man asked quietly, glancing back at the Frenchman. "It was me... my countrymen that..." He couldn't finish. The words stuck in his throat, ripe with horror.
“It was your countrymen zhat ‘elped, too.” He replied, softly. “An American soldier found me on zhe street, crying over my mozher, and took me to zhe ‘ospital zhey’d set up- ours had been…destroyed, I guess. And…well, zhe doctors zhere, most were English, but…but some were American….I zhink.” Weakly, he pushed himself up on his arms. “I don’t blame your entire country for what one group of soldiers did.” Again he fell back down. "I did....at first, but...not now....not anymore..."
"Stay down, son..." Soldier said quietly, stroking Spy's back tenderly. "You might hurt yourself again."
A pause as he considered what Spy said. A sigh. "And...still... It's... It's not the same. I... Being American doesn't mean anything at all. We're as scummy as the rest of the world. You were treated better by the damn Nazis than us. We were supposed to SAVE you, and instead, we... We hurt you... We hurt your mother, too. Innocents... Civilians!" His voice was filled with emotion. He tried to control it. A gulp. "You... You deserved real heroes."
Spy paused, and looked up at him, with just the smallest grin. “Well…we ‘ad zhe Canadians.”
A soft chuckle.
Soldier grimaced. Not exactly what he needed to hear at the time. UGH! Simple CANADIANS were more noble than Americans now! He felt himself yearning for a drink.
Spy’s small grin fell when he saw the American was less than pleased, and turned his face back into the blanket. “…sorry. I…I meant for zhat to be a joke…we laugh at zhe Canadians, too, you know, and zheir attempts at being French. I just….never mind.” He turned away entirely, and stared at the wall.
"No..." A small chuckle. "We... We Americans used to... Used to laugh at them kind of being like us, too..." Another chuckle. "Guess mixing nationalities is like mixing paints, huh? If you try to be both one and another, you end up as neither, huh?"
“No, you end up as somezhing new. Somezhing different.” Spy replied, still staring at the wall. “Hopefully not somezhing zhat awful mustardy-brown colour.” He stuck out his tongue in disgust. “…you really need a shower, by zhe way. You…what’s zhe word? Reek? But zhen I probably do too, hein?”
Soldier sighed. "Well, I guess it doesn't really matter, huh? Not like we can do anything about it..." He twiddled his fingers awkwardly. He felt so naked and vulnerable without his helmet. But he wouldn't put it back on. He refused. Someone of his country had hurt an innocent. Probably more than just Spy and his Mom. That was nothing to be proud of. But still... All his life, he had been an... An AMERICAN. What else could he be? What else was left for him? He rubbed his temples, head aching even more than his wounded shoulder.
“Give any more zhought to your plan wizh zhe boat?” Spy asked, his voice taking on that edge of sleep again.
"Maybe later..." Soldier murmured softly, looking down at his dusty shoes. "Don't go to sleep yet. Heavy still ain't come back with your water."
“I know…” He yawned, and started to fall asleep anyway. “Did you…zhink about going zhrough zhe gulf instead?” He yawned again. “Instead of walking to zhe Atlantic, I mean.”
"... What...?" Soldier blinked, looking back at the man.
“Florida’s a peninsula, yes? Sticks out right in zhe ocean, and zhe keys are just souzh of it, you said.” He shifted, and rolled onto his back, wincing when it hurt his shoulder. “Why not just save zhe land travel and get a boat ‘ere in Lousiana? Get zhere zhat way?”
Soldier thought on this for a few moments. "Hmmm.... That's... That's a--"
Heavy arrived again with the water. "Careful - is still hot."
Spy tried to sit up again for it, but just sighed, and let his head flop back on the blanket, exhausted. “Oh, just dump it on my face, I’ll suck it off my mask when I wake up.” He let his head roll to the side and his eyes close.
Heavy chuckled and stuck a straw between the man's lips. "Careful. Sip slow."
Spy complied, wincing a little at the initial sip. It really was hot. But he let it cool for a few minutes, and then sipped at it again, eventually finishing the mug. “Zhank you.” He said to Heavy, eyes barely open at all now.
"Goodnight. Get some rest." Heavy nodded at Soldier, who still seemed to be mulling things over. "Be taking things easy." He left again.
“So you were…saying…about zhe…boat zhing…” Spy slowly trailed off, unable to even turn his head toward the other man anymore. “Is it really night already?” He asked, quietly.
"No. But you really should sleep more. It'll do you some good."
“Why am I so tired?” He exhaled, genuinely confused. “What’s wrong wizh me?”
"You lost a lot of blood. Your body's more preoccupied with replacing it than anything else right now."
“I suppose…” he trailed off again, and was completely silent.
After a while, Soldier went back to snuggling the thin, younger man. He held him close, as if the rest of the world somehow felt more real with him around.
Several days passed, and Soldier continued staying with Spy with no complaint, keeping the Frenchman warm at night, and talking with him and feeding him whenever he needed it. It was thanks to the masked man that their new plan of action - sailing across the gulf instead of walking to the Atlantic - was formed. Soldier never put on his helmet again and tossed aside his dog tags - opting instead to wear a worn straw hat he found in one of the back rooms. Everything went fine... for a while.
I might have found out what was making the chapters look so weird and spaced out. I'll probably go back and fix the formatting for the rest of them if this actually fixes the problem. We're almost at the end of the "Church" arc, so if you're hoping for a little more action and a little less standing around and debating, that's coming up soon.
Chapter 10: Moving Out
Soldier begins having complications due to his injured shoulder, and the group is forced to leave the safety of their shelter to try to seek out someone who might be able to help him.
When Spy woke up that day, he found Soldier was feverish to the touch and sweating profusely. A quiet whimper from the once very proud man.
“Soldier?” He whispered, concerned. “Soldier, can you ‘ear me?”
"Yes..." Soldier hissed between clenched teeth. There was no telling how long he'd been awake. His entire face was contorted in pain.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong? Why are you so…what’s wrong?” Spy was at a loss. He didn’t know what was making the other man so sweaty and warm, and apparently in pain, and hell if he knew how to fix it either. “Should I get ‘elp?”
"Yes. Please..." the man whispered. A tear streamed down his cheek.
“Okay…okay…” He nodded, growing ever more worried. “I’ll go…get ‘elp.”
Weakly, he struggled to his hands and knees, and crawled towards the door of the closet. Trying the doorknob for the first time since he’d been put in here, he was surprised to find it wouldn’t work. “EY! EY, is anyone out zhere?” He called out. “Soldier’s ‘urt or sick, or somezhing! Please, ‘elp!”
He paused, panting, worried when he couldn’t hear the sounds of anyone moving around outside. “Why is zhe door locked? What’s going on out zhere? EY! Can anyone ‘ear me?”
Someone shook Sniper awake.
“E, wot? Huh?” Sniper blinked his eyes, and jerked his head up. “ ‘s goin’ on?” He mumbled, sleepily. “The bloody hell did you wake me for?”
"It's that Spy fellah," Scout whispered. "He's making noise for some reason... I.... I got spooked," he admitted, feeling a little bit silly.
“Go tell the big guy, then. ‘m bloody tired.” Sniper turned away on the mattress. “ ‘s his problem now, not mine.”
"You tell 'im! I ain't wakin' him up!" Fear shone plainly in the kid's eyes.
Sniper thought about it for a minute, and then, with an exasperated sigh, he rose from the mattress and began to trudge into the sanctuary, where Heavy was asleep in one of the chairs. “Oi. Big guy. Wake up.” He kicked the other man’s foot lightly. “Wake up.”
"If Tank is not attacking, I do not care," Heavy muttered in reply. He rolled over.
“It’s Spy. Think he’s startin’ to turn.”
Heavy was up immediately. He looked at Sniper warily. "You.... You are sure?"
“Scout said he’s makin’ noise and stuff. Never done that before, ‘as he?” Sniper crossed his arms and looked at the floor. “…Soldier’s still in there with him, ain’t he?”
"Yes." Heavy had a sinking feeling in his gut. A sigh. "Bring shotgun to me."
Sniper nodded, and had the gun waiting for the larger man when he began the descent into the church’s basement. He followed behind with his knife, just in case.
Heavy paused by the door, and called, "Spy? Is everything okay?"
“ ‘eavy? Oh zhank god, I zhought…” Spy’s voice called out from the other side. “Somezhing’s…somezhing’s wrong wizh Soldier. Please, you ‘ave to ‘elp ‘im.”
"Spy?" Heavy gasped. He hadn't expected the man to use actual words. He shoved the gun into Sniper's hands, and unlocked the door, rushing inside. "Something is wrong? What is it? Take me to Soldier."
“ ‘e’s over zhere.” Spy pointed. “ ‘e as a fever, or somezhing, I don’t know.” He slumped against the wall, too tired to move anywhere right now.
“You don’t know, huh? Right…” Sniper grumbled, his knife in plain view as he stood outside the door. Spy looked over at him, confused, but said nothing.
Heavy went to examine the man wriggling about in pain on the floor. He felt the man's forehead, and flinched. "Is too warm! Soldier! What is wrong???"
Soldier looked up at him, cheeks streaming with tears. A sob. "M...My.... arm... It's t.... too much...."
Alarmed, Heavy removed the man's shirt, and groaned at the sight.
The man's shoulder was inflamed and gushing with an odd, foul-smelling puss. It was badly infected and needed to be treated right away.
"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Heavy scolded lightly, wrapping it up once more.
Soldier just shook his head, apparently meaning "I don't know."
Slowly, Spy crawled his way over to the other two. “What is…wrong wit ‘im?” He panted. “Can you fix it?”
Heavy shook his head. "Am not Doctor. We cannot stay here any longer. Have to find someone who can help him."
“What?” Spy was shocked. “But ‘ow…’ow will we get anywhere? ‘e’s seriously sick, I can barely crawl- let alone run. We…we’ll never make it.”
He was trembling just thinking about it.
Heavy thought. "I can carry you both. You together are same as S.... Sasha." He eyed Spy again. "Maybe lighter. But I cannot wield gun holding two people at once."
“But we…you…” Spy looked around nervously, and his eyes landed on Sniper. “Zhere must be some ozher way, yes? A…a ve’icule, or somezhing. Some way we can get away safely?”
Sniper merely frowned at him, and shrugged.
Spy looked down at the ground, defeated and terrified.
"Not that I know of," Heavy muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have looked everywhere."
Soldier gave a small cry of pain, shaking silently on the floor.
Spy paused in thought. “What about up?” He looked up to the ceiling, seemingly formulating a plan. “It’s risky, but…but it might work.”
"Where would we go after that?" Heavy asked.
Silence for a moment, while Spy thought. “Bring me a phonebook.”
Heavy blinked. "I... I do not think I have one..."
“Zhere must be one somewhere.” Spy crawled to the door, but Sniper blocked his way. “Move, please?” Sniper didn’t budge. He just stood there, frowning with distrust.
Heavy glared at Sniper, as if saying, "This isn't the time!" Then, he said, "Do not worry, Spy. Sniper will get one for us, yes?" Another glare at the uptight Aussie.
Sniper glared back, silent for a moment, and then left. A few minutes later, he was back with a very old, very weathered copy of a phonebook, and plopped it into Spy’s lap. “Wot d’you plan on doin’ with that, now?”
Quickly flipping to the yellow pages, Spy replied, “Looking for listings of pharmacies, ‘ospitals, medical clinics…Zhere must be someone at one of zhem ‘oo can ‘elp us.”
"And wot d'we do without a phone?"
"It has the address next to phone numbers," Heavy pointed out. "Maybe if we go to one, will find a trail leading us to another. Is better than wandering around, da?"
Spy looked at him, and nodded. “Don’t suppose zhere’s a map in zhis zhing, is zhere?” He flipped through the pages, but found nothing.
Heavy raised his hand. “I have map - is no problem.” He pulled it out of his pocket to save the time it would take to write him fetching the silly thing.
Conveniently, he pulled out a pen as well, and Spy began marking out their current location, and the various medical centers around the city.
“Okay, so zhere’s…” he counted, “A clinic, and a pharmacy, bozh wizhin walking distance. Zhere’s an ‘ospital a little furzher away, too, but we’d ‘ave to go zhrough zhe park again. What do you zhink?” He looked up at the men.
Sniper just glared back. Chatty today, isn’t he?
Heavy willed Sniper's head to burst into flames from his gaze alone.
It's not very effective...
Heavy exhaled through his nose carefully. "Spy, give us one moment, please."
The Frenchman nodded, and crawled his way back over to Soldier, to check on him.
dragged pulled Sniper to another corner. "If you do not stop being mean to Spy, we will have problem," he hissed angrily.
“Oi, lay off! ‘m just being cautious! No reason to go flinging me about like a great old ox!” Sniper retorted.
Spy looked over at them, concerned. "What's going on? Why are you two fighting?"
"There's being cautious, and there's being mean! STOP IT!" Heavy snapped, barely able to control his temper.
“Why are you fighting? What’s wrong?” Spy called out again.
Sniper, shocked by the larger man’s anger, just backed up into a wall. “Oi. Back off, mate.” He held up his knife. “Don’t make me use this on you.”
"You act right, and maybe I won't have to use THIS on YOU!" Heavy threatened, balling a fist. "Spy is trying to help Soldier, and you just continue being no help at all!"
“I AM bloody trying to help, but none of you lot would let me end the problem and blast his fucking head in!” He shouted back.
“…what?” Spy stared at them, utterly shocked and terrified.
Heavy sighed. "Spy, I have been keeping something from you..." Heavy admitted quietly. "Sniper thinks that you are turning into powerful infected slowly - because you are carrier and not immune. He wants to... to kill you. Soldier and I have kept him from doing so."
“What?! But I…I don’t…I’m not a carrier! I told you zhat! I’m immune just like zhe rest of you! Why would…why wouldn’t you tell zhem?” Spy was trembling now, fearing that all of the men in the room would suddenly try to kill him now.
Heavy blinked. "You said you were carrier, yes?"
Spy shook his head. "No. I told you zhat my team ZHOUGHT I was zhe carrier, but I wasn't! It was Medic zhe 'old time! I told you zhis when we first met, for god's sake!"
"You... Did...?" Heavy's expression grew puzzled. "I... I must have... gotten confused..."
“So…you’re not a bloody carrier?” Even Sniper was confused now.
“No.” Spy replied, still trembling. “I never was, and I never ‘ave been. Medic did blood tests on all of us. ‘e found out ‘e was zhe carrier just as zhe idiots zhrew me into zhe street to die.”
"They didn't take you back?!" Scout piped up, incredulous.
“…zhey died. Trying to prove zheir stupid little point. Zhe rest took me back in, and Medic treated my injuries before ‘e…before ‘e left.”
Heavy looked at Sniper, then at Spy apologetically. "Was my fault whole time... I am sorry to you both. Must have gotten, er… Lost in translate."
Soldier moaned weakly, reminding them he was still very alive and in a lot of pain.
“Apology accepted. Now what are we going to do about ‘im?” Spy gestured to Soldier. “Zhree options. Clinic, pharmacy, or ‘ospital. What’s it going to be?”
Heavy thought. "Clinic. Most hospitals overrun by previous attempts to cure Infection."
“My money’d be on pharmacy.” Sniper piped up. “They’re more likely to have supplies we’d need, even if there ends up bein’ no one there.”
Heavy nodded. "Very very good point."
“I don’t know.” Spy looked down at Soldier again. “We are more likely to find a doctor or somezhing at a clinic, aren’t we? And zhat’s what we need- someone ‘oo knows ‘ow to…’ow to ‘elp ‘im. Supplies only go so far wizh limited knowledge.”
Sniper looked over at Scout. "Wot d'you think, kid?"
Scout shuddered. "Iunno... Let's get supplies at the pharmacy then check out the clinic."
“Zhey’re too far apart.” Spy shook his head. “One is nord, zhe ozher is sout.” He looked at the map again. “Per’aps…maybe I should look at zhe ozher places around zhem. See if zhere’s a grocery store near zhe clinic, or a place where we can get ammunition. Let zhat be zhe deciding factor, yes?” Without waiting for an answer, he began scouring the yellow pages for the information.
After a few minutes, he’d effectively charted down the entire city’s industrial and commercial district. “Alright.” He handed the map to Heavy. “Anyone want to take over zhe decision? I need to rest my eyes.” He flopped back on the blanket, shutting his eyes against the light that seeped in through the open door.
Heavy looked over everything. "Pharmacy has weapons shop across street. Makes sense that people would go there."
“Which means it might already be cleaned out.” Sniper pointed out. "Might go there and find nothin. What's near the clinic?"
"Food places, too. All are most likely gone, or can be stashed in one location. Why bring supplies very far when you can build fortress and hide away until all passes?"
“True.” Sniper nodded. “Think trekking to th’hospital’s worth it?”
Heavy looked. "Businesses. Not much we can make use of."
“So the pharmacy’s probably our best bet, eh?” Sniper asked as he leaned over, looking at the map.
Heavy nodded. "Yes. Let's go before night falls. Is harder to see enemies then."
Spy sat back up. “Do we ‘ave any Sniper rifles?” He looked over at Heavy.
“Don’t have mine, ‘s all I know.” Sniper replied.
"Hunting Rifle is closest we have. Is not powerful like Sniping rifle, but has scope and is ranged," Heavy muttered. "Not good idea anyway. Spy and Soldier cannot shoot and I will have to carry them. No time for long-ranged shooting."
“It is if someone stays be’ind.” Spy replied.
Sniper was quick to cut in. “Oh, bloody hell, no, mate. Y’ain’t leavin’ my ass behind! No fucking w--”
“I meant me.” Spy interrupted.
"No," Soldier hissed from the ground. He glared at Spy with a frightful amount of ferocity. "Y...You're coming with us."
“I didn’t say I wasn’t.” He looked down at him. “I can go up zhe belfry, give you cover fire. Once you’re safe- zhe buildings are all close togezher ‘ere. I can just climb my way down zhere. It will be ‘ard…but…I can do it.”
Soldier didn't like the idea at all, but had lost the strength to continue saying so.
“What do you say?” Spy looked at the others. “ ‘ave we got a plan?”
Heavy muttered. "Not best idea... but good enough."
Sniper nodded. “Y’know ‘ow t’fire one of those things, spook?”
“I do.” Spy replied. “But I…may need some ‘elp getting upstairs.” He smiled, embarrassed.
“Leave it t’me.” Sniper strode over easily and helped Spy to his feet. The Frenchman hung heavily on his side. “Where’s that rifle, mate?” he asked Heavy.
Heavy tossed it over, and the Aussie skillfully caught it with one hand.
Sniper and Spy left, setting the Frenchman up in the open belfry, leaving Heavy and Scout to gather supplies and prepare Soldier for the trip.
Soldier had been fed a few pain pills so that he would be silent and not attract any more infected.
Heavy too the man in his arms and nodded. "Let us go."
“Good luck.” Spy whispered down, from the belfry, as he propped up the rifle, and kept an eye out for the infected on the path to the pharmacy.
Whoops, I guess all the action comes next time. The next part of the fanfic will take place in the Pharmacy, and I think it's the one we spend the most time in overall, though I could be wrong. Hope you guys are enjoying the drama thus far.
(Also, I know that in the comics, they specified that the only immune survivors ARE carriers, but I'd imagine that it'd be hard for everyone else without the same access to genetic tools and population samples as the government to know that.)
Chapter 11: The Pharmacy
The group hurry to get to the pharmacy to ensure Soldier's wounds are seen, and bump into yet another familiar face. But Spy is still stranded at the Church. How will they reach him in time?
Spy efficiently took out a group that gathered near the door with only a few shots.
A few more shuffled towards the church to investigate the noise.
A thin, bandaged arm stuck out of the door, and threw a small, beeping device through the air. The infected followed it to where it fell, several yards away, only to be blown apart by the blast it left. Then the door of the safehouse flew open, and the party burst forth, led by Scout. Sniper took up the rear, and shut the door behind them.
Heavy cradled Solder in his large arms, keeping a sharp eye out and warning his friend whenever something suspicious moved.
Spy quickly scanned the streets, and took out any infected that got too close to his friends. The crack of the rifle went out from the tower, drawing the infected towards it, and away from the four wandering the streets.
Heavy snarled once he saw the infected shambling over to Spy's hiding position. He couldn't fire guns, but still stocked up on grenades. He carefully lit a Molotov, and chucked it at the shuffling horde, sending most of them running about and screaming and agony, completely harmless.
Sniper hacked away at the few that approached, and Scout whacked the remainder with his bat. Up ahead of them, half a dozen ran for them, and in less than a minute, were taken down by Spy’s rifle. The pharmacy was drawing ever nearer.
Heavy worried constantly about Spy, but he had to attempt to get Soldier help first. The man had gone rigid in this grasp, barely breathing for the pain.
After several minutes of running, the pharmacy was within sight. “ALRIGHT! THERE IT IS!” Scout cried out. Sniper inwardly cursed, and began hacking away at the infected that rushed towards them now.
Heavy lobbed another jar - this one a bile bomb, then followed it up with a Molotov so that the Zombies were drawn into the very fire itself.
An ear piercing screech cut through the air. Heavy froze. Hunter!
Sniper screamed as the creature pounced on him. Scout began beating the thing with his bat, but its claws swatted him away, and resumed its assault on the older man.
Heavy stepped in, holding onto Soldier tightly, and slammed the thing in the base of its neck, severing the spinal cord.
Immediately, it fell dead, and Sniper scrambled to his feet, clinging to Scout for support. An infected behind the larger man was taken down with another rifle bullet, and they all started running for the pharmacy doors.
Heavy pulled Sniper along. "MOVE!" he cried, tugging the man behind him. "We must run! Hurry!"
More shots rang out from the belfry, taking down their pursuers. Then several rang out from much nearer. “SCHNELL! MOVE!” A man atop the roof with a rifle cried out to them, as he gave them more cover fire.
Scout stopped for a second, staring up at the man with wide eyes. "Wh...What th--"
"HE SAID MOVE!!!" Heavy roared, shoving the boy ahead once more. Scout scrambled towards the tower, still gaping at the person helping them.
Sniper was the one who reached the door first, and he held it open for the rest. “C’MON! C’MON!” He shouted, “GET BLOODY GOING!”
Scout rushed in, then Heavy with Soldier in his arms. He laid the man down on the first flat surface he could find, grabbed a shotgun and a few more grenades, and declared, "I'm going back for Spy."
“Don’t you bloody dare.” Sniper closed the door, locking it securely, and stood blocking the other man’s path. “He said he’d make it here himself. Let him. We’re not losing you to that mess out there.” He jerked his thumb towards the outside, where the horde was still screaming in hunger and bloodthirst.
Heavy fired past the iron bars, snarling. "He deserves better than this. He gave up himself for us and for Soldier! I am not letting him die!"
“He’s sitting up in the bloody belfry! He’s FINE!” Sniper still blocked his path. “Sit your ass down! You’re not going anywhere until that horde settles down.”
“Hey, uh…where’s that guy from the roof?” Scout piped up, looking around the barricaded pharmacy for their helper.
Heavy huffed, glared at Sniper for a half second, then turned his gaze to Scout. "Am not sure. Should we go look?"
“No need.” Their target sauntered down an aisle, rifle slung over his shoulder. Despite his situation, he still seemed rather well-dressed. “Is anyvone injured?”
"Yes, but not from just now," Heavy replied, motioning to Soldier, who was cringing on the ground. "Our friend has bad infection in his shoulder. We do not know how to treat."
Medic looked over at him, and nodded. “Bring him into zhe back room. I vill treat him.” He paused for a moment. “You are…all immune, yes?”
".... Yes. We think so," Heavy replied.
“Gut.” He nodded, gesturing to the back room. “Come along, zhen.” He called over his shoulder.
Scout followed the man, as if considering something.
Sniper stayed near the door, keeping an eye out in case the Spy somehow learned how to fly and landed in front of the door. In times of apocalyptic proportion, who knew what could happen?
Soldier couldn't remember what happened immediately after. Next thing he knew, he was on a table, feeling sleepy as hell, and not knowing where he was.
A shape moved next to him, and he groggily felt for his shovel.
“Ah. Look who is avake.” The shape replied, chipper. “Mein großer Kumpel! Your Soldier is avake!” he called out for Heavy.
"Oh! Very good!" Heavy cried, grinning as he looked at the groggy form on the table.
Soldier moaned weakly, then winced at how pitiful it sounded.
"Where's Frenchie?" A pause. "What happened? Where are we?"
“You are in my pharmacy.” Medic replied, readying a syringe. “And your friend is asleep in zhe next room.” He lied, pushing the needle in the Soldier’s arm. “As you should be. You need rest, or else your infection vill get vorse. Now sleep.”
"Wait, wait, wait..." Soldier huffed, trying to sit up.
Heavy made an odd noise and tried to press him back down.
"Wait... wait..." Raspy breathing. "We should be together. I wanna be in the same room as him."
“Your infection may become viral, Herr Soldier.” Medic lied again. “You don’t vant to risk infecting poor Spy, do you?”
Soldier paused, and shook. "....No..." But it.... He felt a little empty, really. He felt like he NEEDED to see Spy. To listen and talk to him some more. To share his strength, while at the same time... gaining something of his own...?
But not at the risk of hurting Spy. Nothing was worth that. He slumped down the bed again with a sigh.
“Good. Sleep.” Medic soothed, pulling the blanket up over him. “You vill see your friend later. Now rest.”
A tired nod. Soldier pulled the blankets up to his face, pulled the pillow over his head and drifted off. He was too tired to even snore.
Medic silently gestured to the next room, indicating for Heavy to follow as he left.
Heavy did, blinking. "Something is wrong, Doctor?"
“Vhere is your friend? Zhe Frenchman of vhich he speaks.” Medic asked, quietly, as he shut the door between their room and the Soldier’s. “Is he…did he turn?”
"No. Had to stay behind while we took him for care. He is... up there. At top of church tower." Worry. "I hope no infected sees him, but he insisted..."
“Is he able to run fast? Can he make it here on his own?”
"He is... badly wounded. Almost as bad as Soldier. Is no way he can make it. I want to go back for him."
Medic paused, thinking, and then shook his head. “It is too big of a risk. You should stay here, at least until zhe morning. Zhe infected may settle down by zhen.” He walked into the hall, and began to ascend the stairs to the rooftop.
"He is out there alone without food or water or help!" Heavy cried.
“Then leave him entirely!” Medic replied, from the staircase. “If he is as bad off as you say, he vill be dead soon anyvay.”
Heavy bristled. "No. Never. I will not."
Medic sighed. “Come vit me.” He gestured up the stairs.
Suspicious, Heavy did as he was asked.
The doctor opened the door to the roof. It was a two-storey, stone building, and they were too high up here for the infected to reach, aside from the occasional Hunter or Smoker, but they were not out tonight, it seemed.
“Look at it all.” Medic gestured to the horde of undead still crawling over themselves in their attempts to get in the pharmacy. “To go after one man- one zhat vill likely die in hours anyvay- in zhis disaster…it is death.”
"My goal is not to live," Heavy murmured. "My goal is to save as many as possible. If I let Spy die, I hurt Soldier, too."
“Ve vait until morning.” Medic restated. “Zhen, it vill be light, zhe infected vill haff calmed down, and…” he trailed off, staring off into the distance. “GET DOWN!” He hissed, pulling Heavy to the floor, “It is a Hunter!”
A warning shriek that signalled that creature had, indeed, spotted them. Heavy just growled softly to himself. A waste of time. For him, Hunters were dispatched as easily as yipping puppies.
Medic slowly crawled back to the door, where his shotgun sat, and cocked it in readiness. “Get back inside.” He hissed, “Before it att-“
He was cut off by another shriek, and the sight of the creature flying through the sky.
Heavy quickly jumped to his feet and slammed the flying monster in the nose with his fist, stopping it dead in its tracks.
Medic stared down at the corpse, and whipped his head up. “Stay still. Zhere is anozher vone.” He raised his scope up, and trained it on the figure on the rooftop across from them. “I don’t think it…vhat on earzh is it vearing?”
Heavy asked if he could see it.
Medic handed the scope over, still watching the figure from a distance.
Heavy peered through.
On the rooftop was a strange creature, its white shirt and blue pants soaked in blood. It crawled, painfully slowly, across the rooftop, and looked absolutely exhausted.
"Th... That's him! That is our Spy!" Heavy gasped.
“Vhat?” Medic snatched back the scope. “How on earzh…?” He put down the gun, absolutely stymied as to how he’d gotten up there in the first place.
He picked up the gun again, and looked at the crawling figure. “…he’s stopped moving.” He muttered.
"He must be dying! I must go quickly!" Heavy fretted, turning to go get some guns.
“VAIT!” Medic called out after him. “How do you plan to get up zhere, exactly?”
Heavy thought. "Is a ladder in Church... Maybe I can reach him with it."
“You vill valk back all zhat vay? Are you insane?” Medic looked back at him, and then turned back, to formulate a plan. “Zhere is a ladder downstairs. Ve can use it to make a bridge across to the next building, and zhen climb to him from zhere.” He paused, looking through the scope again. “You’re sure he is immune?”
A pause. "No. But I cannot let him go until I am sure he is not."
A sigh. “Get zhe ozhers. Get zhe ladder. If ve do it qvickly, und carefully, ve might be able to get to him before zhe infected do.”
Heavy nodded and went to round up Scout and Sniper. Scout was a little wary, but wanted to see what Sniper would say first.
“No way in bloody hell” was his response. “I’m all for stickin’ together, but it’s too damn risky. Might as well just jump straight into the horde.”
"He will die out there on his own!" Heavy pleaded. "We have Pipe bombs and vomit jars and fire! The horde will not be a problem! Especially on rooftops!"
“What about smokers, mate?” He frowned. “One of them tags us from the ground, we’re a bloody goner.”
"If we stick in tight enough group, we can break tongues that have others quickly."
Sniper sighed, and looked out the door at the horde. “It’s still pretty risky, mate. I don’t like it.”
"I do not, either... But I cannot leave him to die because of fear. He helped us knowing he might die. I vill do same for him."
Another sigh, and then a long pause. “Alroight. Let’s do it, then. Out and back in, quick as we can, yeah?”
"Yeah!" Scout whooped, jumping to his feet.
He grabbed his kukri and all three bounded up the stairs to the roof, where Medic was still watching the Spy.
“He still hasn’t moved, but it looks like he is breathing, at least.” He said, taking this eye away from the scope.
"We will be needing cover fire again," Heavy told the man, attaching several pipe bombs to his waist. "Look out for Smokers especially."
“I haff already spotted two, but I cannot get a clear shot.” He replied.
“Switch up, mate. Snipin’s wot I do.” Sniper grinned, and took up the Medic’s position, handing him the ladder they’d brought. “Good luck.” With that, he turned his eye to the scope, and fired, taking out one of the smokers already.
Heavy nodded with a smile.
Scout seemed a little more nervous, but just shot Medic a cocky smile and flashed him a thumbs-up. "Hold onta ya britches, man!" he laughed.
“Yes…I vill be sure to.” the elderly scientist replied with just the faintest hint of discomfort in his voice. Ah well… Nothing ventured, nothing gained...
Didn't have any time to look this over before uploading since it's pretty late already and I'm just getting home. See you tomorrow.
Chapter 12: Rooftop Rescue
Heavy, Scout, and the new teammate Medic risk everything to rescue Spy.
Medic laid the ladder out, stretching it from their roof to the next, as a sort of makeshift bridge. “Scout, you first, zhen Heavy, zhen I vill go last.” He held it with both hands to steady it.
Scout nodded. "Yeah, that sounds goo-- wait, whoa, what? I gotta be first?!"
"MOVE." Heavy thumped the boy hard on his back, and he scrambled away, squawking.
Once he’d reached the other side, Medic told him to hold the ladder as well, for Heavy. “Alright, mein Kumpel, your turn.”
Heavy clambered over slowly, hoping it would hold his weight. It did fine.
Medic waited until they both had a good grip of the ladder before he made his own way across, and the three began making their way along the rooftops, towards the unconscious Spy. The common infected didn't seem too concerned down on the ground. The three didn't make much noise or attract much attention.
At one point, about thirty feet from Spy’s location, the group reached a gap in the rooftops. The jump was about eight feet across, but it was a LONG way down, and one would land on the unforgiving concrete VERY hard if they missed it.
Heavy paused and peered across. Even without double-jumping, Scout could probably make it, but how would he make it with Spy on his back?
Medic was thinking the same thing. Quickly, he went back across the rooftops, retrieved their ladder, and put it down across the gap.
"This looks fuckin' risky, man..." Scout grumbled, peering over the edge.
“Oh, don’t be such a- HRRGH!” Medic was suddenly cut off by a long, prehensile tongue wrapped around his neck, dragging him backwards, almost off the rooftop.
Scout dashed forward, quick as a whip, and sliced the thing with a machete, then started firing into the distance with his pistol. The horde on the ground shifted.
Panting, Medic fell to his knees on the shingles. “Go…go get him. Hurry. Ve must go, NOW.”
"Yes!" Heavy turned to Scout. "Go get Spy - I will back you up, but you go faster! Bring him to me and I will carry him the rest of way!"
“But what if he’s like…one of them, or somethin’?” Scout gestured down to the horde, anxiety evident in his face.
"He’s not - just very very sick."
“But…Ah, screw it.”
After psyching himself up a bit, the Scout bounded across the rooftop. He carefully dashed across the shingles, coming to a rest beside Spy. Carefully, he shook the man, but received no response. “Awright then. Come on, Princess, up we go.” He muttered, hoisting the man up over his back, and took off towards the others.
Heavy quickly took the slight Frenchman, wanting to feel his pulse, but knowing there was no time. The horde was really starting to stir up now, and several of them were starting to scale the wall, hissing and shrieking.
“AHH!” Scout shrieked, leaping the distance between the buildings. “FUCK MAN! HOLY SHIT!” He began running, back towards the pharmacy.
Medic followed behind, still carrying the ladder.
Heavy tossed a pipe bomb in the opposite direction, and sprinted behind them, wheezing.
A rifle shot rang out, landing a few feet behind Heavy, where a Hunter’s brain suddenly seemed to explode from its head. Ahead, Medic quickly laid down the ladder. This time, Scout did not hesitate in going across. Medic waited for Heavy, though, before he went across himself.
Suddenly, though, Medic was covered in a thick, foul smelling liquid. Heavy screamed, firing at the boomer behind the man as he crossed the ladder, and nearly fell. The infected were stirred to a frenzy.
Medic scrambled across after him, nearly falling off the ladder in the process. Quickly, the Sniper pulled it back, and the group rushed off the roof, and inside, to the relative safety of their pharmacy.
The horde slammed against the door, trying to reach inside, howling with anger and frustration. Heavy simply hacked at anything that came near the bars with a machete.
Medic picked up the Spy, and carried him down to the medical lab where he’d treated Soldier. Sniper went downstairs to check on the front door, which was still secure. Scout seemed frozen to the spot.
The boy winced. "H...He's all covered in puke n' junk! He didn't even try to wipe it off!" A shudder.
Medic immediately placed the younger man down on a table, and felt his pulse. He also stuck a thermometer into his mouth. The infected usually had very high heart rates and temperatures. If he was turning, Medic would know.
Spy, though, was nearly ice-cold, and his pulse, though beating rather hard, was still quite slow. He’d clearly exhausted himself from the effort of climbing over here, and had gotten chilled to the bone from the cold air up on the rooftops. The thermometer in his mouth twitched back and forth as his teeth chattered almost undetectably.
Medic nodded to himself. Heavy had, indeed been correct in his assumption. Quickly, he steamed some towels on a hot plate and wrapped the man's head in them, then began to take the rest of his vitals.
It was painfully clear that Spy was suffering from massive blood loss - a transfusion would be in order. Medic, himself had type O negative blood, but there was no way to determine if Spy was in the same blood group- not in this short amount of time. But there was no other choice. He’d be dead if Medic didn’t do something. Immediately, he hooked his own veins up to Spy’s, and began to operate to the best of his abilities.
The Frenchman whimpered softly as the doctor began cutting open his stitches and re-stitching them, properly, himself. He was far too tired to awaken, fully, though, but the soft cries of pain grew louder with each pass of the needle. Soldier began to stir awake on his table.
Spy gasped when the needle pricked a sensitive nerve on his shoulder blade, and whimpered again, eyelashes fluttering now.
Medic couldn't risk adding any sedatives. The man's heart rate was already so slow... He did, however, apply a local anesthetic to numb any immediate pain.
It worked to numb him, but slowly, Spy began to come around. His eyes opened weakly, then half-closed again, to block out the offending bright light. He mumbled, softly to himself, in French, as he tried to establish his location.
"Go back to sleep if you can. I'm vorking."
Spy squinted, and looked up at him. “…oo are you?” He whispered.
A smile. "I am a Medic - much like zhe ones you undoubtedly fought beside. I'm even BLU like you are. But I vas positioned up north. I came down here to escape zhe vinter chill zhat vill soon start to make its vay across zhe land."
“But…’ow did you…” He looked around at the room, eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the light. “…where are we? Did I…I made it? ...'ow?"
"Zhat Heavy is a very loyal friend. He kept insisting to go back for you until ve complied."
Spy’s eyes widened. “Wh-where is ‘e? Where are zhe ozhers? Are zhey….are zhey okay?”
“Where are zhey?”
Spy stared at him, nervous, and then frowned. “What ‘ave you done wit zhem?”
"Nozhing! This safehouse is two stories large. Zhey’re about somevhere. Eating, perhaps resting…"
“So zhey’re…zhey’re alright? No one is dead? Or ‘urt?”
"Not really. Now, stop asking questions, bitte. I don't vant to make an error."
“I’m sorry, I…I just worry, you know?” Spy laid his head back on the table, and closed his eyes. “I’ll be quiet now.”
"Good. Now if you behave, maybe I'll let you be vit your large, RED-blooded American Freund for zhe night." A good-humoured smirk. Soldier was awake now and was staring at the two quietly from his bed, oblivious to the connotations of using that particular word, and why it would be amusing to the German.
“Zhe Soldier?” Spy opened his eyes and looked at Medic again. “Is ‘e alright? Did you treat ‘is injuries yet? Will ‘e be okay? Is ‘e…I’m sorry. I don’t meant to distract you, I just…” He sighed, closed his eyes, and laid his head back on the table again.
A raspy chuckle from the table. "Yeah, Frenchie - I'm alright. Just worry about your own ass for a while."
Spy turned his head in surprise, and sighed, with a relieved little smile. “I’m glad you’re alright. I lost sight of you all when…it’s not important.” He shook his head. “I’m glad you all made it.”
Soldier just chuckled again. "Nah, we made it okay. Glad to see you did, too."
Spy nodded, still with that nervous smile. “Ouais…it was…climbing is a lot ‘arder, wizh my leg zhe way it is, but…yes, I made it…okay…"
"Good." Soldier rolled over and tried to sleep some more.
“…goodnight.” Spy whispered, and stared back up at the ceiling, nervous as to how he’d explain new bandages and chemical burns on his flesh. Hopefully that inexplicable creature that shot out the pool of burning acid hadn't done too much damage to him and he could recover soon. He didn’t want Soldier to worry- not when he was so injured. It would only make things worse.
Heavy lumbered down the stairs, tossing away his blood-soaked machete, and patted Medic on the shoulder, seeing him exit the 'Medical Bay.'
"Is Spy okay now? On path to recovery?"
“Ja. He should be much better, now zhat he has some blood in him.” Medic nodded, taking a last peek in to see that all was well. “I vas vorried, for a bit, zhough. Zhose burn vounds on his arms and belly vere razher bad.”
"I did not see it. Must have been too scared." A laugh.
Medic chuckled back, though lightly. “Ja, zhey looked…fresh. He’d probably gotten attacked by some... new type of infect on zhe vay over here. He’s lucky to be alive, really.” He turned into the supply room, and cracked open a bottle of water. “Vat if it had been a Hunter? Few take one on alone, and live to tell about it.”
Heavy scoffed. "Hunters are little babies. Am more afraid of Boomers than them."
Medic frowned. None of the infected were to be taken lightly, especially not ones that attacked so quickly, and…
He cleared his throat. “Ja. Zhat reminds me. I must go shower.” Medic chuckled. “Check on zhem in a bit, vill you? I am going to sleep after I vash up.”
Heavy nodded. "Goodbye, Doctor. I will look after them. Thank you for your help."
“Jawohl.” Medic nodded, and marched off to the back room, where the mop bucket’s faucet was up rather high, and doubled as a shower. Ice cold, but in these times, one should be grateful.
He was blissfully unaware of the fact that he had company.
Disclaimer: Obviously, you should only use ladders for their intended purposes. Don't ask why someone like Heavy was able to stand on one and safely cross over rooftops. I'm pretty sure someone with his mass wouldn't even be allowed on most ladders normally, much less as a makeshift bridge.
Chapter 13: Proposition (Explicit)
Medic's surprise guest knows a fun way they could get to know each other.
13 chapters in, and there's finally porn. (Kinda) Congrats, ya made it! Of course, if two guys bumping uglies isn't really your thing, you can skip these next two chapters. There's nothing terribly important in it, other than establishing the other "main couple" in the story, so to speak.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
"Hey, Doc." Scout peered into the room unexpectedly.
Medic peeked past the makeshift shower curtain, made from a tarp. “Vhat?” He asked, irritated, and soaking wet.
Scout scooted inside, seeming a bit nervous. "Hey, uh, I've just been thinkin' and I thought I'd ask because I wouldn't know unless I asked so here goes.... Are you gay?"
Medic just stared at him for a long moment. “…vhat?!”
"You gay? Like... even a little bit?"
He stared for a longer moment, and then backed into the shower stall a little more, protectively. “…vhy?”
"Well, uh..." Scout flushed a little. "I just heard one time that lots of guys having to be together without chicks around makes 'em gay after a while, and so I was thinking that..." He scratched the back of his head. "Iunno... That maybe you were?"
“…you got into zhe prescription bottles, didn’t you,” Medic deadpanned.
Scout seemed shocked. "What?! No! I mean... Well... Just what kinda pills we got here--WAITWAITWAIT. No. That ain't what I'm here for."
A deep sigh. "Look, man. Doc, you're... You're fuckin' hot, man! If you're not interested, well, there's that, but I figured I might as well ask ya if you might be." He scratched his chin. "I mean... subtlety ain't somethin' I'm too good at."
“… Scout, I am still covered in Boomer vomit. Could you give me five minutes, at least, before I haff to deal wit zis?” he sighed.
"Well, I could help ya scrub ya back or somethin' while I'm here, Doc," Scout purred, obviously trying to be sultry.
Medic sighed, and rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Scout grinned ecstatically and bounded into the room, shutting the door behind himself. He began pulling off his blood-crusted clothing with vigor and soon stepped into the makeshift "shower" with the older man.
A shudder. "Fuck, man! Why didn't ya tell me this water is colder n' penguin nips?"
Medic chuckled, and shuffled to make room for the smaller boy behind him. “I suppose I should haff. If it vere any colder, you’d probably shrink so much you’d become a voman, ja?” He laughed, scrubbing at his hair.
A snicker. "Yeah, you wish..." Scout began scrubbing himself gingerly, preoccupied with the sight of the regal German scientist before him. He made sure he cleaned his junk as well as he could - just in case.
One he’d finished washing his hair, the older man turned and looked down at Scout with his arms crossed. “Hmmm…”
Scout looked back up at him in what he hoped was a seductive manner. He was pretty well built - obviously muscular despite being a tad on the wiry side. His shoulders were broad and awkward - obviously he wasn't at full maturity yet, but it suggested the kid was due for a major growth spurt of muscle in the future. His cock was just slightly hard and his balls seemed to be trying to regain their full girth despite the temperature. All and all, he wasn't bad to look at, even if he was a tad... awkward.
Medic looked down at him, still, staring at his half-erect cock. With no seductive pretense, he held it in one hand, and began examining it for any sort of sore or markings that would indicate an STD.
Scout still felt a jolt of electricity. After all, a very attractive man WAS touching his naughty bits. A small purr of approval.
“Haff you ever experienced any sort of abnormal discharge from your penis, Herr Scout?” Medic asked, rolling back the foreskin to examine the tip.
"Ever since I met you, ya mean?" Again, trying to pour on the charm. It didn't really work, but it was worth a try. "But... seriously, no.”
“Are you a virgin?” he asked, lifting the cock up, and handling the boy’s testicles, examining them now, too.
"No. But I ain't done it with a lot of guys, man. You kind of have to keep this sort of thing under wraps 'less you wanna wake up in a gutter with a broken arm and cracked ribs." A hum. "Even then, it was mostly... yanno. Oral stuff. Touchy-feely things, yanno? Only went all the way with one guy. Man, that was wild! But he made me wear a condom, though, so it wasn't a big deal."
“I am not partial to sodomy, myself.” Medic replied, releasing the boy’s genitalia. “More of zhe… ‘touchy-feely’ sort.” He ran a hand through his prematurely-graying hair, to rid him of the water starting to drip down his forehead. “And as for condoms, when zhe pharmacy was raided, in zhe days before zhe attacks, I am told zhose vere zhe first zhings to go.” He turned off the cold water, and leaned back against the tile. “People around heah have zheir priorities quite out of order.”
Scout scrubbed his armpits. "So... you're saying... you'd like to... try some touchy feely things with me sometime?" A grin.
Missing the feeling of Medic's hands, Scout began fondling himself to make up for the loss of contact.
“Vell, vhy not? Ve are both heah, ve are both healzhy adults, and it is not like zhere is anyzhing better to do.” Medic asked with a shrug.
A pout from the younger man. "So you're only gonna do this because yer bored?" Scout glared up suspiciously at Medic.
“Pretty much.” Medic shrugged again. “I am not young like you, Scout. I don’t feel zhe stirrings of sexual desire as much as you, nor do I have still haff zhat overwhelming need to fulfill zhem.” His limp cock, hanging between his legs was evidence of this.
Scout huffed, pouted, and crossed his arms.
Another shrug from Medic. “If you don’t vant to do it, it’s fine by me.” He turned back, and began setting his shower paraphernalia right.
Scout pouted, crossed his arms, and hunched over, looking away. "Fucking hell, man!" he snapped. "You coulda told me that before I made a damn fool of myself!" He felt embarrassed and enraged. He wasn't just some fun little pastime!
Medic chuckled, and rubbed the boy’s back lightly. “Shall I leave you zhe shower, zhen, to ‘take care’ of zhat little problem of yours?” He pointed to the boy’s withering erection.
"No," Scout snapped again, waving Medic away as he stumbled off stubbornly to find some suitable clothes elsewhere.
Medic shrugged, and dried off before dressing himself. “Vell, if you change your mind, you know vhere I am.”
Scout didn't respond. He needed to talk to Sniper.
The gunman was still poised at his position at the door, smoking a cigarette, and blowing the smoke into the faces of the infected that gathered there.
"Hey, Snipes. Need a hand, there?" Scout pouted, shivering slightly in an off-orange sweater and dark black slacks he'd found.
“Nah, ‘m good. Thanks.” He looked over at Scout. “ ‘s it Halloween already?” He chuckled, and then his grin dropped when he saw the boy’s shivers. “You cold?”
"Yeah," he huffed, sitting on a crate next to the door. "Just got done taking the coldest fucking shower in my life." A pause. "I... I talked to that Medic dude. Asked him about... yanno."
“And?” Sniper asked, in mid-puff.
"I... Dunno. I mean... He's not... NOT gay... It's just... I don't even fucking know, man..." Scout ran his fingers through his short-cropped hair, exasperated. "He said that I could have sex with him if he wanted, but that he couldn't care less! He was limper than a soggy french fry!"
“Didja touch ‘im?” Sniper leaned back, stamping the finished cigarette out on the floor.
"No. I didn't want to. It was... It was damn embarrassing! To be told that! I didn't want him to fall in love with me or some shit, but DAMN. At least do more than sit there like a dead fish!" A pause. "I... I guess I just want him to be... into me like I'm into him, yanno?"
“…you DO remember you just met, aye?” Sniper raised his eyebrow. “Hard for a bloke to be into you when you don’t even know each other.”
"But I... We... We were NAKED, man!" Scout cried. He figured that was enough for anyone to be reduced to cock-hungry fuck-bunnies.
Sniper just chuckled. “I know you’re young, mate, so even thinkin’ bout sex makes you crack a fat, but when you get older, that changes. Don’t take it too hard.” He patted the boy on the back.
"Yeah... Okay..." A flush. Scout looked down at his shoes, embarrassed all over again. He felt even more foolish than before!
The Aussie sighed, and stared out at the horde, slowly starting to settle down. “Still cold?”
A nod. Not surprising. Scout didn't have much built-in insulator.
“Come on, then.” Sniper stood, and gestured for the Scout to follow him into the office space they’d claimed as sleeping space.
Scout followed the man, shivering, peeled off some of his more uncomfortable outer clothing, and snuggled into the sleeping bag with a satisfied sigh.
Sniper covered the boy with a blanket, and sat down on the floor beside him. “Better now?” He smiled down at Scout.
A grin. "Yeah. Thanks, pal."
For some reason, Sniper fell between the cracks somewhere in Scout's brain. Scout obviously liked older men, but liked them to look a little more... polished than Sniper. Lord knew he liked a fine, upstanding gentleman who loved getting dirty with the street urchins. He thought about boning Sniper a few times, but at the end, he liked what they had... whatever THAT was... too much to even ask about it. Maybe he just saw Sniper as mentor. The father he'd never had as a kid.
And that suited Sniper just fine, because he was heterosexual, and even if he weren’t, he’d much prefer men his own age. Sleeping with someone as young as Scout, though he was, legally, an adult, Sniper would have still felt like he was fucking his own son.
At that moment, Medic came into the office, and laid down on his own bed, after greeting the two.
Scout tried - he really did try his best - not to look at the man like a sex-starved animal. But everything about the man set him off. Immediately, he was sitting up, face slightly flushed. "Uh, hey - I'm sorry about before - I was bein' a real dick - I guess I just expected us to start fucking right away or somethin', yanno?" he blurted suddenly.
Medic looked over, and chuckled. “I am not as young as I once was, Scout. It takes time for a man of my age to become as…excited as you.”
Scout grinned almost goofily and sat up a little straighter. At the back of his mind, he hoped things weren't going to be too awkward for Sniper, but... fuck. THIS GUY.
Sniper chuckled, and left the room. “I’ll leave you two to…talk, then.” He grinned, and shut the door behind him.
I broke this chapter into two pieces because it was super long together. Not sure if I'll do the same for all the other many... MANY Scout/Medic sex scenes on the way. I guess we'll just have to see, lmao.
Chapter 14: Restraint (Explicit)
Scout has none.
It felt weird leaving the last chapter like that, so... Here's a two-fer, I suppose. Maybe I'll take tomorrow off lol.
Medic was silent for a minute after, and then looked back at Scout. “Vell, vhat vas I-“
By that time, Scout was naked. Again. And shivering. Again. But his enthusiasm made up for it. Another huge, cheesy grin. "Fuck, dude - you're hot as hell..." He slid into bed with the man, and went in for a kiss, his semi-hard erection pressing at Medic's thigh.
The older man let him kiss, and kissed him back, but gently, and more slowly. “Slowly, Scout. Enjoy it. Savor it. Zhere’s no need to rush.” He soothed, stroking the boy’s back with one hand, and netting the fingers of his other into his hair.
Scout was already squirming and eager. "But..." A slight pout.
“Shh…” He soothed again, and nipped at the tender flesh around the boy’s neck, his hand traveling lower to gently grope at his ass. “Slowly. You vill enjoy it.” He chuckled, bringing both hands down there now. “Alvays in such a rush. Didn’t your mutter ever tell you, anyzhing worth doing is worth doing right?” Medic smiled and began to unbutton his shirt with one hand, keeping the other firmly on Scout’s rear.
Scout sucked in a tiny breath, watching the few loose, pepper-colored curls poke out from under Medic's shirt. Trembling hands went to grasp at Medic's nipples as well and rub them into submission.
Medic hummed in approval, and shrugged his shirt off the rest of the way. Once freed from the article of clothing, he brought his hands around Scout, to stroke at his back, and grope at his ass again.
Scout went to pump his thickening cock.
“Ah, ah, ah!” Medic chided, pulling the boy’s hand away. “None of zhat, now.” He grinned. “What is zhe point of having a partner if all you’re going to do is masturbate, hm?”
A whine. "Then you do it for me."
“Vell…I could…” Medic grinned, stroking the boy’s cock lightly. “If zhat’s all you vant.” He raised an eyebrow, hinting that there was more to it than this.
Scout blinked. "Ya got more planned?" A devious little grin.
A sultry chuckle, as the doctor unzipped his own pants. “Tell me, my dear boy, haff you ever heard of frottage?”
Nodding. Scout grinned even more. "Yeah... This one dude showed me how to do it once... He was one of my first times... I fuckin' blew my load all over him in no time."
“Zhen…” Medic pulled out his half-hard cock, and leaned back on the mattress, arms up behind his head. “Show me.”
Scout trembled. "H... Hold on, man..." He licked his lips. "I gotta get a taste of this, first. I just gotta." His mouth was watering at the sight of Medic's plumping cock alone. He wriggled down so that he was nose-deep in slightly greying pubes, and enveloped Medic's entire length in his warm mouth.
Medic groaned, softly, and stroked the back of Scout’s head. “Yes…” He sighed, pleased.
Scout bobbed his head, feeling up Medic's balls in his hands as he went. Medic was a tad bit saltier than what he was used to - a little more bitter, too. Scout wasn't sure he liked it, but with any luck, Medic would be the one blowing HIM from now on.
The older doctor let his hands wander over Scout’s neck and back, caressing him gently as he muttered approval. “Very good, Scout. Very good…Your mouth feels so varm…”
"I got somethin' else that's warm..." Scout chuckled, wriggling back up to face Medic. He began thrusting slowly, grinding their hips together. A slight gasp.
Medic chuckled, and let his hands rest on Scout’s hips, guiding him in his thrusts. “So eager.” He remarked, looking at the boy’s tip, already dripping a little with his arousal, while his own cock was still just barely at its full hardness. “You like it? Does it feel good?”
"Aw, yeah, fuck, it does..." Scout crooned, grinning like an idiot. "Aw, fuck, yeah..."
“Slow, Scoutchen, slow…” Medic cooed, tightening his grip on the slim hips, forcing him to ride at an almost-agonizingly slow pace.
A pained whine. Scout squirmed again. "Aw, FUCK, man! I've boned dudes your age before, and this is NOT an age thing! Maybe a repression thing, yeh, but not an age thing... Fuck..."
Medic chuckled, but held him still, barely letting him get any real stimulation at all now. “I promise you, taking your time makes it all vorth vhile.”
"I caaaaan't..." Scout huffed, breaking out into a slight sweat. His cock twitched eagerly.
“Yes you can. Just relax, and enjoy zhe sensations.” Medic purred, rubbing circles into the boy’s hips.
“Good boy.” Medic praised, letting his hands travel up, tickling Scout’s ribs a little before his thumbs started playing with the boy’s nipples.
Scout was trembling. He tried to just let Medic do his thing.
“Breathe, Scout. Breathe.” Medic purred into the boy’s ear before he moved his hands down, to gently massage his toned thighs.
Scout let out a whoosh of air, and tried his best to breathe steadily, thin chest heaving. He watched Medic's hands with a desperate kind of hunger.
The doctor’s skilled hands rubbed at Scout’s hips again, before travelling behind, to grope and massage his ass. One finger gingerly traced down the cleft there, prodding the entrance a little, teasing it.
Scout's hips jerked a little. "Hurry..." he hissed between clenched teeth, trying his best to shut off his brain and not fuck this up.
“Und vhy do I need to hurry, dear Scout?” He grinned, still circling the sensitive hole.
"I... I can't... L...Last... I can't..."
Medic turned his gaze back to the boy’s dripping cock, and sighed, shaking his head with a smile. “Very vell, zhen.” He took the boy’s shaft in his hand, and began pumping it slowly.
"Ughhnnn...!" Scout gasped, entire body shaking with arousal. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's it, that's it.... Fuck..." A groan.
Medic squeezed a little tighter, but moved slower. He couldn’t resist teasing the boy a little.
A little droplet of precum dripped out. "Auugh.... Aughhh...!" the boy gasped, shaking more. "Doc, Doc, Doc, man, Doc..." He slumped forward onto the man's shoulder, and bit at it, groaning even more.
The doctor chuckled, and just warned, “Gently, Scout. I don’t vant to have to sew myself up.” He pumped a little faster, circling his thumb around the sensitive tip, spreading the precum around.
"Okay, okay, okay, fuuuuh--!" Scout's hips jerked at the sudden resumed pace, and was reduced to wordless babbles as he sloppily kissed Medic's shoulder over and over.
Medic’s pace grew faster and faster, and he found himself panting with the exertion of stroking the boy so fast. Already his wrist was beginning to flare with pain, but he kept it up all the same.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK--!" Scout's entire body spasmed, and he came hard all over them both, crying out in mindless ecstasy. "Oh, fuck... Oh, fuck... Oh......"
Wave after wave of pleasure hit him. His eyes fluttered and he smiled again.
Though his wrist was aching, Medic stroked the boy through his orgasm, until he had stopped twitching and shooting out his seed. He smiled up at Scout. “How vas zhat?”
"Aw, dude... Like torture and then fuckin' paradise..."
“And zhe former made zhe latter all zhe better, ja?” He grinned like a smarmy bastard.
"I... I don't know... Maybe..." Scout huffed. "Fuckin' hurt havin' to hold back like that..."
“Only because you are impatient, and young. You vill learn to enjoy it. Some day.” Medic smiled, and laid back on the mattress, his own erection rubbing up against the back of Scout’s thigh.
"H...Hey... Ya don't wanna take care of that?" Scout huffed, rubbing against it slightly.
“I am alright. You can go to sleep if you vant.” He smiled up at him. “Don’t vorry about it.”
"You..." A yawn. "You sure, man?"
“Vell…” He thought about it, and then shook his head. “Nein, nein, you are tired. Go rest.”
"You said well about somethin'..."
“It’s fine. Go to sleep.” Medic kissed his own thumb, and then stroked Scout’s forehead with it, tenderly.
It didn't take long before Scout, indeed, had nodded off, curled up comfortably to Medic's chest. If being covered in sticky semen bothered him, he didn't show it.
Unwilling to wait for his erection to just go down on his own, Medic snaked his hand down and began stroking himself. He did so, silently, aside from the few panting breaths that he let escape, blowing gently over the nape of Scout’s neck.
"Mmmnnnhmmm..." Scout murmured softly in his sleep. He wrinkled his nose for a second, but drifted off easily again.
Medic paused in his motions, but once he saw that Scout had fallen back asleep, he resumed, eventually stroking himself within reach of that wonderful climax.
It spurted all over the back of Scout's thighs, coating him even further in milky white seed. He didn't even stir from his sleep, however.
As he regained his breath, Medic began gently rubbing his seed into the boy’s skin, using it like lotion. He kissed the top of Scout’s head gingerly with a slow smile and settled down for a nap beside the boy.
Yes. This was satisfactory enough.
Chapter 15: Serve and Protect
The fresh wounds Spy got on his way to the pharmacy come back to haunt him.
Now this felt right. Soldier held Spy tightly, humming deeply in his chest. "Everything better? For the most part, I mean?"
Spy turned his head to look over at Soldier, eyes still half-lidded in semi-sleep. “I suppose…” he whispered, weakly. “Still very…on my teeth.” He translated, poorly, in his exhausted state.
Soldier nodded. "Go to sleep. I'll look after ya, Frenchie."
“Look after yourself.” He yawned. “You are ‘urt, too. You should sleep.”
"I'm not PROGRAMMED to look after myself - I'm tough enough to withstand or ignore anything that comes MY way!”
“But when you-“ Another yawn. “When you are ignore it, like you ‘ave doing…” He paused, thinking hard about how to translate again, then pointed, weakly, at Soldier’s bandaged shoulder, “Possess…sick.” He shook his head, knowing that wasn’t how to properly word it.
"That was a fluke. Go to sleep. I'll sleep when I deem it's safe."
“I…ne dors pas, jusqu’a-until you are sleep.” Spy muttered, tiredly.
A grumble. "A...Alright... Fine."
Spy smiled a little. “Good.” His eyes were hardly more than slits now, as he stared off into the space beside Soldier’s head, waiting for him to fall asleep.
Soldier was a little uncomfortable having to fall asleep before Spy, but for all his big talk, he really was exhausted. Within five to fifteen minutes, he was deeply asleep, his nose buried slightly in Spy's mask.
The second he saw the Soldier’s breathing even out, Spy gave up on trying to stay conscious, and fell asleep too, on his back, the other man’s arms still wound around him tightly.
The next morning, Heavy went to check on the two with Medic, being concerned about their safety.
Medic stirred the spoon in his coffee, and sipped at it, slowly, as he walked. “Zhe infected seem to haff calmed down considerably, since last night.”
Heavy nodded. "They always do. When there are no Survivors to see."
“Mmm.” He nodded back, sipping at the coffee. “You’re sure you vould not like some? Va haff lots.”
"No. I am... not good with caffeine," Heavy chuckled, backing away slightly. A pause. "Are Scout and Sniper awake yet?"
“I saw Sniper patrolling earlier zhis morning.” Another sip. “But Scout has decided to sleep in. Vhy?”
Heavy rubbed the back of his meaty neck. "I must... apologize. I made big mistake that almost put us all in danger of breaking apart. Must make amends for mistake."
“Vhat vas zhe mistake?” he sipped again, stopping in front of the infirmary.
"Well... Spy told me story and... And I did not hear well, or maybe not understand... I thought he said he was carrier, and Sniper wanted to let him die because of my mistake."
“Carrier?” A curious look. “But…aren’t ve all carriers? Anyvone who is immune merely carries zhe disease, yes? Zhat’s vhat zhe CEDA vhas saying.”
"I... I am not sure." A sigh as Heavy felt a headache threatening. Science wasn’t really his forte. He preferred the arts. "Sniper's old Medic seemed to think Carriers make powerful infected like Tanks or Witches. Happened to their Heavy and killed most of their group. Very sad."
Medic paused for a while, in thought. “Und zhat may be, but let’s worry about zhe present for now, ja? Let us see how our little patients are doing.” He held the door open for Heavy.
Spy already looked more healthy since his face was retaining more color, and his breathing was more even. With Soldier, it was harder to tell at a glance, but at the very least, he wasn't paralyzed with pain anymore.
They were both asleep, clinging gingerly to each other since Medic had pushed their beds together.
Soldier sleepily cracked open an eye, and, upon seeing it was nothing to be worried about, went back to sleep.
Spy shifted in his sleep, and looked up at the two as they entered. “Allo…” he whispered, “ ‘ow are zhings outside?”
"Calming. How are things with you two?" Heavy responded, pulling up a seat.
“Good, I suppose.” Spy blinked his eyes a few times until they complied, and opened fully. “Do we ‘ave any water?”
“Coming right up.” Medic nodded, and left to get it.
Heavy smiled. "Is amazing to me that you two are such good friends now. How did this happen?"
“I honestly don’t know.” Spy shrugged, with a bit of a chuckle. “I zhink it ‘appened while I was asleep.”
"You make friends while asleep?" A laugh. "Good talent to have! Very impressive!"
“Here ve are.” Medic brought two bottles of water into the room, and handed one to Spy.
When the Frenchman tried to sit up to drink it, he found Soldier’s arm a bit of a hindrance. “Soldier.” He poked him. “Let go. I’m trapped by your arm.”
Soldier grunted and rolled over.
“Zhank you.” Spy sat up, and then cried out sharply in pain, clutching at his side, and immediately fell back down. Medic was instantly at his side, and caught the fallen water bottle before it hit the floor.
Soldier was fully awake in an instant, and helped Spy lay down gently. "The hell happened?!" he gasped.
“It’s zhose vounds again. I knew zhey vould be trouble.” Medic quickly unbuttoned Spy’s shirt, and began unwrapping the new bandages at his stomach.
"Wait - wha--?!" Soldier gasped, seeing it for the first time. "S...Since when have you--?!"
Spy looked at him, ashamed, and then looked away, biting his lip as the doctor shook his head at the fluid oozing around the burn scabs.
“Vhat could have done zhis...?" Medic asked with a sigh. He wrapped it back up for the time being with a frown. "You’re burned qvite badly. Stay here. I vill get some ointment, ja?” He strode back out the door.
"You didn't tell me about this?!" Soldier cried, looking hurt.
“I didn’t…want you to worry?” Spy smiled at him, nervously, still clutching at the burn wound, bandages wrapped all around it.
"But I..." Soldier was suddenly angry. "How am I supposed to take care of you - to protect you - when you try to keep things from me???"
Spy winced, and looked away, glancing over at Heavy for help. He frowned, and looked back Soldier. “Since when is it your job to protect me, hein? I don’t remember saying anyone ‘ad to do zhat, least of all you.”
"I KNOW you didn't ask me to, but it's still my JOB, alright?"
“Since when?!” Spy spat at him, sitting up carefully. “Your only job is to take care of yourself- I shouldn’t even be on your list of priorities!”
"That's not how I DO things!" Soldier cried. "I..." He trembled a bit.
"All my life I... I've had something to fight for. NEEDED something to fight for. Because... When... When I die, that just means everything I fought for means nothin', and we've all gotta die. Without purpose, life is fucking meaningless." Another pause. It was obvious this was a difficult subject for him to talk about. "Before, it was America. I fought for American ideals and the flag, and... our way of doing things because it was the best thing in the world to me."
A shaky exhale. "But America let down many people before. Innocents. Civilians. And for all I know, there ain't an America anymore cause of this damn sickness. So, I... I decided that, from now on, I'll... I'll fight for you."
“Why?” Spy frowned. “Zhere are four ozher people ‘ere ‘oo you could fight for. Why not pick one of zhem? Why single me out?”
"You need my help the most. And... You're the one America's let down the most." The man looked away. "The least I can do is to do what my fellow countrymen should have. Protect the innocent. And the ones who need our help the most."
“Your countrymen DID protect me. Zhey freed my country, took me into zheir hospital… It was just zhose zhree zhat came into my ‘ouse zhat didn’t. Zhree. Out of…’ow many American soldiers were sent over zhere? Just zhree.” Spy shrugged. “I don’t blame your entire country for zhe actions of zhree individuals, Soldier, and you shouldn’t eizher.” Spy looked down at the ground. "And I was 'ardly what one would call 'innocent', remember?"
"No. No, no, no. You were. you needed us. You were just a kid trying to survive!" Soldier hugged the man tightly. "It doesn't matter what happened before. All that matters is that... That now, you're…” He gulped. “I… NEED to protect you. To have SOMEONE. Something. To protect." Soldier's voice was a little choked now. He wasn't far from tears, though he tried his best to hide it.
Spy winced, and tried to pull away from the hug, wincing as Soldier unintentionally pressed against his sore spots. “…you’re ‘urting me…” He muttered, quietly.
"Sorry. sorry..." Soldier whispered, letting him go. He felt as if his world was crashing down before his ears. Everything felt slightly less real. He needed something to hold on to. Something to make him solid again.
Medic came back, with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a cloth. “Sorry. Couldn’t find zhe ointment, but zhis might help.” He handed it over to the Frenchman, who gingerly pressed it against his side, and swung his legs over the side of the gurney.
“Find someone else to protect.” Spy frowned, not looking back at Solider. “I’m tired of you treating me like an infant.” Despite Medic’s protests, he stepped onto the floor, and weakly limped his way out of the room, with his bag of peas still held to his wound.
Heavy looked up at Soldier. "Are you... Okay?"
Soldier just stared at his hands. "Yeah. I just... need a moment..." Soldier laid down, and was still, but not asleep.
Edit -- 3 Sept 2019
Earlier, in this chapter and chapter 13, Spy was referred to having been pounced on by a Hunter before the group got to him and apparently having gotten it off of him, possibly defeating it before Medic and Heavy spotted him on the roof. Obviously, this is impossible in game, would probably be difficult even for someone like Heavy, and it seemed quite a stretch of the imagination to imagine Spy, who was already so badly wounded that he couldn't even walk on his own, pulling it off on his own.
I tell you this because if you find any more references to a bruise on his stomach that I forgot to scrub, that was a remnant of that old version of the RP before Fridge Logic kicked in. That's also why there will be mentions of Medic and Spy applying cold compresses to the burn wounds, despite the fact that it's actually kind of detrimental to burn wounds to use that. I tried my best, okay.
Chapter 16: Weakness
Spy tries to come to terms with his new situation.
Outside, in the pharmacy, Spy limped his way over to the tiny book section of the pharmacy. He slumped down on the floor, and picked up a 3-dollar copy of Hamlet, and began to read it. Soon, he grew bored with it, and threw it across the aisle, churlishly.
Heavy came out to keep him company. "You should be resting."
“Are you going to coddle me like a child, zhen, too?” Spy frowned up at him.
"No. But I do not think Soldier was meaning to. He is doing badly since you left. I think maybe there was... a misunderstanding."
“What do you mean?” Spy looked up from the two-dollar English-French dictionary he now held.
"Soldier cannot function without... higher need, yes? Is him who needs you, I think."
Spy sighed. “Why does it ‘ave to be me? Why not someone else?”
"He feels guilt for... story you tell? Three American soldiers that do wrong? Maybe because you are most injured. Is no way of telling. But... Maybe for him you can... pretend he helps?"
“But ‘e doesn’t!” Spy threw the dictionary across the aisle now. “ ‘e only makes me feel worse! Makes me feel like…like someone can see just ‘ow pazhetic and useless I feel, and zhat maybe I really AM, but…but I don’t want to be…I…I’ve been taking care of myself since I was very young, and I… I don’t want anyone to…to tell me I can’t do it, because I ‘ave been doing it, and will KEEP doing it, and I just want someone to see zhat!” He burst into tears, and covered his face with his hands, letting the bag of peas fall to the floor.
Heavy blinked. "Soldier just wants to help... You are angry because he wants to help? Because he cares about you like brother?"
Spy looked away from Heavy, and just cried for a while, before he was able to recompose himself. “I am not angry because ‘e wants to ‘elp, I…I am angry because…because I need ‘elp.” He sniffled again, wiping his eyes.
Heavy nodded. "Is not easy thing to ask for, da?" he sighed, picking up the frozen peas again and placing it on Spy's wound.
He hissed at the cold, but took it, and held it there. “Zhank you.” He breathed, looking down at the floor. “And you’re right, it…it is not easy to ask for ‘elp, especially when you’ve…when you ‘aven’t needed it for so long. When you’ve been able to just…survive on your own for so long.”
Heavy smiled. "I have feeling you and Soldier are more alike than you think."
“Maybe…” Spy muttered, and just stared at the aisle across from them. “…I should go apologize to ‘im, shouldn’t I.”
"If you want to."
He paused for a moment, then sighed, and went to get up. When he winced, and fell back, he held his hand out to Heavy. “Little ‘elp?”
"Yes. Will be my pleasure." A smile. "Comrade."
“Merci, mon ami.” Spy smiled back, as he was helped to his feet. He limped his way back to where he’d left Soldier, and pushed open the door, after a moment of hesitation. “Soldier?”
"Yeah?" Soldier asked distantly. He was staring out into space almost fearfully, eyes glazed with terror and uncertainty.
Spy paused, and limped forward, to where the other man sat. “…I’m sorry.”
"What...?" Soldier turned to the man, eyes unsure.
He stepped a little closer. “I’m sorry.” He restated, a little louder this time.
"...... Thank you." A smile. "You ain't mad at me for... what I did?" It was obvious he wasn't even sure what he'd done, himself.
“I never was.” Spy shook his head, and looked down at the floor, ashamed. “I was just…mad at myself, I suppose.”
"At yourself? Why? What did I do?"
“You didn’t do anyzhing, okay!?” Spy spat, exasperated, and looked up at the ceiling, now. “You…it’s not your fault. I’m…I’m zhe one ‘oo…’oo is…crazy, I guess. I don’t know.” He sat down on the table, staring back at the floor. “So…I’m sorry.”
There was silence for a moment, and then Soldier just held the man tightly to himself. "It's alright. Just... Just get summore rest, alright? Here's that water from before..."
“Zhank you.” He took it, and downed the bottle in less than a minute, then threw it to the floor, with a small huff of frustration. “…I really am sorry. I mean it. I never meant to…to ‘urt you, or worry you, or anyzhing. Really I didn’t.”
"Eh, don't worry 'bout me. What's buggin' you?"
“I just…” his voice broke, and he sniffled again. “I ‘ate zhis.”
Silence. "The monsters?"
Spy nodded, biting his lip to silence any potential sobs.
Soldier paused. "I do, too," he admitted softly. "I... I hate what they're turning us into..."
Another sniffle. “My ‘ole life, I… since zhe war, I mean, I…I’ve ‘ad to rely on myself to survive, and I did just zhat. I was fine, all by myself, and I never ‘ad to ask for ‘elp from anyone. Not ever. And now…all of zhis, I… I just feel so…patetic, and weak.”
"Yer hurt! There's nothin' wrong with waitin' til ya get better." A pause. "... ‘Sides... I... I really mostly take care of ya because... Well... I need to." Soldier looked down with a sigh, frustration already starting to bubble forth. "... I know," he muttered softly.
“Know what?” Spy looked back at him, over his shoulder.
"How... weird you gotta think that is... But I can't... I can't just do things for myself. I just can't..."
“Considering zhe life I’ve led, yes, it…it does seem a little weird.” He looked back down at the floor. “ ‘ave I really grown so callous zhat it seems a foreign concept to want to ‘elp ozhers?”
Soldier just stared at him, as if not fully recognizing that the question was rhetorical.
Spy just sighed, and shook his head, ashamed of himself. “I am…just zhe worst type of ‘uman being. Really I am.”
"No you're not. Those soldiers are. If they hadn't done what they did... Maybe you would have had a better life," the man growled.
“But if I ‘and’t done what I did, zhey…zhey wouldn’t ‘ave ‘ad reason to do zhat.” Spy protested.
"You did it to help your mother. That's a solid enough reason for anything."
“But I could ‘ave…zhere were ozher…” Spy trailed off. “I could ‘ave…I don’t know. Joined zhe army or somezhing.” He shrugged, knowing full well there was no place that would have hired him at the tender age of twelve.
"Why are you making excuses for them?" Soldier asked softly, touching the man's shoulder.
“Because! I…” He looked at him, eyes glassy, before he looked away, “When zhey were…carving zhis into my face,” he pointed to his cheek, where the balaclava covered his scar, “Zhey made my mozher watch, and…and told ‘er what a little slut I was, and ‘ow she was going to die, and it would be all my fault, for ‘oring myself out to zhe Germans, and…and a very big part of me believed it. Believed zhat it was my fault. Zhat part still does.”
"It was never your fault... There wasn't anything else you could do... You..." A pause. "You were a good boy, Spy... And you're a good man now. And I... I... care... deeply... about you. For that."
Spy sniffled, “But I could ‘ave tried ‘arder to find work! Real work! I…I could ‘ave travelled furzher sout, and sent money ‘ome, or…” his breath hitched, and he curled forward as far as he could, comfortably, and the tears started to stain his balaclava.
Soldier felt helpless. What could he do to make the man feel better? If anything?
Spy sniffled, and lifted the balaclava so he could wipe at his eyes better. “I’m sorry…just…just forget I said anyzhing. It doesn’t matter now anyway.”
"You sure?" Soldier asked softly, holding the man tightly. "I mean... I..." A pause. "Alright."
“Yes, I’m…I’m fine. Zhank you.” Spy pulled his mask back down, and stared down at the floor. He chuckled nervously, “Sorry I’m…such a wreck.”
"My uncle went crazy after the first world war and filled my father's face so full of buckshot, it was more lead than flesh and bone. You ain't the worst I've seen, Private." A smile.
Spy paled at the imagery, and his smile immediately dropped. “Um…zhank you.” He replied, still not quite sure what to say to that. "So… your fazher...did 'e...did 'e die from zhat?"
"Yeah. It was fast, though. Faster than my Uncle when he shot himself in the face afterwards. He lived for four hours! Weird, right? To this day, I always shoot those infected freaks twice in the head just in case."
Spy just stared at him, dumbstruck, and turned his head away, slowly, eyes wide in horrific shock.
".... Too soon?"
“Per’aps a bit.” Spy whispered, staring at the wall.
"Sorry..." Soldier took a moment, then hugged Spy tightly. "I'm really sorry... I'll shut up, really."
“No, it’s fine, I just…you’re quite…graphic, in zhe stories you tell. It’s…” Spy paused. “I won’t lie, zhey’re a little…disturbing. But…why don’t you…tell me somezhing about yourself zhat…zhat doesn’t end in…well, ‘orrific death?”
"... Well... That's gonna be a hard one..."
“Oh, zhere must be…somzehing, right?” Spy looked over at him, smiling nervously a little. “What about your mozher? Is she…still living?”
Soldier paused for a moment, an unreadable expression crossing his face. "I'm not sure. When I went off to join WWII, I left and never looked back. She was... a good woman. But... She and... and I... We weren't too... close." He set his jaw resolutely.
Spy nodded, understanding. “You talked about your grandfazher, before. What about ‘im? What was ‘e like?”
"Oh yeah!" A grin as Soldier’s face brightened again. "Toughest fucker on the plant! He fought in the Civil War! He was even still alive when I went off to war. He was what gave me my love of guns and fighting, and the one who taught me that pain is just weakness leaving the body!"
“I don’t know about zhat.” Spy muttered, looking down at his feet again. “It ‘urt a lot when zhey cut into my face. Still felt pretty weak after zhat. Weaker, really, from zhe loss of blood.”
"He meant from... eh... exercise, mostly. And beatings, too. Blood is something different. You kind of NEED that."
“J’en sais quelque chose.” He chuckled, leaning back into Soldier, a little bit dizzy. “Can I…can you move? I’d like to lie down. I’m not feeling well.”
"Sure thing..." Soldier smiled and moved aside. He didn't say so, but it would be comforting to have someone to hold onto...
“Zhank you.” Spy smiled back, and laid down on the table. Gingerly, he rubbed at his temple a bit. “Don’t stop, zhough. I like ‘earing your stories. Zhe…not gory ones, at least.”
"Well... One time, my grandpa found out I didn't know how to swim. So he decided that summer that he was going to teach me if it was the last thing I did. He took me to the neighborhood watering hole and PLUNK, dropped me in, just like that! I probably work the whole town screamin' like I did!"
Spy looked up at him, surprised. “…were you…I mean, obviously you lived, but…what ‘appened?”
"Well, at first, I sank like a rock. Then that's when Ol' Mikey - that's what the big, neighborhood gator's name was - decided he had enough of my splashin, and went to go help me out. Well, I think he was a little confused at first because he tried snappin' at me once or twice, but I accidentally punched him in his big, dumb skull, and he was real quiet after that. I learned how to doggy paddle by using him like a floating device!"
Even more surprise. “…zhat sounds…razher…traumatizing, honestly.” He laughed. “And ‘ere I zhought my fazher was being cruel when ‘e took me out to zhe deep end of zhe pond. Razher pales in comparison now.”
Soldier laughed and shrugged. "That old, crazy bastard knew what he was doing. Maybe I was just a tougher kid than the rest from the start who knows."
“You certainly make it sound like you were tougher zhan I was.” He laughed. “I cried like a baby until Papa brought me back to shore, and you punched an alligator in zhe face.”
"It was on accident!" Soldier cried. "Poor Mikey was moping for the rest of the weekend..." He thought of the gator as a large pet rather than a threat, it seemed.
“I believe you, I believe you.” He smiled. “Go on. Tell me more of your stories. Zhey’re a lot nicer zhan most of mine.”
Soldier continued well into the night, telling Spy of all of his spectacular childhood tales.
Elsewhere in the pharmacy, Scout was strutting around, feeling pretty damn good about himself.
Medic strode by, on his way to check on Spy and Soldier, and saw Scout. He smiled warmly at the boy, and gave him a wave. “Hello zhere.”
Scout broke out into a huge, utterly giddy smile, laughed for whatever reason, and ran his fingers through his hair. "Hey..." he returned, feeling like the luckiest fucking guy in the world for whatever reason.
“You seem awfully cheery today.” Medic smiled, closing the gap between them. "You slept vell, I take it?"
"Heeeeellz yeah!" A chuckle. "You got some pretty good moves on ya still... old man."
Medic chuckled back. "And zhat vas only a taste, liebchen. If you ever find yourself looking for more, you know vhere I-"
"How about right now, huh? Think you got enough buck in ya to take me on?" Scout challenged, grinning.
“I suppose I do.” Medic grinned back. “Shall ve go somevhere more comfortable?” he gestured towards the sleeping area.
Scout bounded into the room, eager for more "lessons".
With this chapter, we've officially surpassed my actual legitimate fanfic Breaking Point in sheer terms of words. And, spoiler alert, we're only about... idk, 30%-ish percent through uploading this mammoth of an RP. And that's keeping in mind how script-like it is. Yikes. I hope everyone reading is having a good time reading it so far. I'll probably take a break soon due to mental health reasons.
Chapter 17: Trick Question (Explicit)
Medic gives Scout a lesson in biology.
I decided splitting up porn sections, regardless of length, is stupid. So here ya go, a really huge porn section just for those who care.
Medic took off his tie, and strode casually into the room, moving far more slowly than the Scout, but no less eager. He shut the door behind him, kicked off his shoes, and sat on his mattress.
Shout kicked off his shoes, too, and toed off his socks. He flopped on the mattress eagerly and reached for the waistband of Medic's pants.
“Ah ah ah.” Medic chided, slapping the boy’s hands away. “Ve do zhis right.” He shuffled, pulling the boy into his lap, and bringing him close, until they were nose to nose. “You vish to kiss me again?”
"Yeah." And Scout leaned forward to-
“Vhat are you doing?” Medic pulled back, smirking, and turned his face so his cheek was in front of Scout’s mouth now.
"Hell, man - I'm tryin' to kiss you!" Scout whined. A smirk. "Yer such a fuckin' tease... You know how to drive me crazy..." He tried kissing the older man again.
Medic chuckled, and turned his head away again, humming with amusement. “Just testing your patience, Scoutchen. He grinned, and moved his lips back into position. “You may.” He puckered his lips slightly.
Scout dove in, all tongue and needy youthfulness.
Medic allowed the boy’s tongue to pass, and stroked his own, slowly, against the appendage. His hands came up to stroke at Scout’s face and scalp, sensually.
Scout hummed, holding Medic closely - possessively. Okay, yeah. He wanted to fuck this dude silly.
The older man broke the kiss with a wet sound, and began kissing the boy’s face and neck, moving slowly, and sensually, as before.
Scout groaned and tilted his neck to the side, perfectly content to let Medic continue exactly as he was doing.
“You see?” Medic hummed, nipping gently at the tender flesh behind Scout’s ear. “Moving slowly feels nice, ja? Feels good.”
"Well, sometimes. Not all the time," Scout mumbled.
Medic pulled back, and unbuttoned his shirt halfway. “You vant to try?”
Scout blinked. "Eh... I'm more of a... straight-to-the-point, starts-sucking-your-dick-right-away kinda guy."
“Oh, vhat a shame.” Medic pretended to sigh, disappointed, as he stroked the boy, gently, through the fabric of his shirt. “Zhe release is oh-so-much sveeter vhen you take your time.”
"I dunno how, man... I usually did this sorta stuff... In really short spans of time - like, right before a dude's wife came home or some shit. All I really know how to do is give ya a good time in the shortest possible span of... time. Yanno?"
“But I haff no wife, and we haff no reason to rush, now do ve?” He smiled, stripping the boy of his shirt, and began to caress the toned flesh he found there.
"Yeah, but... It's just... Just..." A ragged intake of breath. "I...Instinct..."
“And I understand zhat, Scoutchen. Really I do.” He soothed, stroking the boy’s arms. “But it can sometimes be fun to fight our instincts, if vone is villing to…try.” He raised his eyebrows, smirking.
Scout huffed. "A...Alright... Just wish this sort of thing came with training wheels or some shit..." A grin. "Get on yer back."
Medic hummed, intrigued, and complied, with a smile.
Scout set to work, his inexperienced mouth suckling and nipping at places he figured were pleasure centers - the pulse point of the neck, the skin right above the collarbone..... It was hit-and-miss at best, but his earnestness was something to be greatly admired.
“Mmm…good, Scout. Keep going.” Medic smiled, sighing, pleased, whenever the boy sucked on a particularly nice area.
There was a slight unzipping noise as Scout went to sneak a fondle at his swollen cock.
“Ah ah ah!” Medic chided again, not even having to open his eyes. “Patience, Scout, patience.”
A whine. "Can I at least blow ya, then? This is torture, man!"
Another chuckle. “Vork your vay down. Count my ribs wizh your lips. If you get zhe number right, perhaps I vill let you.”
Scout was immediately on it, but still tried to go slowly.
“Good…good…” Medic praised, and he rubbed the boy’s shoulders as he kissed down his torso. “Zhat’s right. Nice and slow…”
Scout shifted so that he was straddling one of the older man's legs, and pressed his bulging pants against the thigh insistently. Still, he went down slowly, kissing his down Medic's abdominal muscles. "Yeah... You like this, don'tcha...?" he murmured quietly.
Medic grinned, and moved his thigh against the boy’s groin, teasingly. “It seems you do, too, Scoutchen.”
"Oh, yeah, I love it... I'm gonna blow ya so good, you won't be able to see straight, ya fuckin' slut. You fuckin' want me so much..."
“Hmm, vhat a dirty mouth you have.” Medic cooed, stroking the boy’s hair. “I cannot vait to see you put it to good use. How many ribs haff you found?” He smirked.
"Oh, uh..." Damn, it was so hard to stay focused. "Um..." He counted with his lips again. "Uh... T...Ten...? Is that right...?"
Medic smiled, and shook his head. “Try again.”
Scout frowned. "Twenty, then. Ya know what I mean, Deutsch-Bag."
Medic still smiled that smarmy smile. “I do not have twenty ribs, Scout. Try again.”
"What?" Scout counted again, this time checking both sides. Maybe he'd been in some horrible, rib-removing accident and actually had 19 or something, but... Nope, ten on both side. "Twentyyyyy!" he whined again, pouting.
Medic merely shook his head, with that same grin. “Nein, Scout. Not twenty. Keep trying.”
The older man laughed, and pulled Scout down to kiss him, tenderly.
Scout was not a tender kisser. He was not a tender person, in general. He attacked Medic's mouth with that same youthful hunger, as if to suck the life out of his very body.
But Medic wasn’t having any of it. He pulled his lips away, and began kissing the boy’s neck and hairline instead.
A whine. "C'mon, man - I'mma lose it! Don't tease me, alright?"
Another chuckle. “I do not haff twenty ribs.” He whispered. “Vould you like help in counting zhis time?”
"Yes!" Scout cried, desperation in his eyes.
Medic laid back down, and pointed at his first rib. “Vone…”
"One, yeah, yeah.... Alright..."
He merely looked up at the boy, unimpressed. “Vone…” he repeated, pulling the boy’s head down, gently, towards his chest.
"Oh, right." A loving kiss. "One..."
Medic smiled, and pointed to the next. “Two…”
A kiss. "Two." He glanced back up at Medic.
They continued in this way for a bit- Medic pointing to each rib set, and Scout kissing them, as gently as he could. “Ten…” Another kiss, “Eleven.” He finished, pointing to a spot that was a little higher than his kidneys. “And twelve.” Another point.
Scout looked up at him utterly confused. “What? Wanna run that by me again?”
Medic just laughed. “Zhere were two pairs you could not feel because zhey are classified as ‘floating ribs’. Zhey do not connect viz zhe ozzer ribs or zhe sternum – only zhe vertebrae. Zhey are hard to pick up by anyone who isn’t well learned in human anatomy and knows vhat to look for...”
A startled laugh. “You COCK! Ya did that on purpose, didn’t ya?!”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
"Jeez, man! At first I, like, thought you had a horrible accident or somethin’ or were born without a rib on one side or somethin’. But it’d be alright, anyhow. I’d still like ya. I was actually born with two toes stuck together – I ever tell ya that?" He wiggled his feet. "Got it fixed in surgery sometime after I was hired by Mann Co. It was real embarrassin'. Would keep my socks on even durin' sex cause I was afraid it'd turn off the guy I was baggin'."
“Poor Scoutchen.” Medic soothed, rubbing the boy’s back, “Poor deformed Scoutchen.” He grinned, still stroking along his spine, and the nape of his neck.
"Hey." A pout as Scout jerked away. "Don't make fun of me, ya jackass."
He chuckled, and leaned up to peck the boy gently on the lips. “I’m sorry.” Another peck, to his cheek, “How vill I ever make it up to you?”
"By cutting the bullshit and letting me fuck ya." A grin.
A grin, mirroring Scout’s, but with a more relaxed gaze. “Vell, I suppose you DID get very close wizh zhe ribs…”
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I did." A broad grin.
“Now, vhat vhas it you vere going to do vhen you counted zhem all? Hmmm.” Medic pursed his lips, in thought. “My memory is not vhat it used to be. I seem to haff forgotten!” He shrugged, with a shit-eating grin.
"You were gonna test out yer gag reflexes," Scout chuckled darkly, brandishing his fully erect cock. It wasn't all THAT big, but, as Scout had mentioned, it was enough to trigger the gag reflex.
“Hmm. I look forward to it.” He grinned, pulling Scout’s hips closer to him, his member inches away from his mouth. Ever the infuriating tease, he began softly blowing warm air over the boy’s erect cock.
A whine. Scout's body shuddered, but he endured the torture bravely.
After a bit of this literal blow job, Medic began softly nuzzling the flesh around Scout’s genitals with his nose, breathing in the scent of the curly hairs at the base of his shaft.
"C...cut it out, Doc..." Scout growled softly, grabbing a fistful of hair.
“Patience, Scout.” Medic grinned up at him, and licked the root of the shaft ever so gently.
Scout's hand jerked as if he were tempted to finish the job with his hand instead of dicking around.
Medic chuckled, and took hold of both of the boy’s hands, gently rubbing his thumbs over the palms, as he kissed his way up the shaft.
"Hnnngh.... Fuck, this feels good," Scout sighed.
“I told you it vould.” Medic smiled, and kissed at the tip, gently, a few times. Soon, he was mouthing the sensitive head, his tongue sneaking out to prod at the slit occasionally.
"Just blow me alreadyyyy!" Scout whined, twisting on the mattress.
Medic smirked, pulled off, and blew a jet of warm air, harder than before, on the spit-slicked tip.
Scout couldn't take it anymore. One hand unconsciously flew down to fondle his poor, neglected manhood.
The doctor quickly grabbed the hand back, and held it in his own, as he sucked at the base of Scout’s cock, moving upward slightly with each suck.
Scout's cock throbbed pleadingly, as the boy twisted and groaned in agony some more. His body was covered in a thin veil of sweat. Horny teenagers were the best.
Once Medic had sucked his way up to the tip, he gave it another quick kiss, and then began flicking his tongue over it repeatedly.
There was a jerk, then, and Scout splattered Medic's lips and tongue with his seed, gasping in his release. Fucking embarrassing. He'd popped a preemie AGAIN.
Medic was surprised, to say the least, but he licked up the semen that landed on him, and then cleaned Scout’s cock of it as well. “Felt good, Scoutchen?” He asked amidst his cleaning, as he stroked the small of the boy’s back.
"Yeah..." Scout mumbled, cheeks still flushed with embarrassment as he came down from his orgasm. "... Sorry. I told ya - I can't handle stuff like that, man..."
A soft chuckle. “Perhaps in time, yes?” He smiled up at the boy, tenderly.
Scout returned the smile. "Heh... Yeah...." He hugged the man tightly.
Medic’s erection dug into Scout’s leg, as he hugged the boy back, stroking up and down his spine again.
"... Hey, man. C'mon. Let me take care of that." A grin as Scout looked up into Medic's eyes.
“You don’t haff to.” Medic shrugged, rubbing at the boy’s shoulder blades.
"Feels painful, man. C'mon. You can mouth-fuck me if you want. Just take it easy on my tonsils!"
“Nein, nein.” He shook his head. “I do not like it so…violent, if you haff not noticed.” He smirked. “Tenderness is what I like. What I prefer.”
"Oh..." Scout blinked awkwardly. He didn't do tenderness very well. "Hmmm... Alright, how about this. Somethin' simple. I give you a handjob?"
Medic smiled. “Zhat vould be nice, yes.” He nodded.
"Alright, then." Scout patted the side of the bed next to him, motioning for Medic to lie down.
He complied, and laid there, with a soft smile, hands folded casually on his stomach.
Scout embraced him gingerly, wrapping one of his wiry arms around Medic's front, and started by gingerly rubbing the head with his thumb.
Medic sighed, and hummed lightly in approval, letting his eyes slip close in pleasure.
"You wanna hold me back or somethin', bro?" Scout chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the man's neck.
“Nein…” He moaned, softly. “You are doing just fine.”
Scout nuzzled the man's face and tickled the underside of the shaft gingerly. Then he began to pump ever-so softly, swirling his thumb in loose circles.
Medic’s breath hitched a few times, and he licked his lips, thoroughly enjoying the stimulation. “Ja… Gut…” He nodded, praising the efforts, “Very good, Scoutchen.”
Scout moaned very softly in Medic's ear, pressing the thick shaft against the man's own abdominal muscles and rubbing at it insistently with the flat of his palm. It was a trick he'd learned when he was younger, and never failed to please. He could feel himself starting to pop a boner again, but he wasn't too concerned with it.
“Mmm!” Medic moaned, surprised and pleased by the action, and bucked into Scout’s hand once, his breaths starting to quicken.
"Oh-hooo...!~" Scout purred, a wry smirk beginning on his face. "Finally getting a little eager, huh?" He nibbled on the man's ear.
Another soft moan, and Medic reached around behind him, to grope at Scout’s ass, awkwardly.
A laugh from Scout. "Guess I shoulda put more thought into how we sit, huh?"
Medic laughed back, gyrating his hips into the Scout’s palm. Still he groped at the young man’s firm buttock, though, holding onto it tightly, pleased with the feel of his flesh beneath his palm, and began to moan louder.
Scout squeezed tighter as the man thrust in and loosened his grip when he was pulling out, another trick he used on himself. Slight panting as he spat on his other hand and rubbed Medic's head as it breached the top of his palm.
Medic’s other hand grabbed at the mattress, and clung to it tightly, as he approached his climax. His moans increased in pitch, tempo, and volume, as his hips bucked wildly against Scout’s ministrations. Sweat poured from the roots of his bangs, and he swore, in German, as he grew ever closer to the edge.
Scout was kissing and sucking on the man's neck, wanting to hear him scream. "Fuck, fuck, yeah... Yeah, fuckin' come all over my hand - you know you want it..."
He would be a little bit disappointed. All that escaped Medic’s lips as he ejaculated was a strangled cry and several breathy, shuddering moans, his body trembling in Scout’s grip as he came down. That was definitely good enough for Scout. He purred softly as he milked Medic further, then lowered himself to lick up all the cum from the man's curly, slightly greying pubic hairs.
“No.” he stopped Scout with his hand, and looked down at him, still panting. “I…I vant to…” Medic reached down, and scooped up some of the cum with his fingers, and began smearing it over Scout’s shoulders, gently rubbing it into the flesh.
"Uh..." Scout blinked, a little creeped out. "Well... okay..."
Medic smiled, and began kissing the side of Scout’s neck as he picked up more of his seed with his fingers, and began massaging the boy’s back, using the semen as some sort of stand-in lotion. "Does that feel good?" He whispered, in mid-kiss.
"Uh... Kinda weird, actually." Discomfort from the young man. “Why're ya doin' this, man?”
“I am not entirely sure.” Medic nuzzled Scout’s cheek. “I haff always liked doing zhis, zhough. Rubbing my seed into my partner’s skin. Perhaps it is some sort of territorial marking, I don’t know.” He kissed again, biting gently at the tender flesh. “But no sex act feels complete vithout it. Zhat’s all I know.”
"You... sure you don't mind me lickin' it all up, or somethin'?"
“Nein.” He inhaled, kissing the boy’s neck. “I like smelling myself on you in zhe morning.” He grinned. “Like zhis morning.”
"Y...You did that already without askin' me about it?!" Scout cried, entire body going rigid from... Yes, disgust.
“Vell, you vere already asleep.” He chuckled, but it died off when he felt the boy’s stiff posture. “Vhat is zhe matter?”
"Um... Nothing… No harm done -- I just wish you woulda asked first, is all." He felt a strong urge to shower. It was probably his imagination, but he could FEEL them squirming around on his skin!
“And I vish you vould haff varned me before cumming all over my face, but vhat has happened has happened, yes?” He grinned, leaning in to kiss Scout tenderly on the lips.
Scout avoided the kiss, averting the kiss with a furrowed brow. “I-I mean… That was mostly an accident…” he mumbled quietly. He sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly. “Listen, Doc… I know it’s kinda silly, but… I’d really appreciate if you asked next time, alright?” he asked. “Just so I’m in the loop about things… That sound okay?”
Medic raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Vell… Alright, zhen. If it’s vhat vould make you more comfortable, zhen I suppose it doesn’t really matter, ja?”
Scout smiled and nodded, finally leaning forward to give the man his well deserved kiss. “Yeah, hehe…”
The kiss lasted only a few seconds, and when Medic pulled away, he smiled warmly at the younger man. “Vell, I must go prepare lunch for zhe ozhers. Vould you like to help?”
"If you want me to. Otherwise, I'm good here." Scout chuckled.
“Some help vould be nice, yes.” He nodded, and began re-dressing, within a few minutes, back to his normal, rather regal self, though his cheeks still tinted with a bit of afterglow.
Scout smiled and joined him, though he wasn't sure exactly what you could "prepare" at a time like this.
Chapter 18: Other Half
Spy makes an unwise decision, prompting an unexpected admission from Soldier.
Luckily for the survivors, this pharmacy had a rather sizable grocery section, and, though it had been picked over rather badly, there were still several things left to eat. Today’s lunch was macaroni and cheese, with some hot dogs cut up in it. Not exactly haute cuisine, but it was tasty, and it was food, and that was enough.
Spy woke up to see Soldier get up with a mutter, and stumble to the other end of the room. “Where are you going?” He called out, not rising from the table-bed yet.
"To use the piss-bucket," Soldier grunted, unzipping his pants.
“Oh.” Spy blushed, and turned his head away, trying to ignore the sounds of trickling liquid.
Soldier groaned. "Ya know what? Fuck fighting. When I get back to civilization, the thing I most look forward to is fucking functional plumbing!"
“I’d just like to ‘ave a shower zhat’s not ice-cold, but we should feel lucky we ‘ave water, I guess, hein?” Spy replied, still not rolling over from his spot. “But yes, adequate plumbing would be nice.”
Soldier gave a few shakes, then tucked himself back in. "How you feelin'?"
“Tired, but I zhink zhat goes wizhout saying now, hein?” Spy rolled his head over, smiling a little, worn-out smirk.
"You ain't in pain or lightheaded, now, are ya?"
“A little of zhe second, when I turn my ‘ead, but none of zhe first.” He replied, then added, “So long as I don’t move, at least.”
"Well, that don't sound good," Soldier sighed.
“Non.” He closed his eyes, and laid his head back on the table, whining a little when his head spun.
"You think you might be hungry?"
“Maybe.” Spy cracked his eyes open. “What time is it?”
"No idea. Want me to check?"
“No, I’ll get up.” He sat up, wincing when the muscles on his abdomen stretched painfully. Spy swung his legs over the side of the table, and just sat there, panting from the pain, clutching at his wounded side.
Soldier just blinked at him. "I don't think that's smart, Frenchie. I got hurt on the ARM. I can get up. I don't think you can." He tried his best not to baby the Frenchman.
“I got up yesterday, I can get up today.” Spy growled, gritting his teeth. He stepped onto the floor, and limped forward, toward the door, moving at a snail’s pace, and whining softly with every movement.
Soldier huffed and crossed his arms. "Fine. If you want to hurt yourself by moving, do what you want. But don't get mad when if hurt myself trying to carry you back to the damn bed."
Spy panted, leaning on the wall by the door. “You won’t ‘ave to carry me.” He looked back over his shoulder. “I am ‘ungry, I am going to get food. Once I ‘ave eaten it, I will come back, and sleep for zhe next zhree days.” He pressed his forehead on the wall, willing his body to have the strength to make it down the hallway.
Soldier just watched, unimpressed. Then he shrugged and went down the hallway by himself, striding easily. "Suit yourself, Sally."
Spy frowned at how easily his companion could go where he couldn’t- worse, he was flaunting it. Well, if he could crawl across four block’s worth of rooftops with the same wounds, surely he could get out to the pharmacy.
Steeling himself with a deep breath -- though not so deep as to irritate his wound further -- he began to limp down the hallway, and out onto the pharmacy floor. Aisle after aisle were overlooked, until Spy reached the grocery section- specifically frozen goods. He reached into the freezer, grabbed a bag of frozen vegetables, and pressed it against his abdomen, before he slid to the floor, resting.
Soldier peeked around the corner, discreetly trying to make sure Spy was alright.
After laying on the floor for a few minutes, Spy felt rested enough, for now, but not enough to keep walking. Slowly, he began to scoot down the aisle on his ass, holding the bag against his wound with one hand, and using the other to brace himself.
Eventually he reached the aisle with the granola bars. Exhausted, he hauled the box down with one hand, opened it, and tried, in vain, to open one of the bars. Defeated, and panting, he slumped back on the floor.
"Want help, private?" Soldier offered his hand.
Spy looked up at him, and frowned, then handed him the packaged bar, looking away in shame.
Soldier rolled his eyes. "C'mon, stop sulking."
“Just give me zhe cereal bar and leave me alone.” Spy said with a pout.
"Fine." Soldier opened it, and handed it back. "... Medic's cooking something a lot better, though, if you care."
“Define ‘better’.” Spy looked up, suspicious.
"Well... something warm. Mac and cheese and little meaty bits. Smells good."
Spy sucked on his lower lip, salivating a little. “ ‘e will be cooking zhat all zhe way over in appliances, won’t e.” He remarked. That aisle was practically on the other side of the store.
"Yeah I think I can help you steady yourself, though."
“I don’t want your ‘elp!” Spy snapped, hauling himself painfully to his feet. He clung to the shelf heavily, unable to move, and barely able to stand.
"Alright then." Soldier just stood by, watching dispassionately.
One shaky step forward, and then another, and Spy was on the floor in an instant. He fell on the ice pack, and it burst, sending frozen baby peas rolling down the aisle.
"FUCK!!!" Soldier screamed, going to the man's side in an instant. He pulled Spy close.
Spy was crying, though it was unclear whether it was from the pain or from how he felt, emotionally. Judging by the sob-stricken cries of broken English, professing how pathetic he was, it was probably the latter.
Soldier lifted up his shirt to check for any bleeding. Medic would be pissed if there was.
The bandage was, indeed, starting to show the tiniest trickle of red. Likely just a ripped scab or two, but given how much blood he’d already lost, it was enough of a cause for concern.
Soldier glared at him, highly pissed by his poor decision making. "So, is this any less embarrassing than taking my help?" he asked in a furious, low voice.
Spy looked up at him, eyes still dripping with tears. “Désolé…” He sniffed.
Soldier gritted his teeth. "I care about you, and I DON'T like seeing you hurt. If you're willing to put your health on the line for some stupid fucking pride, then I guess my only choice is to follow you to the gates of hell."
Grunting with exertion, Soldier lifted the man in his arms, and began dragging them back to their room.
“Stop! Stop!” Spy cried out, weakly, “You’ll ‘urt yourself! Put me down!”
"I didn't ask for your advice, Sweetheart," Soldier snarled, eyes steeled and hiding away any pain he might be feeling. “If you can keep disregarding your wellbeing for your petty fucking pride, then so will I.”
Spy tried to wiggle out of the other man’s grip, to no avail. Suddenly struck by inspiration, he pretended to cry out in pain. “Let go! You’re ‘urting me!”
Soldier faltered, cursed, and placed the man on the ground. "What? What is it? What'd I hurt?"
Shit. Spy didn’t expect him to ask. “Euh…”
Just then, Scout came scampering out to see what the noise was all about. "Hey, guys, what's going on in this--HEY!!!" A glare. "You two are supposed to be restin' up! I'm getting Medic and Heavy!"
Soldier groaned. NOW we're gonna get in trouble! he thought.
Spy noticed his concern. “I ‘ave an idea.” He explained. “I tried to get up, you went after me, and zhen zhis ‘appened.” He flopped on the floor, and pretended to be unconscious.
"I can fight my own battles, thanks," Soldier muttered, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to the smaller man.
Spy frowned, and sat back up, wincing again. He looked down at the blood beginning to stain the bandage on his abdomen. “Merde…I really did ‘urt myself, didn’t I.”
Soldier grumbled something under his breath.
“Pardon?” Spy looked over.
"I'll be sure to hurt myself more next time," Soldier repeated louder. Since that seems to be the only thing to get through your thick skull, he added in his mind.
“…are you…okay?” Spy scooted closer to him, concerned.
"No." Soldier's words were short and terse.
“Let me see.” Spy stretched a bandaged hand towards his wound.
Soldier pulled away. "No. I don't like you hurting yourself. Doing things that hurt you hurts the whole group!"
"How long do you think we have to stay here before the infected root us out, huh?" he snapped. "We can't keep sitting here, waiting for you to heal, only for you to get hurt because of your STUPID pride and setting yourself back again! That's not just your own blood you're wasting! It's Medic's blood and his work!"
"I want you to stop it, Spy." Soldier’s voice dropped into a low, ominous undertone. "Next time I ask you if you need help and you do, you'd better fucking TAKE it. Got that? I wouldn't be offering if it wasn't for your own fucking sake."
Spy looked down at the floor, tears dipping on the tile. “Why do you care? Why should you care what ‘appens to me? No one else does!”
"Because I NEED you to survive, Private."
“WHY? WHY, GODDAMN IT?!” He spat, chest shuddering with his shaky breaths.
"Because. You're..." The man thought. "You're my other half."
“Your…what?” Spy seemed genuinely confused. He didn’t even know what the term meant, let alone what Soldier meant by it.
"I think we're two halves of the same person," Soldier repeated solemnly. "Like twins. Only in personality."
Spy raised his eyebrow. “ ‘ow on earzh do you figure zhat? We’re nozhing alike!”
"You say that, but we are!" Soldier snapped defensively. "We're both bullheaded and used to relying on ourselves to get stuff done! We're both really strong inside and care..." He trailed off for a moment. "... Care more about each other than ourselves..."
Spy looked up at him, and then back down to the floor. “Speak for yourself.”
Soldier was silent a moment.
Spy was silent too.
"... Well, alright." Soldier’s voice was soft now, eyes hidden away from sight. "If that's really the way it is." He left Spy on the ground and went off to the other end of the store.
Spy sat there, thinking for a long time, and crying, too, before he couldn’t take anymore. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything. It was the truth, but he still should’ve kept quiet. And so, he began crawling and scooting towards the saferoom door.
Remember back at the beginning of the story where I said at one point I start getting pissed off with Spy? Yeah, this is the start of that. While I really liked Spy's backstory, he was an especially frustrating muse to have to work with. And while I'm not sure exactly when I started talking to my partner about this, it was definitely brought up at this point.
It was frustrating to have him cry and go into self loathing tailspins every time someone spoke sharply towards him, but still have to deal with his odd pride that kept getting him hurt or incapacitated just because he was unwilling to take any form of help when he was badly injured. Worse still that I'd already invested Soldier's character so heavily into being his caretaker of sorts. Someone who wasn't "all there" -- as one might put politely -- in the first place.
From this point in the RP on, you might see a bit of a passive aggressive shift in some of the characters I control. They're much less likely to take sympathy with Spy's plight and try to harshly talk some sense into him. And Soldier starts suffering as well from the... admittedly toxic hot/cold relationship with Spy he's trying to salvage. Things get a bit weird with him from here on out, just a warning.
But hopefully that doesn't distract too much from the story as a whole! There's more than just those two and we have quite a few twists around the corner for the plot as a whole. Hope you guys enjoy it so far! Feel free to leave a comment or something.
Chapter 19: Incognito Mode
Spy stumbles across a surprising discovery, while the group debates its further use.
"Scout, you took long time to get us!" Heavy cried, coming down the steps.
"Hey, man, I got distracted by the plot! Lay off!" the kid snapped back.
Heavy shook his head. "Never mind. Where is Spy and Soldier?"
Scout blinked. "Iunno. They were just there a second ago..."
A metal clang echoed through the pharmacy. The bar on the saferoom door had been lifted.
"I'M ON IT, BIG GUY!" The boy raced off to pull whoever it was to safety.
It was Spy, panting, and terrified about what was to come. He saw the Scout racing towards him. “Tell Soldier I’m sorry.” He ordered, before throwing himself out the door.
There weren't many zombies around, but the ones that were began shuffling closer to investigate.
Spy saw them moving towards him, and he began crawling toward them, eager for it all to be over. The group drew closer, and closer, and then…walked right by him. Like he didn’t even exist. Spy merely laid there, on the ground, utterly confused.
Scout shot a few of them in the head, then bashed the other one with the side of the door. "C'mon, jackass - get in here!" he screamed, hauling the man inside again.
Spy let himself be hauled, nothing but dead weight in the runner’s arms. He stared out at the world, before the saferoom door shut, utterly perplexed, and unaware of everyone standing around him in horror and shock.
"... That was a DICK move, man..." Scout said shakily. "Do you only think about yourself or some shit?"
“WOT TH’ BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, SPY?” Sniper screamed, double and triple checking that the door was secure and shut.
Medic merely set to examining the man’s wounds, shaking his head, disappointed.
Spy looked past them all, at nothing. “…ils n’ont me remarqué pas…”
"You said something?" Heavy asked, concerned
Spy looked up at him, like a lost puppy. “Ils n’ont me remarqué pas.” He repeated, “Ils n’ont me remarqué pas!”
Scout slapped him.
"SCOUT!" Heavy cried.
"WHAT?! I saw it on a movie once! It's to stop him from talking like a princess that fell on her head too hard!"
“Zhey didn’t notice me.” Spy repeated, this time in English.
“Vhat?” Medic looked up, in mid-stitch.
“Zhey didn’t…it was like zhey didn’t even see me! Zhey walked right past!”
Scout glanced at Sniper.
Sniper glanced back at him, and walked over to Spy, kneeling down so he was eye level with the man. “Wot’re you sayin’?”
“…I zhink…zhey can be…tricked. Tricked into zhinking we…we’re like zhem.”
"Or maybe you're already becomin' one of them!" Scout cried, readying his pistol again.
“Easy, easy!” Sniper held up his hand, and walked back to the door. There was one regular zombie, but he looked like in life he was fond of fake tans. “Perfect.” He turned back to the group. “Watch my back.” Another clang, as the door’s bar was lifted off again.
Scout shuffled up and peered between the bars, pistol raised.
Sniper got down low, and crawled out, dragging himself along the ground, making noises like one of the common infected as Medic stood by the door, to watch. The infected all grumbled and leaned heavily on the wall, as if resting their heads.
Sniper crawled around on his belly, snarling and growling. He made it all the way to the tan infected, who looked almost like he was trying to pick his nose, completely overlooking the fact that it had long since rotted away.
Still in his posture, Sniper crawled around the infected a few times, and even bumped some of them, lightly, with his leg, as a test.
Pleased by this newfound discovery, Sniper crawled his way back to the saferoom door. “What’d’ya think, boys?” he asked triumphantly.
Scout blinked, staring at him as Medic put all the safeguards back into place. "Weird..."
"So as long as they do not look at us directly, and we sound like one of them, we are safe?" Heavy asked, scratching his chin.
"Hey, whoa, whoa, guys. We still go special infected ta think about," Scout warned. "They're smarter than those bozos out there."
“Strewth.” Sniper nodded, brushing the dirt off his pant legs. “But it’s a start, ain’t it?” He grinned, but it fell as he noticed Medic’s scowl. The doctor was silent, and just shook his head. He did NOT think this was a good idea.
Scout shrugged. "If Medic don't think it's that good of an idea, I don't either. Looks pretty damn risky. Just how fast can we go crawlin' on the floor like that?"
“Who says we hafta go fast?” Sniper crossed his arms. “We can properly pace ourselves like that, and we’ll have all the time in the world, because th’infected won’t give a damn ‘bout us!” Seeing the Medic and Scout’s disapproval, he turned to Heavy. “What d’you think, big guy?”
Heavy frowned and shook his head. "I cannot do. Am not so good at... er... crawling."
“Well…maybe some of us could crawl, and find a car, or a truck or something!” Sniper tried. “And then come back for the others! It’s…sort of a plan, ain’t it?”
Scout grinned. "And what's the problem with our old plan of kickin' ass and takin' names, huh?"
“Look at us, Scout. Look at our group.” He gestured, specifically, to Spy. “Y’really think we can stick with that sort of plan with so many of us in this sort of state?”
"Well then we'll kick ass until we find a car and THEN drive it back to save everyone! None of this sneakin' shit." A pout as the boy crossed his arms. "And don't even bother asking Solly what he thinks because he'll probably agree with me, so there." He smirked.
“We’ll just see.” Sniper frowned. He didn’t like how the kid wasn’t on his side this time. Didn’t feel good. “OI! SOLDIER. WHERE ARE YA?” He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out.
"OI! SOLLY!" He tried again.
"Oh, right!" Scout gasped. "He was missin', too! Anyone see where he went?"
Everyone shook their heads.
Medic sighed. “Alright. Ve spread out und search for him. Sniper, zhe roof, Scout zhe grocery and appliance sections, Heavy, take Spy and search zhe back rooms, and I vill take zhe rest of zhe pharmacy. Jawohl?”
Nodding. Sniper and Medic both strode off with their long legs to their respective searching zones. Scout sprinted off, feet as quick as his temper. Spy, however, oblivious of the whole exchange, just sat there, staring at the saferoom door.
Heavy nudged Spy a little. "Hello? Spy? We must find Soldier, da? Are you hurting?"
“…No.” Spy decided, finally, and shook his head. “We are finding Soldier? Where is ‘e?” He asked, reaching out to the other man, to help him stand.
Heavy lifted him up, providing ample support. Well, physically, at least. "We do not know yet. But we are to search back rooms. You are coming, yes?"
“Don’t really ‘ave much of a choice, do I.” He deadpanned, letting the other man all but carry him to the back rooms.
"You want to rest in bed?"
“I…suppose.” He sighed. He didn’t want to sleep, but he really felt like just laying down and thinking for a bit.
Heavy nodded and carried Spy back to the ‘medical bay’. Where Spy just stared up at the ceiling, already deeply lost in thought.
Chapter 20: Psychosis
Medic finds Soldier. It isn't pretty.
Note: I'm not a mental health expert, which is probably obvious in this. I rewrote some of the dialogue slightly to (hopefully) more accurately portray what a mental breakdown might look like, but at the end of the day, my outlook is a bit limited.
It was Medic who found Soldier first. He was sitting, hunched over in a corner with a paper bag pulled over his head. The man's form trembled slightly. He was also naked, his clothes strewn all over the floor.
Medic approached him, cautiously. “Soldier?” He asked, gently.
Soldier hunched over even more, as if he were trying to disappear from the very earth.
The doctor came a bit closer, crouching near the floor. “Soldier. Vhat is wrong? Are you hurt?”
"I... don't know..." His voice sounded distant, almost as if it was coming from another room all together.
“Can you take zhe paper bag off of your head, bitte?” Medic asked, also gently, slowly moving towards Soldier.
"No." There was something in his voice, then. Fear, maybe.
Soldier was silent for a long time. "I don't know what's left of me."
Now Medic was concerned. “Soldier. Please, take off the bag. I am asking you as a doctor -- I need to ensure that you are alright.”
"No, no, no. No." Soldier clutched it tighter.
“Soldier.” He ordered, sternly, taking the other man by the shoulders. “Just lift up the bag, let me see zhat you are alright, and zhen you can put it back down. I promise.”
"I'm not a real person,” he babbled. “You can't."
“Soldier, tell me vhat’s wrong. Tell me vhat happened.” He gripped more tightly at the man’s shoulders, shaking him slightly.
"The world’s falling apart. I'm nothing anymore. I don't have anything to... To..." He didn't finish his sentence. It was pretty obvious he didn't know how.
Medic sighed. “Soldier, I am going to just peek under your bag. I need to make sure zhat you haff not hurt yourself. Okay?”
A whimper from the once-proud American.
“Hold still, bitte.” With gentle hands, Medic slowly lifted the bag up enough to see Soldier’s face.
There were long, thin welts and some scratches all over his face, as if he'd been clawing at it, but no serious harm. His eyes were closed and there was a large bruise on the center of his forehead. He also had several bite marks on his hands and arms.
Medic shook his head sadly. “Vhat happened, Soldier? Vhy vould you do zhis to yourself?”
"I… needed to feel something. Anything..." Soldier’s eyes seemed to wander aimlessly. "It’s like… I’m floating in space. I don’t know where I am..." His breath seemed to shorten.
“Calm down. Come vith me.” Medic held out his hand. “I vill take you out back. Perhaps you need some rest.”
"No. No. I... I should be here. I should stay here so that..." He rocked slightly. "So that I'll know where I am when I come back... I'll get lost if you take me."
“You vill not get lost. You vill be in zhe back room, vhere you’ve been for a vhile, remember?” Medic soothed, stroking the man’s upper arm with one hand. “I promise, I vill not lose you.”
"No, no, no, no, no..." The man shook his head and rocked back and forth, clutching it tighter to his head. "Go away. This body right now is just… Just a shell. My spirit is wandering around and if you move the body, I’ll be lost forever. You’ll kill me."
“Soldier. Soldier.” Medic tried to snap him out of this. He took hold of his hand, and held it tightly. “Please. It is for your safety. It von’t kill you, I promise. I can keep a better eye on you back zhere. Please, Soldier, please.”
"I have to come back first. Then I can go." Soldier insisted as he chewed at the heel of his palm.
“Come back from vhere, Soldier?” Medic’s nerves were starting to get frayed now.
Medic sighed again, and tried a different approach. “You know…Spy left zhe saferoom. He tried to leave, at least. Ve hauled him back, but…he got hurt. Don’t you vant to go see him? Make sure he’s alright?”
Soldier paused. A hushed, "No."
"Because he doesn’t care if I live or die. And neither do I."
An exasperated sigh. “Soldier, if you do not come vith me now, I vill drag you back zhere.”
Soldier whimpered with fear. "You'll kill me. I'll never know where I am if I'm not here when I get back."
Medic stormed off, still watching Soldier from the corner of his eye. “HEAVYYY!” He called out as he ran.
"You have found him?" Heavy called back. Soldier didn't move, apparently unaware of what was going on.
“I need your help!” He shouted over the shelf of nail polish. “He’s in…some sort of catatonic state! He von’t go anyvhere! Hurry!”
Heavy rushed over, concerned for his ally.
Medic met him as he rounded the corner of the aisle. “Down zhere.” He pointed. “Be careful, zhough. He’s already hurt himself.”
Heavy stared. "He is... naked?"
A sigh. “Ja. I know. Just…get him, please.”
Heavy nodded and grabbed the man. Soldier started, but didn't move otherwise. When Heavy began moving him, he gasped, as if in pain.
"Why are you doing this?" Soldier whimpered. "You'll kill me. You'll kill me...! Don’t take me back, I’m begging--"
Medic, meanwhile, moved back to the infirmary area. Spy was laying on his half of the two tables, just staring off into space. Medic took the other table, moved it away, and began preparing the leather straps they’d need to hold Soldier down.
Some ancient part of Soldier’s brain recognized the Frenchman’s reclined form. "No, no, no, no, no, no..." he whimpered, still trying to squirm out of Heavy's grasp.
“Put him down here, bitte.” Medic instructed, once Heavy had managed to get him in the room.
Soldier was placed gingerly on the table, whimpering quietly. "Why are you doing this...? Why is this happening? I hate it..."
“Shh…shh…” Medic soothed, attaching the straps to Soldier’s arms and legs. “Just keep calm, Soldier. Ve haff to do zhis, to make sure you don’t hurt yourself anymore. Do you understand?”
"I don't have a soul anymore," Soldier stated, as if it were a perfectly appropriate response.
“Shh…” He soothed again, readying a syringe. “Of course you do. Now just relax.” Medic pushed the needle into Soldier’s arm.
"No, no, no, I... I..." Soldier struggled for a few moments longer and then drifted off.
Heavy shook his head. "Have never seen man so disturbed. Well, once, but he was killed by mad dog soon."
Medic threw the syringe in the appropriate receptacle, and leaned on the desk, sighing. He was silent for a moment, and then turned back to the two on the tables. Spy was still staring off into space, muttering quietly in French under his breath.
“Zhe vorst cases of shell shock I haff seen in a long time. And vhat a time to deal vith it.” He sighed, sitting down on his stool, and rubbing his temples. "Zhis is not good. He’s completely disassociated..."
Heavy patted his shoulder. "Maybe we should put him out of his misery... Is not fair to him."
Medic looked up at the two men on the tables. “…vhich vone are you referring to?”
Confusion from the lumbering Russian. "Soldier, yes? Spy is..." He trailed off. "... Better...?" Probably.
“For now, yes, but how long until he is as bad as zhat?” He gestured towards Soldier, and sighed. “I am not a psychiatrist. I…I cannot help zhem. I don’t know vhat to do.”
Heavy sighed. Physical wounds could be healed easily, but this... This was different.
He went over to Spy. "Hello... Please talk to me."
“…qu'appartiennent le règne, la puissance et la gloire-“ Spy stopped, in mid-sentence, to look over at Heavy. “Pardon?”
Heavy smiled, relieved. "Is good to talk to you... Soldier is... very upset... I wondered if... you can fix?"
Spy looked away for a moment, and then back to Heavy. “ ‘e is angry wizh me. ‘e won’t want to speak to me.”
"Angry?" Surprise. "How could this be...?"
“I ‘urt myself earlier, and ‘e was angry at me for it.” Spy explained. “…and I said somezhing zhat I probably shouldn’t ‘ave.”
"Can... un-say it?" Heavy asked, translating it awkwardly. "Soldier is... very simple man..." He lowered his voice. "He would not think of it again."
Spy shook his head. “Angry is angry. ‘e won’t want to see me. Not after what a… connard I was.”
Heavy nodded, respecting his wishes. "You are okay?" He risked a hug for the slender man.
Spy let him, but didn’t hug back. He just let his head flop to the side. Then, he saw. “…Soldier? Wh-what ‘appened to ‘im? Why is ‘e…?”
"Naked...?" Heavy offered, embarrassed. "I do not know."
“Tied down.” Spy finished.
“It is for his own good.” Medic explained. “He vas hurting himself.”
“WHAT?!” Spy sprang up, heedless of his own injuries, and was at Soldier’s side in an instant. “Soldier! Soldier wake up, you idiot! Pourquoi as-tu fait ca! Pourquoi?!”
"He is... drugged, Spy. Is no use." Heavy patted the man's back. "Try again when he awakes."
Spy swatted at the larger man, and turned instantly back to Soldier, shaking him and shouting in French. “Réveille-toi! Réveille-toi! Pourquoi?! Pourquoi...?”He trailed off, sobbing, and sank to the floor. He knew it was all his fault that the other man was like this.
Medic crossed to him. “Heavy.” He gestured towards Spy, indicating for the other man to pick him up.
Heavy attempted to lift the man. "Spy... Spy... Is okay... We can fix, da?"
“C’est ma faute, c’est toute ma faute…” he babbled on, dead weight in Heavy’s arms. “C’est toujours ma faute…”
Heavy glanced at Medic, defeated. "Spy, do you... Do you want to share the bed with Soldier?" He felt that some human contact would do some both some good. And they might be able to make up during the night.
Still sobbing, he merely nodded. He’d grown accustomed to having the larger man’s arms around him as he slept. He couldn’t imagine sleeping without it now, honestly.
Medic looked displeased with this, but with Heavy’s help, he moved the two tables together again, so Spy could sleep next to Soldier, and have room. “Fess…” He sighed, walking slowly out of the room, in search of the Scout. He needed some stress relief.
Heavy sighed and rubbed Spy's back. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" He asked softly.
“Nonnnn…” He whined, curling up against the restrained Soldier.
Under the paper bag, Spy could see some of the damage Soldier had caused himself. Spy pulled the paper bag off, and traced the injuries, gingerly, tears still in his eyes. With his other hand, he pulled off his balaclava, and threw it to the floor, immediately hiding his face in the crook of Soldier’s neck.
Heavy respectfully looked away, sighing.
After several minutes of crying like this, Spy fell asleep, practically on top of Soldier, ignoring the fact that the other man was completely naked.
Heavy covered the two up with a blanket and began eating a bowl of mac and cheese Medic had prepared earlier.
Elsewhere, Scout smiled, jabbing Sniper in the ribs. "So what do you do for fun now that I'm not here all the time to make your life a million times better, huh?" he asked, grinning crookedly.
Sniper grinned back. “I revel in the silence.”
"Yeah right. More like revel in your hand, Camper." Scout grinned, tapping the brim of his hat up casually. There was a short pause, and the kid soon added, "Ya know... I really miss buggin' ya." A fond smile this time.
Sniper smiled back, but looked away, and it slowly fell. “Really…hurt me t’day, y’did, when y’wouldn’t take my side.”
A blink. "What...?" Scout pouted. "C'mon, man... We disagree about stuff all the time! And you know I'm more of a kick-ass person, anyways. Not a sneaky one like you or French Fry. You're still my..." He trailed off. "... Best... friend," he finished awkwardly.
Sniper smiled gently. “... Aye?”
"Yeah. And..." A sniffle, and the boy hugged him tightly. "My fuckin' Pops, man." It was the first time Scout had openly admitted how he looked up to Sniper like a dad instead of just a mentor.
Sniper felt his eyes go a little watery, but he looked away to hide this, and just wrapped his arm around Scout. “You’re…you’re a good kid, Peter. Real good.” He sniffed hard, and wiped his eyes with one finger.
Scout held Sniper tightly for a little longer, then straightened up, giving a tiny, embarrassed smile. "Yeah... You are, too, Vince..." An awkward pause. "So, uh... You ain't gonna tell anyone I cried, are ya?"
“Maybe.” He grinned down at him, and chuckled.
Scout punched him playfully on the arm, then sat quietly with the man, enjoying the sunset.
“Scoutchen?” A sheepish voice interrupted their little moment, and approached them, clearly stressed. “May I…see you?”
"Er... Sure, Doc." Scout gave Sniper another smile and a clap on the back, then hopped down to walk with the elderly doctor. "Somethin' wrong? You found Soldier, right?"
“Ja, ve…ve did.” He sighed as he slowly made his way down the stairs. “He is in a…very poor mental state, zhough. It…it is a problem.”
"Aw, shit... Guess we shoulda known when he wasn't attached to Spy, huh?"
“Ja.” He nodded. “And I dreading haffing to deal vith zhis…situation.” He rubbed at his temples. “I vas vondering if you vould be villing to provide some sort of…stress relief?”
"I think I can..." Scout grinned again
Chapter 21: Heat (Explicit)
Scout gives Medic a physical release of his tension.
“Want another handjob?” Scout purred, nuzzling Medic gently. “Ya seemed to like it last time…”
“Nein.” He tossed a bottle of lubricant he’d stowed in his coat pocket. “You said you had done it before, ja?”
Scout gave a delighted squeal. "FUCK YEAH, I HAVE!" he cried. "But, uh... But, wait. We don't got any condoms, do we?" He trusted Medic - especially after the search given in the shower, but he still preferred to wear a condom because... He tried to keep his vehicle away from head-on collisions on the Hershey Highway.
“Vell…” Medic looked around, and then tossed one at Scout. “I managed to save vone box. Ve use zhem sparingly. Understood?”
"Yeah, I do. Maybe we'll come across more later or somethin'."
He chuckled, and put his arm around Scout’s shoulders. “Perhaps. Now, shall ve?” he gestured to the bedroom.
Scout grinned and nodded, leading the way.
Once inside, there was much less of that teasing pretense from their previous times. Medic quickly stripped to the waist, and laid out on the bed, waiting for Scout.
Scout stalked on top of the man, loving the feeling of power and safety he felt during these incredibly intimate moments. He kissed Medic deeply, pressing their bodies together.
Medic moaned, softly, into the young man’s mouth, wrapping his arms around his still-clothed body, yanking at the fabric of the shirt. He wanted it off.
"Alright, alright...." Scout chuckled, complying.
Grinning, Medic ran his hands over the warm flesh along Scout’s spine, slamming his lips against Scout’s again.
It was then that Scout realized just how badly Medic needed this. The heat was on.
Medic’s nails dug into the boy’s tender flesh, and the insistent bulge in his pants pressed up against him. Bring it.
Scout broke the kiss and stuck his fingers into Medic's mouth, sucking on the man's neck as he did.
The older man moaned around the digits, and, worried that he’d use mere spit as lubricant, he nudged the bottle from earlier into Scout’s other hand, to remind him. Just in case.
Oh yeah. Scout smiled sheepishly, but was hesitant to let Medic know that had been his intent, and snaked his hand down to the man's cock.
Through the fabric of his pants, Medic’s erection throbbed in the boy’s hand. He groaned, bucking his hips upward, desperate for more.
Scout rubbed the thing against Medic's abdomen as he'd done before, still sucking on the man's neck and grinding his stiffening erection against the man's hip.
Medic shucked his pants off the rest of the way, and tugged at Scout’s pants, encouraging him to do the same. He sighed, and moaned softly at the boy’s warm, skilled hands, working his hard member.
Scout wriggled out of his pants, making sure to keep constant contact with the man's member, now massaging his balls as well. He looked around for any spare rubber gloves for when he started actually fingering the man.
Medic had some, but they were in the infirmary. That matter was far from his mind now. He gasped suddenly, and his balls tightened as his seed splashed across his abdomen and Scout’s hand. Even older men could lose it once in a while.
Scout laughed. "Awww, damn it! I over-did it, huh?" He smeared some of the cum over Medic's hand so that he could rub it in, himself. He was a little more comfortable with the idea now.
He laughed back, cheeks red both from embarrassment, and from the sex. Tenderly, but faster than last time, he began rubbing the seed into Scout’s abdomen, tickling his ribs a little as his fingers danced across them.
Scout laughed a bit. "Feeling any better yet?"
“Mmm… A little.” He smiled, smearing the last of the cum into the boy’s stomach. “But I still vant mehr…” He cupped the boy’s balls underneath his hard shaft, and began to rub them, gently.
A moan. Scout spread his legs for the man to grant him full access.
Sucking at the boy’s neck, he began to fondle his package, spurring him on to greater arousal. With his other hand, he slipped the lubricant into Scout’s hand again.
Scout paused. "Uh, is it alright if I grab some rubber gloves, man?" Embarrassment.
“Hmm? Oh, ja, ja. Zhey’re across zhe hall, in zhe infirmary.” He smiled, laying back down onto the mattress. “Hurry. I vill be vaiting.” He spread his legs, showing off his cock and toned thighs.
Scout flushed and dashed off. Bare-ass nekkid.
Heavy looked up from his book when Scout ran in the room. Poker face.
Scout blinked, then huffed and held up his head. "Sorry, big boy. This item's not on the menu." He confidently strutted to the countertop where the gloves were, snatched them, and then scampered off.
Heavy watched him go, and shrugged after a moment, turning back to his book.
"Got 'em!" Scout panted, rushing back in. "Now, where were we...."
Medic was on the mattress where Scout had left him, stroking his softening cock. It would be a while before he could get it up again, but he didn’t need to for what was about to happen. “You vere going to fuck me, Scoutchen.” He purred, taking his hand off his cock, and spreading his thighs.
"Oh, you bet I was... Er--am." Scout quickly snapped on the glove, and got his fingers all nice and lubed up.
Medic chuckled, and rolled onto his stomach, leaving his ass up in the air, his legs still spread out before Scout.
"Oh, man, that’s beautiful..." Scout gasped, rubbing his cock along the back of the man’s thigh. His gloved, lubed finger traced the inside of the man's crack.
“Mmm…” He moaned, softly, “Do it, Scoutchen, yes…”
"Oh, you bet, Doc..." Scout chuckled, slowly circling the man's tight hole. One finger squirmed in, and the boy sighed, cock throbbing against the older man.
Medic cried out in pleasure, and balled up his fist against the mattress, his hole tightening around Scout’s finger.
"Fuck, man, I don't even know what to do wit' ya, yer so damn horny..." Scout chuckled, leaning forward and nibbling Medic's ear.
“Mmm…” He moaned again, breaths quickening, “Fuck me…” he suggested.
"Hold on, hold on..." Scout chuckled starting to slide in his second finger.
“Oh… Fuck me…” He cried out again, feeling the stabs of pain along with pleasure this time. “Scout…” He moaned, reaching back to grab at the boy’s free hand, so he could hold it.
Scout leaned back on his knees and joined hands with the man, working to stretch him out. "You gotta dirty mouth today, Doc..."
There was no response, save for the man’s heavy breathing, and clenching and relaxing of his hands, as Scout’s fingers moved inside of him, causing pain one minute, and pleasure the next.
"You think this is enough prep or what?" Scout huffed, anxious to be sheathed inside of him.
Medic wanted to say yes, but he knew it had been a while since last he’d been penetrated, so he replied, “A little more, bitte. Vone more finger.” It didn’t help that he was still a little apprehensive about being taken in this way after so long.
"Sure thing." A comforting kiss.
“Danke, liebling.” He sighed, still holding onto the boy’s other hand. Against the mattress, he could feel himself starting to get hard from all of this.
A little more stretching, then Snout gingerly pressed another finger inside. "Liebling? What's that mean?" he huffed.
A groan at the penetration, followed by a shudder of pleasure. “It is a…” He panted, adjusting to the thicker intrusion. “A term of endearment. Like my darling, my sveet. Zhat sort of zhing.”
"Aw, I'm yer darlin', now?" Scout jeered playfully, easing his fingers in and out.
Medic chuckled, and moaned when Scout began fucking him with his hand. “You alvays vere…” He smiled into the mattress, moving up onto his knees a little, to give his burgeoning erection more room to grow.
Scout gave another tender kiss, then grinned when he saw the erection. "Fuck yeah--I get a toy to play with, too!"
The doctor sighed, and began moving against Scout’s fingers, in the rhythm of sex. He moaned with every thrust of the boy’s fingers. He was definitely ready.
Scout took off the glove, applied his condom, and got comfortable behind the Medic. Slowly, he entered the man from behind, grunting softly.
Medic cried out in pain and pleasure as Scout’s cock breached the tight ring of muscle, but the way that his hips thrust back against Scout’s, it was obvious that there was more of the latter than the former.
"Awww... fuck... You're tighter 'n..." Scout grunted. "A cap on a bottle of fuckin' ketchup -- fuck..."
Medic looked over his shoulder at Scout, and laughed. Possibly the worst dirty talk he’d ever heard. He leaned up more, and kissed the boy’s cheek as best he could from the angle, taking hold of one of his hands again.
Scout smiled sheepishly in return, and continued thrusting his hips forward, building a slow, steady rhythm.
No matter how badly Medic ever needed to be fucked, he still liked it slow. This was heaven for him. Well…almost. Eager to really enjoy this, he led Scout’s hand down to his now-fully-hard member.
"Oh, right..." Scout chuckled, pumping the man with on hand. "That's gonna be three times in a few hours! You're like a Superman when it comes ta fucking..." he purred, stroking it gingerly.
“Oh gott! Ja! Ja!” He cried out in pleasure, falling back into his native tongue again. “Oh gott…mein liebling, ja!” Medic panted, his hips bucking both against Scout’s penetration, and into his warm little hand.
Scout whined, wanting to go a little faster, but her knew how Medic was. He decided to stroke against the man's prostate as agonizingly slow as he could.
Medic moaned, high, and long, every time the young man’s cock pressed against that sensitive place inside him. Fully beyond any words at this point, he was reduced to gasps and moans, voicing how wondering this felt.
Scout came first inside of the man, but kept thrusting, groaning and crying Medic's name as he shuddered against his form.
Medic groaned, clenching around Scout’s cock, trying to get more stimulation, but he knew it was too late. Defeated, and unsatisfied, he let his head rest on the mattress, his cock still hard and throbbing in Scout’s hand.
Scout kept thrusting as best as he could in the man's body, whimpering. The extra stimulation kept him moderately hard, and he pumped Medic's cock as best as he could.
“It’s no good, Scout. Stop.” He whispered, stilling the other boy’s hand. It just wasn’t enough to make him cum.
"I... I can finger ya again! C'mon, just a little more, Doc," Scout pleaded.
Medic sighed, then relented. “Okay. Okay, try.” He nodded, raising his head from the mattress.
Scout pulled out, quickly snapped on a glove and lubed his fingers, then began pumping the man's cock and stroking his prostate again.
The older man moaned and gasped, and thrashed about in obvious pleasure, but it wasn’t enough. “Vait, vait. On my back.” He ordered, turning around to lay down more comfortably.
Scout nodded. "What do you want me to do? Keep going?" He rubbed the man's cock gingerly, circling the head with his thumb.
“Ja, ja, bitte!” Medic cried out, arching into the hand, “Keep going!”
Scout quickly inserted his fingers again, and began stroking that little pleasure point repeatedly, rubbing the man's cock.
Medic cried out, his body trembling with pleasure. “S-Scout! Ich…ich…” His jaw dropped in a silent scream as he reached that wonderful precipice.
Scout sighed in relief, slowing his ministrations, but not stopping as a few more droplets of the milky white substance dripped out. Medic was really spent. An exhausted smile. "Stress free yet?"
A few pants were his only answer for a while, then an exhausted “Ja…” and a nod of the head. “Danke, mein liebling…” He whispered, sleepily, too tired to even perform his usual cum-smearing ritual.
Scout raised his fingers and smeared it into his skin with the man's hands as best as he could. This was better than licking it up, he thought. Medic really was quite bitter and salty.
Medic watched the boy do the work for him, utterly entranced. Once he’d gotten it all, he gave him a fond smile, and opened his arms for him to join him on the bed.
Scout snuggled into his arms with a soft sigh, and the two fell asleep together.
“Gute nacht, mein liebling…” Medic whispered, kissing the boy’s soft hair before he fell asleep.
Chapter 22: The Deadline
After things take a turn for the worst with Spy's condition, Heavy decides to give Medic an ultimatum.
It was well into the night before Soldier woke up again. He shivered, scared, dejected, and naked, with his limbs strapped down against his will. He stared up at the ceiling, with tears dripping down his eyes. He didn't know what was going to become of him.
For a while, he was unaware of the other man’s weight, settled on his chest, face buried in the crook of his neck. Spy stirred a little, when Soldier shivered, and unconsciously wrapped his arms around him a little tighter, trying to warm him.
Soldier felt pretty removed from existence, but still couldn't help his curiosity. He tried his best to get a good look at the person or thing beside him.
When he shifted, Spy whined a little in his sleep, shifting himself. “Tiens-toi tranquille…” he mumbled, sleepily. “Je dors encore…”
Soldier felt like he knew the voice, once. "Who are you...?" he asked softly, almost fearfully.
“Hein?” he mumbled again, into Soldier’s neck, eyes still closed in sleep.
"Leave me alone..." Soldier began trembling more. The more he thought about this strange person - this strange voice - the more his chest ached. He didn't like it. This person was bad. This person had hurt him once. Had killed him. He didn't want them to be close to him. They'd kill him again.
“Tais toi…” he mumbled again, turning his head in the other direction, his scarred cheek facing up. “J’essaie dormir…”
Terror. "NO, GET AWAY!" Soldier cried, struggling suddenly against his restraints. "Get away!!! You won't kill me again! Get away!!!"
“Hein?” Spy raised his head, and sat up, blinking the sleep out of his bleary eyes. “Qu’est-ce qui s’ passe? Vas-tu bien?”
Soldier looked at him with pure panic, still trying to struggle away. "Don't kill me, don't kill me, please..."
"Leave me alone..."
“Te tuais? Quoi?” Spy looked down at him, confused. “Pourquoi tu penses que je ferais ca, Soldier? Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?”
"Spy," Heavy cut in softly. "You are speaking different language. It may be what is scaring Soldier."
“Quoi?” He turned to look at Heavy. “Je…je parle dans une autre langue?” He seemed genuinely shocked, and touched at his lips, confused why they were working against him. “Je…pourquoi…?”
Heavy just blinked. A tiny whimper came from the bed, and the man shook his head. "Speak English, Spy. You are scaring him," Heavy repeated.
“Mais je crus que j’etais…” He pulled at his lips, trying to coax them into proper working order. “Je ne peut pas!” He looked over at Heavy, frightened. “Je ne peut pas parle Anglais! Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas avec moi?”
Soldier finally lost it, and just began screaming as loudly as he could, as if it could save him. Heavy cursed, and began rummaging around for more sedative. The entire horde would be ripping the place apart in minutes if he kept it up.
Spy jumped off the table, and backed away from him, hitting the wall. Medic ran in, half-dressed, swore, and quickly found the sedative Heavy had been looking for. He took it out, readied it quickly, and plunged it into Soldier’s arm.
Heavy huffed. "S... Sorry.. I thought I could handle him..."
Soldier moaned softly, and looked around with his eyes half-lidded, but for some reason, he was straining to stay awake. He couldn't last any more than a few minutes at the most, though.
Still trembling, Spy walked forward, as he peered down at Soldier quickly losing his consciousness.
Medic looked up at the two. “Vhat happened?”
"Spy will not stop speaking French!" Heavy cried, motioning angrily to the man. "It is scaring Soldier, but he would not stop!" A huff. "I thought he would help Soldier, but things are probably worse now..."
Soldier looked up at Spy as if he were a knife-wielding maniac in a dark alley. And a stranger.
“Soldier…” he sniffled, looking down at him, and seeing the fear in his eyes, he backed away. He sat down on the stool in the corner, and buried his head in his hands, trembling. “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas avec moi?” He moaned, softly, mournfully.
Medic looked over at Spy, and then back to Heavy. “Vhat is wrong vit him?”
"I do not know." He looked back down at Soldier. "But I am losing hope for Soldier."
Medic sighed, and looked back over to Spy. “Spy, stand up.”
Spy sniffled, looked up at him, and complied.
“Vhat did you do?”
“Quoi? Je-je ne fai-“
“…Je ne peut pas.”
Medic frowned, and turned back to Heavy. “Vhy is he only speaking in French?”
"BECAUSE HE WANTS ME TO PUNCH HIM!" Heavy snapped, glaring holes into the man.
Spy recoiled, against the wall. Medic held out his hand, to stop Heavy. “Spy. Can you speak English?”
A shake of the head.
“Je ne sais pas!” He shrugged, growing desperate.
Medic frowned at this, perplexed.
Heavy rolled his eyes. "Spy, stop playing tricks. Whatever you did to Soldier was very mean, and you should say sorry IN ENGLISH."
“JE NE PEUT PAS!” He yelled, exasperated.
Medic held out his hands. “Gentlemen, calm yourselves.” He turned back to Spy. “Spy, can you understand vhat ve are saying?”
“Yet you cannot speak in zhe same language?”
“Oui, je sais qu’il n’a pas du sense, mais-“
Medic interrupted him, holding out his hand, and he merely nodded instead. “Curious.” He replied, pacing, his thumb under his chin.
Heavy marched out, steaming. He needed to cool off. Sniper was right -- they probably should have left the two men there. He'd hoped that with care and rest, they would recover and help contribute, but there was nothing useful about having two basket cases that required constant supervision and medical supplies - of which, there were already dwindling supplies. He would have to talk to Sniper again.
Medic meanwhile, sat Spy down, and began examining him, trying to figure out what was wrong.
Sniper was still up on the roof, looking at the stars, when Heavy came up. “Hey, mate. How’s it goin’?”
"Not good," Heavy rumbled, sitting across from the man. "I am regretting bringing Spy with us. Soldier is now hurting himself and screaming and naked because of him, and he keeps on scaring Soldier, and..." Frustration. "They are not getting better! Not even little teensy little bit!"
“Waitwait, what?” Sniper raised an eyebrow. “The fuck’s this about Solly naked and screaming?”
"Wish I knew. He is... Crazy."
“And wot’s wrong with Spy, now, then?”
"He will not stop speaking French, and it scares Soldier!"
“Why won’t he stop speaking French?” Sniper pulled out a cigarette, popped one in his mouth, and offered the carton to Heavy.
"I don't know..." Heavy sighed, taking it and lighting up. "I think he says he cannot stop, but still is in French! I think it is trick."
“ ‘m sure it ain’t, mate.” Sniper puffed away on his own cig. “Spy don’t seem like the type to do somethin’ like that. Somethin’ must be wrong with ‘im.”
"Hmmm...." Heavy shrugged. "So we have two with brain problem and are hurting badly. We cannot continue and still have them. We need more safety than tiny building."
“Wot about Solly’s plan for a boat?” He asked, and pointed out to the horizon. “Can just make out the coast with th’scope. It’d take some doin’, but we could get there.”
"We could. But we need them to get better or on way to get better before, yes? Physical wounds can heal, but they are both... Beyond help!"
Sniper was silent for a minute. “Wot d’you wanna do, then?”
Heavy looked away for a moment, then sighed. "Is... hard for me to say... But... I do not think they will get better. If there is no progress in three days, I think we should..."
"... Yes," Heavy murmured softly.
Sniper sighed, but nodded. “Three days, then.”
A nod. "I... I am sorry. For before. You were always right."
Sniper shook his head, not fond of this decision they’d made. He stood, and flicked his cigarette to the ground. “We talk to the doc, first, alroight? See wot he thinks.”
A pause, then a nod from Heavy.
“Alright, then.” Sniper nodded. “ ‘m headin’ off to bed. I’ll chat with him in the morning.”
A nod. "I will go to bed, too. Let's tell Medic three days from tomorrow. Goodbye." The big man made his exit.
“Night.” He nodded, and closed the door, tightly, behind him as he left the roof.
Night fell and the sun rose again, peeking in the slits between the 2 by 4’s across the windows. Medic had stayed in the infirmary, sleeping on a chair, while Spy had curled up in a corner with a blanket thrown over him. Soldier, still rather drugged, slumbered on, strapped down to the table.
There was a gentle knocking at the door. Heavy peaked inside, motioning to Medic. "Doctor. Come here. We must talk." Sniper stood beside him, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.
Medic stirred, and got up, following them into the hallway. “Vhat is it?” He grumbled, still tired.
"First, I must ask. How are things with Spy and Soldier?" Heavy pressed.
“Zhe Soldier is still drugged, but zhe Spy…I zhink I haff some sort of diagnosis for ‘is problem.” He crossed his arms, flicking the sleep from the corner of his eye.
"What is it?"
“Some sort of stress-related language disorder.” He explained. “Not unlike aphasia, but zhere seems to be no physical trauma to his brain. It is…difficult to deal vit. Zhere is no telling vhen ‘is symptoms vill go avay.”
A sigh. "This, I was afraid of." A pause. "I was speaking with Sniper, and... We think there might not be reason to continue trying to save them."
Medic looked over at the sharpshooter, stymied, and back to Heavy. “Vhat, exactly, are you saying?”
"That... we should... possibly... give up on them." Heavy didn't want to say it - not so blatantly.
Medic frowned. “You mean let zhem go vizhout treatment?”
"... No. Not... what I was thinking of." Heavy looked up at Sniper, frowning.
Sniper sighed. “Heavy thinks we should kill ‘im, mate. Put ‘em out of their misery.”
Medic merely stood there, shocked.
Heavy nodded. "I didn't want to. Still do not. But this cannot continue. They are no better than when we came here - WORSE! And we have already used so much medicine on them!" A sigh. "I wanted to believe they would get better, but there is no use in trying if they will only be burden to everyone."
Medic frowned, and shook his head. “I vill not let you kill zhem. I cannot, not vhen even vone of zhem is already showing signs of improvement.”
"One of them?" Heavy blinked, surprised.
“Yes. Zhe Spy.” He frowned, and opened the door. “Come vit me if you don’t believe it.”
Heavy followed behind the man curiously.
Medic walked, quietly, past the snoozing Spy, and over to a notepad on the desk. “Here.” He whispered, handing it over to Heavy. “Vhen verbal communication proved fruitless, I had Spy try to write vhat he meant. Perfect English, all zhey way zhrough.”
"Well... is something, I guess..." Heavy muttered, looking it over, then handing it to Sniper. "If their bodies heal and their minds get better for three days, there will be no need for.... that. Yes?"
“You expect zhem to be healed in zhree days?” Medic frowned, taking back the notepad after Sniper had looked it over. “Or just if ve see no improvement in zhree days?”
"Improvement. Spy kept moving and getting hurt, and Soldier would do the same to help him. That is wasting. We might need healing, too, but would have used it all on them."
“And if you get hurt, are ve not supposed to help, because somevone might need zhose supplies later?” Medic scowled, ushering the two out of his office. “If you ah hungry, should ve save all zhe food for later, vhen ozhers are hungry?”
"I would not eat, then vomit so I do not feel so sleepy." Heavy returned the scowl with one of his own. "I would not be healed, then get up and ruin all progress, and waste more supplies!"
A soft click, as the door behind them opened, and closed. Spy stood there, sleep still in the corner of his eyes, holding his little notepad and a pen. For the first time, Sniper saw the swastika scar on his face, and swore under his breath, at the sight of it.
Sheepishly, Spy stepped forward, wrote something on the pad, and then showed it to Heavy.
It read: “I am sorry. I promise to be quiet, and not move, and not eat, and not use anymore supplies.
I never meant to cause harm to anyone.”
"..." Heavy sighed, then rubbed his eyes. "You... You can eat, Spy. Just, please. Get rest. Try not to ruin your body after we try to heal you. Yes?" he pleaded, handing the notepad over.
Spy scribbled, and then handed it back over. “I promise.”
"Good. Is all I can ask." He seemed relieved. "But... Spy. What if Soldier does not recover? What then?" He didn't want to kill Soldier. Never had. But if Spy had been too far gone in his mind, before, Soldier was out of the solar system.
Spy looked down at the floor. “Je ne sais pas.” He shook his head, and then wrote “I don’t know” on the paper. He took it back, and scribbled again. “But please do not kill him. I know he can get better. Give him this chance.”
Heavy frowned and looked up at Sniper with puppy dog eyes. God damn it, it was so HARD staying mad at people!
Sniper sighed, and then looked at Spy. “Three days. If there’s no change, or if he gets worse… It’s gotta be done, Spy.” He added, seeing the fallen expression on the Frenchman’s face. “ ‘m sorry.”
Spy nodded, looking down at the floor again. “Oui, je sais. Mais encore je ne l’aime pas.”
"Maybe things will get better..." Heavy murmured regretfully. "Maybe...."
Sorry for the brief pause in updates. TBH I'm starting to hate this thing, silly as it is to say. This is probably my least favorite section of the RP. The constant back and forths in the pharmacy with Soldier and Spy's drama hanging over everyone like a dead bird tied around their necks.
Eventually things get moving again, and things start getting interesting. The drama with Soldier and Spy never really goes away, but there are more pressing concerns and they're not just stuck inside a reasonably safe stronghold with nothing to do or talk about other than these two's shenanigans. God, if this is our attempt at The Walking Dead, this would be the season where they're at that dude's farm and basically nothing ever happens. I hope you guys are enjoying it regardless, haha.
Chapter 23: Spirits
Heavy spends some quality time with Spy to try to get to the bottom of Soldier's mysterious breakdown. This leads to Spy questioning the purity of Soldier's intentions.
The four were silent for a while, all seeming to be in deep contemplation. The scritch-scratch of Spy’s pen broke the silence, and he handed the note to Heavy. “I haven’t eaten in days. Can we please fix this?”
"Yes. We can. I will take you, yes?" Heavy reached out slowly to take the man in his arms.
“S’il te plait.” Spy nodded, reaching back to him, still rather weak from the lack of food, and blood, and all the stress he’d endured.
Heavy lifted him easily and took him to the kitchen to get something to eat.
The ‘kitchen’, of course, was not a real kitchen. Merely an aisle in the appliances section with a microwave, a hotplate, and various cooking utensils. It suited them well enough. Spy had never seen it before, though. Merely been told about it. “Hou la.” He praised. “C’est… il n’est pas le pire cuisine que j’avais vu.” He chuckled, looking around at what they might have to eat.
"Da. Is very nice, I agree." Heavy began cooking some mac and cheese again, but couldn't find any hot dogs, so he left it out.
Spy smiled, from the floor, gnawing on a granola bar while he waited for it to cook. Suddenly, something occurred to him. Quickly, he wrote on the paper. “Did I speak in English a moment ago?”
"Er... I do not think so..."
“Alors, comment est-ce que tu m’as compris?” Spy asked. “Parles-tu francais?”
"I assumed what you say... I do not speak French, if you are asking now," Heavy replied, utterly unsure.
Spy frowned, and crossed his arms, mindful of the wound still on his abdomen. “Tu dis la vérité?” Clearly, he didn’t believe it.
Heavy blinked. "... What did you say?"
Spy frowned, but waved it off with a “Ne t'inquiète pas.” He turned his eyes back to the food. “C’est presque prêt?”
Heavy blinked. "¿Qué?" Hey, he knows Spanish now! Not really. "What?"
Spy looked up, and wrote on the paper. “It is almost ready?”
"Oh. Yes, almost. Hold on."
Spy nodded, and sat quietly, arms folded in his lap, as he watched the food cook.
When it was done, Heavy handed Spy a few spoonfuls in a nifty, plastic bowl. He gave the man a spoon and smiled. "Eat well, my friend."
“Merci beaucoup.” He smiled back, gratefully accepting it, and quickly downing the entire bowl.
Heavy was gobbling down his own serving by this point. "More?" he asked with a smile.
Spy looked like he was about to say yes, but he looked in the pot, at what little was left, and shook his head, staring sadly at the floor. “Non, merci.” He’d already wasted enough supplies. He didn’t need to waste food, too. Besides, he’d gone hungry before. It wasn’t so bad when you got used to it.
Heavy smiled. "Here. Little more, then you may rest. I want you to have much energy for healing." He spooned the last little bit into Spy's bowl. "Eat what you can."
Scritch, scratch went the pen again. “I don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want to waste food, like I’ve wasted medical supplies, and everyone’s time.” It read, when he handed it over to Heavy.
Heavy sighed when he read it. "Spy, I... I did not mean it like that when I said it. I... I thought..." A pause. "I thought you weren't TRYING to get better. It felt like we were the only ones. I do not mind using supplies on you. As long as there is no more wasting. Understand?"
He nodded, but still held the full bowl out for Heavy, along with another note. “I don’t deserve it.”
Heavy glared at the man. "Eat it, Spy."
Spy shook his head. He wrote out another note. “I am the reason for Soldier’s illness. It is all my fault. I should be punished, not fed.”
"Would be pointless to take care of you AND punish you. I want you to be better most of all. We will deal with what happened to Soldier later."
Spy sighed, and stared up at the ceiling. He looked back down to the macaroni, and, after much deliberation, began to eat it too.
Heavy smiled, satisfied, and began cleaning up after himself as best as he could.
While he was cleaning, the Frenchman passed him another note. “How are we set for water? I could really use a shower if we have it to spare.”
"We have water for cleaning, but..." Discomfort. "I am not sure if... we would like it if I had to help you with that."
Spy merely wrote a question mark on the paper, and looked at Heavy, confused.
Heavy looked highly uncomfortable. "We would both have to get undressed, Spy. You cannot clean on your own yet."
He looked at the floor, sadly. He knew the burly Russian was right. Another scribble. “You can just put me in there and leave me. Even just some water running over me will help. I don’t need to scrub or anything.” He looked up at the Russian, pleading.
Heavy sighed, and nodded. "Yes, yes, okay. But if you need help, you tell me. Okay?"
Spy nodded back, with a relieved smile, and held his arms out for the burly man to help him up.
Heavy did so, quite easily, and carried Spy to the "showers", where he helped him stripped down to his underwear, turned on the shower about a third of the full power, and left to respect the man's privacy. "Ten minutes," he murmured. "If you need more, yell and I will come."
“Merci.” He smiled at the man, gratefully, from the floor. Once Heavy left, he stripped his underwear off, and scooted back into the shower. Immediately, he shrieked from how cold it was, swearing loudly in French as he fought the shivers that wracked his thin frame.
"Everything is okay, Spy?" Heavy called from outside.
“O-o-oui!” He called out, teeth chattering already. He wrapped his arms around himself, still shivering, and tried to get used to the freezing water rushing over him, slowly washing away the grime that had built up on his skin.
Heavy muttered quietly to himself and went to fetch a towel-warmer he'd seen somewhere in the store. He knew Spy would need it.
With his uninjured hand, Spy began to scrub gently around his wounds. He didn’t want anything nasty getting in them, and making him sicker. For a moment, he froze, seeing the red running down the drain, but quickly realized it was just the dried blood caked on his stomach. When Medic had washed he and Soldier earlier, Spy wasn’t able to stand it for more than a minute, so most of him had gone uncleaned. Now, though he was sure he’d get pneumonia, and possibly have his genitalia shrink away entirely, it still felt good to get clean.
A few minutes passed. Heavy knocked on the door gingerly. "Spy? Do you need more time?" he asked.
“N-n-non!” He called out, quickly slipping out of the shower, and slipping back into his underwear, for Heavy’s sake more than his own.
"Good. I am coming in now."
The door cracked open, and Heavy stepped in, carrying a large towel. He wrapped it around Spy, and almost immediately the man felt soothed and comforted with blissful warmth.
“M-merci.” He sighed, drying himself off as best he could, still shivering on the floor. “Est-ce que Soldier a revé déjà?” He asked, running the towel through his dripping hair.
"...... Uh... Soldier? Is he better? I do not know. He still sleeps, I think..."
“D’accord.” He finished drying himself off, and scooted across the floor, to get his clothes, and begin re-dressing.
Heavy was silent a while. "I see now that you did not hurt Soldier on purpose. But still, what happened? I never would think that something could ever make Soldier so..."
Spy went to explain it, but paused, and looked around. “Ou est mon bloc?” He asked, miming the action of writing.
"Oh. Yes. Hold on. I will take you out of cold place." Heavy picked the man up and carried him to the sleeping quarters.
Spy had a sad look on his face when he realized he wasn’t going back to the infirmary where Soldier was, but to the common sleeping area, where everyone else slept. Still, he didn’t protest -- not that anyone could understand him if he did.
"Okay." Heavy placed the spy gingerly on his own, push bed, and handed him the little notebook. "Tell me what you cam. I know that Soldier is... strange.
Spy nodded, and began to write on his pad of paper. Once finished, he handed it over.
“Yesterday, Soldier told me that he considers us like twins, or each other’s halves, or something. When I asked him about it, he said it’s because he thinks we are alike, in our stubbornness, and in how we care more for each other.
When I told him that we didn’t have the last thing in common, he left, and he was different. I know I should not have said what I said, but it was the truth. I feel awful about it, and what happened because of it, but it was the truth.”
Heavy was surprised by this. "Soldier considered you two lovers?" he asked, incredulous. Still it made sense.
Scribble scribble. “I really don’t know. It sounds that way, doesn’t it. I don’t know where it comes from, though. I never expressed any interest in him in that way. Not once!”
Heavy sighed and shook his head. "So it is true. He is crazy. Was crazy whole time. Just less crazy. You did right thing, Spy, telling truth to Soldier. Would not have been fair to you to withstand something like his attention."
Spy sighed, and looked down at the floor. Suddenly realizing something, he drew his limbs in close to himself. Scribbling again. “I worry, now. All the times that he slept behind me…” The note trailed off, unsure of how to finish.
Heavy gasped. "You... Think he would... He would rape you, Spy?" Horror in the man's eyes.
Spy’s hand came up to rub at his forehead, stealthily wiping away tears that threatened to form. He wrote again, “I don’t know. Do you think he would?”
"You know him better than I. What do you think?"
Thoughts of Soldier's reaction to Spy's story of the abusive American Soldiers came trickling back. Spy merely blinked back the tears that encroached on his vision again, and underlined his earlier ‘I don’t know’. He was genuinely worried, and it showed on his face. Could Soldier really have…done that to him?
Heavy didn't know what to say, so he just shuddered.
The Frenchman stared at the floor, then frowned, and stood up, leaning against the wall. Slowly, he began making his way back towards the infirmary.
Heavy was by his side quickly, to help support him.
Spy didn’t acknowledge the help this time. He just hobbled along, too focused on his mission.
The two entered the infirmary. Medic turned, and asked what they needed, but Spy ignored him, and limped over to Soldier’s table.
Soldier was awake again, but sobbing quietly, his arms and legs still strapped down to the table.
Spy stared down at him, close to sobbing, himself. “Est-ce que tu m’as violé?” He spat.
Soldier feebly looked up at - no, through - the man before him. Fear and confusion. "I... I can't..."
Spy frowned, and scribbled on his pad, then held it out in front of Soldier’s face. “DID YOU RAPE ME”
Soldier stared blankly at the paper, as if unsure what words were.
"Did you rape Spy?" Heavy asked softly.
Spy let the pad drop, and just stood there, wet eyes staring down at Soldier.
Soldier looked as completely helpless as he felt in that moment. “Why... would I ever hurt someone... innocent... Someone who... relied on me… I wanted to... save him... and... have a purpose… Wait, no... not save…” A moment as he struggled to form his thoughts. "... Re...Repent..."
Spy wiped his eyes, and looked down at the other man, confused. “Repent for what?” he wrote. Heavy read it aloud for him.
"For... what they did. I was... an American once... I... I knew that if it... had happened once, it had... happened again. To many of people. People we were... we were supposed to... to save... I thought that... maybe if I... if I helped this one person who had been hurt by us... That... I wouldn't have to... hear them..."
“Hear who?” He wrote. Again, Heavy read it for him.
"Their... souls. I hear them. They hate me for what I did... who I was... America had let them down... And I was a part of her… They wanted me to die..." He mumbled some more illogical things under his breath, eyes seeming unfocused.
Shocked, Spy looked over at Medic, who looked equally as shocked. He walked over to the group, at the table, and put his hand on Soldier’s shoulder. “Soldier…haff you ever been treated for any sort of…mental problems?”
More mumbling. Soldier’s eyes fluttered closed.
“SOLDIER!” Spy cried out, trying to wake him, still angry, and desperate for a real answer.
Soldier's weary eyes opened once more.
Spy just looked down at him. There were a million things he wanted to say, and it frustrated him to no end that he couldn’t. Finally, he scribbled a note, and handed it off to Heavy. “Are you hungry?”
"No... Just... tired. I don't have a reason to live anymore. It's better if... the spirits just... took me."
“Stop that.” He wrote again, letting Heavy peer over his shoulder, and read as he wrote. “You can’t leave us. We need you. You’re the man with the plan, after all. None of us have any idea what to do without you. Please, stay. Snap out of this.”
There was an angry ringing in Soldier's ears. He winced, and shut his eyes again. "No, no, no..." he mumbled softly. "I can't...... I don't know how..."
“Si, tu sais!” Spy spat, desperate for the other man to come back into himself, no matter what he might have done to him. He just felt so guilty that he was the cause of all this. “Cesse de faire la tête!” He took him by the shoulders. “Nous t’avons besoin!” He shook him, lightly. “Je t’ai besoin!”
Soldier paused. His eyes cracked open. "Why are you so... upset that I'll be... leaving? You said it yourself... I... You don't care... about me... So... Why should I care... about me...?"
Spy scribbled down on his notepad again, and held it up for Soldier to read. “I’ve never cared about myself. Not really. It didn’t stop you from caring about me, did it?”
Soldier tried to make it out. "So, I... You..."
Spy just sighed, and looked down at the floor. Again, he wrote. “I haven’t cared about anyone, or anything in a long time. The fact that I’m worried about you at all should mean something.”
Soldier's eyes teared up slightly. "That's... That's all I... really wanted... to hear..." A pause. "Can I... Somebody... Let me go now...?"
Medic warily undid the restraints, poised to snap and grab the sedative, should he need it.
"I'm tired... I still really want to sleep..." Soldier murmured quietly, curling up into a more comfortable sleeping position. "But I... have a reason to... wake up, now..." A weak smile.
Spy smiled back, stumbling back into Heavy’s grasp. He was tired, too.
"Is it okay that Spy can be with Soldier again?" the man asked softly to Medic.
Medic shook his head, and whispered, “Considering zhe allegations you two brought forzh, I vould not recommend it.”
Spy seemed to care less. He bent over the table, and laid his head down on Soldier’s chest, still half-standing.
Heavy nodded, and gently tugged Spy away. "Come, now. We rest, Spy."
The Frenchman nodded, and hung limply in Heavy’s arms as he tried to walk. Soon, the burly Russian ended up carrying him entirely.
Soldier immediately fell into a deep, restless sleep.
Medic stood by, watching, syringe at the ready.
Heavy laid Spy down, and the Frenchman seemed to be asleep almost instantly. A moment later, though, a yellow piece of paper, was handed over his shoulder, to Heavy.
“Can you hold me while I sleep?” it read. Spy wouldn’t look at him. His face was red with embarrassment.
"...... No," Heavy replied, as respectfully as he could manage. A man had his limits, after all.
Silence again, then another note. “I’m sorry.” Spy curled up, arms wrapped around himself, and tried to sleep.
Chapter 24: Red and Pink
Scout tries to put an earlier theory to the test on a solo mission. Meanwhile, Medic extracts a useful confession from Soldier.
Scout had to fucking admit. This was a lot damn harder than he'd expected it to be. He scooted across the cement, elbows and knees getting scraped up to kingdom come, and his muscles aching in places he didn't even know existed. He'd quietly nudge aside any infected that stumbled to close, but had a pistol handy, just in case. He'd spray-painted it black so that the reflection wouldn't startle one of the infected and give him off.
He'd peeked into any car he'd come across, but most didn't have a key handy. Fuck. Looked like he wouldn't be coming back a hero, after all. He did, however, find a case of pop tarts and fruit roll-ups. That made it all worth it in the end, he supposed.
It was then that Scout heard a noise he hadn't come across before. It was a soft squealing, almost like a baby pig or something, but raspier and more wheezy. Then, there was a noise similar to someone hocking up a loogie, and suddenly, Scout was covered in an acid patch of terrible and pain.
The infected around him didn't seem to be concerned by it, but it was almost too much for the kid. Biting his tongue, he scrambled out of the mess on all fours before it could cause any serious damage, and made a beeline straight for the safehouse. Time was up - he was done for the night. His quick movements caught the attention of several zombies around him, and soon they began closing in to investigate.
Suddenly, there was a loud shot from the safehouse. Scout gasped, and ducked and surprise, for one second thinking it had been meant for him. Between the bars on the window of the saferoom door, he saw Medic waving frantically, trying to get his attention. “Come on, come on!” the man hissed to himself, hand ready to open the door as soon as Scout was close enough. Sniper was up on the second floor, frowning with worry with an eye glued to a scope.
Then, suddenly, along, slimy tongue wrapped around Scout's face, and he was yanked back. That was it. The kid panicked and turned around and began shooting wildly in all directions. This immediately caught the attention of the horde and soon Scout was surrounded. Panicked, he began swinging with his bat, even as the tongue continued dragging him back as if on a leash.
“SCOUT! NO!” Sniper screamed. Immediately he rushed downstairs to join Medic, who had already rushed out, shooting at the horde, trying to get to the young runner.
He couldn't breathe. Oh God, he couldn't breathe. He heard screams and hands were grabbing at him, and even as he swung his bat, he could feel so many more. Another strong pull from the tongue, and he fell back completely, struggling vainly as the infected fell upon him like one entity, punching and kicking at him.
Sniper burst from the safehouse, and immediately threw a pipe bomb in the air, sending it at least a hundred feet away from the horde. He hacked at the few who didn’t follow it with his kukri, and Medic continued to shoot, aiming for the Smoker that had Scout by the neck. Eventually, Sniper wrestled his way in, and sliced the thing’s tongue, quickly scooping Scout up into his arms, and carrying him back to the safehouse.
Scout was shaken up, but mostly unharmed thanks to Sniper's quick thinking. His teeth chattered with fear as he held onto the older man tightly. He could have died. For some reason, that was... surprising for him.
The marksman ran through the pharmacy, towards the bathroom, with Scout still in his arms. Medic secured the door behind them, and quickly followed. Together, they washed the traces of the unidentified creature’s acid off of the young boy, soothing and comforting him with every pass of their washcloths. Sniper wouldn’t let go of him the entire time. Medic couldn't believe this had been the second occurrence. Were those things just the norm nowadays...?"
Eventually, Scout showed signs of coming back to himself. "J...Jeez... That was a close one, huh?" he asked, cracking a weak smile.
The two older men were silent. Medic frowned, worried, and kept scrubbing at the boy’s legs. Sniper just wrapped his shaking arms around Scout, tightly, as if he’d never let him go. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you little ankle biter, y’hear me?”
"Sorry... I... I was just getting tired of... of sitting here and waiting... for what happened before to... happen again..." Scout murmured quietly. "I just wanted to help us get out of here..."
“Und ve understand zhat, Scoutchen.” Medic took his hand, gently. “But you cannot go out zhere vizhout some sort of plan, and certainly not all by yourself.”
“If Medic hadn’t spotted you sneaking out there, where would you be now, huh?” Sniper’s voice broke, and he wouldn’t lift his head from behind the boy’s collarbone. “You’d be fuckin’ dead, and it’d be all my fault for not keeping an eye on your stupid lil’ arse, now wouldn’t it?!”
Scout looked down. "I felt bad because I hadn't even given Snipes' plan a chance before... I just wanted to surprise you guys, is all! Like, yanno, 'Hey, Scout saves the day again!' or whatever..." Embarrassment. "Okay, yeah, that was... That was stupid..."
Sniper merely held onto him, still shaking, still trying to hide how much he was crying. Damn. They’d almost lost the kid. And he’d blame himself forever if that happened.
“Yes, it vas, Scout.” Medic stroked his face with the washcloth. There was no more of that strange acid left, but it was a comforting gesture nonetheless. “Und you’re not going to do it again, right?” He looked at him, sternly, but clearly concerned.
Scout looked away with a sigh. "No, I won't, alright...? Jeez..." He wiped nervously at his eyes.
“Good. Now come. Let’s take you back to bed.” Medic stood, and held his hand out for the boy.
Sniper let go of him, though not without hesitation. “I’ll…I’ll be along in a minute.” He choked out, standing, and walking over to the sink. “Just gotta…wash m’hands.” He started up the stream of water, and stuck his hands underneath. The flowing water would cover up the sound of him crying.
Scout blinked, looking after Sniper. "Uh... H... Hold on a sec, alright, Doc?" he asked softly, nuzzling the man. A weak smile. "Gotta check up on Snipes...”
“Scout. I zhink he vould like some time alone.” Medic whispered, his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Sniper didn’t turn from his place at the sink. He just stood there, shoulders hunched, hands still and unmoving under the freezing water.
Scout watched a moment longer, then sighed and nodded, allowing himself to be led off by the doctor.
As soon as they were out of earshot, he muttered, "I didn't mean to make him cry..."
“I know, Scout. I know.” Medic nodded, his arm wrapped around the boy’s shoulder, protectively. “Come. You should rest.”
He held the door open for the runner. Inside, Spy and Heavy were still tucked away in their corner.
Spy was sleeping fitfully, but Heavy was awake. "I heard noises. What happened? Are you okay, Scout?"
“He vill be fine.” Medic replied, leading the boy over to his mattress. “He just needs to rest. How is Spy?”
"Er... I am... not sure. Sleeping mostly." A helpless shrug.
“Vell…good, I suppose. Ve all need some rest.” Medic nodded, standing up after tucking Scout in. “I am going to check on Soldier, and zhen patrol zhe perimeter for a bit. Sleep well, mein Kumpel.”
"Goodbye, Doktor. Much luck with Soldier."
“Danke.” He nodded. “Hopefully I do not need it.” He closed the door behind him, and made his way into the infirmary, across the hall.
Soldier was awake when Medic entered. He looked up at the man cautiously, as if he expected the medic to attack him. His eyes were much more focused than before, though.
“Hello Soldier.” Medic greeted, softly. “How are you feeling?”
"I'm... not sure... Where am I? Where is... he?"
“He who, Soldier?” Medic asked, pulling up a chair.
"... Him." Soldier struggled to think, rubbing his temples. "S… Spy...?"
“He is in zhe ozher room, sleeping.” Medic replied. “As you should be.”
"I can't. I hear them again. They're angry and won't leave me alone." The man wrung his hands together. "I need him... They're not as loud when he's there... He needs me, too."
Medic pursed his lips. “Soldier, have you ever touched zhe Spy inappropriately?”
"You mean his... Dick?" Soldier just seemed confused.
Medic frowned. “Yes, or any ozher areas he did not give you permission to touch.”
"Well, no..." A pause. "Well... I touched under his mask once...I thought maybe if I did, it would heal up and he would be better."
“You zhought touching him vould heal him, somehow?” Medic leaned forward, looking every inch a psychiatrist now. “Vhat made you zhink zhis?”
"I... felt I could... an energy... I really thought I could help him."
Again, Medic pursed his lips, and tried to bring the line of questioning back where he could get proper answers. “Soldier, haff you ever become aroused by touching Spy?”
“Vhat did you do about it?”
"Ignored it. There was nowhere I could beat one off without everybody starin' at me, anyways. Where's all this coming from, doc?" A defensive, warning tone.
Medic paused. “Soldier…are you in love vizh Spy?”
".... Love...?" Soldier blinked, the question obviously taking him by complete surprise.
“Yes. Love.” Medic confirmed. “Are you?”
"I... I don't know... He's a man!" Soldier cried.
“Do you consider yourself a homosexual, Soldier?” Medic kept asking, as casual as ever.
"No, I'm not!" Soldier cried, panicked. "I'm not! Quit asking me shit like this, ya damn fucking Sauerkraut!"
Medic remained cool as a cucumber. “Calm yourself, Soldier. You are in no danger, here. Zhere is no judgement being passed on you, I svear.” He shifted his chair a little closer. “If you are not a homosexual, zhen vhat vhas it about touching Spy zhat aroused you?”
"I... I don't know..." Soldier whimpered. "It was an accident. We kept sleeping together, and one time I popped a stiffy, and I took a piss and went back to bed and everything was fine. I'm NOT gay."
“Are you attracted to Spy?”
"No! I mean..." He squirmed. "I... I guess... He's pretty small and... French, which makes him kind of like a woman, I guess, b-but he's still a man, and I would never... would never..."
Horror as he realized his body was betraying him - his arousal was showing through the sheets. He tried to cover it up.
Medic saw it, but ignored it for the time being. He wasn’t surprised. “Have you ever had any homosexual experiences or fantasies, Soldier? Even in your youth?”
"No, no, no, no, no, fuck, no... Leave me alone." Soldier curled in on himself and covered his face with his pillow, trembling.
“Soldier.” Medic gently put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I am only trying to help. If you are, in fact, a homosexual, and you repress zhis part of yourself, it can only lead to furzher mental anguish. You don’t vant zhat, do you?”
"No, no, no, no, no, no... If I am, he'll... He'll never want me around... I'll be like them. The guys who hurt him. How could he trust me...? I didn't want this. I just wanted to help..." Suddenly, he shoved Medic away in a spontaneous rage. "LEAVE ME ALONE -- THIS IS YOUR FUCKING FAULT! I told you I'm NOT, damn it! There's NOTHING wrong with me!"
Medic stumbled back, but caught himself on the chair. “Zhere is nozhing wrong vit being homosexual, Soldier. Many of zhe men in zhis safehouse are, in fact, zhat vay inclined.” He stood up, proudly. “Myself included.” He frowned. “Vhat do you zhink? Do you believe zhere is somezhing wrong vit me?”
Soldier looked up at him, horrified, not breathing, not moving. A tiny gasp for air. Then another. And another. Suddenly, he felt lightheaded. He fell on the bed, chest tight with anxiety, throat clenching, heart pounding, ears ringing, world stopping.
“Soldier!” He rushed over, checking the man’s pulse. “Soldier! Can you hear me? Breathe! BREATHE!”
Everything echoed distantly. No, no... Don't touch me... I can't be... not one of them... Please, I... stop... please... Soldier's heartbeat was wild and erratic, and his breathing short and fast. He flopped uselessly, eyes wide with panic.
Cursing in German, Medic dashed over to the drawer of sedatives he kept at the ready. He grabbed a milder one, and, quick as lightning, he plunged it into Soldier’s arm.
Whimpering. Soldier’s heartbeat slowed, but his breathing was still a tad erratic. He tried to squirm away from Medic, terrified.
“Bitte…calm down, Soldier.” Medic tried to soothe him. “You are in no danger here. Please, try to relax. Take deep breaths.” He breathed deeply, hoping that Soldier would mimic him.
Soldier did so, eyes filled with tears.
Medic wiped them away with a tissue. “That’s it. Very good. Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Soldier.” He continued to soothe, holding onto the other man’s shoulders to ground him.
Tiny sobbing. Soldier closed his eyes. He continued breathing, but he didn't want to. Not anymore.
“Alright. Alright, just rest, Soldier. Sleep.” Medic whispered, slowly coming down from his own mini panic attack. “Just sleep. Ve can deal vit zhis in zhe morning.”
Soldier nodded, and closed his eyes, sleeping fitfully.
Medic slumped into the chair, and watched him sleep for a bit, before dozing off himself. Gott in himmel this was going to be rough.
So I guess it's worth mentioning that I actually intended for Soldier's affection for Spy to be purely platonic and nearly brotherly. But I gave up on that around this chapter because I was starting to no longer give a fuck, and romantic love is just easier to default to in story telling because it's what the media shoves down our throats all the time anyway. If I could go back, I probably would have stopped myself from just going with the easiest option because good lord are Soldier and Spy clearly no good for each other, but I was locked in, now. Regrets, I have a few. But I guess that's natural for an RP that's around 8 years old.
Chapter 25: Devotion
Soldier tries to prove, in the most extreme way possible, that he means Spy no harm, despite his homosexuality.
A few hours later, Medic awoke to the sound of Soldier stirring around on his bed. The man was weakly trying to get up.
“Nein nein nein, Soldier.” He quickly strode forward and placed his hand on his arm. “Try not to move. You need your rest.”
It was then that he noticed Soldier's hand was slightly smeared in blood. Soldier quickly tried to hide it.
"I thought you were asleep," Soldier murmured softly.
“I am a light sleeper.” He frowned, taking the hand. “Vhat did you to yourself now?” He wiped it off, and began inspecting Soldier for any wounds.
It was quite obvious what it was in just a few seconds. Soldier had clawed at his own genitals, in an attempt to mutilate - maybe even remove them. Shame showed plainly on the man's face. "Please don't tie me down again..." he whispered. "I don't like it..."
“Und I don’t like you hurting yourself.” Medic sighed as he tied the man down anyway. “Vhen I feel that you are going to behave, and not do zhis sort of zhing, I vill release you.” He began bandaging and treating the wounds as best he could, shaking his head all the while.
Soldier let him, biting back tears. "I... I just wanted to prove to him that... That he doesn't have to be afraid of me... That I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt him, ever... I'd cut the damn thing off that was what it would take... I never wanted to be this way..."
Medic sighed, and finished his work, covering Soldier up with a blanket. He sat back in the chair, and just looked at Soldier for a while, thinking. “Ve really need to talk about zhis, Soldier.”
"No..." came the tiny whimper. "No..." A pause. "N...Not without him... Go get him. Wherever he is. I won't say anything else unless he's here t... to help me."
Medic stood, and crossed him arms. “I vill go get him, but I varn you, Soldier. You can talk to him, but he cannot talk to you. Not in English, at least. Zhis upset you before. Is it going to again?”
"Will you still be there to... to say everything for him?"
“I vill.” Medic confirmed with a nod.
"Then I'll be okay."
Medic turned on his heel, and headed for the sleeping area. Heavy was up again by now and was doing a crossword puzzle with the help of everyone.
"Seven lettered word for hen? Duh - chicken, dude," Scout called out, his head resting in Sniper’s lap.
Heavy scratched his chin, counting the letters in his mind. "Oh, da. You are right..."
Spy, of course, couldn’t shout out responses like the rest, but he held his pad up for Sniper to read, and the Aussie did it for him.
The four looked up at Medic as he entered.
The German’s face was awfully grim. “Spy, I need you to come to zhe infirmary.”
Worry flashed across the Frenchman’s face.
Heavy was cautious. "Is everything okay? ... Safe, I mean."
“Yes.” Medic nodded and went to help Spy stand. The thinner man put most, if not all of his weight on him. “Soldier simply has some things to say to Spy, zhat’s all.”
Heavy wasn't convinced, but let them go.
Sniper looked back down at the crossword. “Six letter word for knitting implement. ‘s gotta be a needle, mate. Right here.” He pointed to the spot.
Soldier felt like a trapped animal. He didn't like being strapped down to the table. He would rather be dead then like this.
The door opened, and in walked Medic, half-dragging Spy behind him. He plopped the Frenchman down in the chair, gently, and gave him back his pen and paper.
“Vell.” He turned to Soldier. “Anyzhing you vould like to say, to begin?”
"Th... That I'm sorry for... trying to take care of you when you d...didn't need my help. Or want it..." A sigh. “And... that I'm sorry, because I've been outed as a homosexual. But I promise I n...never did anything to you. I would never do that. I would rather cut my own dick off, or my hands, than hurt you with them."
Spy frowned, sadly, and wrote on the paper. Medic read it for him. “Please don’t hurt yourself again.”
"I had to prove to you that I wasn't lying. But I won't... if you don't want me to."
“I don’t.” Read another note. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself ever again. Okay?”
A sigh. "Okay..."
He wanted to hide. Why had he brought Spy here, again? He didn't like the concern the other man was looking at him with...
“Sehr gut. Vell zhen, shall ve get started?” Medic smiled at the two, softly, as he pulled up another chair. “Soldier, did I hear you correctly? You identify yourself as a homosexual now?”
"There's no other explanation for it now, is there...?" he asked softly, clearly wracked with guilt and shame.
“How do you feel about zhis discovery?” Medic asked, still very gentle.
Soldier held back tears. "Because I let Spy down. I... I feel terrible, and dirty and..."
“How did you let me down?” Spy wrote, and Medic read.
"I'm just as bad as the men you told me about. That's why you thought I hurt you, isn't it? Why I… raped you. Now you'll never be able to trust me like you did before all this damn homo shit..."
“1. You are nothing like the men who hurt me. Not even close.
2. I only worried that you might have done something to me, because you seemed to think we were a couple or something, and I never meant to give you that impression.
I’m sorry if I led you on. I never meant to.”
Soldier furrowed his brow in confusion. "But… I never said we were a couple. Just that we were connected. What are the chances that we'd be in that same park at the same time, huh? If I'd gone through a day earlier, like I would have if there wasn't a pile-up blocking my way and I had to go around, we would have never met. Hell, if I was just a few HOURS early, or a few hours late... Well, we'd both be dead. Doesn’t that strike you as funny?"
Spy looked shocked, and looked down at the floor, ashamed. He scribbled, more messily this time. “I’m so sorry. I misinterpreted what you meant, and it just… This is all my fault. I am so, so, so sorry.” Spy hiccuped, on the verge of tears.
"Don't cry..." Soldier whispered, wanting nothing more than to hug his ‘other half’. He looked up pleadingly at Medic. "Please, let me go... I promise, I won't hurt myself anymore, and especially not with you two here..."
Medic sighed, and, against his better judgement, undid the restraints.
Soldier murmured his thanks and reached out for a hug.
Spy was wary, but scooted the chair forward, and reached back. If felt right hugging the bigger man again, even though Soldier's muscle had atrophied even further, and he was a lot colder than he was when he'd held Spy during the nights in the cellar.
After a minute, the position became strained, and Spy had to move, to accommodate the pain in his back. His knees buckled, though, and he fell to the floor, still clinging to the other man.
Soldier cried out, trying to hold onto the man. "Medic! Maybe we can get a chair over here?" Soldier wanted Spy to be close, but not at his own expense.
Medic moved forward, and helped Spy back into the chair, separating him from Soldier. He checked him over, and once satisfied that he was alright, stepped back.
We're almost to the end of the Pharmacy arc, thank all the gods in heaven. We still have the chapter after this awkward break (it was too big for one chapter but this was the best I could do to split it), two meaningless pwps, a possible bonus chapter, assuming I don't attach it to the end of the next one, and then things finally get rolling again I can't wait! My personal favorite character (besides, perhaps, Scout) is right around the corner!
Chapter 26: Come Clean
Medic prods Soldier into admitting his innermost feelings about Spy.
Silence enveloped the room for a moment.
Medic cleared his throat. “Soldier, I feel, perhaps, zhat you should tell Spy everyzhing. About touching him under his mask, and whatever else you vish to share.”
"I touched you under the mask once," Soldier blurted awkwardly. "I thought that... Somehow, it would help heal you..."
Spy looked confused, but Medic stopped him before he could begin writing. “Und about zhe time you became aroused.”
Spy’s face dropped, back to that terrified shock from before.
"I... I got an erection one night when we were sleeping together..." Soldier curled up, pulled the blankets around him. "But I didn't do anything. I promise."
That terror didn’t disappear from Spy’s face, but he tried to hide it.
“Und how you feel Spy looks like a voman,” Medic prodded once more, adjusting his spectacles.
“COMMENT?!” Spy’s jaw dropped, and he looked at Soldier, offended.
"HEY, NOW, I DIDN'T SAY THAT EXACTLY!!!" Soldier cried at the scientist. "Just... kind of... more like a woman than most men... You're French, Spy. I can't really defend ya on that one."
Spy just stared at him, with the epitome of a ‘WHAT THE FUCK’ expression on his face. He scribbled, again.
“So because I am French, that makes me a woman? WHAT?! My country practically invented sexual intercourse for god’s sakes! We’re reputed to be the most masculine, charming men on the planet!” He threw the note at Soldier, still rather offended.
"Did I say you were a woman? No. I said you were less masculine than me. You wanna argue that, too, Frenchie?" Soldier sighed. "You're a lot... thinner and... you have kinda... kinda softish skin..." Flushing. "But I still like... that you're still pretty masculine, too. I mean... I really like your nose and the cut of your... uh... cheekbones."
Soldier felt really silly just saying this. "MEDIC, CAN YOU PLEASE STOP SAYING THINGS FROM BEFORE, PLEASE!"
“I vill stop vhen you admit everyzhing to Spy freely, wizhout being prompted.” He replied, crossing his arms.
Spy, embarrassed by Soldier’s statements, turned his red cheeks towards the floor.
"God damn it, I hardly remember half of the shit I say some of the time!" Soldier cried. "What do you want from me?! How about you ask me some REAL questions instead of saying, ‘Hey, you remember this one thing you said forever ago?’ How about that, huh?" A defensive snarl.
“Fine.” Medic pulled his chair up. “Tell Spy how you feel about him. Honestly.” Spy looked up, his face still red.
"I.... I think he's... He's goodness - innocence - in the flesh. And that I'm bound by destiny to protect him and succeed where my comrades failed. That's all I really wanted. I didn't want a relationship - hell, I didn't even know I was attracted to him! I... I just want to make sure he's safe. It's my destiny."
“Und vhy do you believe zhat?” Medic asked, pacing the room.
"Because destiny brought us together at a time he needed me most."
“Haff you ever considered it might just be coincidence?”
"Yeah. But it's not."
“Vhy not?” Medic pressed insistantly.
"Because I know!" Soldier cried, clearly frustrated.
“Calm yourself, Soldier.” Medic sighed, patting his shoulder.
Over in his chair, Spy was scribbling away. He handed the pad over for Soldier to see.
“Innocence in the flesh? Where on earth do you get that from? You are aware of what I’ve done to earn a living, and that I’ve essentially been doing that my whole life, yes?”
"Would you have done that if... it wasn't for us?" Soldier asked quietly. "You don't strike me as the type of guy who would get into this just for kicks."
More scribbling. “I started working on the streets before I’d even fully become a man. Things just progressed from there. Selling my information led to selling my body, and led back to selling my information, which led to selling my services in dispatching those who proved a threat to my clients.
I am anything but innocent.”
"No... No, no, no, no, no, no...." Soldier clutched the blankets around his head, closing his eyes. He began shutting down. "You're a good person, Spy... A good person... I trust you..."
“Arrêtais cela!” Spy cried out, pulling the blankets back. “Tu est plus fort que ceci! Comment est-ce que tu t’attends que je survivrai quand tu est ravalé a ceci!” He spat, whacking Soldier on the chest with the back of his hands.
Soldier looked up at him in pure fear. "M...Medic...?" he called weakly, obviously straining to keep from freaking out.
“Ja, Soldier. I am here.” Medic declared, not moving any closer. He hovered near the drawer with the sedatives, just in case. He didn’t like where this was going.
"I... I'm getting there..." Wherever 'there' was, it didn't sound good.
He looked up at Spy with pleading blue eyes. "Please don't yell at me, Spy. Usually I could deal with it, but... I need to get grounded first..."
Spy calmed, and sighed. “Je crie seulement parce que tu…” He trailed off. “Comment puis-je t’aider?” He held onto Soldier’s wrist.
Soldier looked at him, confusion clouding his eyes, but love also in his gaze. "What was that, Spy?"
Spy looked down at him and grunted in frustration. Annoyed, he scribbled on the paper again. “How can I help you?”
"Oh..." Soldier thought. “I just.... I don't know what to think... I can't... handle a lot of new stuff at once... Especially now... I told you... I need you as much as... I thought you needed me.” He shook his head, frustrated at the thick veils of fog that consumed his thoughts. “I just... need something solid to hold onto... To believe in... You're that thing now…”
Another sigh, and Spy wrote down, “Then I will try to be there for you, like you were there for me.”
"Thank you... I know you didn't ask for it... And I'm sorry. But thank you."
“I’m sorry too.” Spy wrote, smiling sadly down at Soldier.
"... There's something wrong with me, isn't there...?" Soldier murmured quietly.
Spy frowned. “Je ne sais pas.” He replied. “Mais si tu as quelque chose qui ne va pas, j’en ai aussi.” He pointed at himself.
Soldier just blinked and nodded. It sounded encouraging, at least.
He turned to Medic. "... Hey, uh... I... I'm feeling really weak..."
“As-tu faim?” Spy asked, gesturing to his stomach.
A nod. "Yeah... Famished. Right."
“Medic?” Spy looked up, and the other man nodded and left to get some food.
Feeling rather weak himself, Spy sat back in his chair.
"You don't want to... lay down...?" Soldier asked, blushing slightly.
Spy looked up, and blushed, still nervous. “Non…je fais bien, merci.” He dismissed, looking back down at the floor.
"Oh..." The man looked down. "Okay... Sorry."
Spy looked up again, and bit his lip. “…tu…t’en veut?” He asked, sheepishly pointing to Soldier.
"I'd like it if you came with me.... only if it's okay with you." The man flushed deeply with a tiny smile. "I like... I like holding you."
Nervous, Spy nodded, and limped forward, around the table. Weakly, he pulled himself up on the table, and laid there, beside the other man, panting from the exertion. Soldier was still colder than usual, but it still felt right being wrapped up in his arms.
Medic came back with two bowls of soup on a tray, and shook his head when he saw the two. Spy was already passed out by the time he brought the soup over to Soldier. "You like chicken noodle?"
Soldier's eyes brightened. "Love it! Lay it on me, Doc."
“You vill haff to sit up, und…dislodge yourself.” He gestured to the sleeping Spy.
Soldier sighed and did so reluctantly. He took the bowl of soup, trembling slightly, and ate spoonful after spoonful.
Medic watched him eat, arms crossed, gaze occasionally flicking back to Spy. “It is good?” he asked.
"Very. Very!" Soldier chuckled gratefully.
The doctor smiled, and circled around the table. Gently, he woke Spy, and brought his own bowl. He had to stand there, holding him up the whole time, but Spy was able to slowly eat it on his own.
Soldier was warm again and happy and warm.
“Feel any better?” Medic asked him, with a smile, as he stood there, propping Spy up.
Soldier nodded. "Yeah... A lot better, in fact..." A sigh. "I... I'll tell you everything you want to know later... But for now, I... I just want to sleep..."
Spy looked over, a noodle still half stuck out his mouth, and nodded.
A smile, and Soldier laid down, arms outstretched in case Spy wanted to rest, too.
Once Spy had finished, Medic took the bowl, and looked at Soldier. “Can I trust you not to try und mutilate yourself zhis time?”
"I don't want to, anymore." A tiny smile.
“Und you vill not hurt Spy, eizher?” Tentatively, he laid the Frenchman down on Soldier, his eyes already half-closed.
"No!" A look of horror.
“You promise?” Medic looked at him, sternly, still holding onto Spy.
Soldier’s brow furrowed. “Look, Doc. You don’t have to dance around the issue with me. I know I’m crazy. I know that. But I’m not a fucking psychopath. Spy means more to me than I mean to myself right now.”
He swallowed thickly past the lump in his throat. “I’d do anything for him. Even die if I had to. He's... No matter what he says, he's pure... Maybe he did bad things, but... I can see his spirit. And the dead... They'll leave me alone if I'm around him."
Medic didn’t like it, but he took the bowl, and set it on the counter, before returning to throw a blanket over the two. “I vill be back shortly.” He warned, taking the dishes to be washed.
Spy, meanwhile, had completely fallen asleep against Soldier, dozing peacefully.
Soldier nodded falling asleep almost instantly, as well.
The dead were quiet for the night.
Soldier was holding Spy tightly, now wide awake again. He felt better with his soul intact. Spy would keep him from breaking apart like last time. Hopefully the spirits would rest, as well.
Spy slept on for a while. He was pretty tired, still. His blood still hadn’t completely replenished itself, but he was getting there. After a bit, he started to stir, mumbling quietly in French while his eyelashes seemed to twitch.
"Hey. You finally starting to come around, Frenchie?"
“Non…non…Lachez-elle….” He mumbled, still asleep. “…ne la blesserez pas…” His arms twitched, and curled up around his torso, in an attempt to protect himself from a long-gone enemy.
Soldier blinked, and hugged Spy close to his body. "Spy?"
Spy jerked away, and opened his eyes with a gasp. He was silent for a moment, panting and staring back at the other man as he came around to his senses.
Soldier just stared back for a while. "You were... dreamin'?"
“…hein?” He asked, confused. Spy didn’t even remember having the dream now. A night terror more than anything, really.
"Eh... nothin'..." An exhausted smile. Soldier got up and fetched Spy's writing pad and pen before snuggling back into the bed. "Need anything?"
“Non. Je peut l’obtenir.” He shook his head, and slowly, painfully, scooted his way off the table, standing weakly on the floor.
"NO!" Soldier cried in fear. "Spy, don't! You'll hurt yourself again, and then I'll... I'll..."
Spy froze, hand still on the table for support. “Mais…” he pointed to the door, terrified and unsure.
"Please don't..." Soldier whimpered. "Please...."
“Mais…” Spy gestured to the marks on his stomach. “Ce me donne mal.”
Soldier blinked, then got up as well. "I'll... I'll help you," he offered, lending himself for support.
“Mais ton épaule-“ He pointed at the Soldier’s injured shoulder. He didn’t want to hurt him more.
"I don't care!" Soldier cried with desperation.
Spy sighed, and held his arm out over the other man’s shoulders, as carefully as he could.
Soldier winced slightly, but didn't say anything. He helped guide Spy to wherever he needed to go.
Slowly, the two made their way out to the grocery section of the store. Spy opened the freezer with his free hand, and hauled out another bag of frozen vegetables. He hissed when the cold pressed against his stomach, but soon adjusted. “D’accord.” He nodded at Soldier. “Retournions-nous?” He jerked his head towards their sleeping area.
A nod. Soldier began leading them back. "You could've just asked for that, yanno..." he murmured. "But thanks for taking my help."
Spy sleepily nodded. He looked really worn out- not just physically, but mentally. “Merci pour ton aide.” He smiled back.
Soldier kissed him gingerly on the cheek. "Yer welcome." A slight flush.
Spy halted immediately, and dropped the bag of frozen veggies in shock. He didn’t even look at Soldier. He just stared at the wall ahead of them, trying to process it all.
Soldier immediately lowered his gaze with shame. "... S... Sorry. That wasn't okay, was it?"
Silence. Spy just stared forward. “Alors….c’etait vrai, ouais, que tu m’aimes?”
Soldier just blinked. "Huh?" He nudged the pen and paper forward again.
Spy took it, and scribbled down. “Is it true that you like me?” He opted to go with the less-jarring translation of the word ‘aimer’.
"Yeah!" An excited nod from the man. "I do."
The Frenchman was much less excited. But he feared that running away (as if he even could) would only make the Soldier worse. He didn’t want to hurt him again. So he said nothing. He just reached down, put the bag of frozen veggies against his side again, and kept walking back towards the infirmary.
"... You don't want me to like you, do you?" Soldier asked softly. "... It's because I'm too crazy, isn't it?" There were quivers of hurt in the man's voice.
“Ce n’est pas ca.” Spy shook his head. “C’est seulement…un mal idée. Desolé…”
Soldier took that as a yes.
Spy was quiet, too. The only thing that came out of his mouth was the cliché, “C’est pas toi, c’est moi…”
"Okay..." Soldier didn't quite understand what was being said, but he understood the tone.
Spy saw the dejected look on the poor man’s face and shook his head. He pointed at Soldier. “Toi, tu n’es pas le problème.” He explained, then pointed to himself. “C’est moi qui est le problème.”
"Why do you think that?" Curiosity.
“C’est toujours ma faute.” He explained, as Soldier held open the infirmary door for him. “Je suis toujours le problème.” He looked down at the ground, sadly.
Soldier just blinked again, then led Spy to the bed.
Painfully, Spy climbed back onto it, and laid down with a sigh, still holding the frozen bag against his belly. “Merci.” He mumbled.
A nod. "Go to bed, alight? I'm gonna find out where my clothes went."
Spy chuckled. “C’est une bonne idée.” He nodded, closing his eyes.
“Bonne nuit.” He mumbled, sleepily.
Technically the last part after the break happens later on, sandwiched between two smut chapters. I decided to just slap it on the back of the rest because I'm eager to put the Spy/Soldier drama on hold for a while. I knew we spent a while in the pharmacy, but I had no idea it was THIS long. Can't wait until the juicy stuff starts up again.
Chapter 27: Liebe (Semi-Explicit)
Scout confesses to Sniper about the reason he took such a big risk earlier, then lets something slip around Medic. Leading to an embarrassing ensuing confession...
The talk Scout has with Sniper is SFW. Everything else is Filthy.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Scout sighed dramatically, leaning over Sniper’s shoulder.
“ ‘s wrong now?” The Aussie muttered, turning over some more cards in his little game of Solitaire.
"... I'm sorry that I scared ya before."
“ ‘s alright.” He whispered, with a gentle smile. “Just don’t do it again, yeah?”
"Yeah..." Scout nodded sadly. “I just wanted to try out your idea since it made you so upset that I sided with Doc that one time without even giving it a chance…” A sigh. “I’m always spending time with him and stuff now that we’re together, and I dunno… I didn’t want you thinking you didn’t mean as much to me anymore now that I had him. That’s been eating me up ever since, to be honest…”
“Issat really why you took such a stupid bloody risk?” Sniper sighed, pulling the boy close for a hug. “Listen, mate, that’s bloody water under the bridge, aye? You don’t have to prove anything to me for me to know that ya care. ‘Specially not do something wot you think might be dangerous -- and on your own, at that. Savin’ face don’t mean nothin’ to me compared to keeping you safe, Peter. You’re all I’ve got left.”
Scout nodded, returning the hug. “Yeah… But are you sure you’re okay with me spendin’ so much time with Medic? You sure you don’t need me around a bit more?”
Sniper sighed. “You’re a man fully grown, P. Have been since before we ever met. You can spend your time as y’like,” he reassured him with a light pat on the back. “That said… It’d be nice to hear from you more every now and again.”
“Deal,” Scout chuckled, hopping to his feet. “Look, uh… I’m gonna check on Medic real quick -- he’s been real stressed out since all this bullshit with Spy and Solly started, and I just wanna make sure he’s doing alright. After we’re done getting frisky if he needs a distraction, I’ll come find you, okay?”
A chuckle. “All right, mate. Happy trails,” Sniper chuckled, turning back to his game.
Scout grinned and flounced off.
Medic could be found quite easily. Just follow the humming of classical music as he ran inventory of the store. He was currently checking on their stock of tampons. You never know when they might come in handy.
"Hey, Doc..." Scout chuckled, hugging him from behind and tickling the man's chin.
“Vone moment, bitte.” He extracted himself from the young man, rudely, and resumed counting.
Scout blinked. "Uh... Alright. What's going on, huh? Something more important? Than ME?" A grin.
Medic merely shushed him, and kept counting.
A shrug. "Alright, fine. I'll just go back to Snipes, I guess." He felt a little let down, but—
“Vait.” Medic held out his hand. Another few seconds of counting, and then he turned to the Scout with a smile. “Now, you vere saying?”
Still smiling, Medic put the clipboard down on the shelf, and strode forward, wrapping an arm around Scout’s waist. “Vhat is zhis? Suddenly struck dumb, are ve?” He chuckled.
"Yeah." A startled smile and a flush.
“Vell, zhen.” Medic leaned down, to bump his nose against the junior’s. “Perhaps zhe doctor should examine you, hm?”
"Yeah, yeah!" An ecstatic grin from the boy.
Tenderly, Medic pressed his lips against Scout’s.
Scout pulled him close, deepening the kiss as much as he could.
Medic gave him a little leeway, but soon pulled away, walking backwards to lead Scout up the stairs, where several abandoned offices lay.
"You wanna try fingerin' me tonight, Doc?" Scout asked raspily.
“Are you asking for me to do it?” He grinned, opening the door to one of the offices, and closing it quickly behind them.
"Yeah," Scout rasped, kissing him deeply again. "Ah, fuck, man... I fuckin' love you, Doc..."
Medic chuckled, kissing him back. He’d chalk that little slip up to the hormones. The older man reached into his pocket, and quickly hauled out the bottle of lube, the box of condoms, and a pair of fresh rubber gloves. He got into the habit of carrying them with him everywhere, just in case. Scout was pretty impulsive, after all. It'd paid off more than once.
Moving his kisses now to the boy’s hairline and cheeks, Medic began to slowly strip Scout of his clothes, running his hands over the heating flesh underneath.
There were still bruises of the infected that had swarmed him before and burn scars of that mysterious creature, but if Scout was bothered by it, he didn't show it. He arched eagerly into Medic's grasp, enjoying the feeling of being submissive for once. Didn't suit him all the time, but, eh, he was in the mood for it.
Removing the shirt, Medic laid Scout out on the desk, gently, kissing the bruised spots on his belly and chest and steering clear of the burned areas. His tongue flicked out, across the boy’s pink little nipples, already hardened from arousal.
Scout moaned richly, rolling his hips up to meet the sensation. His semi-hard cock brushed against Medic lightly.
Oh, but Medic would take his time. As always, he would go slow, and savor it, leaving the younger of the two to stew in his own arousal for a while. Soft lips wrapped around Scout’s left nipple, and sucked, while the thumb of his left hand flicked at the other.
Scout hummed in arousal and tried to see if he could get away with fondling himself just a little bit.
Medic let it slide a bit, this time, as he moved up to suck on the boy’s neck instead, leaving both hands to fondle his chest.
Scout moaned gingerly, rubbing his cock slowly, brushing his bulging erection against Medic's midsection.
“Scouuutcheeen.” Medic cooed in a sing song voice, as he slapped at his hand. “Now vhat fun is it…” He trailed off, knowing the boy would knew what he meant. Chuckling darkly, he began rubbing at his hips through the cloth of his pants.
Scout closed his eyes and took deep breaths.
Medic slipped his thumbs under the fabric, and began rubbing at the protruding bones underneath, humming a little tune once more. Tchaikovsky, this time.
Scout wrapped his long legs around Medic, and grinned. "You gonna make me beg, Doc?"
The older man looked up, and grinned. “If you are villing to…I zhink I can certainly drive you to zhat point if you vish.” Slowly, teasingly, he began to slide Scout’s pants down his hips.
A purr. "You into spankin', too? Or am I just pushin' it now..."
“Vhatever you want, Scoutchen.” A gentle kiss. “Vhatever you vant.”
The pants were pulled away entirely, and Medic began to assault the boy’s toned body with gentle caresses and kisses, in places he couldn’t even keep track of now.
Scout chuckled, feeling very much in control, even though he was the submissive one. "Oh, fuck, Medic... Fuck... Yeah, yeah, there's nice..."
Without warning, Scout was suddenly flipped on his stomach, his legs and cock hanging off the end of the desk.
"Wha--?!" Surprise as the boy flopped uselessly.
A low chuckle vibrated against the nape of his neck as Medic began to slowly kiss, nip, lick, and suck his way down his spine.
Another moan as the boy arched again, chuckling and trying to get a foothold on the floor.
Medic’s hands grasped the front of Scout’s thighs, and massaged them, at the same time, keeping his feet dangling in the air.
Scout was okay with this. He let go and simply trusted Medic to do what he did best.
Slowly, sensually, Medic’s mouth made its way down to the crack of Scout’s firm little ass. He let go of his legs, to put his hands to better use, gently massaging the toned buttocks, and spreading them, giving his tongue room to slip past.
Well, that was new. But, oooh, did it feel good. Still. Weird. Scout stiffened and make a quiet noise that was a cross between a moan and an unsure whine.
With practiced ease, Medic’s tongue lapped around the tight entrance, circling it, nearly penetrating it, but holding off on that for now.
A pained whimper, and Scout tried to press against Medic's tongue needily. This old fart was a lot kinkier than Scout had given him credit for!
A loud THWACK sounded through the room. Scout heard it before the stinging pain had registered on his behind.
A squeak of pain, and the boy clutched the desk. Then, a low moan of pleasure as the pain melted away and left nothing but a warming pleasure. "Oh, God yeah... Again. Again, Doc..." he rasped, grinding his eager cock against the cool, hard desk.
Again, the tongue flicked out and teased the tiny hole, and again, the doctor drew back, and slapped the firm little buttock, a smirk on his face the whole time.
"Ohhh, fuck..." Scout gasped, clutching onto the little desk. He squirmed so that his legs were even further apart. "Fuck, yeah, give me more you son of a bitch..." he whispered.
Medic leaned down a little, and, after slapping Scout’s ass again, he began to lick at the underside of the boy’s ballsack.
Scout panted, his face red as he panted hard with pleasure and tried to control how his body reacted to it. His erection throbbed, but he didn't even want to touch it. He was Medic's now.
Lucky for him, Medic decided to give him a little relief. A practiced hand wrapped around the shaft, loosely, and began to stroke, as Medic’s other hand continued to slap, and his tongue continued to prod the quivering entrance.
"Medic... God damn, Medic..." the boy gasped, not even sure how to react to this, other than grunting every few seconds in pure bliss at the slaps and the prodding of the man's tongue. Scout's ass was now a beautiful red shade, and his cock was slick with precum. He was as ready as ever.
Medic grinned, and finally breached the tight ring of muscle with his tongue, squeezing the boy’s cock tightly.
Scout gasped, tensing slightly. "M... Medic, a... are you sure you can...?" He was a little scared for his lover. He didn't know if this was a very safe practice.
The older man’s only response was another slap on the rear as his tongue circled around Scout’s entrance, moving in a wave pattern against the inner walls.
"Ughhh... I.... Ohhh, don't think you c.... can... Oh, fuck..."
He gave up. Medic could do whatever he wanted with his mouth. As long as he didn't try to kiss Scout afterwards
Another slap, and Medic began to pump Scout’s cock firmly as he continued to lavish attention on his ass. His tongue began to piston inside of the young man, effectively fucking him with the tiny organ.
"Hhhr...hhhnnng..." Scout kind of wanted more. There was suddenly a sense of excitement at what other new, kinky things Medic could show him. Scout was familiar with quick, rushed little fumbles under the sheets with older men who just wanted to experience something held long repressed in the back of their minds. But right now, he was with a master of this kind of play.
"F...Fuck, man, lick my balls again like you did before..." he moaned softly, clenching onto the desk tightly.
Slowly, teasingly, Medic let his tongue slip out of the boy’s ass, flicking the entrance several times, before he moved down to lick and mouth at his swollen sack, moaning softly into the warm flesh.
"Oh, God... Oh god..." Scout finally had to grasp at his throbbing member, desperate to relieve the pressure. "Fuck, man, just fuck me, please, PLEASE..." the boy begged, desperate to feel warmth against his prostate. "You don't gotta wear a condom if ya don't want, I just do it for my own reasons." Not that he considered his own ass to be any cleaner than Medic's, but, hell, the guy had already fucking stuck his tongue in him.
Medic grinned, and kept mouthing at the sensitive sack as he lubed up one of his fingers. Teasingly, he traced the boy’s entrance with it, before slipping it, gently fucking him as he chuckled against his balls.
"Oh... oh... oh, please..." Scout gasped, rubbing his thumb around the sensitive tip, spreading the lovely precum around. "God, I want you to fucking fuck me... Fucking make me your bitch... I want you so bad..." the boy pleaded, quivering with need.
The older man grinned, and pulled Scout’s hand away from his member, planting it firmly under his own on the desk. A second finger slipped inside the first, and fucked Scout a little more roughly than before, but not enough to really hurt, or cause any damage. Medic knew better.
"Aw, yeah... Yeah, that's what I'm talking about... Fuck me good..." He ground his hips against the desk, groaning even more.
Those fingers thrust in and out for a while, before curling upwards, pressing against a sweet little bundle of nerves that Medic was all too well acquainted with.
Scout squealed, embarrassed, and trembled around Medic's grasp. "Just fucking FUCK me, already!"
“But Scoutchen,” he cooed, licking a long, sensual trail down the boy’s cock. “Zhat’s exactly vhat I am doing.”
Medic angled his mouth, and began to suck the tip of Scout’s cock, while he pistoned his fingers in and out of his tight hole, pressing against that sweet spot with every thrust in.
Scout panted raspily, arching into Medic's mouth, silently begging for more, but the pleasure was so great, he couldn't even properly speak any longer. His eyes began to roll back into his head.
Just as the poor boy was reaching his peak, Medic pulled back off his cock, and stopped moving his fingers inside him. A loud SLAP rang through the air as he tanned one of Scout’s blushing asscheeks again.
A furious yowl. "AUGH, FUCK YOU!!!"
Another spank, and a throaty chuckle followed it this time.
Slowly, Medic began moving his fingers again, in an agonizing wave pattern this time, striking Scout's prostate, hard, with every move.
"M...May I please come...?" Scout whimpered, digging in his nails.
“Vhat vhas zhat Scoutchen?” Medic whispered, grinning, as licked at the sensitive tip of his cock again. “Vhat do you vant?”
"I want to come... Please, Doc, please, please, PLEASE..."
“So do it.” He chuckled, tonguing the slit. “I am not stopping you.” His fingers curled up again, lingering against that sensitive bundle of nerves.
"H...Hnnnghhhh... Guuuuh!" Scout released eagerly, his seed splattering the desk slightly.
Medic licked at the underside of his cock, and milked him through the orgasm. “Feel good, Scoutchen?” He kissed the softening member, tenderly.
Yeah..." the boy cooed gently, his member already getting soft in Medic's hand.
The older man chuckled, and gently extracted his fingers from Scout. He wiped off his hand with a Kleenex on the desk, and sat there, beside the boy, tenderly rubbing his ass where he’d spanked it, as if to soothe the earlier stinging pain.
"Can I... Can I sit on your lap, man?" Scout asked, flushing slightly.
“But of course.” Medic smiled, stroking the boy’s reddened face.
Scout smiled slightly, and curled up in Medic's lap, stroking the man's chest. The warmth in his bum made him feel... loved. Safe. Happy. "I love you..." he repeated softly, drowsiness setting in.
Medic looked down at him for a moment, perplexed. The earlier time he’d chalked up to a mere slip, but now twice? Well…it was probably the afterglow. Speaking of, he’d like to slap some on himself, right now.
“Scoutchen, can you move your bum a little?” He was trying to reach between his own legs to undo his pants.
"Oh, oh, sure..." Scout chuckled softly, moving so that his ass was positioned right over Medic's hips.
“Danke.” He smiled, kissing the boy’s cheek as he brought his hardened member forth from its cloth confines, and began to stroke it.
"I want you to fuck me..." Scout growled sensually. "And none of that slow shit. I want you to fuck me like I'm a cheap whore, ya got that?" The boy seemed to live on the rush.
Medic grinned. “If you’re sure zhat’s vhat you vant.” He reached for the lube, and again slicked up his fingers, and slipped them into Scout’s waiting hole. This time he moved differently- not solely to please, but to prepare.
Scout groaned softly, stroking his flaccid dick.
The older man moved slowly, despite the Scout’s requests. He was still a patient man, concerned for the well-being of his lovers, and he wouldn’t risk their safety like that. And so, here he sat, gently scissoring his fingers inside the young boy with already-very-flushed skin, with his hard cock bouncing off of the young man’s thighs. Couldn’t be better.
Scout was still flaccid, so it wasn't too bad for him, and the few sparks of pain were enough to set him off, anyways.
Soon, Medic was able to slip a third finger in among his first two. He wrapped his free hand around the boy’s waist, and started to gently rub his back. “Are you okay, Scout? Are you hurting at all?”
"A... A little, but it's okay..." Scout wiggled his limp dick. "C'mon, c'mon..." he muttered to himself.
He chuckled, looking down at the unresponsive member. “Stop touching it. Give it time. Allow yourself to become aroused mentally, and you vill become aroused physically soon after.” Medic smiled, trailing his tongue and teeth up the sensitive skin under Scout’s jaw. “Take it from somevone who is pushing sixty.”
A tiny whimper. "I... I know, but... Damn... I just want it......"
“Vant vhat?” Another nip, and the fingers in him again shifted, stretching him further.
“Mmhmm?” Medic murmured into the warm collarbone, planting kisses all over.
"Nothin'... C'mon, Doc, do it... Do it, alright?"
“Alright, alright.” He chuckled, reaching across the desk for a condom, and quickly slipping it on, and lining himself up with Scout’s entrance. The lube drizzled down the sheath, and he pumped himself a few times to spread it around. “You are ready?”
"Yeah." A smile. Scout actually looked a little... sad.
Medic noticed. He always did. “Vhat is wrong?”
"I dunno... Nothin', man, nothin'..."
Medic just frowned sternly. “Scout…” He warned.
"Just fuck me, alright?" the boy asked softly, tears dripping down his face. "Please... I need this... We can talk after, alright?"
Medic frowned, but kissed him gently on the lips, and nodded. “Alright.” He replied, tender as ever, and slowly, carefully, began feeding his cock into the young boy’s waiting entrance.
A groan. The boy clung to the man's shoulders, grasping his semi-hard member. "Oh... Oh, fuck, oh, fuck..."
The older man held onto his young lover’s waist as he slowly slid his entire cock inside. Sweat was dripping from the two of them, and Medic just sat there for a while, letting the boy in his lap adjust to the size, while he adjusted to the searing pleasure coursing through his hard cock.
Scout moaned quietly, and slowly brought himself up and down on the man's hips, his tight body adjusting to the man's member. He angled himself so that the hot tip pressed against his prostate, and groaned softly.
Once the lithe body on top of his began to move on his own, Medic slowly started to move against it, pulling back when he rose, and coming up when he sank down, effectively creating a pleasurable, albeit slow, rhythm for their coupling.
Scout seemed less frantic now and more able to enjoy the feeling and the slower tempo, giving soft cries every time he came down. He clutched to Medic needily, kissing up and down the man's neck.
Medic angled his head to give the boy more skin to kiss, bringing one hand away from Scout’s hips to unbutton his shirt a little. That hand went to work gently caressing and teasing the boy’s hair, neck, and back, as he continued to ride Medic.
Soft moans were heard from both parties now, as Medic started to remember just how good it felt to be inside someone again. Some days he liked being the bottom, but then there were times like this, with this young, handsome, horny Scout -- so hot and tight around his cock… Everything was just perfect.
Scout sheathed the man fully inside him, and groaned, tightening his walls in little waves of pressure over and over again.
Medic gasped, and instinctively wrapped his arms around the boy, uttering soft moans with every pleasurable squeeze. “Ohhh…” He groaned, breathing a little deeper now, and his skin a little pinker.
Scout began riding him again, whimpering softly. "C'mon... C'mon, yeah... Little more..."
Coming back into himself again, Medic began to thrust once more. He moved a little faster this time- a little harder, as his cries of passion grew louder.
Scout held on tightly for the ride, grunting and moaning as well, joining Medic's cries.
Medic tilted his head up, and captured the boy’s lips with his own, moaning into his mouth as he increased his tempo of thrusts even further.
Scout cursed against Medic's lips, gasping with pleasure at the sound of wet, slapping flesh. "Please, please, please, please..." he whispered quietly,
The older man lovingly nipped and sucked at Scout’s neck as he slowed his thrusts, making them harder than before, though. He was testing Scout, to see what he liked.
A disappointed whine. "Cut it out, man." A pout.
Medic chuckled, and just kept up his slow, violent thrusts, moving the boy a good few inches further above the desk with every one. One of his hands moved down to gently stroke at Scout’s now-hard member, as if to give him some sort of compensation for the slowness.
Scout bit -- hard -- on the man's shoulder, growling softly as he let Medic take complete control.
“Ach…” Medic groaned, and said something that was probably an insult, in German. As if to punish the boy, he began to speed his thrusts, still pounding mercilessly hard into him. His own pleasured grunts and groans were even starting to out-volume the Scout’s.
Scout whimpered softly, grasping onto Medic's shoulders loosely. This was what he wanted. What he'd craved... "Medic..." he panted softly, wriggling in the man's lap.
Medic angled his head and pressed his lips against Scout’s, moaning, desperately into his mouth. He was close -- that much was clear, and he pumped at Scout’s cock while he fucked his tight little hole, trying to bring him off first.
Scout came weakly, his own orgasm being only a few exhausted spurts and gentle trickle of semen as he released into his older lover's hand. A tiny whine.
The older man wasn’t far behind him. A few more thrusts and he grunted as he released his own load, inside the condom inside of Scout. He held onto the boy tightly, and kissed the side of his face, exhausted, as he came down.
Scout held onto the man tightly, breath still harsh and uneven.
After a few minutes, Medic began to rub the boy’s seed into his belly, and carefully extracted himself. He slipped the condom off, and Medic held it up, quickly turning it inside out, and smearing the contents over Scout’s lower back.
A slight shudder. This was even worse than just being splooged on. He felt like he was being used for sloppy seconds.
As he massaged the semen into Scout’s skin, Medic kissed at the boy’s neck, tenderly -- lovingly.
A small hum. Scout nuzzled his way into Medic's neck. He wished he could have lasted longer. He wished he could fuck until it was morning so that he wouldn't have to fucking TALK about... about...
I had to break my own rule about splitting up porn sections and whatnot because it would have been over 5K words, so The Talk Medic and Scout have with each other will be uploaded tomorrow.
Chapter 28: Old Flames (Semi-Explicit)
Scout discusses his first boyfriend with Medic due to some prompting. Medic responds with a tale of his own.
Somewhat detailed recounting of sexual exploits, some of which were with a minor. Fair warning.
Medic chuckled, and held the boy tightly, rubbing small circles into his back. “Now, are you going to tell me vhat vas wrong earlier? Or do I haff to force it out of you, hm?”
Scout sighed. "Eh, it was a little thing... No biggy, alright, Doc?"
“Scout.” Medic merely looked at him, sternly. His eyes said that neither one would be leaving here until Scout spilled the beans.
Scout looked down, and sighed. "Look, man. I just don't wanna get into it, alright? It was a long time ago."
Medic stroked a sticky finger down the boy’s face, and spoke to him tenderly. “Tell me, Scoutchen. Vhat is wrong?”
"It was just... My first boyfriend..." the kid muttered. "... Well... If you could call him that… He was my..." A mutter. "... Teacher. In high school. I was just starting to figure out I wasn't like other guys, and... Well, he was, too."
“Und vhy does zhis make you sad?” He kissed Scout’s forehead, and gently stroked his upper arm.
"Well, it... It wasn't so simple..."
Scout sighed deeply. "We fooled around for a while -- maybe a few months -- and everything was fine and all. But he started... doing me favors, yanno? Helping me cheat on tests, giving me great reports to send home... Dude, I loved it for a while. His class was a bitch -- English and Grammar and shit -- but he'd start writing me these notes on my tests that... Well, he was just getting too SERIOUS."
"Later, I told 'im that I wanted to end things, and he got really mad, and suddenly, he made me start failing everything, and giving me detention and calling my ma and shit and making up stories about my 'behavior issues' or somethin'. She'd never believe me because I'd had 'em before, so I was in for it good."
"Then, one day at detention, he just suddenly started crying and saying he was sorry and shit and begging me to come back with him and that he'd show me a real good time, and would take back everything, and I just..."
Scout rubbed the back of his neck anxiously with a wince. "I said yeah. What was I gonna fuckin' do? He had me by the balls, and it was my own damn fault for leadin' him on like that..." A sniff, and the boy wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.
Another gentle kiss, and a hug. “And zhen vhat happened?” Medic whispered.
"Well, he..." An embarrassed chuckle. "It was good... It was REAL good. But... I just... It never felt right, and I... I wanted him to stop, I kept asking him to, but he would send my life down the shitter if I did, and..."
“And?” Medic pressed again, still holding the boy tightly.
"And... Well... We got caught." Guilt as the boy looked down. “He liked sending me to detention a lot of the time so that we could have sex after school... It was a big turn-on for him. Me, too." A nervous laugh.
"Anyways, one of the other teachers came in and saw him boning me, and of course, she freaked. The cops came, my mom was called, he was arrested, and it was all over the news and shit. Ma wouldn't release my name, so my street cred was saved, but when they asked me about what happened, I... I said he forced me from the beginning, or else he'd fail me. Which wasn't entirely true. But they believed me. He went to jail after that."
"I... I still feel really guilty bout everything, though... I... I feel like..." Sniffles. "Like I... deserved some of what he got..."
Medic looked down at Scout, and kissed him, long, and tenderly. “Don’t believe zhat, Scout. You vere young, und impressionable, und horny, and it vas not right of him to take advantage of zhat. Don’t blame yourself for it. He should have known better.”
"Yeah..." A nod. "I... I guess…” A sigh. “I... I think I use sex to... help me forget about him. He was my first, after all..."
The older man didn’t know quite what to say. He just sat there, holding the boy in silence for a while. Then, getting an idea, he grinned. “Vould you like to know about my first?”
"......" The boy perked up. "Yeah. It a good one?" He was always one for a dirty story.
“Vell, it is a good story.” He laughed, laying back on the desk, taking the boy with him. “I vas eighteen -- not yell fully avare of my preference for men -- und my fazher decided to give me a birthday present. A prostitute.” He chuckled a little, already finding it funny.
A nod and a smile.
“Vell, of course, my fazher didn’t vant to pick vone of zhe young, inexperienced vones. So he picked… Greta.” He said the name with an immense amount of amusement.
"Oh, jeez..." A laugh. "Was she a hag?"
“Oh my yes.” He chuckled. “A good fifty years older zhan me, and probably a hundred pounds heavier. Red hair all tangled up, like she’d never seen a comb before, and her skin had zhat brown, leazhery texture older vomen get vhen zhey tanned too long in zheir youzh.” He smiled, fondly. “Still, she had a certain…eagerness zhat vas…” He burst out laughing, having to cut his sentence short.
Scout laughed as well, clutching onto the man for support.
“Vait, vait, it gets better.” He chuckled. “She…vell, I vhas so nervous zhat I could not even get aroused, so she decided to…use her mouzh on me first.” He laughed even harder. “….she had no teeth! I mean, she had zhem, but zhey vere fake! Dentures!” More laughs. “And she took zhem out and set zhem on zhe table so she could suck my cock!”
"DUDE! she was gummin' on you?!" Uproarious laughter. "Oh, fuck, dude! You deserve a trophy for that shit!"
Medic laughed harder, eventually petering down to mere chuckles. “Yes, it vas…interesting, certainly. Zhen she let me get on top and make love to her, but zhere vasn’t anyzhing special about it, really. Zhe blowjob vas zhe memorable part.”
"Did it... feel good to you?" A friendly smile. It was clear that there were no wrong answers.
“Oh at zhe time it vas good enough.” He nodded. “Of course, compared to my more recent exploits, it certainly pales in comparison.” He smiled back at Scout, and stroked his hair, affectionately. “I vish I could say zhat somezhing felt like it vas missing, like…her penis, or somezhing, but really, I didn’t know any better. It felt fine to me at zhe time. And it gives me a good story to tell, ja?”
"Yeah." A grin. "I had sex with a girl, too. But, hey, she was hot, and it was fun as shit. Not much to the story there." Scout paused. "I think I did it as some kinda way to ‘prove’ to myself I was okay after what happened with my ex. But of course, that didn’t last. I always liked fuckin' you fine, upstandin' gentlemen more than chicks..."
“I must say, I do much prefer zhe benefits zhat come vit being vit anozzher man.” He smiled. “Svitching, for example. Zhe ozher night, I vanted to be penetrated, and you did zhat. Tonight, you vanted it, and I could accommodate you.” Another grin. “It’s so convenient, both haffing a penis, isn’t it?”
"Yeah..." A kiss. "Plus, I just... I just like everything about guys. Not just cock n balls, but, like..." He felt over Medic's flat, slightly rippled stomach, and held onto the small love handles most men got later in their age. "... This, man. Yanno? I love it all..."
Medic slapped his hands away from the bits of fat, playfully, and chuckled. “I promise I used to haff a nice, toned figure like yours, vonce.” He stroked the boy’s lean pectorals. “I really did. But vhen you get old, zhings just change, I suppose.” A silly shrug.
"Naw, naw, I'm totally okay with it… I love every part of your body, I swear!" An uncomfortable chuckle. "Does... that make me weird or somethin'?"
“I don’t zhink so.” Medic shook his head, smiling, and gave Scout another kiss. “It does seem a little veird to me, but zhat’s because I am just a little self-conscious, I suppose.” He laughed it off.
"Don't be." A kiss. "Yer fuckin' perfect to me, alright...?"
A roll of the eyes, but Medic still replied, “Zhank you, Scoutchen. You’re very sveet.”
"What. You don’t believe me, chucklenuts?" A pout. Scout apparently took this very seriously.
Another chuckle, and a peck on the lips. “Nein.” He grinned, sitting back up on the desk, and finally tucked himself back in his trousers.
"Eh. Your loss then, buddy." A shrug and a grin.
Medic mussed the boy’s hair, affectionately, and pulled him off of his lap, sitting him on the desk as he stood up. “Vell, zhat vas fun, ja?” He went about, adjusting his clothing to its regular state.
"Yeah..." A weak smile. "I guess..."
Medic paused in adjusting his tie. “Vhat’s wrong now?”
"No, nothin'. Just a little tired after... rememberin' all that, yanno?"
The older man smiled, and held out his hand. “Come. I vill take you to bed. You should get some sleep.”
A smile. "Thanks, man..." Scout pulled on his underwear, pants, and shirt, then followed Medic's lead out of the room.
Chapter 29: PWP (Explicit)
Exactly what it says on the tin.
Plot comes back tomorrow, I PROMISE. Stuff I'm pretty excited about, too! See you then!
The days passed by in the large pharmacy like a blur, with everyone settling into familiar routines. But if there was one thing that was a reliable constant for the time they spent holed away, it was that Scout wasn't good at subtlety.
Medic was up during the late hours of the night, reading up on some possible ways to drain Soldier's infected wound, when Scout walked in, fully naked, and snuggled himself right into the man's lap like an overgrown kitten. He gave a smug grin.
Medic grinned back, amused. “Vell hello zhere.” He scratched the boy behind the ears, much like a cat. “To vhat do I owe zhe pleasure of zhis lack of clozhing?”
"My dick." A snicker as the boy rolled back his foreskin and moaned quietly.
“Ah. I see.” The older man netted his fingers in Scout’s hair, and reached his own hand down to fondle the junior’s balls. “Didn’t feel like just masturbating, hm? Vanted more?”
"Yeah..." A soft purr. "You really know how to get me goin'..."
“Vell it doesn’t take much, really.” He chuckled, letting his hand travel lower, to prod at the boy’s entrance. His left hand travelled lower, too, to scrape his nails gently over Scout’s neck. “Alvays so eager. So horny…”
"Yeah, well, someone's gotta be there to get yer blood flowin' again, ya old fart." Scout chuckled and sat up to give Medic a small, loving kiss on the lips. He pumped himself gingerly, enjoying the feeling of Medic's fingers pressing against his tight hole.
“Vone moment.” He retracted his hand, and reached into the pocket of his coat, which hung over the chair. The bottle of lube was opened, his fingers slicked up, and the bottle found its new home on the table beside them. “Zhere ve go.” He whispered huskily, as he danced his fingers around the crack of Scout’s ass, prodding his entrance -- not quite penetrating just yet.
"Aw, yeah, Doc... Now you’re speakin' my language…" Scout purred with delight, grinning as Medic pleasured him with his teasing finger. He noted the slight erection prodding his back, and chuckled.
“You like zhat, hm?” He purred back as he slipped one slick digit inside the eager young man.
"Oh yeah, doc... Oh, fuck yeah... Mmm..." A grin. "You always know how to make me scream..."
Medic chuckled. “Not too loud, zhough, ja? Don’t vant to vake zhe ozhers.” That finger began to slide in and out of the tight hole, fucking him gently.
"Ohhh... Ohhh, god..." Another snicker." No promises, yeah?" He pumped himself a little more urgently, his head now a bright cherry red. Precum was already starting to bubble out, thinly coating his fingers.
“Vait…vait, just a moment.” Medic stopped his thrusting, in case it brought Scout over the edge before he could take his shirt off. He didn’t have many. He’d prefer to not have to walk around the rest of the apocalypse with a cum stain on it. Once it was removed -- one-handedly, no less -- he began to fuck the young runner again, this time slipping his second finger into the warm entrance.
"Aw, c'mon, Doc - stop teasin'..." The boy stuck out his tongue. "Show off all that heat you’re packin', huh?" he asked, reaching back and cupping Medic through the front of his pants.
“I’m afraid my hand is razher…occupied at zhe moment, Scoutchen.” He grinned, and curled his fingers to caress the boy’s prostate.
"You have two, ya jackass."
“Yes, but zhe ozher vone is doing zhis…” He smirked, kissing the boy’s face, and pressed against the sensitive pressure point underneath Scout’s balls, effectively pressing against his prostate from both sides.
The boy found it difficult to talk after that. He went stiff, babbling incoherently as his mind flooded with pleasure. Trembling.
Medic kissed him again, and then paused in his ministrations. “Too much?”
"A... A little... Hnnnn..." He squirmed a bit. "Goddamn..."
Kiss after kiss were peppered along the boy’s hairline. “Sorry.” He whispered, slowly fucking the boy, apologetically. “A little less intense, ja?” His other hand went to the swollen member, and began stroking it lovingly.
"Yeah..." A quiet moan. "That's it..."
“Better?” He grinned, full well knowing the answer. His hand began to stroke a little faster.
"Aw, yeah... Fuck yeah..."
Medic chuckled, and went to work stroking his prostate again, hard, as he pumped the shaft slowly now.
"Doc..." Scout hummed quietly. "Let me see ya, alright...? No holdin' back..." Again, he stroked the man's crotch sensually, licking his lips.
“Alright, zhen.” Medic purred, his bulge growing further under the boy’s hand. “Vell, you AH zhe vone vit your hands free…Suppose you could…?” His eyebrows raised, and he nodded at his own crotch.
"Better idea..." Scout chuckled, pulling out Medic's large, throbbing cock. "How's about I frot ya like a real champ, huh?"
“Mmm…” Medic moaned, relieved to be free from the constrictive fabric. “As you vish, mein liebling.” He chuckled, kissing Scout’s hairline again, affectionately.
After a few minutes of awkwardly trying to position them right ad failing, the two men finally settled on the table with Medic underneath Scout. Scout squirmed against the older man, pressing needy kisses against his lips, face, and neck as he moaned, thrusting against Medic's cock.
The older man moaned back, lavishing similar attention on Scout’s face, softly murmuring affectionate phrases in his native tongue. His cock was hard, and throbbing, and beginning to leak precum to lubricate their efforts, but he was nowhere near as far-gone as his younger lover. Age did have some advantages in the bedroom.
"Awww... Aww, yeah.... Aw, FUCK yeah... Get some, ya fuckin' German bastard. Fuck yeah, you love it..." Scout pumped both of their cocks, face contorted in pleasure. "You fucking love it, you bitch... Fuck yeah... I'm gonna give it to ya, too..."
“Are you close, Scoutchen?” Medic growled into his ear, nipping at the lobe. “Going to cum all over me?” The older man let out a shiver of delight at the mere thought.
"Yeah... Yeah... I'm close. You wanna feel my hot cum all over ya, you fucking bastard?" Scout lifted the man's shirt and clawed at Medic's nipples, groaning with delight. It left angry red marks, but not enough to spill blood.
Medic hissed, and clutched at the boy’s shoulder, warningly. “Gently, Scoutchen, gently…”
"Sorry... Sorry, man..." He kissed Medic's neck apologetically, thrusting softer this time.
“Yes, zhat’s it…good…” Medic moaned, licking at Scout’s shoulder blade. His own hands came around, and began to scrape at the junior’s bare back, gently, but eventually gaining some harshness. He wasn’t a fan of pain during sex, but maybe Scout was?
"Ohhhh... Fuck..." Scout groaned, his back arching slightly in response to Medic's rough handling. He rewarded Medic with a forceful kiss on the lips, tongue and all.
The older man’s appendage slid over his with ease and familiarity, kissing back with just as much force. He moaned into Scout’s mouth, and continued to scrape his nails along the young man’s spine.
"Oh.... Oh God..." Scout hips twitched uncontrollably. "Oh God, I... c...can't..." He began rapidly pumping his cock, gasping for release.
“Yes, Scoutchen, yes…” Medic moaned, kissing his cheeks over and over, as his sharp nails dug into his lover’s skin. “Let it out, cum all over me…”
Scout came with a euphoric grunt, hot cum splashing all over Medic's pelvis and abdomen. He gasped, trying to catch himself as he came down from his forceful orgasm.
His older lover wouldn’t let him fall, though. He held onto him tightly as he worked himself down, milking himself of the cum that remained in his young, swollen balls. Medic grinned at the sticky mess on his stomach, and felt his erection grow all the harder for it.
Scout hummed quietly and slid Medic's pulsing head between the cheeks of his ass, sighing. "Holy fuck, dude... You deserve one hell of a reward after that..."
“Oh yes, I agree.” Medic chuckled, groaning softly at the tight, warm ass. Christ, he could just fuck the boy’s crack and get off. But it wasn’t quite what he was in the mood for that. “Scoutchen…may I ask you somezhing?”
"Yeah?" A lopsided smile of post-orgasmic bliss.
“You…do you…” He paused. He didn’t want to take that smile off Scout’s face, but it had to be asked. “Do I…taste bad? My semen, I mean. Does it?”
"Uh..." Scout paused. "Honestly...? Yeah, a little. It's really bitter n'salty. But I don't mind it, really. I'm used to swallowin' cum, and it's good for ya." A grin.
Medic looked down. Damn. He could fix it if his thrusting technique was off, or if the boy wanted him to spank him or scrape his nails along his back during sex, but semen? Not much he could do to change the taste. Even if they had every food resource available to change his diet- which they didn’t- it was still hard, and most of the remedies were old-wives’ tales.
“I don’t vant you to haff to taste it if you don’t like it.” Medic shook his head.
"Aw, crud, Doc, if I REALLY didn't like it, I wouldn't do it - you know me." Annoyance. "I was just bein' honest with ya, but really, I don't mind it."
“You don’t?” He asked, unsure. “You’re sure?”
Scout just cocked an eyebrow. "When have I EVER been known to do somethin' I didn't want to, huh?"
Medic sighed, and stroked his hair, lovingly. “Vell…in zhat case…vould you be villing to…?” He ran his thumb over the boy’s lips, and stroked his cock, hinting.
"Aw, fuck yeah." A grin as Scout scuttled down to get a mouthful of Medic's cock. Even if he didn't especially like the taste of Medic's cum, he ALWAYS loved giving blowjobs.
“MMMmmm…” Medic groaned, letting his head fall back as he gently stroked the nape of Scout’s neck. “Ja…just like zhat, Scoutchen…” He panted, and looked down at the supplicating figure. “You…you like being punished during sex, it seems.” He remarked.
A chuckle. "A little... Let's just say I got daddy issues. I always wanted someone who could put me in my place, yanno?" He licked the tip playfully.
“Oh really?” Medic grinned, and pulled his hips back a bit, away from the boy’s mouth. The next instant, his cock gently slapped Scout’s cheek.
A tiny moan as Scout closed his eyes half-way and stuck out his tongue, practically begging for more.
“You like zhat?” The older man smirked, and did it again, dragging the tip across the boy’s lips, leaving a small streak of precum behind.
"Oh fuck, Doc..." Scout groaned, licking it up. "You're so fuckin' sexy..." His bright, mischievous eyes flickered back up at Medic. He seemed so submissive kneeling before Medic like that, begging for his cock, even though his eyes burned with an unholy delight.
Medic laughed out loud, and ruffled his hair. “Zhank you.” He slapped the boy’s lips again. “Now…” He grinned, stroking his swollen member. “Beg for it, Scoutchen.”
"Oh, please, Doc..." the boy snickered, apparently a little more uncomfortable than he desired with being totally submissive. "Could I have ya cock?"
Another slap. “Now, Scoutchen, you can do better zhan zhat.” He grinned, still stroking the turgid flesh.
"Please, Doc! I wanna suck ya real bad!" Scout blurted, face blushing a bright red.
Medic slid the tip in the boy’s mouth only for a moment, and then jerked it away, and slapped his cheek with it again, dampening it with the saliva that lingered on his cock. “Again.”
"Let me have yer cock, damnit!" A laugh.
The hard member was quickly slid in -- further this time, and immediately pulled back out, to gently trace the boy’s lips this time, rather than slap them.
A tiny moan as Scout’s tongue hung out slightly.
Slowly, Medic began a routine of roughly thrusting into Scout’s mouth, pulling back to just his lips, and repeating the motion.
Scout just held his mouth open, and kept swirling his tongue, moaning quietly with delight.
“Tell me you vant it, Scoutchen.” Medic ordered, panting, his cock dripping more precum now, leaving strings of it across the young lips.
"Give me your big, fuckin' German wiener schnitzel, you fuckin' sex pot..." Scout sighed, kissing the man's inner thigh.
Medic burst out laughing, and led his German Sausage to the boy’s hungry mouth again, this time letting him suck on it as he thrust forward, gently.
Scout complied fully, suckling on it gently and rimming his tongue around his head -- pulling out all the stops to make sure Medic would never want to pull away again.
It was certainly working. Medic thoroughly enjoyed the boy’s attention -- so much so that he was swiftly approaching his climax. Face red, and lungs struggling to bring in enough air, Medic looked down at his lover, panting. “Sc-Scoutchen…” he moaned, “May I…cum on your face?”
"Sure, Doc," Scout breathed. "Eyes closed or open?"
“Close zhem.” He panted, stroking his cock fast and hard. “Don’t vant to blind you.” Medic tried to chuckle, but it came out as a moan as his balls tightened up. It was inevitable now, and it felt so good.
Scout closed his eyes and stuck out his tongue just in case.
Medic exhaled, shuddering, as his seed shot forth, coating the boy’s cheeks, chin, lips, and yes, his tongue, in the creamy, bitter substance. He moaned, still pumping away, and another few weaker jets of it came out, dribbling down the underside of his cock, and onto his hand.
Scout swallowed what had landed on his tongue and hummed, waiting patiently for Medic to rub it into his skin.
It took a minute for the older man to come back into himself. He just sat there, staring down at Scout as he caught his breath, his jaw dropped, and his gaze expressionless.
A few moments went by in silence. "... Doc...?" Scout called softly, as if afraid. Had he done something wrong…?
Medic quickly dispelled those fears by sliding down off the table to kneel beside Scout. Without waiting, he began to lovingly lick up the cum on the boy’s face.
Scout groaned quietly with arousal and affection. He clung loosely to Medic's arms as the older man licked up his spilled cum.
Once it was gone, Medic held onto the young man, still panting, and kissed his hairline. “You’re right.” He rasped, exhausted, and chuckled. “It does taste bad.”
Chapter 30: On the Road
The group intervenes to curb Soldier's frightening behavior and hopefully help ease Spy's. And then things quickly go wrong.
A few days later...
Soldier was curled up next to Spy as usual, eyes drifting shut. It wasn't very late, but he felt pretty tired now. He felt tired a lot, lately.
A note was handed to him from over Spy’s shoulder. “Can you pass the water please?” It was on the stool they were using a makeshift bedside table. The Frenchman had been sleeping for most of the day, and so, for the moment, he was awake, but he was still pretty weak. He’d been up and around a few times, on Medic’s advice, but never more than a few minutes at a time.
Soldier nodded and fetched him a glass. He'd been attempting to exercise again, but would practice moderation when Medic or Spy asked. A faint knocking sounded at the door. When Soldier went to answer it, he was met with the sight of Heavy. The man cleared his throat.
"Hello, Soldier. Me and everyone else would like to talk with you."
Soldier paused. He glanced back at Spy, as if unsure if he should leave the man.
Spy looked over at the pair by the door, and sat up, slowly. “Qu’est-ce qui se passe?” He asked.
“Nothing bad is going to happen,” Heavy assured. “We just want to talk.”
Soldier began looking defensive and fearful. "About what?"
This seemed to take the man by surprise. There was a stunned pause, and he glanced back at Spy yet again.
Spy had good hearing. “Quoi? Quoi moi, alors?”
"We want to talk to Soldier, Spy. Alone. Is this good?"
Reluctance. "Well... Alright..." Soldier huffed softly. "But make it quick, alright?"
Spy looked worried, but didn’t make any move to follow the two. Not that he could even if he wanted to.
Scout was leaning against Sniper and flipping through a two-month old magazine he'd found, clearly bored. His feet were kicked up casually on Medic's lap. Medic and Sniper looked far less casual. Both were sitting up straight on the worn futon in the back room (well, straight for Sniper just meant anything less than his usual slouch), and seemed to be nervous. Medic kept drumming his fingers on Scout’s ankle.
When Heavy finally entered with Soldier, the kid glanced up and rolled his eyes. "Took ya long enough, man." He tended to get bored easily.
“Gut. You are here.” Medic straightened even more, and gestured to the two wooden chairs across from them. “Please, haff a seat, Soldier. Zhere is much zhat ve must discuss.”
Soldier looked up at the man like a wary animal approached in the forest, and sat down as he was asked. "What's this about, huh?"
"What, heavy didn't tell ya? It's about Spy, man."
"I know that," Soldier grumbled. "What about him?"
"You are... ah... too... attached to him," Heavy responded, closing the door. "Is not healthy."
“For eizher of you.” Medic finished. “In times like zhese, vone cannot become so attached to ozhers. Making friends is fine, but…zhe two of you seem to fall apart wizhout vone anozher. It is a problem.”
"I can't live without him," Soldier responded without missing a beat.
"But... Soldier, it is... It is dangerous times... You must think and use brain to see that... one day you might have to!" Heavy protested.
Soldier winced and looked down. "I wouldn't let that happen..." he muttered softly.
“Might not have a choice, mate.” Sniper finally piped up. “Spy mightn’t neither. Both of you seem pretty clingy t’one another. Suppose something happens to you. What’s Spy do then, huh? Kill himself? Can’t live without each other after all, right?”
Soldier began to shrink in upon himself. "I don't want to hear this..." he grumbled softly - almost with a hint of danger in his voice. They were close to losing him.
"Soldier! Soldier..." Heavy cut in, trying to calm the man. "We do not want to scare you only to... change way of thinking. You cannot live entire life based on one person."
"Yeah - at least when you were all America this and America that, you could still fuckin' function widdout it being about America all the time, right?" Scout piped up. "I mean, you came all this way when the fuckin' country was in shambles! What happened, man?"
“Scout.” Sniper looked down at him, scolding. Medic had briefed them earlier on not being judgmental, or harsh with Soldier. Likely it wouldn’t get them anywhere.
"So what should I do, then?" Soldier muttered, looking down. "America's got nothin' for me anymore - you just said so. And I can't... fight for myself..."
“Vhy not?” Medic suggested, crossing his hands on his lap.
A mirthless chuckle. "Look at me. You see anything worth fightin' for? Didn't think so."
"You think it's worth your time fightin' for that scrawny dude in the infirmary, then?" Scout cackled. "I don't see anything worth fighting for there, either!"
“SCOUT!” Sniper scolded again.
"I don't have time for this..." Soldier grumbled, standing to leave.
“Soldier, vait, please.” Medic held out his hand. “Zhis is not just about you. Ve are concerned about Spy more zhan anyzhing here. He is zhe vone ve are vorried about.” He wouldn’t mention that they all started sleeping with blunt weapons in case Soldier snapped in the middle of the night or something.
A pause. "Why are you worried about him?" Soldier asked softly.
Medic sighed. “It is zhis…language zhing zhat vorries me. Zhere is no sign of improvement, and I vorry zhere may not be. Not if he keeps enduring all zhis…stress.”
"You... You think I'm causing him to... be like this? I'm the problem?" Horror.
“Not you, Soldier, but your…your mental state.” Medic tried to be soothing, but it was hard. “Spy has told me zhat he feels stressed by it, zhat he feels pressured into staying wizh you so often for your sake, even vhen he vants to be alone. It’s causing him pain, and more stress, Soldier.” Another sigh. “I know you’re only trying to help, but…”
The man sat heavily. He ran his fingers shakily through his scruffy hair. "I... I don't want to be like this... I don't want to hurt him..."
“Zhen you must find a vay to ground yourself, wizhout using him.” Medic replied, softly. “It isn’t fair to Spy, and it’s not healzhy for you, eizher.”
"I don't know how... I don't know..."
Heavy cleared his throat. "Well... Maybe I have idea. Before Spy, you fight for America, Mostly. Not just country America, but Idea of America, yes? Is why you continue on journey when country was falling. You cannot live for yourself, so why not another idea?"
"Like what?" Soldier asked, almost desperate.
Medic pursed his lips, and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eager to hear Heavy’s idea.
"Florida Keys. Where we are going. Yes? This you can do. Is not just for you or for Spy. Is for future and all survivors to come to. This is good idea to live for."
A pause. Soldier seemed to be thinking about this.
Sniper leaned forward like Medic. “Wot d’you think, mate? Continuity of the human race worth fightin’ for?”
"... Yes." Soldier seemed to brighten up about this.
"And, remember? You're the one who can lead us to it, man!" Scout chipped in, grinning. "It was your idea, right?"
"Yeah, it was!" Suddenly, Soldier began to see himself as a shepherd, guiding all of his newfound allies -- Spy included -- to their new safe haven, and keeping watch over all of the inhabitants. It was a thrilling idea. Their own little mini-America! Only done RIGHT.
“Gut.” Medic nodded, with a smile. “Zhen, I vant you to go into zhe infirmary, und tell Spy you are alright, and zhat he does not need to vorry about you. Zhat you vill be okay if he vants to be alone for a vhile. Because he needs some time to himself, Soldier. Ve all do. Alright?”
"Well..." Soldier paused. He still didn't like the thought of leaving Spy all alone, but he DID need his time, and maybe Soldier could patrol - make sure everything was safe, and...
He paused longer. "... I feel something."
“Vhat is it?” Medic looked on, curious.
“No…” Sniper exhaled, and stood up. He paused for a moment, and then just shook his head in disbelief and terror. “No… no…” He felt them too.
Heavy blinked. "What is that? A train, maybe?"
Scout jumped to his feet, eyes wide with panic. "GUYS, WE GOTTA GO. TURN OUT ALL THE LIGHTS -- DO IT FAST AND BE QUIET!" he hissed.
Medic went about turning off all the lights quickly, from the fuse box in the room they occupied. He’d address the generator later. Sniper stood rooted to the spot in terror.
When the lights went out, Spy knew something was wrong. He started to panic, but he wasn’t sure if he should leave, or stay. Soldier would come and get him if something was wrong…right?
As fate would have it, it was Heavy who came to retrieve the man. "We're leaving," he murmured quietly. "There is something dangerous nearby. We cannot stay here."
“Is everyone okay?” Spy asked, trembling, not even realizing he’d spoken in English. The panic must have set something right in his brain, at least for now.
"Yes, yes, everyone is..." A pause. "That was English..."
Spy looked up at him, shocked, and smiled a little. “It was, wasn’t it.” He looked truly happy for all of half a second, when loud noises started to come from outside. Spy flinched, and clung to the larger man.
Heavy held him close, then rushed off to get a few grenades and his shotgun. Soldier already had found his shovel and his own shotgun, and was flanking Heavy and Spy protectively before they'd even gotten to the door.
Medic had his own gun, and was trying to get Sniper to take one, but it kept falling from his shaking hands. Useless as he was, he still hovered around the Scout, not letting the boy out of his sight for a second.
Scout was skittish, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he shakily reloaded his pistol, then his shotgun. He took his Sandman tightly, took a deep breath, and nudged Medic with a nod. He was ready.
Medic wasn’t. He looked around, nervously. All this time taking inventory, and they’d never bothered to pack some of the supplies up in case they needed to leave. Oh well. A hastily-packed bag full of first aid kits would have to do. It was all he had now.
A bone-rattling roar tore through the city. A few of the infected on the street hissed quietly and scrambled off, not wanting to be caught in his path. The streets were empty within minutes.
Heavy looked around, terrified. "Wh...What was..."
Scout nudged Heavy, panicked. "We gotta go NOW..." he hissed. "C'mon - I'll lead the way. If he sees you, just be quiet, keep your cool, and try to sneak off somewhere he'll lose ya, alright?"
The door to the safehouse tentatively swung open.
Kiss the Pharmacy goodbye, folks, because we're not coming back! These next few chapters will be slightly more "action" oriented with less standing around and talking, which I can only guess a lot of people will be happy about. I sure am!
Chapter 31: TANK!
The group tries desperately to outrun the greatest threat to their survival thus far.
Spy clung tightly to Heavy, but leaned over to Soldier. “What is it? What is going on?” He whispered.
"I think it's a Tank..." Soldier whispered back. "Don't worry - I'll protect ya, Frenchie."
Spy nodded, and squeezed Soldier’s uninjured shoulder in silent thanks. Then he turned back to cling to Heavy, helping to free up the man’s arms as best he could.
The little group raced off, with Scout in the front and Medic bringing up the rear. The sun was setting over an angry red sky, and Heavy found himself wondering if it was an omen. Taking Soldier's direction, Scout began heading southeast.
Sniper still hovered around Scout, unarmed save for his kukri. He seemed very, very nervous, but said nothing. Every sound had him flinching, and grasping at the boy’s shoulder, protectively.
There was another roar - this time much closer, and the group immediately flattened themselves against a wall, looking about for any sign of the huge, terrifying Infected. There were a few rumbles of massive footsteps, but they eventually passed, complemented with the sounds of furious punching and the shrieks of metal as cars were smashed into buildings and each other.
Scout began to move again, eyes darting around in terror. Sniper held onto his shoulder, his hand shaking. He wouldn’t let go of the boy for a second.
Spy held tightly onto Heavy, as well, and looked over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature that threatened them. “What zhe ‘ell is zhat zhing?” he whispered, to the Soldier behind them.
"Shhh," Heavy hissed.
There was a pileup of cars either empty or filled with rotting bodies. Apparently the wreckage lasted for blocks on end. There was nothing to do but go through them -- going around would take too long, and they still didn't know where the Tank was.
As they were picking their way through the hazardous maze, they heard a furious roar, and a hellish ripping noise. Mere seconds later, a huge block of concrete suddenly smashed right be behind the tiny group, sending chunks of gravel flying everywhere.
Scout's heart jumped up into his throat. "HE SAW US! RUN!!!" he shrieked, leaping over the cars and dodging around them as best as he could.
Medic shrieked somewhere in the back of the group and bolted as well. Sniper ran as fast as his long legs could go, sticking as close to the Scout as he could. Spy just laid there, clinging to Heavy, his eyes shut tight in anticipation of the grisly demise they were sure to endure.
Heavy ran as fast as his legs could take him, with Soldier sticking right behind them and firing rounds at the charging monster. They seemed to bounce away harmlessly -- even the ones he'd aimed at the creature's head.
"Hurry, HURRY!" Scout screamed. "GET AWAY FROM DA CARS!"
As if to prove the boy's reasoning, the Tank punched one directly at the group. It skidded towards them then flipped away harmlessly, landing on top of a van that was already firmly lodged into a telephone pole. Ducking had been all that saved Heavy and Soldier's lives.
Spy’s heart was racing, and his desperate attempts at gasping for breath could be heard even over the sound of crunching metal.
Now at the front of the group, Medic aimed backwards, towards the Heavy. His shots hit -- most of them -- but, like Soldier’s bullets, they had little effect.
Scout lopped a Molotov at the thing, then followed it up with a few clips of his pistol, as Soldier shakily reloaded, cursing and shaking. "Move, princess!" he hollered to Heavy, trying to shove him through the streets. The Tank was engulfed fully in flames now, and closing in on them at a breakneck speed.
"Ovah here!" Scout cried, motioning them over to a little side ally. The group quickly followed.
"Keep it down," he hissed, reloading as he lead them down the twists and turns of the shady alley. "Maybe he'll lose us in all a' this and burn ta death. Best way to win a fight with one of those things is to avoid fightin' an' wait it out. You go face to face with a tank, and, boom, two or three punches an' you're out."
Sniper grabbed onto the boy’s shoulder suddenly, and jerked him back, stopping him in his tracks. Scout was about to snap at the rough handling when Sniper pointed ahead of them. Nothing but a big brick wall.
A dead end.
Heavy set Spy down carefully, and dragged a dumpster over to the brick wall, grunting. "Come on," he panted. "We go over it." The Tank sounded distant and confused, but it was still too dangerous to go backwards. The roof was their best hope for now. Soldier jumped into action, pushing the other end with his back against the dumpster to help speed the process along. Scout hung back close to Spy, bouncing on his heels and chewing on his lower lip with anxiety.
Trembling, Spy held onto him, eyes locked down the alleyway. Useless though he was, at least he could play lookout while the rest of their group broke their backs dragging a dumpster -- rather noisily, too, it must be said.
The roars of the monster grew louder, and the ground began shaking again. Heavy quickly took Spy in his arms and scrambled up on the dumpster, hunching over so that everyone could use him as a boost. Scout was the first one up and began offering hands to Sniper and then Medic. Soldier was on top of the dumpster now, too, and looking out for--
The Tank rounded the corner, and immediately began to charge. Spy could have sworn he felt his heart stop.
Heavy handed up Spy first, where the man was pulled to safety. Then he roughly handed up Soldier, who was planted firmly in place and shooting at the creature. A little more difficult since the man was densely built, but they managed to heave him up, as well.
"HEAVY!" Scout shrieked. "Jump, man! JUMP!"
Sniper and Medic both extended their hands to help the man climb up. It’d probably take all four among the able-bodied ones to hoist him like the others. “C’mon! C’mon!” Sniper called out, reaching out as far as he could.
Heavy jumped as best as he could, and nearly yanked two of the men down with him. Scout pitched in as well, grabbing the man's shirt and trying to heave him up. The Tank had paused, and was ripping up a chunk of concrete from the ground.
"HURRY!!!" Scout cried.
The three gave a tremendous heave, and managed to hoist Heavy up to relative safety, just in time for him to miss being squashed by the piece of the sidewalk the monster had thrown. Sprays of dust and concrete showered over them like a choking cloud. If they had been just a few seconds slower, Heavy would have been nothing more than a gory paint job on the side of the building.
A furious roar, and the monster began charging again. Panting with exertion, Heavy began picking up Spy again as Scout stood, watching in horror. "I...It can't get us up here, right? It can't climb! ... Can it?"
“Bloody hell, I hope not.” Sniper shook his head, panting, as he cracked his shoulder back into place. “Let’s not stick around to find out, yeah?”
"Where do we go?" Heavy asked, voice raw with strain.
"Where we can," Soldier huffed, jogging over to where there were a few boards connecting one building to another. There were tons of makeshift walkways like this connecting the city.
“Is it safe?” Medic looked down between the buildings, wary of the splintering bridge between them.
The building began to shake as the Tank began to scale up the wall with a terrifying deliberation.
"SAFE ENOUGH!" Scout screeched, leaping across nimbly.
With wide eyes, Medic quickly followed, and Sniper was right behind them, swearing as he went.
Heavy let Spy go across with Soldier in case their combined weight would be too much, then followed, himself.
Soldier was sweating and wheezing by then, seeming flushed in some places and pale elsewhere. He would have to rest soon, and the struggle had just begun.
“Are you okay?” Spy whispered into his ear, still holding onto him tightly.
"Not sure if I will be for long..." he murmured quietly, gulping. "This sunnuva bitch needs to give up already..."
“Give me your gun. I’ll shoot while you carry, sound good?” Spy offered, holding out his hand. “Maybe I can take him down. I’m a good shot, after all.”
"Yeah." An exhausted smile.
Spy took the shotgun, and readied it for when the beast got in sight -- which, judging by the massive arms clinging to the rooftop they’d come up, wouldn’t be much longer. True to the man's belief, the creature saw them within seconds, and charged blindly as Soldier dragged the man to an open window of the next building over.
Spy fired over and over again. Every bullet hit, dead on -- most of them in the head, but nothing happened. “What’s going on?! Why isn’t ‘e dying?!”
"CAN it die?!" Soldier cried.
Scout looked back at the raging inferno of a monster, tears welling into his eyes. "I don't know..." he choked out.
Sniper wrapped his arms around Scout, and held him tightly. “Just don’t look at it, P.” he murmured softly, tears streaming down his cheeks. They were goners for sure.
Medic joined Spy in firing at the beast, but was less accurate -- hitting him in the chest, the arms, and his lower torso too. Spy still kept firing his accurate shots to seemingly no avail. Then there was a click. “I’m empty!” he held his hand out for more bullets.
Soldier handed some over, with a shaking hand, spilling most of the shells. He collapsed, entirely spent, taking Spy down with him, both landing with a thud on the weathered shingles. Another roar as the Tank charged towards them once more, gaze locked on Spy and Soldier's collapsed forms. Soldier just closed his eyes, hoping his death would be quick and relatively painless.
As the Tank raced across the plank that connected the two buildings, the thing snapped like a withered twig. There was one last roar as the monster collapsed between the buildings, then a solid thump... Then nothing.
Scout blinked, peeking from between Sniper's arms.
Spy sat there, in mid-reload, staring at the spot where the Tank used to be. A few moments of silence followed, finally broken by the sound of Spy’s relieved laughter. The gun fell from his hands, as he wrapped his arms around himself. Tears streamed from his face as he half-laughed, half-cried, curling up further into himself.
Heavy gingerly gathered Spy up, murmuring consolation in his native language.
Spy just laid there in Heavy’s arms, giggling and hyperventilating, almost psychotically, but quieter now. He was shaking like a leaf, and his gaze up at the sky, seemed unfocused, like he was somewhere else, in his mind.
Soldier began trying to drag himself up. Heavy nodded towards Medic. "Help him walk, maybe?"
“In a moment.” Medic held his hand up. He walked casually towards the edge of the roof, and looked down. A few seconds later, the ground below was covered in his bile. Medic wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and then walked back to Soldier, wrapping his clean arm under the man’s shoulders, hoisting him up.
"Thanks..." Soldier muttered quietly. Embarrassed, he tried to hide the small damp spot forming on the front of his pants.
Scout gulped shakily. "C...C'mon... I see a ladder here. We can get back to the ground and keep going like we've been, yeah?" The city was stirring slightly. Already they saw a common infected shuffling around in one of the buildings, apparently relieved that the threat was over.
Sniper wasn’t sure. “What if that Tank’s not dead, though? Just…stunned. We've seen 'em burst through walls like they were tissue paper. I think it’s safer if we stick up top.” His hand seem pretty much attached to Scout now, barely letting go of him at all during this episode.
"Still, we'll be a buildin' away," Scout pointed out with a gulp. "I don't wanna go in those houses, man - I don't know what's in there..." Open air was a Scout's best friend. In closed spaces, he was hardly any use at all.
“Let’s have a vote, then, yeah?”
Sniper turned to his group. “Okay, excluding giggly McGee over there, what’s your thoughts, mates? Ground or through the buildin’s?”
Heavy thought. "Closed spaces offer much safety from Hunters and Smokers. I think buildings would be best."
"If we're out in the open, though, we know what's comin' for us..." Soldier rasped. "And we can get out of the way. Not to mention we can get where we're going a lot damn faster. Open spaces for me."
“I vote for zhe inside route.” Medic replied. “At least for a vhile. Maybe ve can find somevhere vit food, und vater, und a place to rest for zhe night. Ve could all use it.”
“Three to two, lads. Looks like we’re ‘eading inside.” Sniper nodded, leading the way.
Scout seemed upset and nervous about this, but said nothing.
Medic followed closely behind the two, still supporting Soldier. Heavy brought up the rear with Spy, who seemed to go quiet once they were in the dark, enclosed space.
“Don’t reckon anyone remembered t’pack a flashlight, eh?” Sniper whispered in the darkness.
"Just one," Heavy murmured, handing it over. "Can act as a weapon if need it."
“Thanks mate.” Sniper nodded, and turned the light on, shining it around the hallways. No sounds were heard but their own footsteps down the hallway of the apparently-abandoned apartment building. One of the doors on the right was open. Sniper readied his kukri, and used it to slowly open the door.
A piercing howl, and suddenly, Sniper was on the ground with a Hunter readying its claws to dig into him.
Scout screamed and shot it in the face with his scattergun before it could do any real damage. The thing fell away, dead. It seemed almost too easy when compared with the Tank.
Sniper laid there, still half-covered by Hunter corpse, and panted. “Right then.” He rasped. “Who wants t’go in first?”
Chapter 32: A Breather
The group find a little apartment to hole up in for the night. It won't keep them safe for long, but it's good enough for a short rest as they try to come to grips with their feelings.
Soldier poked into the cramped apartment, and was pleased to find a bedroom suite with a closet, bathroom, two beds and a couch there. The toilet didn't work, and neither did the sink. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Gut.” Medic nodded, after ensuring the area was safe and secure, at least for the time being. He was also pleased to find that whoever had been here before had left behind some food and bottled water in the fridge. “I vote zhat ve stay here for zhe night, and continue on in zhe morning. Are ve all agreed?”
Soldier nodded weakly, sitting on the bed. He felt lightheaded.
Heavy placed Spy beside him -- more out of habit than anything else, and went to work, shoving the shelf against the door to block it and stuffing rags under the crack of the door just in case infected could 'smell' when a survivor was near.
Spy seemed asleep already, but at Medic’s gentle touch, he stirred. Just resting his eyes. Medic smiled down at him, before kneeling in front of Soldier. “Soldier? Are you alright?”
A nod, and a tired smile. "I... I did good, didn't I? I mean... for a minute there, I... I gave up, I really did. I didn't think I could do it. But everything was a blessing at the end and that fucking dirty tank died. Fell like a sack of potatoes. But I did good for myself, I think. I really do." His words were as tired and jumbled and disorganized as his brain, but were filled with a sense of relief and self-assuredness.
Medic just nodded, his lips pursed. “Rest, Soldier.” He helped the man to lie down, near the half-asleep Spy. “Get some rest. You vill need it to lead us to zhe Florida keys, ja?”
"Yes. Yes, I will. I won't let you guys down."
Soldier wormed his way under the blankets, and sighed, turning to the side and going to sleep. It was the first time they'd seen him sleep without cuddling up to Spy, and, admittedly, it was a little jarring. Not just to them, but to Spy, as well. Feeling lonely and dejected and fearing he’d done something wrong, the skinny Frenchman merely curled up on his own side, facing away from the Soldier, and tried to sleep.
Sniper meanwhile, had laid claim to the couch, and was rubbing at his eyes, trying to stay awake. He called out to Scout, who was over at the refrigerator, “What’ve we got t’eat?”
"Uh... Looks like a lot of it's gone bad, man..." A frown as Scout held up a bag of liquefied salad.
“Ugh.” Sniper grimaced. “Anythin’ in the cupboards?”
"Uh..." Scout poked around."Well... We got some dry cereal, and some peanut butter again...Moldy bread... Granola bars! Jackpot!" A tired smile. He passed them out.
Heavy gave his to Spy, rubbing the man's back.
“Merci.” Spy muttered, opening it with his teeth, and biting into it, that sad little look still on his face.
Medic ate his quickly, stopping every so often to pick the kernels out of his teeth. Sniper practically downed the whole thing in one bite.
Scout just nibbled on it idly, still eaten up with terror from their past close call.
Sniper wrapped his arm around him, and patted his shoulder. “Y’alroight, mate?”
A weak smile. "Nah. Can't say I am. I was just... He... looked a lot like ours, huh?" he finally choked out.
The older man sighed, and just held Scout tighter. “They all look alike once they turn,” he replied somberly.
Sobbing. "B...But he was bald, too, and he... And his pants and everything..." He crumpled in on himself, forced for the first time to have to face the reality of losing a friend to a horrible illness that made him unrecognizable anymore. The fear was paralyzing.
“Shh…Peter, shh…’s alroight.” Sniper soothed, holding the boy protectively in his arms. “I know…I know, just…let it out, alroight?” He rubbed his back, lost as to what else he could do. “Just cry, lad. Let it out. That’s it. Just let it out.”
"I don't want nothin' to happen to you guys..." he sobbed. "To anyone. Why'd this have to happen, huh?"
“It just…things happen, mate.” He shifted, and let Scout lay down on top of him, crying into his shirt. “Nothin’ we can do about it. And nothin’s gonna happen to us, y’hear? We’re all gonna be…fine. We’re gonna be fine.” The lack of faith in what he said was evident in his voice, but he hoped Scout didn’t hear it.
"I wish I could just wake up and everything be okay again..." Scout sniffled.
“Me too, mate.” Sniper nodded, with a sigh. “Me too.”
Scout clung to Sniper, sniffling and whimpering until he fell into a restless sleep. Sniper held him through the night, eventually falling asleep himself.
Medic came out of the bathroom, after flossing his teeth, and washing the vomit from his mouth, and walked over to the only still-conscious person in the room. “Ve vill haff to sleep in shifts, ja, Heavy? To keep vatch?” The poor doctor looked practically dead on his feet, but he’d be willing to stay up for a bit, so Heavy could rest. He’d been the one hauling Spy around, after all.
"Go to sleep and I will wake you when I cannot sit up any longer." Heavy was still rubbing Spy's back with a tired smile.
Medic smiled back. “Zhank you. Is…he alright?” He pointed to Spy.
"I think he misses old Soldier... Just a little. Seemed a little sad when there were no hugs tonight."
“Ja, I fear perhaps zhis may be doing more harm zhan good.” Medic sat on the other bed, opposite Heavy. “It is good zhat Soldier does not completely base his existence on Spy, now, but…Spy does still need him. He vill still miss him, I…” He sighed. “I need to sleep.” He shook his head. “I vill deal vit zhis all later. Vake me vhen you’re tired.” Medic laid down, and put his glasses on the nearby end table.
Heavy nodded and continued looking over Spy. With eyes still closed, Spy reached one hand back, and grasped at the hand rubbing him. Heavy smiled softly.
Soldier rolled over in his sleep and instinctively curled up to Spy, though his grasp wasn't needy or possessive. Still appearing to be asleep, Spy let go of Heavy’s hand, and snuggled up into the other man behind him. Then he smiled a sleepy little content smile, and half-sighed, half-yawned, before he really fell asleep.
Scout was plagued with nightmares the entire night. He woke up in a cold sweat, clinging desperately to Sniper. A whimper and quiet sobs as he realized the situation they were all still in.
Sniper slept like a log the entire time. Medic, however, came over to investigate. “Scoutchen?” He rubbed the boy’s back, softly. “Are you alright?”
"No..." The attack from the tank had really shaken him up.
“Come.” Medic held his hand out. “You can come over and sit by me. It is varm over in zhat corner.” He smiled, tenderly.
Scout paused. "But... I'll leave Sniper cold..."
“He vill be fine, Scoutchen.” Another smile, and still that hand was held out.
Scout took it, but not before pausing to give Sniper a kiss on the cheek and placing a blanket over his sleeping form. He followed Medic back to the corner and snuggled next to him, feeling anxious without reason.
Medic cuddled him back, but noticed the boy’s tenseness. “You know…” he whispered, “I did manage to sneak out some light sedatives in case ve needed zhem. I could cut zhem in haff. It vould be enough to calm your nerves.”
"No..." Scout sighed. "What if something happens and we need to take a run for it? What then? I'm just..." A shaky breath. "Upset."
Medic sighed and nodded, rubbing Scout’s back. “It vas just a zhought.”
"Hey, Doc...?" came the soft question. "What's yer name, huh?"
“My…name?” He whispered, a little bit shocked. He hadn’t told it to anyone in years.
"Yeah... I figure we've... been with each other long enough to... To maybe share it..."
Medic paused. “… You first.”
"Are ya scared?" Curiosity.
“Nein.” He shook his head. “Just…vorried you von’t like it.” He chuckled, blushing a little.
"Oh..." A chuckle. "Well, my name is... It's Peter, alright?"
Medic smiled. “Zhat is a nice name. Mine…my name is Mertin.”
Scout grinned. "Cute. I thought it'd be something... intense, yanno? Like Bruce or Heinz. But Mertin is real, real cute."
“Ja?” Medic smiled, blushing a little.
"Yeah." A nod with a smile.
“Vell… zhank you, Scoutchen.” He smiled, planting a kiss on the boy’s forehead.
For some reason, it made Scout feel better. He looked down. "We're actually people... Sometimes it's easy to forget, but we... We have a reason to be here... Else we wouldn't be here. Right?"
“Right.” Medic nodded. “Everyzhing happens for a reason. Ve all survived for some reason. Vhat it is, I don’t know, but it’s zhere.” Perhaps those previously hired in the war were genetically predisposed to withstand the illness… Perhaps it had been induced by frequent Respawns? He’d have to think on it further.
Scout nodded, then kissed the older man's fingers sweetly. "No matter what happens, man..." he started. He was unable to finish, though, seeming unsure about how to do it.
“Vhat is it, liebling?” Medic smiled, reaching up to stroke the boy’s face, tenderly.
"I... I'll... always be there," he finished lamely, unable to process the huge flood of emotion overwhelming him. “For you.”
The older man just chuckled, and kissed Scout’s hair again. “As vill I, Scoutchen. As vill I.”
Scout nodded and fell asleep against the man again, still unsure, but a little less afraid.
Medic let him sleep, but stayed awake, himself. He was on guard duty, after all. Every little noise made him jump, and cling a little tighter to his Scout. He wanted nothing more than to just curl up somewhere with the boy, warm and safe, but he knew that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.
Chapter 33: Game Plan
After a tense night, the group prepare to try to fight their way to the distant coast.
The next day was tough to get up for. Everyone was sore, including Heavy and especially Soldier from the strenuous day before. Heavy yawned, stretched, and cracked his back. He searched for more food as Medic began shaking people awake. They had an early morning ahead of them.
Seeing how pained his two carriers were, Spy felt bad, and crawled out of bed by himself. He limped around, to the kitchenette, and ate a small breakfast with the rest of them. He was growing stronger, but he still had a way to go. He was looking a little paler than usual, too, which had Medic concerned, but he chalked it up to the harrowing experience last night. He’d seen himself in the bathroom mirror. He looked pretty pale, too.
Heavy thought nothing of his aching body, owing it to having to pull the dumpster and lifting himself up to the roof the day before. Even with help, he was a... very sturdy man.
Despite the rest they’d had, everyone still seemed pretty tired. Even Scout was less chatty than usual. Truth be told, they could all use some coffee, but was there any to be found? Of course not.
Spy was the one who broke the awkward, early-morning silence. “So…where do we go from ‘ere?”
"Southeast?" Soldier suggested, passing out more granola bars. "I have a feeling we'd get lost trying to find our way back to the safe house."
“Heading for the water, then?” Sniper asked, scratching at his stubble. “That still the plan?”
"Yeah. Best one we've got so far. Any objections?" Soldier asked, still not quite adapt to playing ‘team captain’ again, but he seemed to drift easily into the role for the most part.
Sniper looked over at Scout, and then back to Soldier. “Supposing not every one of us wants to go to th’ Florida Keys, aye? What then?”
"Where would you like to go, then?" Soldier asked tersely.
“Up north.” Sniper replied. “New England, thereabouts.”
Heavy looked confused. "Why there? Is even longer journey and in heart of infection!"
Again, Sniper looked over at Scout, who was eating his own granola bar in the corner as he re-tied the stubborn laces of his sneakers. “Scout’s from Boston. His family’s still there.”
Scout paused and shook his head sadly. "We don't know that..." he sighed sadly.
“Yes we do.” Sniper stated, sternly. “Your family’s there, and they’re perfectly fine, and they ain’t infected or nothing, and your mom’s gonna show up at the door with bloody cookies and milk when we arrive.” He seemed almost angry about Scout’s lack of belief in this.
"Naw, man, Scout sighed, shaking his head. "Who knows if they're still there... They probably left soon as the outbreak happened. Like Medic did, yeah?" He motioned to the man. "There's no tellin' where they went. But we gotta look out for ourselves for now."
“But…they’re your family, mate.” Sniper pressed, looking down at Scout on the floor, sadly. “What if they are up there? What if they’re all waiting for you to come home and be with ‘em, huh?”
"I don't think they'd want me to die tryin' to get there..." Scout sniffled, looking down and wiping at his eyes. "I wouldn't wish it on them, after all..."
Sniper sighed, feeling like the biggest ass in the world for making Scout cry, even a little. He squeezed the boy’s shoulder, reassuringly. “If you’re sure, mate, then we’ll just head south like the others, okay?”
"Yeah..." A weak smile. "You guys are my family now, ya hear? Once all this is over, sure, I'll head back, and I'll see how everyone is and what they're doing, but for now, I... I gotta do what's best for me. And for y'all. Splittin' up could kill us, too."
“Roight, then.” Sniper nodded. “South it is.”
Spy coughed, lightly, to get the others' attention. “I ‘ate to bring zhis up now, but…well, razher now zhen later, I suppose. But…does anyone know ‘ow to operate a boat? At all?”
Scout raised his hand. "Yo. Jacked a boat off of my uncle once. Best joyride ever."
“Yes, but was it a sailboat, or one wizh a motor?” Spy inquired.
"It had a motor. Why?"
“Because taking a motorboat to zhe Florida keys from 'ere is not going to work.” Spy explained. “It’s too far. We’d run out of gasoline long before we ever reached it. What we really need is to sail.”
"... Well, fuck..." Scout sighed. "I guess we could still use the boat if it had a motor, right? Follow along the coast far enough to stay outta trouble and drop by whenever we need gas for it an' shit?"
“What if we don’t find any?” Spy retorted. “If we run out in zhe middle of zhe water, zhe current could drag us ‘oo knows where. We’d starve to deazh before we even saw zhe keys on zhe ‘orizon.”
"Well, I'd take us back to the coast before then, dude..." A wince.
“And what if we land in a town zhat’s even more overrun wit infected zhan ‘ere?” Spy didn’t like having to state these things, but they needed to be said. They really did. “We’d be trapped, wizh nowhere to go.”
Scout began to get irritable. "Well, fuck, man! What do you want us to do?! Walk there on foot, huh?! We don't KNOW what kinda boat is there IF there's a boat at all, and even if there WAS a sail boat, NONE OF US KNOWS HOW TO FUCKING USE THEM." He marched over to the Frenchman, sat beside him, and slammed his palms down on the table in front of him. "So you got a fix, homeboy? I'm waitin'!"
“Scout, keep it down,” Sniper warned, going to stand anxiously at the door in case the infected were attracted by his rising voice.
“I am not zhe one ‘oo ‘as caused us zhese problems, Scout.” Spy frowned from his place at the small table. “But zhey do exist, and to not acknowledge zhem now can put us in danger later. Do not blame me for trying to keep us all safe and alive, and prepared.”
“No they don’t!” Scout snapped. “You’re just making shit up to make me look stupid! What do we DO if we run into them?!” Scout demanded. “A motor boat would be a helluva lot faster than walkin' - especially with Infected all around - and if we did walk, we'd probably end up in the same exact places than if we'd gotten stranded on the boat -- lots of infected or not. Cause we'd still be following the coast! What do we do, huh? If there's just a motorboat? Ya honestly think we should just fuckin' hoof it and hope for the best?"
Spy looked around at the table, and then looked back to the Scout. “Considering zhat I seriously doubt you could squeeze all six of us into a motor boat, yes. Or would you simply strand some of us on zhe coast and jet off wizhout us? Is zhat your plan?” Spy frowned, dripping cynicism now. "So much for 'family', hein?"
Scout cried out with anger, frustration, and disbelief, got up, and tipped the table over in sheer spite. "Fine then -- YOU fucking come up with the plans from now on, SMARTASS!" he snapped storming off to the corner on the opposite end of the room. He pouted with his arms folded and eyes brimming with tears.
“Shhh!” Heavy scolded him, running to ensure the infected hadn’t heard his outburst and come to investigate. Scout just flipped him the bird and went back to pouting.
Spy sighed, and limped over to Scout, practically falling down with every step. He leaned heavily against the wall. “Scout, look at me.” He started, in a dull, tired tone. “I zhink we bozh know zhat zhe chances of me even making it out of zhis town alive are low. I just want to make sure zhat you and zhe ozhers ‘ave zhe right attitude about future plans -- zhat you don’t rush into zhings wizhout zhinking zhrough zhe dangers first.” He sighed, and looked over at the rest of the group. “I know I’m probably going to die. I understand zhat. But I don’t want zhe rest of you to join me, alright?”
Scout gritted his teeth together and shoved Spy away from his personal space, nearly knocking him over in the process. Still refusing to look him in the eye, he whispered venomously, "Just leave me alone, man..."
The Frenchman sighed, shaking his head. “I am sorry if I upset you,” he whispered.
Scout just wiped away his tears with the heel of his palm and set his jaw grimly, wisely deciding not to speak what was on his mind. Soldier took the Frenchman gently and led him away.
Spy practically fell into Soldier when he took him, and just hung over him, like a limp ragdoll, still desperately trying to stand and regain himself.
Soldier gingerly placed him back on the bed. "Don't move for now," he commanded gently.
Medic came over after righting the table, and began fussing over Spy -- checking his temperature and such, while the rest gathered up what little supplies were to be had. Seemed the infected hadn’t thought much of the loud noises for now, but they couldn’t risk sticking around to see how long their luck would hold out.
Soldier gave a decisive nod to the rest of the group. "So. When are we leavin', huh? We'll figure out what to do at the coast once we get there. For now, I think we should at least make progress until we get to another safehouse."
“And find some food.” Sniper added. “Dry cereal and moldy toast ain’t much to live off of.”
A nod from Solly. "Yeah."
Scout was mostly unapologetic over his little outburst, and continued sulking until it was go time and Heavy was moving the shelf from the door again. Spy sat up weakly, and tried to stand again, but just ended up back on the bed. Dizzy spells were a bitch.
Heavy lifted the man into his broad arms as Soldier made sure his gun was loaded and his extra ammo was easily accessible. He was the first one out, taking down any stray infected wandering the halls.
“I can walk. Put me down.” Spy stated stubbornly as his legs dangled in the air.
"None of this. You cannot run," Heavy shushed.
Spy sighed. He knew Heavy was right. “I’d say you should just shoot me, and save my being a burden, but zhen I would probably worry about you wasting a bullet on me.” He hated being so weak and useless.
"None of this, either. We are family, like Scout says. Now hush."
“Yes, I’m zhe baby of zhe family, apparently.” He retorted, dryly. “Getting carried everywhere, being spoon-fed, being coddled. Next zhing you’ll be changing diapers.”
Heavy ignored him this time.
Spy just laid there, face in his chest, quietly. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.
"Is okay. But must be quiet now. Is dangerous."
He merely nodded in response and would keep his mouth shut until someone said it was okay to speak up again.
We're about 2/3rds of the way done, but I'm going to take a break here. I know I said I wouldn't be meddling too much with the story, but at this point in the RP, Izzy and I forewent writing a big long action scene because that wasn't really what we were interested in at the time. But reading it back, I feel as though the story could benefit a lot from having a fully fleshed out action scene, and I'm fully willing to write one. But seeing as I have a lot on my plate already, it might take some time. Not to worry, though! We'll be back soon hopefully, and the introduction of my favorite character is right around the corner! I'll see you around until then, and thanks for reading!